Film Review: Village of the Damned (1995)
When John Carpenter is on, he’s really on. Unfortunately, when he’s off, we get movies like Village of the Damned. Even if you could muster forgiveness for most of its many faults, you’d still be left with a banal sci-fi thriller that gets lamer with each scene. Village of the Damned has a premise for days but winds up a hackneyed retread of the much-loved cult classic on which it’s based. Carpenter, who should have nailed this one without even trying, leaves us bored and confused.
I’m sure it all looked good on paper – a cheap, easy to produce remake of a relatively unknown and decades-old British creeper – but sometimes looks can be deceiving. First, Village of the Damned is sorely miscast from top to bottom. It’s a respectable group of actors including Christopher Reeve, Kirstie Alley, Linda Kozlowski, and Mark Hamill, but none of them fit into their roles. They all look as if they’re wearing the wrong size clothes and wet socks. It’s nearly impossible to see past each actor’s more famous roles because of the lines and direction they’re given. I found the whole experience off-putting.
Next, I can’t help but ask, “What’s the point?” Carpenter is at his best when he’s got something to say and a clever premise to say it with. While not having a cultural or social message isn’t a cinematic death sentence, a film should still have a point. It has to carry some kind of weight – or at least appear to. Village of the Damned remains completely weightless beyond its mildly appealing concept. It meanders mindlessly through several years in the life of a small town taken hostage by a group of evil white-haired super-children with telekinetic powers and nasty attitudes, yet nothing happens outside of a few semi-grisly death scenes. The possibilities for cultural commentary are endless. What we get is a brick wall.
In the end, we’re not left with much more than tedium. The big reveal and climax pack no punch and even if it did, we’re not given enough character development to warrant any kind of catharsis. The best thing Village of the Damned’s complete lack of emotion or artistry can drum up from an audience is a strange desire to watch The Thing.
