Whether you believe The Cabin in the Woods was a deconstruction of the horror genre or a loving ode, professing a societal need for cinematic chaos, blood and gore, I still think it had one big misstep in its overall execution.
Using standard horror tropes to tell its story, I never felt co-writers Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard addressed why they were using genre cliches outside of a prolonged, feature-length bit of self-awareness. The problem I had with this is that if you don’t have an overall reason for using cliches, they simply end up being cliches no matter how aware you are that you’re using them.
While people have complained about critics spoiling the film, there is little to Cabin that is kept secret. From the outset we know there is a facility of some sorts pulling the strings, we know they are carrying out some ancient ritual in order to save the world, we know this is a nasty job but it has to be done and we know the group of kids heading to the cabin have to die. With that established, the film plays out, escalating in carnage, but offering few unexpected surprises along the way, which is where I went looking for more in hopes there was… more.
Believing some secret was being kept hidden, my mind was racing as to what else could be going on. There were the people in the facility (led by Bradley Whitford and Richard Jenkins) carrying out their duty, making sure people died in the proper order and their blood (miraculously) finding its way to the lower depths once they did. The traditional ’80s slasher movie (zombies in this case) is playing out above ground with the story’s only twist being the folks below ground, and these were the people I was trying to figure out. Who were they? Who were they working for?
This was where my wishful ending comes into play.
First I considered how cliche the story in the cabin actually was — the jock (Chris Hemsworth), stoner (Fran Kranz), slut (Anna Hutchison), nerd/minority (Jesse Williams) and virgin (Kristen Connolly); the moment they decide to split up; and how they are knocked off one-by-one and I started to put a name to the face.
We already know we aren’t dealing with just a regular facility. In all respects, this is a horror film chemistry lab, taking bits and pieces of old movies and reusing them for a new one. My only instinct was to tell me it wasn’t a scientific facility at all, it was a Hollywood movie studio, these were the screenwriters and execs outlining their latest genre release. The irony was that while they are making crummy and tired horror films, they’re also saving the world.
I was 100% convinced, Whitford and Jenkins were playing a pair of doltish studio execs giving notes and playing “choose your own adventure” with their latest project in real-time. We were getting a look at the inner-workings of the Hollywood machine and their process in making generic horror films and — gasp and shock — the reality of it is so disturbing we learn the process of recycling used horror cliches is actually killing our children. Oh well, gotta kill a few to save the many.
Until the film’s actual conclusion, I saw it as, first and foremost, a commentary on the lack of imagination studios have today when making horror films and how they have metaphorically killed the genre and the audience that goes to see them.
My ending had Sigourney Weaver‘s character as the head of the studio, pissed off when Marty and Dana survive the zombie attack and throw a wrench in an otherwise ancient formula that has turned out successful horror films for over 30 years. Their survival meant something unique was in the works and that just wouldn’t do.
In my ending, instead of revealing the giant hand of doom, I thought there would be an equivalent tracking shot out of the underground bunker only to reveal studio gates and the Hollywood Hills. Maybe a giant billboard with the film’s actual movie poster reading “Cabin in the Woods Coming Soon! You haven’t seen a horror film like this in six months!”
I even went so far as to assume that’s why it had to be made at MGM, a studio that was no longer playing with the big boys and could freely take a shot at their safe and generic ways. Even Lionsgate picking it up still made sense, and their machine-like, gate-opening logo (watch to the right) could have been the ending I reference above, making for an ironic joke that could have played at the end of the film rather than the beginning.
All the reasoning was there and the film just needed to play out at that point. Unfortunately, for me and my theory, it didn’t end up that way and while I had a lot of fun watching as the carnage on screen unfolded, I couldn’t help but feel let down that Whedon and Goddard brought all the cliches of the horror genre to light only to do so little with them.
When it comes to the ending as is, I do like how it offers up the opinion that horror films are a necessary evil of sorts. As much as people like to blame horror films, video games and Marilyn Manson for societal ills whenever anything tragic happens, The Cabin in the Woods seems to profess that without such escapism entertainment our world would devolve into absolute chaos and total annihilation. I like that and it was well executed.
Cabin definitely shows an appreciation for the genre, but I don’t think it offers a model I want other films necessarily following, largely because this notion of self-aware entertainment is reaching a point where it needs to come to an end. “Yeah, we know it’s cliche to have zombies rise from the dead after some virgin reads a Latin passage from an ancient book, but since we know it’s cliche it’s okay.” No, it’s not… it’s cliche.
