Review by Dan Taylor
At
first glance CHERRY FALLS appears to have
plenty to offer the sleazoid film fan. There's
a sleepy town with a Twin Peaksy name likely
to elicit titters from the more emotionally-retarded
members of the viewing audience (ie, its
target market). The first few minutes feature
a couple of panting teens getting graphically
butchered by a mysterious killer. And there's
no shortage of familiar faces to help pass
the time from killing to killing to killing…
There's exploitation vet Michael
Biehn looking like he's trying to figure
out just how the hell his post-TERMINATOR
career ended up here. And isn't that Jay
Mohr – who may want to stick to his
outrageously funny sports reporting –
as a touchy-feely teacher who just might
have a thing for his pouty-lipped students.
Speaking of pouty lips, there's Brittany
Murphy (DRIVE,
FREEWAY,
tv's 'King of the Hill'), the poutiest-lipped
lass of them all, struttin' her stuff and
makin' all the boys crazy. And I do mean
ALL the boys.
So, it would appear that CHERRY
FALLS (tee-hee) would have everything you'd
need for a fun-filled evening. Unfortunately,
in this post-SCREAM
age where horror films are required by law
to feature a detached sense of hip irony,
CHERRY FALLS suffers from an inability to
decide what it wants to be.
On one hand it's your standard
tale of psycho-killer murdering teens because
of something that happened many years ago.
On the other hand it's a quirky look at
high school life as all the victims turn
out to be virgins, so what better way to
take your name off the hit list than popping
your cherry? And, at times, it even seems
to be making statements about the high school
class system (ala HEATHERS), transgender
issues, and more, but I might've been reading
more into it than it deserves.
Frankly, CHERRY FALLS could've
been another horrorfest with comic undertones
like Fred Dekker's NIGHT OF THE CREEPS.
Biehn is tortured as the, well, tortured
cop trying to right the wrong he committed
years ago, and his scenes with daughter
Jody (Murphy) are as creepy as they are,
well, creepy. Murphy exudes a charming sex
appeal from every pore, and I keep waiting
for her to get a well-deserved big, big
break. And while the Cherry Popping Ball
is a terrific idea on paper (thanks to screenwriter
Ken Selden), it falls apart when director
Geofrrey Wright gets down to the execution.
Even the big twist is neither
big nor a twist. Those that don't spot the
killer the moment they first appear should
never be allowed to watch another horror
flick. Then again, if CHERRY FALLS
is representative of a new era in horror
cinema, that might not be such a bad thing.
