Like Raiders of the Lost Ark, Creepshow is certainly a hell of a lot more famous than it should be. It somehow manages to intend its ridiculousness, yet still be ridiculous for a lot of other reasons. But most of it is so thoroughly memorable that the camp factor eventually gives way to a classic-ness that might have more to do with people's childhood memories of cable-TV than anything else.
The film contains five segments, all written by King in an intentionally cheesy faux-Poe style, and directed by Romero with a careful eye for the staging, pacing, and visual presentation of the E.C. comics. A few moments are genuinely scary, but mostly this is a love letter to that genre with tongue firmly in cheek.
I saw this a number of times in the mid-80s, and watching it again now, at perhaps its least culturally relevant moment, I was suprised by how much of it I remembered vividly. Who can forget the image of Ted Danson being buried up to his neck by Leslie Nielsen, much less Danson returning as a zombie? Or E.G. Marshall's dead body bursting with cockroaches? Or Adrienne Barbeau's bitchy character getting her just desserts at the hands of Hal Holbrook's boxed-up rage monster? Or Ed Harris being crushed by a different zombie who has come back for Father's Day cake? Or Stephen King himself blowing his head off with a shotgun after turning into a giant plant?
Pretty good yarnage. I must say, though, this time around I had a vague feeling of suspicion the entire time, like I was being gypped out of something intangible perhaps it's just that, like arcade games and furtive masturbating, this movie makes a lot more sense when you're about 12.
Review by Jessica Tamponi