Leprechaun (film review)
When writer/director Mark Jones unleashed his diabolical and zany interpretation of Irish folklore in 1993's titular titled Leprechaun, the world took notice, and for good reason. It defied the audience's expectations, which were, by and large, defined by the likes of A Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, and Child’s Play. Studio executives, in fact, urged Jones to pen a much darker script, one closely resembling a slasher, but he wanted to do something different, using comedy to lessen some of its more gruesome moments, and by centering the core of the story around a leprechaun. Surprisingly, no one had done that. The result was a box-office success, pulling in $8.6 million, with a budget of just $1,000,000. Most impressive yet, Leprechaun spawned six sequels, one prequel in 2014, aptly called Origins, with talks of a reboot sometime—hopefully—in 2024.The franchise's cult-like status is a testament to the unique vision of Mark Jones, and the overwhelming power of great storytelling and good acting.
**
“Ahhh….try as they will, and try as they might, who steals me gold, won’t live through the night.”
The premise should've been simple: find the person who stole his gold and bring it home to its rightful owner.
But life is rarely easy, and thankfully, Mark Jones doesn't make it that way. I appreciate that the writer doesn't seem to give preferential treatment to either protagonist or villain, and both parties make their fair share of mistakes and smart moves. Not only is this a a good strategy resulting in unpredictability and truly some of the zaniest moments I've seen in horror, but it further solidifies that otherworldly sense of reality. Which sounds a little strange and disingenuous, given that the villain is a leprechaun, but Jones inexplicably makes it work.
From the captivating prologue to the mostly satisfying conclusion, watching Jones’ film debut was a blast, through and through, and I doubt it would've been half as fun if he'd followed the typical horror blueprint: an all-encompassing escalation of violence and terror. Part of it, particularly the second half, are quite graphic, admittedly, but Leprechaun is suffused with slapstick antics, witty dialogue, and a lot of passion. It was never over-the-top, but calculated, classy, and ultimately believable. But, I'd be remiss if I didn't admit my very slight disappointment that it wasn’t as dark and graphic as I was expecting. At the same time, though, I really can’t imagine any other version than the one we got.
Aside from the well-executed dread and swiftly moving action, my favorite aspect was the character exploration, and the ease with which the actors and actresses dug deep and gave the best performances they could. Not surprisingly, I had the most fun watching the incomperable Warwick Davis as the eponymous villain, but some stand-out performances came from a young Robert Hy Gorman (whom I’d previously seen in Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead and Rookie of the Year,) John Voldstad, Ken Olandt, and of course, twenty-four-year-old Jennifer Aniston. Leprechaun served as her breakout role, with Friends premiering just a year later. Out of all the characters, Aniston’s Tory showed the most growth and maturity, as she went from a snobbish daughter to her doting father (John Sanderford,) to a caring and non judgmental person. Speaking of Sanderford, I wish we’d seen more of his character. I undertstand why he didn’t have very much screen time, but it would’ve been nice to see a hospital visit scene or something to that effect. My favorite character, though, was the simplistic Ozzie, played by prolific Mark Holton. The scenes between him and Gorman’s Alex were very touching and displayed genuine friendship. I loved them most of all.
“Alex, do you think you could kill a leprechaun?”
“Ozzie, you can kill anything. You just got to know how to do it. Now, me, give me a .357 magnum, press it to the little green critter’s temple, and blam! Brains and guts and oozing cruddy stuff dripping all down its head. The guy is gone with a capital dead.”
Ozzie’s question is an earnest one. In fact, it’s one of the more serious scenes in the entire film, and it adequately sets up everything that follows. The overly simplified conversation between these adorable best friends serves as yet another reminder that life and horror are rarely—if ever—that easy, and I can’t help but wonder if their conversation was Mark Jones’ subtle way of reminding the audience that maybe the outcome wouldn’t as easy or straightforward as they thought, or were perhaps only hoping for. Said mentality wasn’t exclusive to Alex and Ozzie, either. To some extend, even pragmatic Nathan and Tory seemed to operate under similar belief systems. Whether that false sense of security was intentional or not, the strategy was an effective one, and I was all for it.
Despite knowing, in the back of my head, that the final culmination couldn’t possibly be that easy, realizing those things made Leprechaun a more rewarding and fun movie watching experience. Another aspect that the back half improved upon was the frequent display of increased horror violence, and the creativity necessary for a couple of memorable kills. Those two elements alone went a long way.
Nevertheless, a part of me still thought the end would result in a somewhat darker and disturbing turn of events, resulting in a larger body count. Those aren’t criticisms. Not really. More than anything, they were products of the early 90s; a time that presaged the much darker and disturbing nature of the horror film that we know today. Despite my conflicting opinions, I loved the role that Ozzie played in the final scene, and the recurring theme of faith that Mark Holton brought to the screen.
In closing, I thought I’d emphasize a few examples of the great dialogue, because it was a great example of life-like conversations being the glue that brought everything together in a very convincing and natural way. Leprechaun wouldn’t have worked nearly as well if not for the writer’s exceptional understanding of dialogue and of human nature:
“This old Lep, he played one. He played pogo on his lung;”
“Help. Help. It's happening. The attack is on. O'Grady farm. Uh, send help. The leprechaun is attacking. Army, navy, guns, marines. And we're gonna need some medicine;’
“For what?”
“ To make you smart. See we can go to the hospital and have them operate and fix your brain;”
“ I did a smart thing. I did a smart thing, didn't I?”
“You're really smart, Ozzie. You just hang in there, okay?”
“Hey, Alex... What's that?”
“Gotcha. First time I ever got you.”
“You sure did, Ozzie.”
Rating: 4/5 stars