Halloween 2020: October 27th

One Cut of the Dead (2017)

Kamera wo tomeruna!

As I said the other day, I'm pretty bored with zombie movies and this is not an uncommon opinion. Despite the obvious burn-out of the genre, people continue to find new takes on the undead genre. Last year, there was a minor controversy when a Japanese zombie flick called “One Cut of the Dead” was illegally uploaded to Amazon Prime. Basically, a bootleg copy of the film was made available, ahead of the film's official release, because Prime is that badly managed. Anyway, when “One Cut of the Dead” legally came out, it received a wave of positive notices. It seems like this is another one of those horror movies that even people who don't like horror movies enjoy. I'll admit, I was skeptical. About a year after its U.S. release, I'm finally catching up with this one and will see if it was worthy of the hype. 

In an abandoned water filtration plant, a crew is shooting a low budget zombie movie. The abusive director is frustrated with the lead actress' acting ability. Soon, mysterious events begin to happen, as the cast learn the plant is supposedly cursed. This proceeds an actual zombie apocalypse breaking out in the building. The director, finally satisfied with the performances, insists they continue shooting... That's when “One Cut of the Dead” starts over, showing us the production behind this zombie movie. It was shot entirely in one cut and broadcast live, forcing the beleaguered filmmaker – hired because he works cheaply and quickly – to improvise when things inevitably begin to go wrong.

“One Cut of the Dead” is essentially two movies in one. The thirty minute long zombie narrative that opens the film is, indeed, shot without cuts. (Or its cuts are, at the very least, cleverly hidden.) The handheld shooting style keeps moving constantly but is never sloppy, providing an infectious energy. The numerous chase scenes keep the adrenaline pumping, even continuing when blood splatters on the camera lens. The long take gimmick never becomes self-serving either, making the still images – like that final shot – especially memorable. The narrative spins in some unexpected directions, such as when a production assistant becomes unhinged and attacks the dead and the living. Or when the lead actress believes she's been bitten by a zombie, only to realize it's fake gore from earlier in the shoot. The fanatical director, excited by the terrifying scenario, is seemingly a commentary on a culture that values entertainment value over the crew's safety. 

The showbiz comedy around “One Cut of the Dead's” opening is also pretty good. There are several odd moments in the zombie movie segment. An actor will pause awkwardly. Or a gyrating zombie will wander back into a shot. At first, I just chalked this up to eccentric Japanese humor. Instead, the making-of segment shows that these oddball scenes were the result of behind-the-scene malfunctions. The radical shift in someone's personality is the result of the actress, the director's wife, getting too deep into her character. An effective shot of a zombie's leg stepping into frame was actually a clever way to disguise a message being delivered. The director has to juggle trouble – like an alcoholic actor or another actor getting diarrhea – with a demanding producer and a desire to create real art. The climax, where everyone comes together to get a key shot, is rather touching.

What makes this wild genre shift worth going along with is the likable cast director Shin'ichirô Ueda assembles. Most of the cast are, after all, basically playing two characters. Takayuki Hamatsu adapts a likable, sad-sack persona as Takayuki, the man tasked with making a live movie in one take. As “Takayuki,” the director of a zombie movie dealing with a real zombie outbreak, he's fittingly unhinged and manic. “One Cut of the Dead's” commitment to heartwarming antics extends to Takayuki's backstory. His daughter is also a would-be filmmaker, frustrated with her father's differing approach to storytelling. Naturally, the two have a heartfelt reunion by the end. I also enjoyed Harumi Syuhama as Takayuki's wife. The techniques she's learned in a self-defense class provides one of the film's best running jokes.

“One Cut of the Dead” is certainly entertaining. Its first act is well assembled and exciting. The rest of the movie is funny and charming. This is another one of those movies about the magic of movie making, of misfits coming together to overcome challenges and make the best piece of art they can. Yet, I'll admit, I was left wanting more. I kept waiting for a third turn to arrive, for the movie to grow even more meta by having an actual zombie outbreak occur during the behind-the-scenes comedy. At that point, “One Cut of the Dead” would be a movie about zombies showing up during the filming of a zombie movie about zombies showing up during the filming of a zombie movie. That was the sort of nesting doll approach I was expecting, given the praise this one received. Instead, “One Cut of the Dead”  is an exciting zombie movie short attached to a cute, if non-extraordinary, filmmaking comedy. [7/10]

Color Me Blood Red (1964)

When people talk about Herschell Gordon Lewis' Blood Trilogy, they usually talk about "Blood Feast" or "Two Thousand Maniacs!" The former is generally regarded as the first American gore movie and is historically significant for that reason. (Even if it's more valuable for its unintentional comedy these days.) The latter is generally regarded as the best, or "best" at least, of the three films Lewis made with David Friedman. "Color Me Blood Red," the final installment of the trilogy, is usually overlooked. Since I haven't indulged Lewis' particular breed of incompetent but charming filmmaking this Halloween season, I decided to give this one - which I've also never seen before - a spin.

