"Tremors" is a rarity: A genuinely suspenseful and gory thriller that manages to be whimsical. It may not be the funniest thriller I've seen ("Evil Dead 2" has it beat for pure laughs AND shock value), but it's a marvelously clever and engaging film well worth your time.
Think "Jaws" only with dirt. In an isolated Nevada valley, the residents of a tiny roadstop called Perfection discover they are no longer alone. Four giant worms, apparently separated from the set of "Dune," have taken up residence in the ground beneath them and acquired an appetite for human flesh. Standing on their rooftops, their cars and horses gone, the people of Perfection are picked off one by one, as odd-job men Val and Earl find themselves with their oddest job yet.
A lot of things are right with "Tremors," starting with the chemistry of the two leads. Kevin Bacon as Val radiates smug cockiness while Fred Ward as his older partner Earl worries about the future. Early on, we see the pair after working in a junkyard, drinking beers kept cold in a discarded toilet bowl. Disagreements are settled with contests of rock-paper-scissors.
Bacon may have been slumming in a film like this, but he delivers the best performance I've seen from him, enjoyably low-key and funny. Ward is even better in his grizzled grouchy way, fuming whenever his buddy rides him, which is often.
The rest of the small cast (only 17 people appear in the film, and most of them are appetizers) consists largely of no-names, but they are terrific, too. Michael Gross sheds the mellow dad persona TV viewers of the period knew from "Family Ties" as hawkish survivalist Burt Gummer who along with his wife Heather (country star Reba McEntire) finally discovers a use for that well-stocked weapons arsenal in his basement. Gross and McEntire are another great pair, too, and co-star with a giant worm in the film's most thrilling and mind-blowing scene, one of the zaniest thriller sequences ever shot.
There's also an annoying kid named Melvin who gets on everyone else's nerves by pretending to be attacked by the worms for a cheap laugh, then cackling about it. Of course, the one time no one takes Melvin seriously is when he's really in trouble.
Utterly formulaic, "Tremors" makes a great case for formula. Its 90 minutes are neatly divided into a half-hour for establishing the characters and setting (director Ron Underwood nicely sets up the desolate boredom of his scrubby desert terrain), a half-hour for presenting the menace of the monsters, and a half-hour for the thrill-packed resolution, which involves elephant guns, homemade bombs, and a bulldozer.
Throughout, the film keeps you laughing, with Earl and Val's one-liners ("Who died and made you Einstein?"), the Gummers' exaggerated bunker mentality, how various wormy "graboids" are dispatched, and a sly sense of what is expected from a film like this. No real coherent explanation is offered for the graboids' existence, while the dumbness of Val and Earl is a smokescreen for the clever ways the film sets you up to expect one thing before delivering another. Whenever one of them yells "I've got a plan," which is about every other minute, it's a sure thing something is about to go very wrong.
"Tremors" may lack Speilbergian polish, but its got a lot of energy and wit for a film of its kind. It doesn't wallow in gore, but it keeps you nervous enough the first time you watch it. The great thing about "Tremors" is how much you find yourself laughing at the same time.
Think "Jaws" only with dirt. In an isolated Nevada valley, the residents of a tiny roadstop called Perfection discover they are no longer alone. Four giant worms, apparently separated from the set of "Dune," have taken up residence in the ground beneath them and acquired an appetite for human flesh. Standing on their rooftops, their cars and horses gone, the people of Perfection are picked off one by one, as odd-job men Val and Earl find themselves with their oddest job yet.
A lot of things are right with "Tremors," starting with the chemistry of the two leads. Kevin Bacon as Val radiates smug cockiness while Fred Ward as his older partner Earl worries about the future. Early on, we see the pair after working in a junkyard, drinking beers kept cold in a discarded toilet bowl. Disagreements are settled with contests of rock-paper-scissors.
Bacon may have been slumming in a film like this, but he delivers the best performance I've seen from him, enjoyably low-key and funny. Ward is even better in his grizzled grouchy way, fuming whenever his buddy rides him, which is often.
The rest of the small cast (only 17 people appear in the film, and most of them are appetizers) consists largely of no-names, but they are terrific, too. Michael Gross sheds the mellow dad persona TV viewers of the period knew from "Family Ties" as hawkish survivalist Burt Gummer who along with his wife Heather (country star Reba McEntire) finally discovers a use for that well-stocked weapons arsenal in his basement. Gross and McEntire are another great pair, too, and co-star with a giant worm in the film's most thrilling and mind-blowing scene, one of the zaniest thriller sequences ever shot.
There's also an annoying kid named Melvin who gets on everyone else's nerves by pretending to be attacked by the worms for a cheap laugh, then cackling about it. Of course, the one time no one takes Melvin seriously is when he's really in trouble.
Utterly formulaic, "Tremors" makes a great case for formula. Its 90 minutes are neatly divided into a half-hour for establishing the characters and setting (director Ron Underwood nicely sets up the desolate boredom of his scrubby desert terrain), a half-hour for presenting the menace of the monsters, and a half-hour for the thrill-packed resolution, which involves elephant guns, homemade bombs, and a bulldozer.
Throughout, the film keeps you laughing, with Earl and Val's one-liners ("Who died and made you Einstein?"), the Gummers' exaggerated bunker mentality, how various wormy "graboids" are dispatched, and a sly sense of what is expected from a film like this. No real coherent explanation is offered for the graboids' existence, while the dumbness of Val and Earl is a smokescreen for the clever ways the film sets you up to expect one thing before delivering another. Whenever one of them yells "I've got a plan," which is about every other minute, it's a sure thing something is about to go very wrong.
"Tremors" may lack Speilbergian polish, but its got a lot of energy and wit for a film of its kind. It doesn't wallow in gore, but it keeps you nervous enough the first time you watch it. The great thing about "Tremors" is how much you find yourself laughing at the same time.