The Fog (1980)

Everyone is always talking anymore about what a great director John Carpenter was.

Yes...was.

...and no, as of this writing, he isn't dead.

However, the writer/director who has brought such great entertainments to the screen as his debut sci-fi comedy Dark Star, the electrifying drama Assault on Precinct 13, the original Halloween, the classic action film Escape from New York, his frightening retelling of The Thing and the psychologically terrifying Prince of Darkness (which I think is a vastly underrated work of horror) has lately been in a slump, let's just say. None of his newer films have had the same buzz or heat that his early works have.

In the same breath, however, neither is Carpenter to be dismissed as a lightweight nor a hack. It's not his fault that for the largest part of his career he had to work under the mistaken purport that ALL of his work had to be a reflection of his early successes.

In other words, would YOU go to see a romantic comedy directed by John Carpenter?

...Well, judging by the receipts from Memoirs of an Invisible Man, not many of you would, but that just goes to prove my point: once you've established yourself in one genre, it's hard to stake out a claim in new territory.

So what do studios do? They take a respected director who has maybe one or two great ideas that make money, exploit that, squeeze as much as they can out of him then, when they find they've wrung him dry, toss him aside and move on. That's just how Hollywood rolls, baby. Indeed sad, but there you have it.

Anyway, back to the topic of this review. John Carpenter, fresh off the success of Halloween, was one of those Hollywood wunderkinder that producers just love - hot new talent that makes the studio look good, gives them prestige by association and is a moneymaker.

...see, there's that word again: MONEY.

So they knew they had to play it safe and pander to the same crowd that loved Halloween, which makes perfect sense from a profit standpoint.

After all, if you've got a formula that people flock to the theaters to see time and again, why not exploit it?

They felt Carpenter had that unmistakable "it" that they (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, in this case) needed to survive as a whole, and his next product with their name on it had to reflect that. Ergo: make another horror movie.

And so Carpenter, with the aid of his longtime collaborator Debra Hill, conjured up a story about the fictional coastal town of Antonio Bay, where 100 years ago a horrible accident took place that now, on the anniversary of its occurrence, the town as a whole will pay for. Adrienne Barbeau plays the town radio DJ who gets caught up in the sinister events, Hal Holbrook is the preacher who knows more than he is telling, Janet Leigh is an unwary socialite, John Houseman plays an old salt whose opening scene is a masterpiece of mood and effect and Jamie Lee Curtis, one year after shooting to stardom in Carpenter's Halloween, plays yet another prominent role herein.

Everyone plays their parts well, but still.... Something nagged at me all the time I was watching The Fog. There was something unsettling about how the title weather phenomenon (i.e.: the fog itself) rolled into town and enveloped everyone as the ghastly events took place, sure, and everything is done to the hilt, but there was something that the movie as a whole was missing.

And then it hit me: the villain itself. Yes, that fog.

Sure, it was merely played as a herald for what was really coming, but when you name your movie The Fog and play all that dry ice as the ally of Satan himself, then you had better be ready to turn it up to 11, as it were.

Thing is, there were more easily-embodied personifications of evil that Carpenter has utilized before. Most famously, Michael Myers in (say it with me) Halloween. Then of course there were The Duke in Escape from New York, that sleek red 1958 Plymouth Fury in Christine, The villainous Lo Pan in Big Trouble in Little China, the alien shape-shifter in The Thing, Jan Valek from Vampires and Sutter Cane from In The Mouth of Madness (another Carpenter gem). So it's not that he doesn't know how to play up a villain (he does); its just that The Fog is more of a psychological thriller without a true embodiment of fear than a true outright horror with a tangible villain.

If anything, The Fog is an almost tame throwback to the thoughtful terrors churned out from England in the 50's and 60's. Quite a change for people who were expecting more of the same with Michael Myers, knives and "boogeymen" and such. Not that this is a bad thing; there are subtle nuances to be had and more than your share of scares. It's just that as a villain you love to hate and fear almost morosely, there just isn't that much that's frightening about a weather depression.

Am I being too harsh on The Fog? Probably. Are there redeeming qualities in this movie? Of course: Carpenter always was (and still is) an artist and each frame of this film is craftsman-like in its composition and execution. Roger Ebert once quoted Alfred Hitchcock in saying that Carpenter likes to play his audiences like a piano, which he does here quite exquisitely. And there is always one constant you can count on in a John Carpenter movie - The Jump Scene: the one scene that will make you leap right out of your seat and/or your skin. He's good at those, and there are a couple in this movie, as well.

After the fact, The Fog did make money (yay!), got some very good reviews (yay!) and made a favorable impression on the movie-going public as a whole (yay!).

"So what is it that's so bad about The Fog", you may be asking?

Just this: someone else was made to do familiar things in familiar-looking films the same way through 90% of his career until one day he found that not only would no one watch his newest films but he no longer had the same pull in Hollywood he once had, and so found himself losing a career; not because of who he was but because the quality of his work reflected old victories. It may have been entertaining at one point, but now seemed all-too predictable.

That man's name was Burt Reynolds. And his legacy speaks for itself.

And so does John Carpenter's. But when it comes to his future in Hollywood, there has to be a point when an artist comes out of the cocoon he has made for himself with the blanket of popular opinion from when he can emerge, spread his wings and truly take off and create that which will make the industry stand up and take notice. Again.

Like I said at the beginning of this review, John Carpenter isn't dead yet, and he has a long vibrant career ahead of him where he may yet regain his mantle as the Modern Master of Horror he had fumbled and dropped sometime after 1978. Or maybe he will step out onto an altogether different path and emerge as a genius yet again. Who knows?

And what did I end up thinking about The Fog? To be perfectly honest I don't know: I liked it for what it was but was still infuriated because I know what Carpenter is capable of and is still able to do.

This was just playing it safe, I guess. It's okay, considering Carpenter hit a home run...but he still advanced only one base.

That's just how Hollywood rolls, baby.