Jeremiah White:  Rabies, billed as Israel's first horror film, starts with a traditional slasher movie set up; a bunch of people are in a forest where a crazy killer lurks. Beyond that, Rabies looks very little like a slasher movie. The various characters spend more time clashing with each other than running from the killer. These situations often devolve into verbal abuse and violence. To say more would be ruinous to the film's appeal. It's fun waiting to see who's going to bite it next and how.

Unfortunately, that's about all that's fun here. The most interesting thing most of these characters are capable of is death. The characters are shallow and the lengthy scenes of unimaginative dialogue do little to give them depth. The struggles between characters lack drama and suspense. There are many attempts at humor, often based on the fact that the characters are just as petty in life and death situations as they were in frivolous bickering before bodies started to hit the floor. It has its moments, but much of the humor falls flat.

Rabies maintains a nice pace, constantly jumping from one group of characters to another, with some crafty thematic cuts between groups. The short scenes also help to distract us from the fact that the groups’ paths don’t intersect that often.

Rabies is a fresh twist on the slasher genre to be sure, but without the campy fun of an unstoppable killing machine hacking people up, the burden on dialogue, plotting, humor and characterization is that much greater. Rabies doesn't deliver enough in these areas to be any more than an occasionally amusing diversion.

VERDICT: Skip it.

He's got the rabies.

Jeff Hart: If we hadn’t been sitting a respectful two rows apart in the screening room, I’d swear that Jeremiah and I had watched two totally different movies. Rabies is a wonderfully refreshing take on the slasher genre, a film that I’d passionately recommend to anyone with even a passing interest in horror movies.

The premise should be instantly recognizable to horror fans: a group of attractive people in various shapes and sizes are stuck in an ominous woods filled with bear traps, landmines, and a psycho killer. It may take the film awhile to get its hands dirty but, once it does, there are nail-biting setpieces and gruesome murders aplenty. More importantly, it’s the twisty approach that directors Aharon Keshales and Navot Papushado take to racking up their body count that makes Rabies such a joy to experience.

For starters, there are the little genre tweaks. This might be a killer-in-the-woods movie, but it takes place not in the creepy whispering darkness of Camp Crystal Lake, but in broad daylight, in a forest that seems almost idyllic until the bodies start piling up. Our slasher might be as remorseless and inscrutable as Jason Voorhees, but we quickly come to realize that he’s actually as inept as the rest of the cast (and, apparently, not even a standout at killing). Instead of characters acting absurdly in the face of danger (the classic running up the stairs when one should be running for the front door horror cliché), escape actually seems possible for these would be victims.

It isn’t horror movie incompetence that kills the cast of Rabies, but rather their messy, all-too-human relationships. I cringe when Jeremiah knocks the quality of the characters, because I found them to be surprisingly well-drawn. In your typical horror flick, there’s normally only an effort made to develop whoever is going to survive until the end – the Jamie Lee Curtis, “the virgin,” as Scream’s Randy would call her. The rest of the cast is usually comprised of familiar archetypes (the comic relief, the handsome do-gooder, the slut), strictly meat for the killer’s machete. Rabies too is populated by these archetypes, but they are all given time to develop, their back-stories and relationships fleshed out through snappily edited dialogue-heavy interplay. Here is where Rabies’ cagey humor and charming cast really shine. By the time the first murder occurs, the filmmakers have successfully obscured just who we should expect to be the sole survivor – all the characters have a reason to live and they also all deserve to die. Because there are no obvious victims, the deaths in Rabies manage to be both surprising and occasionally emotionally effecting.

By cleverly toying with genre conventions, Keshales and Papushado have created the first legitimately surprising slasher movie that I’ve seen since Scream. I never knew who was going to survive. I was on the edge of my seat waiting to see how each character would meet their demise. How often can you say those things about a modern horror film? Smart, darkly funny, and shocking – Rabies is genre filmmaking at its finest.

VERDICT: See it.

