John Carpenter's output from the late '70s throughout the '80s was so brilliant and iconic that when he crashed, he crashed hard. To say the '90s were not kind to the legendary director would be a massive understatement. "Memoirs of an Invisible Man," "Village of the Damned," anyone? The exception to this rule would be "In the Mouth of Madness," one of the more satisfying H.P. Lovecraft adaptations not actually based on anything Lovecraft wrote. The script by Michael De Luca (a then-exec at New Line Cinema) pays dutiful homage to the writer's aesthetic, with perhaps more attention paid to the sprawling monstrosities that creep throughout the film than to narrative consistency.
No matter though, as Carpenter is on his A-Game. The director brings with him the same visual knack that helped the film's spiritual brethren, "Prince of Darkness," rise above its equally nonsensical story. Also, there's that rocking (and admittedly dated) guitar- driven score provided by Carpenter himself to help nudge things along. Those opening credits, underscored by that oh-so-'80s guitar, has the feel of an icon from the previous decade stubbornly refusing to bow to trends as he enters the next phase of his career (think of '80s heavy metal acts digging their heels in in the wake of Nirvana). Like the film itself, the music feels out of step with everything else going on in horror cinema at the time, which only adds to its appeal.
Private investigator John Trent (Sam Neill) is tasked with tracking down prolific horror novelist Sutter Cane (a Stephen King-type), who has suddenly vanished under mysterious circumstances. Was he kidnapped by an axe-wielding fanatic? Has he finally cracked and retreated to his sleepy New England homestead? Or is this is all one great, big publicity stunt? Trent re-tells this story after the fact to a doctor (David Warner, ironically coming face-to-face with his "Omen" foe once again) in the mental hospital he now calls home. His tale involves a beautiful companion (Julie Carmen) and some truly grotesque creatures, in what ultimately culminates in one great, big mind-trick.
Carpenter brings with him a great deal of mad energy. It could be said that "In the Mouth of Madness" is the director's last, glorious gasp before settling into a mid-career slump that he has yet to pull out of. The story isn't always cohesive, but the film pushes along with considerable enthusiasm, often failing to slow down and catch the viewer up. Does this really matter when the film is so visually stimulating and its monsters equally intriguing? Not the slightest bit. A great film to watch in the wee hours of the night before the inevitable slumber, "In the Mouth of Madness" has a lot to offer within its gaping maw.
No matter though, as Carpenter is on his A-Game. The director brings with him the same visual knack that helped the film's spiritual brethren, "Prince of Darkness," rise above its equally nonsensical story. Also, there's that rocking (and admittedly dated) guitar- driven score provided by Carpenter himself to help nudge things along. Those opening credits, underscored by that oh-so-'80s guitar, has the feel of an icon from the previous decade stubbornly refusing to bow to trends as he enters the next phase of his career (think of '80s heavy metal acts digging their heels in in the wake of Nirvana). Like the film itself, the music feels out of step with everything else going on in horror cinema at the time, which only adds to its appeal.
Private investigator John Trent (Sam Neill) is tasked with tracking down prolific horror novelist Sutter Cane (a Stephen King-type), who has suddenly vanished under mysterious circumstances. Was he kidnapped by an axe-wielding fanatic? Has he finally cracked and retreated to his sleepy New England homestead? Or is this is all one great, big publicity stunt? Trent re-tells this story after the fact to a doctor (David Warner, ironically coming face-to-face with his "Omen" foe once again) in the mental hospital he now calls home. His tale involves a beautiful companion (Julie Carmen) and some truly grotesque creatures, in what ultimately culminates in one great, big mind-trick.
Carpenter brings with him a great deal of mad energy. It could be said that "In the Mouth of Madness" is the director's last, glorious gasp before settling into a mid-career slump that he has yet to pull out of. The story isn't always cohesive, but the film pushes along with considerable enthusiasm, often failing to slow down and catch the viewer up. Does this really matter when the film is so visually stimulating and its monsters equally intriguing? Not the slightest bit. A great film to watch in the wee hours of the night before the inevitable slumber, "In the Mouth of Madness" has a lot to offer within its gaping maw.