Write a commentI'm certain the frustration is mounting.
For those of you who have been reading the reviews I've been posting, I'm sure many of you skip to the actual critique of the film in question. When I was taking writing classes, all of my professors would say that, as a writer, "You need to find your voice." One professor in particular explained, "Treat your writing as though it's a story you're telling a person face-to-face." Considering that, that's what you guys get. I frustrate people all the time in person. Why not do it via a movie review?
In December of 2002, I was informed that a play I submitted to an on campus play contest had been selected as one of six to get a staged reading during the spring semester. I was elated, but also incredibly nervous. I'd never had anything of mine read aloud, let alone in front of a full audience. Once the spring semester began, my anxiety kicked in full force. There were announcements all over campus about the impending performance and I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I invited family members and friends, but there were a few people in the classes I was taking that I wanted to invite.
At the time, I was taking acting classes in order to move on into directing classes. Many of my classmates heard about the show and told me about how excited they were to see it. I was grateful for the kind words but didn't expect much. Often, people will say nice things because they're nice and not because they intend to follow through. One person in particular (we'll call her Margo) was very enthusiastic. She would ask me questions about my inspiration, if there was a part for her and things similar to that.
A couple of things to bear in mind here:
1. While I was in high school, I was barely acknowledged by the opposite gender. They'd sometimes say "excuse me" when walking past me or "bless you" when I sneezed, but that was really about it.
2. Margo was very personable and beautiful. She had an effortless charm to her that lent itself to her acting abilities. She was naturally magnetic.
The fact that Margo was speaking to me at all was perplexing to me. Why would she bother? The cynic in me believed either she was just being polite like so many others or she was attempting to con me into writing her a role in another play. I answered her questions awkwardly and went about my day.
A few days before the performance, I wrote a list of 21 people. 3 rows of 7. People who said they'd come, people who I wanted to come. People I expected to come. Some people kept their word; others did not. The notable exception was Margo.
She arrived and headed straight for me with open arms. Something didn't compute when she approached. Her hands were far enough apart to indicate a hug, but her right hand was slightly extended as though she wanted me to shake her hand. I extended my hand and then opened my arms, confused. Then I cycled through the motions a second time. Margo stood there, confused and laughing.
"Not sure what you want to do," she asked.
I leaned down, hugging her. It was brief, awkward.
When I pulled back, she said, "Glad you figured it out."
I nodded. All I could muster was, "Yeah."
She said, "Break a leg."
I said, "It's not my legs I'm worried about. It's the actors. They should...well..."
Margo said, "Adam, it's an expression."
She made her way to a seat. The performance went okay. For whatever reason, the director of my play changed my script without asking. It was definitely disheartening, but I tucked that away for the time. Once it was over, I made my way to the reception in the lobby.
People milled about. Some of my friends were there, few family members. Margo stood at the fringes, looking at me. We made eye contact and she nodded. She walked to me, right hand extended. I hugged her. It felt more natural this time.
She said to me, "Great job. It was really funny. Maybe you can write one for me next year."
I laughed and said, "Maybe I will."
Margo looked at my parents, nodding. She said, "Well, I gotta get going. I don't want to keep you or anything. Great job again."
She disappeared into the crowd. My father walked to my side, watching Margo exit. He said, "Who was that?"
My mother yelled, "Donny", admonishing him in front of a crowd of unfamiliar college students and faculty.
A few weeks later, I looked at the list of people I had written out before the performance. I blacked out everyone that didn't show up. Four down and one over, surrounded by blacked out names was Margo's. It was almost as though she was on display. In my head, right then, I knew I had to write her a part.
I thought (and overthought) about it. Margo had pretty great comic timing so I decided to write a comedy. The week before the annual play contest deadline, I began writing the play. I edited it up until the deadline, submitting it with only a few minutes to spare. I had no expectations it would be selected.
At the time, I was working at Blockbuster. The company had a program where it allowed employees to view movies prior to their release dates in order to sell them better to the public. In December of 2003, a movie came in that looked positively terrible. Named "Shredder", the cover art was intriguing enough. Your standards become incredibly low when things are free.
