Franchise Expansion (or Implosion) is a column that looks at franchises that have new installments or releases forthcoming. In looking at a franchise, each entry in a franchise will be given a review and then be examined as part of the bigger franchise. (i.e., Was this sequel a worthy expansion of this franchise or was it an implosion of sorts?)
Horror franchises are notorious for losing their edge once enough sequels are produced. This quality is especially true for the horror series of the 1980s, many of which went from being horror to flat-out comedies by the conclusions of their respective runs. However, going from screams to laughter was never the true intention. That is, with one true exception –– The Evil Dead franchise has not only mixed horror and comedy, but it’s also vacillated between these genres more skillfully and with the same creative team involved on some level. Moreover, this franchise has also played with timelines, so I’m jumping back to where it all started with the original Evil Dead (1981)!
As a genre, horror and its “cabin in the woods” offshoot have always worked well. It’s a perfect location for any dreadful story to unfold. But the subgenre has never worked better than in The Evil Dead (1981), which makes it the definitive film in its class — although many folks would understandably argue that its requel, Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn (1987) lays claim to that throne. But more on that next time. Hell, The Evil Dead is probably why this particular horror subgenre springs eternal. The Evil Dead works so well as a cabin in the woods flick that I think about the locale itself before the demons that are unleashed upon it.
Like most horror cult films-turned-full-bore classics, The Evil Dead had the most humble beginnings from young people who needed a creative outlet. As a teenager in Detroit, Michigan, Sam Raimi was given a Super 8mm film camera and began making short films with his brothers. Most were slapstick comedies in the vein of The Three Stooges shorts (1960-1972). Soon enough, a close friend of the Raimi Brothers, Bruce Campbell (My Southern Family Christmas), got in on the act. As did fellow local Ellen Sandweiss (Speedbag). By the late 70s, the crew had over ten short films under their belt. One of which, It’s Murder! (1977), is nearly a feature-length film, clocking in at 70 minutes.
But it wasn’t until this band of indie filmmakers got to college that they made the short that would open the door to their filmmaking futures. Within the Woods (1978), which would spawn The Evil Dead, was nothing more than a class assignment. This notorious short film follows a group of four college students who go to a cabin in the woods for a weekend getaway that quickly goes awry. Two of the main characters were played by Campbell and Sandweiss, both as characters who share their real first names.When “Bruce” stumbles upon an ancient Native American dagger, he soon becomes possessed by malevolent spirits, which cause him to kill his friends as the cabin becomes a living hell.
Of the dozens of home video releases The Evil Dead has received over the years, Within the Woods has never been included in its entirety on any of them. The closest the short has ever come to an official release is having some footage included as a special feature on the 2002 Anchor Bay The Evil Dead: Book of the Dead Limited Edition DVD. The reason Within the Woods has never officially been released: for whatever reason, Raimi has suppressed the film. However, it can be found online, which is how I watched it — though I must insist that you dig that up yourself. Raimi has never explicitly stated why he doesn’t want Within the Woods released. While impressive for being produced on just a $1,600 budget, it is still low quality and, in my humble estimation, a bit boring. But in all fairness, regarding the quality or lack thereof, Within the Woods isn’t helped by only having unofficial releases floating around the internet.
Still, there’s no denying that Within the Woods achieved what it set out to do and goes far beyond being a passing class assignment. It served as the inspiration for Raimi and company to finally set their sights on making a feature. Now, like many legendary filmmakers who made their bones in horror, Raimi wasn’t overly fond of the genre (as evidenced by the sequels in this franchise, I’ll cover down the line). Nevertheless, he knew that Within the Woods had enough meat on its bones to be expanded. Equally as important, though, is that the short film could be utilized as a proof of concept to raise money to make that feature version.
With this new ambition, Raimi immediately started writing what was then titled The Book of the Dead. At a scant 65 pages in length, the script for The Book of the Dead does not actually qualify as a feature-length screenplay. But, as with most page-to-screen translations, a finished film will generally be longer than its screenplay, as is the case here. Once The Book of the Dead was on the page, the writer/director immediately recruited Campbell and Sandweiss to co-star in the picture. Such a feat was relatively easy, considering the crew’s collaborative history.
