Miscellaneous, etc.

Prior to its release, the most notable story about Eight Legged Freaks that entertainment reporters could come up with was that the title had been changed at some point during production. Prior to filming, the title was actually something like Arach-Attack — which probably accounts for the appearance of that exact phrase more than once in the film’s dialogue — but was immediately changed when David Arquette ad-libbed the line, “Get the hell away from me! You EIGHT! LEGGED! FREAKS!”

So hilariously overdone was the line, so absolutely perfectly did it capture the tone of the scene and the movie as a whole, that the producers and directors couldn’t resist changing the movie’s title to reflect it. And while morning drive-time deejays the world over smirked and smugged their way through bits making fun of naming a movie after anything issuing forth from David Arquette’s lips, the movie previews promised a weird little mix of the funny, the gross and the sort of creepy in the form of giant, computer-generated spiders taking over a small town in the middle of Arizona.

The movie didn’t stand a chance. Not one in hell. I didn’t expect that it did, but quietly in my heart I sort of hoped that it would prove to be a surprise summer hit — people might be tiring of Important Epics like K19: The Widowmaker or The Road to Perdition, and they might be interested in seeing a summer comedy that didn’t have anything to do with time travel or Mike Meyers. But no, no, instead it came in seventh place on its opening weekend, a week before Austin Powers III hits theaters, two weeks before Signs, three weeks before XXX. There will be no second effort or sudden resurgence for Eight Legged Freaks, so I really hope it cost under eight million bucks to make, because they won’t be getting too much more than that.

Ellory Elkayem: Okay, next up is… Kari Wuhrer. Dean Devlin: Kari, it says here you’ve been on both Sliders and CSI, so– whoa, what’s with the outfit? Roland Emmerich: Um, Kari? We’re over here? Behind you? Ellory Elkayem: I’m sorry, Kari, but I’m not sure how this is supposed to be persuading us to give you the part. Scantily-clad women are a dime a dozen in Hollywood, and– Kari Wuhrer: Crrrrrrrrrrick! Dean Devlin: You’re hired. Roland Emmerich: You’re hired. Ellory Elkayem: You’re hired.

It’s a pity, too, because Eight Legged Freaks is rare in that it’s a dippy horror movie that’s deliberately B-Grade, and yet doesn’t trip over itself in an effort to be campy. It sucks, make no mistake, but it sucks with such genuine enthusiasm that you can’t help but get in on the joke, and enjoy the way the movie plays every familiar scenario for the gags you expect and the little surprises you didn’t see coming.

For example, early in the film, shortly after the hundreds of spiders have escaped from their captivity in a local shack, being fed radioactive crickets by a lonely insect collector, a cat is abducted from its hiding place in the drywall. You’re meant to anticipate the worst as the cat wanders over to a familiar hole, drawn by unfamiliar chittering and creaking; when the chitinous limb reaches out to snatch it, you’re almost gratified to see it happen. Things quickly veer into the bizarre, as the battle that ensues between cat and not-quite-giant-yet spider is played out half in the sounds of fierce snarls and insectoid clicks, and half in the impressions of cat and spider limbs poking through the walls as they slam each other around. By the time they reach the electrical outlet in the ceiling, you’re able to again safely predict what’s next; as the lights dim and the two opponents sizzle, while the cat’s owners look upwards in mournful confusion, you can again take a grim satisfaction in the dopey predictability of the joke.

Eight Legged Freaks works this pattern consistently, setting up entirely familiar scenarios, painting in elaborate detail the surroundings so that the people of the audience can begin studiously anticipating the horrors to ensue — it’s hilarious in the way it plays with those expectations, carrying the audience in one direction and paying it off with a gag, and then with exactly what should’ve happened in the first place. Another example: A diner full of people stand horrified as they watch their city streets overrun with giant spiders, which are leaping onto cars, people, buildings, and destroying everything with equal ferocity. Finally one notices the diner, and as the patrons cringe, the spider hurls itself towards the window with fangs extended — and splashes into a green goo against the solid glass. As everyone sighs in relief, a second spider crashes through the glass, and the carnage spills into the diner.

You can’t fault the movie for moments like those, even as they’re interspersed between scenes of spiders crawling all over the place, moving with eerie speed and ickiness. It’s easy to awaken basic human arachnophobia, but Eight Legged Freaks seems to understand that a movie about giant spiders can’t mire itself too deeply in realism. Spiders jump dozens of feet at a time, spray people in webs and spin them at fantastic speeds, growl and snarl at each other, and perform double-takes like the best cartoonish monsters. As quickly as they’re sinking their fangs into helpless victims, they’re waving their legs in front of their face to ward of vile-smelling perfume, or staggering dizzily away from high-speed collisions. The movie understands that the spiders are the show, and gives them as much personality as anyone else in it.

For their part, the cast makes no pretentions about why they’re in the movie, and it’s interesting that I couldn’t bring myself to hate David Arquette in this movie. I mean, it’s practically a condition of living in a free, democratic society that you at least make fun of David Arquette the way you might make fun of David Schwimmer or Rosanna Arquette (suggesting a conspiracy, when you really look at the names), but for me it’s difficult — my central issue with Hollywood these days is that far too many of the wrong people are taking themselves seriously, and that’s hardly a charge you can level at David Arquette. Should I condemn him for bringing too much gravity to his role as “Gordie Boggs” in Ready to Rumble, or for winning the WCW Championship belt to promote that movie? Clearly this is a guy with a clear idea of his position in the Hollywood food chain, and while that may be no higher (and indeed, slightly lower) than Clint Howard, at least he doesn’t carry himself with any kind of false airs.

And so it’s sort of appropriate that he — and his leading lady Kari Wuhrer, freshly starring from the Command and Conquer games — should be starring in Eight Legged Freaks, a movie that has absolutely no intentions for anyone to take it seriously. From my own experience, I know there are going to be people walking out of the movie theatre and complaining how much the movie sucked, how totally it failed to frighten them in the slightest, and how some of the scenes were so cheesy that it was just laughable. To them, I’d simply like to suggest how that was the fucking point, and submit that they might consider seeing it again with such gnomic wisdom in mind.

To the rest of you, see this while you can — it’s goofier than Men in Black II and less predictable than Austin Powers in Goldmember, even considering that it’s trying not to be. It’s just a shame that by the time you go to watch this, the only way you’ll get a ticket is if you’re booking a flight.