Halloween 2023: October 14th

V/H/S/85 (2023)

The production companies behind the “V/H/S” found footage anthology series are clearly committed to making it a yearly tradition. Obviously, having a prime platform in Shudder has helped make this rebirth smoother. “V/H/S/94” and “V/H/S/99” were both pretty good, so why not keep things going? The franchise would return to the eighties this October with “V/H/S/85.” The batch of filmmakers invited to create retro-leaning tales of terror this time include: David Bruckner, returning to the “V/H/S” series with a far higher profile; Mike P. Nelson, of “The Domestics” and the “Wrong Turn” reboot; Gigi Saul Guerrero, who previously contributed to two separate Blumhouse series; Natasha Kermani, the director of “Imitation Girl” and “Lucky;” and Scott Derrickson, probably the highest grossing filmmaker to touch this franchise. Let's see how these tapes stack up?

“V/H/S/85's” framing device is a “Hard Copy” style tabloid news show, documenting a college doing experiments on a strange, shape-shifting creature they've discovered. Other segments are recorded over this program. “No Wake” shows a group vacationing at a lake, only to be attacked by an unseen killer and discover the water's unique properties. “God of Death” sees a standard day for a news program being interrupted by the 1985 Mexico City Earthquake, the survivors descending under the city and uncovering something horrible. “TKNOGD” is a recording of a performance artist who utilizes VR in her show, which summons something evil. “Ambrosia” continues “No Wake's” story, showing a family of serial killers gathering for a party. “Dreamkill” has  disturbing video tapes, depicting murders, mailed to the police department. The investigating detectives discover that these tapes are recordings of future events from a psychic boy's dreams. 

While talking about analog horror earlier in the season, I discussed how the main attribute of the subgenre is how it uses the physicality of the format. The “V/H/S” series was kind of ahead of the curve on this and it really comes into play in this sixth installment. “V/H/S/85” commits to replicating the visual language of VHS, playing with aspect ratios, film grains, and video errors. This is most apparent in David Bruckner's wrap-around segment, which replicates the look and feel of eighties television. Meanwhile, there are inserts throughout the film of home video like productions, whether they be backyard monster movies or live performances of a GWAR-like band. When combined with Guerrero's segment actually appearing to be shot on video and Derrickson's heavily featuring melting film reels, “85” becomes the first entry in the series to truly bring the analog vibes. 

But how do the segments themselves hold up? Bruckner's wrap-around features some gnarly make-up effects, even if wondering about what's going on with its strange creature is more interesting than what the movie actually reveals. (And it ends on a sick joke, something of a series tradition at this point.) Mike P. Nelson directs both “No Wake” and “Ambrosia,” a continuing story thread being something new in this series. Nelson has a talent for visceral violence. The gory deaths in “No Wake” and the brutal shoot-outs in “Ambrosia” make an impression, the bloody pyrotechnics hitting hard. Yet both segments never quite deliver on the intriguing ideas they promise. Revenants having to deal with their newly undead existence or a family tradition of mass murder feel like ideas that could be better explored in feature films. 

Guerrero's “God of Death” gets off to a strong start. The behind-the-scenes shenanigans of a news program provide a scene of normalcy. When this is abruptly interrupted by a natural disaster, with a beam crashing down on the newscaster's head, it is effectively shocking. Honestly, “God of Death” probably didn't even need to introduce any supernatural elements. A first-person perspective of a massive earthquake, full of bloody dismemberment and tragic circumstances, isn't a bad idea. Yet a link to Aztec mythology is introduced soon enough, which is when the segment goes off the rails. There's too much explanation of what's going on at this point, with the pay-off feeling like an extraneous  extension of the scenario. If nothing else, Guerrero – who also has a segment in “Satanic Hispanics” this year – does a good job of incorporating special effects.

“TKNOGD” is probably “V/H/S/85's” most intriguing segment. Like much of this anthology, it focuses more on the “found” than the “footage,” playing out like a video presentation from 1985. This creates an interesting set-up, as we see a performance art event go horribly wrong. The episode infuses some disturbingly graphic gore. Chivonne Michelle has a fitting type of intensity as the scene's central figure. Much like Kermani's previous films, “TKNOGD” also wears its ideas on its sleeves. Since it's about a performance artist speaking directly to the audience, there's plenty of chances for the script to make its points about technology and its impact on society clear. Also a joke about “Eye-Phones” is way too on-the-nose... Nevertheless, the combination of fucked-up violence and retro-VR nostalgia works well.

