I Don’t Really Care for Sam Raimi’s ‘The Evil Dead’
I’ve always wanted the Herman Miller Eames Lounge Chair (if you know, you know). It’s an enduring classic, one of the most sought-after pieces of furniture of all time. There’s no denying the sheer artistry and craftsmanship in Charles and Ray Eames’ collaboration with Herman Miller, but among my social circle, I’m the only one who gets it. To everyone else, it’s a beautiful chair– hell, a gorgeous chair—but not exactly their taste. That’s like me when it comes to The Evil Dead, the mammoth-sized horror universe Sam Raimi’s guerrilla instincts birthed decades ago. I just… don’t really like it.
Despite that, The Evil Dead has been such a firm part of my life, probably more than any other horror property, and that includes Scream (I love Scream). One of my favorite nights ever involved a bootleg production of Evil Dead: The Musical deep in the Maryland woods (I was drenched in fake blood). The Evil Dead is my best friend’s favorite horror movie. I’ve had three different Grindr dates over the years put on The Evil Dead for me to watch. Bruce Campbell is certainly an aphrodisiac, but I’m not sure Deadite splatter is…
The Evil Dead has been everywhere, so formative in not just horror’s history but my own, that I remain somewhat confounded that it’s largely not a franchise I care for. I think The Evil Dead is fine as a gag, and its sequel, Evil Dead II, a more streamlined, gorier gag. I admire the vision of Army of Darkness, and growing up, I even played Evil Dead: Hail to the King and Evil Dead: A Fistful of Boomstick. They’re fine, but still leagues ahead of the more recent asynchronous multiplayer entry. Friends dragged me to see Fede Alvarez’s remake/reboot no fewer than five times. Everyone always asks if I’ve seen the show (I have, and it wasn’t for me). Evil Dead Rise… well, it released.
Strangely, too (and please don’t rev your chainsaws at me), Sébastien Vaniček’s Evil Dead Burn looks like the entry that might finally win me over. In truth, though, the broad appeal has largely evaded me for my entire, horror-loving adult life. Make no mistake; I’ll happily and easily concede The Evil Dead is a masterpiece. What Sam Raimi and company accomplished there was no small feat, and the way they’ve managed to sustain a franchise largely immune to diminishing returns after almost 50 years is nothing short of impressive.
Seriously, think of another horror franchise that’s been a hit with both audiences and critics across every respective entry. Scream, Halloween, Friday the 13th, every other horror project under the sun, really, all have duds. Big ones, too. Even the worst Evil Dead is held in higher regard than some of those franchises’ very best. And I think as horror fans, we’re all entitled to one good scare, or lack thereof. Evil Dead is mine – I don’t get it. But you’ve no doubt got yours. Maybe it’s incredulity about Art the Clown, or boredom toward Freddy Krueger’s many midnight rendezvous. We can’t all love everything, is what I’m saying.
And again, Evil Dead is by no means bad – I’d never say that. The deadites themselves are incredible. They’re gruesome, foul, off-putting, and largely static across decades of franchise history. It’s one of the coolest movie monsters because there’s so little need for change. Just drop them into a new locale with new day players and watch as carnage is unleashed. Raimi discovered gold with that formula, and it’s why, save for some detours here or there, it’s been so refreshingly consistent.
But my perspective does open up some unspoken wounds in the horror community, and that’s the idea of the real horror fan. I’m pretty immune to the criticism now. There have been some pieces across my time here at Dread that had the internet at large questioning whether I could be trusted—nay, allowed—to say anything about the horror genre. Sorry, I think Darkness Falls is a good movie, and I’ll die on that sword.
Broadly, that kind of discourse is important. Now, I’m not suggesting it’s good that people DM me anti-birthday wishes (true story), but rather that, with good behavior, we should be open to hearing diverse perspectives. Let me give you an example.
When Terrifier was first released, I didn’t get it. In fact, I was outright hostile toward its existence. The sequel didn’t do anything to win me over, either. Expectedly, I had no desire to see Terrifier 3. But Terrifier is Terrifier, and the positive word-of-mouth was impossible to ignore. So, I not only saw Terrifier 3 in theaters but also revisited the first theatrically and Terrifier 2 on streaming. Now? I get it, and I’ll be there Day One for Terrifier 4.
That’s the thing I love most about the horror genre: the fluidity. One day, we dislike something, and in time, we harness the spirit of John Carpenter’s The Thing and reclaim something once thought broken and beyond redemption. It’s a chronic negotiation between diverse tastes and an ever-expanding field of filmmakers trying new things. It doesn’t always land, but in the best of times, we can come around to accepting and adoring the vision. Even in the worst of times, we can remain open to why something might have resonated, even if it eludes our personal preferences. Just look at Backrooms and Obsession. Love them or hate them, they’re keystones in the conversation, and we can approach them critically without outright dismissing their impact.
So, I’m not intending to dismiss The Evil Dead. I’ll be seeing Evil Dead Burn at release. I’ll continue to validate friends and family who think it’s the greatest cinematic achievement of all time, too. And, hey, maybe one day, I’ll pop one of Raimi’s entries into the VHS player again (I’m old-school), and it will all just click for me. I’ll be as possessed as Betsey Baker’s Linda, and my life will never be the same.
Categorized:Editorials