The first thing to know about Poltergeist is that it’s a Steven Spielberg movie. It might have been Tobe Hooper’s directorial credit and I’m sure the film benefited from his history of horror schlock, but Spielberg’s fingerprints are all over this movie. He came up with the story, he co-wrote the screenplay, he produced the film with longtime colleagues Frank Marshall and Kathleen Kennedy, and the film was edited by Michael Kahn, who’s cut nearly all of Spielberg’s movies. However, the clearest sign of Spielberg’s influence is in how this film utilizes horror.
By their very nature, horror movies depend on the threat of imminent death. It must be clearly possible — if not inevitable — that someone in a horror movie dies gruesomely. That threat is never present here. The special effects, creepy imagery and frantic score may give the illusion of trouble, but never once did I believe that there was any real danger. The monsters in this movie are all bark with no bite and — with one notable exception that turns out to be a hallucination — the dangers never so much as threaten to spill blood. Sure, our characters can be sucked into some interdimensional portal, covered in harmless pink slime and confronted with corpses that rise up only to stay dead, but God forbid any of them should bleed or die. That’s right: Every single character in this movie makes it out alive.
I find this even more perplexing upon recollection that this movie has “bait characters.” We’ve got pervert construction workers, a sleazebag real estate boss, a couple of incompetent paranormal investigators and a stereotypical teenage girl who contributes absolutely nothing to the plot. In any other horror movie, they’d be lambs for the slaughter. In Poltergeist, they’re just cheap one-dimensional characters. Hell, the real estate crook was partly responsible for this whole mess and he doesn’t get any comeuppance whatsoever!
But maybe I’m going about this all wrong. Maybe Spielberg was trying to make a horror movie without any spilled bodily fluids or grievous harm. I’m not sure why anyone would do that, especially since all the foul language in this film suggests that it wasn’t made for kids, but let’s assume for the sake of argument that Spielberg was trying to make a “family” horror film. On these terms, it’s not so bad. The jump scares are good, the effects are solid and there’s a lot of refreshingly creative imagery here. The kitchen chairs made for a nice gag and JoBeth Williams’ flailing around the ceiling was a clever way to give the impression of physical violence without any danger of actual physical violence. Of course, this is the big one. There are precious few things more unsettling than an eerie kid, and Heather O’Rourke is really damn creepy in this film. What’s more, her scenes with the TV static are lit entirely by white flashing light, which looks really freaky. The screenplay is hardly subtle (a canary dies at the start of the movie, for Christ’s sake), but the setups in the first act — like the clown, for example — are quite effective when they pay off.
Still, I consider this movie far more interesting for its comedy than for its horror. My favorite example is the scene in which three paranormal investigators who are hopelessly out of their depth sit down for coffee with the Freeling family. (“The determination is to whether your home is haunted is not very easy.” *the coffee pot spontaneously moves across the table*). There are several little scenes of light humor peppered throughout the movie, as if Spielberg was actively trying to keep the movie from getting too dark, and the jokes do work very well.
The problem, unfortunately, is that not enough effort is made to effectively blend the comedy and horror. Objects that move by themselves are the vehicles for several jokes, but it’s like the movie is very solidly divided between “humor” scenes and “horror” scenes. The film’s climax is loaded with some crazy fucked-up imagery and there are long stretches when characters are spouting paranormal mumbo-jumbo at great length (kudos to the late Zelda Rubinstein, who effortlessly does this for several minutes straight and often within a single take). These are the times in which comedy relief is most needed, yet there is none. This makes for a movie that seems very tonally confused. By contrast, Ghostbusters — released two years later — had several great moments of comedy, especially during scenes of supernatural horror (“When someone asks if you’re a God…”).
Ah, but I haven’t yet talked about the family. They’re the core of this movie, after all, and horror stories are wholly dependent on how sympathetic their protagonists are. Unfortunately, I found them to be kinda hit-and-miss. The two youngest kids — Robbie and Carol-Anne — are quite good, but Dana the teenage daughter was completely useless and quite annoying at times. Steve and Diane are very sympathetic through most of the movie, though they don’t exactly make good first impressions. Too often in the first act, they’re seen smoking weed or conking out in front of the TV. Fortunately, JoBeth Williams and Craig T. Nelson make for very sympathetic parents. They’re only really effective when they’re doting on the kids, which is fortunate because that’s what they’re doing for most of the movie.
On the whole, I’m really not sure what to make of Poltergeist. It’s too frightening to be a comedy, but too light to be a horror film. It’s got too much swearing to be a family movie, but not enough grit to be for adults. This film was made before the PG-13 rating, back when films were either an R or a PG, and it shows. Perhaps the film would’ve been made with a more solid direction if they had a PG-13 rating to shoot for.
Having said that, there’s still no doubt that this film is worth seeing, if only on a technical level. The visuals are wonderful, the score is effective and its influences on subsequent horror films are readily apparent. Those behind Paranormal Activity, in particular, owe Spielberg a thank-you note. Still, if I ever have to choose or recommend a horror/comedy, I’d much rather stick with Ghostbusters.