The day the Hollywood Video finally opened its doors was a notable one in the small town where I grew up.
Over the months leading up to its grand opening, my friends and I had watched the store come together. But it was only when they had put the final touches on the jagged, purple mountains and those iconic, Hollywood letters that our curiosity transitioned to excitement.
“WORLD CLASS SELECTION!” a small, white sign announced in the window, placed off center and somewhat haphazardly beside a “NOW HIRING” notice. Selection. The Family Video which we had known and loved for most of our lives offered plenty of new releases and a handful of older titles, but world class?
Movies were becoming a bigger and bigger part of my adolescent life. The video store was a place of discovery. A place where anything could happen. And, now, we were getting a new one. A bigger one. A better one. Of course, that’s not to say our Family Video was bad, but how could they possibly compete with Hollywood?
Opening day arrived and the doors opened. My friends and I were there, just like everyone else in town. Aisle after aisle awaited us, section after section. Unlike the Family Video, this store had sub-genre selection. Instead of “DRAMA”, there was “ROMANCE” and “THRILLER” and even an area marked “TEAR-JERKERS”. I was amazed. As I stumbled through the stacks, I paused, eyeing a sign written in jagged letters of varying bright and vibrant colors. It read simply:
CULT
My first thought was that the section contained films about creepy collectives of brainwashed people, but the literal interpretation of the word proved to be incorrect when I lowered my eyes to the titles planted on the shelves below. Some were on DVD, some VHS. I saw strange images: A small skull emerging from a mouth as someone pulled their lips apart to reveal it, a mutated monster brandishing a mop who I recognized from an old cartoon show I had seen once or twice, a strange pair of eyes peering out from within a wicker basket… and an impossibly muscular man, his shirt torn, wielding a chainsaw, his right foot perched on a tire under the red lettered heading: ARMY OF DARKNESS (1992).
I didn’t rent anything from CULT that day, but those covers stayed with me. Particularly the smarmy hero next to the tagline “Trapped in time. Surrounded by evil. Low on gas.” Having been raised on a steady diet of 3 Stooges, Monty Python and Mel Brooks, I immediately understood the sense of tone and silliness the film was projecting, and yet, there it sat, beside so many titles that looked nothing if not unsettling. Put simply, the section baffled me.
Years later, when I found my way to horror, I picked up Evil Dead (1981) and its sequel– falling in love with the mix of disturbing, comical and overtly manic stylistic choices that were so unique to its aesthetic and world. And it was after that, that I finally discovered the link to that strange, eye-catching VHS tape I saw in Hollywood Video on its opening day. Army of Darkness, as it turned out, was Evil Dead 3. It was then, in that moment of illumination that I finally understood the word that adorned that collection of oddities.
CULT
The sorts of films that beget reverence from those who appreciate them. Adoration. Belief. Misunderstood by a world that doesn’t understand. Those who aren’t in on it. That is not to say any single person is excluded from these movies, simply that the specificity of their proclivities speaks to a niche that often requires context or, at the very least, innate personal interest to pursue, accept and, again, revere.
I returned to that CULT section eventually and made my way through their selection. But I began with Army of Darkness. And when I finally did watch it, I found a marriage of humor, fantasy and horror that was distinctly at home in the Evil Dead series while being something entirely different than what had come before it. As Ash’s sanity had been sapped by the horrors which he had lived through, so had the horror itself. The practicality and zaniness which made the previous instalments so strong took center stage and Bruce Campbell channeled everything from the 3 Stooges to Looney Tunes to bring it to life.
However, when I think of the word CULT and my discovery in the video store that day, the scene that jumps to mind is that where Ash is confronted with a marauding group of tiny clones. Hellbent on destroying their giant counterpart, the scene is simultaneously a celebration of impressive practical effects, frenzied performance and filmmaking gone berserk exemplifying exactly why it is many of those who appreciate the film don’t just love it- they revere it.
