Studio 666
Directed by: B.J. McDonnell
Runtime: 106 Doritos-sponsored minutes
Not every horror film is going to be The Exorcist in terms of heavy tone, nor match Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer’s bleakness. B.J. McDonnell’s Studio 666 takes the members of rock band, the Foo Fighters, led by Dave Grohl, and places them in a classic horror setting: the Californian mansion—those real estate taxes, man. Oh, and it’s likely the devil is influencing the group’s tenth album.
Grohl is not entirely unfamiliar to me, even as someone who can barely review films, let alone music. His odd, awkward-but-assured charm from public appearances and the occasional YouTube video carries over into Studio 666. Without being able to do a sociological study of the audience I experienced this film with, I got the impression that even if most people knew who Grohl was, he definitely “won” the audience over with his cheek over the course of the film.
Crucial to the film’s tone is the performance by Whitney Cummings. She’s the creepy neighbour over the fence. Not just because she’s into chakras and sun baths either. It’s through performances like hers, Will Forte’s and Jeff Garlin’s—who all have a slant towards the comedic, that the film really expresses its tone outside the ludicrous, yet imaginative, use of gratuitous gore. Richard Belzer had a quote about gratuitous sex versus gratuitous violence, but Studio 666 certainly challenges the idea that all violence is inherently gratuitous. Even if that were true, a new word needs to be coined to express the joyful and creative lengths the team behind this film goes through as a love letter to horror.
Heading into the film, I was worried that it would simply serve as an infomercial for the Foo Fighters’ latest album. Or be so musically oriented I would be lost. The film is way more focused on its aforementioned horror elements, and is closest to being porn for Doritos, given the gratuitous product placement (this is another earned use of gratuitous). Intentional or not, I found this funny. When band member Pat Smear even calls back to that time he was “standing around eating chips” to remind you of those Doritos Cool Mild, how can you not?
Studio 666 does not take itself too seriously, but does so with respect to horror as a genre. It’s easy to imagine the entire band, but specifically Grohl, sitting around eating Doritos and watching Dario Argento films or admiring the effects work of Tom Savini. But it’s also easy to imagine the frustration Grohl was working through when he wrote a character called “Greg Nohl” who killed all his fellow band members and first penned the story that screenwriters Jeff Buhler and Rebecca Hughes have based this film on.
It’s not perfect. Jokes miss. Maybe I’m old, but I don’t find the band members insulting each other with expletives for no reason at all funny. But the film does have genuinely inspired moments. My favourite is probably the sequence of scenes where two characters speculate on the demonic possession of another character. At a seemingly tone-breaking moment, the obviousness of this reality takes a chance most other horror films—even cheeky ones—would probably not have the guts—or fake guts—to try.
Studio 666 is not going to redefine horror as a genre. But it is a perfectly endearing entry into it, with a sincere aim of simply entertaining, whilst providing a vehicle to show off the unique charms of its cast, while being a not-so-subtle outlet for musical writer’s block and frustrations with the music industry. If you don’t take it too seriously, it might strike a note with you. But probably not “L-minor”, the super-secret note Grohl “invents” after visiting the basement of this haunted mansion. Although it might make you hungry for Doritos.
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