Halloween 2023: October 3rd

The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue (1974)

No profanar el sueño de los muertos / Let Sleeping Corpses Lie

When one thinks of the European zombie movies that flooded grindhouses in the eighties, and became more notorious as members of the Video Nasties club later on, one country comes to mind. Gory, schlocky gut-munchers were primarily exported from Italy, right? Yet the history of the euro-zombie is a little more complicated than that. The first undead movie to follow George Romero's blueprint that emerged on the European continent was “No profanar el sueño de los muertos.” It was a Spanish production, made by a Spanish director, with a largely Italian crew, set in England, and starring an international cast. The film, clearly indebted to the American “Night of the Living Dead,” would have its greatest success in Italy, directly inspiring the zombie flicks to come. Released under dozens of titles over the years – ranging from the almost direct translation of “Let Sleeping Corpses Lie,” to the specific “The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue,” to the nonsensical “Don't Open the Window!” – the film's legacy and influence has been widely noted in more recent years. 

Motorcyclist George, for reasons that change several times, heads into the British countryside. There, he becomes embroiled with Edna, a woman on her way to visit her drug addicted sister. While left alone in her car, she's attacked by a strange man. This invites a bigoted police detective into the story, forcing everyone to stay in the area. It turns out, a machine using hyper-sonic radio waves to eradicate crop pests has unknowingly caused the dead to rise. Soon enough, a whole horde of flesh-eating zombies are ruining everyone's day.

The first time I saw "The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue," well over a decade ago on an Anchor Bay DVD, I don't think I appreciated it. Right from the first scene, director Jorge Grau establishes a distinctively seventies sensibility to this story. We see George riding his motorcycle through Manchester, spotting a streaker running through the cars and apathetic passer-bys. Giuliani Sorgini's funky score further places this in 1974. This proceeds a deliberately paced first act, devoted solely to setting up our characters' combative dynamic and the rural location. The visuals are colorful, emphasizing the green foliage of the countryside and the earthy cathedrals and dwellings around it. When compared to every other Euro-zombie flock that would follow, it doesn't seem like much. Yet, when viewed as an early predecessor to the genre, it proves surprisingly striking. By the time the heroes are locked in a church, while the zombies try and break down the door by using a large, stone cross as a battering ram, you realize that there's a subtle tension at work here. A sequence set in a tomb, which features the movie's most Bava-esque colors, even manages to create a creepy, doom-laden atmosphere. 

Of course, ambiance alone is not what would make movies like this so notorious. According to Joe Bob Briggs' host segments on "The Last Drive-In," Grau sought to outdo Romero's "Night" with his own zombie gore-fest. The slower first two acts build up to a surprisingly vicious last third. The undead tear a cop apart, ripping his organs from his body and munching on them in full sight of the viewer. The finale, set at the titular morgue, involves a trio of bandage wrapped ghouls attacking a nurse, breasts first, in a scene that is still kind of shocking almost fifty years later. Later films would pile on more blood and guts but the visceral edge Grau brings to the violence here is still palatable. 

The literal go-for-the-throat cruelty of "Let Sleeping Corpses Lie" is an extension of its misanthropic story. The filmmakers clearly wanted to surpass Romero in terms of nihilism too. Most every character in this movie is an asshole or an ineffectual victim. George is a constantly grousing ill-content. Most movies would play his relationship with Edna for romantic tension. Instead, the two never stop snipping at each other throughout the whole movie. Edna's sister is a quivering junkie, who spends most of the film locked in a state of panic. By far the most despicable person in the film is Arthur Kennedy's police inspector. He takes every chance he has to belittle the survivors, regarding them with nothing but suspicion and contempt. He constantly refers to George as a hippy, even though the motorcyclist seems far from the peace-and-love type. You get the impression that this guy dismisses every young person with a single word or phrase, categorizing them all as no-good delinquents. 

This doesn't make "Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue" the most likable film. Yet its nihilism serves a purpose. Grau, after all, was making the movie under the watchful eyes of Franco's fascist government. (Which is why the movie does everything it can to disguise the fact that it's a Spanish production, to conform to the government's strict censorship laws.) All the authority figures, represented by the inspector, are hateful and corrupt people determined to enforce their narrow-minded world view on everyone else but especially any one they deem undesirable. Yet the people on the edge of society aren't much better, being drug addicts, pornographers, or jerks. If Romero's "Living Dead" sought to capture the turmoil of the late sixties, Grau's movie goes even further. This is a world totally out of balance. You see this in the sci-fi plot device that creates the zombies. Man sends its disruptive signals out into the world, causing the dead to rise and babies to become biting, scratching bloodsuckers. 

