Pocahauntus (2006)
Directed by Veronica Craven
Written by Veronica Craven, Barry J. Ratcliffe
Starring Lisa Allen, Chris Angelo, Stephanie Basco, Julia Bindi
Unrated

This is why I’ve been dissatisfied with the gushy and overly ecstatic reviews of cheap, DTV movies on horror sites. It isn’t because they’re stupid or have poor taste or are just cronies to the genre, hoisting the “SUPPORT HORROR!” flag until they’re dead to the last man. It’s because the nuts and bolts of horror, the actual structural exoskeleton, is so easy that ANYBODY thinks they can do it. And that’s the problem. “ANYBODY” does.

I mean, think about it. Making a GOOD horror movie is hard to do, perhaps harder than any other genre of film. But just conceiving a horror movie is easy as pie. The rhythms and patterns can be picked up by a pre-schooler. “We kill that person”¦ and we wait”¦ We kill THIS person”¦ and then we wait”¦ And then THIS OTHER PERSON dies”¦ and then we wait.” The best of the best horror filmmakers try to wring a symphony out of those two notes, but most of them are content to let it congeal into a barely sold mush. No structure is needed, so even seventy-seven minute movies can last forever. The slasher movie is the catch-all for horror fans, suffering from the delusion that they can walk that aisle and make a movie without being burdened by that whole “talent” nonsense.

I say all this, to say that I would have shot Pocahauntus in the face a year ago, but I can feel the lowering standards trying to swallow me alive after suffering through crap like Delivery, The Blood Shed, and Home Made. Pocahauntus is not as terrible as any of those films (Hell, it’s already infinitely better than Hostel Part II), but it’s still really bad, distinctive only in the fact that I wasn’t in pain while I was watching it. In fact, the most generous statement I can level towards the film is that it’s a waste of a damn fine cameraman.

His name is Phil Grasso, and God bless him. I know I’d usually save my views on the tech side for later in the review, but the guy is really good. He moves the camera well and his lighting, placement, and quality are top-notch. His work is proof that while it takes cash to be flashy, talent doesn’t cost a thing. So good was his camerawork that it fooled me for moments at a time in thinking that I was actually watching a quality, low-budget shocker.

And then the characters open their mouths and all is lost. I don’t need to go into the plot, because there isn’t one. And the story is along the lines of Friday the 13th, only replace “Jason Voorhees” with “Long-Dead Indian Princess.” It’s a camp-type situation with the various stock characters getting bumped off one by one, such as The Hippie-Chick, (Eliza Swenson), the Drunk Debu-Tard (Kate Melia), the Horny Gynecologist (Lisa Allen), and the Surfer Dude (Cory Knauf) with the Mouthy Girlfriend (an actress whose name eludes me).

Let’s do away with the conceit that Pocahauntus is supposed to be scary. I won’t entertain it and neither will the film, which posits itself as a really gory sex comedy. Unfortunately for all of us, both the sex and the comedy are in extraordinary short supply. I’m not going to say that the faint and tawdry promise of boobs isn’t a drawing point for slasher films, because it is. But Pocahauntus only boasts one awkwardly filmed female nude scene, prominently featuring the proprietor of the camp, played by Barry Ratcliffe.

Did I mention that Mr. Ratcliffe WROTE this movie? Screenwriting sure does pay some days, doesn’t it?

Pocahauntus is very jokey, but not a single joke elicits so much as a smirk. I think it was going for that kind of Naked Gun thing where you can’t believe they’re that corny, but it fails miserably. It’s embarrassing, actually. To give you a hint as to how bad it really is, the name of the Horny Gynecologist character is “Dr. Beth Anigav.” Now spell “Anigav” backwards, and realize the work that went into writing this movie.

And what of the acting in Pocahauntus? I don’t like picking on the actors in these low-budget flicks. But as bad as the acting is, I don’t really think it’s the fault of any of the actors. The dialogue is beyond terrible, but it’s loosely delivered and connected, kind of like director Veronica Craven was feeding them lines off-camera. Being as the movie is a series of goofy and groan-inducing vignettes anyway, why should the dialogue be any different? I’m sure that with a little guidance and a firmer hand, we’d have gotten more out of this cast of unknowns, but Craven lacks any sort of discipline in handling her actors. She failed them, and the evidence of that failure is on the screen.

And yet, bad as it is, I can’t be mad at it all that much. I can honestly say that I think everyone on set had a lot of fun making this picture. But as our uncle’s slides from his trip to Aruba have proven, few things suck more than watching others have fun. Nevertheless, with the writer’s strike and the ever decreasing level of Hollywood output could very well ensure a niche for Pocahauntus“¦

Like the Sci-Fi Channel.

*1/2 out of 4