Metal Busters

The Gate (1987)
directed by Tibor Takács
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix

What I like about The Gate isn't, I think, exactly intentional. I like the way it starts: a kid comes home and expects his parents and his sister to be there, but they're not. His world is instantly topsy-turvy, as it would be for someone that age, and the fear sets in.

Unfortunately, that scene is a dream. But The Gate is good at archetypal suburban horror geared towards an audience not much older than the protagonist's older sister (about 12). Instead of disappearing, the parents go out of town, and the sister left in charge invites her buddies over to drink and pick on the pesky younger sibling. He hides out with his friend - and later his sister, once the monsters show - and opens a gate to the Underworld they unwittingly discover while looking for geodes.

Because it was made in 1987, the scarier stuff isn't so scary today, although there is an intensity to the danger that the people the main character relies on fall prey to. But something about the way that decade aged has smoothed the rough edges into polished, stylish narratives. As in I, Madman, which I watched last year in 2007, Takács demonstrates enough competency not to deserve his relegation to episodes of Red Shoe Diaries a mere five years later. The kicker for me is the idea that records by heavy metal bands do the heavy lifting on background research for knowing your local demon rituals, and that playing the albums backwards shows you the best way to rid your house of its hellish inhabitants.

Place your trust in the new gods of metal.