(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An insurance investigator begins discovering that the impact a horror writer's books have on his fans is more than inspirational.”
Without a doubt, the best films from writer/director John Carpenter deal almost directly – but not exclusively – with paranoia.
In 1982’s The Thing – a remake of the Christian Nyby 1951 original The Thing From Another Planet – has long been considered Carpenter’s best work. It’s a highly stylized look at how isolation and claustrophobia affect a South Pole crew of scientists cut-off from the outside world and being infiltrated by someone (or someTHING) who is most definitely not one of their own. A few years later, 1988’s They Live ratcheted up the psychological tension even further. When a homeless drifter discovers a pair of special sunglasses which allow him to detect subliminal messages planted everywhere, he and those around him begin to question just who is in control of society-at-large, suggesting an alien conspiracy to treat mankind like cattle. Even the auteur’s earlier success – 1978’s Halloween – excels at showing just how the idyllic suburbs or small-town America can be turned on its head in a moment with Michael Myers delivered darks aplenty. Evil – it would seem – could be everywhere and anywhere; and in Carpenter’s universe it’s perfectly acceptable and downright logical to keep one eye toward the present with the other one (if possible) always looking over one’s shoulder.
In 1994’s In The Mouth Of Madness, Carpenter directs a script from Michael De Luca, a screenwriter who transitioned out of the writing business and went on to a very storied future in the producer’s chair. De Luca’s work previously – so far as Horror is concerned – was largely in the world of Freddy Krueger – another creation built heavily and heartily around what fear does to a fragile mind. The budding talent put his worries and wit into scripts for Freddy’s Nightmares (1988-1989) – a somewhat lackluster TV iteration that really only used Krueger as a selling point and virtual host much in the way Rod Serling grounded The Twilight Zone – along with screenplays for Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991) and The Nightmare Begins Again (1993). Still, it’s easy to see how De Luca’s thought processes largely played into his developing In The Mouth Of Madness: indeed, there’s a dreamlike quasi-existence to everything that evolves in the 95-minute supernatural potboiler, so much so that its finale might have audiences wondering how much – if any – of what they just watched was real.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An insurance investigator begins discovering that the impact a horror writer's books have on his fans is more than inspirational.”
Without a doubt, the best films from writer/director John Carpenter deal almost directly – but not exclusively – with paranoia.
In 1982’s The Thing – a remake of the Christian Nyby 1951 original The Thing From Another Planet – has long been considered Carpenter’s best work. It’s a highly stylized look at how isolation and claustrophobia affect a South Pole crew of scientists cut-off from the outside world and being infiltrated by someone (or someTHING) who is most definitely not one of their own. A few years later, 1988’s They Live ratcheted up the psychological tension even further. When a homeless drifter discovers a pair of special sunglasses which allow him to detect subliminal messages planted everywhere, he and those around him begin to question just who is in control of society-at-large, suggesting an alien conspiracy to treat mankind like cattle. Even the auteur’s earlier success – 1978’s Halloween – excels at showing just how the idyllic suburbs or small-town America can be turned on its head in a moment with Michael Myers delivered darks aplenty. Evil – it would seem – could be everywhere and anywhere; and in Carpenter’s universe it’s perfectly acceptable and downright logical to keep one eye toward the present with the other one (if possible) always looking over one’s shoulder.
In 1994’s In The Mouth Of Madness, Carpenter directs a script from Michael De Luca, a screenwriter who transitioned out of the writing business and went on to a very storied future in the producer’s chair. De Luca’s work previously – so far as Horror is concerned – was largely in the world of Freddy Krueger – another creation built heavily and heartily around what fear does to a fragile mind. The budding talent put his worries and wit into scripts for Freddy’s Nightmares (1988-1989) – a somewhat lackluster TV iteration that really only used Krueger as a selling point and virtual host much in the way Rod Serling grounded The Twilight Zone – along with screenplays for Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991) and The Nightmare Begins Again (1993). Still, it’s easy to see how De Luca’s thought processes largely played into his developing In The Mouth Of Madness: indeed, there’s a dreamlike quasi-existence to everything that evolves in the 95-minute supernatural potboiler, so much so that its finale might have audiences wondering how much – if any – of what they just watched was real.
John Trent (played by screen veteran Sam Neill) isn’t just an insurance investigator: he’s among the very best of the trade. On a quest to uncover right from wrong – or, better yet, reality from illusion – he’s built a career incredible at decoding charlatans who would have bilked the companies who’ve contracted him independently of untold millions; and he’ll stop at nothing to turn over every stone on the path to establish truth from fiction. Those who hire him have come to expect only the very best, so when publishing magnate Jackson Harglow (Charlton Heston) believes his cash cow Horror author Sutter Cane (Jürgen Prochnow) may have fled the coup with his latest manuscript – In The Mouth Of Madness – in tow, the business mogul will stop at nothing to see the tome returned in kind.
