The Messengers 2007

There is nothing worse than having skeletons in your closet; unless, of course, you have vengeance-seeking dead people in your cellar, too. In The Messengers, both the skeletons and the dead people come together in a fusion of Japanese Horror and American Gothic imagery that works well for its PG-13 scare-o meter rating, providing the first notable mainstream horror film of 2007.

In the opening moments, the tragedy — and there is always a motivating tragedy in Japanese Horror — sets the tone for the mayhem to come, as one family reluctantly takes up permanent residence in the cellar of their old, dark farmhouse, stuck out in the middle of a North Dakota sunflower farm. Lucky for them they no longer need to worry about the mortgage because another family is eager to move in.

The Solomon family is also reluctantly taking up residence in the farmhouse. Seems something happened in the big city that has caused a lot of tension between them, and  they need a place to work things out. Now me, I'd be heading to the corner Starbucks' for a Venti-sized cup of steamy comfort; but, I suppose, there's something to be said for the peace and quiet of the countryside; if you can get it, that is.

Maybe it's me, but whenever I come across locked cellar doors in old, dark farmhouses stuck out in the middle of nowhere — and no Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts in screaming distance — I worry. Toss in the Cigarette-Smoking Man from the X-files, William B. Davis, who keeps showing up trying to buy back the farm, and I'd really be freaking out.

But it takes that other family, the bluish-gray, morbid-looking one, playing with Ben in the dead of night, and slowly getting on Jess's nerves, that starts to shake up the peace and quiet. Maybe it's that clickety-clack scampering along walls and ceilings they do, or that nasty habit of floating, gallows-style, a little above the floor that is so unsettling; but that nasty black stain on the kid's wall, the one that keeps coming back, would definitely have sent me back to the big city pronto. That, and the kid's habit of looking and pointing at nothing.

While we've seen these Japanese Horror stylizations before, shown against the backdrop of the creepy farmhouse, and the ever-present crows that hover on and around it, they take on an added factor of creepiness. One scene, in particular, exemplifies this, as Jess is dragged by an unseen force down the long hallway, to the edge of the open cellar door, then suddenly grabbed by cadaverous arms that shoot out of the darkness from behind her, trying to pull her down into the cellar. Old, dark farmhouses have scary cellars that are just perfect for scenes like this.

The more American Gothic elements kick into play when John suddenly shows up at the farm. Toting a shotgun to scare away the increasing number of crows, he stays on to help bring in the crop of sunflowers. Meanwhile, those skeletons in the closet keep rattling for the Solomons as Jess tries to get her family to believe in the nightmarish events she's been subjected to. John lends a sympathetic ear, but Jess realizes she will need to find out what really happened to the previous family in order to save her's.

While she goes off to find help, her Mom gets to intimately know that annoyingly large black, moldy stain on the wall in the kid's room, and John intimately, and rather suddenly, gets to confront his past. Both families eventually meet, too, though I'd hold the dip and chips if I were you.

If you're looking for gore and sprays of arterial blood, go elsewhere. The Messengers is better than that. Using PG-13 shock cuts, good acting, and a pacing that gives you time to reflect on the unfolding tragedy -- while still delivering the scares -- it gives me hope that maybe this year, horror will return to its character-driven roots and drop the body count.