"I'm gonna save the fuckin' day!"

(16) We here at Culture Blues normally type these blurbs on laptops in our penthouse suite on Madison Avenue. And because of that, we really have no concern or regard for real estate news (worrying about the housing market and stressing economic swings is for suckers). But, we'll make an exception for Cameron Poe. It was reported this week that Nicholas Cage will be selling his Los Angeles mansion, likely due to the fact that he owes a measly $6 million in back taxes (chump change). He's also involved in a joybungle of sue-or-be-sued lawsuits with his former "business manager" (one of life's dangerously nebulous phrases, along with "Creative Consultant," "Associate Producer," and "Please stop"). To assuage his mounting financial debt, Cage will likely do something out of character and sign on for a multitude of regrettable film projects. But, hey, whatever gets us closer to a sequel of The Rock is cool with us (Connery ain’t getting any younger!).

(15) In other tax news, 2009 just went from “bad” to “holy shit, I’m screwed” for the homie Nas. Earlier this year, the Bronx-rapper was served divorce papers for allegedly cheating on wife, Kelis. This week, the IRS smacked Nasty with a $2.5 million lien for not paying taxes in 2006 OR 2007. Damn- two years… in a row? Maybe he thought that the US government wasn’t paying attention to a rich black man that wanted to title his latest album “Nigger.” Nas joins Method Man on the list of rappers who do not, in fact, believe that doing taxes is what’s hot in the streets. To quote Jay-Z, “smarten up, Nas!”

It sure beats those awful "I'm a PC" ads.

(14) The latest installment in the Saw franchise elaborately deathtraps its way into theaters this weekend, sure to make lots of money. We’re big fans of serialized horror stories (see Jeremiah’s  thorough take on the underappreciated Harper’s Island) but we’re not fans of this lousy series (see Jeff’s latest Movie Primer) which survives only because moviegoers are actually dumb enough to keep buying tickets and not because anyone actually cares. Until Jason Voorhees stomps through one of these movies, consider us uninterested.

(13) Microsoft released the much-hyped Windows 7 this week, which doesn’t really matter to us (we’re strictly DOS, baby). But it better not mean they’re going to stop airing this commercial. That would just be cruel.

(12) Michelle Obama will answer 10 “rapid-fire” questions on the Jay Leno show tonight (AT 10!!!). The incredibly contrived segment is sure to touch on humorous and intriguing topics such as parenthood, the food in the White House, Barack’s Nobel prize, and her husband’s support for renewing the Patriot Act’s provision allowing roving wire taps (just kidding on the last one).

The star of That Lame Dog Whisperer Show

(11) Wilmer Valderrama, whose name you undoubtedly have not read since 2002, will be starring in a new TV show based on the life of the Dog Whisperer Cesar Millan. Strangely, the show will be a comedy--quite contradictory to the milky, self-righteous nature of Millan's own show in which he reforms aggressive dogs using a pious combination of discipline, tough love, and a viewership of obese, bubble-bathing, stay-at-home moms. Plus, Fox, who is developing the show, has apparently forgotten what the producers of That '70s Show learned after eight ungodly seasons -- Valderrama is not funny, nor charismatic, nor talented. Plus, Asthon Kutcher sucks, so, there.

(10) Congratulations on reading Culture Blues! You’re ahead of the curve. But the rest of the world/internet is starting to catch on. This week, CB writer Jason Arican was tapped for a guest verse/post on Will Stockert’s mixtape/blog doing sTuff wiTH Things. Go ahead, Jay. Get that guapoly.

(9) This week, the House voted to expand the federal definition of hate crimes to include those based on a victim’s gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability. The fate of the provision (which was unnecessarily tacked onto a bill providing for military pay, construction and disability benefits in typical legislative fashion), now lies in the hands of President Obama. Obviously, this has a lot of hatemongers up in arms as they vehemently oppose anything that acknowledges homosexuals as human beings. We’re just happy the bill doesn’t extend the definition to include Richies. So feel free to continue to set fire to mansions and tip over BMWs.

