Halloween 2020: October 10th

Wishmaster (1997)

I’ve mentioned my buddy JD many times before and not just because he co-hosted a misbegotten podcast with me. We’ve literally been friends since we were kids. And because we’ve always been horror nerds, and I’ve always been a pretentious know-it-all, we used to have arguments about the nerdiest shit. As an example!: Young JD was apparently unaware of the difference between what “directed by” and “presented by” meant. This is why, for quite some time, he thought Wes Craven directed “Wishmaster.” I have no doubt that creating this confusion was exactly the point behind all those “Wes Craven Presents” titles that cropped up in the late nineties. JD and I would also debate the merits of “Wishmaster” as a film. He liked it, I thought it was trash. And now, because we still bring this up every now and then, I’m going to review all the “Wishmaster” movies this October. Thanks, buddy. 

In Islamic belief, the djinn are beings born of fire, created at the same time Allah created humans and angels. This is the origin point for the wish-granting genie of modern pop culture. In "Wishmaster," one such djinn sought to trick humans into unleashing his magical race in the world by granting them deceptive wishes. A Zoroasterian sorcerer trapped the djinn in an opal. Thousands of years later, the opal is shattered when a fancy art dealer buys it. Now, the djinn continues his quest to merge the human and djinn realm, by twisting human wishes into cruel torments. He's especially focused on Alex Amberson, the appraiser partially responsible for freeing him.

"Wishmaster" was written by Peter Atkins, who also co-wrote a few "Hellraiser" movies, but it feels like a child wrote it. The central premise, of an asshole genie running amok, is gimmicky as hell but has potential. Instead, the film becomes a series of juvenile death sequences. The Djinn will run into a random character, who the film spends no time introducing or setting up. He'll goad them into making an obvious wish or statement. (Seemingly, none of them notice how blatant this manipulation is.) This wish/statement will then be twisted in the most literal way into a gory death scene. It's a cycle the film repeats about a dozen times. This is most hilariously shown in a scene where an airplane explodes, a moment that is never mentioned before or after. When not doing that, the script is laying lunk-headed exposition on the protagonist or attempting to build a mythology around its villain in the most stilted way possible. Alex has a traumatic incident in her past, an attempt to make us care about her, but it connects in no way with the film's themes... If "Wishmaster" can be said to have any themes at all. It's a movie that takes the phrase "Be careful what you wish for" and interprets it in the most boring way possible. 

In truth, "Wishmaster" is little but a series of special effects sequence strung together. This is unsurprising, since it was directed by experienced effects man Robert Kurtzman. Admittedly, some of these moments are kind of cool. During the opening chaos, a skeleton tears itself free of someone's body. People morph into trees or snakes. The big finale has a host of historical statues leaping to life, such as a Roman centurion or a Mogul archer, which is a fun idea. A man is also decapitated by some piano wires, one of the better random gags. Yet too often, "Wishmaster's" focus on special effects is distracting. Alex is chased by a weird monster in one scene. A gory shoot-out in a police station randomly has a jaw torn off. A character coughs up some sort of twitching bug thing. I like latex gore and monsters but this is all so senseless. Even more distracting is the truly abysmal CGI used in several scenes, which takes some potentially neat ideas - "you'll have to go through me," faces phasing through walls -- and just makes them embarrassing. Kurtzman's direction is generally tacky, featuring several obnoxious jump-scares or sloppy zooms. 

Something that could've saved an aimless effects reel like this was a cool villain. The Djinn, in his natural form, is cool looking and has the Movie Maniacs action figure to prove it. As an actual character, he's less compelling. Tough guy character actor Andrew Divoff speaks all his lame dialogue in an overbearing hiss, making every thudding one-liner sink like a stone. It's a delivery Divoff maintains even when out of make-up, which quickly becomes hilarious. Tammy Lauren gives a similarly overheated performance as Alex. Kurtzman packs the cast with recognizable horror stars. Kane Hodder, Tony Todd, Reggie Bannister, Ted Raimi, "Buck" Flower, Tom Savini, and Angus Scrimm all have cameos. All are welcomed presences but only an amusingly hammy Robert Englund gets much to do besides bluster before dying graphically.