Sam and Ivan Raimi’s script is as straight forward as it was for the previous Evil Dead films with little scripted dialogue. The action is laid out plainly, the comedy and reactions being left largely to the broadness of performance, allowing for organic reactions and for Bruce Campbell to find the humor and responses most appropriate in the moment. All in all, it amounts to a perfectly rendered vision which bonds buffoonery, terror and goofy eccentricity, distilling the very essence of what the sub-genre CULT represents… and why those old video stores were so important in the first place.
THE SCENE
Ash runs at a mirror and shatters it, attempting to stop his clone from emerging. Instead, tiny clones emerge from the shattered pieces. The tiny Ashes ram him with a fork. He hits his head and throws the fork at one of the tiny Ashes, impaling him. Ash trips again, hitting his head and landing on a burning grill. He scrapes his face off the grill’s surface and attempts to step on one of the tiny Ashes who holds up a nail, impaling his foot. Ash falls and passes out. When he awakens he is bound and can’t move. The tiny Ashes hold his nose, forcing him to open his mouth, allowing a Tiny Ash to dive in. In response, Ash drinks hot water to boil the invader in his own stomach. The plan works, but not before something begins to grow out of his shoulder… an eye.
THE SCRIPT
Please note, this is taken from the shooting script and so will be formatted and worded towards the requirements of production.
THE SCREEN
We open on a close up of Ash’s weathered face, having just escaped the invisible evil which has plagued him throughout the franchise. The moment is a quiet one, as we watch him warm his hands against a fire in a close up. In a flash of a shot, he notices another version of himself. He jumps up and rams the double, crashing into a mirror and shattering it to pieces.
ASH races through the door and toward CAMERA when…SMASH…Ash’s reflection shatters. He’s run into a mirror.
Adding a sense of calm before the moment of adrenaline provides the film with a greater sense of tenseness; a seriousness which juxtaposes well against the insanity of the scene to follow. The camera angles fluctuate between high and low, occupying odd or impossible places (such as inside the floorboard as a piece of mirror drops from Ash’s hand) conveying a constantly engaging visual style.
CAMERA PANS TO…
THE SHATTERED MIRROR PIECES
Each piece of mirror reflects an image of Ash. From the eight pieces of mirror spring…
EIGHT TINY ASHES
The emboldened text adds an emphasis which leaps off the page and, in tandem, the screen. It’s easy to imagine what is occupying the frame, despite the simplicity of the language. The only additional description that the screenplay provides is Two inch high versions of himself.
The small clones scurry about behind their primary who remains unaware of them as he kneels close to the fire. The tiny Ashs giggle uncontrollably as they do so, madly going about their work in cartoonish glee. While their mannerisms and utterances do not appear in the script, the simple language does not preclude something of this nature from being present in the scene. The uncomplicated nature of the words allows for imagination, performance and visual style to land their execution.
This idea holds true for the remainder of the scene, as little to no dialogue or verbal reactions are represented on the page despite so much being said and articulated on screen. For example, in the subsequent shot of the small doppelgängers, when they pick up a dinner fork and like men on a battering ram, they race forward and jam it into Ash’s buttocks, there’s a beat as one of the little devils shouts:
“Ramming speed!”
On the page, the description is playing it straight, right down to the use of the word buttocks, but on screen the action is infused with hilarious nuance. The script even looks like a laundry list of gags, separated by emboldened text which directs the reader to either ASH or THE TINY ASHES, allowing for a near-visual sense of perspective change without the normal header or block of action description. It reads faster and more fluidly, making for an experience that falls more closely in line with the finished film.
ASH
SCREAMS in agony and jerks forward, banging his head into the stove pipe.
From the shot of the three Ashes mounting the fork and the POV of the object as it fires toward Ash’s derrière, to the quick cut close up of Ash’s widening eyes and the medium cut of his head slamming against the metal pipe, this is truly where the scene transitions from one of encroaching atmosphere to that of rapid-fire operation.
Each of Bruce Campbell’s reactions is set side by side with the next of the tiny Ash’s attacks. As Ash reels from hitting his head, the film depicts the tiny Ashes as they lift the barrel of a shotgun in Ash’s direction. The film again adds in a bit of dialogue for one of the tiny Ashes:
“Ready, aim, fire!”
