The Lights (2009, Review)
Director: John Sjogren
Cast: Derek Lee Nixon, Kerry Wallum, Oscar Lusth, Joe Estevez, Cathy Baron, Elizabeth Jauregui
Osiris Entertainment / NTSC Region 0 / Not Rated / Color / Widescreen / Dolby Digital 2.0 / 86 Minutes
For every estimated twenty or so films watched, there will be a single viewing which one can not take seriously. Instead of closing your mind to the film’s ridiculous nature, there is a seeping captivation into the brain like a worm moving through loose dirt, wrapping around your brain in a blanket of stupidity and colossal confusion. The Lights does not preen itself as an award winning film, but what horror film does? By looking at the cover art, the suspicious feel of b-horror spontaneously pops into that brain-worm-warped mind. There was no clue to what I letting myself get into when popping in the DVD. There wasn’t just one worm that took grasp of my already warped cerebrum, but a dozen, perhaps two dozen, ravaged me, forcing me into a solitude state of sitting in my own dumbed-down puddle of drool.
Four friends take a road trip to the Texas back-country to watch a meteor shower that occurs every 91 and half years. What seems to be a playful and releasing journey of youthful freedom and excitement turns quickly south. Ignoring several warnings about their “Dead Man’s Curve” destination, the group sets forth and encounters “The Lights”; a natural phenomenon of two colored lit orbs that hover the night sky. The spectacle is magical, but with the introduction to “The Lights” comes darkness as the foursome trespass on the land of infamous Jack Carter, a local serial killer with a taste for arbitrary murder.
Obviously from my introductory spiel, many things went awry for the John Sjogren film. The Lights begins with everything seemingly perfect for Jack Carter: a quaint home, a delicious dinner and a beautiful wife named Caroline. There is just one little problem; Caroline discloses her one-year affair. Sending Jack into a frenzy, he takes a ball-peen hammer to his wife, but unfortunately, we are totally left out of this implied murder – thanks, appreciate it. Jack commits his deadly sin while wearing a baby blue Hawaiian shirt…which he never takes off. Years later, Jack’s murders continue while wearing the same palm tree printed button-down shirt, making him less threatening. The worst part is is that Jack Carter is the best character in The Lights.
The adjoining cast were unlikeable and as bland as white wallpaper. I didn’t want one single character to survive their Jack Carter “ordeal”. Even Martin Sheen’s brother Joe Estevez couldn’t raise any hopes of being interesting and the guy thrives as b-horror regular. You know a project is in trouble when a supporting cast member was a participant from the Survivor reality shows. Oscar Lusth, in his first feature role, didn’t transfer any survivor mentality over to his drowning, cry-for-help performance as halfwit astronomy enthusiast named “Steve”. The hopes for the other characters were quickly squashed as the continuing trend of bad jokes, ear gouging dialogue and random thoughts and actions just warranted a merciful quick death for each and every one of them.
If it wasn’t for the brief bloody scenes and the mention of “mother-fucker” twice, The Lights would have been PG-13. What kind of wickedly sick person would tease with two actresses discarding clothes twice in the duration of a horror movie just to keep undergarments on? Aside from their clueless acting, Cathy Baron’s and Elizabeth Jauregui’s slender bodies were the highlights of this agony. A little exposure of their obvious better qualities would have made The Lights.
So, you’re probably wondering about the titular subject matter and what they hell they have to do with the rest of the movie. The lights become the flimsy connection to Jack’s haywire antics. One character mentions the lights being a cause for the area’s many deaths. The phenomenon’s origin is a mystery and their presence seem sporadic and aimless. Their objective is also uncertain because Jack was already insane when offing his wife and the lights were not present. The lights become a wasted motivational vehicle when there lies an already back story motive.
The Lights shine only on the movies unintentional humor. No outstanding qualities came from the weak slasher and I expected more from a director who was directed the 1995 action flick Redline and had worked with b-movie stars such as Joe Estevez and Michael Madsen on numerous occasions. A plethora of random scenes that don’t fit in the film stand out; one scene focuses on a man watching a fuzzy picture of auto racing and another has the main foursome frolicing with miniature horses – and there are more scenes like this. The Lights is a dim excuse for a film and should be retitled The Lights Out.
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