Halloween 2023: September 27th

Burn, Witch, Burn (1962)

Re-titling movies for foreign markets might be a bit of a lost art, at least in America. Back in the exploitation movie days of the sixties and seventies, it was really common. One such example: The 1963 Anglo-Amalgamated production, “Night of the Eagle,” was released on U.S. shores as “Burn, Witch, Burn!” Much like the previously reviewed “Night of the Big Heat/Island of the Screaming Damned,” this is a good example of American marketers realizing that we have no use for the subtly and tact that the British value here in this country. As for the movie itself, it is an adaptation of Fritz Lieber's “Conjure Wife” – formally filmed in 1944 as “Weird Woman” – from two renowned authors of the weird in their own right, Richard Matheson and Charles Beaumont. Overlooked for decades, the film has slowly gathered a reputation as a hidden gem in recent years.

Norman Taylor has recently begun teaching psychology at a prestigous British university. Though he and his wife, Tansy, have made friends with several of his colleague, he remains a controversial appointment at the school. Norman believes strongly in logic and reason but his wife, after a frightful encounter in the Caribbean, has developed an interest in witchcraft. When he burns the omens and symbols of protection she's created, bad luck begins to fall upon the household. A student accuses Norman of rape, her boyfriend threatens to kill him, he's involved in a nearly fatal car accident, and Tansy is only acting stranger and stranger. Might there be more to witchcraft and curses than the rational man first assumed? 

One of the most commonly revisited themes in horror is that of rationalism versus superstition. Being the genre it is, too often, stories like this usually have a skeptic being punished for questioning the supernatural. Or, alternatively, they'll go the “Scooby-Doo” route and dismiss all otherworldly events all together. “Burn, Witch, Burn” finds a satisfying balance between these two extremes. Norman's dismissal of the uncanny is what motivates the plot and the film comes down, fairly firmly, on the side of magic being real by the end. Yet “Night of the Eagle” seems to grapple more fully with the question of belief. Are the spells and curses Tansy practices really real? Or does she believe in them so much that they might as well be real? Even during the more explicitly paranormal events, most of what happens in “Burn, Witch, Burn” is explainable through hysteria or pure chance. This raises the question of what “magic” truly is. The powers of the human mind are more than enough to make anything seem real. Our ability to assign meaning and significance to events and the quirks of the mind, through ritual and superstition, is all the magic that needs to exist.

Furthering this theme of psychological shadows making the fantastic real, “Burn, Witch, Burn” features effectively moody and intense visuals. Cinematographer Reginald Wyler – who coincidentally also shot “Night of the Big Heat” – often focuses on the character's faces. The opening credits play over an image of Janet Blair's blinking eye, which proceeds a dreamy POV shot later in the film. The interiors always seem cramped, creating a sense of unease between the characters before anything weird begins to happen. Tracking shots of hands or pistols further this sense of being watched. The frequent placement of a prominent eagle statue overlooking everyone makes it seem like an ominous overseer even before it springs to life in the last act. Shot in striking black-and-white, “Burn Witch Burn” really goes out of its way to wrap the audience up in its paranoid ambiance. 

Continuing its theme of the power of the human mind, director Sidney Hayers and Beaumont/Matheson's screenplay reveals something just as insidious as witchcraft behind the story's events: Resentment among co-workers and the strangled passion of campus life. Though Norman and Tansy are ostensibly accepted among their peers, neither can escape this feeling that they are both outsiders. This becomes especially evident after the professor is accused of assault by a student with a crush on him. All throughout the script, there's this idea of wants and passions deferred by the bounds of professionalism. When this is revealed as the motivating factor for the film's actual antagonist, it falls right in line with the film's worldview. Magic may or may not be real but emotions pushing humans to extreme actions and beliefs is undeniable. 

An uncommonly smart screenplay and some deeply glowering photography allows “Burn, Witch, Burn/Night of the Eagle” to build towards a nicely intense finale. The film is not as well known as the work Matheson and Beaumont did on “The Twilight Zone” but it's of a similar pedigree, ironic twist coming seconds before the final shot included. (And it's easily superior to “Weird Woman,” though that one's not bad either.) Hayers only made a few more movies you could call “horror,” mostly spending the rest of his career in television, which is a bit of a shame. He clearly showed an aptitude for it with this one. By the way, both titles are equally appropriate. The U.S. title is actually a line of dialogue spoken during a fiery event, falling in line with a story about witchcraft. The British title, meanwhile, accurately describes the climatic sequence. I think you can fairly say that night belong to that eagle. [8/10]

Bloodstone: Subspecies  II (1993)

In the early nineties, the booming video store market allowed low-budget producers to build long-running franchises off of fluke successes. (As long as the movies could be filmed in commercially viable places like South Africa or Eastern Europe.) This is why they made so many sequels to “Kickboxer,” “The Howling,” and similarly themed motion pictures. Nobody took more advantage of this than Charles Band's Full Moon Pictures. Clearly, “Subspecies” was a big enough hit for the company to expand on it the way they did the “Puppet Master” and “Trancers” series. Band had such confidence in the vampire saga – which surely had something to do with lucrative deals he made with Romanian partners – that second and third Radu adventures would be filmed back-to-back. “Bloodstone: Subspecies II” would appear on video store shelves in 1993.

