Saw

Saw

Finally, a hack job that works. Saw’s a worthy addition to the 21st century cannon of nasty horror movies that hearken back to the g(l)ory days of the cruel, grindhouse ‘70s.

A simplistic plot leans heavily on clever machinations - one of the few signs that this is a contemporary film - creating an air of queasy dread while placating the audience with intellectual excercises in a stew of blood and bile.

Fun is hung on a framework as basic as in Friday The 13th (nut-job kills anyone who doesn’t live up to his expectations) and as glibly moralistic as in Se7en (nut-job kills anyone who doesn’t live up to his expectations.) In this case our killer is dubbed Jigsaw after the puzzle-piece-shaped skin souvenirs taken from his victims. Coincidentally, Jigsaw’s victims find themselves in elaborate puzzle-traps from which they can escape only by using their noodles.

It’s all because Jigsaw hates those who don’t appreciate life enough. Nothing better to make you appreciate what you have than the fact that you’re about to die a horrible death.

Saw mixes traditional cop-against-the-clock hi-jinx with lavatory sink drama; two victims trapped in a vile restroom grasp for the emotional underpinnings of their dillema while an obsessive cop (Danny Glover) scrambles to save them.

Degrading squalor, sadistic cruelty and plenty of blood-draining violence will delight seasoned horror fans while testing the limits of newbies. A test for all is the confounding presence of Cary Elwes (adult doppelganger for Macauly Culkin, only with less talent) who tears into his performance like a dyspeptic robot gnawing on 9-year-old beef jerky.

But even the trial of his presence is allieviated when his character is asked to cut off his own foot.

Saw turns out an unpleasant surprise, spawning two sequels thus far. Ultra-cruel old-school sensibilities mesh with a nicely modern slant. Is it odd that director James Wan was only three-years-old when the decade he emulates folded? Who’s complaining? Saw slices off a lovely treat of sickness for contempory cruelty fanatics.