Ash Williams Remains the Ultimate Horror Hero
All right, you primitive screwheads, listen up, because I want to talk about Evil Dead’s Ash Williams.
By now, you’ve likely heard the news that Bruce Campbell—the actor who has played the iconic character for over forty years—was diagnosed with an incurable cancer. Hearing that felt like taking a boom-stick to the face. Campbell has become a beloved personality in the horror community with his charismatic charm and outright kindness. I once met him at a convention where I had an embarrassing mishap, dropping the poster I wanted him to sign as I approached. Cool, calm, and collected, he cracked a joke and immediately made me feel better about it. He’s the man. The “chin”. One of the kings of horror.
And Ash Williams? He’s the ultimate horror hero. One who has been inspiring fans across the genre spectrum for decades.
When you think of the Deadite-slaying trash-talker, the image of that Army of Darkness poster may come to mind. Bruce standing atop a pile of skeletal fiends. Shirt ripped. Chest bared. Chainsaw hand armed and ready to kick some ass. A gowned woman sitting next to him. It’s like some dark fantasy romance novel cover. When the film released in 1993, a good portion of audiences surely looked at that handsome devil and thought, I want to be him.
But we forget that’s not always who Ash was. In fact, his first iteration couldn’t be farther from the Conan-esque, muscle-bound savior of Army of Darkness.
Released wide in 1983, long before anyone knew who Sam Raimi or Bruce Campbell were, The Evil Dead acted as a life-changing career catalyst for both. Raimi became the legendary filmmaker that he is today, having just released Send Help with Rachel McAdams. And Campbell’s role as Ashley (aka, Ash) Williams set him on a path to claiming the crown of “horror icon”.
When we first meet Ash, crammed into a car with friends and on their way to an isolated cabin in the woods, he’s nothing like the wisecracking man in Army of Darkness. He sports a dorky ’80s haircut, gives the camera an awkward smile that makes it seem like he just hit a joint two minutes ago. He’s not even driving his own car, leaving that role to his much more domineering friend, Scotty (Richard DeManincor). When they nearly hit a truck and cross a creaky bridge, pure panic washes over Ash. He later struggles to give a toast at dinner. You can practically hear his palms sweat as he gifts his girlfriend, Linda (Betsy Baker), a mirror pendant. And when he’s forced by the girls to descend into the cellar to go looking for Scott, he’s terrified.
In that first Evil Dead, Ash is a shy, cowardly, yet sweet and charming regular guy. And I adore him for that.
It might not seem like much, but it’s always mattered to me to see the sort of hero on screen that Ash represents. Like anyone else, I grew up a fan of the Schwarzenegger types. Guys who looked like G.I. Joe figures incarnate. But even at that age, I didn’t think I could ever be them. I’m 5’9 and have never weighed over one-eighty. I’ve always been the scrawny doofus. The “weak” one. The nervous, startled by my own shadow kind of person. Action heroes like Arnold were fun, but they were never me.
Of course, I looked up to many of horror’s “Final Girls”, as well. Alice Hardy’s resilience. Sidney Prescott’s toughness. Nancy Thompson’s wit (my personal favorite). Yet, for as much as I’ve always admired them, for as much as they’ve given me strength when I need it, these women aren’t quite “me”, either. They rarely let fear get to them. They aren’t cowards. They’re strong, intelligent, confident characters who you mess with at your own peril.
All the qualities that Ash has lacked throughout his nearly half-century journey.
In that first film, it’s Scotty who takes charge, not Ash. While his friend does all the dirty work, Ash tends to stand in the corner, gripping an ax and shaking in his boots. In fact, he often turns to Scotty, asking “what are we going to do?” And in yet another move atypical to horror heroes, he’s not just the first one to touch the Necronomicon…he’s also the guy who plays the tape that damns them all. Remember when everyone knocked the guy who read the book out loud in Fede Alvarez’s Evil Dead? Yeah, that’s Ash in a nutshell. A frightened, numbskull screw up. The type who almost always meets a gruesome end in the genre. But not Ash.
Because Ash isn’t your typical hero. In some way or another, horror films are always pitting protagonists against a version of their inner demons. For Ash, those demons have always been literal, mocking representations of the coward he fears he’ll always be. Throughout the series and especially in that first film, Ash battles the premise that he isn’t good enough. He fears commitment and the thought that he’s too cowardly to protect Linda, no matter how much he wants to. Hence Scotty’s line, “She’s your girlfriend. You take care of her.” He can’t, though. He fails. Linda dies. And Ash ends up soaked in the blood of his sins, a man who has lost his mind in the face of his own spinelessness.
For Evil Dead II, Sam Raimi altered the character, turning him from shy dork into a guy with some game. Yet he still fails Linda. She still dies. And he ends up confronting that failure within himself once he’s transformed into a Deadite. It isn’t until Ash is faced with the mirror pendant that he gave Linda that he’s forced to see himself. To witness his worst fear made real. And beat it.
