A couple of days ago, I was talking about what a low-budget monster movie like “Equinox” is doing in the Criterion Collection, that prestige label usually dedicated to art house cinema and timeless classics. Criterion has put out plenty of “classy” horror movies too but it really does seem like someone at the Collection has a soft spot for cheesy B-movies. They've given the top-shelf treatment to “The Blob,” some late period Boris Karloff movies, “The X from Outer Space,” and the subject of today's review: “Fiend Without a Face.” The essayist at Criterion laud Arthur Crabtree's1958 monster movie for its “surrealism” and “pulp metaphors.” Which may be taking it too far but this cult classic does have a certain weirdo power that makes it stand out from the rest.
Somewhere in the Canadian countryside, near a U.S. radar installation, people are dying in a most mysterious way. The brains and spinal cords have seemingly been sucked out of each victim's skull. Major Jeff Cummings is sent in to investigate. He soon meets Professor Walgate. Walgate has been researching the power of the mind. A horde of invisible monsters, the creatures responsible for the deaths, swarm the building. Cummings, Walgate, his comely female assistant and several other people are trapped inside. Walgate soon reveals that he created the monsters – living thought projections – through the power of his own mind. These faceless fiends have been super-charged by the radar station's nuclear reactor. Who will survive the night?
By the time the monsters show up, they are really appreciated too. The first half of “Fiend Without a Face” is pretty slow. A lot of time is devoted to Major Cummings – played by Marshall Thompson, your typical stout-chinned fifties sci-fi movie leading man – investigating the mystery. This leads to scenes of him getting into a fist fight with some random guy and a long sequence where he's locked inside a tomb. How exactly those digressions contribute to the overall story, I can't remember right now. He also flirts gratuitously with Kim Parker, who is introduced in nothing but a bath towel. It's not unusual for movies of this type to be padded out, on the way to the monster mayhem, but I definitely felt it here.
“Fiend Without a Face” is a bit slow-going at first but the oddball monster mayhem of the last act totally justifies anything that came before. Unsurprisingly, those leaping brain beasts made an impression on horror nerds of a certain age. This has led to several attempts to remake the movie. Roy Frumkes, director of “Document of the Dead,” has been trying to produce a new version since 2010. At one point in time, Lucky McKee was attached to direct a remake written by Adam Gierasch and Jace Anderson. McKee personally told me that his vision was “too outlandish for folks to get their heads wrapped around.” Until the remake materializes, like a thought projection, the original remains a somewhat unique monster movie. I don't know if it deserves to sit next to “Black Narcissus,” the next spine number up in the Criterion Collection, but I enjoy it nevertheless. [7/10]
The Creature Feature series really did hire some interesting talent to direct their cheapie monster movies. Taiwanese-American auteur George Huang had begun his career with “Swimming with Sharks,” a critically acclaimed Hollywood satire that gained a lot of buzz in 1994. After that, Huang made 1997's “Trojan War.” If you've never heard of that movie, that's because it held the record for lowest box office gross ever for some time. The movie made $309 dollars after playing in one theater for one week. Understandably, that's the kind of flop a career has trouble bouncing back from. Still, one assumes it did raise the prestige of the Creature Feature project to have a filmmaker that could've once been called an indie darling involved.
Clayton Software has a problem: Test players have deemed their latest in-development video game, “Evilution,” hopelessly lame and un-scary. A new team of developers – extremely nerdy sound expert Bug, aggressively edgy weapons specialist Hardcore, and pretentious A.I. developer Sol – are brought in to overhaul the complete beta in just four months. Whoever comes up with the scariest monster will earn a million dollar bonus. Business Peter Drummond and overworked intern Laura are tasked with keeping these eccentric developers on task. A workable prototype is completed, with Sol providing advanced A.I. for the game's villain. After lightning strikes the facility, the program becomes self-aware and uploads itself to the motion-capture rig. Still thinking it's playing the game, a murderous robotic demon is unleashed through the building.