Come on, Murray. He gave us this. He can't be all bad.

(8) Bill Murray did some serious McG hating this week when he responded to reports that the Fastlane creator claimed he and Murray butted heads on the set of Charlie’s Angels. Murray deadpanned that McG should die. We love Bill Murray and are REALLY mad at McG for that shitty Terminator movie he trotted out this summer, but let’s all just look at this as a blessing in disguise because it led to Bill Murray not being in Charlie’s Angels: Full Fartle (aka one of the absolute worst movies ever).

(7) This week, while some has-been reality show loser was busy calming the treacherous waters whipped up by his family’s fabricated balloon debacle (to which we advocate getting all draconian on his ass, strapping him to a balloon and sending him to the cosmos for wasting valuable media time--meaning, our MacGyver reruns), the Hoff was signing a deal to be in his own reality show—think Breaking Bonaduce with less ‘roids but hotter women. In what will be the best example of art imitating life seen all year, sorry sack-of-shit viewers will now be able to eat junk food, get fat and stay astoundingly wasted while watching someone eat junk food, get fat and stay astoundingly wasted (KITT would not approve).

(6) Amidst all of the fuckery from that ridiculous balloon boy hoax… finally something worth our limited attention spans. On his way home from picking up a sack work, an unidentified neighbor of the Heene family literally ran into some media folks in the street. You have to watch the video to truly appreciate what happens next… but essentially a lame (but weirdly awesome) fight ensues after the neighbor is jumped on “FROM BEHIND?!!”

(5) Underrated comedic mastermind Bob Odenkirk celebrated his birthday this week. If you don’t know who Odenkirk is, you’re probably reading this site from a bleak alternative dimension devoid of laughter and happiness. While we have no way of backing up this statement, we’re pretty sure that Odenkirk has either written, directed, or acted on every worthwhile comedic venture since the mid-nineties. Odenkirk wrote for Saturday Night Live and for early episodes of the Late Night with Conan O’Brien (when Conan was truly batshit insane), he’s guested on shows like Seinfeld and Arrested Development, and he directed the Will Forte tour-de-force The Brothers Solomon. His greatest contribution remains the insanely brilliant HBO sketch show Mr. Show, which Odenkirk created with super best friend David Cross. Mr. Show was subversive and cool, and usually on after Real Sex, which made it perfect sleepover material for the developing adolescent brains of your Culture Blues editors. Happy birthday, Bob. You’re part of why we’re so fucked up.

Somebody just told him there's no championship belts in heaven.

(4) Hulk Hogan was on the press circuit promoting his upcoming book, My Life Outside the Ring, this week. In the book, Hogan admits to nearly offing himself with a gun when his marriage to Linda Sorta Milf Bollea ended. Jeez, can’t we all just go back to the halcyon days when pro wrestlers were fun, the sport was untarnished, and gimmicks were wonderfully lighthearted?

(3) Typically the only English things we’re interested in are Guy Ritchie kabala anecdotes and Oasis break up stories, but this week’s tale about the Performing Rights Society (Britain’s answer to the RIAA) harassing an old lady for singing in her shop caught our attention. After years of downloading music illegally (just kidding, FBI!) and spending our time railing against the greedy out-of-touch suits that lord over the American music industry, we’re shocked to say that we’re actually glad to have them. It could be much, much worse. Apparently, England’s PRS operates like an auditory Gestapo, going so far as to regulate when and where ordinary folks can listen to their radios. In the last few years they’ve levied fines against business owners for playing radios in their stores, kids singing carols, and lonely farm maidens playing music to calm their horses. Say what you will about the RIAA, but we’ve been straight jacking those fuck-ups for years and they’ve never had the temerity to pop by our office and give us a ticket for our penchant to spit a little ODB on our lunch hours.

You're welcome.

