By C. Rommial Butler
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I went into Night Swim not expecting much and I was pleasantly unsurprised.
I still don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
This brings to mind an interesting point about the Horror genre, especially in film. When we sit down to watch a horror flick, generally speaking, we go with low expectations; and sometimes, we hope for bad results! The immense amount of love for Full Moon, Troma, slasher films, and Roger Corman, just to name a small number of examples, will suffice to illustrate my point, as does this account of my Thanksgiving dive into Split Second.
Not only do we horror hounds not mind bad, but we also genuinely enjoy it! Sometimes, as with Corman, we can enjoy seeing a master make so much out of so little. Sure, some of it is awful; but then you have things like the original Little Shop of Horrors, which still stands the test of time and has inspired countless spinoffs, most notably the musical later played to perfection by Rick Moranis and company.
Sometimes, like in the bulk of slasher films, it’s all about body count and creative kills. Bad acting, bad dialogue, bad cinematography, bad plot, bad, bad, bad. But how many folks did the killer take out and in what way? It’s about seeing the magic worked by effects wizards like Tom Savini and perhaps exorcising the same sort of mindless joy one might have experienced at the Roman colosseum.
Personally, I think this is a good thing, in that we’re not lining up to watch people murdered in real life. The Roman games were one big snuff film that was never taped!
I could go on and on, but I don’t want to stray too far. Think about it, though. What is it about horror that you enjoy and why—especially those projects which are, by every objective measure, poorly made?
But see, that’s the problem with Night Swim. It’s neither bad nor good. It is, as my youngest daughter remarked when exiting the theater, basic. The plot fits together okay, and there’s some interesting ideas in there, but you can see how they set the pins up and knock them down almost too methodically.
It plods so evenly that the jump scares do not scare.
It was just good enough to keep me interested but not good enough for me to really like it. Had it been awful, like the beloved tropes I describe above, I would have at the least found it memorable on that account because I should have wanted to wipe it from my mind forever!
But, no, I won’t have any trouble forgetting Night Swim. It won’t stick with me because it scared or disturbed me, or even just because it was comically bad. It will fade into the background like the other scenery in my life. Maybe there will be a faint recollection of a story about a haunted swimming pool and a struggling x-baseball player, but I won’t care enough to dredge it from the deep end of my own shadowy soul.
Nevertheless, if you are curious about what I mean, and you’ve got nothing better to do, catch Night Swim on streaming later. Not a theater-worthy film at all, especially at today’s high prices. They got my money because I just wanted to hang out with my kids at the movies.
I leave you with this analogy to the delightful phenomena of heckle-worthy horror:
You ever taste something bitter, make a face, and turn to someone else and say: This is gross! Taste it!
Therein, dear reader, lies the key to understanding what encourages us to keep going back to this delightfully poisoned well of bad film and, often, even worst taste. In the end, it’s not the things we do but the people we share them with; and after all, not all poison is bad, so long as we don’t get so intoxicated we barf!
Thanks for taking the time to share these insights with me.
Until we meat again!
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C. Rommial Butler is a writer, musician and philosopher from Indianapolis, IN. His works can be found online through multiple streaming services and booksellers. More original articles can be found HERE.
