Viking Night: Fright Night
By Bruce Hall
February 24, 2015
BoxOfficeProphets.com

Oh, fine. I'll be a vampire for you, Chris Sarandon.

Oh no! I'm a teenager and there's a vampire living next door!

Man, those guys over at Disney think of everything, don't they? Except this isn't a G-Rated Disney film. No singing teapots or talking squirrels here. This is a mildly amusing, surprisingly gory R-Rated Columbia flick about - you guessed it - a kid with a very scary new neighbor. Charley Brewster (William Ragsdale) is a relatively clean-cut suburban teen who's looking to jump over to the wild side by getting busy with his long time girlfriend, Amy (Amanda Bearse). The two get together regularly at Charley's to um..."do homework" and watch their favorite TV show, Fright Night. The host of thus UHF schlockfest is a washed up horror movie star called Peter Vincent (Roddy McDowall), whose trademark shtick is "the world's greatest vampire hunter."

Note to my 1980s self - this is what happens when your parents are too cheap to get cable. Do something about it.

Anyway, as the film opens, Charley's suffering from a case of hot rocks as Amy has once again spurned his advances, no doubt reluctant to be deflowered by a guy who dresses like Dick Clark. With nothing else to do, Charley focuses his attention on some weird goings on with his new next door neighbor. He spots two men carrying a coffin into the cellar - not something you see every day. Soon after - because nobody ever closes their windows in the movies - he spots his new neighbor entertaining a beautiful young woman, and also biting her in the neck and draining her like a juice box. Obviously the guy is a blood-sucking freak, and one who doesn't seem particularly keen on keeping it a secret. Charley is spotted, but for now the dastardly demon is content to taunt the boy from afar.

Soon, more women disappear, although not entirely, because they do find the heads. So at this point, Charley has two problems. Or four, really, if you count both of Amy's cold shoulders.

What would you do if you lived next door to a serial killer, and he knew that you knew? And you knew that he knew you knew? If your answer involves soiling yourself, an anonymous call to the police and quietly leaving town under an assumed name, then congratulations. You are normal. If, on the other hand, you said "drag my friends into it, openly accuse him and make myself a delicious, fleshy target," then you are an "idiot," which is derived from an ancient Greek word meaning "Charley Brewster." To everyone else, Jerry Danbridge (Chris Sarandon) is a witty, urbane man about town who never seems to be available during the day. To Charley, he's the superhuman hellspawn who has promised to make the talkative teen his next victim.

Naturally, Charley's only chance is to join forces with his best friend, class pariah "Evil" Ed (Stephen Geoffreys), and now ex-girlfriend Amy, and take on evil mano a mano. Wait, that's not crazy enough. They also approach Peter Vincent, who only fights fake vampires on late night TV. They alone can stop Jerry's evil, snarky, metrosexual killing spree and save the town from ruin.

Didn't I say this would sound ridiculous? All they need is a van, a talking dog, right? But here's the thing about Fright Night. What seems at best a Saturday morning cartoon premise is in truth a cleverly written hybrid of a bloody thriller - and a benign satire of a bloody thriller. It's a preposterous B movie send up lovingly crafted, cast and financed into something far superior.

That's not to say it's perfect. Because the "kids" in this story are so obviously well into their 20s, yet are thrust into some uncomfortably adult situations, there's an added "ick" factor to some scenes that either takes you out of the movie or makes you want to take a shower. I could also point out that Jerry’s behavior makes no sense - he openly advertises what he’s doing, slaughtering hot, naked women in front of open windows directly across the lawn from a horny teenage boy. What did he expect? This whole mess could have been resolved early in the second act by simply installing a set of parallel blinds. But then, this story takes place in an alternate John Hughes universe where the roof could blow off your house while a biker gang drags coeds up and down the street and somehow, absolutely nobody in the entire neighborhood sees a thing.

What I’m saying is, this is the kind of breezy flick that requires you to take out your brain, put it back in the box with the instructions and warranty card, and just enjoy the things happening on the screen. Every scene is just a contrivance meant to set up the next, but that’s okay. In the end, this is the age-old yarn about two guys marking their territory. Just...one of them happens to be a Satanic blood-sponge. And really, all Fright Night is trying to do is have a little fun, and that it does, very well. Anyone who’s read more than one of my columns knows my criteria - does a movie build a world, establish how things work, and adequately fulfill its intentions? That alone gets you two and a half stars from me.

The best thing about Fright Night is how invested everyone clearly is. Sure, there’s dark subject matter. Yes, there are occasionally disturbing themes - one death near the end is unexpectedly poignant; you’ll know the one. And of course, there’s plenty of gore. But there’s an infectious delight to this movie - it’s just playing around, and it wants you to have fun too. The actors - particularly Sarandon - are clearly invested, writer/director Tom Holland obviously had a blast creating all this, and even the makeup guys put every dollar of their budget to good use. If you like being scared and having fun, Fright Night will be right up your alley. If not, then why are you watching movies in the first place?

And for God’s sake, if you’re going to murder college girls in your bedroom, get some freaking drapes, okay?