Derrickson's “Dreamkill” exemplifies both the strengths and weaknesses of “V/H/S/85.” There are several scenes in the segment, seemingly told from the perspective of a serial killer as they break into homes and cut people up. These scenes are distressingly vicious, which is further enhanced by the lo-fi presentation. Yet, much like Derrickson's “Sinister,” these intense moments are contained within a trite story. The mechanics of the dreamed predictions are both over-explained and fuzzy. The film invokes the eighties Satanic panic, by making the dreamer a goth kid, without doing anything with it. Moreover, Derrickson cuts between multiple camera sources, making you wonder why it's a found footage story at all. The gory executions in the last half are compelling but it was harder for me to care, as the script revealed more of its ideas. (Also, this segment apparently connects with “The Black Phone,” another Derrickson film whose parts were greater than its whole.) 

Ultimately, “V/H/S/85” has some clever ideas and a few stand-out moments. Yet I'm not sure I was entirely satisfied with any of the individual episodes. “TKNOGD” and Bruckner's wrap-around come the closest to hitting the spot for me. There's nothing here as striking as part one's “Amateur Night,” “Safe Haven,” “Storm Drain,” or “Ozzie's Dungeon.” I fear, by cranking these films out on an annual basis, the “V/H/S” films are starting to become a bit drained of creativity. I guess we'll see how true this concern proves to be when the seventh installment – already announced and said to have a sci-fi angle – comes out presumably next October. Personally, I'd rather the “V/H/S” series lean further into the analog aspect and see if they can rope Jane Schoenbrun, Kyle Edward Ball, Rob Savage, and maybe “The Backrooms” kids into one of these. [6.5/10]

Munster, Go Home! (1966)

Before “The Munsters” was canceled in 1966, Universal Studios assembled a feature film continuation of the TV show. “Munster, Go Home!” was supposedly put together in order to introduce European audiences to the characters before the series went into syndication over there. The cast and crew were only informed of the show ending after wrapping filming on the movie. One can't help but wonder if Universal wasn't curious to see if “The Munsters” could succeed outside the boundaries of the television screen, much like the classic monster movies that spawned them. This would prove to not be the case, as “Munster, Go Home!” was not especially successful in 1966. However, the big screen spin-off has become a minor cult favorite among fans of the show. 

Like several of the show's episodes, “Munster, Go Home!” is built around the idea of the family suddenly coming into a great deal of money. In this case, it's the news that an obscure family member has passed away and willed his manor in the English countryside to Herman. The Munsters clan is soon on a boat, headed towards merry ol' England. Further members of the Munster clan, especially the villainous Freddie and Lady Effigie, plot to steal lordship title from Herman by bumping him off. Grandpa soon uncovers why they are so eager to keep the manor: Freddie is running a counterfeiting operation out of the basement. It all comes to a head at a car race, where the DRAG-U-LA and a sports car – supposedly driven by Marilyn's latest love interest – steer against one another.

In 1966, one of the main selling points of “Munster, Go Home!” is it provided fans their first chance to see these characters in color. Truthfully, the novelty of seeing the Munsters in Technicolor – and without a laugh track – takes some getting used to. The movie also features some slightly racier jokes than the show, such as Marilyn's thighs showing when she gets out of a car or a snogging couple being interrupted repeatedly during the race. Yet the heart of the show is maintained. In fact, “Munster, Go Home!' recycles many of the gags we've seen from the show. Such as people fleeing in exaggerated terror from the family, Eddie sleeping in weird places, or Grandpa mixes up his magical pills. The scenes of Grandpa and Herman exploring the secret passageways of Munsters Hall feels like something right out of the TV show.

“Munster, Go Home!” being so similar to the TV show that birthed it makes the difference stick out all the more though. First off, Debbie Watson replaces Pat Priest as Marilyn, feeling more-or-less like a different character. Obviously having a larger budget than your typical episode of television, the movie features some more elaborate gags. A sequence where Cousin Freddie tries to scare the Munsters out of the home features dancing skeletons and blinking skulls, the kind of special effects probably slightly outside the show's scope. The finale of “Munster, Go Home!” is an extensive race sequence. While the DRAG-U-LA speeds through the countryside, Lily and Grandpa pursue him via motorcycle and horse. It certainly represents an honest attempt to make “The Munsters” worthy of the big screen.

While “Musnter, Go Home!” features a fairly standard screenplay, the movie does emphasize one of the re-occurring points of the series. The quote-unquote monsters are proven to have more heart than the seemingly normal looking humans. Freddie, played by a typically hammy Terry-Thomas, is a psychotic man-child more than willing to commit murder to achieve his goals. Lady Effigy is similarly cold-blooded. In general, the town folks around Munster Hall all display more prejudice than the family they reject. The Munster family name is hated by the locals, not because there's monsters in their bloodline, but because the human family members are such assholes. If “The Munsters” can be said to have any moral, it is “Don't judge someone based on their appearance.” The movie sees this idea through. 

