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A Fox release. Written by Broken Lizard; directed by Jay Chandrasekhar; starring Jay Chandrasekhar, Kevin Heffernan, Steve Lemme, Paul Soter and Erik Stolhanske. Released to DVD on May 25, 2004.  Obstacles present themselves when you least expect them. Rarely do you have an opportunity to slowly work your way up to an impending challenge. Entering the screening room to see Broken Lizard’s Club Dread–a strange post-modern horror/comedy mix with an emphasis on gratuitous jiggle shots–I had no idea that I was positing myself to view one of the most challenging films I’ve seen during my seven years writing about film. Challenging, for no matter how hard I’ve tried, I am absolutely unable to explain why I so supremely enjoyed this film. After much thought and reflection, the closest I’ve come to an explanation is the singular and completely ineffective: because. Set on an island resort in the Caribbean, Club Dread follows the protocol and formula of a typical horror film. Someone is killing off the young and attractive people working at the resort, one by one. A hardy group of survivors is forced to deal with the rampaging madman. However, unlike typical horror films, Club Dread is completely aware of the ludicrous nature of its plot and set up. Filled with a bevy of walking punchlines (as played by the members of the comedy troupe, Broken Lizard, Jay Chandrasekhar, Kevin Heffernan, Steve Lemme, Paul Soter and Erik Stolhanske) and highlighted by the character of Coconut Pete (Bill Paxton), an aging singer somewhat akin to Jimmy Buffett, it is impossible to take Club Dread seriously. Despite all appearances to the contrary, this is not a horror film or even a standard comedy; Club Dread is a farce that is nonetheless treated with the utmost seriousness and importance.  The impact of this decision to make Club Dread a very cleverly disguised farce is both the project’s greatest asset and drawback. It didn’t take me long to realize that Broken Lizard’s third film was an extremely tongue-in-cheek comedy; by employing some of the same ridiculous conventions of the mid-‘80’s horror films with a much different and comedically off-the-wall contingent of characters, Club Dread was definitely poking fun at the campy and oft irrational nature of the genre. As the main characters are introduced to the audience in a series of freeze-frames during the film’s opening minutes, each character is given his own motive for possibly being the island’s deranged lunatic. Several of the characters have legitimate motives, be they jealousy or mistreatment at the hands of their colleagues. Others, like Soter’s Dave, do not; Dave is miffed because he is denied a margarita by an attractive woman. At this point in time, a question arises for the audience: is this funny or dumb? It’s not a conscious choice, mind you–you can’t make yourself be amused by something–it’s an ingrained response in the viewer. I found it particularly entertaining. Unfortunately for Broken Lizard, if you don’t take into account the full spectrum of the project, it’s extremely easy to misinterpret the farcical nature of the project as pure stupidity. This isn’t to suggest that there aren’t any other forms of humor or entertainment in Club Dread, far from it. There are an inordinate amount of jokes and sight gags in the film, though some are so subtle and veiled that I didn’t pick up on them until someone else mentioned them to me. In this respect, Club Dread is slightly reminiscent of Broken Lizard’s last feature, Super Troopers. Even though both Club Dread and Super Troopers were written by and feature Broken Lizard and were directed by Chandrasekhar, there aren’t a host of other similarities. Where Super Troopers was an overt, laugh-out-loud comedy, Club Dread is distinctly not. There are a few gut-bustingly funny moments in Club Dread, but the overall tone of the material is far more subversive and subtle than it was in Super Troopers. In this respect, it would have seemed wise to let the cult phenomenon of Super Troopers lie in the past; it’s hard enough to generate enthusiasm for a smaller comedy without directly referencing a known and successful commodity for comparison.  Sadly, the tie in between Club Dread and Super Troopers was one of the biggest marketing points for Fox and Club Dread found itself, rather unfairly, compared to Super Troopers at every opportunity. "From the Guys Who Brought You Super Troopers" is plastered prominently on all of Club Dread’s posters and press materials. The end result of my screening was a viewing experience that I can only describe as entertaining and sublime. There are numerous reasons why I shouldn’t have enjoyed Club Dread as much as I did–the acting isn’t particularly great, the development of the plot is slightly lacking and the continuity of the project is suspect at times–but the truth of the matter is that, in this unusual case, the whole doesn’t equal the sum of its parts. It’s not rational or logical, but I really liked this movie. Why, you ask? Because. | |||||