Seemingly minutes after the end of the first “Subspecies,” Radu recapitates himself. He immediately takes his revenge on his brother, Stefan, and sets about making Michelle his fledgling. She escapes with the Bloodstone, making it to the near-by city of Bucharest. Michelle's sister, Rebecca, soon arrives in Romania, in search of her sister. While Michelle struggles with her new vampiric desires, Radu teams up with his mother – a mummified witch – in retrieving the Bloodstone and fully bringing Michelle over to the dark side. Rebecca teams up with a local American law enforcement officer and a professor of Transylvanian lore to find and save her sister before it's too late. 

Even more-so than the first movie, “Bloodstone” represents an interesting blending of two styles of horror. This is a Full Moon movie, through and through. There's outrageous gore – like Radu staking his brother and drinking from the fountain of blood that escapes – and gratuitous shower scenes for both of its leading ladies. Having Radu's mom be a literal mummy is exactly the kind of goofy, comic book elements you expect from a Full Moon movie. And yet “Subspecies II” clearly represents an attempt to court the goth/vampire subculture that was flourishing at the time. As in “The Hunger,” Michelle frequents a club where a gothic metal band moans on-stage. Much emphasis is placed on Michelle's angst from being a vampire, regretting her desire to drink blood and her attempts to hold onto her humanity. She does all of this while looking very glamorous in fancy dresses. Meanwhile, Radu attempts to temp her to the side of evil. The eternal beauty but endless agony of being a bloodsucker were such common themes in vampire fiction at the time. “Subspecies II” fits right in.

Much like the first “Subspecies,” “Bloodstone” was shot in the actual Transylvanian region of Romania, utilizing many genuine historical locations. Castles, tombs, and relics ancient with authentic age is the kind of production values that can't be made in any studio. The sequel takes place in the urban location of Bucharest, making great use of the gorgeous scenery and architecture. A glass coffin Michelle sleeps in just the most notable example of a nice production values this location afford the film. Director Ted Nicolaou and cinematographer Vlad Paunescu further attempt to elevate the movie with some shadowy visuals. “Subspecies II” gets a lot of mileage out of Radu casting his grasping shadow, massive and ominous, on stone walls. 

What truly makes “Bloodstone” superior to the first film is a surprisingly strong cast. Anders Hove as Radu, speaking solely in a raspy whisper while under grotesque make-up, remains an unforgettable horror villain. Denice Duff steps into the role of Michelle, replacing Lauren Tate from the first film and being a noticeably improvement. Duff projects vulnerability, while seeming to believe totally in the script's overheated melodrama. She's also a creditable seductress, when called upon to be a slinking vampire babe. Melanie Shanter – yes, Captain Kirk's daughter – is a likable co-heroine and has strong chemistry with Kevin Spiritas, as the inexplicably American cop in Bucharest. The movie also earns a lot of points for filling out its supporting cast with quirky characters. Like a Bucharest detective obsessed with American cop shows or a lovably eccentric folklorist, an exposition spouting role truly brought to life by Michael Denish.

I could never go so far as to refer to “Subspecies II” as “classy.” Very few Full Moon movies rose above the juvenile sensibilities of monsters, babes, blood, puppets, and boobs. Yet the crew of “Bloodstone” really tried their damnedest to elevate the goofy, melodramatic mythology it builds around its vampire shenanigans. The movie looks surprisingly good, the cast works way harder than necessary, while the script remains fast-paced. Ultimately, it's a highly entertaining slice of monster movie nonsense. To further that comic book feeling, the movie ends on a cliffhanger that will lead us right into “Subspecies III.” As if to say “Come back next month for more chilling tales, boils and ghouls!” It's hard not to love that... [7/10]

Cabinet of Curiosities: The Murmuring

The first season of “Cabinet of Curiosities” concludes with an episode from Jennifer Kent, her much anticipated return to the horror genre since “The Babadook.” To make it all the more exciting, Essie Davis starred in this hour as well. “The Murmuring” follows Nancy and Edgar Bradley, celebrated ornithologists. They have traveled to an isolated Scottish island to studying the murmurations – elaborate flock formations – of the local dunlins. The Bradley's marriage has gone frigid since the death of their daughter, which Nancy refuses to discus. Staying in the quiet home, the dunlins strangely roosting in the attic, Nancy begins to see and hear strange things. As the haunting grows in intensity, Nancy digs into the home's past and uncovers its buried secrets.

