Back when I was a young ‘un, my parents wouldn’t let me watch R rated movies, or just horror movies in general (barring the classic Universal monsters). I was mostly fine with that, because I got by on a hearty diet of Godzilla and 50’s embiggened monster movies, as well as the occasional unrated movie which my parents allowed me to rent because they didn’t understand the ratings system and couldn’t recognize even by the mostly rather obvious artwork on the movie cases that unrated usually meant worse (or better, depending on your outlook) than R. I was also mostly fine with that because all it took was a weekend sleepover invitation from a friend with more permissive parents to see all the blood and titties I could handle at such a tender age.
I have Cody Winter to thank for introducing me to many of the greats: Predator, Alien, Split Second, the list goes on. He’s also responsible for my love of Jeremiah Johnson, but that’s neither here nor there. He’s also also responsible for introducing me to the woman who attends concerts with me that most guys I know would shy away from, and whose idea it was that we get married by Dyanne Thorne. That certainly is here and there, but has nothing to do with this movie. Oh yeah, I’m getting to the movie, just settle down before I smack you one. This is one of those great movies he introduced me to. Not so much on the blood and titties, but heavy on the awesome.
Nighttime on an eerie-looking farmstead in the Australian outback (to be fair, there’s no such thing as a not-eerie-looking thing at night in the Australian outback). Jake Cullen is putting his grandson, Scotty, to bed. Outside the house a sandstorm rages. The ground shakes, and a huge, roaring shape tears through the perimeter fence toward the house. Cullen’s bullets either fly wide or bounce harmlessly off the thing as it barrels past him, breaking his leg, to carry a crying Scotty off into the night. Jake crawls uselessly after the monster, screaming for his grandson as his house burns behind him.
New York. Animal rights activist and journalist Beth Winters is preparing to leave for Australia to do a story on kangaroo hunting. She is reluctant to leave, but her husband Carl insists it’s a great opportunity.
Once in Australia, in the small town of Gamullah, Beth makes more than a few enemies by barging into the pub asking nosy questions. She runs across Jake, who has been accused of murdering his grandson. No one believes his story that a monstrous razorback, bigger than any boar on record, was responsible. Later she heads to the Petpak cannery, where brothers Benny and Dicko work. They spot her filming their questionable work practices, and chase her down in their massive ‘roo hunting truck, running her off the road. Dicko moves to rape her, but the giant razorback arrives and attacks their truck. The cowards run off, leaving Beth to be devoured by the monster pig. As it rips the door off her car to get to her, and she climbs out the other side, there is a distinct wet cracking noise that lets you know the thing is chewing her legs off as she tries to claw her way free.
Word reaches Carl in New York, and he travels to Gamullah, where Jake points him toward Petpak. Benny and Dicko take him to their house, and on a ‘roo hunting trip Carl discovers they were responsible for his wife’s death. Wandering off into the outback, he gets chased by the razorback and lost in a heavy-duty hallucination, winding up at the house of Sarah, Jake’s sort-of surrogate daughter.
They make plans to track and kill the monster pig, but Benny and Dicko get to Jake first, smashing his legs with a hammer and leaving him for the beast to eat. Carl plows Jake’s truck through Benny and Dicko’s house, and chases Benny down a well, where he forces a confession out of him and tells him Beth was pregnant before dropping him to his death. He then goes to confront Dicko at Petpak, where Sarah is also headed following a tracking beacon Jake stuck on the razorback before he died. Dicko meets his much-deserved fate at the tusks of the razorback before it turns on Carl and Sarah, and the unstable boiler engine that runs the plant is on the verge of exploding…
Razorback is based on a book by Peter Brennan, and directed by first-time feature director Russell Mulcahey. It pares the book down nicely, removing an unnecessary and relatively boring plot about diamond smugglers (seriously, who cares about jewelry when there’s a giant man-eating boar to fight?), and making the ending a helluva lot more exciting. Seriously, I’m not spoiling much when I tell you that the book ends with Carl treed by the razorback, and he spears it in the head with a stick and kills it. Talk about anticlimactic. Exploding boilers and huge spinning blades are much cooler.
Mulcahey makes Australia look like the scariest place on Earth. I’ve never been there, but if it really looks like it does in the movie, I think I’ll stick with my cornfields. And it’s not just the locations. The way he shoots Benny and Dicko make them seem almost inhuman. Benny has one bad eye, covered over white, which practically glows in the green interior light of their truck. Dicko’s eyes reflect light like a dingo’s, and he’s always caught at an angle that makes him look more animal than man. Still, the real star of the show is the pig.
I recall reading an interview in Fangoria where he said he was really disappointed in the razorback because it was just an animatronic head on a dolly track, but he makes that fuckin’ thing come to life. He has some kind of crazy ground-trembling shaky cam effect he uses whenever the thing moves (not to be confused with that godawful fucking barf-inducing action shaky cam that every director in the world overuses these days *coughcough*Miami Vice*coughcough*), giving the monster tremendous weight. Granted, you wouldn’t think it’d be too hard to make a pissed-off 4,000 pound razorback with yard-long tusks seem threatening. Much like with Bruce the shark, less is more with the razorback. The only time you see it in any detail is close-ups of the disgusting, deformed, slavering head. Otherwise it’s given the illusion of moving so fast you never get a good look at it.
Speaking of Bruce, Razorback is, as you may have guessed, basically Jaws in the outback with a pig. However, it is unique among the army of Jaws impersonators in that it’s every bit as good as its predecessor, possibly because it’s such a close copy, although the talent of all involved and the gorgeously creepy atmosphere of rural Australia don’t hurt. We have Jake as our Quint, Carl as our Brody, Sarah as our Hooper, Benny and Dicko…well, they don’t really have a parallel, but they’re fantastic characters. Hell, there are even a few cell-animated shooting stars in the background at important moments in the movie. They’re a little less subtle than the ones in Jaws (if you’ve never noticed those before, look for ‘em next time you watch the flick), but just as effective in making certain moments feel even more unearthly than the rest of the movie.
Damn the Brits, they get a spiffy DVD version of Razorback, while I’m stuck hoping I don’t wear out my out-of-print VHS copy obtained for cheap at a liquidation house. I’ve never heard much said about this flick, so I’m guessing it’s been rare to unavailable in the States for quite a while, but if you happen upon it, pick it up no questions asked. You’ll go hog wild over it! *ducks barrage of hurled rotten fruit and used condoms*
The Moral of the Story: It is inadvisable to encourage your pregnant wife to fly to Australia and fight tank-sized hogs. Downright silly, I’d say.
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