It only occurred to me this week that I have yet to write about Sam Raimi’s “Drag Me to Hell,” which I saw weeks ago and never got around to reviewing in a timely fashion. I’ve had the artwork for whatever piece I was to conjur sitting here on my desktop, waiting for me to, you know, write the friggin’ words, but for whatever reason, the inspiration hasn’t hit.
Knowing me and my curmudgeonly self, you’d think that would be the result of the film not registering for me. After all, I pretty much dislike everything Raimi has ever done, save for “Spider-Man 2” and “For Love of the Game.” And yes, that includes the precious “Evil Dead” series that established his committed fan base over two decades ago. It’s that very same following that will no doubt flock to “Drag Me to Hell,” and they’re going to love what they see.
But no, my writer’s block has nothing at all to do with an aversion to the film. On the contrary, I was thoroughly entertained by nearly every minute of “Drag Me to Hell.” I think, perhaps, it has more to do with the idea of reviewing a film this fun being a real drag (pardon the pun). Who wants to ruin it with the usual analysis? But here I go…