Halloween 2023: September 26th

Subspecies (1991)

After the fall of the Soviet Union, Romanian producer Vlad Păunescu was eager to establish a film company in his native country, with an eye towards attracting Western productions. To accomplish this, he would team up with that purveyor of eighties and nineties genre schlock, Charles Band. This was the humble beginnings of Castel Films, which remains quite a successful business in Romania. (“Cold Mountain” and “The Nun” are perhaps their highest profile projects.) Yet the very first product of this partnership was the “Subspecies” series. Recycled from an unrealized idea Band had in the eighties called “The Subterreans,” the vampire movie would hit video store shelves in 1991. It quickly became a healthy success for Full Moon and Band, spawning perhaps the company's most beloved franchise that doesn't involve murderous puppets or toys. 

For centuries, the noble king of the vampires has kept the Bloodstone – a magical relic that produces blood, which the vampires won after protecting the Transylvanians from the invading Turks – from his wicked son, Radu. Finally fed up with waiting, Radu murders his dad and steals the stone. At the same time, a trio of college students – Michelle, Lillian, and Mara – arrive in Prejmer to study local history and folklore. They wander into Castle Vladislas, attracting Radu's attention. Michelle also develops a relationship with Stefan, Radu's virtuous and half-human brother. In order to spite his brother and consolidate his power, Radu sets his sights on turning the three girls into his latest brides. 

“Subspecies” does something that normally wouldn't work for me. It's a genre film very invested in its own mythology. We hear repeatedly about how the vampires helped saved the village from the Turks, from both the man renting the girls their room and a Roma medicine woman. There's much talk of the importance of the Bloodstone, though never quite a clear explanation of what it does exactly. Radu's rivalry with his handsome brother is talked up a lot as well. Normally, I'd roll my eyes at such attempts to get the audience to care about convoluted bullshit like this. Yet, by shooting in actual Romanian castles and villages, “Subspecies” manages to imbue its bullshit with a fitting mythic quality. When you have real folk customs happening, among genuine ancient locations, it goes a long way towards making your whispered-about backstory more plausible. 

It also helps that, in its best moments, “Subspecies” feels like it could be a Hammer film from the sixties. This is still clearly a Full Moon production. There's a little bit of sex and nudity. Radu creates some little, demonic minions from his own blood, filling the studios' quota for pint-sized terrors. Mostly, the writing recalls cheesy comic books. Stefan and Michelle immediately fall in love, despite knowing little about each other. Her friends are never defined much and the plot is fairly loose. Yet when you've got vampire girls lunging at a brave, old hunter or digging themselves out of their graves, it scratches a certain itch. “Subspecies” concludes with a strong sword fight between the vampiric brothers and puts some clever spins on the bloodsucking premises. Such as packing a shotgun full of Rosary beads as an improvised defense against the undead.

“Subspecies” can never quite overcome its low budget roots. The movie features several strange fades-to-black, as if it's a TV show. All three of the lead actresses give stiff performances. Yet director Ted Nicolaou – a veteran of Charles Band productions, by this point – does his best to elevate the material here. The shots of floodlights shining through the trees, against rolling fog, set the right mood. Brief shots of Radu's shadow cast on the floor, or the vampire rising from his dramatically lit casket to sulk around his castle, look great and fill that need for gothic dread. More than anything else, Radu proves to be a compelling horror villain. The “Nosferatu” inspired make-up is memorably grotesque. Anders Hove slithers and slinks through every scene, delivering all his dialogue in a raspy whisper that proves creepy. 

All of these components combined to make “Subspecies” a surefire cult classic. I'm not shocked that the same video store audiences that ate up Band's other Full Moon Pictures would turn this one into a small scale success too. Not quite as sturdy as the best “Puppet Master” movies, and quite far away from the movies Band made with Stuart Gordon in the eighties, it nevertheless has considerable charm. Like I said, a bad-ass looking villain and some nifty locations go a long ways. The stop-motion effects used to bring the little goblins to life are decent and the score is also surprisingly strong. Low budget schlock with aspirations of being slightly higher budgeted schlock, “Subspecies” still satisfies to this day. [7/10]

The Blackbird (1926)

The films Tod Browning and Lon Chaney made together are still among the most discussed movies of the silent era. “London After Midnight” remains an object of unlimited curiosity for classic horror fans and endlessly sought by cinema archivists. “The Unknown” might be the best work that both men ever did. While “London After Midnight” remains, and likely always will be, lost, a surprising number of their collaborations survive. Among the more overlooked of these collaborations, that doesn't get discussed nearly as much, is “The Blackbird.” While residing soundly to the crime and melodrama genres, I think I can make the argument that the 1926 7-reeler fits in nicely with this season.

