American Nightmare

Low budget exploitation movies, and I'm talking those made with friends instead of actors or shot with a DV camera any schmuck can buy at Best Buy or wherever, are usually a losing bet. What can be an avenue for a maverick writer or director is more often than not an exercise in futility: sub-par everything without the usual exploitation benefits of good, gory special effects. Something to be avoided. American Nightmare is something different, and for exploitation cinema that's a rarity.

I honestly never thought I'd write these words: where Halloween popularized the slasher film and Scream sounded it's death knell, American Nightmare actually reinvents the slasher film.



Big words indeed, and how can one low budget film actually do anything for such an exploitative, artistically derisive genre? A genre that's rarely if ever, even considering how many films have been labeled as such, given the popular consciousness any story worth telling or a character worth following. I'm not going to say that American Nightmare does any of these things, but it comes close, and thematically, actually has something to say.

American Nightmare is a slasher film that is literally about dying. The kill scenes, instead of being drawn-out stalkings ending in gory death are instead shot in close-up, usually just the face of the victim, the means of death off-screen. The camera is left to linger, the ultimate voyeur experience: watching a personal act both of the killer and the victim. In this way it's both chilling and more violent than any explicit killing.



That's a rarity: American Nightmare is one of the few slasher's that's actually chilling. Not scary. I honestly don't think any slasher movie has been scary since Halloween, but chilling in the sparseness and frankness of it's scenes. Every act committed by the killer is portrayed not as a simple plot point or notch in a body count, but an outpouring of grief and madness; all born out of the near-brilliant performance of Debbie Rochon.

She's awesome. Rochon is intense to watch. I've seen her in numerous Troma films where she's never been one to turn down a decent topless scene, but this is the first time I've actually seen her act. Color me impressed. As the killer in the film, there's no mystery that she's also the protagonist. There's no final girl, no mystery as to the killer's identity, it's Rochon's show all the way. The actual reason for her killings is barely hinted at, but the audience is never left looking for a reason: it's obvious she's got a personal grudge with someone or anyone. I'm leaning towards the latter. This comes through most often in the improvised dialogue. Hardly cohesive, full of obscenities and ready to leap off the screen at any moment, What could easily have been written off as overacted comes off as legitimately dangerous.



Aside from the typical low-budget traps of terrible lighting and sub-par camera work, American Nightmare is an A-level slasher. For the first time in 20+ years it does something new with the genre. I'm flabbergasted to be honest. And there goes the last of my integrity. I know, this has been a serious kind of review, but any fan of horror movies in general or interesting independent affairs should definitely see American Nightmare. To make up for the lack of exploitation in this review, I'll provide the ultimate spoiler: like any good scream queen, Rochon does provide us with an ample view of her physical attributes. It's kinda awesome. Viva la B-movie!



*** out of ****