When my friendly, neighborhood Alamo Drafthouse Cinema offers me nearly free tickets to see a movie, I don’t usually think twice about it.
I probably should sometimes.
Last night I saw Area 51. It was supposed to be one of those found-footage/dudes running about while filming their experiences horror films. Note that I said “supposed to be.”
They succeeded at unstable, nauseating cinematography. (Does that even really count as cinematography?)
What they failed at was the horror.
I didn’t jump. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even feel particularly uncomfortable (aside from the motion sickness).
Now, this was from the same director as Paranormal Activity, which managed to have a suitable number of creepy, uncomfortable, and/or jumpy moments, all without fucking with my equilibrium, so I expected this to, at least, not be terrible.
Was it terrible? Not particularly. But it certainly wasn’t good, either.
Overall rating: Bored with a side of “Where’s my Dramamine?”