The Incredible “House of Wax”
At a certain point in “House of Wax,” Paris Hilton catches what appears to be four feet of sharpened spear through the front of her skull. She backs off a few feet with the unwelcome protrusion extending before her, then topples to her knees, falling forward, driving the shaft through more brain matter. The skull itself cracks. The audience cheers wildly.But that’s not the scary part.
The scary part was the elderly gentleman sitting in the seat behind the guy in front of me: He cheered, too. I think he sorta kinda liked it. That’s “House of Wax,” one of those guilty pleasures that result from creativity on the part of people who should have gotten adult supervision at a young age. They didn’t, and went on to make profane, even blasphemous, treats like this one.
I should be honest and acknowledge one truth: I like this movie a little bit because they still kill the old way. In recent years, in search of big bucks, a number of horror movies have been produced as hard but nevertheless permissible PG-13s, to bring in a younger cash customer. When you see that, you know there’s a certain line the movie won’t cross; it lessens the upfront apprehension, which after all is the point of the horror movie, no? (It’s certainly not to encourage better citizenship.)