Tag: Thanksgiving

In 2007, Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez were at the top of their game. The two directors had come up from the indie underworld at the same time in the early ’90s. Tarantino’s Kill Bill films were critical and commercial successes, and Rodriguez was doing both mainstream blockbusters with Spy Kids and cutting-edge animation with Sin City. They teamed up to make a tribute to the shameless, cheap exploitation films of the drive-in era. Grindhouse was a double feature condensed into a single movie by leaving the middle reel out of each film. Rodriguez’s contribution was Planet Terror, a hyper-violent zombie sci-fi flick starring Rose McGowan as a go-go dancer with a machine gun leg; Tarantino’s was Death Proof, a car chase movie starring Kurt Russell as a murderous stuntman driving a sinister black hot rod.

Tarantino and Rodriguez invited their film bro buddies to make trailers for movies that could never get made which ran before and between the two features. Rob Zombie did one for “Werewolf Women of the S.S.”; Edgar Wright did a hilarious voice-over riff called “Don’t.” But strangely, three of the trailers for films that “could never get made” actually ended up getting made. Rodriguez made “Machete” around legendary Mexican-American stuntman Danny Trejo, and it spawned two successful feature films. (I’m still waiting for Rodriguez to complete the trilogy with Machete in Space.) Then there was the self-explanatory Hobo with a Shotgun from Canadian filmmaker Jason Eisener, who got his slot in Grindhouse by winning a South by Southwest Film Festival contest. And now, there’s Thanksgiving by Hostel director Eli Roth.

The original trailer had to be cut down a bit to avoid the entire film being slapped with a NC-17 rating. Roth’s feature just squeaks under the bar for an R rating, but it is every bit as demented and shameless as the trailer. As the name suggests, Roth’s film is smack dab in the middle of the slasher horror tradition of Black Christmas and Halloween. Like John Carpenter, who Roth is clearly channeling here, the jump scares and arterial spray are flying cover for unsparing social satire.

Thanksgiving in Plymouth, Massachusetts, is like Halloween in Salem — the epicenter of holiday vibe. That’s why it feels so off that RightMart owner Thomas Wright (Rick Hoffman) has decided to open his big box store on Thanksgiving, while he enjoys a greeting-card-worthy Thanksgiving dinner with his family. One of the hallmarks of the grindhouse slasher pics is that almost everyone you meet is an insufferable jerk, so it’s more satisfying when they inevitably get killed. Thomas’ daughter Jessica (Nell Verlaque) is the least unsympathetically portrayed character in the film, but still, she’s the one who inadvertently starts a riot on Thanksgiving when she lets her obnoxious friends into the RightMart before it officially opens at 6 p.m.

For Roth, the FightMart riot is his Omaha Beach in Saving Private Ryan. Fully feral American consumers tear each other to pieces over discount waffle irons. The security cameras make the rioting shoppers look like rats in a maze driven crazy by some kind of perverse psychological experiment. It’s the first of a series of blistering images Roth conjures using the familiar tropes of Thanksgiving.

A year later, the Wright family business has settled a bunch of lawsuits, and Jessica and her friends are the subject of harassment on social media. Then, a new, much more threatening harasser appears, using the pilgrim name John Carver. I had never really thought of how terrifying the traditional Plymouth Rock pilgrim outfits were until Roth showed me one dismembering people with an axe. Sheriff Eric Newlon (Patrick Dempsey) asks Jessica to help find the killer before he finds them. But there is no shortage of suspects who carry grudges from the FightMart riot, so Jessica’s amateur detectives have their work cut out for them.

The ironic part of Thanksgiving is that it started as a joke about a low-budget exploitation film that was too weird to be made, and now, 16 years later, it’s become a really good low-budget exploitation film. Roth hits that elusive sweet spot between stupid and smart. It’s gross, it’s in shockingly bad taste, it indicts its audience simply by existing, and yet, you can’t look away. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

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