Painter Adam Sorg is successful but not critically acclaimed, which causes him great frustration. His use of color -- or lack thereof -- is especially criticized. It has left him in a bad mood. After his girlfriend cuts her foot on a nail and bleeds on a canvas, Sorg is struck by the brilliant red color. After bleeding his own fingers dry, and having an argument with her, he murders his partner. Using her blood to complete a painting produces his most beloved work yet. He begins to murder other people, in order to wet his brush with their gore. But how much longer can Sorg get away with killing for art?

A Herschell Gordon Lewis movie always comes with certain precautions. No, don't expect it to function like a "normal" movie. "Color Me Blood Red" continues the - let's call it "unique" - approach to filmmaking seen in Lewis' previous horror pictures. The camera work is sloppy, swinging around to keep the actor's in frame. The movie visibly goes out of focus at least once. Largely, the film is shot in static poses, actors standing in one location and saying their lines. The dialogue is frequently goofy, delivered stiffly by the stilted performances. This is all just part of the charm when it comes to the blood-soaked dream worlds of H.G.L. But "Color Me Blood Red" is probably less charming than his previous films, because the scenarios are rarely as wild. The acting is also slightly more competent this time, limiting the ironic laughs some. Though there are still some amusingly baffling touches, like the repeated use of bizarre water bikes. Or the belligerent, repetitive way Sorg and his girlfriend - who always wears brightly colored leotards - talk with each other.

The film is also less violent then you might expect. The previous entries in the Blood Trilogy faced some blowback and censorship because of their outrageous content, making me wonder if Lewis and Friedman were intentionally dialing it back. Or maybe they were just out of ideas. It turns out there's only so many ways to paint with someone's blood. Aside from a hilarious scene where Sorg spears a water skier, most of the killing happens off-screen. There's an expected moment of him dabbing his brush in some entrails and a lurid, worm-faced corpse. But that's about it. Most of "Color Me Blood Red's" run time is devoted to teenage goofballs attempting to neck and sharing absurd dialogue. Which you can barely hear because the generic jazz score drowns much of it out.

"Color Me Blood Red" partially cribs its premise from Roger Corman's "A Bucket of Blood," a superior movie in every way. While Walter Paisley is a lovable loser, whose first few murders are at least understandable, Adam Sorg is an indefensible asshole. He heaps scorn on his girlfriend, gets drunk at the art gallery, and is rude even to the people who admire his work. Moreover, we never get a sense of why being a successful painter is important to Sorg. Does he yearn for critical acclaim? It's never really explained. Not that I was expecting a deep probe into the creative process from a H.G.L. gore-fest but at least his previous villains had actual motivations. Sorg seems to kill mostly because he likes the way blood looks in his paintings. The final scene suggests an attempt at a theme, that no art justifies pain and suffering, but it's too little, too late. If this is a sarcastic snipe at those that tried to censor Lewis' previous films, it's hard to say.

Granted, a half-ass approach is expected with Lewis. Yet the other two parts of the Blood Trilogy are a lot less boring than this one. I suspect Lewis and Friedman might've been a little out of ideas. Their partnership would dissolve after this one, as Friedman thought the gore movie market was going to dry up. While Lewis would briefly shift gears to other weirdo genres, he would eventually come back to gore films, which was clearly his favorite genre. Maybe the break was necessary to recharge his twisted imagination. With fewer laughs, and no reason to relate to the villain protagonist, "Color Me Blood Red" is left as a largely tedious experience. [5/10]

Monster from the Ocean Floor (1954)

Halloween is all but here and I somehow haven’t talked about Roger Corman. While Corman would come to fame for directing and producing at American International Pictures, his story doesn’t start there. He started in the mail room at 20th Century Fox, worked his way up to script reader, and left after receiving no credit for the input provided on “The Gunfighter.” On his own, he successfully sold a script — which became “Highway Dragnet” — for 2000 dollars. This would provide the foundation for Corman’s first venture as producer. Collaborating with Wyott Ordung, making his directorial debut after writing “Robot Monster,” Corman would scrap together enough funds for “Monster from the Ocean Floor.” The budget was no higher than 30,000 dollars and might’ve been as low as 12,000. Either way, Ordung and Corman shot the whole movie in a week. The story behind “Monster from the Ocean Floor” is fascinating but what of the actual movie?