Initially, Trent isn’t interested in the task, not seeing such a challenge as befitting his services. Indeed, the investigator suspects that Cane’s disappearance might even be suspiciously linked to some fawning publicity campaign – one concocted by Harglow and his aide, Linda Styles (Julie Carmen), to ramp up a media frenzy in anticipation of the writer’s next release. However, once Trent reads a few novels in an attempt to better understand the vanished author’s mind, he finds himself curiously drawn into the slowly-building mystery. When he stumbles across the hidden truth that Cane’s oft-mentioned Hobb’s End – a quaint fictional New England town that houses a lot of the writer’s best Horrors – might actually be a real place, then he can’t help but take the job, taking Stiles with him on a road trip that just might turn out to be into oblivion.
A great deal of critical thought has been expended online and elsewhere about the fact that Cane – as an identity – more than casually resembles the living and breathing Stephen King, and there’s no reason to argue or even consider that De Luca or Carpenter wished otherwise for their audience. King’s impressive career is exactly the kind of centerpiece around which a tale like Madness revolves as the script rather cleverly draws allusions to how our cultural preoccupation with being scared silly might be little more than a distraction from some deeper societal concerns. Even though actor Prochnow looks nothing like the storyteller, I’ve no doubt that audiences of the day made the same association; and this foundation definitely serves the picture well. Indeed, who among us couldn’t imagine an industry giant like King hiding the secret to our shared reality somewhere within his voluminous pages for only the unfortunate souls to discover? It’s a magical association that pays off terrifically here.
Initially, Trent isn’t interested in the task, not seeing such a challenge as befitting his services. Indeed, the investigator suspects that Cane’s disappearance might even be suspiciously linked to some fawning publicity campaign – one concocted by Harglow and his aide, Linda Styles (Julie Carmen), to ramp up a media frenzy in anticipation of the writer’s next release. However, once Trent reads a few novels in an attempt to better understand the vanished author’s mind, he finds himself curiously drawn into the slowly-building mystery. When he stumbles across the hidden truth that Cane’s oft-mentioned Hobb’s End – a quaint fictional New England town that houses a lot of the writer’s best Horrors – might actually be a real place, then he can’t help but take the job, taking Stiles with him on a road trip that just might turn out to be into oblivion.
A great deal of critical thought has been expended online and elsewhere about the fact that Cane – as an identity – more than casually resembles the living and breathing Stephen King, and there’s no reason to argue or even consider that De Luca or Carpenter wished otherwise for their audience. King’s impressive career is exactly the kind of centerpiece around which a tale like Madness revolves as the script rather cleverly draws allusions to how our cultural preoccupation with being scared silly might be little more than a distraction from some deeper societal concerns. Even though actor Prochnow looks nothing like the storyteller, I’ve no doubt that audiences of the day made the same association; and this foundation definitely serves the picture well. Indeed, who among us couldn’t imagine an industry giant like King hiding the secret to our shared reality somewhere within his voluminous pages for only the unfortunate souls to discover? It’s a magical association that pays off terrifically here.
Still, where I struggle with accepting Madness’ inspired premise – that reality and fiction may not be as detached from one another as we would like – lies precisely with the presentation here. Essentially, this all boils down to a magic trick on the part of the storyteller; and – as twist endings can be as divisive as they are epiphanous – the film collapses under its own weight because all it has in that big reveal is just that … concealed trickery. No one likes a bad magician much less one who cheats, but the film becomes a non-entity entirely once you know none of it was factual. Sure, it might look good – arguably, it features some of Carpenter’s best cinematography – and it might sound good; but when the end leads you to believe that – ahem – none of it could possibly have happened then what did I just sit through?
You see, Madness is the kind of picture one can’t discuss without spoiling the finish, that being Trent comes to the fateful realization that not only is none of what he went through real, but neither is he. How he reaches such a conclusion is interesting, and it definitely makes for great chitchat amongst watchers afterward. But the end – regardless of the strength of the pieces – remains the same. As it would seem, John Trent is nothing more than a character in a novel – one watched unfold onscreen instead of read off the page – and it’s this discovery that rips his world and sanity apart. Even audiences watching closely couldn’t have possibly seen this tragic demise because it defies the logic of our seeing it with our own eyes. Where other storytellers have done this sort of thing wherein their respective narrators are either dead, experiencing hallucinations, or losing their minds, De Luca and Carpenter fashioned theirs around the centerpiece that essentially is ‘John Trent never existed. This is his story.’
I know, I know. Trust me, I know.
I really can be a curmudgeon, but that’s why I’ll always point out that reserving such big twist endings is never without risk. If viewers don’t accept the twist, then everything before it either doesn’t work or fails to resonate; and that’s probably why Madness is considered a box office failure. Of course, I realize that the nifty little flick has over time been forgiven by so many who’ve discovered it and made it enough of a talking point to turn it into a Cult property; and yet that doesn’t remove the fact that deductively it’s a visual exercise in nothingness. As I said, it might look pretty, and it might sound interesting … but when all there is waiting for you at the finale is an empty hole where a story should’ve been some of us will always feel cheated.
