I'll take another Drag, please!

Drag Me to Hell is so much fun I almost cried. I saw it yesterday afternoon in a theater with six other individuals, most of them far older than myself.

I wasn't so sure about the movie during its opening, but as it develops and pushes its cartoonish boundaries, I was sucked in and overwhelmed. I haven't had such a physical response to a film in a while. I only jumped once. It's hard to make me jump, but a sudden reveal of a grotesque gypsy face was enough to do me in. I didn't ever really squirm, but I felt uncomfortable a few times. My primary response was one of laughter. I couldn't hold it in. I giggled. I chuckled. I guffawed. I had to hold my belly from the excitement of giant belly laughs. It pleased me that others in the audience were laughing as well (primarily the two older women sitting in front of me), but I know that my laughs were sometimes disproportionately louder than they should have been. I couldn't control myself. Yes, Brandon, the anvil gag is great and is the true turning point of this insane expression of no-holds-barred slapstick horror, but I almost wet myself during the seance scene. I lost it watching the man dance in the air over the table.

I'm not even arguing that Drag Me to Hell is a comedy, but it pleased and entertained me more than any recent comedies. I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to feel guilty or relieved.

The story obviously starts with a horrifying premise, but the tone is so boldly screwball that even when the horror is at its worst, I needed to smile.