Director: Wes Craven
Starring: Brandon Quintin Adams, Ving Rhames, Everett McGill, Wendy Robie, Sean Whalen, A.J. Langer
31 Days of Horror continues with this review by Joel Robertson of Forgotten Flix. Send me your horror reviews.
“Alice has been bad. She’s been feeding that thing between the walls again.” –Woman
In The People Under the Stairs (1991) the owners of a slum are evicting Fool (Brandon Quintin Adams) and his family. But Leroy (Ving Rhames), a friend of Fool’s sister, has an idea: he and Fool will break into the house of the landlords, Man (Everett McGill) and Woman (Wendy Robie), and steal money rumored to be hidden inside. However, once they enter this house of horrors, Fool soon learns the meaning of terror and what it takes to become a hero.
This is a dark fairy tale that even Jung would approve of. Craven often brings his background in Philosophy (he used to be a college professor) to his films, filling them with social commentary that’s fun to analyze and debate. I’ve always been a fan of Craven’s work, although I’m the first to admit that it’s often hit or miss. For every Hills Have Eyes (1977) and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) there’s a Hills Have Eyes 2 (1985) and Cursed (2005). However, The People Under the Stairs definitely falls into the former group and this horror classic has it all: class warfare, race relations, gun-toting S&M gimps, a tongueless boy named Roach (Sean Whalen) who lives in the walls, and crazed, cannibalistic humans who live, well, under the stairs (although it’s more like they’re in the basement, which I guess technically qualifies).
Despite the outlandishness of many elements in the film and the potential for them to be played with over-the-top theatrics, the performances in the film are believable and grounded in reality. This is especially true of McGill and Robie (both of whom had worked on the David Lynch-produced television series Twin Peaks). They play Man and Woman right up to the edge of absurdity. McGill is menacing, animalistic, and brutal. Robie makes her character calculating and domineering without slipping into clichés. They are both off-their-rocker, bat-crap crazy, but neither one comes off like a caricature. Ving Rhames in one of his first theatrical film roles, creates a flesh and blood person out of what could easily have been a one-note, throw away character (this came out 3 years before Pulp Fiction—which makes me wonder: what is it with Rhames’s characters and gimps?). A.J. Langer as Alice, the “daughter” of Man and Woman, helps balance out the madness, showing the potential for kindness and humanity even in a world where there’s very little. Much of her kindness is directed toward Roach (Sean Whalen), the aforementioned tongueless boy who lives in the walls. He gleefully taunts Man and Woman, relishing his “freedom” to move through the labyrinthine interior of the house. And last, but certainly not least, is Brandon Adams as Fool. It’s difficult for an adult to carry a movie, let alone a child. But Adams pulls it off. Never once does he hit a false note as the resourceful Fool. His reasons for joining Leroy on the “treasure hunt” are noble (his mother is dying and needs medical care), and when he realizes Alice and the other victims of Man and Woman’s cruelty need him, he refuses to let them down.
One other character I need to mention is the house itself. (I realize comparing the location of a film to a character is a bit of a film review cliché itself, but if the cliché fits…) Craven and his cinematographer, Sandi Sissel, do an excellent job of establishing it as a place that doesn’t need a “No Trespassing” sign to keep unwanted visitors away. From the moment Fool steps up to the front door in his Boy Scout uniform, he (and we) feels the oppressive atmosphere of the house. And once inside, the set, cinematography, and editing all work in concert to make the house seem even more expansive than it is. Sort of like a twisted extension of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory (well, maybe not as twisted as the movie that plays during the Wonka boat ride).
Definitely one of Craven’s best flicks. It’s also one of my personal favorites. Despite the depravity and twistedness of Man and Woman’s world, the film never feels exploitative or cheap. It’s an excellent example of a talented filmmaker setting out to tell an archetypal story that the audience connects with on a deeper level—and succeeding.
