Halloween 2023: October 18th

Macabre (2009)

Rumah Darah

When “The Raid” came out in 2011, it really opened the eyes of western movie nerds to some of the bad-ass stuff coming out of Indonesia. Though that movie was directed by Gareth Evans – a Welsh filmmaker – it became a porthole through which a whole slew of Indonesian directors and stars sneaked through. Among those is Evans' occasional collaborator, Timo Tjahjanto. Before teaming up with Gareth, Timo was part of a duo called the Mo Brothers with Kimo Stamboel. (Who has also made some stand-alone hits of his own.) The Mo Brothers' breakout movie would be “Macabre.” Known in its native language as “Rumah Darah” – which seems to roughly translate to “House of Blood” – the film would, in many ways, be the predecessor to many of the hard-hitting, bone-crunching films to win fans all over the world in the years to come. 

Ladya has a tense relationship with her brother Adjie, who plans on moving to Australia with his pregnant wife, Astrid. Despite the awkwardness between them, Ladya agrees to celebrate with her brother and his friends. After leaving the bar she works at, the group encounters a strange woman in the streets. Named Maya, they give her a ride back to her secluded country home. She insists they come inside to meet her family, led by intense matriarch Dara. The family is welcoming at first, inviting the strangers to eat with them, but the horrible truth is soon revealed. Ladya, her brother, and their friends wake up, drugged and bound. Dara and her offspring are killing people and selling their flesh, which they also eat. Ladya and Adjie will be pushed to the limits if they hope to survive this hideous night. 

If the above plot synopsis didn't make it clear, “Macabre” is basically the Indonesian version of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.” Leatherface's favorite power tool is even utilized in dismembering some victims. Yet this is a great example of a film where the execution – pun fully intended – is everything. As he would display in his future action pictures, Timo Tjahjanto has a hell of a talent for intense violence and skull-busting action sequence. When people get hurt in “Macabre,” they don't merely get knocked around. Bones protrude through the skin. Body parts are separated. A face is bashed in. Blood sprays through the air. Adding to the severity of the violence is some seriously tight editing and creative cinematography. More than once, the camera is attached to the blade of the chainsaw as it swings through the air. Tjahjanto, Stamboel, and their team insures that every bone splintering blow hits with maximum impact. 

The vicious efficiency and graphic brutality of “Macabre's” violence is what most distinguishes it. Yet none of that stuff would mean much if the film didn't have heroes we could root for. The characters in “Macabre” are simple, with the cast perhaps being too large for us to get a read on most of them. Adjie's friends include the horny one, the goofy one, his perfectly angelic wife, and a few other guys. If that's not enough, some clownish cops wander into the story to further beef up the body count. While none of these characters are that memorable, they sure have a will to survive. Most important is Julie Estelle as Ladya. Her shared trauma and lingering grief with her brother is standard stuff for horror films like this. Mostly, Estelle is such a compelling physical presence, a determined survivor who rails tooth-and-nail against her depraved enemies. She's got all the qualities you want in both an action heroine and a final girl. 

Not unlike “Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” the most interesting characters in “Macabre” are the brood of backwoods cannibals. There's the hulking, sexually predatory, Leatherface-like simpleton who does most of the sawing. His siblings includes the seductive but unhinged Maya and the upright seeming but brutally direct Adam. And they are all pretty good villains, intimidating and freaky. Yet Shareefa Daanish's Dara reigns over them all. I don't think Daanish blinks a single time throughout the whole movie. She speaks in a monotone voice, always starring ahead, projecting an inhuman level of focus that is immediately unnerving. By the end, when she picks up the chainsaw herself and starts to fight back, the fury she contains is unleashed as well. To see such a terrifying villainess and such a convincingly tough heroine come to blows makes sure that “Macabre” has a hell of a final act.

The film hints at some greater history for Dara and her off-spring. The mother is apparently over a hundred years old, with the suggestion being that her and her kids are some sort of scientific experiments. This nuggets of backstory are smartly revealed through briefly glimpsed film reels and photographs. Tjahjanto and Slamboel have both hinted at a sequel over the years, which “Macabre” clearly leaves room for. It's hard to say if that'll ever come to fruition, since Tjahjanto is now busy with a “Train to Busan” remake. Estelle and Daanish went on to star-making roles in “The Raid 2” and “The Night Comes for Us.” But I do hope a sequel emerges eventually, or at least another collaboration between these directors and cast members, if only because I want to see more of this strain of blood-soaked insanity. “Macabre” is a vicious, hard-hitting but utterly invigorating bit of bloodshed. [8/10]

Combat Shock (1986)

For cult movie devotees like myself, who were born too late to experience it personally, the exploitation films of the seventies and eighties hold a special appeal. Essentially, these movies capture a version of New York City that no longer exists. I'm referring to the era when Times Square was full of sleazy theaters that played exploitation cinema around the clock. While the city is probably better off without the porn shops, drug dealers, and pimps, the old, sleazy New York holds a certain romantic appeal. It is through the low budget films of this time period, filmed in the city to play in 42nd Street grindhouses, that we can get a peek at this bygone time. Few films give us as in-depth look at the city-dwelling sordidness of those days then Buddy Giovinazzo's 1986 nerve-rattler, “Combat Shock.” 