While the script does dictate that Ash barely dives away from the blast that would have taken his head off, its the manic manner in which Bruce Campbell’s expression shifts to wild eyed fear and resolution which makes the moment land with such intensity and amusement. Here, however, the script does call for the sort of reaction the Tiny Ashes have been exhibiting since their debut:
THE TINY ASHES
SHRIEK with uncontrollable laughter.
It should be noted, at this point, some deviations begin to appear between the script and the theatrical cut of the film. While a more complete Director’s Cut is available, the theatrical trims the scene down significantly, creating a faster avenue to get to the next point in the film at the cost of no small degree of logic or continuity.
Here, all that’s removed is the moment where Ash pulls the fork from his buttocks. When Ash is shown again, he is already holding the fork, eyeing one of the tiny Ashes with malice. Again the emboldened text switches perspective to TINY ASH #1 and reads is running for his life, as fast as his tiny legs will carry him.
In the tradition of classic Looney Tunes animation, the perspective of the camera affects who the audience perceives to be the “villain” at any given time. Suddenly it is the Tiny Ashes who must run for their lives in spite of their unnatural origins and instigation of the fight in the first place. Ash stands over them, scowling and plotting, taking enjoyment in the act of causing them pain. The film even adds in a line from Ash himself: “You lousy little…”
TRACKING SHOT — THE FORK
a giant projectile as it ROARS AT CAMERA. PAN with it as it WHOOSHES past.
FA-THONG!
THE FORK
skewers tiny Ash #1 to the wooden wall of the mill.
In a shot which mirrors its earlier counterpart, the fork flies toward its target, the description of which again is overtly simple but hilarious and visceral.
The camera cuts to a low angle shot of Ash, stumbling over a broom handle that has been thrust out in front of him by other tiny ASHES. His head slams into the metal pipe again, lending to the kind of repetitive physical comedy present in something like a 3 Stooges short or the aforementioned Warner Brothers style animation the scene is so steeped in.
The block of action description which follows spells out exactly what happens on screen, as it has before, but again can not possibly do to the practical execution justice:
He lands with his cheek pressed against the hot stove. SSSSSSssss. He pries his face loose with a spatula.”
It’s easy to understand what’s happening, but how it happens is a different animal all together.
The look on Bruce Campbell’s face as he realizes that his cheek is being cooked. The hilarious way with which the tiny Ashes celebrate their newest victory. The excruciating pain Bruce releases in his uproarious screams as he digs the metal spatula under his skin and scrapes it off the grill as he would a burger patty that had sat for a minute or two too long…
All of this can be read from the script while not appearing there, such is the genius of how the comedy and situations are written in the first place. They’re clear… with room to breathe.
There is a scripted sequence where Ash is struck with a bucket of grease, falls and pushes a Tiny Ash into the fire which was omitted for the theatrical but included in the Director’s Cut. In the theatrical cut, the scene cuts immediately to a close up of Ash’s angry eyes as he glances down at the darting vermin born of his own visage. The cut loses the continuity of why the floor is suddenly so slippery and what the large white chunks are doing on his face, but continues to move the scene along at breakneck speed.
From a low angle, the film follows Ash as he stomps forward, losing all semblance of composure and appearing like the Giant from Jack and the Beanstalk, singing the ominous and unscripted tune of London Bridge is Falling Down as he does so:
Ash’s giant foot comes down to crush the little man.
As Ash’s foot fills the frame, blotting out his maniacal expression, the tiny Ash sees a nail and raises it:
THE NAIL RIPS
through Ash’s shoe.
ASH
jerks his leg upward in pain.
As before, the reader is provided action description reminiscent of a shot list, allowing for an unusually clear onscreen perspective. Ash’s reaction is throaty and wordless, his mouth agape and his eyes shocked and horrified— it’s a big performance that again would feel right at home in any of the The 3 Stooges misadventures. Simultaneously several of the tiny Ashes have climbed onto one another’s backs to finish Ash’s song with the unscripted punchline:
“My fair lady — HA!”
