'Final Destination: Bloodlines' impales in comparison
HANDOUT
The sick joke, of course, is that cheating death is only temporary. You’re briefly elated, then maybe afraid again.
This isn’t new. For 25 years (!), the “Final Destination” franchise (!) has claimed to create a kind of twisted, cathartic glee from increasingly elaborate nightmare fatalities. What began strongly as incidental accidents out of characters’ control — unavoidable while simply being in the world, alive — is now impossibly complicated and unlikely, absurdities that make people proud of themselves for citing Rube Goldberg while redirecting fear into comedy that clashes badly with the attempt to acknowledge how problematic it is to live a life constantly afraid to die. Because, in fact, perpetual, gruesome, squishy demises in which the wind is always blowing a marble into a wind chime that falls onto a lawnmower that drives onto a catapult and hits a helicopter (exaggerating, but only a little) would suggest that perpetual paranoid defense actually might be necessary.
All that’s to say that “Bloodlines,” the series’ first movie in 14 years, embraces the chance to be as unpleasant as possible without making you care in the slightest about anyone or even believe most of the CGI. It’s disgusting and ugly, exhausting and depressing, and at 110 minutes the longest “Final Destination” by far, which won’t make you wish for death but certainly could spark a question about why you’re spending time this way.
I get it; anyone excited about the continuation of this franchise may just want to squirm and squeal and be happy if everything is over the top and we can emerge back into an often-upsetting reality feeling like, “Well, it could be worse.” But directors Zach Lipvosky and Adam Stein refuse variety, forgetting about the palate-cleansing terror of a simpler death in favor of pummeling and punishing with crushed heads and total body smashes and shards on shards on shards.
Oh, the story: Stefani (Kaitlyn Santa Juana) tries to save her family from Death’s plan after she discovers how a premonition thwarted a massive tragedy and … you either could’ve assumed this already or don’t care or both. The story isn’t the point, and that results in a movie where you’re waiting impatiently for the lame chatter to end and then groaning about how repetitive and ridiculous the death sequences become. There’s no effort to consider things beyond the binary of removing yourself from society completely or ignoring all possible threats. So it’s hard not to be left at best cold and at worst angry when the next rush of blood from the head arrives. This is the end. Please.
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