(2) It was a slow news week, which means we reverted back to one of our favorite pastimes – trying to dig up some info on when we’ll be able to see the Cat Shit One animated series. Explaining the whole thing would be pointless. Just take a look at the picture on the left, then watch this trailer, then join us in eager anticipation. Also, prepare to be dumbfounded.

(1) Apparently not knowing when to quit, Kentucky Fried Chicken (fuck your initials) is preparing for another grilled chicken giveaway on Monday. In case you don’t remember (or were lucky enough to be uninformed), their last stunt like this resulted in massive crowds, long lines and a worldwide chicken shortage that nearly crippled the global economy. Look people, we know that times are tough. We know that you will line up and wait for anything that is “free” even if you don’t know what it is or why you want it. So, we are making a plea for sanity here. That free chicken is going to cost you valuable fleeting moments of your life while also infecting you with chemicals that were never meant to be in a chicken or human’s body. It’s bad chicken, and it will mess you up. Furthermore, why don’t you just go pay for some Popeye’s? That shit is delicious! Remember folks, just because it’s free doesn’t mean it’s worth it.

Jeff Hart, Jeremiah White, Jason Arican and John Burgman contributed to this Countdown.

This koala likes to nap, just like us.

(15) Australia's koalas (aka the world's koalas) are being threatened by a monumental loss of natural habitat, and the stress of overcrowding is causing a breakout of chlamydia (yes, THAT chlamydia - do NOT laugh). In order to raise awareness about this dire situation, Culture Blues would like to dedicate this countdown to the plight of the koalas (cue sappy music). We’re not going to live in a world without these furry little monsters.

(14) In a celebration that you probably have to be Chinese to understand, 10,000 Chinamen (not the preferred nomenclature, dude) gathered in Chonquing to laugh simultaneously. The creepy display of manufactured levity was just one of many bizarre ways Red China is celebrating the 60^th anniversary of its blood-drenched creation. We’re happy the PRC has made it to 60 and we’d love to send those wonderful Chinese our fondest regards, but they aren’t allowed to read our website. Next week, the Chinese plan to remember the Hundred Flowers Campaign (where dissidents like us were flushed out and persecuted) by gathering for a group armpit fart.

This one is fighting a crow... in midair.

(13) GM's plan to sell the Saturn line to Penske Automotive Group fell through this week, putting the line of cars and 13,000 dealership jobs in grave jeopardy. Inside sources have indicated that the deal's failure is entirely attributable to a new GM employee who wasted an entire week sleeping and drumming pencils on his desk rather than working on the all important "Penske file." The employee, George Costanza, could not be reached for comment.

(12) Brooklyn is so gully that even its swans drop bodies. Yuppie-filled Prospect Park, previously known for its roving baby gangs and Frisbee related homicides, is now home to feuding families of swans. One family, protecting its turf, attempts to drown the family on the other side of Prospect Park Pond by jumping on their backs. The father of the aggressors has been dubbed “The Monster” by locals. They mean it in a bad way, but it’s mostly just bad-ass. A bunch of namby pamby hippy pacifists have been lobbying the friggin’ government to step in and have been going to the park to try to protect and hydrate and coddle the sissies who can’t hold their ground. We would like to lobby the sickly family to get on the steroids. This underground swan fighting operation we’ve set up isn’t going to last long if it’s all first round knockouts.

This is a koala's claw. It could gut you if it wanted to... and it just might.

(11) So this lady who couldn't find some sad sack to impregnate her buys some sperm from a bank, moves to London and has twins thanks to the miracle of science. Happy story right? But what happens when you run out of money because you've been living high on the hog with British royalty for years and you get kicked out of your "flat." Naturally you come back to America and its warm litigious embrace and sue that deadbeat sperm donor bastard-maker for paternity. A Massachusetts court ruled that it wanted fuck-all to do with her attempt to force the sperm bank to name the anonymous donor. We're not going to comment on the irony of a woman known only as Jane Doe trying to take an anonymous sperm donor to court. But we will say that about 300 sperm banks around the country got "please dispose of" requests from the Culture Blues offices yesterday.

