Welcome to Revenge of the Remakes, where columnist Matt Donato takes us on a journey through the world of horror remakes. We all complain about Hollywood’s lack of originality whenever studios announce new remakes, reboots, and reimaginings, but the reality? Far more positive examples of refurbished classics and updated legacies exist than you’re willing to remember (or admit). The good, the bad, the unnecessary – Matt’s recounting them all.
With the announcement of any remake, horror or not, follows one critical question: “Why?” I’ll never gripe a film isn’t “necessary” – no film, by definition, is “necessary” – but intentions behind remakes are massively fundamental. Are you modernizing a decades-old antique? Swapping gender perspectives? Americanizing a foreign powerhouse? Countless revisionist reasons prevail as to why filmmakers would attach themselves to yet another remake, but Travis Zariwny’s Cabin Fever (2016) will forever remain a most peculiar outlier.
As the story goes, Eli Roth was approached by Zariwny and others with the prospect of remaking Cabin Fever. Their catch? Roth’s original script would be used once again. Roth agreed, attached himself as an executive producer, and thus Zariwny’s experiment in challenging remake culture was underway.
The Approach
Eli Roth and co-writer Randy Pearlstein retain sole scripting credits on Zariwny’s renovation. That means the remake’s approach is quite simple: reshoot a mirror image replica. Roth is quoted citing “significant changes” supposedly after he screened Zariwny’s first cut, but that’s a mouthful of toxic reservoir runoff. Zariwny’s iteration of Cabin Fever ain’t all that different from Roth’s. Like, 98% unchanged. A problematic ratio that brings us right back to my first question, “Why?”
Once again, horned-up college students flee from civility to their cabin in the woods. Once again, a loner hermit contracts some flesh-eating virus that ends up tainting drinking water supplies. Once again, Paul (Samuel Davis) and his friends panic while quarantine protocols fail, flesh peels from muscle, and rednecks hunt the group as a means of extermination. You’ll recognize just about every single narrative twist and plotted pivot because you’ve seen this movie already. Your brain ain’t playing tricks.
In short, Cabin Fever 2.0 is the antithesis of remake culture. A black eye that justifies outraged moviegoers who foam at the mouth whenever a new remake is announced. “We already have Cabin Fever, do we really need another one?” In this case, based on Zariwny’s phoned-in blueprint, I have no combative retort.
Does It Work?
Fuck. No.
When I watched Cabin Fever (2016) upon initial release, years after sweating out Roth’s itchy backwoods outbreak, frustration bubbled due to disparaging familiarity. After this weekend’s back-to-back refresh, a nauseating case of déjà vu left me fifty shades of infuriated. Zariwny’s implied reasoning behind his “essential” Cabin Fever rebirth boils down “let’s make it more serious…and Dr. Mambo looks meaner this time.” In better hands, maybe you’d have something as starkly ravenous and singularly evil in comparison such as Fede Alvarez’s Evil Dead to Sam Raimi’s horror classic.
What’s important to remember, and what a rewatch of Roth’s Cabin Fever reminds, is how the original is written to be an early 2000s horror-comedy. Zariwny goes for the “dark, gritty” reboot vibe, but 2016’s film still leaves all of Roth’s jokey written elements intact without sufficient tweaks. It’s…a baffling disservice. Look no further than when the bratty outsiders encounter slightly hostile locals when shopping for supplies, as the once offbeat-but-menacing Tommy (Hal Courtney) is now overplaying these oafish lines in dour-sour serious fits of “anger” (Aaron Trainor). Roth’s version was thoughtfully campier, and without those directorial instructions – yet using the SAME dialogue – what you get is a very confused Cabin Fever 2.0.
Actual changes are in odd disarray. Why name Henry’s patient zero pooch “Pancakes” but also keep the child nibbler’s “PANCAKES!” line? Doesn’t that nullify the immediate Easter Egg? Is it enough to cast Louise Linton as Deputy Winston, plus one other blink-and-you’ll-miss *minor* character gender-switch and say, “Look! We changed something”? Why remake if you’re not going to swing for a more ambitious ending, as Zariwny’s finale shaves down Roth’s climax into something so diminishingly by-the-books? The idea of a remake, in my mind, is for creators to inject originality into something outdated or known, as Alvarez’s Evil Dead impresses all unto its own jet-black merits. Zariwny’s approach is insultingly the opposite, providing a shot-for-shot remake that replaces Roth’s namesake quirk with…essentially nothing.
