Vermines
I've been in the online horror fandom long enough to see Bloody Disgusting survive a few controversies, maintaining its status as the biggest horror news site on the internet. I still check it a couple times a week. I recall, about a year ago, hearing about an upcoming French film that would derive its terror from using real spiders as much as possible. Immediately, I was intrigued. "Vermines" – good title – would win strong reviews in its native France, quickly getting picked up for U.S. distribution by Shudder. Retitled "Infested" – mediocre title – the film hit the streaming service back in April. Say what you will about the internet-based nature of companies like Bloody Disgusting or Shudder. At least they publicize and release films like these, which otherwise might go unnoticed in the U.S.
The film follows Kaleb, a young man living in the slums of Paris. He resides in a rundown apartment, his sister attempting to repair it while Kaleb does his best to make a living selling sneakers. He also collects reptiles and exotic insects. Kaleb buys a rare spider and brings it back home, unaware that the species is extremely venomous. This species also burrows inside living flesh to lay its eggs, each rapidly born new generation of arachnids growing bigger in response to the threats around them. Soon, the eight-legged predators have taken over the entire building. The police respond by locking the doors, trapping the tenets inside. Now, Kaleb, his friends and family must fight to survive like never before.
I don't know how much "Vermines'" early promise that it would use real spiders held true. A lot of the creepy crawlers looked CGI to me. Nevertheless, the film still has an acute understanding of why so many people are arachnophobes. A key moment in the film has a horde of web weavers exploding out of a shower drain, while an even bigger example dangles outside the glass door. Another notable moment pans inside a ventilation shaft, showing it absolutely filled with the bugs. I try not to squish spiders, usually scooping them up in a cup and setting them free. (A ritual characters in this film attempt several times.) But when one randomly scampers down on a thread into my face... It's a disquieting experience. "Vermines" manages to blow that anxiety up as big as possible, forcing its heroes to slip through a web-entombed hallway, the spindle-legged beasties near inches from their face. The fear of sticking your foot in a shoe, only to feel a painful sting and see a brown recluse or black widow crawl out, is apparently a universal fear. "Infested" truly didn't have to make its deadly arthropods Xenomorph-like parasites or have them grow to the size of a Dobermans to make them scary. The sensation of wandering into an undetected web face first, knowing a venomous creeper might be near-by, is uncomfortable enough.
However, the choice to have the silk-spinning antagonists germinate in living tissue and continuously double in size does make sure "Infested" is always escalating the threat. (It also keeps the film from being merely a dark and gritty remake of "Arachnophobia.") Director Sébastien Vaniček and cinematographer Alexandre Jamin manage to create some tense scenarios. The camera often gets into the tight spaces with the characters, and the spiders, emphasizing how little space is between them. The apartment complex is uniformly dark and dusty, the spiders making an already unwelcoming location more hostile. A frenzied race down a staircase or a struggle over a door is well orchestrated, giving a fitting sense of chaos without ever becoming visually incoherent. The finale, set in the parking garage where the spiders have grown to their biggest size yet, recalls the close-quarters combat of "Aliens." The film also understands the eeriness of bodily invasion, mining chills out of calm shots of spiders creeping out of mouths or under the skin.
"Infested" is not only a creature feature though. The film takes enough time to grow its characters before pushing them into this life-threatening situation. Theo Christine is really good as Kaleb. He's struggling to establish his independence, in a world that is stacked against him. He's having a hard time but he rarely lets it get him down. Christine manages to create a protagonist that is well aware of his challenging life but still projects a warm, good-natured quality. I also really like how much he genuinely cares for his bugs and lizards, and how much he knows about them, the film casually having its hero be a biology nerd without making it the whole of his personality. Christine also has strong chemistry with Sofia Lesaffre, as his sister Lila, and Jérôme Niel, as his brother Mathys. The film manages to get the viewer invested in whether these characters survive but also in their bond with each other. A key moment in the last third generated a surprising amount of emotion.