(10) While promoting that Brad Pitt/nazi movie overseas, Quentin Tarantino has claimed that there will definitely be a third Kill Bill movie. Although it won’t really be a “Kill Bill” movie cause Bill is dead. It’ll be more like a “I’m gonna try to get in Uma’s pants one more time” movie. Tarantino claims he’d like to have 10 years to have passed between 2 and 3 because he wants Uma’s character to have had 10 years of peace and also because he doesn’t understand how movies work. Regardless, this all sounds strangely familiar.

(9) Not content with its place in global economics, Japan has begun to reverse globalize America and infiltrate that most trusted of our institutions – the fast food industry. Onya, a Japanese noodle chain, recently opened their first North American location in midtown Manhattan. Adventurous diners looking for something exotic should order Udon special # 2: Bukkake noodle. Thanks but we’d just like the house sauce, please.

In the future, it's us versus the robots, and the robots win every single time.

(8) The frozen head of Ted Williams has been horribly mistreated, alleges a former cryogenic executive from the Alcor Life Extension Foundation (Ra’s al-Ghul, CEO). Williams’ head has undergone all kinds of punishment, including being drilled, hit with a wrench, and occasionally removed from cold storage (if it ruins the chicken nuggets, what will it do to brains?). We have no indication if this will affect Williams’ scheduled 2020 debut at Cyber Egg Stadium.

(7) Google started handing out invitations to its next life altering innovation Google Wave this week. It promises to be the Email/Communication 2.0 or some other such buzz word gobbledygook. Imagine Email+IM+Video & Voice Chat+Collaboration+Sharing+Losing more hours of your life tagging photos and updating your status. Just think of it as the next step down the road that will one day lead to Google becoming Skynet and bringing Judgment Day to us all. When reached for comment an unnamed Google rep. was quoted as saying "We here at Google are proud to bring you products that enrich your life, aid your creativity, and steal your information." P.S. If anyone has invites out there, we here at Culture Blues would love some.

(6) Because you don’t have as much international street cred as us, you’re probably not aware that the greatest rapper in all of Germany, Bushido, turned 31 this week. Of course, we’ve been following Bushido since his days in Berlin’s Most Wanted. We even remember Bushido’s beef with Aggro Berlin and Bass Sultan Hengzt. Shit was crazy, son. Anyway, happy birthday Bushido, and happy Oktoberfest to all you goose stepping German hip hop heads out there.

"Welcome to primetime, bitch!"

(5) The first trailer from the Nightmare on Elm Street reboot has arrived and we’re not impressed yet. Honestly, we thought that Freddy learned his lesson when he got his ass beat by Jason fucking Voorhees. But no, the burnt one is back for some recycled bits from Wes Craven’s original and for absolutely none of the wisecracking and puns he’d become known for in the later movies. Everything has to be so serious now (thanks Dark Knight). Jackie Earle Haley (Rorschach and the child molester from Little Children) takes over the role of razor glove wielding former child molester Freddy Krueger. In case you’re not familiar with Freddy, you can see all of his kills ever here. Thank you internet.

(4) In his memoir, “Behind the Bell” (out this week), Dustin “Screech” Diamond dishes that his Saved by the Bell co-star Mark-Paul Gosselaar used to take steroids. Diamond says, “If you watch [Saved by the Bell:] The College Years, you can see massive amount—25 pounds of growth occur in about two months.” Well…that’s a big “if,” Dustin. Really big.

I mean, come on. Somebody needs to fix this. Look at them!