Set in London's Limehouse district, Chaney plays Dan Tate, a notorious criminal known in the area as the Blackbird. The opposite of Dan in every way is his twin brother, a crippled and deformed man whose kindness and charity has caused him to be known as the Bishop of Limehouse. Unbeknownst to anyone, Dan and the Bishop are actually the same person. Dan poses as his own brother as a cover for his crimes. Dan is in love with Fifi, a performer in a music hall. A high-class gentleman thief named Bertam is also in love with Fifi, soon winning her heart. They go to the Bishop to get married, who reveals the truth of Bertie's profession to his bride-to-be. The thief promises to go straight but the Blackbird plots to discredit and destroy his romantic rival. 

“The Blackbird” fits snugly among Chaney's most famous films. Yes, this is yet another movie where the great silent star plays a crippled wretch that desires a woman who doesn't return his love. Much like “The Unknown,” Chaney is only pretending to be disabled, one among several secrets he keeps. As in “The Shock,” the film shows Chaney's ruthless criminal eventually softening towards the woman he cares about. Yet “The Blackbird” is possessed of a nicely grimy atmosphere, present from its opening shots of Limehouse's faces. The story is set among sleazy dance halls and crime ridden inns. The divide between the world Dan inhabits and the world Bertram lives in are sharply focused on throughout. This, in some ways, makes “The Blackbird” feel like a more gothic, socially conscious version of “The Penalty.” 

While the film lacks many of the obvious macabre features of Chaney and Browning's better known work, the central deception proves most interesting. While Chaney is ostensibly playing the same character, the Blackbird and the Bishop feel like two alternate personalities. The way he contorts his body, bending and twisting and hobbling on a crutch, represents a grotesque transformation of sorts. That the outwardly healthy Dan is the villainous one, while the physically decrepit Bishop is the virtuous personality, is an interesting idea. This proceeds an ironic twist at the climax – excuses spoilers for a 97 year old movie – where Dan is rendered actually disabled. This proceeds a tragic but hopeful ending, the ethical personality winning out. From this perception, “The Blackbird” becomes an intriguing variation on the “Jekyll and Hyde” formula.

Chaney, of course, is excellent. The scene when he decides to let Fifi go, realizing Bertie is the better man and has earned her love, is a great bit of subtle, touching physical acting that only Chaney could do. “The Blackbird” has a few, strong moments like this. Yet in order to get to them, you're going to have to sit through a lot of heavy-handed melodrama. Dan also has a regretful ex-wife, still trying to get him to change his wicked ways. The machinations of his villainous plot are a bit convoluted, with several important events occurring off-screen. The truth is, it's hard to care too much about any of this stuff. It feels like the drabbest, most lifeless type of silent film melodrama you can expect, far too typical of the time and place.

So it is with “The Blackbird,” a movie containing some fascinating ideas, a great central performance, and some cool ambiance inside some really lame bullshit. As you'd probably expect from a movie about Limehouse made in the 1920s, it's also kind of racist. A certain slur for Chinese people is thrown around casually. Ultimately, I guess it just depends on your tolerance for the unfortunate clichés of the silent era how much you'll be able to get out of this one. [6/10]

Cabinet of Curiosities: The Viewing

As “Cabinet of Curiosities” nears the end of its first season, the most buzz-worthy installments were saved for last, with Panos Cosmatos' “The Viewing” surely being one of the most anticipated of the lot. Set in 1979, it concerns a group of seemingly unrelated people being gathered together at the home of mysterious millionaire, Lionel Lassiter. They are music producer Randall Roth, expert in extraterrestrial life Charlotte Xie, successful novelist Guy Landon, and supposed telepath Targ Reinhard. Lassiter ushers the quartet into his elaborately designed home, alongside his equally eccentric physicist. The six of them talk about their field of expertise, listen to music, and are pushed into doing expensive drugs, before the millionaire reveals the purpose of this viewing. A very mysterious object sits in a near-by room and it's of interest to all of them.

