REVIEWS

TOTAL FILM CINEMA REVIEW
Reviewed by Daniel Rosenthal

When 22 healthy people die in the tiny American town of Fairwater die from so-called "heart attacks", psychic swindler Frank Bannister (played by curious man/ child they call Michael J Fox), twigs that some kind of evil is at work.  As the bodycount rises and he becomes prime suspect, Frank, enlisting the aid of the friendly undead (and widowed doctor Lucy Lynskey, the pale and interesting Trini Alvarado) becomes embroiled in a battle to the death and beyond...

Answering "Yes" to the question "Fancy seeing the new Michael J  Fox movie?" usually means two itchy hours watching the ex-sitcom star go though his familiar routine in some lightly scripted, cutesy caper.  But not this time.  From rip-snorting opening to sensational climax, The Frighteners is not just Fox's most entertaining picture since Back to the Future, but one of the slickest comedy-horror movies you could ever hope to see.

        Now 35, but looking all of 21, Fox tackles the lead (fraudulent ghosthunter and private dick) with uncharacteristic restraint: experience (or the director) has Told him that the biggest laughs should go to his spectral sidekicks, a black dude (Chi McBride) and a nerd (Jim Fyfe) and to the nasty grim reaper who's bumping off the burghers of Fairwater.

        The man we have to thank for this incredible movie is Peter Jackson.  With the aid of more than a years worth of digital SFX work, he creates some breath-taking sequences.  The superb chase between fox's beaten-up volvo and the murderous wraith is topped only by the final grisly showdown.

        The supporting cast does itself proud.  Trini Alvarado is endearing as a doctor, as is Peter Dobson as the ghost of her lunk headed hubby: Jeffrey Comb's crazed FBI agent leers like a poor mans Jim Carrey; and Jake Busey shows that he's inherited his dads gift for playing wackos.

        Other treats include R Lee Ermey once again repeating his Full Metal Jacket turn as the drill instructor from hell, and a dash of ectoplasmic nookie between an Egyptian mummy and the heavily decomposed corpse of a gunslinger (we jest not).  The only (piffling) drawback to this inventiveness is that it's so relentless.  At times the technical wizardry wears thin - if the spooks melt though walls once, they do it 50 times.

        Although you could run out of toes and fingers counting the bright ideas and images Frighteners borrows from other movies, and co-writer Frances Walsh whip these familiar ingredients together with such glee that you don't begrudge thier wholesale raid on the horror genre's back-catalogue.

The result is a film that provides so many laughs and bums-off-seats shocks you can safely forget about that fiver you wasted on Doc Hollywood.