Obviously, this climaxes with a downbeat ending that leaves little room for hope and concludes on a suggestion that its all about to start again. No doubt, this reflects the attitudes of the people living in the waning days of Franco's regime. The result is a stylish, nasty, engrossing piece of work that successfully captures a world gone mad. It's unsurprising that Grau trying to outdo Romero's grimness would prompt Lucio Fulci and many other Italian directors to go even further into bloody hopelessness. I don't know if "Let Sleeping Corpses Lie" is better than it influences, and those that would come after, but it remains a compelling motion picture nevertheless. [7/10]

All Hallows' Eve 2 (2015)

The origins of the first “All Hallows' Eve” occurred when producer Jesse Baget discovered Damien Leone's short films on Youtube. Baget's original plan was to build an entire anthology around different horror shorts available online. Leone insisted on having complete creative control, however, which resulted in him directing all of “All Hallows' Eve.” When the first became a success on DVD – largely thanks to horror fan's fascination with Art the Clown – Baget was able to pursue his original plan for a sequel. “All Hallows' Eve 2” arrived in 2015, featuring efforts from eleven different directors. Leone produced the sequel as well but didn't contribute any shorts, making this something of a digression in my journey to familiarize myself with his murderous harlequin. 

The framing device of “All Hallows' Eve 2” revolves around a pumpkin-faced stalker delivering a VHS tape to a young woman. The tape contains eight tales. “Jack Attack” follows a babysitter and her young ward carving a pumpkin and baking the seeds, which has unforeseen ramifications. “The Last Halloween” concerns otherworldly trick-or-treaters haunting a man in a post-apocalyptic setting. “The Offering” sees a father and son delivering a mysterious gift into the middle of the woods. “Descent” begins with a girl spying her friend being murdered by a man and, six months later, ending up in an elevator with the same guy. “Masochist” has three teenage boys arriving at a grotesque sideshow attraction. “A Boy's Life” details a mother's attempt to deal with her son's grief over his military father's death and the monster he says is under his bed. “Mr. Tricker's Treat.” shows how the titular man creates such life-like Halloween decorations. Finally, “Alexia” crafts a haunting for the Facebook era. 

All horror anthologies are uneven. Considering the world of internet horror shorts often produces underwhelming results, this is especially true of “All Hallows' Eve 2.” Even the best segments collected here have noticeable flaws. “Jack Attack” is easily the best of the lot, producing some fittingly autumnal Halloween atmosphere. It builds up to a grotesque moment of gore, which plays like a sick punchline. Yet the actor playing the young boy is quite stiff and the short features a totally unnecessary romantic subplot. “The Last Halloween” has, by far, the best production values of any of the shorts. The make-up effects are creative and the sets are impressive. They support a script that is a bit too obvious and seems so proud of its central twist that it never inhabits the characters or themes with any actual meaning.

Most of the shorts featured in “All Hallows' Eve 2” have decent premises but make a serious miscalculation when executing them. “Descent” probably has the best set-up in the film, a scenario that very easily – and nearly does – create some decent suspense. It's all spoiled by a half-assed twist ending that reveals everything that came before as a meaningless cheap trick. “A Boy's Life” is very slow but take its characters seriously. By the active climax, where the mother enacts a war game with her son to help him overcome his fears, I was somewhat won over by a short that was previously too maudlin. Then the filmmakers remember that this is supposed to be a horror movie and throw in a needlessly cruel last-minute scare that doesn't even make much sense within the film's world. 

Shorts like these are, more often than not, created as calling cards for their directors. They are showcases for the filmmakers, in order to prove to producers they can make a decent looking movie. Indeed, most of the segments are well-produced. “A Boy's Life” features some very nice cinematography. “The Offering” has a moody, desolate atmosphere to it. “Alexia” – which I reviewed by itself some years ago – makes good use of lighting. Yet “The Offering's” script is so thin as to be basically be nonexistent. It's mildly creepy but the viewer is left wondering what the point was. “Alexia,” meanwhile, is simply set-up for a pedestrian jump-scare that is telegraphed far in advance.

And those are the segments in “All Hallows' Eve 2” that I'm willing to give some positive comments to. At least two of the shorts here are simply bad. “Mr. Tricker's Treat” features some shaky, amateurish visuals and equally stiff and cartoonish acting. The story plays like a dumb joke that spoils its own punchline immediately, leaving the audience to do nothing but endure it. “Masochist” is actually “M is for Masochist,” meaning this was a short created for inclusion in “The ABCs of Death 2” but ultimately rejected. Like far too many of the segments from that film, it's obnoxious and edgy for its own sake. The visual direction is laughably over-the-top, featuring two especially goofy moments. The acting is broad. The script features annoying rhyming dialogue and includes a serious, real world problem seemingly just for shock value. The gore effects aren't even very good. 