Guillermo del Toro has spoken, at lengths, of his admiration of the English ghost story. He has put his own spin on the genre with “The Devil's Backbone” and “The Orphanage.” “The Murmuring” represents del Toro, once again, setting foot into this style. This haunted house is unusually quiet. Nancy is awoken in the night by unusual whispers, strange voices, and half-glimpsed apparitions. The isolation and solemnness of the home quickly creates an atmosphere of unease. Jennifer Kent is, of course, equally good at creating an ambiance of chilly unrest as well as more full-throated scares. There are some in-your-face, shrieking ghosts here. Yet, even when aiming for bigger shocks, “The Murmuring” never forgets the heartache and guilt that drives the spirits. 

As in the best ghost stories, the unsound spirits and the shadows of the desolate home represent and reflect on the protagonist's own psychological hang-ups.  As in “The Babadook,” this is a story of repressed grief. Nancy has never processed the death of her child and it's destroying her marriage. Edgar wants to renew the passion with his wife, trying to urge her into love-making several times. This also coyly reflects the breeding season the birds they've come to study are in. Yet Nancy grows far more obsessed with the ghost story she's uncovering. That this mystery she's drawn to involves a dead child and an ignored woman is surely why she's so interested. The murmuring of the birds connects with the whispering of the ghosts but also with the thoughts and feelings Nancy can't bring herself to verbalize. 

The backstory of the haunting, slowly uncovered throughout the hour, is classical stuff. There's an affair, a child born out of wedlock, and heartbreak. Unsurprisingly, Kent finds a feminist reading to this material as well. “The Murmuring” is set in the 1950s, a decade when men were not really expected to listen to their wives. More than once, Nancy expresses frustration with her husband. Not just with his need to push his wife back itno physical intimacy, when she's not ready, but with his disregard for her struggles as a woman in a male-dominated profession. Yet “The Murmuring” is, more than anything, concerned with bringing a voice to shunned, shamed feelings. It's a classy, well-produced hour of ghostly atmosphere. [7/10]

Chucky: Chucky Actually

Season two of “Chucky” wraps up with a Christmas episode, which I find horribly distasteful in the tail end of September. But I've come this far, so I might as well wrap it up. Picking up several months after the previous episode, Lexy has just left rehab. Jake and Devon are visiting her mom's place for Christmas dinner. Meanwhile, Jennifer Tilly/Tiffany visits Glen in the hospital, successfully transferring her children's souls into the same doll. Using Dr. Mixler's body, Chucky has once again escaped death. As the holiday rolls around, he plots revenge on the kids. Tiffany arrives at Mayor Cross' home on Christmas Eve as well, looking for the Belle doll that was gifted to Caroline.

“Chucky Actually” is basically an extended post-script to season two, rather than a grand finale. It confirms that Jake and Devon's relationship has been stormy, while implying that they'll stay together. It shows Lexy overcoming addiction. If it doesn't conclude the subplot involving Tiffany, Glen, Glenda, and Nica, it at least brings things to a good pausing point. Naturally, the finale also makes sure that the titular killer doll has survived, with a few lingering storylines that a third season can pick up. Some of these are more promising than others. I really don't care about Lexy's little sister and her possibly growing into a killer strikes me as a desperate story thread to develop. Yet it is nice that the teens have been brought to a satisfactory place. 

 

My tolerance for episodes like this, that exist largely to put the various subplots into position for the next story arc, is usually low. Yet “Chucky Actually” does touch on an interesting theme: Fucked-up parenting. Through a roundabout course of action, Lexy ends up re-conciliating with her enormously selfish mother. Chucky and Tiffany have been shitty parents to their children as well, with Glen/Glenda finally being allowed their own destiny here. The show seems to be moving towards the point that, while our flawed parents may effect how we live our lives, they don't have to define us. 

That's not the reason we watch this show, of course. We watch “Chucky” to see Chucky fucking people up and being a vicious little smart-ass. “Chucky Actually” provides plenty of that too. The episode may, in fact, feature the most fucked-up death scene in not just the series but perhaps the entire franchise. Setting such carnage against the Christmas holiday does provide some novelty as well. (Even if I'm not personally in the mood for December frivolity at this very moment.) Hearing Brad Dourif's gravelly voice put a spin on classic Christmas carols and themes did bring a sick little grin to my face.  [7/10]

And that was “Chucky: Season Two.” Overall, I would say it was a big improvement over the first season. Season two saw the show embracing its own campy spirit more often, taking the characters and settings into wilder directions. Focusing more on established characters from the films made up for the sometimes lackluster melodrama of the younger cast. Introducing multiple different types of Chuckies led to a lot of goofy fun, while expanding the franchise's mythology in more imaginative ways. The program still suffers from a lot of the same bullshit writing choices that hamper most serialized TV shows. Yet season two was, on the whole, funnier, gorier, and nuttier than season one. I'm calling that a win. I hear season three will be set in the White House? Intriguing... [Chucky: Season Two: 7/10]