Review: "Todd & The Book of Pure Evil"

 

DUNNISON, James, et.al. (Dirs.), created by Craig David Wallace, Charles Picco & Anthony Leo, “Todd & The Book of Pure Evil – Season One”, Aircraft Pictures/Corvid Productions/Frantic Films/ Space, 2010.

 

Let me say right up front that this sort of thing really isn’t my cup of tea; but it’s horror and it’s about a book so I thought I should at least give it a go.

The American high school, it seems, is the quintessential background for setting horror stories. I suppose it’s because the inevitable characters are all fairly stereotypical and, since everyone falls into ready-made ‘camps’, it’s easy to schlock through the humour, setting factions in opposition. We’ve seen this material before in “Buffy The Vampire Slayer” and in “Glee” (definitely a different kind of horror there!). In “Todd” it’s the same old, same old, but the gore and innuendo have been dialled up to 11.

The basic premise is that Todd, a wannabe heavy metal guitarist, stoner and would-be (can’t-be) Lothario, finds an ancient tome that grants the darkest desires to those who possess it. Having been eliminated from Crowley High’s Battle of the Bands competition (he can’t sing and play at the same time and his friend Curtis, the drummer, only has one arm) he uses the Book of Pure Evil to grant him “heavy metal powers” and re-enters the competition with his re-formed band Barbarian Apocalypse (sans Curtis, whom he dumps in an evil-fuelled megalomaniacal spasm). Of course, mayhem ensues.

 

The Book of Pure Evil:

apparently bound in the foreskin of Judas Iscariot (we're told)

The fallout from the competition informs the rest of the series: Jenny, the hot chick, has lost her father, a reporter who was on the trail of something mysterious – the only clue to his disappearance is a photo of the Book; Hannah, the science geek whose parents were both killed in a mysterious car accident, worships Todd – unrequited - from afar; the one-armed Curtis has serious ‘bromance’ issues with his best buddy Todd. Together they convince the self-involved stoner to stop masturbating for five minutes and search for the Book before it destroys the entire town.

 

Of course this is just “Buffy” but with Xander as the main character, rather than the slayer. While watching this, I thought that there might be some amusement in replicating it in gaming terms: there’s definitely a good premise for a series of Teenagers From Outer Space sessions here. If you haven’t played TFOS before, I heartily recommend it: I’m a big fan of games that embrace their genres wholeheartedly, both in terms of setting and system, and this game from Mike Pondsmith and Talsorian Games is perfect for light, fun gaming. Perhaps they should be marketing a “Todd” supplement?

There are some cute moments: the school counsellor Atticus Murphy, Jnr. is a cult spy, sent by “His Evillness” to discover the whereabouts of the Book in the nest of despair and social isolation that Crowley High represents: his connexions to the Outside World make him more pro-active and engaged than his antediluvian superiors which leads to some deftly humourous dialogue and his undercover status at the school makes for some funny scenes. The fact that he is named after the upright legal defender from To Kill A Mockingbird is a clever aside, along with the name of the school itself. Another sly inclusion is the worldy-wise janitor, Jimmy, who coaches Todd as he bumbles through each adventure, à la Jay and Silent Bob from Kevin Smith’s films (and yes, he is played by Jason Mewes of “Jay” fame): is Jimmy working for the Book? Or is he siding with the kids? We never seem to know, but Jimmy is the source of some hilarious moments.

The rest is really just smutty gross-out. Violent, bloody deaths abound; cheerleaders engage in all-kinds of (implied) sexual adventure (usually to prop-up their school grades); and cannabis abounds. The underdogs win the day and the cool kids inevitably come up short.

 

Just as an aside, the stereotypes always seem to me to be a little back-to-front. In this kind of entertainment, the socially-awkward, everyman hero, usually succeeds before the credits roll, inevitably achieving popularity and replacing the quarterback as the object of the hot chick’s affections. Said hot chick is promoted as being initially blind to the shallow attitudes of her hunky suitor, but is perceptive enough to see though the limitations of the erstwhile pursuivant dogging her affections. Inevitably, the hot chick assumes the role of enlightened, reasoning human being, defender of the weak, denier of the narrow-minded. And hot; thereafter linking these qualities inextricably in the minds of the viewer. The beautiful people, as usual, always seem to win the day.

If you enjoyed the “American Pie” series of films, or if Kevin Smith is your go-to director for funny, then you’ll probably like this series a lot. Wit and subtlety it ain’t.

Two-and-a-half tentacled horrors.