More video game references since Bert (Dustin Ingram) is now a Gamergate stereotype with an assault rifle fetish? Only worth a handful of lines that update period details with namedrops like Black Ops II and Minecraft. The house is bigger? The hermit stays alive longer and pulls Paul into the water versus Paul’s broken ladder fall? Fine, fair is fair. I’ll say 89% of the film is recycled junk.
The Result
Quite frankly, as a horror fan and remake enthusiast, Cabin Fever (2016) is a sickly slap to the face. Zariwny’s experiment a failure, the film’s existence an utter redundancy, and execution so churned-out there’s no personality beyond mimicry. We’ll cover plenty of titles throughout this series where justification is earned, be it a director’s hungry desire to plant their own distinct flag or countless other considerations. Zariwny’s biggest problem is never revealing *why* history demands his Cabin Fever, which is a major malfunction when remaking someone else’s work. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” yadda yadda.
My sole pre-marathon wild card regarded gore, but Cabin Fever (2002) holds up tremendously against Cabin Fever (2016) in the brutality department. One instance stands out where Zariwny’s team pushes a bit farther as Paul mercy kills Karen – 2002’s shovel bludgeon sprays blood but stays fixated on Rider Strong, 2016’s has Samuel David fail at beheading Gage Golightly in full view – but expect little else. Both viruses pustulate and scab skin as it discolors before rupturing into leaky wounds, while Roth’s SFX squad has way more fun with Vomitron blood pukeage. Karen’s decayed facial prosthetic in Roth’s version, I challenge, looks better than most viral carnage in Zariwny’s. Plus you get Grim’s dismemberment, screwdriver impalements, and Marcy’s same puppy-chow leftovers. Zariwny doesn’t even permit the harmonica guitar-smash gag (but keeps the instrument smack), nor the hillbilly self-defensive sequence (this time just Paul spraying assault rifle bullets for a limp finish).
You can argue the whole “dark, gritty remake” phase worked for revamps like Friday The 13th or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You’d be right. Is that intention enough? In the right hands, yes. As exemplified here, hell to-the-no.
Roth’s Marcy (Cerina Vincent) kickstarts her group’s adventure by telling a soda slurpin’’ youngster never to attend college right before early 00s nu-metal kicks in and sets an immediate tone for the road trip ahead. Adversely, Zariwny’s beginning favors repetitious cinematography of so many horror introductions past. What sounds like The Shining’s score plays atop a car driving down one long stretch of forest highway, no conversation. Both filmmakers set their stages early and follow through, Roth for better (in my view), and Zariwny for much worse. Aesthetic and atmospheric “dread” that’s no different from countless indies this critic has devoured in the last few years alone. You’ve missed the point of remakes by regurgitating horror content audiences have already scarfed down, now in an even less palatable texture.
Remakes should *always* offer something the original does not. Take advantage of aspects the source couldn’t achieve, or at the very ‘effing least, strive for a 50/50 blend of previous script material and new additions. If not, what’s the point? Where’s the value? What is your product adding to horror’s canon that hasn’t been said or done already, quite literally in the curious case of Cabin Fever (2016)?
The Lesson
One bit of provocation I’ll let linger is the following: how would Cabin Fever (2016) be received if Cabin Fever (2002) never happened? Granted, Travis Zariwny’s not hatching his brainchild without Eli Roth’s feature idea so it’s kind of a null question. Still, what if? Would tempers flare? Is it even a question worth asking? Food for thought or argument.
Now onto my actual lessons.
- Remakes should never be shot-for-shot duplicates. How did we get here? I shouldn’t have to say this. C’mon.
- If you *are* going to reuse a completed, shot-once script virtually verbatim, you better be vastly altering the finished product’s visual makeup. Where’s the urgency if not only all character interactions are lazily repeated, but locations and set dressings drive home that empty feeling of “haven’t we been here before?”
- Remakes that earn distinguish and praise all wander away from the path already traveled while still honoring namesake influences. Cabin Fever (2016) uses opposite methods to instill why.
- Holy shit, for real, did you seriously just make the same movie?
Do you know who I’d love to see tackle Cabin Fever using Eli Roth’s screenplay? Noah Baumbach. Wes Anderson. Joe Lynch. Agnieszka Smoczynska. Ari Aster. Robert Eggers. The Safdie Brothers. Jordan Peele. Richard Stanley. Nicolas Pesce. Claire Denis. Ava Du-fucking-Vernay. With any of these listed filmmakers, you know you’re getting a Cabin Fever that won’t bear resemblance to anything previously screened. That (should be) the heart and impetus of any worthwhile remake, which Zariwny misunderstands from the get-go. At least, in my eyes.
Maybe there’s a market for carbon copy cinema I haven’t yet encountered (because the end times are still not upon this bastard Earth)?