There are some attempt to add depth to these ridiculous characters caught in this absurd situation. Laura is the sole likable character in the film. The ever-lovable Clea DuVall plays the role and somehow maintains her dignity. Even though the final scene provides a deeply cynical and mean-spirited resolution for her character, punishing you for even halfway liking her. Laura has an abusive ex-boyfriend, played in an uncredited Danny Masterson in a presumably autobiographical cameo. I guess that provides her motivation, for when she emerges as the movie's hero, but its a subplot that ultimately goes nowhere. The script also makes repeated references to corporate espionage and spying, a plot point that pays off in a truly underwhelming fashion. All of this is aside from the movie's total disregard for the facts of game development and computer technology.
Ya know, it's a shame “How to Make a Monster” sucks. I think a horror movie about dev crunch has potential. Yet awful characters, abrasive comedy, absurd writing, flat television-style direction, and some questionable special effects makes this a largely worthless motion picture. Predictably, this film did not help Huang's career much. He's directed a bit of TV, written a few movies, and done some producing and creative consulting. (It helps that he's friends with Robert Rodriguez.) Most recently, he was developing “Swimming with Sharks” into a Quibi series, a doomed endeavor. “How to Make a Monster” remains, as of this writing, his final feature film directing credit. I feel sorry for him and everyone else who worked on this embarrassingly bad movie. [4/10]
It was destined to live in the shadow of the original but the 1985 version of “The Twilight Zone” tried its best to be memorable. Mainly by inviting a lot of notable talent to work on it. The very first episode was directed by Wes Craven, featured a script by Harlan Ellison (making his second appearance this Halloween), and starring Bruce Willis. Advertising exec Peter Jay Davis sits at a bar, waiting for a date. He picks up the phone to call her and, accidentally, calls his own number. Shockingly, another version of himself answers the call. The second Peter assures the first one that he is improving on his life. The first Peter grows sicker as the second one makes more ethical choices. Eventually, they meet in a hotel room.
The Ellison short story that inspired “Shatterday” has a perfect premise for “The Twilight Zone.” It's the kind of narrative hook that immediately grabs you but is rift with deeper readings. What would you do is another you answered the phone? “Shatterday” handles this as a personal crisis. One Peter begins to improve the moral decisions in his life. He patches things up with his sickly mother, reaches out to an ex he mistreated, and rejects an ethically dubious job. The other Peter responds by trying to financially cut off the copy's revenue stream. The episode takes the idea of our better nature and baser instincts being opposed to each other very literally.
Let's talk a little bit about the midnight spook show. A spook show is when a movie theater would show a succession of spooky programming with on-stage antics. They were a combination of midnight screenings, magic tricks, seances, and live make-up demonstrations that almost always climaxed with actors in monster costumes running through the audience. This makes it something of a predecessor to the modern Halloween haunt business. Briefly popular in the fifties and sixties, spook shows would be extinct by the start of the seventies and left little impact on pop culture... Though odd relics remain of their existence. Like “Monsters Crash the Pajama Party,” a thirty minute presentation meant to play alongside typical spook show antics.
“Monsters Crash the Pajama Party” tells the story of a group of sorority girls who have to spend the night in a spooky old house. Unbeknownst to them, a mad scientist – assisted by a gorilla and a hunchback – operates out of the basement. He abducts the girls and attempts to turn them into gorillas and monsters. Luckily, their boyfriends appear to save the day. Truthfully, this “plot” is nothing but a loose framework to hang a series of gags on. Some of these moments are blatantly comedic. Like a girl's head having a “Cut here” line on it, a werewolf dropping his pants, or an old woman calling to complain about the content of the film. Other moments have the appearances of jokes – such as the opening credits where the gorilla acts out the various roles – without containing any humor.
Of course, “Monsters Crash the Pajama Party” isn't really a movie anyway. It's an interactive presentation made for a rowdy, teenage audience. The movie begins with the mad scientist talking directly to the audience. Certain moments in the film were meant to cue reactions. The gorilla holds up signs with onomatopoeia on them, presumably triggering various gags in the theater. When the fratboys put on Halloween masks, I suspect audience members were intended to do the same. Most prominently, at the end, the scientist commands his minions to run into the theater and grab some new girls. That's when costumed performers rushed into the crowds. As a movie, “Monsters Crash the Pajama Party” is fairly tedious. As a historical artifact from a bygone era, it's fascinating. [6/10]
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