Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on August 31, 2009, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
The idea of Adam Sandler backing a horror film (under his new Scary Madison banner) needn’t automatically be a negative one; after all, funnyman Mel Brooks’ productions have included the modern classic The Fly, the darkly brilliant The Elephant Man and best-selling zombie author Max Brooks. And, as is revealed on Anchor Bay’s DVD of Scary Madison’s first feature The Shortcut, Sandler—who doesn’t take an onscreen credit—and co. were all about making it an R-rated feature; it was the financiers who came on board during preproduction who insisted it be watered down for youth-audience consumption.
The result is a movie that feels awkwardly caught between competing ambitions. It dances around dark territory without fully committing, putting an equal emphasis on typical screen-teen behavior; people die, but little onscreen blood is shed. (There are any number of action flicks, and even horror films, that share The Shortcut’s PG-13 rating while presenting significantly greater levels of carnage.) Still, on its own younger-skewing terms, The Shortcut is a little smarter and sports a few more eccentricities than many of its similarly pitched competitors.
Heading up the likable cast is Drew Seeley as Derek, a new kid in his high school who has rebelled—to an extent—by quitting the crew team after only a couple of months and hangs out with teen bookie Lisa (Shannon Woodward). His little brother Tobey (Nicholas Elia), meanwhile, is dared by a couple of his peers to take the titular route through some dark woods where a scary and dangerous old man is said to dwell. Tobey gets out with his life, but only after discovering a dog that wasn’t so lucky, which leads Derek, Lisa, Derek’s wise-guy bud Mark (Dave Franco, brother of Pineapple Express’ James Franco), blonde beauty Christy (Katrina Bowden), on whom Derek is crushing, and jock Taylor (Josh Emerson)—whose pooch that might have been—to investigate further. All of these characters and their relationships are colored in with minor but welcome shadings that keep them from falling into clichés, as so often happens in such fare.
Director Nicholaus Goossen and writers Dan Hannon and Scott Sandler intercut the present-day action with flashbacks to decades before, starting with the fate that befalls a couple attending a small-town homecoming dance in 1945 before the guy ships off to fight the Nazis. (Considering most such events take place in the fall, he’d be a little late, since the Germans surrendered in May of that year, but anyway…) These sequences gradually unfold the secrets behind that menacing woods-dweller (Raymond J. Barry), who’s got a large collection of canine IDs and other scary surprises in his house, and if the ultimate revelation can be seen coming before it’s actually sprung, they too provide The Shortcut with a bit of extra interest.
Goossen maintains a decent amount of atmosphere and tension, the latter of which would no doubt have paid off stronger had he been allowed to pursue certain moments to their originally intended, more gruesome ends. On his audio commentary (replacing the originally announced making-of featurette as the disc’s only significant supplement), he reveals a litany of challenges he confronted that inspire surprise that The Shortcut is as slick and together as it is, with a sharp and rich 2.35:1 transfer on the disc. Not only did the money people insist—only a few weeks before shooting began—on pulling the violence’s punches, but the schedule was “slashed by a week,” necessitating the loss of a good deal of character development, and this forest-dependent story was lensed in the “prairie land” of Saskatchewan.
The director, in fact, lets you know the details of practically every location, which gets a bit wearying, but he also reveals that despite his background in humor (including the cult comedy Grandma’s Boy), he has true enthusiasm for horror; one shot is described as his homage to “the old-school poster for The Thing.” And while he doesn’t acknowledge that The Shortcut is something of a feature-length, more mature episode of Scooby-Doo, he does point out that Scoopie Doo, the snack shop where Derek and Mark work, was the real name of the place where those scenes were filmed. Perhaps his most amusing comment is at the very beginning, where he notes that he’s glad you’re listening to his track, since it means “you are probably not watching this on a bit-torrent.” Certainly, The Shortcut is best experienced on the disc, where Goossen’s explanations help temper disappointment with the film’s shortcomings.