(3) Although they were unveiled earlier this year the internet blew up this week with stories about our government’s newest innovation in military development: Cyborg Beetles. Researchers at the University of California, Berkley (with funding from the incredibly powerful and somewhat ominous DARPA) have succeeded in "controlling a live rhinoceros beetle by remote control" Tech-on reports. A series of six electrodes are hooked up to the brain and muscles of the insect, then with the use of the same type of controller that operates the toy car you bought your nephew last Christmas, one can control the insects like some sort of petty God. DARPA intends to use this breakthrough in order to make insect spies. INSECT FUCKING SPIES!!! Just sit there for one second and imagine all of the possible applications for insect spies. Or how about when they branch out to other animals? Can you imagine there one day being a Gorilla spy? I know... Pretty awesome... Especially if they get him a badass tux like James Bond.

(2) Perhaps the saddest news from the butt-rock world this week was that Limp Bizkit’s Fred Durst has been left high and dry by his wife of two months, Esther Nazarov. (Girls with names like that are incapable of loving you unconditionally). Durst informed fans of the breakup on his Twitter page, which, was appropriate because, let’s be honest, social networking is basically the butt-rock of the internet (FOLLOW US!).

(1) On Thursday, David Letterman delivered yet another monumental moment of television. With sincerity, humility and a bit of self-deprecation Letterman gives a detailed account of his affairs with staffers and subsequent blackmailing and sting operation. Letterman has repeatedly shown that he is capable of operating entirely outside of the confines of most television personalities. This was perhaps the most newsworthy example yet as he delivers a 10 minute monologue that left the audience intrigued, confused and laughing. And in a particularly clever trick, Letterman manages to turn the tables and leave no doubt that the blackmailer is the only bad guy here. It is both shocking and exhilarating to know that Letterman has been able to survive so long on network television in the 11:30 time slot with his tendency to create groundbreaking and compelling television moments that reach far beyond the spectrum of late night TV.

Jeremiah White, Jeff Hart, John Burgman, Giovanny Caquias and Cheese contributed to this Countdown.

Every month in "Why didn't you watch...?" we will take a look at a television series that was criminally and irresponsibly canceled before its time; taking a critical look at the show while also delving into what was wrong with all of you people that you couldn't tune in for 30 or 60 minutes each week. The rules are simple: the show must have been canceled, it can't have lasted for two full seasons, and we have to like it. So, why didn't you watch...

For years, I've thought that horror movies could tell more resonant stories and develop compelling mythologies if they would just get out of their own way. Stop ignoring previous movies in the first act, retconning huge amounts of backstory in the second, and wrapping everything up in the third as if we all don’t know the killer will rise again. Horror movies deal with pretty epic stuff: death, the devil, ancient mumbo jumbo, family secrets, machetes. Rather than engage in franchise-building, slasher films basically force themselves to start from the beginning with every sequel. Watching all the movies in a series generally doesn’t offer any benefit except a larger pile of bodies.

Harper’s Island is, essentially, a slasher film told over the course of 13 episodes of television. But don’t tune in expecting to see a maniac stalking around right from the beginning. The identity of the killer is naturally the big hook of the series and, at least initially, all the murders are shrouded in mystery. I was worried the creators would hold back the reveal of the killer too long, hoping people would continue to tune in just to find out who the killer was. Fortunately, this is not the case and for a significant portion of the series you will get to watch a psychopath stalk and kill yuppies - graphically.

Harper’s Island’s commitment to genre standards means that all the problems normally encountered in a slasher film are present here, and perhaps even amplified by the expanded runtime. The writing and acting slip into bad more often than great. There's a lot of time dedicated to less-than-compelling storylines that only serve to fill time between kills. In fact, the first few episodes (which would correspond to just the first 15 or 20 minutes of a film) are fairly frivolous and serve only to introduce you to characters that you don't really need much time to get to know.

On the flip side, the payoffs you get from a slasher film are similarly amplified. There is more time to explore the backstory, to chase red herrings and to, in general, thicken the plot. There are even more kills than your average horror movie (I'm certainly not saying it bests some of the most zealous films).

Is that a body, or just an ornate crucifix?

