Happy Death Day

Directed By: Christopher B. LandonWritten By: Scott LobdellStarring: Jessica Rothe, Israel Broussard, Rachel Matthews, Ruby Modine

One could hardly imagine a more

benevolent slasher film than Happy Death Day. There’s very little slashing for one, hardly a skerrick of blood to be found on its canvas. In fact, our protagonist and sole victim can’t even be killed, not for good anyway. And the story is more concerned with edgy teen humour, coming of age epiphanies and fluffy college romance than it is with body counts or butcherings.

This approach isn’t necessarily a bad thing though. In fact, it’s one of the principle allures of Happy Death Day, a film whose mere title serves as a confession of absurdity and whose mechanics are assuredly light, up-tempo, and free of cynicism. It’s more a teen comedy with a whodunit inflection and a few horror tropes sprinkled on top than it is an out and out slasher, and with that there’s nothing wrong.

The film has been quite rightly summarised  by every viewer and critic alike as Groundhog Day meets Scream. Tree Gelbman (Jessica Rothe) is our stuck-up-sorority-girl-cum-heroine who we meet, on her birthday, upon her waking in a stranger’s dorm room. That stranger is the nerdy, heart-of-gold Carter (Israel Broussard), whose attempts at kindness are batted away like flies by his curt guest. Also upon awakening, Tree dismisses a phone call from her father, downs some drugs for her head pain, dresses herself, and embarks on the dreaded walk of shame.

Director Christopher B. Landon is sure to highlight the various beats of Tree’s day, both the big and the small—they’ll be needed later for purposes of both comedy and clarification. There’s the water sprinklers which dowse a pair sitting on the college lawn; the smiley young lady attempting to collect signatures; the handsome but desperate young man who took Tree on a date to Subway once and has since pestered her for a follow up—“it’s not like you have a foot-long” Tree emasculates; the equally stuck-up sorority head honcho Danielle (Rachel Matthews) who presses Tree for gossip following her late night out before boasting about the high number of guys who no doubt masturbate to her daily (apparently that’s why girls experience déjà vu); Tree’s kindly roommate who bakes her a single birthday cupcake before the treat is binned along with any other friendly gestures courtesy of Tree’s rommie; the professor that Tree rendezvouses with mid-afternoon and his wife who almost catches them in the act; and the frat party that Tree prepares for in the evening.

The up-shot is that any number of people would be justified in topping Tree; heck, part of us wouldn’t mind seeing it ourselves. And that’s exactly what happens, in the final moments of Tree’s birthday she’s fatally attacked by a mask-clad, knife wielding killer. But Tree’s death isn’t the end for her, but rather another beginning. She is rewound to the start of her birthday, where she relives those same events and is killed once more at its conclusion. Only to awake again on that same day—over and over. It seems the only way for Tree to advance past this fateful day is to use her myriad opportunities to uncover her killer’s identity, and stop them before they stop her.

The pitch is as silly, as it is appetising, as it is familiar. The Groundhog Day gimmick is well worn by now– seen everywhere from 2010’s Repeaters, to 2014’s Edge of Tomorrow, to this year’s Before I Fall– whilst the mask-clad, knife wielding gimmick, conversely, is a slasher movie perquisite, and one that the film approaches with that same knowing, reflexive demeanour that made Scream so enticing. That familiarity and silliness place a ceiling over Happy Death Day, but director Christopher B. Landon knows how to work within the story’s confines, never taking himself too seriously and forever conscious of over-estimating the narrative’s dramatic capacity.

Happy Death Day ticks the required horror boxes to be sure: the aforementioned archetypal killer, intermittent bouts of jump scares, promiscuous teens ripe for the killing. Naturally, a chunk of the tension is cancelled by the fact that the murders are, by function of the plot, without consequence (Tree we know will just start the day over), plus Landon only instils in his horror the cursory amount of dread. Horror isn’t the end game though. The true preoccupation of the director’s powers is generating a devil-may-care, infectious spirit, capitalising on the ample opportunity for humour that the premise permits and wringing as much breezy, tongue-in-cheek entertainment from it as possible. The film even goes as far as directly acknowledging its borrowed plot device, tipping its hat to its Harold Ramis antecedent in the form a knowing, late gag.

Landon gleefully revels in the comedic potential of Tree being one step ahead of those she encounters in her day, and revels even more so in being able to pick off his protagonist at the end of it all with increasing levels of slapstick—before we know it buses, bongs and fountains are being used as murder weapons.

The film does occasionally undermine itself. A more severe tone might have granted the inherently repetitive death scenes a heightened excitement, whilst the film’s obligatory strays into saccharine “be the best you/today is the first day of the rest of your life” teenage fluff (Tree’s time-loop, in addition to granting her the necessary opportunity to solve her murder, also allows for a great deal of introspection and contemplation regarding her bitchiness), signals hardly the most adventurous use of the central conceit. When Bill Murray was trapped in the same 24-hour block, he used it to consider the seeming pointlessness of life and entered an existential crisis, and he didn’t have a murderous maniac on his tail. But the director’s giddy, high energy tone keeps the story light on its feet and its audience engaged. It’s an effortless watch, teeming with sass and urgency, bolstered by Scott Lodbell’s lean, quasi mean screenplay which finds just enough time to pack in a couple of absurd, if nicely surprising, curveballs.

In the lead role, Jessica Rothe is tasked with the bulk of that high-energy and comedy, rising to the occasion with the assuredness of a ten-year veteran. There’s nothing subtle about the character of Tree, but Rothe straddles a tight-rope with her performance: funny, tough, bitchy and grating at one stage, bad-ass and cheery-worthy moments later, always brimming with vigour. Matthews and Broussard lend solid supporting hands, plunging cartoony, Regina George levels of mean girl smarminess, and offering a semblance of low-key charm respectively.

The end result is an optimistic slasher best used as a gateway horror for teenagers looking to spruce up their slumber parties; a precursor for the real fun (for that, turn to the classics: Hooper, Craven, Carpenter). Eleven times Tree experiences her horror birthday, we needn’t live through it more than once. But for a 90 minute fusion of slasher tropes and light-hearted teenage fare, you could say that Happy Death Day comes close to having its birthday cake and eating it too.

Rating:

2.75/4