As with all the "Wes Craven Presents" tittles, Craven was merely an executive producer on "Wishmaster" and probably had little to do with its development. I like to think he lent his name to the film as a favor to Robert Kurtzman, since the two worked together a number of times. While Wes directed many stinkers, it's good to know he didn't have his fingers too much in this one. I guess I sort of see the appeal of "Wishmaster," as I too enjoy some wacky special effects and fake blood. Yet the film's writing is too shallow to be involving, its approach too obnoxious to be entertaining, and its execution too competent to be bad-in-a-fun-way. I'm of the opinion that this particular genie probably should've stayed in the bottle. [4/10]

The Man Who Changed His Mind (1936)

We, as always, undervalue the influence of 1931's “Frankenstein.” Though we associate the decade most with dapper vampires in evening wear, the mad scientist was truly the stock horror villain of the thirties. This fascination was, of course, also a boon for the career of Boris Karloff. He played many insane men of science in the years after his trademark role. “Frankenstein's” influence even stretched across the sea. Five years later, Karloff would star in a British sci-fi/horror thriller called “The Man Who Changed His Mind.”

Up-and-coming brain surgeon Clare Wyatt leaves behind her boyfriend, Dick Haslewood, the son of a powerful newspaper magnet and academic. She is going to work with controversial scientist, Dr. Laurience. Laurience has discovered a method to remove the electric impulses from one brain – what you might call the mind or soul – and transplant them into another brain. Mind transfer, in other words. Through Dick, Laurience's work attracts the attention of Lord Haslewood, who funds his research at a college. After a humiliating public exhibition of his work, Haslewood cuts all ties with Laurience. As revenge, he transplant Haslewood's mind into that of his crippled assistant. This sets the scientist down a path of mind-swapping vengeance, soon fixating on Clare.

In many ways, “The Man Who Changed His Mind” is a typical mad scientist flick of its era. The story rolls in themes of brain surgery, electricity, and Freudian psychology, all hot topics of the time. The home Laurience works out of is excessively shadowy and cobweb-strewn. The newspaper story written about him is even headlined “Strange Experiments in Sinister Manor.” There's more than a few shots of Karloff's faces glowering in the darkness as electric equipment sparks around him. As the film goes on, Karloff grows more unhinged. There's a montage of Karloff's unhinged face as we see distressing memories play out around him, another hallmark of the time and genre. He even gets a speech about how everyone may think him mad but he'll show them otherwise. Laurience's wheelchair bound assistant is considered a total wretch, in mind and body, due to his disability. In the last scene, the mad scientist naturally realizes he meddled in areas men were not meant to know. “The Man Who Changed His Mind” hits most of the notes you'd expect. 

I, of course, absolutely love this shit. But I'm happy to report the film has more going on than just its adherence to stock tropes. Once Lauirence is moved out of his creepy mansion, the film becomes a surprisingly biting commentary on science versus commerce. Laurience's research is utterly groundbreaking, of course. Halsewood only picks him up because incredible scientific advances sells newspapers. He treats the doctor's work like a circus, putting up banners and advertisements for him. The minute Laurience might not be the moneymaker he seemed, Halsewood is ready to dump him. The scientist's revenge is motivated largely by being scorned by people who only understand dollar signs. “The Man Who Changed His Mind” treats its psyche-switching doctor more like an anti-hero than a villain, as Lord Halsewood is obviously an asshole. The film clearly is more sympathetic towards the scientist than the capitalist that seek to exploit him. 

What further makes “The Man Who Changed His Mind” special is its more off-beat elements. A streak of hot-blooded lustiness runs just under the surface. When Clare arrives as Laurience's manor, his manservant is utterly dismissive of her. More than once, Laurience refers to his bitter male partner as a “pervert.” Of course, the doctor immediately falls for the girl, her presence throwing off the homoerotic balance of his laboratory. Once he realizes his research has personal applications, Laurience immediately goes about plotting to put himself in a younger body, so the girl will desire him. Horniness, of course, motivates all great men. There's also a vein of campy humor in the film, in shots of the doctor playing with his chimpanzees or the rough-and-tumble assistant attempting to pass as the high society philanthropist. The sense of humor is reflected in the punning title. (Which was apparently too humorous for American distributors, who retitled the film “The Man Who Lived Again.”) 

