THE EVICTORS (1979)
Directed by Charles B. Pierce
Vestron VHS
Reviewed 08.23.07
Review by Joseph A. Ziemba

THE FILM
Congratulations, Mr. Pierce. You've made muddy footprints on the back porch scary again.

With that, the triptych is complete. Beginning with 1974's untouchable The Legend Of Boggy Creek, continuing with 1976's marred masterwork The Town That Dreaded Sundown, and now, concluding with 1979's The Evictors, director Charles B. Pierce defined the art, nostalgia, and enchantment of the pseudo-documentary horror film. So it's only fitting that Pierce's final genre coup would turn out to be his most elegant. Whereas Boggy Creek will forever be candy-coated with Bigfoot sentimentality and Sundown, though wonderful, is rife with mood killers, The Evictors is all business. There's no novelty. No exploitive hook. No deviation. It's just a magnificent fright film; one which focuses less on real life roots and more on the craft of low budget, regional horror. Within that context, this film is flawless.

Of course, it's essentially a Farmer Slasher with a brief Fat Sheriff cameo. You see? Flawless.

Welcome to Louisiana. In the finest of Shirley Jackson traditions, Ben Watkins (Michael Parks, Mr. The Werewolf Of Woodstock) and wife Ruth (Jessica Harper, Ms. Suspiria) move into an old farm house during the fall of 1942. We know something they don't know. A 1928 sepiatone prologue related the house's unfortunate, eviction-related history -- one that may repeat itself in the Watkins' foreseeable future. First, a hand-scrawled note in the mailbox, which reads, "I want you to move". Next, two more murderific flashbacks. And then, Ben is summoned on a work-related weekend trip. Ruth is left in the house. Alone. Afraid. At risk. Shock, shock, shock. Twist, twist, twist.

We're sailing the same seas as Chuck P's prior hits, but the good ship Evictor is far tighter. The Evictors revolves around dusty antiques; the house, the town residents, the isolated farm fields. Photography captures these elements beautifully, while the actors interpret them with great efficiency. With that foundation in place, the film slips into a confident comfort zone and never looks back. Orchestral swells and creamy synths (courtesy Pierce regular Jaime Mendoza Nava) meet the suspense head on. Bursts of slasher violence arrive at most welcomed moments. The lack of narration, which is usually a Pierce calling card, solidifies the script whammos, rather than anticipating them. The Evictors is every bit as affecting as Boggy Creek and Sundown, but requires zero effort to feel the ice. You never know what's next. You never want it to end. You always --

Wait a minute. Do I hear footsteps out back?

AUDIO AND VIDEO
Evict this! I rarely pine for sparkling DVD releases of ye olde rarities, but in this case, it's a must. The Evictors meets the same VHS fate which befell The Town That Dreaded Sundown; it's stretched, muddy, ghosty, and badly pan 'n' scanned. Pierce's smart compositions and engaging visuals would make best friends with the correct aspect ratio. Hopefully, the fruits of that friendship will turn up in the future, both with this film and Sundown.

EXTRAS
The Vestron logo screen never gets old. Good thing they throw it on there twice.

FINAL THOUGHTS
I WANT YOU TO MOVE. Move fast. Do whatever it takes to track down a copy of The Evictors. In addition to being one of the most fulfilling low budget, "alone in a house" regional rarities you're likely to find, the film tops off Charles Pierce's pseudo-doc legacy with style and consistency. Dim the lights down low, soak it in, and be thankful that you don't live in a farmhouse. If you do live in a farmhouse, Boggy Creek II would be a safer choice. That one may kill you, but at least it won't scare you.

Le peeved


Well, maybe I will.


Splatter farmer


Evic-ciation