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There’s tons of delicious suspense of the horror-flick variety to be had in writer-director André Øvredal’s mockumentary, and plenty of Spielbergian shock-awe, but what makes it one of the most satisfying examples of found-footage flicks yet is its observational, journalistic ethos.
Apollo 18 is not scary. It’s not intense. It’s not surprising. It’s supposed to be all these things and fails completely.
I suppose there’s a sort of cleverness in the direction Paranormal Activity 2 decided to take. Sequels are typically about one-upping their progenitor films by being bigger, faster, louder, more-er of everything. But the filmmakers went in the other direction: They aped the look and feel of Paranormal Activity but made everything else smaller and lesser. It’s a bold choice, if an odd one. And almost entirely predictably, it utterly fails to pay off.
So I finally saw this Paranormal Activity flick that all the kids are into today, and all I could conclude was, Really? They think this is pants-wetting scary?
For the glut of Summer 2000 bombs, we can blame Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez for being creative and inventive enough to knock Hollywood on its ass this summer with The Blair Witch Project, any deficiencies in which are more than amply made up for by its daring.
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