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Bobby Campo as Nick O’Bannon in The Final Destination |
Gore blimey! Bloody horror film’s a lot
of fun!
THE FINAL DESTINATION
Directed by David R Ellis
Certificate 15
IF the First World War cartoonist W Heath Robinson were alive today, it would be no surprise to discover him working as the special effects man on this ludicrous, disgusting, tasteless yet thoroughly enjoyable horror film.
Robinson specialised in domino-effect inventions and throughout The Final Destination, which tells the story of a gang of chiselled American youths who cheat death when they are not supposed to, we watch a ridiculous series of imaginative occurrences involving racing cars, power tools, gas canisters, swimming pool drainage systems and lawn mowers causing seriously unpleasant injuries – it’s like a Health and Safety Executive infomercial on acid.
Chains of events unfold like a Robinson picture and provide an element of suspense. If it wasn’t so grotesque it would be marvellous fun – hell, it’s marvellous fun because it’s so grotesque.
We meet Nick O’Bannon (Bobby Campo) as he spends a pleasant day at the car races with chums Lori (Shantel Van Santen) Janet (Haley Webb) and Hunt (Nick Zano). But poor Nick is feeling a tad weird – and no wonder. He foresees a brutal accident taking place where a car crash sends debris spinning into the grandstand and slices people into little pieces.
Moments before said accident happens, he persuades his gang to leave, and they witness the events from the comparative safety of the car park. His actions have also saved the lives of a security guard and a vile racist redneck. But for how long? As the preposterous fourth and final instalment in this popular horror series unfolds, it is clear that cheating death, an unidentifiable higher power wreaking havoc on those it’s chosen to take that day, is not easy. More premonitions follow and the foursome, with other survivors, have to break a seemingly synchronised chain of deaths in order to save themselves.
Shown in 3-D, this is a polished film with the usual “quick, duck” tricks – all manner of sharp objects come spinning towards you, as do bucket loads of human offal.
It is hard to know what to make of it: at first you think surely director David R Ellis can’t be serious – and then you realise, of course, he isn’t. This is disgusting horror comedy set in a stereotypical American suburb. Ellis does well by using everyday locations to set his carnage: the racetrack, the beauty salon, the mall, the multiplex cinema. Never taking itself seriously, it is a super ride that thrills and grosses you out in equal measure. |
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