Another Classic From Uwe Boll
Alone In the Dark
Starring Christian Slater Tara Reid and Stephen Dorff
Directed by Uwe Boll
Written by Elan Mastai, Michael Roesch and Peter Scheerer
Brightlight Pictures Inc
Universal derision has greeted the arrival of Alone In the Dark to theatres (and if you require proof of that, just log on to Rotten Tomatoes someday and observe how happily the world unites in hatred). And though we at Rue Morgue pride ourselves in always having our own view, this time we’re siding with the herd: yet again, director Uwe Boll has managed to display the absolute depth of ineptitude with his latest video game-cum-cinematic cold sore (see Classic Cut for the history on the game this film is supposedly “based” on).
After the most ridiculously long and nonsensical text/voice-over introduction in film history, a painfully cast Christian Slater is introduced as Edward Carnby, an Indiana Jones/Harry D’Amour-type who’s tracking down some genetically mutated toddlers who long ago disappeared from an orphanage... and are now going berserk and transforming into monsters from an ancient civilization!
The what-the-**** storyline was further blighted by the appearance of Tara Reid (as, get this, an actual archeologist) and pedestrian thespian Stephen Dorff (as the token bitter rival), who barely had time to humiliate themselves onscreen before I was begging the forgiveness of the poor bastard I dragged with me to the theatre. Truth be told, we didn’t make it through the embarrassing mess that was unfolding – scene by brain-numbing scene – before our tortured eyes.
I’ll never know what exactly compelled me to try to sit through Alone In the Dark, especially since House of the Dead (RM#36) topped my list of all time pitifully unwatchable, artless, incompetent, throw-away movies. Maybe it’s the Ed Wood fan in me, or maybe it’s the masochist in me, but they were both heavily misguided that day because guzzling drain cleaner, cheesegrating my genitals and watching Dark Castle movies on repeat would have been infinitely more satisfying than this stupefying, beyond pedestrian cinematic migraine.
How Uwe Boll manages to scrape together enough investment money to give wing to this type of overblown, amateurish gibberish is truly a mystery of the cosmos, comparable to black holes and time travel. I can live with bad dialogue, incompetent direction and absurd special effects for the sake of a laugh, but this flick takes the fun out of mindless entertainment and that’s saying a lot. Folks, this is, without a doubt, the very bottom of the barrel.
Jovanka Vuckovic
Rue Morgue Magazine