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There were two specific defining events in my life that directly and intensely influenced what can effectively frighten me as an adult.

The first was a reoccurring thing that happened around when I was four or five years old. My father was greatly amused by the fact that there were two songs that never failed to scare the bejesus out of me. The first was Mama by Genesis. Phil Collins’ demented cackling was incredibly disturbing to me. The other was Careful with that Axe Eugene by Pink Floyd. My dad told me a story that went along with the song. It was horrifying. I wrote the story out (filling in the spaces of what I couldn’t remember) a few years ago.

In the middle of the song, the only lyric, which has no context and is simply the line “Careful with that axe Eugene,” is whispered and then followed by a blood curdling screech.

As an adult, I understand that it was just Roger Waters screaming into the microphone like a weirdo. But as a kid, because of that story (and because Roger has a very feminine scream) I believed it was the sound of a woman being murdered with an axe.

That song still makes the skin on my back crawl and my heart thud up into my chest.

The other thing that happened when I was a kid was in elementary school. Maybe the second grade. We watched a movie called Darby O’Gill and the Little People. It’s a silly ass movie from 1959, back when Disney was trying to make live action movies work. The movie itself is forgettable but there’s a scene in there where this banshee shows up and is wailing and screaming and it scared the ever loving shit out of me.

Now, there are some people out there (usually horror movie fans) who love to tell you that they don’t get scared at horror movies. Nothing phases them. It’s such a weird, childish thing to be proud of. I don’t know if it makes them feel more mature or somehow tough? I don’t get it. Needless to say, I am not one of those people. A good horror movie (especially a ghost story) can really frighten me. I’m not ashamed to admit that after watching a particularly scary movie, I immediately turn on all the lights and I get a little freaked out going to the bathroom with that shower curtain conveniently closed (likely hiding the rotting woman from The Shining behind it).

For all of the reasons I just listed, The Woman in Black did a bang up job scaring the shit out of me. It had pretty much everything needed to freak me the fuck out. It had ghosts. It had screaming, floating, evil women ghosts. It had freaky dead children ghosts. It had fucking creepy ass wind up toys and scary, decrepit old mansion. It had freaky screaming evil women ghosts hanging themselves (which, thanks to Salem’s Lot, also scares the crap out of me). It had a lot of scary shit in it.

Hold on. Let me back up and start again.

First of all, it’s a Hammer film. It’s a real Hammer film. Finally, this modern iteration of Hammer Film Productions has produced a film that is worthy of the Hammer name. So far, the modern Hammer films have been a mixed bag of weirdness, none of which really fit thematically with the image and style you would normally associate with Hammer. They did the wonderful remake of Let the Right One In, but it was hardly the gothic horror you would expect from this company.

The Woman in Black is a Hammer film through and through. The only thing missing was Ingrid Pitt and her wonderful vampire boobs (though on a related note, it’s worth mentioning that perhaps you should do a Google image search for the very lovely and talented writer of The Woman in Black, Jane Goldman). It’s saturated with gothic misery and atmosphere, almost to the point being funny, though sweetly and completely sincere. Unlike, say, The Wolfman (which I actually enjoyed quite a lot, contrary to popular opinion), there’s nothing tongue-in-cheek about the gothic atmosphere of this movie. It’s played completely straight, and god bless them for it.

It’s easy to buy Daniel Radcliffe as a sad, over burdened, helplessly confused and outmatched British dude up against unspeakable evil. It’s pretty much the role he’s been playing his entire career. Which isn’t meant as an insult or a complaint. In fact, if anything, it’s probably the perfect way to transition him out of Hogwarts and into the life of a regular working actor in Hollywood. There was just enough Harry Potter in the character to keep the experience from being awkward, and just enough grownup maturity to allow us to see the character stand on its own legs. It was a respectable performance from a promising young actor.

Especially since there’s barely a moment in the film where he isn’t on camera. There are very few characters in the movie, and the ones that do populate this world are constantly interacting with him. So it’s a big role, all things considered.

Radcliffe plays a real estate lawyer who has been tasked with cataloging and examining the paperwork of an eccentric, reclusive woman who died a month earlier. He has to leave his four year old son and travel to this mysterious, remote village (of course) and work in a run down, creepy ass old mansion in the middle of the marshland. Of course the town folk don’t want him there and are hiding some sort of secret, and of course he also starts to see a bunch of crazy, scary shit. I won’t get into anything specific, but it’s fair to say that things escalate and get crazy pretty quickly.

Ciaran Hinds plays Daniel’s only friend in town, and he’s fine as the standard skeptical friend with a few secrets of his own. He manages to dial back his weird mugging which was appreciated.

The movie did a good job keeping the atmosphere going and the tension in a steady upward trajectory. The gothic tone and over all strangeness of the environment made it easy to stay on edge, even during scenes where nothing particularly scary was happening. Like most haunted house stories, there was a mystery to uncover, and also like most haunted house stories, you’re left wondering why the lead character doesn’t just bail immediately after seeing the first ghost.

But that’s okay, because that’s how these movies go. If characters acted like real people and hauled ass as soon as creepy shit started happening, we’d have no movie. Also, it’s tradition as much as anything else. It’s part of the equation, just like the small town full of suspicious weirdos.

In the end, I really enjoyed The Woman in Black. It was a very simple movie, with an easily digestible story and characters drawn in broad, cartoony strokes… but that’s okay, because it’s a Hammer movie. It’s all about the atmosphere and melodrama and, of course, the horror. Most of all, it’s about the fun. These are fun, silly movies and The Woman in Black is a lovingly crafted, perfectly appropriate addition to that fine catalogue.

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PS

It was directed by James Watkins, who directed the movie Eden Lake, which I also enjoyed and reviewed here.