Cards on the table: I think An American Werewolf in London is one of the funniest scary movies ever; one of the greatest black comedies ever; indeed, one of the greatest movies ever. Which is the main reason I found this limp, lame attempt at black comedy horror such a clunking disappointment.
Burke and Hare just isn't funny. Neither is it properly 'black' or scary. What it is is boring and offensive in roughly equal measure – the former of which is quite an achievement, considering the sensational subject matter. The real Burke and Hare were by all accounts two of the most unpleasant characters you'd ever hope not to meet. They murdered 17 people, many of whom were old or infirm, for money. And I for one fail to see the humour in that.
Don't get me wrong. I love a good horror comedy. I can handle as many buckets of Kensington gore as the make-up man can mix up. My personal list of favourite horror comedies would include Brain Dead; Basket Case; Reanimator, The Evil Dead; Shaun of the Dead; Theatre of Blood and Dr Terror's House of Horrors. But all those movies had wit, style and characterisation – elements sadly lacking in Burke and Hare.
Now there have been lots of films about real-life serial killers, some good, some bad, some terrible. But I'm honestly struggling to think of a single one where the filmmakers actually held up the murders and their victims as objects of ridicule, played their deaths for cheap laughs (or no laughs, in this case). Just because Burke and Hare's crimes were committed a long time ago doesn't make them legitimate subjects for comedy, in my opinion.
True, the movie boasts a fabulous cast. But as plenty of other reviewers have pointed out, they're all decidedly unScottish, and most of them are given nothing to say or do that makes you want to watch them. Or worse, make you care a jot about what happens to them. What Landis has forgotten, and his writers sadly never seem to have known in the first place, is that comedy, even – especially, in fact – black comedy, requires empathy from the viewer to be successful. The reason that we come away from Withnail and I feeling both elated and dejected is because we've really gotten to know those two out-of-work actors, and when they part by the bedraggled wolves in rainy Regents Park at the end, well, it's heartbreaking.
I can't tell you how I felt at the end of Burke and Hare, because my wife and I switched over less than half way through and watched Million Pound Drop Live instead. And if that isn't the crowning indictment of any movie, I don't know what is.
Burke and Hare just isn't funny. Neither is it properly 'black' or scary. What it is is boring and offensive in roughly equal measure – the former of which is quite an achievement, considering the sensational subject matter. The real Burke and Hare were by all accounts two of the most unpleasant characters you'd ever hope not to meet. They murdered 17 people, many of whom were old or infirm, for money. And I for one fail to see the humour in that.
Don't get me wrong. I love a good horror comedy. I can handle as many buckets of Kensington gore as the make-up man can mix up. My personal list of favourite horror comedies would include Brain Dead; Basket Case; Reanimator, The Evil Dead; Shaun of the Dead; Theatre of Blood and Dr Terror's House of Horrors. But all those movies had wit, style and characterisation – elements sadly lacking in Burke and Hare.
Now there have been lots of films about real-life serial killers, some good, some bad, some terrible. But I'm honestly struggling to think of a single one where the filmmakers actually held up the murders and their victims as objects of ridicule, played their deaths for cheap laughs (or no laughs, in this case). Just because Burke and Hare's crimes were committed a long time ago doesn't make them legitimate subjects for comedy, in my opinion.
True, the movie boasts a fabulous cast. But as plenty of other reviewers have pointed out, they're all decidedly unScottish, and most of them are given nothing to say or do that makes you want to watch them. Or worse, make you care a jot about what happens to them. What Landis has forgotten, and his writers sadly never seem to have known in the first place, is that comedy, even – especially, in fact – black comedy, requires empathy from the viewer to be successful. The reason that we come away from Withnail and I feeling both elated and dejected is because we've really gotten to know those two out-of-work actors, and when they part by the bedraggled wolves in rainy Regents Park at the end, well, it's heartbreaking.
I can't tell you how I felt at the end of Burke and Hare, because my wife and I switched over less than half way through and watched Million Pound Drop Live instead. And if that isn't the crowning indictment of any movie, I don't know what is.