Along with his leading man, Campbell, and Within the Woods’ producer Robert Tappert (Darkman), Raimi set out armed with a screenplay and a proof of concept to attract potential investors. One of these investors was a lawyer Raimi’s father supposedly contacted to talk his son out of making a feature film. If true, that’s a wonderful twist of irony. Within the Woods was produced for a mere $1,600 and was shot on 8MM film at Tappert’s family farm. In the end, though, the short served as a demo reel, which raised around $375,000 towards the production budget of The Evil Dead.
All of these funds were contributed by local investors in Michigan, most of whom were dentists and lawyers. That’s pretty impressive since $375k was the final reported production, and the rumored final budget was closer to $411,000. That latter total was undoubtedly a result of finishing funds supplied by Raimi, Tappert, and Campbell (who also serves as an executive producer) throughout the production. When trying to drum up interest in the film, Rami, Tappert, and Campbell met with a local movie theater owner who advised them, “Fellas, no matter what you do, keep the blood running down the screen.” Hence, a scene that did precisely that was included near the end of the movie.
Script done and budget secured, Rami, Tapert, and Campbell formed a production company, Renaissance Pictures, so that they could go off and finally make their flick! Of course, before they could go into production, the modest crew added a few cast members to fill the roles of the remaining cabin dwellers. Now, whether all these actors knew they would double as actual crew members performing various jobs is unknown, but it was genuinely embraced by the ensemble as they all ended up working multiple jobs during production.
Together, the crew of 13 people, some of whom presumably piled into Raimi’s trademark Delta ’88, ventured off to a cabin in the woods in Morristown, Tennessee. As part of the lease agreement, the production was required to agree with the property’s landlord that any modifications made to the cabin must be reverted upon the production’s conclusion. Like most independent films, what was then called The Book of the Dead was filmed on weekends between 1979 and the winter of 1980. This extended and intermittent production was made to feel longer for the cast and crew since most of the movie takes place at night. While this little flick would go on to become a genre staple, the cabin at which the production took place would, sadly, not last as long.
Unsurprisingly, the cast and crew found these night shoots arduous and even torturous. These feelings were particularly true for Campbell, whom Raimi is admittedly fond of putting through the wringer as a leading man. Then, of course, there was Sandweiss, who plays Ash’s girlfriend, Cheryl. She, of course, had to undergo shooting the infamous tree scene. This setpiece was understandably difficult for Sandweiss, who found it quite a brutal experience. It was also a scene that the writer/director recently stated he regrets having included in the film.
In the end, though, the long nights, scratches, bruises, and blood paid off as The Book of the Dead finally reached the post-production stage. It was at this time that Rami brought in his buddy, one half of The Coen Brothers, Joel Coen (The Tragedy of Macbeth), into the process. As a result, Joel served as an uncredited assistant editor, thus making The Evil Dead one of his earliest jobs in the film industry. Interestingly, by the time Evil Dead II rolled around, The Coen Brothers and Raimi would be roommates.
Upon completion of The Book of the Dead, Raimi and company set to the equally tricky task of finding distribution for their movie.
As with most independent pictures of the time, the idea was to “four-wall” The Book of the Dead. Four-walling is when prints of a film are distributed regionally to theaters and drive-ins for a year or more. This tried-and-true distribution model received a considerable boost when the film attracted the attention of Irvin Shapiro (1906-1989). He had a seasoned career as a notable indie film rep and was a large part of helping George A. Romero (1940-2017) get his debut feature, Night of the Living Dead (1968), widely distributed. While he became an uncredited producer on the movie in review, Shapiro was essential to this film’s success.
Shapiro was worried that the original title, The Book of the Dead, was too dull and would fail to attract an audience. Thus, it was changed to The Evil Dead at the industry veteran’s insistence. Despite Shapiro’s objection to the film’s original title, though, he was a true booster of the picture itself. Being one of the founders of The Cannes Film Festival, Shapiro got the film to screen out of competition at Cannes in 1982. It was at this fateful event that the world’s most renowned horror author, Stephen King (Holly), saw The Evil Dead and called it “the most ferociously original film of the year.” But before that big debut in France, the filmmakers kept it local and held the premiere at The Radford Theater in Detroit, Michigan, on October 15th, 1981.