A couple of days later, a Thursday, I put on "Shredder". It was cold and blustery outside. My extended family was in the kitchen having a late lunch. My house phone rang and my father came in, handing it to me. I paused the movie. "Who is it?"
He grinned. "A girl."
"Do they have the right number," I asked.
He shoved the phone into my hand. I cleared my throat directly into the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hey, congratulations! Oh. It's Margo."
"What are you congratulating me for?"
"I was told by a little birdie that your play was selected for New Voices. Wait. Am I interrupting something?"
I glanced at the TV. The image of a decapitated body bleeding into the snow was frozen on screen. "...No, of course not."
She saw right through it. "Oh, no. I'll let you go."
"No, no. I'm...just watching a bad horror movie."
Margo laughed. "What's it called?"
"'Shredder'. A crazed skier hates snowboarding so he kills anyone that snowboards on his mountain, I guess."
"We should watch that when I get back from winter break. Sounds amazing."
We talked for a bit more. She had to get going because she was packing for her trip home. She congratulated me again and hung up. I put the phone down, grinning. My father came back into the living room, standing a few feet away from me.
"Wasn't a wrong number, was it," he asked.
This moment cemented my pursuit of writing as a career and "Shredder" into the annals of my personal history. In the years since, I've purchased "Shredder" on two different physical media formats. I even own it as a special edition Blu-Ray. As many of you know, Blu-Ray gives you a better picture and sound quality. If you're able to derive any enjoyment out of "Shredder", it's certainly not reliant upon a decent picture or sound.
It has a pretty straightforward plot, as most slashers do. A group of "kids" go to an abandoned ski resort to spend some time snowboarding when they start getting picked off one-by-one by a mysterious skier. There's the "nice guy" (portrayed with the charisma of a cinder block by Scott Weinger), the "hot girl" (McKeon) and the stoner (O'Sullivan) among others. No character is given much, if any time, to develop before they're dispatched.
The one thing this movie has going for it is the setting and atmosphere. There is something inherently creepy about an abandoned ski resort. There are legitimate moments of dread smattered throughout. It's truly a shame that there's no real tension. Much of the runtime seems like the filmmakers were rushing. Maybe if there was a little more time put into the sequences, the film would be better known.
I'm sure the question you're asking yourself right now is, "Why?" Maybe more specifically, "Why is he reviewing this movie that's old enough to legally drink that no one knows about?"
The short answer is because I feel like it could gain an audience. There are much worse movies out there that have a greater following. There are a lot of people out there that will swear by any and all of the "Terrifier" movies as though they're some sort of modern classic. The thing about those films is they're not even remotely fun. They're just mean spirited and pretty poorly made. I guess the main difference between those movies and "Shredder" is that "Shredder" isn't trying to be anything besides what it is. "Terrifier" gained a fan base (somehow) and now the series is too self-serious. "Shredder", at no point, takes itself at all seriously. It makes for a more fun experience.
The longer answer is something I've touched on in previous reviews. Sometimes, the quality of the movie isn't as important as the time in your life when you watched it. "Shredder", for better or worse, will always remind me of the time when I was completely happy. Proud, even. Hopeful for the future. It makes me remember that I can be happy and not always the cynic I present most frequently. Most people see me on the street and assume that I just received devastating news. The expression on my face often betrays my true inner workings. Or sometimes, it doesn't.
When I'm feeling down, whether it's around the holidays or just in general, I won't often put on a cinema classic. It's more likely than not going to be something like "Troll 2", "Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers" or "Shredder". Movies act as the closest thing humankind has created thus far to a time machine. They help us remember the people we watched them with even if they're no longer with us. They remind us of the good times in the past and the possibility of good times in the future.
"Shredder" is not a great movie. It's actually pretty bad. But it will always remind me of the night where I was proud of myself and the whole world was in front of me. Well, that and the still image of the headless body of a nameless snowboarder.
Rating (out of ****): *1/2
"Shredder" is available on Tubi for free. You can also purchase it on DVD or Blu-Ray.
Shredder (2001)
Directed by Greg Huson
Cast: Scott Weinger, Lindsey McKeon, Billy O'Sullivan, Holly Towne, Candace Moon
Runtime: 86 minutes
MPAA Rating: R for violence/gore, sexuality, language and some drug use.