Fifteen years ago, Frankie rejected the advice of his well-to-do father and married Cathy, the woman he loved. Shortly afterwards, he was deployed to Vietnam. Frankie's experience in the war was utterly soul-crushing, being witness to a horrific massacre and tortured by the Viet-Cong. Left deeply traumatized, he's haunted by flashbacks still. Upon returning home, his exposure to Agent Orange causes his and Cathy's child to be born terribly deformed. Now unable to find work and practically homeless, Frankie takes to the streets to find some sort of employment. Instead, he encounters junkies, predatory gangsters, pimps, and child prostitutes. It won't be long before Frankie's sanity totally shatters and he descends completely into a personal hell.

Many exploitation movies made in the days concurrent and after “Combat Shock” were far more self-aware in their sleaziness. Troma, the distributors of “Combat Shock,” practically specialized in self-aware compilation of outrageous content and cartoonish gore. Giovinazzo's film is different. Its depiction of urban squalor is utterly sincere. Photographed entirely in genuine Staten Island locations, every corner of “Combat Shock” is covered with filth. The central apartment is rundown. The back-allies, abandoned buildings, and sidewalks are in utter disarray. Maggots and rotten food are shoved into the camera. Rick Giovinazzo, the director's brother who plays Frank, spends the entire film with a layer of flop-sweat on his skin and his greasy hair plastered to his forehead. Every character in the film is sunken-eyed and pale. Even the televisions in the movie only broadcast static and inane chatter. The film totally captures an atmosphere of life under the poverty line in a big city. 

It's not a pleasant experience, which “Combat Shock's” script and production values push further. Frankie is introduced in the grips of a PTSD flashback, which he more-or-less stays in for the rest of the movie. His wife yells at him to find work and get food. An early incident in the film is a clogged toilet. And that hellish baby, with its unsettling face, is always shrieking. Frank's acquaintances include desperate junkies and brutal crime lords, who regularly commit terrible acts to ensure their own survival. And then things get worst. In other words, “Combat Shock” creates an atmosphere of utter hopelessness, where no one will get out unscathed. It is bleak, abrasive, and thoroughly depressing. Frank amusing a child prostitute with some funny faces is what passes for a moment of levity in this film. 

As hopeless and sleazy as “Combat Shock” is, I don't think empty nihilism was Giovianzzo's goal here. These characters have personality. Frank loved his wife once and maybe still does. His refusal to go to his rich father isn't just out of pride but firmly held personal beliefs. When he encounters his junkie friend, he promises to help the guy next they meet. He stands up for the young girls he encounters. If not for his experiences in the war, Frank's life surely would've turned out differently. And so, a criticism of the U.S. war machine emerges. As more of Frank's haunted past is revealed, via increasingly fractured flashbacks, it becomes clear that being forced to kill for reasons those in control could barely justify broke Frank's mind and corrupted his soul. “Combat Shock” wallows in despair but not without good reason. 

I'd even argue there's quite a deal of artistry to what the film pulls off. The acting is sometimes awkward. The dialogue, especially the voice-over narrations Rick Giovinazzo rattles off, are stilted. The electronic score is repetitive. Needless to say, the production values are often crude. Yet there's no doubt that “Combat Shock” makes an impact on the viewer. There's a ferocity in the way the violence is delivered, the inevitable carnage playing out as a cathartic release of Frank's pain and also ultimate acts of self-destruction by a desperate man. A real sense of disorientation and pain is apparent in the Vietnam sequences. While the special effects aren't the best, the way the death and murder is depicted is surprisingly harrowing. “Combat Shock” often borders on campy and could be accused of being juvenile in its edginess. However, the entire film resonates with a palpable rage and agony. 

In other words, Buddy Giovinazzo was making a point with “Combat Shock.” He had a purpose. His vision might've exceeded his resources at times. Still, I feel his film is highly successful in putting a viewer into the mindset of its broken protagonist and the hellish world he inhabits. Combined with the caught-on-film, genuine Staten Island grubbiness and you've got an undeniable exploitation classic. “Combat Shock” left me shaken and unsettled, no matter how low-budget it is at times. Giovinazzo went on to an idiosyncratic career – which includes an unrealized sequel to “Maniac,” one of the few movies that can rival this one in terms of scuzzy Big Apple atmosphere – proving that the talent on-display wasn't a fluke. If you've got the endurance for this kind of downbeat cinema, “Combat Shock” is likely to become a favorite of your's as well. [9/10]

Goosebumps: The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight

Scarecrows occupy the same uncanny valley as dummies and mannequins, making them frequent features in horror stories. This is even true in the kid-friendly horror market, as R.L. Stine's mega-popular but dubious “Goosebumps” took a crack at the concept as well. Naturally, “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight” was adapted for an episode of the Fox Kids TV version too. It follows –  like practically every one of these – a brother and sister. Jodie and Mark are visiting their grandparents' farm but quickly notice something is amiss. Everyone is acting strangely, especially farmhand Stanley. Soon, Jodie starts to have nightmares about the scarecrows and Mark observes them seemingly moving. Both youths soon discover that the scarecrows are indeed alive, animated by a spell book Stanley found and foolishly read from.

