Franchise Friday: More series need to be like EVIL DEAD
Don’t let continuity get in the way of a good story.
Can you imagine the discourse if Sam Raimi made the Evil Dead franchise today?
I shudder/laugh to think of what Film Twitter would make of the series, as it zigs and zags between horror and comedy, remaking its origin story three times, and twisting its rules without a care in the world for tonal consistency or narrative continuity. What starts as a transgressive, zero-budget, gross-out fest is, by Army of Darkness, a goofy bit of slapstick fronted by a hero who seems more of an animated character than the skeletons he’s sword-fighting.
And it’s why I love this bloody, silly and highly entertaining trilogy*.
In our era of legacysequels and cinematic universes, it too often feels as if The Simpsons’ Comic Book Guy is calling the shots in Hollywood, making sure every new Marvel entry or Star Wars sequel adheres strictly to canon and feels exactly like what’s come before. And that’s not always a bad thing – part of the fun of the Marvel Cinematic Universe is the way it’s built up an entire world out of 2008’s Iron Man, and how even seemingly long-disposed characters like The Abomination can pop back up.
But it can also be stifling, and that familiarity can lead to contempt. I have a good time with the Marvel movies, as I’ve said before, but I can so readily predict what to expect from each outing that it’s on the verge of turning me off (that said, I recently started watching She-Hulk, and I think its irreverence to mythologizing Marvel is a breath of fresh air). I’ve said this before, but I’ve hated most of DC’s output in the years since The Dark Knight Rises, but they’re taking such wild swings that I find their attempts intriguing; for every Joker or Justice League I suffer through, they deliver something fun or truly inventive, like Birds of Prey or Peacemaker.
Horror and comedy are no different. They both depend on unpredictability to work; formulas and templates dilute it over time. Jump scares stop making you jump when you can predict them; jokes aren’t funny when they’re re-told. That’s why so many horror and comedy sequels are so bad – they’re trying to replicate surprise by regurgitating formulas.
I don’t know if Raimi’s intent with making each Evil Dead movie so different from its predecessors was a conscious intent to keep viewers on their toes or if it’s simply a welcome component of the ever-escalating budgets allowing Raimi to get closer to his directorial vision and engage in a bit more self-indulgence each time out. But whatever the reason, it creates a franchise in which each entry has its own pleasures.
In fact, what are the constants in each movie? Slapstick humor? The first film lacks that. Blood and guts? Army of Darkness would easily be a PG-13 today. Bruce Campbell dropping quips as Ash? Sorry, only the third entry really goes all-in there.
Watching all three movies in short order this October, I found myself even more impressed how different each film is, even as they start with the same template: an evil cabin, a spooky book and some stupid college kids. The “brand” for these films isn’t Deadites, Necronomicons or even the character of Ash. It’s the boundless innovation Raimi brings to the table and the creative chemistry he has with his leading man.
I’m not going to go into the making-of stories of the films; Raimi’s rise up from no-budget Detroiter to Hollywood superstar is well chronicled. Nor am I going to do an exhaustive dive on each film; these movies have been discussed to death, and you can find in-depth criticism on them around the internet (I particularly recommend going back and listening to the Blank Check podcast’s episodes during their Raimi miniseries earlier this year). Rather, I’m going to take just a bit of space to focus on each film and the flavor that entry brings to the franchise.
The Evil Dead (1981) — The Scary One
Would The Evil Dead still be remembered today if Evil Dead II hadn’t brought energetic new life to the franchise? Or, conversely, was there any reason to revisit The Evil Dead once its sequel basically remade the concept and arguably improved upon it?
Rewatching Raimi’s directorial debut, I’m convinced this would still be a movie talked about, albeit maybe as more of a cult classic. I can see a world in which it’s the only Deadite movie, and a “dare” for young folk who want to see something truly gross, mean and scary.
Like all of the Evil Dead movies, the original rides on a beautifully simple plot: a group of co-eds arrive at a ramshackle cabin in the woods. They stumble upon a cursed book and a tape recorder, and unleash a horde of demons, who possess and dispatch them in increasingly gruesome fashion until only one remains.
In terms of franchise-starters, The Evil Dead is rudimentary, and there’s no way anyone thought they were starting a decades-spanning franchise here. The rules are arbitrary; there’s no real reason why the Deadites appear (they’re not even called Deadites here, and the Necronomicon is called the Naturom Demonto, or Book of the Dead). Bruce Campbell’s Ash is around, but he’s not the fast-talking wiseass people came to love. He’s the straight man here and spends much of the film looking terrified; he’s only the hero because he happens to be the last man standing. And while there a few moments of bleak humor, The Evil Dead is not a comedy. It’s a straight-on horror movie, more interested in spilling guts than making you chuckle.
I described it on Letterboxd as the greatest DIY project ever made. It was made for nothing, and the cast and crew lived in its decrepit cabin, eventually burning the furniture to stay warm. And while its bare-bones budget is evident, you can sense the creative energy that would eventually propel Raimi’s career. As countless others have said, Raimi’s camera work is muscular and inventive, and the gore effects are impressive. It’s a fast-moving, nasty little movie, pushing past the bounds of good taste throughout (not only in its over-the-top gore, but in the ill-advised “tree rape” sequence that Raimi rightfully has said he regrets; it’s the one “too much” moment in the movie).
