Gag rule

One of the most hotly discussed new horror films is one almost nobody has seen... Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza's [REC] (2007), about a TV news crew who happen to be on the scene when a fire crew responds to a 911 call about a woman trapped in her apartment in an inner city high rise and all the terrible things that happen as a result, all of which wind up recorded by the cameraman. The film has already inspired an English language remake called QUARANTINE (2008), shot in and around Los Angeles. In my arrangements to obtain an impossible-to-obtain copy, this note came in over the transom from a filmmaker friend:

I am afraid for you to see it -- mainly because if you blog about it, it then starts to diffuse the near perfect experience of watching it. The less you know about this film the better. Sure, it works off the exact premise of BLAIR WITCH - whatever. But if there are movies like this that can work off of same production ideas and succeed this well -- I'm all for it because I was shitting myself throughout.

But I fear for the film once it gets into your hands. I would beg -- BEG you not to give frame grabs or synopsis or criticism. BEG you. Endorsement? Yes. Anything else, I fear would flatten the impact this puppy delivers into genre formula comparisons. Please don't. I know you could compare it to DIARY OF THE DEAD CLOVERFIELD and BW -- blah blah blah -- I'm sure that's what's been done already and I've just been very lucky not to have read those articles. But I think people should see this fucker as cold as possible.

I'll admit my friend's entreaty did get my back up, if only for about three seconds. Ultimately, the passion of his urgings won out and I will keep mum about [REC] until it is more widely seen. When was the last time someone you trusted really went to bat for a new horror film? I think the rarity of this happening has softened my hard heart... but I've also never been one of those critics dashing to be the first one in with a review of a hot new movie. Early reviews are too often either deadline fodder or mash notes written by cub critics with their lips clamped ingratiatingly around the filmmaker's genitals - in either case, useless. Oh, and I could name names. But I won't. Because I'm circumspect. Well... I am now.