Ash slips and falls in this version’s unexplained grease patch, slipping into BLACKNESS.
ASH
awakens on the floor of the Mill, like Gulliver he is bound with tiny ropes.
The close up shot which arises out of the blackness holds on Ash’s eyes. They open, calm and sleepy, as Ash offers his again unscripted reaction to what he’s just experienced:
“What a horrible nightmare… wait a minute… Ohh God… I can’t move!”
The hilariously dunce-like nature of Ash possibly being able to entertain the notion that what he had just experienced was only a nightmare adds an additional layer of humor to what is already an incredibly effective comic display. The camera pulls back as Ash shouts, showing the tiny Ashes at work around him as their giant target is haphazardly tied to the floor.
TINY ASH #7 AND #8
stand atop Ash’s face. They push from either side of his nostrils, plugging his nose. Ash’s mouth opens as he gasps for air. As he inhales…
TINY ASH #6
is released.
“Open wide,” one of the tiny Ashes shouts as another flies through the air yelling “Geronimo!” Ash, disoriented and incapacitated, attempts to hold his breath but is forced to open his mouth at the last moment. The disgust and strangeness of the moment is all but forgotten due to the madcap speed at which the events play out. The audience is as Ash, simply reacting to the onslaught in the moment rather than overanalyzing as it proceeds. In essence, the film allows the comedy to unfold and for the viewer to accept their visceral reactions over what would normally be a more logic-based approach.
After a perfect swan dive, the tiny Ash disappears down Ash’s throat. Ash breaks his bonds and stands, causing the remaining tiny Ashes to run screaming in terror, panicking in the wake of their untethered monster. They disappear after this, both in the script and in the film, however on the page without the panicking. The script calls for Ash to mutter a few lines of dialogue, but the film actually cuts these words, focusing instead of Ash’s practical reactions to having swallowed a tiny, demonic version of himself.
In a wide shot, Ash notices steam. The camera pans down to reveal a boiling kettle in the foreground which Ash eyes with berserk elation.
He stands indignant but doubles over in sudden pain.
The film adds in the mischievous, muffled giggles of the thing inside his stomach if only to hammer home the need for Ash to dispel the creature before it can do any real damage. Ash makes his way over to the kettle and moves to pick it up, pulling his hand away from the handle in pain. The moment not only increases the tension of the oncoming action, but adds a sense of comic madness to what’s about to happen. If he can’t even touch it, how can he be expected to swallow it.
The reality is a hyper-one, a place where a face can be fried with no real cosmetic damage and still as he raises the kettle to his mouth with a feral look in his eye, shouting “OK little fella, how about some hot chocolate, huh?”, the viewer can’t help but cringe.
He grabs the hot kettle from the stove and pours the scalding contents painfully down his throat.
One line. And yet, much more than that.
A tiny SCREAM emits from Ash’s stomach.
With the addition of a slight boiling sound, the scream marks the death of the tiny Ash in Ash’s belly. The moment of triumph is short-lived as Ash again makes the mistake of gloating:
“How’d you like the taste of that, huh? How’d you like the ta—”
As he talks, he begins to itch his arm. The itching appears to become painful and then he rips back his shirt sleeve. In the script:
CLOSE ON ASH’S ARM — STOP MOTION ANIMATION
We can see the outline of Tiny Ash #6’s body squirming down Ash’s arm, just beneath the skin.
The film forgoes the stop-motion animation angle, rather revealing a grotesque eye growing out of his shoulder. This also appears in the script about a page later:
Upon his shoulder… THERE BLINKS A THIRD EYEBALL!!!
THE CAMERA RACES INTO THIS HIDEOUS SIGHT
It is the eyeball of EVIL ASH.
In between these two events is a battle which rages between Ash and his EVIL IRON HAND a concept which was omitted from the film altogether. Reminiscent of the events which occurred in Evil Dead 2 (1987), the scene is a quippy spin on Ash’s own body turning against him. While funny and in line with the previous sequence, its omission seems to speed along the narrative and keeps things feeling fresh.