All the shorts included in “All Hallows' Eve 2” can be freely found online. In fact, the film features the end credits sequence from each short in a big pile at the very end, giving the impression this entire anthology was truly cobbled together. A few of the directors have gone onto other projects, some working in editing or writing. Only “Masochist's” the Kondelik Brothers and “Jack Attack's” Antoni Padovan have gone on to make features though. (And the latter have mostly done movies for The Asylum and, well, good for them, I guess.) By the way, only three of the shorts here have a Halloween theme, which only furthers the feeling that this entire affair was quickly thrown together without much thought. [5/10]

 

The Outer Limits: The Sixth Finger

Recently, icon of sixties television David McCallum passed away. While best known for his co-starring role on “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.,” McCallum was also part of one of the most iconic images in science fiction in the decade. That would be the fifth episode of “The Outer Limits.” “The Sixth Finger” concerns Professor Mathers, a physicist living in the Welsh countryside, studying ways to advance evolution. He's invented a machine that push man up or down the evolutionary ladder. McCallum plays Gwylim, a disgruntled miner who offers to become Mathers' test subject. Gwylim has soon evolved into a telepathic being with a larger brain and a sixth finger. His intelligence quickly advances, the process continuing forward on its own. Growing more powerful, the evolved Gwylim soon concludes that the local community – and all the ignorant humans that live there – must be destroyed. 

As was the trademark with “The Outer Limits,” “The Sixth Finger” grapples with some heady ideas. The topic tackled here is transhumanism, of humanity becoming more than human through scientific advances. This, naturally, brings with it the question of what makes us human exactly. As Gwylim morphs into a super-human being, he causes the death of the maid who stumbles upon his appearance. His reaction is nonplussed, that it would make no difference to grieve her. As his power grows and he plots revenge against humanity, it's clear that he's lost that thing we call “humanity.” Only the love of Jill Haworth's Cathy, the simpleton girl who got him this job in the first place, is able to get him back in touch with more earthly emotions. 

Lots of sci-fi stories, films, and TV episodes have made this same conclusion. That we should never loose sight of our common humanity in our pursuit of science. The way “The Sixth Finger” touches on these themes are more intriguing. The sequence of Gwylim flawlessly playing a concerto the first time he sits at a piano and ponders on the longevity of human achievement is an interesting one. While the sequence where Gwylim evolves pass the need for vengeance is something of an anti-climax, it's a better illustration of the themes of evolution and humanity than some of the episode's more heavy-handed moments. 

All the high-minded ideas in the world wouldn't make a difference if “The Sixth Finger” wasn't a compelling hour of television. As was typical of “The Outer Limits,” the visuals here are moody and atmospheric. The performances are especially effective. McCallum is believable as both a mush-mouthed miner and a hyper-evolved superhuman. He brings a poignancy to the episode's best moments, especially his scene with the adorably sweet Haworth. And, of course, the make-up of the evolved Gwylim, with his pointed ears and massive cranium, remain one of those indelible images in genre television history. Also, there's a chimpanzee fixing a radio and that's pretty neat. While not the scariest or most intriguing episode of “The Outer Limits” I've seen, “The Sixth Finger” is rightfully a classic anyway. [7/10]

The Munsters: Herman's Driving Test / Will Success Spoil Herman Munster?

“The Munsters” writers room continue to contrast their macabre family with different, everyday scenarios. “Herman's Driving Test” sees the Frankenstein father being promoted to hearse driver at the funeral home. That's when he discovers his driver's license is 20 years out of date. His attempts to get it renewed and pass the test go awry, forcing Herman and Grandpa to seek out an obscure small town where the test will hopefully be easier. “Will Success Spoil Herman Munster?” begins with Eddie bringing home a tape recorder to play with. Herman playfully records a goofy song on the tape when no one is looking. When it ends up at a local radio station, Herman's song unexpectedly becomes an overnight sensation. Naturally, this goes to the patriarch's head pretty quickly. 

The idea of Herman Munster taking a driver's test is the kind of set-up that writes itself. Naturally, “The Munsters” exploits this for big, goofy sight gags. Yet this episode doesn't really find its groove until the last act, when the duo travels to the tiny town of Groversville. The extremely eccentric town judge, who runs every function in the whole town, is played by Charlie Ruggles. The actor runs through a number of silly one-liners about mixing up various town functions, including mistaking Herman and Grandpa for a couple wanting to get married. It all leads up to a very goofy but satisfyingly ironic final scene. Also, the show continues to get good jokes out of Spot the Dragon. The bit here where Eddie and Lily feed the fire-breathing beast made me chuckle.

The highlight of “Will Success Spoil Herman Munster?” Is probably the dream sequence where Lily imagines Herman first performing on a music show, then winning an Oscar, then divorcing her to get together with a trophy wife instead. The low-point of the episode is the final few scenes, which feature quite a lot of annoying, high-pitched chipmunk voices. That Herman's family conspires to sabotage his budding music career, rather than allow him his success, is pretty crappy of them. The Munsters are toxic as fuck. Also of note is the opening sequence, where Grandpa generates a thunderstorm, that features some classic Universal Monsters-style ambiance and another bizarre scene where Herman pantomimes gorilla noises. Weird episode overall! And, for what it's worth, I think Herman's song is pretty catchy. [Herman's Driving Test: 7/10 / Will Success Spoil Herman Munster?: 6/10]