"Not Another Horror Movie" Challenges Genre

In a meta-theatrical moment in “Not Another Horror Movie,” Kevin (Joseph F. Tabasco ’15) ran away from his killer, turned to the audience, and seized control of his fate, transforming his character from victim to murderer. “Not Another Horror Movie,” a play directed by Daniel A. Citron ’16, ran through Sunday in the Adams Pool Theatre. The show succeeded as a comedy and also questioned the timeworn horror movie plot—high school students camping in the woods with an axe-murderer on the prowl diverged into an unexpected change of events. The script, written by Citron and Hayden S. Betts ’16, is nuanced and provides an interesting twist on the generic horror story, while the good acting helped alleviate some of the script’s awkwardness.

Kevin is the nerd among a group of six students who embody different high school stereotypes. Along with the nerd, there is a stoner, Trent (Curtis H. Stone ’17); a jock, Greg (Kyle R. Whelihan ’17); a loser, Harriett (Kathryn A. McCawley ’17); a good girl, Alice (Aurelia R. Paquette ’17); and a bad girl, Stacey (Emilie G. C. Thompson ’16). The story follows their school trip into the woods.

Along with the six high school students, there is an ominous and ruthless Killer (Steven Kunis ’17) terrorizing the woods. When Kevin, Harriett, and Kevin’s crush, Alice, stumble upon a dead body, Kevin and Alice flee, leaving Harriett to be the Killer’s first victim. Poised to be the second victim in what is turning into a predictable sequence of murders—one student killed after the other until there is only one left—Kevin makes his mark. Kevin, previously perceived as a nerdy goody-two-shoes, stabs the Killer to death.

This shocking action is a new plot twist to an age-old story. Now, with Kevin as the murderer confronting the remaining students one at a time, the plot sequence takes an unexpected turn. Tabasco’s performance was convincing and his soliloquies, though long-winded and sometimes hard to follow, gave depth to his role and the show. His soliloquies approach meta-theater and emphasize the relatively little control the characters in the show have over their actions. This interplay is at the heart of the show; the writers explore whether the characters are part of a preconceived story or have the ability to affect the events of which they are a part.

This more profound angle compensates for the rest of the show’s sometimes juvenile script. The jokes are immature and trivial, and various attempts of the actors to deliver witty remarks frankly flopped. On the other hand, the actors personified their characters’ stereotypes to the fullest—a strength of both the directing and acting. The characters were entertaining: Greg’s descriptions of his high school athletic glory and Trent’s love of smoking marijuana provided comic relief.

Furthermore, the script portrayed teenage romance in interesting ways throughout the production: Kevin’s obsession with Alice and his unrequited love spurs him to anger and murder, and Greg pursues Stacey—a girl who brags about being an easy conquest—in a shallow manner until her rejection of him reveals she has higher standards than she admits. Ultimately and surprisingly, when Alice turns favorably to Kevin, he has already become a murdering monster, not the good, nerdy boy that he was.

The show explores conventionalism in its structure as a traditional horror story. By altering the standard recipe for a scary movie, the show gives a fresh twist to a classic genre. The actors portraying average high school stereotypes were appealing in their roles. Though the script sometimes falls flat, its monologues illustrate the intellectual aspects in the production. Citron and Betts told a fresh story, the strength of which was in its well-performed characters and its challenge of  a typical horror narrative.