Julie, a painter, is hanging out on a beach in Mexico. A little boy tells her that his dad was eaten by a sea monster but she goes for a swim anyway. That’s when Julie literally bumps into Steve, a marine biologist in a one-man submarine. He soon invites her back to his research boat. They help local fisherman look for a missing man but only find his empty diving suit. Julie is convinced the monster is responsible but Steve remains skeptical. As he leaves on a research trip, Julie discovers more evidence that a cycloptic monster stalks the cove. With some help from superstitious locals, she’ll soon come face-to-face with it. 

“Monster from the Ocean Floor” features maybe the most hilarious awkward romance I've ever seen in a movie. Mere minutes after meeting her, Steve is blabbering at Julie about marine biology. Instead of being put off, this piques her interest. Only a minute after that, he's goading her into coming back to his boat. They travel by her clinging to the outside of his submarine. Ladies, please: Do not go swimming in the ocean with a strange man you just met. Once on the boat, Steve and his buddies blabber about the ocean more, Julie somehow still being interested. Despite only knowing each other for hours, Steve immediately feels compelled to tell this woman what she can and can't believe. They've known each other less than a day when he's serenading her with love songs on the beach. The frequently stilted dialogue draws attention to how fucking weird this courtship is. The straight faced acting from leads Anne Kimbell and Stuart Wade makes this alien's-version-of-human-romance even funnier.

Furthermore, Julie is clearly not the kind of girl who is easily impressed or led on. She's steadfast in her beliefs in the monster, despite Steve's constant refusal to take her seriously. She even fights off a shark in one scene. After he skidoos, she begins interviewing local people and researching the matter itself. The scenes in “Monster from the Ocean Floor” devoted to the Mexican villagers talking about the monster are actually somewhat interesting. A drunken fisherman relates a frightening encounter with the one-eyed beast. An old woman mournfully discusses how she believes the creature ate her dog. Even though nuclear radiation is eventually credited with creating the thing, I like how these scenes make the monster seem like a cryptozoological legend the locals have lived with for years. Sadly, that fun buzz is killed when the film indulges in racist stereotypes, making the villagers worshipers of Aztec gods determined to sacrifice the pretty blonde to appease the monster. Unfortunate jungle movie cliches like that feel very out-of-place in this story. 

Despite these mildly interesting quirks, “Monster from the Ocean Floor” is otherwise a fairly dull creature feature. The monster is a wiggling octopus-like beasty with a giant, glaring gold eye. That's cool but it's only actually in two scenes, murkily depicted lurking through the blurry waters. As you might expect, there's lots of scenes of people diving, swimming, or submarining through the dark waters. It grows tedious quickly. The scene speculating about the monster's origins – including a bizarre digression about pterodactyl eggs – introduces a way to defeat the beast.... Which the movie doesn't follow up on! Instead, Steve gently nudges the giant amoeba to death with his tinker-toy submarine. 

Despite its underwhelming content, “Monster from the Ocean Floor” far out-grossed the meager amount Corman and company spent on it. The film's success encouraged Corman to try directing himself and he directed his first film – a western called “Five Guns West” – the next year. That film was picked-up by American Releasing Company, which would soon morph into A.I.P., where Corman would have his most creatively fruitful years. Honestly, a movie about the making of “Monster from the Ocean Floor,” or at least a section about it in a biography about Corman's life, would probably be more interesting than the actual film. It's a totally stock-parts fifties monster movie, intriguing only for its weirdo writing and the stellar B-movie legacy that it would launch. Honestly, I'm really surprised this film never appeared on “Mystery Science Theater 3000,” as its short runtime, long dialogue-free stretches, and odd touches makes it ideal for riffing. [5/10]

The Coatmaker (2018)

“The Coatmaker” is the most traditional of the horror shorts from Alter I’m watching this year but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. A coat maker toils in his shop late at night. That’s when a text message reminds him he has a prior engagement. As he exits through the dark shop, a mannequin comes to life and attacks him. The faceless plastic form stops moving whenever the lights are on. The problem is the light switch is on a timer and his keys are on the floor across the room.

Yes, “The Coatmaker” mines familiar elements for fear. This is, I think, the fourth thing I’ve watched this season that plays on the inherent creepiness of mannequins. “The Coatmaker” uses the extra-creepy faceless variety of mannequin, which also brings Slender Man to mind. A monster that is still under one condition but dangerous under another is also a common troupe among Internet creepypastas. As common place as “The Coatmaker’s” frights are, they are also deployed effectively. The dark blue photography of the coat shop is moody. Director Scott Dale uses well worn concepts to generate suspense. Like turning up the volume on the scary music when the mannequin is shuffling forward. Or setting up early that the light switch is on a timer or the coat maker’s cell phone battery is low. Yet these cliches are definitely well used here, making “The Coatmaker” an amusingly tense four minutes. [7/10]