As for the players?
You see, Madness is the kind of picture one can’t discuss without spoiling the finish, that being Trent comes to the fateful realization that not only is none of what he went through real, but neither is he. How he reaches such a conclusion is interesting, and it definitely makes for great chitchat amongst watchers afterward. But the end – regardless of the strength of the pieces – remains the same. As it would seem, John Trent is nothing more than a character in a novel – one watched unfold onscreen instead of read off the page – and it’s this discovery that rips his world and sanity apart. Even audiences watching closely couldn’t have possibly seen this tragic demise because it defies the logic of our seeing it with our own eyes. Where other storytellers have done this sort of thing wherein their respective narrators are either dead, experiencing hallucinations, or losing their minds, De Luca and Carpenter fashioned theirs around the centerpiece that essentially is ‘John Trent never existed. This is his story.’
I know, I know. Trust me, I know.
I really can be a curmudgeon, but that’s why I’ll always point out that reserving such big twist endings is never without risk. If viewers don’t accept the twist, then everything before it either doesn’t work or fails to resonate; and that’s probably why Madness is considered a box office failure. Of course, I realize that the nifty little flick has over time been forgiven by so many who’ve discovered it and made it enough of a talking point to turn it into a Cult property; and yet that doesn’t remove the fact that deductively it’s a visual exercise in nothingness. As I said, it might look pretty, and it might sound interesting … but when all there is waiting for you at the finale is an empty hole where a story should’ve been some of us will always feel cheated.
As for the players?
Well, Carmen is a wet blanket, frankly, never mustering any sense of interest or intimacy when the mood requires either. Her character never quite has clear motivations – she’s either seriously attracted to Trent or not – but given the fact that she (like her counterpart) never really existed perhaps I’m reading far too much into this. Heston only has a few scenes; and they work on the level they’re intended. Prochnow has that innate gift of chewing scenery whenever asked to, and he turns in respectable work here no less. While I’ve read a great deal of praise heaped on Neill’s shoulders at selling the whole premise, I honestly didn’t think he went far enough in the last reel. Existential crises being what they are, there was ample room to be filled once he knows he no longer is, and I was honestly looking for something bigger than a big full-throated laughs.
In The Mouth Of Madness (1994) was produced by New Line Cinema and Panavision (Canada). DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that – wow – this film really looks fabulous in all the right places. There are a handful of practical-effects bits – along with one CGI-style attempt – that don’t quite work, but they still feel charming enough to work. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, this is Arrow Films, and they rarely disappoint. Along with the vast assortment of behind-the-scenes stuff, there are three commentary tracks – two of them feature Carpenter – but the one hosted by a couple podcasters was increasingly frustrating as neither demonstrated much knowledge of the production nor even got a few of the story’s key details correct (i.e. they kept confusing ‘insurance adjustor’ with ‘insurance investigator,’ two completely different jobs).
Recommended … but with minor reservations.
One of Carpenter’s best shot films sadly winds up to be one of his most befuddling as style trumps substance in 1994’s In The Mouth Of Madness. Meta wasn’t barely even a thing yet when screenwriter Michael De Luca subversively propped it up on the silver screen, and perhaps the evolving identity philosophy needed a bit more time to germinate before trying to take root here. What remains is curiously watchable regardless, though some may still take issue with the sheer psychological chaos of the closing scenes. A big, big, big swing for the fences … but all we got was a bunt.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of In The Mouth Of Madness (1994) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
In The Mouth Of Madness (1994) was produced by New Line Cinema and Panavision (Canada). DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that – wow – this film really looks fabulous in all the right places. There are a handful of practical-effects bits – along with one CGI-style attempt – that don’t quite work, but they still feel charming enough to work. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, this is Arrow Films, and they rarely disappoint. Along with the vast assortment of behind-the-scenes stuff, there are three commentary tracks – two of them feature Carpenter – but the one hosted by a couple podcasters was increasingly frustrating as neither demonstrated much knowledge of the production nor even got a few of the story’s key details correct (i.e. they kept confusing ‘insurance adjustor’ with ‘insurance investigator,’ two completely different jobs).
Recommended … but with minor reservations.
One of Carpenter’s best shot films sadly winds up to be one of his most befuddling as style trumps substance in 1994’s In The Mouth Of Madness. Meta wasn’t barely even a thing yet when screenwriter Michael De Luca subversively propped it up on the silver screen, and perhaps the evolving identity philosophy needed a bit more time to germinate before trying to take root here. What remains is curiously watchable regardless, though some may still take issue with the sheer psychological chaos of the closing scenes. A big, big, big swing for the fences … but all we got was a bunt.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of In The Mouth Of Madness (1994) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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