As it is, the scene ends as is scripted after the encounter with his EVIL IRON HAND:
ASH
SHRIEKS and SHRIEKS and races out of the mill.
The film leaves behind the tiny Ashes in lieu of their logical evolution, a full grown counterpart more capable of destroying the one they derived from. The plot has progressed and the stakes have been raised, all the while priming the mind of the viewer, or in the case of the screenplay, the reader, for the sorts of hysterics, fantasy and, yes, even horror, the remainder of the film will have in store.
THE BLOODY CONCLUSION
“That was probably the most storyboarded sequence,” Bruce Campbell recalled on the documentary Medieval Times: The Making of the Army of Darkness located on the Scream Factory blu-ray disc (Available here). “Each one had to have its own background shot in advance,” he continued, “so just the scheduling of it was a nightmare.”
Hollywood Video boasted a “WORLD CLASS SELECTION!” The promise of new and unforeseen wonders that I couldn’t even imagine. Still, initially, I gravitated toward what I knew. What was comfortable. And yet it was the unfamiliar wall of strange movies, marked with nothing other than the word CULT that stayed with me for years after.
I couldn’t tell you what the movie I actually rented that day was, but I can tell you what I saw on the cover of Army of Darkness. The picture. The tagline. Everything.
And then I think about that word again. Cult.
A secret collective?
Something dangerous?
Something misunderstood?
All of the above?
Perhaps there is no one definition of the word as it pertains to film or a genre, rather the word’s subjective application, something which isn’t finite… which can vary from person to person. And yet, when I think of a CULT film, the first thing that jumps to mind is Army of Darkness.
It’s a movie that exists in a stylized universe, a hyper-reality that fits the unique tone and interactions of the story. Sam and Ivan Raimi’s script builds out the skeleton of this world with simplicity and grace, allowing for Sam Raimi’s unbound imagination to take the reins onscreen. In Sam Raimi’s own words, found on the commentary track on the previously mentioned blu-ray disc release, “[It’s] happening in a slightly different reality than he’s used to.”
Little in the film represents this better than the scene involving the blitz of the tiny Ashes. A sequence as silly as the thought is disturbing. The slapdash, comic performance and lightning pace mixed with the monumental efforts involved to make it come to life practically speak to the quality of the project and the impressiveness of its aims… and to what makes a CULT movie so special in the first place.
In the commentary, Bruce Campbell recalls the stand-ins that helped comprise the group of tiny Ashes, saying, “We had them wear Bruce Campbell chins and noses.” He also recalls having to perform multiple scenes in reverse, particularly that where one tiny Ash is skewered with a fork:
“[The scene] had to be done in reverse motion… had to go from being dead to struggling and running out backwards.”
It’s a scene worth appreciating. Adoring. Believing in.
I’ll always appreciate the days of the video store and think back on the advent of Hollywood Video in my town fondly. Not only because of the titles it introduced me to, or the countless hours I spent merely observing the cover art on the films they housed there but because Hollywood Video was the first to make me curious about the possibilities of film. The place that helped plant the seed of CULT in my mind.
Army of Darkness runs the genre gamut, unafraid to try anything, be anything and do anything. Every level of the film, from the script to the cinematography, from the performances to the set design, is unpredictable and endlessly entertaining. Truly, there is no cover more deserving to sit below the wildly colorful title of CULT than this.
Perhaps its Bruce Campbell who sums it up best, however, in the documentary Medieval Times: The Making of the Army of Darkness when he describes Ash’s character and what makes him so unique:
“Ash is so not the right guy— he has no skills and he’s cocky and he makes horrible mistakes.”
Sometimes what seems like the wrong thing for a movie can be the best decision for it. If only I could advise that younger version of myself, as I passed by CULT on my way to “DRAMA”, to tread out of my comfort zone. But, then again, if this memory has any sort of grand message, I think it’s that when it comes to such cinema, you don’t find it…
Whether you’re trapped in time, surrounded by evil or just low on gas— it finds you.
Army of Darkness (1984): Written by Sam Raimi & Ivan Raimi and Directed by Sam Raimi
