Let me start by saying I'm not going to provide an intricate plot synopsis as I've known for many years what the general idea was and I assume most everyone who's found their way here has also. Short version: mutant rejects holed up in a town left over from New Mexico nuke test sites terrorize passersby. Done. Let me also state that while I've given nothing away in that sentence, I surely will in the following ones, so **MAJOR SPOILERS** follow.

I think the director is very sharp in setting a tone from the opening credit: a montage of old nuclear test film clips interspersed with quick flash cuts of pictures of actual deformed fallout victims - all accompanied by a retro-sounding western piece that's almost comical. It has a touch of Dr. Strangelove to it, albeit with a much more haunting and foreboding sensibility. That said, it ironically set an apolitical tone to the movie. Films like this always seem to be interpreted simply as some sort of anti-nuke screed. The sequence here hints that while that lingering idea can't be avoided, it can be undercut by assuring the viewer that what follows will not be proselytizing or heavy-handed. And that is the case for 99% of the film. In fact, the only scene that dealt with the topic directly was a complete intrusion and the film would be better were it not there. We don't need "Big Brain" to explain what's going on. Frankly, the minute you assign a motive to the gang's behavior, you're on the road to - if not legitimizing - at least creating pre-text for their actions. It shouldn't be there and isn't needed.

This film gives a real sense of balance to the battle between clans - as does the original, as I understand it - and keeps it from being a run-of-the-mill terror flick. It's more Hatfields-McCoys (albeit some really strange McCoys) than Jason or Freddy. But who exactly are the two groups, and must they represent something? Again, I could read plenty of political themes to this: the strangeness of the gang's appearance as metaphor for the non-European likeness of the many objects of America's ruthless military savagery. (Point to consider: would Americans of the last century have been able to rationalize as easily the dropping of the bomb on our Germanic cousins as they did the monstrous 'Japs'? Just a thought.) Does the gang's vicious and surprise first attack - its Pearl Harbor - 'wake the sleeping tiger' and justify the family's almost maniacal bloodlust for revenge? I don't have answers, but I'm quite thankful that the film doesn't either. As I said, though these themes are somewhat inescapable, they don't seem to have really have any bearing on the events that follow per se. At least not in any partisan sense.

About the opening attack: I have to say that this is the most brutal thing I think I've ever seen in a movie of this kind. Not because the gore was more explicit, but because the nature of the violence was so overbearing and overwhelming. I've read in some places that quite a few people were disturbed by that scene enough to walk out. I can't say I blame them. Granted, I still felt somehow removed from the action. I found myself wondering if I really am so desensitized that a scene like this generates no palpable reaction from me. It certainly has an intellectual one - in the sense that I am aware of very few, if any, films that have taken on this level of explosive and graphic violence all at once (off the top of my head, the only one I can think of is Irreversible). It's almost too much to take and I can understand why some people have walked out.

But here's what that scene accomplishes: it upsets the entire formula for the average terror flick. Usually, the action comes on slowly, monsters aren't really revealed explicitly, and as time goes on, characters get picked off one-by-one in a linear, usually telegraphed, manner. In this movie *spoiler* so many people get whacked at once that there becomes plenty of time to sow doubt about who, after this attack, will make it to the end.

The filmmakers in this scene are working on several different levels of violence all at once: sexual brutality (the youngest daughter), sadism/torture (the father), psychological terror (the older daughter and her infant) and sudden explosive violence (the mother). By combining all these forms of attack, the film makes it nearly impossible for you not to be disturbed in some way. And frankly, most people will (or should) be disturbed on ALL those levels.

One note about character: the son, Bobby, evinces more credibility than movies like this usually allot. Victims usually fall into either the "screaming, helpless, witless" category, or the "kick everyone's ass mercilessly" category (see "Ash" aka Bruce Campbell). The kid was shown to have inherited a (mostly) responsible respect for firearms and a fairly strong sense of danger but not paranoia. Well done.

The failure of the movie - alluded to in my opening remark - is that all of the wonderful advancements made over the years in special effects and makeup are put to substandard use here. Now, I certainly applaud the film for not relying on CGI for its monsters. Crossing the uncanny valley is hard enough for any genre that employs digital effects, but moreso in a movie whose theme should most effectively creep you out with gruesome realism. In a movie like this, what probably frightens more than extremely bizarre-looking monsters are the slightly bizarre-looking monsters. There should be something there that's just not right. Something you can't put your finger on. And Michael Berryman is the living, walking example of that. The monsters in this movie ought to be offputting, but it shouldn't be telegraphed. Give them slightly-askew faces and we'll fill in the rest. Making them as obviously grotesque as in this movie immediately creates a sense of intent, a sense that they have been fabricated specifically to creep you out. It breaks a wall and carries the movie into schock territory. The more I saw these mutants, the less afraid I was of them. Except for Big Brain: what's needed is more of that and less of the Troma knock-offs.

Anyway, I've spilled far more cyber-ink than I'd intended on this movie and that almost always means the gears are in motion, ideas have been generated - in short, a good thing. But I can't tell you if the payoff is worth sitting through that scene. I think it's up to the viewer at the time. I'm just saying I won't blame you if you head for the exits once it starts. And the "slightly odd and real rather than intensely grotesque" comment reminds me that I need to procure a copy of Tod Browning's Freaks for viewing with some friends soon. A film with actual circus freaks: now THAT'S scary!