Army of Darkness took that a step further. Per usual, Ash screws everyone, flubbing the phrase he’s supposed to recite before picking up the Necronomicon at its unholy resting place. After facing a horde of mini-Ash’s, one of them becomes a hulking monster dubbed Bad Ash. Despite our hero getting groovy and taking on the badass persona of Deadite slayer in the previous film, he still hasn’t escaped his cowardice. All he wants to do is get home; the medieval villagers that he’s stumbled into the timeline of be damned. Not even a newfound romance with Sheila (Embeth Davidtz) can convince him to stay and fight…until she’s kidnapped by Bad Ash. He can’t let what happened to Linda happen to her. So, once again, Ash must battle the thing that scares him most…himself.
This is what makes Ash so endearing. That despite his many, many screwups…despite his crass attitude and his occasionally obnoxious cockiness…despite the cowardice lurking in his gut…he pushes all of that aside. Gets back up. And battles the worst parts of himself. That’s exceedingly rare in the horror genre, to have a multi-film hero that doesn’t just save the day, but is the reason the horror occurs in the first place. In every single film, Ash summons the demons. Not some dumb jock. Not some psychopath wanting to bring about the end of the world through Deadite mayhem. Ash. He is always his own worst enemy. Yet he pulls through anyway.
You could forgive his past mistakes and declare he couldn’t have known what would happen. Sure. But then came the pitch-perfect Starz series that we got by some stroke of Ash Williams dumb luck, Ash vs. Evil Dead. In the wildly entertaining pilot episode, set thirty years after the events of Army of Darkness, our favorite screw-up gets high and decides to impress a girl by reading the Necronomicon out loud. Cue the smacking of heads everywhere.
Thirty years later, and Ash is still fucking up. Living in a trailer. Working at S-Mart. Sporting a dad bod and using his missing hand to pick up women at the bar. You would never think “hero” when looking at the guy. “Creep” would be more apt. But being an adult mess doesn’t prevent you from being a hero in whatever way you’re needed. It’s only human. Sidney Prescott may manage to have her shit together despite multiple attempts on her life and witnessing the death of countless friends. Genuinely, good for her. Most of us would be Ash, though. Just doing our best to get through it…even if our best kind of stinks at the moment.
But that’s okay. Because we don’t have to be perfect. Ash misses that dartboard by a mile in the first episode, only to later throw an ax on point at a Deadite and save the day. What matters is that we step up when we’re needed.
Partnered with Pablo (Ray Santiago) and Kelly (Dana DeLorenzo), Ash spends that last leg of his journey first fighting to keep them out of his life, and then fighting to keep them in it. He doesn’t want to let anyone else down. Nor does he realize that that’s why he’s a hero, because he actually cares.
Three seasons of top-tier television culminate in Ash facing off against a sixty-foot-tall Kandarian demon. The fight almost certainly guarantees death. Ash has spent his whole life afraid of being a coward. He says as much in what may be the most heart-wrenching speech of his life.
“Pablo, how many times you heard me say this, huh? Why me? Who am I? Nobody. Nobody! Guy from Elk Grove, Michigan. Where the fuck is that? In the middle of Jack shit nowhere. That’s where. You know what? I got news for you. I didn’t ask for this. You think I want this horse shit? Be covered in blood twenty four-seven? Who the fuck would want that? Savior my ass. I’m a… a god damn failure.”
Except, he isn’t. He’s the Jefe. The Deadite slayer. Ash-fucking-Williams. All of us doubt ourselves. We all fear that we’ll screw up. That we’ll fail the ones we love. And Ash? He shows us that we’re all capable. We can all pick ourselves up, dust off, and prove to the world that we have what it takes. We can make it to dawn.
Ash isn’t just a hero. He’s the ultimate story of redemption. A man who thought himself a coward, and proved himself a savior. He embodies the fact that you don’t need to be the strongest, the brightest, the most resourceful. You just need to believe in yourself.
That’s why, for me, Ash remains the most relatable hero in the horror genre. Because he’s each and every one of us. Screwed something up? So did Ash. Afraid of being called upon? So was Ash. Unleashed a horde of demons onto your friends and family? So did…wait, what? Grab a chainsaw and boom-stick and get the hell out of Dodge!
Equipped with charisma, gusto, and a smile that could melt even the coldest Deadite heart, Bruce Campbell gave audiences a hero whom they could look upon and say, “It’s okay to be afraid.” It’s okay to mess up. That doesn’t make me any less of a person. And I hope that, in his fans, Bruce knows that our love and respect for him show that he overcame the odds and accomplished something extraordinary. He became a hero to everyone.
So, let’s join in wishing him well against the greatest fight of his life. Be the heroes for him the way he’s always been for us. We’re here for you, Bruce. Stay groovy.
Categorized:Editorials