DRAG ME TO HELL (2009)

* * * *
PG C-99m. USA
D: Sam Raimi. Alison Lohman, Justin Long, Lorna Raver
Not recommended for children under 13 or sensitive viewers

Tagline: Christine Brown has a good job, a great boyfriend, and a bright future. But in three days, she's going to hell.

Uh-oh.

The first sentence of the tagline sounds like any standard date movie, doesn’t it? Just about every movie of this type sets us up to watch the Pretty Protagonist’s Picture-Perfect life get derailed by something – whether it’s a romantic or professional rival, a serial killer, or a mere Three’s Company-esque misunderstanding. But with the director of the Evil Dead movies, as well as 1998’s more bleakly thought-provoking A Simple Plan at the helm, you’re in good (bloody, nail-bitten) hands.

Boy, are you ever.

Christine Brown (Alison Lohman of Matchstick Men and Where the Truth Lies) is a nice young woman from the farm who is on the cusp on success in the big city. She has a promising career as a loan officer, with an excellent chance at a much-coveted promotion. Her boyfriend Clay, (Justin Long of the Mac ™ ads) is also nice – and a wealthy young college professor to boot. Is there such a thing? I mean, the guy’s in his early 20s – hardly old enough to drink, let alone wear elbow patches on his jacket.

But I digress. Clay is an affable dude, and cute in a nerdy way. He’s not movie-star handsome at all, but there’s something oddly endearing about him. I’m not just ragging on Justin Long – there’s a point. His characterization is just right, because the way Christine frets over their relationship, you’d think he was a Hollywood hottie. Clay is not out of reach, but the poor girl can’t help feeling that he’s out of her league, thanks to accidentally overhearing him talk to his overbearing witch of a mother on the phone, who urges him to stop fooling around with farm girls and find a "real partner".

Even his own family has an affectionate contempt for him – they don’t understand his hobby of collecting rare coins, for instance, but Christine does. You can see why he’s drawn to this sweet, unpretentious young woman who worked so hard to re-invent herself as an urbane sophisticate, and is still plagued by lingering insecurities of one not to the manor born. The term ‘personal demons’ takes a whole meaning after she meets Mrs. Garush (Lorna Raver, in a campily scene-stealing performance)

Poor, well-meaning Christine. She is compassionate and means well – the latter is actually one of her most infuriating traits, because it’s empty and useless when the damage is done. Like most of us, she truly believes that she’s a decent person and bewildered when she accidentally makes a dangerous enemy. She honestly doesn’t want to refuse a frail old lady with health problems an extension on her home. Mrs. Garush has a legitimate reason for not being able to pay her loan – anyone with an iota of compassion would give it to her, though they’d wear disposable gloves and spray the bank with Lysol ™ afterward.

If she had been a sweet-looking old granny, she might have elicited sympathy and a third loan extension. But not only does the promotion hovering over Christine’s head motivate her refusal, but her very revulsion of this smelly, dripping creature is certainly a factor. We all know that ‘beautiful people’ get preferential treatment in school, work, and the media. Christine is so anxious to get this thing out of her personal space that her natural compassion starts short-circuiting.

Mrs. Garush is a combination of Madame Zolta and the Crypt Keeper. Her nails ooze black blood and pus, and look like something out of the Saw movie posters. Her teeth are dead and rotting. Her dead eye, horribly mangled nails, slobbering gums, and… egad. She – it – is a gargoyle. A disgusting, pus-leaking old toad with dentures and a sweet tooth. She wasn’t just hit with the ugly stick, but bludgeoned with it. I’m a lookist – so sue me. I just wanted to slip on my disposable gloves, give her a good shake and plead, “Would it kill you to put on a little lipstick?” Lorna Raver is a great sport, and deserves special credit for her no-holds-barred performance. She takes a staple to the face like a champ – in fact, much better than Mickey Roarke in The Wrestler.

Our fresh-faced young loan officer is grossed out, but honestly wants to do the right thing, which is precisely the trouble. The ‘right thing’ conflicts with the right thing for her. But if she wants that promotion, she is told that the ideal candidate has to know how to make the ‘tough decision’. She does, and makes the worst call of her life.

A lot of her motivations are insecurity. As girl from the sticks, Christine has come a long way, but she still worries about deserving her good fortune. And that’s the question, really. Does she deserve it? And does she really deserve the wrath of a pissed-off gypsy with the worst personal hygiene since the Greed victim of Se7en?

Think about it. You might surprise yourself with the answer.

Christine doesn’t realize it, but she is a snob-in-the-making. Not that there’s anything wrong with self-improvement or ambition, but as warned by an Indian fortune-teller, she finds herself doing things she never dreamed of. She discovers that she has a grimly pragmatic side, and who could blame her? She’s forced into a corner and fights like a banshee, and just wait until she does. This movie has the best girl-fight scenes since the Kill Bill movies! She’s not Ash (of Evil Dead 1 and 2, and Army of Darkness ), but she’s still pretty groovy.

Sam Raimi doesn’t hold back on the goo and gore. You want shock ‘n’ schlock, you get it, boy. Houseflies… brrr. You’ll never sleep with the window open again. Raimi finds all kinds of ways to exchange bodily fluids that you’ve never thought of before. I’m a girl geek with a perchant for oddball horror films, and he knows the proper beats for horror and comic effect, so I was constantly caught off-guard.

I loved it!

Though hardly a ‘message movie’ – it’s really too disgustingly cartoony to be more than it claims to be – you might start thinking: How good is ‘good enough’? If you’re kind to animals and work hard to shed your unpolished past, can you re-invent yourself as a shiny new version? Is it really justifiable to make ‘the tough decisions’ as long as a) you’re way more qualified for a promotion than the toady who steals your work and b) a frail old woman doesn’t have the power to torture you with nightmares, maggots, and goat gods?

In lesser hands, you’d get a lame version of Richard Bachman’s (aka Stephen King’s) Thinner. The book was good. The movie was just so-so in comparison. But, bless his brilliant little diseased heart, Sam Raimi knows exactly what we gorehounds want and delivers the goods. From the in-your-face title introduction to an unexpected but perfect finish, Drag Me to Hell is both disgusting and hilarious. Raimi is like the Coen Brothers (and pre-Hook Steven Spielberg) that way – he makes the films he wants to make. He toys with our expectations, and is well aware that he has a loyal audience, and they want the laughs and the deliciously depraved, twisted moviemaking that has been his trademark for over thirty years. The Samster genuinely wants us to have a helluva good time.

Don’t worry… he’ll give you what you deserve.