Forty years on, is The Evil Dead still scary? I find that it is. It’s not its content; the unleashed demons plot is too over the top and silly to get under your skin, and the gore effects, while impressive, never for a moment feel real. But situated to its one dingy location, the film has a claustrophobic power and its makeup work is truly unsettling. The moments where Ash’s possessed girlfriend laughs and taunts him from the corner is spooky; the scariest thing about the Deadites isn’t their physical prowess but their laser-focus on driving Ash insane, and Raimi captures that unhingedness effectively. And the film’s low-rent aesthetic gives it a diseased, cursed feeling. I enjoy Fede Alvarez’s remake, but its slickness keeps me at a remove and prevents it from being truly scary. Here, the harsh lighting, ramshackle sets and grotesque makeup contribute to its eerie vibe, and prompt questions about what kind of madman would think up such a movie.
The Evil Dead might be my least favorite of the trilogy, but it’s just a matter of taste. I think it’s an impressive calling card of the film that manages to feel spooky and transgressive despite its limitations. I just happen to prefer the injection of comedy that would accompany its sequel.
Evil Dead II (1987) – The Funny One
I would have loved to sit in an audience of The Evil Dead lovers getting a first glimpse at this sequel. While I’m sure the violence and gore satisfied them, I have to imagine that they were at first deeply confused by the Three Stooges’ vibe that Raimi and Bruce Campbell brought.
It’s a hard tonal turn that I’d compare to Gremlins 2, which flipped the balance of silliness and horror from its predecessor to become a living cartoon. But the first Gremlins already had comedic elements; Joe Dante just played with the chemistry for his sequel. It had to be jarring for people going into a sequel to one of the most notorious horror movies and find that it was filled with slapstick and nods to Looney Tunes.
It had been a few years since I saw this one, so I was surprised to see how quickly Raimi worked in his remake of Evil Dead. Five minutes into the movie, Ash and his girlfriend have already arrived at the cabin and inadvertently summoned the Deadites, she’s been possessed, and he’s lopped off her head. From there, Raimi makes this its own weird thing. And it is, indeed, very weird.
The central delight of every Evil Dead film is the joy Raimi gets in torturing his close friend, Bruce Campbell. And the centerpiece of Evil Dead II is the long stretch in which Ash is alone in the cabin, being driven mad by the force trying to get in. Here, Raimi pulls out every trick in the book, turning the cabin into its own possessed entity, with deer heads that cackle at Ash, a desk lamp that dances, books that taunt and a disembodied hand that serves as the film’s biggest antagonist. Like the first film, the extreme camera angles and low-rent vibe give it a close approximation to the feeling of on-coming madness, but Raimi is very open about the fact that, this time, he’s making a comedy. Listen to the sound effects of Ash’s giggling hand, the site gag of Farewell to Arms serving as the final book to hold down Ash’s severed appendage. The comical torrent of blood that erupts from the walls.
Despite saying “Groovy” near the end of the film, it’s worth noting that Ash isn’t really a character here. He’s a presence, and he’s a target for the demons. But there’s not much to him; aside from the fact that he has a girlfriend and a penchant for giving ugly necklaces, we learn nothing about him, and he has no real drive or need other than survival.
And that’s a feature, not a bug. Because he’s not much of a character, we don’t feel too bad when we’re watching him be pummeled and smashed, yet we still root for him because Bruce Campbell gives what might be one of the most energetic and unrestrained comedic performances of all time. The scene where Ash is being dragged around by his possessed hand, smashing plates over his head, is a bit of demented joy; the flip he does at one point is a beautiful grace note. Raimi and Campbell share a comedic sensibility, one that appears to be “Three Stooges”-based, and they lean into it in a way that makes the horror and violence more intense instead of undercutting it.
Raimi appears to just be showing off at this point. The camera POV of the Evil, just l like in the first, is energetic and unnerving, goosed here by the way the camera flies through cars, carries Ash with it and chases the film’s hero through the house. The horror and gore are amped up, but also goosed with humor. The eyeball that pops out of a ghoul’s head only to end up in a character’s mouth is a great gag, as is the “I’m not holding your hand” moment. The movie constantly tosses scares and ideas at the audience in a way that might feel exhausting, except for the knowledge that this movie had to be even more exhausting to make. The climax, in which a giant face and massive tree hands appear at the door of the cabin, is almost brain-breaking; it’s a bit of special effects trickery that shouldn’t work this well in such a low-budget movie.
The movie is ramshackle and sloppy, and we never come to care about the other characters who show up as much as we care about Ash, even as the film attempts to fake us out in the third act by having Ash possessed by a Deadite. It doesn’t matter; There is so much energy and visual wit on display that it still works like gangbusters. It’s a haunted house ride in the hands of a true master, and it produces the screams and laughs that the best haunted attractions do. It’s a great movie.