If you've been familiar with all the various directors recruited for “Cabinet of Curiosities,” each episode certainly contained trademarks unique to each of them. Yet none of the installments have been nearly as distinctive as “The Viewing.” From the very opening minute, this is scored to chilly synth music. Esoteric topics like psychic phenomenon, alien life, ancient civilizations, and Muammar Gaddafi are weaved in and out of the script. As the party enters the mansion, we are presented to a pyramid like shot seemingly designed to fuck with Illuminati conspiracy theorists. The chamber most of the episode takes place in is a highly stylized set. It all ends in a kaleidoscope of psychedelic gore and mind-bending body horror. Much the same way “Beyond the Black Rainbow” and “Mandy” combined all of Cosmatos' influences – prog rock album covers, death metal, his dad's eighties action movies, drugs, Lovecraft, Cronenberg, Fulci – so does this hour long TV episode. Only Panos Cosmatos could have directed this. 

On a narrative level, there isn't much to “The Viewing.” Most of the hour is made up of people sitting in a circle, doing drugs and talking about some weird shit. Yet a hell of a cast is assembled here. Peter Weller, as Lassiter, delivers his stylized dialogue in a clipped, terse, slightly stoned cadence. Sofia Boutella's otherworldly quality is well utilized as his guru-like doctor. Steve Agee and Charlene Yi play to type, as a loud-mouthed and caustic braggart and an awkward nerd. Eric Andre, meanwhile, gives a surprisingly deep performance as a musician doubting his creative choices. Having such an accomplished cast and giving them some intriguingly weird dialogue to trade, within an insanely elaborate building, is absolutely enough to entertain me for an hour.

“The Viewing” isn't just composed of this round table conversation though. It does lead up to a bizarre climax, that explains little but certainly doesn't disappoint. While the exact nature of the otherworldly threat remains vague, as does the particularities of what it does. However, who can complain when there's an avalanche of intense gore and insane special effects unfolding on-screen? There's few visual metaphors for the mind-melting power of forbidden knowledge than literal melting faces and exploding heads. And the script totally makes the right choice about which of these characters deserve to survive. In other words, “The Viewing” is a stylistic triumph and an insanely entertaining hour of television. [9/10]

Chucky: Goin' to the Chapel

“Chucky” brings most of its lingering plot threads together in this penultimate episode, directed by John Hyams. Dr. Mixler makes a deal with Jake and his friends, shortly after Kyle, Nica, and Glenda show up at the school. Father Bryce agrees to perform an exorcism on the “Good” Chucky – which has been a ruse the whole time – so that the piece of the original Charles Lee Ray's soul in Nica can go back into the doll. The exorcism goes horribly wrong, especially when the corrupt nun rushes into the chapel with a gun to Lexy's head. Glenda gets a confrontation with her father, Andy seemingly finishes his business with the murderous doll, and it all seemingly wraps up... Until Jennifer Tilly and Glen arrive out front.

While I've been critical of “Chucky's” original characters throughout this season, “Goin' to the Chapel” does sneak in some good development in-between its bloody climaxes. Father Bryce does confession for each character before the exorcism, which Hyams shoots in moody black-and-white. This allows us to touch base with all the principal characters, even giving Bryce a surprisingly deep moment of backstory. This episode also resolves Lexy and Nandine's friendship is a surprisingly touching way. I'm honestly surprised at how good Alyvia Alyn Lind and Bella Higgenbotham's performances turned out to be in this scene. Glenda also has a confrontation with their doll dad that proves surprisingly potent as well. 

This is still an episode of “Chucky” though. There's plenty of cutesy reference to horror classics, “Silence of the Lambs” and “The Exorcist” obviously. Even as everyone confronts their relationship with the murderous doll, Chucky himself remains a mean bastard to the end. He schemes, swears, and murders people like he always does. It all leads up to a gloriously bloody climax that would've been a satisfying ending to this entire saga... Of course, it's not the end. An extended epilogue piles on some more twists, in order to set up one more episode. Yet it shows that “Chucky” can build towards cathartic moments when it wants to. 

Showing that cable TV stations can do almost whatever they want these days, as long as it airs after watermark hours, “Goin' to the Chapel” is also gloriously gory. It features at least two shockingly sudden bodily explosions, both of which are delivered with surprising blunt force. A knife to an eye and a slow motion dive through a hail of bullets are all some impressively bloody moments. John Hyams obviously excels at cinematic violence like this, making him a great choice to bring this hour to life. The subplot about the crazy nun thinking Chucky is Jesus was still completely useless though... [7/10]