If The Taking of Deborah Logan was just about a sufferer of Alzheimer's disease, it would be scary enough. The illness robs its victims of their minds, and in turn, their humanity. The Taking's plot walks a dangerous line in how sensitively it treats its subject matter, but the experience outside of its horror-premise is authentic enough.
I watched my grandmother deteriorate from Alzheimer's when I was quite young, but certain events still stand out vibrantly in my memory. I recall her talking to herself in the mirror, late at night, unable to realize that it was a one-way conversation. At times, she was coherent and alert. As the disease progressed, these periods of awareness dwindled.
My mother was an emotional wreck. She had now lost two parents to mentally-debilitating illnesses. I can see shades of her experience in the fantastic performance by Anne Ramsay, Deb Logan's daughter. Ramsay has naturally sorrowful eyes, but she exudes more than sadness. She's frustrated; tired of trying to make sense of it all; weary of her mother's inexplicable behavior. She's steeled herself emotionally against the slow, inevitable, and bitter end she knows is just around the corner. Throughout the film she struggles with losing a mother who's already gone but not yet dead.
Jill Larson's performance was gut wrenching in its authenticity. We imagine ourselves as Alzheimer's victims, frightened of what we've become; of what we've lost. But that's just not how it works. Deb Logan isn't frightened, because she's only aware of what she's doing while she's in the driver's seat. When an early-to-mid stage Alzheimer's patient lapses into one of their spells, who's in the driver's seat then?
The Taking's answer is, of course, much more horrific than in reality. It's a horror movie, by the numbers, by the book. Sure, the scares are well-crafted, and there are 30% less annoying jump scares than normal. But when you get down to it, the movie has the same skeleton that most run-of-the-mill horror movies have. What sets The Taking apart from the others is its humanity. Sarah Logan loves her mother and tries desperately to help her however she can. She doesn't understand what's happening but she's damn well going to fight it anyway. This isn't a "love conquers all" story, but love sure makes a valiant effort.
The movie is not without its flaws. It overplays various horror staples like creepy kids or people walking slowly up to a possessed person who's facing a wall. Dude, they're gonna turn around and scream at you or something. Mia Medina's camera crew makes a believable enough vehicle for the "found footage" style the movie's going after, but she doesn't actually have much to do once the plot gets going. Police seem oddly unable to stand in the way of a middle-aged woman, a girl in her 20s, or a camera man. Attics and basements are still bad places to go.
Overall though, Where most horror movies feature characters that couldn't die fast enough, The Taking succeeds because its principle characters are believable, and we actually care about them. That, and I find it eerie that you could cut 5-10 minutes out of the movie - all the expressly supernatural parts - and what's left could easily be a true story.
I watched my grandmother deteriorate from Alzheimer's when I was quite young, but certain events still stand out vibrantly in my memory. I recall her talking to herself in the mirror, late at night, unable to realize that it was a one-way conversation. At times, she was coherent and alert. As the disease progressed, these periods of awareness dwindled.
My mother was an emotional wreck. She had now lost two parents to mentally-debilitating illnesses. I can see shades of her experience in the fantastic performance by Anne Ramsay, Deb Logan's daughter. Ramsay has naturally sorrowful eyes, but she exudes more than sadness. She's frustrated; tired of trying to make sense of it all; weary of her mother's inexplicable behavior. She's steeled herself emotionally against the slow, inevitable, and bitter end she knows is just around the corner. Throughout the film she struggles with losing a mother who's already gone but not yet dead.
Jill Larson's performance was gut wrenching in its authenticity. We imagine ourselves as Alzheimer's victims, frightened of what we've become; of what we've lost. But that's just not how it works. Deb Logan isn't frightened, because she's only aware of what she's doing while she's in the driver's seat. When an early-to-mid stage Alzheimer's patient lapses into one of their spells, who's in the driver's seat then?
The Taking's answer is, of course, much more horrific than in reality. It's a horror movie, by the numbers, by the book. Sure, the scares are well-crafted, and there are 30% less annoying jump scares than normal. But when you get down to it, the movie has the same skeleton that most run-of-the-mill horror movies have. What sets The Taking apart from the others is its humanity. Sarah Logan loves her mother and tries desperately to help her however she can. She doesn't understand what's happening but she's damn well going to fight it anyway. This isn't a "love conquers all" story, but love sure makes a valiant effort.
The movie is not without its flaws. It overplays various horror staples like creepy kids or people walking slowly up to a possessed person who's facing a wall. Dude, they're gonna turn around and scream at you or something. Mia Medina's camera crew makes a believable enough vehicle for the "found footage" style the movie's going after, but she doesn't actually have much to do once the plot gets going. Police seem oddly unable to stand in the way of a middle-aged woman, a girl in her 20s, or a camera man. Attics and basements are still bad places to go.
Overall though, Where most horror movies feature characters that couldn't die fast enough, The Taking succeeds because its principle characters are believable, and we actually care about them. That, and I find it eerie that you could cut 5-10 minutes out of the movie - all the expressly supernatural parts - and what's left could easily be a true story.