Occasionally, but not often, while watching a film I get the impression that the filmmakers made this film specifically for me. It’s a great feeling when a film never seems to step wrong, remains pitch perfect and gives me the precise amount of exactly what I want. Such is the case with Alexandre Aja’s (High Tension) remake of Wes Craven’s seminal cult classic The Hills Have Eyes. And unlike most of the recent spate of horror remakes, this one lives up to and exceeds the quality of its namesake (The Amityville Horror did so as well, but with a much weaker film to top than Hills). How good is it? I'll be the first to admit that while I loved 90 percent of High Tension, I thought the ending was bullshit. Now, if you agree with me, take all the good parts of High Tension, and multiply them by a trillion and you'd come up with something that's roughly half as good as The Hills Have Eyes ‘06.

The plot is probably familiar even to people with a passing interest in horror. A family on a car trip through the New Mexico desert is stranded and as night falls they are besieged by a group of cannibalistic mutants who kill several members of the family and kidnap the baby to be utilized later as a midnight snack. The survivors must not only protect themselves but also find a way to save the baby. All this involves the usual Craven preoccupations: children without parental supervision, booby traps and none-too-subtle social commentary. It’s really nothing new; it wasn’t even that original in 1977 when the first The Hills Have Eyes came out. What set it apart from other drive-in exploitation films were the philosophicalunderpinnings Craven used. What’s wonderful about the remake is that the film more or less follows the same plot as the original, yet makes it seem new. Just enough is kept that it’s faithful to theoriginal, yet just enough is changed to keep fans on the edge of their seats.

Characterization usually tends to be a weak spot in genre films. Aja allows enough time at the beginning of the film for the family to develop into reasonably rounded figures so that when they start dying, we actually care about them and their eventual fate. The characterizations aren’t complex, but each is imbued with a distinct personality and motives so that the audience is able to immediately connect and relate to them. There are a couple of characters that meet ends so arbitrary and unfair that their deaths are actually upsetting. Some may find the beginning of the film a bit poky; they’re probably not paying enough attention. There’s fine, subtle character work on display in the opening sequences from newcomers Aaron Sanford, Vinessa Shaw, Emile DeRavin and Dan Byrd, as well as veterans Ted Levine, Kathleen Quinlan and Robert Joy. Nobody’s going to win any awards here, but their performances are better than they really need to be, and that makes a big difference.

And the gore! Holy shit, is this film gory! In interviews, both Craven and Aja assured fans that an unrated cut of the film would be made available on DVD. If hadn’t known this, I wouldn’t have been left wanting. This is, in my estimation, the goriest mainstream R-rated film ever. How the MPAA passed this with an R, I’ll never know, but I’m thankful that they were asleep at the wheel on this one (along with February’s Running Scared, this hopefully marks the beginning of a promisingly liberal MPAA). Shotgun suicide, human barbecue, severed fingers, pickaxe to the head; all the splatter bases are lovingly touched. If you have even a minor aversion to the wet red stuff, then stay away. However, if you’re a sick fuck like me, then Hills is just what the doctor ordered in a season of limpwristed, teen-targeted “horror” films (I’m looking directly at you When a Stranger Calls… yeah, fuck you).

It’s not just gore, though. There’s a genuinely creepy and unsettling atmosphere and a gritty tone to the film that most newer horror films lack. Take the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre; I loved it, but was perplexed as to why the filmmakers had shied away from the cannibalism of the original film. It’s such a motivating factor for the family and explains why they do what they do. Luckily, Aja and screenwriting partner Grégory Levasseur don’t shy away from the more unpleasant aspects of Craven’s original screenplay. This is so welcome after the blasphemous watering down of Romero’s Dawn of the Dead into a MTV-targeted action flick. If anything, they ratchet up the nastiness by a factor of 10. Not to give anything away, but the sequence that culminates in the mutants first appearance in the family’s trailer is disquieting in its ferocity and leaves the audience off balance for the rest of the film. It’s this knockout combo of character and atmosphere that really elevate Hills beyond the usual springtime junk that gets dumped in theatres.

The use of sound in Hills is extremely effective, especially in the “Daddy? Daddy?” scene. It’s a shame that more filmmakers don’t utilize the capabilities of surround sound more. Aja shows them just how it should be done; not only is it technically proficient, but the sound and the images complement each other. The surround effects would be useless if Aja didn’t create suspenseful images in the first place. That sequence is a perfect marriage of sight and sound and should become a textbook example for future genre filmmakers. It’s like having one of the mutants sitting behind you breathing down your neck and whispering in your ear. Really fuckin’ creepy.

There is little to complain about in Aja’s Hills remake, but there is something. It’s a tiny, niggling little complaint, so minor that I almost feel guilty bringing it up. But the "hero" music is poured on a little thick at the end. In two scenes. When you see them, you'll know what I mean. It kind of undermines the whole theme of the original film. The ending is not supposed to be a victory; to portray it as such is to betray the theme of the film. Luckily, it’s not too grievous an error and the film fades out on the proper note.

It's such a small thing, yet it keeps The Hills Have Eyes just a hair short of perfection. It's still an unqualified horror masterpiece, in my opinion. This film is a love letter from Alexandre Aja to the horror genre and horror fans. Sitting in the theatre, it was as if my mind had been read, projected on the screen and injected with steroids of kick-assery so that my wildest horror wet dreams were made flesh. They then proceeded to give me a hand job in the theatre. Walking out of the screening, my penis was literally sore.

Not surprisingly, I have a tough time imagining any horror film this year topping The Hills Have Eyes.