Ultimately, “The Munsters'” formula of goofy sight gags and wacky physical comedy can only go so far. Expecting this set-up to support a feature length run time, when “The Munsters” is better suited to half-hour chunks, strains things. “Munster, Go Home!” isn't quite as funny as the average episode of the show. Yet these characters are so lovable, and the actors playing them so charming, that I can't help but have some fondness for the film. By the way, John Carradine appears here but as a different character than Mr. Gateman. They at least give him some muttonchops, to make the differences more apparent. A minor line of dialogue does clear up why a German Frankenstein has relatives in England too, as if that kind of consistency has ever mattered. [6/10]

Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1986): Man on the Edge

While the 1986 version of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” was destined to always be in the shadow of the original, it did manage to attract some notable stars. “Man on the Edge,” the third episode of the revival's second season, stars two greats: Mark Hamill and Michael Ironside. Hamill is Danny, an unsuccessful man whose wife left him after meeting a mysterious stranger named Rick. Sometime after that, she died of an apparent suicide. Danny climbs onto the ledge outside a high-rise hotel room, seemingly preparing to throw himself off. Police psychologist Lt. Muldoon – Ironside, naturally – appears to talk Danny back down. Yet it soon becomes apparent that both men have secrets of their own.

There are two big weaknesses to “Man on the Edge.” First off, its twist ending is not that hard to predict. Once Danny's backstory is fully revealed, you can guess easily where this is all going. Secondly, any time the episode cuts away from its central set-up – a man apparently on the edge of suicide and the cop trying to talk him out of it – it falters. There's a tension to this life-and-death premise that is lost every time we go into a flashback, showing the same character in more mundane situations. Honestly, both of these issues could've been avoided if “Man on the Edge” stayed in the present, focusing on the suspenseful question of whether Danny will throw himself off and if Muldoon can get him to reconsider. Those flashbacks are fairly awkward too, so an alternative probably wouldn't have been any less wonky.

Having said all that, “Man on the Edge” is predictably saved by some strong performances. Mark Hamill is well-cast here. The former Luke Skywalker has a certain everyman quality to him, making the audience immediately root for him as he faces one set-back after another. Yet Hamill, well on his way to playing iconic villains at this point, is also good at projecting a certain instability. This also suits a character whose mental stability is in question. Michael Ironside has the stern voice of authority you associate with a cop. While he usually plays bad guys and hard-asses, he actually does well as an empathetic fellow trying to help a stranger. Seeing these two play off each other is definitely the main joy of this half-hour, even if you see the twist coming from a mile away. Or, rather, from thirty feet up. Also, I like the train themed host segments of a colorized Hitch. [7/10]

Invocation of My Demon Brother (1969)

Legendary underground filmmaker and cult icon Kenneth Anger – who passed away earlier this year – would first come to fame for his homoeroticism themed short films, “Fireworks” and “Scorpio Rising.” These works would naturally be highly controversial in the forties and fifties, with Anger being subjected to at least one obscenity lawsuit. After living in France for a time, and writing notorious gossip compilation “Hollywood Babylon,” he would return to America and befriend numerous countercultural figures. This would include Mick Jagger and Anton LaVey, who would inspire another key short film of his. “Invocation of My Demon Brother” captures a Satanic ritual on-film while Jagger noodling on a Moog synthesizer provides the soundtrack. 

One of the sights among the swirling collage of images that makes up “Invocation” is several people smoking hashish out of a skull. Drugs were undoubtedly a factor in the short film's conception. It's probably meant to be watched while high yourself. That would certainly make the highly repetitive – and, let's be honest, annoying – soundtrack more tolerable. If you can tolerate the high-pitch droning and crashing noises, I think Anger's film is somewhat successful in its goals. Namely, to place the viewer under the same sort of trance they would experience during an occult ritual. As you watch an ostentatiously dressed priest go about a theatrical presentation – along side dizzying shots of faces and various practices, including some light naked wrestling between guys – you do feel yourself lulled into an altered state-of-mind.  

No doubt, there's something mildly creepy about that too. It's hard to take Anton LeVay and his hedonistic cronies seriously these days, especially now that the strictly atheistic roots of his “church” are better understood. Yet some of the images here are kind of weird. Such as a procession of folks, dressed in red and white hoods, marching down a staircase. Or a deranged face peering out at us among the kaleidoscopic montages. I don't even know if “Invocation of My Demon Brother” is meant to be taken too seriously. It ends with a burnt skull flashing on-screen, informing us that everyone watching this is now pregnant. “That's witchcraft,” it reads, doubtlessly sarcastically. Yet it does give you an idea of what was in the water – and what people were smoking – during the occult scene of the time. Even if muting it and putting on a Coven record is probably a more ideal way to experience this. [6/10]