Were it not for Michele Soavi’s brilliant and beautiful zombie flick Cemetery Man, I could safely assure you that Adrian Lyne’s (9 ½ Weeks, Fatal Attraction) wonderfully surreal film Jacob’s Ladder was the best horror film released in the 1990’s. And while Soavi and Lyne’s films are different in a lot of ways, they also have something in common—an existential theme dealing with the nature of life, death, and existence that colors the events throughout both films and tends to confound and intrigue viewers at the same time.
Soavi’s film is a largely light-hearted affair that saves its wallop for the final scene. Lyne’s is a heavily atmospheric film that blurs the line between dream and reality throughout its narrative until its exposition-laden ending, yet both films are far more thoughtful in their presentation than just about any other genre film to come along in recent years. If you haven’t seen either of these movies, seek them out…you’re in for quite a treat.
Inspired by Ambrose Bierce’s "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" (and someone else pointed out to me that it also bears a resemblance to the original Carnival of Souls—a film I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t seen) Jacob’s Ladder tells the story of Jacob Singer (Tim Robbins: The Player, Bull Durham) an ex-Vietnam vet who lives in an extremely surreal version of NYC. Jacob’s got a doctorate in philosophy, yet he works as a postal carrier. He’s living with a co-worker, Jezzie (Elizabeth Pena: Strangeland, Lonestar, Rush Hour) while lamenting his divorce and the death of his young son. Things aren’t quite right in Jacob’s world—witnessed by the fact that he keeps seeing these odd, faceless demons all around him. Are these monsters demons sent to take him to Hell? Are they angels? Is Jacob already dead? Are they hallucinations inspired by a military experiment? These are just a few of the questions that Jacob’s Ladder asks us to ponder during the course of its 115 minute running time.
Lyne (along with screenwriter Bruce Joel Rubin) has done a masterful job of creating a film that continually unsettles its audience. From the first scene, where Jacob is in Vietnam and all of his fellow soldiers start to hallucinate and vomit, on to his trip into the bowels of a decidedly abnormal hospital, Lyne never allows the audience to relax. You’re on this trip with Jacob, no less confused than he and no less disturbed by the events transpiring around him. Jacob’s Ladder is an immersive film experience—one that defies you not to be drawn into its world and sympathize with Jacob’s situation.
Tim Robbins is great as Jacob—capturing the tormented, paranoid aspect of the role, yet also portraying the character as a normal everyman—one who simply wants to live his ordinary life. Pena is equally impressive as Jezzie—Jacob’s lover, and a woman who might not be quite what she appears to be. Danny Aiello does a fine job in the supporting role as Louis, Jacob’s chiropractor and spiritual advisor. These three core performances provide a solid foundation for Lyne to build his film on. Even with Lyne’s bag full of directorial tricks, Jacob’s Ladder would have fallen flat with lesser actors filling the parts. There’s a lot of heavy material in the film—material that required stronger performances than you’d find in your standard genre flick. Fortunately, these actors deliver the goods.
If you wanted to describe the film in one word, you could choose scary. However, disturbing would probably be more accurate. Lyne does a fantastic job of creating a world that appears normal on a surface inspection, but is somehow ‘off’ when looking at it more closely. Even more impressive is that while you know there’s something not quite right about the film’s world, Lyne rarely allows you an opportunity to figure out exactly what it is—and when he does, it’s usually in a quick cut, almost subliminal image that gnaws at your subconscious.
While Jacob’s Ladder is a film that deals with life and death, Heaven and Hell, and the potential for an afterlife, Lyne makes a wise choice in choosing to portray it all in non-Christian imagery. Instead of filling the film with standard demons, Lyne chooses to go for a more bizarre look. The film’s demons are people with thalidomide deformities, with rapidly shaking heads that never allow you to see a face, etc. This is a great technique, because it keeps the viewer off balance. Had Lyne chosen to put a standard Judeo-Christian style demon in his film, audiences would have immediately identified it as such and become comfortable with the image and less disturbed by the film. Another impressive technique deals with the way Lyne manages to take the ordinary and mundane and make it menacing. For example, as Jacob’s wheeled on a gurney through the hospital, Lyne centers his shot on a wheel that doesn’t quite reach the floor. Its spinning and squeaking are unsettling enough, but it becomes even more disturbing when that wheel stops running across a normal hospital corridor and starts running through puddles of blood and body parts.
Maurice Jarre (Ghost, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome) provides the film’s score, which is appropriately creepy throughout. It also manages to capture the grandness of the revelatory scenes near the climax as well.
What few faults there are with Jacob’s Ladder occur near the end of the film. Lyne decides to include a long, expository scene, explaining things that were probably better left unsaid. He also cut a scene from that part of the film, and from the prior sequence, that should have been left in. Don’t fret, though—you can view these scenes in the deleted scenes section of the DVD, which also offers a fantastic documentary and an informative commentary track.
Jacob’s Ladder is one of those underrated gems in the horror genre—a film that wasn’t gory and didn’t feature a wisecracking slasher villain to make it appeal to most of the horror crowd, yet it was too surreal and disturbing to interest most mainstream audiences. Fortunately, it’s been resurrected on DVD, where audiences can see this surreal masterpiece in all its original glory. Jacob’s Ladder is an intense and disturbing look at life, death, and the afterlife—yet, it’s fairly uplifting at the same time. It poses questions to which there are no answers, then offers its own interpretations while still allowing for the audience to draw its own conclusions. Surprisingly, it holds up quite well when viewed repeatedly—offering up new ideas and insights each time out. Jacob’s Ladder is film that will stay with you long after you view it, and make you think at the same time. Those two facts alone make it essential viewing for horror fans and philosophers alike.
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