**/**** Image B+ Sound B Extras C-
starring Corey Sevier, Stefanie Von Pfetten, Meghan Ory, Kim Poirier
screenplay by Matt Hastings & Tom Berry
directed by Matt Hastings
by Travis Mackenzie Hoover Faithful watchers of Canadian film held their collective breath when it was announced recently that the major funding bodies would no longer be supporting arthouse fare. Instead of nurturing the next Atom Egoyan, the country would shepherd in Hollywood-esque fare like Foolproof (ironically co-produced by Atom Egoyan), hoping for an increase in ticket sales and perhaps a rejoinder to those critics who attack our cinema for being a ruthless killjoy. The question remained: would a simple shift in mode rid us of the tag of funbusters? In the case of the recent, terrible Decoys, the answer is: not bloody likely. Despite its dedicated efforts at reproducing American-style mindlessness, it rings all of the Canadian bells about sexual disgust, aversion to pleasure, and fear of decisive action that have bedevilled our country's cinema from the very beginning. That it's awful on its own terms is beside the point: it's how it's awful that's most instructive.
The film imagines itself as a sort of misogynist riposte to the Ginger Snaps saga–instead of exploring the travails of a sexually activate female monster, it unleashes a slew of them on unsuspecting student virgins. Chief amongst these college-boy targets is Luke Callahan (Corey Sevier), who knows that something is wrong when he espies two comely female co-eds (Stefanie von Pfetten and Kim Poirier) erupting tentacles and spraying one another with liquid nitrogen. His suspicions of foul play are confirmed once young men start turning up frozen from the inside out; clearly this is a case of alien invasion, with hotties from beyond the stars plotting to do something reproductive with the horny boys on Planet Canada. But Luke's story is so outlandish that no one believes him, and the authorities even peg him as the perpetrator of these icy murders.
One can see how the high-concept pitch might've looked like an American-style winner. Surely this was an excuse to indulge in some ludicrously attractive women and kinky horror violence and thus cackle with glee all the way to the bank? But our industry has been labouring under Canadian assumptions for so long that the filmmakers fail to recognize that a good pop film is about gratification. Built into their concept is the idea that anyone who attempts to have sex is either a monster out for murder or a helpless victim about to die; nobody gets it on and gets out clean, repeating years of Canadian cynicism towards the carnal act. This also reflects Canada's cowardly avoidance of personal agency: Once again, anyone who tries to improve their sexual lot winds up a popsicle, while anyone who succeeds in a plan is a monster who's in it for the kill. Coitus interruptus is the order of the day, making for a hugely frustrating viewing experience.
Of course, it could be argued that Decoys is lousy for reasons that go beyond its irritating Canadianisms. One is inevitably confronted by its thoroughgoing hatred of women, by which almost every female character is a vagina dentata waiting to strike; there's also the annoying (if predictable) stereotyping of the characters, and direction by Matt Hastings that can only be described as style-challenged. The film, in fact, is outclassed in every way by the aforementioned Ginger Snaps, which was not only kind to women but also had a little residual wit to match. But alas, both Decoys and Ginger Snaps ape pop forms only to withdraw from their basic purpose: to make people feel good. Each picture slaps either guilt or frustration onto their heroes, looking upon sexual and emotional release with suspicion–they lack the nerve to take a stand for pleasure, and in so doing dishonour their audiences. The new funding rules will mean nothing for our cinema until Canadian directors see something else in fun beyond a world of hurt–which in art or pop is pretty much what we've had all along.
Lions Gate/Christal Films' DVD presentation of Decoys is neither here nor there. The 1.85:1 anamorphic image has its qualities: detail is remarkably sharp and colours are highly saturated without bleeding. Still, there's a grain problem throughout that gives the film a patina of cheapness. Meanwhile, although the hugely unimaginative Dolby Digital 5.1 audio track registers with smooth clarity, its lack of surround elements fails to justify more than a 2.0 mix.
Extras begin with a 22-minute making-of featurette apparently produced for Canada's Space Channel. It's the usual infotainment slop, light on actual production information and heavy on back-patting, though some of the cast members' elaborations on their characters show how sadly Decoys wastes them. Next come six deleted (technically extended) scenes, wisely omitted except for a character introduction that's wittier than anything in the final cut. But this is mere icing on the cake, for next comes an unforgivable twenty-seven minutes of bloopers–and instead of the usual blips of screw-ups, they play as long and drawn-out as the film itself. Decoys' trailer rounds out the package.
99 minutes; R; 1.85:1 (16×9-enhanced); English DD 5.1; CC; DVD-5; Region One; Lions Gate