Even as a kid, I've never been much impressed with “Goosebumps,” either on the page or on screen. Yet, as I've noted in the past, the show does deserve some credit for treating its monsters-of-the-week seriously, more often than not. What the hell the scarecrows (what walk at midnight) plan to do once they grab someone is never defined. Yet the scenes of the scarecrows appearing in the youngsters' bedroom or emerging out of the cornstalks to grab someone play with an extremely mild degree of tension. When the straw-stuffed menaces start to break through the walls of the barns the siblings hide inside, “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight” even feels a little bit like the Saturday morning version of a zombie movie. I even kind of like the soundtrack, which is heavy on the sparse acoustic guitar and creates something of an isolated, rural ambiance. 

No matter how gingerly creepy the villains might be or how meekly suspenseful the scenarios are, “Goosebumps” is always hassled by its status as kid show slop. The narrative is largely senseless. The attempt to mine unease from Jodie's grandmother forgetting to make pancakes for breakfast or serving pie are as de-fanged as horror can get. Stanley – who Michael Copeman plays as someone who has been kicked in the head by a mule – is indecisively balanced between innocent simpleton and evil mastermind. His son, inexplicably named Sticks, leads to the episode's dumbest fake-outs. Ultimately, the justification for why the scarecrows have sprung to life feels like it was made-up on the spot. 

As quickly as R.L. Stine produced his “Goosebumps” installments, it's not surprising that they feature sloppy plotting. The ever-present twist ending here is very, very dumb but, at least, it ends the episode on something like a surprising mark. Like every episode of “Goosebumps,” “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight” nods towards the spooky and horrific but is so committed to being soft and unthreatening that it rarely works. However, this one actually had some potential. Scarecrows are symbols rift with meaning. The emptiness of the rural setting, and the wind blowing through the stalks at night, could've created a creepy feeling. There's even an element of folk horror, in the plot device used to animate the scarecrows. I guess unfulfilled opportunities to be good is the best we can hope for from this show. [6/10]

The Pledge (1981)

The series of television films produced for the BBC, usually airing around the holidays and more often than not adapted from classic English ghost stories, are critically acclaimed. Among a certain crowd of “Doctor Who”-loving genre nerds, they are practically worshiped. I've yet to actually watch any of these Ghost Stories for Christmas productions but I've seen a few parallel films. One such example is “The Pledge,” an adaptation of a Lord Dunsany short story by filmmaker Digby Rumsey. The twenty-minute short didn't actually air on the BBC and was, in fact, rated X by the British rating board. Yet it touches upon many of the same themes as those TV movies and is frequently listed alongside them. The short got a big boost recently after it was featured in that folk horror documentary.

The specific story adapted here is “The Highwayman.” It concerns a highwayman, a thief and robber, who never did a single good thing in his entire life. After being captured and tried, he is hanged at the gallows. Before his execution, three of the man's friends made a pledge to him: That they would cut down his corpse and give it a proper Christian burial. Though some of the trio object to the plan, the three men fulfill their promise. In the process, they end up saving the soul of their utterly rotten friend. 

“The Pledge” doesn't begin with a concise narrative. The film begins with a montage of the highwayman's villainous acts in life, which include abusing some poor woman. It flashes between these events, his capture, him awaiting execution in his cell, and close-ups on his rotting corpse. It's only after these events are thoroughly established that the story's proper narrative begins, at which point “The Pledge” becomes almost scientifically detached in its straight-forwardness. We see the men locate the man's body, which has rotted away to nothing much but bones, before cutting it down and placing it in a tomb. The switch between an almost experimental opening and then a direct second half produces quite a bit of whiplash in the viewer.

In truth, I was left wondering exactly what the point of “The Pledge” was. There's a certain irony to the result of the story. The close-ups of the moldering corpse are remarkably gruesome. The dialogue the men trade plays out like the 1800s equivalent of hard-boiled banter. It's all certainly interesting. Ramsey definitely shows a certain aptitude for otherworldly atmosphere, which the strange soundtrack contributes to. Yet I'm not sure what exactly it coheres into. Still, if you're looking for a dose of folk horror ambiance, “The Pledge” will certainly deliver on that. [6/10]