Since that small regional premiere and its international screening at Cannes, The Evil Dead expanded to drive-ins and grindhouse theaters. As the film ran through these theatrical circuits, it became a cult classic. But it became hit when it joined its 1987 sequel on video store shelves thanks to New Line Cinema, who acquired the VHS rights to the original film and was able to get it more widely distributed.
Once New Line’s window to the home video rights ran out, they were picked by the legendary (albeit now defunct) genre home video label Anchor Bay Entertainment. During that time, Anchor Bay premiered The Evil Dead on DVD. After which, they released it time and time again. Many of these releases are now sought after by collectors as each release has had at least some changes in cover art and special features. Rest assured, this frustrating tradition continues each time the home video rights to the film change hands and receives another release. The first time I saw The Evil Dead was via the 2002 THX Edition Anchor Bay release. As I sat there in the middle of the night in my grandmother’s living room, I truly discovered this movie and got sucked into it.
The Evil Dead follows a group of five college kids who take a weekend away at a cabin in the woods. Although the cabin is a little more desolate than expected, they can, no doubt, have a good time. However, the quiet camaraderie of the cabin is soon broken when the friends get bored and start digging around the place they’ve rented for the weekend. Before they know it, they’re reading from an ancient tome known as The Necronomicon (the formally titular Book of the Dead) and listening to a reel-to-reel tape recording accompanying the text. Little do they know that by engaging with these items, they have unleashed demons set on possessing them all!
Yup, The Evil Dead is just that simple. It’s almost as simplistic a movie as any of the slasher flicks that would rule the 1980s. See, the grotesque beauty of The Evil Dead is that its independent charm also lies within its simplicity. Like the best indie filmmakers, Raimi and company had limited resources, so they innovated in many ways. The camera work, the gore, and the claymation-style effects are shoestring magic, but there’s another innovation a lot of folks recognize. Unlike The Exorcist (1973), which would essentially create the demonic possession subgenre, The Evil Dead is fun even though it is the only serious entry in Raimi’s trilogy. Whereas the two sequels veer much more into comedic territory that I don’t care for as much, this original film strikes the perfect balance of true horror and a sense of exciting fun that runs underneath it all.
This balance comes from the fact that the cast and crew were putting hard work into making the picture and having at least some fun in the process. Although, it’s been well-documented that most of the fun was had by the filmmakers instead of the cast themselves. In any event, you can’t tell who is having a rough time because it’s clear that everyone involved in making this film put everything they had into it. This effort is what undoubtedly enhances The Evil Dead and makes it feel tangible. When I watch it, I feel like I’m in the cabin and can almost smell the carnage.
By extension, the film’s tone and palpable nature are why the characters in this original entry feel real. In the sequels that follow, the characters are purposefully and understandably exaggerated. Not to the point of being caricatures, mind you, but they still don’t feel like real people. Such is particularly true of Ash (or, as he’s more commonly referred to in this film, Ashley) Williams — but more on that later. In this original film, Campbell plays Ash like a real, regular guy, even if he’s a bit of a dolt at times. I know it’s not a popular opinion, but I like this version of Ash almost as much as what will come to follow.
If there’s one criticism I would level at The Evil Dead, it would be an occasional slowness despite its scant 85-minute runtime. For this reason, many younger horror fans have trouble buying into it. Although, I have heard some of them cite the silliness of the effects — hey, that’s part of the charm! Other than that, The Evil Dead is a wholly original and damn near-perfect horror picture!
For a group of filmmakers who weren’t overly fond of the genre, you would never know that was the case. As I said at the beginning of this review, The Evil Dead created the cabin in the woods horror subgenre. As such, The Evil Dead (1981) is the most innovative of Franchise Expansions! Moreover, because of when it was made and released, the film rides a rare line of feeling both a part of 1970s and ’80s horror. No matter which decade you think it fits into (I go ’70s myself), this movie is one of the most unique genre pieces of both bygone eras. And in the sequels, we’ll see Raimi and crew continue to take this franchise in innovative directions. Not the least of which includes producing the first “requel.”
The Evil Dead (1981) is available on 4K Digital HD Streaming, 4K UHD, Blu-ray & DVD.
Next time, I’ll return to the cabin for Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn (1987)!
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