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Why aren’t there more well-known killer scarecrow movies? I mean, there’s plenty of famous killer scarecrows in movies – such as Jonathan Crane in Batman Begins and Ray Bolger’s Scarecrow in The Wizard Of Oz (massive assist in the elimination of the Wicked Witch Of The West) – but when it comes to films specifically about bird scaring effigies slaughtering people, you’d think that there’d be at least one that would be the poster child for an underutilised subgenre.
Well guess what, back in 1988, we got exactly that in the form of William Wesley’s Scarecrows, a movie that may lack smarts and subtlety in its straw-filled noggin, but who makes up for it with a cool concept and some nicely mean-spirited gore. It may be cheesy as hell, but what more would you expect (or want) from a 1980s killer scarecrow movie?
It’s not just the crows that’s gathering for a murder.
We join the action already in progress as a team of five paramilitary mercenaries/war criminals are making an ariel getaway after stealing $3 million from Camp Pendleton while taking a pilot and his daughter and dog hostage. However, it soon becomes apparent that there’s no honor among thieves when one of their number, Bert, decides to get greedy and leaps out the plane with the loot while leaving a live grenade behind as a goodbye present. However, as the team of Corbin, Curry, Jack and Roxanne are able to think pretty quick in their feet (well, maybe not Jack), they manage to dispel the explosive before it goes off and start after their treacherous team mate to get their haul back.
Meanwhile, Bert’s taken a bit of an awkward landing and is trying to frantically find where his twice-stolen payday has landed. However, all he can seem to find is endless corn fields, a dilapidated farmhouse and a small army of scarecrows all lined up about the place. As creepy as that is, things progressively get worse when he starts driving a truck that’s revealed to have no engine, finds himself going inexplicably in circles and impossibly hearing the voices of his former friends coming from the woods despite his sizable lead. All is revealed when the hapless turncoat discovers too late that the area is the property of three satanist worshiping farmers, who went on to possess a trio of scarecrows after they died. After falling foul of their knives and sickles, the deadly bird deterrents think it’s a gas to hollow out Bert’s body, stuff him full with his stolen cash and reanimate him to go after his former partners after they take refuge in that old farm house.
Realising that their dreams of being filthy rich have been swapped out for simplier goals of surviving an attack of living, killer scarecrows, can this group of trained mercenaries manage to escape back to their plane before they to get well and truly stuffed?
Independently made, Scarecrows is hardly the smartest horror film to emerge from the 80s, nor is it the most polished, or best acted – but sometimes the right amount of things come together in exactly the right way to create something that’s undeniably super-watchable, no matter how schlocky it may be. Maybe somewhat unsurprising for a scarecrow movie, but we find it’s chest cavity to be crammed full of the most curious stuff that strangely compliments each other. For a start, rather than going the more obvious route and having the titular haystacks descend on a clutch of partying teens, the movie offers up a team of hardened, trash-talking mercenaries who all come equipped with machine guns, night vision goggles and bad attitudes that immediately makes them far more fun than a gaggle of some punk kids. In fact, it almost feels like the kind of gung-ho, testosterone-powered, overly confident military team you’d normally find in an 80s era Canon film have gotten seriously lost and wandered into the wrong genre. OK, so they basically have the survival instincts of a typical band of slasher teens, but seeing as their dynamic is more Aliens and Predator than Friday The 13th and The Burning, it immediately makes the film intriguingly different.
Better yet, the Scarecrows themselves are actually pretty fucking dope, lurking out in the dark, undercover of all the other “normal” scarecrows in the area. But while their cool, zombie-esque visages are nice and imposing, it’s their funky, scarecrow habits and excessively mean nature which sets them apart from the pack. They can mimic voices like a stalking Yatjua to throw their prey off, their hay-stuffed innards are immune to the frequent, panic-fire they encounter and once they get hold of their victims, they waste no time about slicing them up and putting them to work – which results in some truly standout gore. A pitchfork through the hand, or a knife in the breadbasket is harsh enough, but once the burlap clad monsters get to work pimping up their victims him their own twisted image, the concept impressively comes to life with some truly great examples of body horror.
Of course, some of it grossly doesn’t make any sense – why do none of these hardened battle veterans think to fight their dry, flammable foes with something as rudimentary as a lighter? – and I’d hardly call some of the actors great thespians of our time, but there’s something just so fucking wonderful about the whole, misshapen thing, that it proves to be an incredibly fun, despite being an undeniably basic watch. In fact, when it comes to 80s horror flicks overachieving thanks to pitch-perfect plots, I’d happily put Scarecrows in with the likes of C.H.U.D. and Maniac Cop when it comes to a cheesy, horror scenario that’s virtually bullet proof regardless of budget or talent.
Anyone looking for deeper thrills might be saddened to discover that evil-scarecrows-killing-mercs is literally all that’s going on here (what, you wanted more?). However, when the gore is this spiteful, the Scarecrows are this creepy and the heroes are an amusing step-up from the helpless sacks of promiscuous jelly that usually populate this type of schlock, you’re undoubtedly on to a winner that dares to be a little different. Also, in the near-40 years since it’s released, there’s literally not been another killer scarecrow flick that’s stuck in the memory other than this one, so surely that’s got to count for something? It’s hardly Night Of The Living Dead, but when it comes to having it where it counts, Scarecrows will fill you up with all the cheap thrills you could need.
Nice and simple, director Wesley manages to deliver fun and creeps thanks to a can’t-fail recipe of 80s ridiculousness. In fact, it’s one of those films I’m stunned hasn’t been remade as some sort of hay-flinging horror/action extravaganza. Dumb and fun in all the right ways, Scarecrows is most definitely out standing in its field. Oh fuck you, that was funny…
