With a title right out of an old school grindhouse film, there's certainly no reason to expect such a high-gloss piece of entertainment. Indeed, as author-producer Clive Barker remarks in one of the DVD's strong bonus features, "the very title announces that you are not watching Winnie the Pooh on ice." No doubt about that--unless by "on ice" you mean a bear carcass strung up on a walk-in's meat hook.

Yet despite "delivering the goods" early on, what I suspect really draws audiences into The Midnight Meat Train is its intelligence and craftsmanship. (Barker himself instead cites the ol' "characters you care about" angle, but to me this isn't the main selling point--yes, the cast is not as nearly as disposable as in other horror films, but this is hardly Arthur Miller material either.) That intelligence is evident both in MMT's themes and the way that the filmmakers underscore them without, well, bludgeoning you with them. When Brooke Shields, in a nice turn as an arch tastemaker, gives aspiring art photographer Bradley Cooper advice, it sounds like she's evangelizing for "the wonder" straight out of James Ellroy's novel Clandestine--the mysterious, vaguely taboo, perilous, and yet authentic world that lies embedded in modern cities. So when her character tells him to stay stand his ground and, essentially, keep looking, she's admonishing the audience to do so as well.

The neat thing about using photographers as protagonists, especially those who work outside studios, is they are simultaneously metaphors for the filmmaker and for the audience, with the voyeuristic angle at least as old as Rear Window. Jeff Bulher's script smartly plays to this subtext without getting pretentious. Similarly, the psychological, sexual, and psychosexual overtones of riding a train in an underground tunnel hover just beyond one's awareness, lending a mythological gravitas to events, especially in the early going.

I emphasize "early" because about halfway through, MMT takes on many of the narrative elements of the amateur-sleuth yarn and in the process becomes reminiscent of both Antonio's Blowup and a Nancy Drew adventure, albeit a gore-soaked one. As such, the plot relies on coincidence to some extent and revisits some very familiar territory--scenes include breaking into and searching the bad guy's apartment and confronting a skeptical police detective. Still, as far as these tropes go, they are handled skillfully and, in the case of the apartment sequence, spectacularly, employing a ceilingless set to move between predator and prey in an impressive bird's-eye manner. I am not a big fan of director's Ryûhei Kitamura's Versus, but in this film he demonstrates tremendous talent in conceptualizing scenes of action and suspense far beyond the next blood spurt or shock cut. My only gripe is that he is overly fond of having Vinnie Jones look at the camera over his shoulder; an effective shot, to be sure, but by the third or fourth time it's used, it has become a visual cliché. Finally, in a movie about photography, you want the cinematography to be strong, and MMT doesn't disappoint: DP Jonathan Sela shoots the subway stations with a bluish glint that makes Jones's stainless steel hammer seem like part of the surroundings that has been chipped off for his personal use.   



As for the gore itself in this unrated version, its over-the-top-and-down-the-other-side sensibility betrays the director's background in Japanese genre film. Some viewers may be irked by the obvious CGI-enhancement of some shots, but one can also choose to see them as a variation on the recent My Bloody Valentine without actually being in 3-D. (Both films feature eyeballs that... well, you can figure out the rest yourself.) On the other hand, it's hard to imagine anyone having a problem with the fight scene set pieces, which feature both excellent stunt work and, in the climax, stunning camerawork as well. Of course by this time MMT has morphed into a full-fledged popcorn flick, no longer straight-up horror despite its Lovecraftian elements. In fact, it's this mixture of pulpy ingredients, and the blend of the "classic" and the new, that lead to the film's great success in capturing the spirit of Barker's work.



So if you were one of the many who wasn't able to enjoy MMT in its very limited theatrical release last year, here's the chance to enjoy a creative thriller that's more deserving of a look than most big screen horror releases these days. What's more, Lionsgate has delivered a really nifty package. "Clive Barker: The Man Behind the Myth" is far more thoughtful and less obsequious than its title would imply; focusing largely on his work as a painter, this short is clearly a must-see for Barker fans, but should be of interest to others as well--the man's effortless creativity practically oozes out of the screen. For Ted Raimi fans, of which there are many, there's a segment on the gore effects and stunt work in one of MMT's many kill scenes. And brief reflection on Vinnie Jones's Mahogany character helped me appreciate some nuances that I didn't take in while he was disemboweling late-night straphangers.

Bottom line, if if you're a horror fan who wants to see more films produced and distributed that are ambitious in terms of originality and polish, rather than just more clones of J-horror hits or remakes from '80s, you'll want to support this title by checking it out.