Speaking of murders, one of the prerequisites for slasher films is that we get to see blood and guts spew from victims as they are killed in unusual and gruesome ways. Seeing as how this was a show on CBS in primetime, I was pleasantly surprised by how graphic some of the murders were. I’m sure my expectations were tempered, and by actual horror movie standards it’s not going to blow anyone away, but I’d be pretty surprised if you could put all this gore into a movie and still get a PG-13. By that reasoning, you’re getting a legitimate R experience from a broadcast network show which I think is rare and noteworthy.

While Harper’s Island suffered through an unfortunate pre-premiere marketing campaign that had me convinced for weeks that it was just a horror themed reality show, some sort of unofficial sequel to Murder in Small Town X, I would argue that the show actually offers an interesting hybrid of both the past and the future of dramatic television. Television shows used to be conceptualized to run indefinitely and written to maintain the status quo. One of the biggest changes in American television over the past few years is the move toward ending a show when the story dictates rather than the ratings. Harper’s Island is perhaps the most extreme version of this possible. It was all filmed and in the can before a single episode aired.

A change that has arrived hand in hand with the increased focus on serialized story-telling is that television has now become a medium for the gaze, like film, and not the glance. Networks formerly operated under the assumption that members of the audience would not see every episode of a season, much less the series, and that people were likely to miss portions of episodes. Important events did not happen right after a commercial break because people were still coming back from the kitchen or bathroom. References to previous events were worked into the dialogue for the benefit of people who missed the beginning of the episode.

While VCRs have long made it possible for people to keep up with a show even if they can’t sit down every week, the rising popularity and revolutionary convenience of DVRs and the availability of episodes online and in complete DVD sets are what have really opened the market for serialized television. Shows that require beginning to end attention like Lost and The Wire were much more rare just 10 years ago than they are today. This is where Harper’s Island takes a cue from television’s past. Harper’s Island doesn’t require that much attention.

While giving Harper’s Island your undivided attention will certainly yield some rewards, it’s entirely unnecessary. After CBS relegated the show to Saturdays, I watched new episodes online. I surfed the internet, checked emails and paid bills. All while keeping an eye on my CBS window. With the handy ability to rewind should I feel like I missed something, I was completely satisfied watching the show in this way and don’t really feel like I missed much.

While this may seem like a clear indication that a show isn’t worth your time, it is actually an endorsement. Harper’s Island is a 13-episode slasher film, and even the best examples in the genre don’t require constant attention. Being able to zone out or crack jokes between grisly murders is part of the fun.

Just one of Harper's Island's unfortunate inhabitants.

Of course, I would be remiss if I did not point out that the last four episodes turn the entertainment value way up. I would likely burn through these in one sitting if I were watching them on DVD.

In terms of story, Harper’s Island doesn’t break any new ground. People visiting the picturesque Harper’s Island for a wedding are being killed off one by one. There is a mysterious connection to the island’s legendary killing spree of 7 years ago. It’s all pretty familiar territory, but the writers do a commendable job of setting up the pieces and then dismembering them one at a time. There are some small surprises along the way, but the major revelations will be predicted by astute viewers. What Harper’s twists lack in shock value, however, they make up for in terms of being well placed and well played. The past and present stories are both told satisfactorily, and in the end they end up enhancing each other rather than forming one convoluted mess as is the case in many slasher movies.

One thing that immediately distinguishes Harper’s Island from the slasher films it emulates is the span of time. Most slasher films take place over just a few hours once the killing really starts, taking us through a bloody prom night or one seriously traumatic night at summer camp. Typically, we don’t see too much of the characters’ psychological reactions to having their lives (and bodies) dismantled by a homicidal psychopath. Harper’s Island, on the other hand, takes place over several days.  We spend a great deal of time with these characters even after it becomes obvious that something is seriously wrong and that some members of the party are not, in fact, selfish flakes but are instead, very dead.

