Flak Magazine: Review of The Mothman Prophecies, 2-8-02

Fear gets most of its juice from the moments that precede doom. In those eternal seconds before the knife falls, the gun bangs or the bomb explodes — that's when the body freezes up in dead-silent panic or goes wild with primal screams. To all horror movies and most science fiction films, the fright that comes from imminent catastrophe is lifeblood; without it, the film is a dull, decaying zombie.

The Mothman Prophecies is wrapped in dry, rank burial shrouds. Abusing the principle of creepy anticipation, Mothman plays the moments before disaster for far too long. At first, shadows signal ruin. Suspense builds. Heavenly high camera shots take on the view of a stalking omnipotent eye. Suspense is sustained. The characters glide into the crosshairs of calamity. Suspense starts to subside. The score whispers promises of tragedy — great tragedy! — coming at any time now. Any time now. Any time now.

Suspense flatlines.

It gets worse. When the belated havoc ensues, it's blurred, brief and unfulfilling. The payoff is bungled because Mothman misuses another scary-movie maxim: hide your monster's face. If well executed, slowly revealing the face of evil or merely implying what lurks behind the dark veil is eminently satisfying. Who doesn't recall the spooky thrill of seeing Jason Voorhees for the first time without his hockey mask?

Mothman, however, has a boogieman identity crisis. A cruel monster or a benevolent spirit is haunting or warning Point Pleasant, W. Va. The entity either sees or causes deadly accidents. The people of Point Pleasant dub this strange, apparently mothlike being the Mothman. The Mothman harmlessly stares at some of the town folk; others see him and suffer burns around their eyes. One poor chap freezes to death presumably waiting for the Mothman, or maybe the Mothman kills him. Who knows? Certainly not the filmmakers.

The Mothman's powers seem to be inexplicably lopsided. He can make telephone calls. He can even call an unplugged phone. But he's usually unable to speak up over the static and shock waves. When he does talk, he can play parlor games and answer questions like, "Guess what I'm holding in my hand?" But corner him on his prophecies, and he gets cryptic.

"When will the tragedy strike, Mothman?" On the river Ohio. "That's a where, not a when." On the river Ohio. "Can you be more specific, Mothman? At the school, the church, the chemical factory?" On the river Ohio.

It's mind-boggling. How come an age-old creature — with the gifts of prophecy and speech and the amazing ability to move humans across space and time — can't construct a simple, declarative sentence when it counts? But, then again, why ask why? The Mothman Prophecies is an out-of-pace, insecure film competing in a genre that demands excellent timing and confidence. It exists without rhyme or reason.

— Rasheed Newson (rasheednewson@hotmail.com)