Welcome back to the scariest, and at times goriest, column here at Film Inquiry: Horrific Inquiry. Twice a month, I will be tackling all things horror, bringing two films back into the spotlight to terrify and frighten once more. And occasionally looking at those that could have pushed the envelope further. Join us as we dive deep into the heart of horror, but warning, there will be spoilers.
“Someone’s in the backseat!” – Urban Legend
Horror films are notorious for discovering terror in every avenue of life. The immersion of real life and the unimaginable transcends viewers into terrifying cinematic experiences that can have them looking behind doors for sharks, covering mirrors, and refusing to answer the phone late at night. And while some films have found their strength in fresh perspectives and a new sense of originality, others have looked to the horrors that had haunted campfires and clubhouses for decades. Stories told under the flickering of flashlights and fire, darkness shrouding the truth they may or may not hold. For one film, in particular, the contemporary folklore of urban legends becomes its driving force of terror. Released during the height of the 1990s slasher era, Jamie Blanks’ Urban Legend may not be the best film of the time, but it certainly proves the power of horror within a scary story.
The Heart of Horror
In a sense, Urban Legend is its own tribute to the horror genre, its cast alone is comprised of undeniable legends of the genre. Robert England (A Nightmare on Elm Street), Danielle Harris (Halloween 5), and Brad Dourif (Child’s Play) each appear in the film, their on-screen time-varying, yet giving the feel of a movie that knows its roots. And while this is immediately apparent in both director Blanks and screenwriter Silvio Horta overall story, casting, and direction of the film, composer Christopher Young is the first to deliver the history of horror cinema within the film’s opening score.
Urban Legend opens where most horror films find themselves – in a thunderstorm. As heavy rain falls on the pavement, a car is shown driving along an abandoned road. There is not much to the scene that immediately stands out, other than the film’s score. There is a familiarity to it, one that seems to speak to the popular 1980s films Urban Legend seems to draw its inspiration from. Christopher Young’s score instantly sounds reminiscent of Danny Elfman, specifically his score for Edward Scissorhands. It is light and vaguely familiar, standing on its own legs yet drawing its audience into a false sense of security – drawing you into a grim fairy tale.
The score does not last long however as the film begins to take its audience into its opening scene. As viewers follow the filmmaker’s eye, we are brought into the car, its driver changing from a local campus radio station to Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. As the lyrics “Turn Around” are sung over and over by the car’s driver, Michelle (Natasha Greyson Wagner), Urban Legend winks at its audience, the film quietly giving its viewers a prelude to the action that is about to unfold.
Always check the back seat
Realizing she has run low on gas, Michelle stops for gas, the abandoned setting of the road carrying over to the station. An attendant (Brad Dourif) comes out to put gas in her car, a look of discovery passing his face as he stares into in the back seat. The gas station attendant is initially introduced with a stutter, making not only Michelle look intolerant by calling him a creep (seemingly justifying her subsequent attack), but presenting a deeper issue with the attendant’s discovery. As he tries to lure her into the station with a false story about her credit card company on the phone, his inability to communicate and Michelle’s perceptions of potential harm cause her to flee the station. As the attendant finally finds his words, it is too late as the “someone in the backseat” slowly rises, raising their ax and decapitating Michelle as she drives away.
While the opening is effective in establishing the film’s direction, it does lean into the predictability of the 1990s slasher formula. We all know Michelle was never going to survive the opening scene, and given the title, figuring out which urban legend the opening is bringing to life isn’t too hard to figure out either. Yet, even with all that, the film welcomes its viewers to suspend their belief, and go along for the ride, quickly transitioning into the telling of our next urban legend.
It’s just a scary story
Urban Legend drives its central premise hard, especially in the beginning. Following its opening scene, viewers are brought to the film’s central location of Pendleton University, a group of students discussing their own on-campus urban legend. As the story goes, one night a professor snapped, walking to Stanley Hall and slitting the throat of any student that opened the door in response to his knock. While there is no evidence to substantiate the tale, giving it the urban legend it requires, the campus fraternities surround their events around its supposed anniversary.
While the audience is given the chance to take in the macabre gothic nature of the campus, as well as other subsequent legends at play, we land in the lecture hall for the contemporary folklore class run by none other than Robert England. There is a fire and playfulness in the eyes of Englund that gives authenticity to the study at hand and the interactions of his students. A fire that will play into the red herring he becomes a part of later on in the film.
As the classic face of horror is used front and center to give a stage to its own onscreen legend, Urban Legend also begins to craft a deeper understanding of the students the film surrounds and the idea of legends overall. Many of the legends relayed to viewers have seen brought to life on screen, either before or after the film, and this scene becomes a bit of its own class in horror. And while the scene is effective in establishing and maintaining character and narrative, the real-life legends begin to come to life.
Character Horror
It doesn’t take long for the body count to build, each death brought about by the enactment of a legend. The boyfriend hanging over the car, the old lady who dries her animal in the microwave, and the missing kidney. Urban Legend finds its strength in the execution of its folklores, giving them their own taste of contemporary improvements while maintaining a steady pace.
Where the film truly fumbles is in its character development. In many 1990s slasher films, characters are literally on screen as forms of bait, a craft to draw in the crowds, drive the body count, and exist for the sole purpose of being destroyed. And far too often, they are portrayed with their own distasteful characteristics of the time that solidify their untimely ends. And Urban Legend is no exception. Too often, characters weave in and out of the story, their purpose little more than to die in an increasingly gruesome fashion, giving little reason for viewers to care or be concerned. There is no heightened intensity for who is next, but rather how they will go.
Urban Legend however falters mostly in the underutilization of its two central characters – journalist Paul Gardener (Jared Leto) and Natalie Simon (Alicia Witt). Where it can be argued both Leto and Witt‘s performances were poorly delivered, it’s not as though the film committed to them more than being strictly a final girl and boy. Leto‘s Paul feels nothing more than a piece of meat to attract a more female-infused audience, many times underutilized in the film – except to keep shining those baby blues. Witt too fails to generate the intensity of her increasing predicament, the bodies building around her leading to more of a distraught whine than pure terror.
Yet, not all is lost in its menagerie of cast and character, standouts in Rebecca Gayheart and Loretta Devine are the strongest elements within the film. If I was, to be honest, it is Devine‘s performance and subsequent appearance in the sequel that makes you want to come back for more. Devine is the quirky wanna-be cop that, while checking the cliches, feels the most believable. She welcomes a connection with her character and her audience, especially as Reese is the only one that truly exemplifies any sort of character growth from start to finish.
Gayheart‘s Brenda is truly a standout performance as well. There is insanity that flickers through her eyes, reminiscent of Englund‘s from the beginning of the film, but deeper and more unpredictable. She lays just below the surface, many of the characters working around her, rather than Brenda being a central figure. She fulfills the friend sidekick role, offering support to the final girl, and even confronting the “final” face-off with the killer. Yet, in a cinematic twist, it is revealed that she is the killer. Her movements on and off screen take on an entirely new perspective, allowing the audience to not only reshape their viewing of the film but their expectations as well. Gayheart is wildly reminiscent of Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman from Tim Burton‘s Batman Returns, yet uniquely all her own. Had the film around her be more of a success, her performance would be one talked about more within the horror community.
Conclusion
Urban Legend may have become a legend of its own in the subsequent years since its release, yet it still retains its place within the slasher films of the 1990s. And while it does not boast itself as the best, the legends it holds, the horror it honors, the red herrings it constantly crafts and the twist ending make it at least an entertaining viewing experience.
Have you seen Urban Legend? What did you think? Let us know in the comments below!
Watch Urban Legend
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