Army of Darkness (1992) – The One With the Ash We Love
Bruce Campbell’s Ash Williams has been the hero, or at least last man standing, throughout Raimi’s Evil Dead series, and has become one of the most iconic horror movie characters. He even fronted his own three-season series on Starz.
But Army of Darkness is really the only film in which smart-ass Ash takes center stage in the form horror fans know and recognize. In Evil Dead, he’s a side character who just stumbles into heroism, and his dialogue isn’t too memorable. He takes a bit more shape in Evil Dead II, but he doesn’t really start spouting his one-liners like “come get some” until the third act; before that, it’s just random exclamations like “chainsaw” and “work shed,” and a really (purposefully?) corny line reading during his initial romantic interlude.
But it’s not until Ash is sucked through a time portal to the 1300s that we get him as a fully developed character, although it’s worth noting he’s still pretty much a cartoon. Ash is angry and sarcastic, rightfully frustrated about being sucked back in time. He’s also a selfish asshole, eager to just get the Necronomicon and head home, no matter whether the people trying to help him get slaughtered by the undead.
The two-dimensional nature of Ash might be a dig, but it’s actually a benefit. Again, part of the joy of seeing Ash is in watching him suffer for his assholery. In the most Evil Dead II section of this film, he’s trapped in a windmill with tiny versions of himself, and it’s a bit of silly cartoony antics and wince-inducing horror. The Tiny Ashes goad, poke and prod him, and at one point Ash inadvertently swallows one and scalds it to death by pouring boiling water down his throat. Were Ash a more grounded, psychologically realized character, this wouldn’t work. But by making him just this side of a Jim Carrey creation — given the similarities in how they look and their comedic energies, how did no one team them up in the mid-90s for a comedy? — we can laugh at Ash’s suffering. He’s a buffoon, making things worse by not taking anything seriously and putting himself on a pedestal, but it’s all in good fun and we can laugh at him suffering.
The film attempts to give Ash a heroic arc, softening him just a bit to come back and lead an army of peasants and knights against a horde of skeletons and his evil doppelganger, and giving him a paper-thin romance to engage in. But Army of Darkness works best when Raimi and Campbell’s comedic instincts are aligned. The tone is knowingly silly, and combined with the Harryhausen-inspired special effects, it feels like a film every 15-year-old would be hard-wired to love (again, why is this rated R?).
Army of Darkness abandons being scary; this is an Ash-centric bit of sword and sorcery. Again, I imagine diehard fans were a bit let down at the lack of viscera and blood. But it’s hard to get mad when a movie is this openly weird and fun. At just around 80 minutes, it never stops moving, and Raimi’s imagination runs wild. I love the fight in the pit, Ash’s bonkers encounter in the windmill, the finale with the army of skeletons, and even the original ending where he fights a Deadite in the S Mart (yes, I know there’s an alternate ending that takes Ash to the future; I’ve seen it, and it’s cute, but I prefer the theatrical ending). The special effects are charming and have personality; the type of thing you can achieve with models and stop-motion that is too often lost with CGI.
But most importantly, Army of Darkness gave us the Ash we know and love; prone to self-sabotage and buffoonery, with an arsenal of quips at the ready. “Boomstick,” “Primitive screwheads,” “give me some sugar, baby,” “you're the king of two things.” Almost every line is quotable, not because they’re so well written but because Bruce Campbell so well knows what vibe to play this at. It should have been a star-making performance; as it is, it fueled one of the great B-movie careers (and your reminder to not sleep on 2002’s Bubba Ho-Tep, in which Campbell plays an aged Elvis Presley who teams up with a very much alive JFK — played by Ossie Davis (!!) — to fight a mummy who sucks senior citizens’ souls out through their rectum. It’s bonkers and yet surprisingly touching).
The Evil Dead and Evil Dead II may be the scarier, more purely horror movies. But I’d argue Army of Darkness and Campbell’s take on Ash are what have given the series its longevity. It’s what led to comic book spinoffs, attempts to make Ash take on Freddy and Jason, and a well-regarded television series. Hell, there’s a reason people got so excited when Campbell popped up for a wasted cameo after the credits to the Evil Dead remake, despite the fact that those films bore no relation to Rami’s (it was all for naught, anyway; neither Campbell nor the cast of 2013’s Evil Dead are expected to show up in next year’s Evil Dead Rise).
Can you imagine a comic book movie coasting on pure innovation and energy before finally letting its hero take shape in a third movie? Can you imagine any sci-fi saga or ongoing series bouncing back and forth between tone like this series (the closest might be George Miller’s Mad Max movies)? The Evil Dead films stick around and are still beloved because they never got old; every trip Raimi and Campbell made back to the well feels like it’s own demented, weird thing. And I love that we have it.
* For purposes of this month’s Franchise Friday, I only watched the Raimi-directed feature films, as well as the first episode of the television show Ash vs. Evil Dead. The Fede Alvarez 2013 remake has its charms, but feels like a completely different animal, which is probably fitting.