Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon

Horror and comedy is a tough mix, but Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon for the most part
inventively juggles the disparate tones of both types of films
— certainly
impressively showcasing why the former genre is so frequently traded in by low-budget
filmmakers — and in the process undeniably establishes career beachheads for
all of its young principal players
.

The names of both Wes Craven and Christopher Guest have been
invoked in countless reviews of Behind
the Mask
, which enjoyed a brief theatrical run in limited markets
nationwide earlier this summer, and it’s not entirely inappropriate, really. Directed
and produced by Scott Glosserman from a generally smart and often quite funny script
co-written with David J. Stieve, the film is set in a world where Freddy
Krueger, Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees all actually exist
. Despite its very
specifically evocative title, and the downward-arc biographies of washed-up entertainment
figures that such a designation summons forth, Behind the Mask unfolds in mockumentary form as the grad-school
project for non-fiction filmmaker Taylor Gentry (Angela Goethals), who follows
around up-and-coming homicidal maniac Leslie Vernon (Invasion’s Nathan Baesel) as he plots the labyrinthine killing
spree that will launch him into infamy.

Leslie has graciously given Taylor
and her documentary crew unprecedented access to his life as he trains and
plans for his reign of terror over the sleepy town of Glen
Echo
. Along the way he dines with an old mentor (Scott
Wilson), scouts and preps locations, and explains the necessity of the sort of convoluted
rules of procedure that, in the world outside the movie, govern horror films.
Per their agreement, Taylor
refrains from rendering judgment on Leslie’s aspiration, though she finds that promise
more and more difficult to keep as things wear on. A Nightmare on Elm Street’s Robert Englund, meanwhile, plays Doc
Holloran, a vaguely Dr. Loomis-esque figure bent on exposing the truth about
Leslie’s past (“the Ahab of the piece,” as Leslie explains), and stopping his
murderous plans.

As a slice of deconstructive, tongue-in-cheek entertainment,
Behind the Mask is certainly beaten
to the punch by Scream, yet it still
offers a fresh perspective since so much of the movie unfolds in casual
fashion, and through the eyes of the putative villain of the piece. Baesel is a
great guide here; there’s a bit of Seann William Scott’s American Pie mischievousness in his performance
. The script is also
deftly balanced between droll and whimsical. One moment Leslie is running
through his training regimen (“You have no idea how much cardio I have to
do…”), the next he’s waxing rhapsodic about his search for the perfect victims,
and the order in which thy must die (“How do the swallows find Capistrano?”).
If there are knocks, it’s that the elements of mythology and back-story that
drive the movie’s latter third don’t fully coalesce, and (another seemingly
minor quibble, I’m sure), Leslie’s killer garb includes an extremely small
mask (above) that, well, seems kind of silly. That said, this is a rather
ingenious little independent movie, and certainly one well worth a look for
genre diehards
.

Presented in 1.85:1 widescreen, enhanced for 16×9
televisions, Behind the Mask comes
with Dolby digital 5.1 and Dolby surround 2.0 audio tracks. It’s housed in a
regular Amray case which is turn stored in a cardboard slipcase with a gatefold
cover that sticks shut courtesy of a small touch of non-marking adhesive. It’s
nice to see such a small title, all things considered, anchored by a solid
slate of bonus features. Kicking things off is a rather cluttered audio
commentary track
with actors Baesal, Goethals, Britain
Spellings and Ben Pace. This is recommended only for those who’ve seen the
feature once or twice before; while some of the stories and good-natured
ribbing (“Oh, the Yannic imagery!”) are amusing, the constant talking over one
another does get old.

The best supplemental bit is a fantastic 32-minute making-of
featurette, constructed around video diary segments from director Glosserman

(who, humorously, talks about the cast getting together and getting drunk just
prior to the start of production). There’s also six minutes casting tapes from
the audition process, and a clutch of deleted and extended scenes with optional
commentary with Glosserman; the latter runs just over 25 minutes in aggregate. Teaser
and full-length trailers for the movie, along with a DVD-ROM copy of the film’s
screenplay rounds things out. It’s a fantastic package for an inventive, neat
little film. B+ (Movie) A- (Disc)