“The Man Who Changes His Mind” is also far more clever in its writing than it had to be. A reveal about Lord Halsewood comes at just the right time. How Clare realizes Laurience is occupying her boyfriend's body is also set up perfectly. Director Robert Stevenson – who would later make “Mary Poppins” and a bunch of Disney's shopping cart movies – provides some satisfying atmosphere. “The Man Who Changed His Mind” would probably be considered slightly creaky, mildly predictable, and cliched by most. But I absolutely love this kind of stuff. If you have a taste for classic science-run-amok flicks too, definitely check out this underrated gem. [9/10]

Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1985): The Jar

1985 didn't just see the revival of “The Twilight Zone” and the much-hyped debut of “Amazing Stories.” Another iconic thriller anthology show would make a return to television screens. A new version of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” would premiere the same night as “Amazing Stories,” which was two nights after the new “Zone” started. Many of the episodes would remake installments from the 1955 series. Each one was introduced by colorized and digitally manipulated footage of Hitch. The new “Presents” wasn't as popular as the original, being canceled by NBC after one season. Like “The Hitchhiker” and “Ray Bradbury Theater,” USA Network would pick it up for two more seasons afterwards. The new version didn't attract the same level of talent as 1985's other anthology shows but the 20th episode of the first season, “The Jar,” was directed by a young up-and-comer named Tim Burton.

As with the original episode, “The Jar” is also adapted from a Ray Bradbury story. The country-bumpkins of Bradbury's text are switched out for the L.A. art scene. An sculptor named Knoll had some success in the past but critics are increasingly unimpressed with his work. That includes his girlfriend, who has become more biting and passive-aggressive. While looking for new material in a junkyard, he comes upon a mysterious jar full of glowing blue liquid, with something floating inside it. He presents the jar as his newest objet d'art and customers and critics are immediately fascinated by it. However, Knoll's troubles aren't quite over yet. 

Turning Bradbury's oddball story into a critique of the art world was a pretty clever idea. In fact, it makes a lot more scene that art critics would be way more fascinated by the titular object than backwoods sod farmers. The element of jealousy present in the original story also makes a lot more scene in this setting. The cast here is pretty strong, as Griffin Dunne has the right mix of pretentious squirreliness and nerdy sympathy needed for this part. I'm really surprised Paul Bartel, who appears here as a stuffy art critic, never worked with Tim Burton again. Bartel's trademark campy humor and stuffy authority figure bit would've been ideal for Burton's early work. You can see some of Burton's trademarks here. The thing in the jar has some black-and-white stripes on it and it looks a bit like the sculptures from “Beetlejuice.” Burton taking on the hypocrisy of the art world is certainly comparable to his opinion on suburbia. There's definitely some fun to be had with his take on “The Jar,” even if it's more funny than suspenseful. [7/10]

Forever Knight: Ashes to Ashes

For its penultimate episode, “Forever Knight” delves more into the origins of LaCroix. Nick's vampire dad receives a package at the Raven Club: A decapitated head in a box. It belongs to an Egyptian grave robber. A strange little girl calls and leaves a tip for the cops, Nick and Tracy rushing into the club to capture LaCroix. They end up letting him go because he didn't kill the guy. Instead, the murderer is Divia, LaCroix's daughter who turned him into a vampire just as Mount Vesuvius was burying Pompeii in ash over a thousand years ago. Two decades later, Divia attempted to seduce her own dad, which was too vile even for LaCroix. He decapitated her and stuck her in the tomb. She was so evil that she survived and is free again, determined to ruin her dad's life by killing everyone close to him. Including Nick. 

Most of “Forever Knight's” one-off villains are completely forgettable. Divia, however, easily ranks among the show's scariest baddies. It's not just the novelty factor of a little girl also being a ruthless villain. Or Kathryn Long's performance, which is suitably sinister. (Though, for an ancient Roman vampire, her pronunciation of “sorry' is very Canadian.) Divia is one of the few killers-of-the-week to make an impact on the show's lore. She adds a fittingly mythic quality to the story of LaCroix's vampire origins, tying him in with historical disaster and legendary taboos. His unwillingness to commit incest adds depth and complexity to Nick's already complex mentor/enemy. It shows that, as vicious as LaCroix is, even he has limits. 

Divia is also one of the few adversaries that actually poses a physical threat to Nick, as she's so old and powerful that she easily overwhelms him. She easily kills Urs, introduced in “Hearts of Darkness,” and basically takes down Vachon with little effort. It's a bit of a ennoble death for what was suppose to be a new major character, even if the writers rarely found anything interesting for Vachon to do. At least his subplot with Tracy ends on a kind of poetic note. That Nicholas ends up surviving his fight with Divia is a bullshit bit of writing, making the otherwise intense climax – a violent confrontation between LaCroix and his daughter – end on a weak note. Still, I enjoyed the resolution here. I wish “Forever Knight” had been this good more often, that it used its supporting cast and vampires' history better. [8/10]