In a film, there’s usually one scene where a token victim loses their cool until another protagonist calms them down and, before we know it, our heroes are back on the hunt or back on the run. In Harper’s Island, the longer time span translates to more downtime for many characters. These characters are forced to face the fact that they are being hunted. This could have been the show’s undoing. I wasn’t sure anyone in the cast was prepared to offer us a compelling portrait of someone who is all at once scared for their own life and processing the sudden murders of many people close to them. However, as the series draws on, and the focus is less on grief, the acting becomes much less of a weakness. The creators don’t attempt to do psychological drama and, ultimately, whether the acting is terrific or not, the audience feels the draining effect that this experience has on the characters. As they find themselves in a situation that most people would consider unimaginable, they react believably, which is to say they completely fall to pieces. A few characters never lose sight of the goal of getting off the island and surviving. More interesting though, are the other characters who display signs of depression, and feelings of anger, hopelessness, helplessness and regret. These are all shown in enough depth that they feel genuine and earned, yet the show never wallows in them so long that it detracts from the maniac killer plot we all showed up for. There is a scene late in the series when the would-be bride puts on her wedding dress, which has become nothing more than a memento from a past life. It’s a scene that could have been cheesy, but it provides a poignant moment considering all that has preceded it, as well as a great visual. Most importantly, however, it quickly leads into some exciting killer shenanigans.

She's not running to the chapel.

The main aspect of what I referred to as the “unfortunate pre-premiere marketing campaign,” was saddling each of the recurring characters with some sort of cheap label: the bride, the groom, the sheriff, the outsider. While I don’t think announcing that the characters are easily summed up in one word is a good way to advertise a show, it’s actually a pretty accurate and honest representation of these characters. The labels are slightly oversimplified, but the characters are not complex or deep. Some of them have nice little character arcs, but for the most part they start at point A and die there as well. However, while they may not develop much, the number and variety of characters and the shifting dynamics that come with them stop things from becoming too tiresome. Furthermore, without the contrivances of complicated histories and shadowy motives that many shows foist upon their characters, the people on Harper’s Island actually seem like normal people. This is integral to making them sympathetic. And while the characters may not be terrific creations in their own right, the writers obviously know how to use them for maximum effect. There are a number of deaths that stand out, and there is even one confrontation late in the series that all by itself made me happy to have stuck with the show. It showed a flare for the dramatic and a stylistic sensibility that I, at once, wish the creators had employed more often and am happy that they kept in check, making its use more effective and preventing the show from becoming ostentatious.

The killer gets a considerable amount of screen time late in the series, and it’s not all limited to walking slowly and sticking sharp things into people. Once revealed, they get some unexpected and welcome characterization and interaction, going well beyond the emotionless killer we are used to. There’s an amusing and human moment when the killer recalls the struggle involved in one of the most recent murders. It’s great. With a deeper understanding of the killer, the murders themselves shake off the somewhat arbitrary feeling they have early on and become memorable dramatic moments that propel the story. It’s slasher protocol that the villain take a backseat to his own murderous rampages and Harper’s Island wisely breaks from this convention.

Finally, please rest assured that everything is wrapped up at the end of the series. This doesn’t mean every insignificant detail is explained and question answered. But the major storylines all come to a conclusion and the characters’ stories are completed. There is no hand rising from the grave or Jason jumping out of the lake in the last frame. I think this sort of closure is going to be a rarity for “Why Didn’t You Watch…” entries.

Not this time...

There are many totally reasonable and accurate criticisms that can be leveled against Harper’s Island. But, it’s always nice to see something genuinely different on television, especially one of the networks, and Harper’s Island delivers just what I’d hoped for: a solid slasher experience that is unlike anything you could get from a feature film. With so many great ways to entertain yourself out there, I wouldn’t uniformly recommend Harper’s Island as a must see, but it’s worthwhile for fans of the genre or people who are just looking for something different. Hopefully before too long, someone will be encouraged to give the “slasher mini-series” another shot, with a bit more support than CBS offered this time around.