There's a reason why I think the original French title is better than what was chosen for the U.S. release. "Vermines" doesn't refer exclusively to the spiders. The residents of this apartment complex are largely people of color. Kaleb and his family are a mixture of black and Caucasian. Many of their neighbors are immigrants from Africa. One of the first residents we meet is a quiet Chinese woman. This group is already on the outskirts of a society eager to discard and blame them before the spiders attack. They face racism from within, a resident accusing Kaleb of selling drugs or somehow being at fault for the spiders. When the police show up, they surely don't make things better. Their strategy is to quarantine the building and let the problem sort itself out, the low-status residents being treated as totally disposable. Society at large treats both the poor and spiders as vermin that must be stomped out. Like the families in the apartment, the arachnids simply want to survive. Repeated references are made to Darwin and evolution, to this idea that living things must fight to propagate. In the finale, when the spiders go nuts on the police force, it's cathartic as much as it is intense. The white upper-class don't want the poor, immigrants, or ethnic people living in this city. Yet they have a right to survive as much as any other living thing and will defend themselves from extermination, much the same way the spiders do. I'm not French so specific cultural references are lost on me – though the use of words like quarantine and people wearing masks brings the COVID pandemic to mind – but many of these themes are sadly universal.
In that sense, "Infested" plays a lot like 2019's "Les Miserables," a social drama about racism and class conflict in modern Paris, but with a boatload of killer spiders added. (Lesaffre appeared in both.) Clearly, any Oscar-nominated indie drama can be improved with giant bugs. "Vermines" makes great use of its web-weaving monsters, causing the skin to crawl with more than one fantastically organized sequence. A strong ensemble of actors and a story with a noticeable emotional heart, alongside the grittiness of its setting, makes this a spider thriller of an especially high standard. Vaniček has been hand-picked to direct one of two upcoming new "Evil Dead" movies. While joining such a beloved franchise is a tall order for any young filmmakers, based on the strengths of "Vermines," I think the director has what it takes. [8/10]
Low-budget filmmakers have always been attracted to the idea of the vampire. The bloodsucking undead are among the most iconic of all folkloric monsters, well known in every culture and always ripe for reinvention and variation. In no doubt an amazing coincidence, vampires are also among the cheapest of the classic monster archetypes to bring to life. All you really need is some fangs to glue into your actor's mouths and you're ready to go. However, vampires are also generally nocturnal, which presents its own challenge for low budget filmmakers: Night shoots are a pain in the ass. In 1989, filmmaker Anthony Hickox would think of a novel solution to this persistent problem. His off-beat vampire western “Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat” features bloodsuckers in sunscreen, black-tint glasses, and wide-brim hats as they wander around the Utah desert. It is, if nothing else, an idea few other filmmakers have dared to try.
“Sundown” is set in the desert community of Purgatory, a former mining town that has now become a refuge for vampires. Led by Count Mardulak, the town was founded with the goal of vampires peacefully co-existing alongside humanity. Dr. David Harrison and his family – wife Sarah, daughters Gwen and Juliet – are invited to Purgatory to help work on an artificial blood substitute. Living in the town is Sarah's college ex-boyfriend, Shane, who still harbors an obsession with her. He's also one of the vampires in town who are against Mardulak's goal of integration. Led by Jefferson, they plan to overthrow Mardulak and wage war on humanity. The arrival of Van Helsing's descendent, Robert, pushes the two factions towards an inevitable confrontation.
“Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat” – boy, that's an awkward title, isn't it? – was Anthony Hickox's second feature film. This follows “Waxwork,” a movie I like despite it being little more a loose collection of special effects set-pieces. That film gave the impression of a hyperactive teenager making a movie, throwing every idea he had in without worrying too much about narrative coherence. “Sundown” has a similar feeling, filling its time, not with a gallery of different monsters, but a confluence of subplots. An elderly vamp kills a coked-up passer-by, getting tossed into jail next to two young campers who happen to be there. Way more time than is necessary is devoted to David and Shane's rivalry over Sarah. Van Helsing has a Will-They?/Won't-They? with a blonde vampire waitress. There's more too, scenes making room for a Jamaican sheriff and a pair of German shop owners. Hickox barely bothers to connect most of these plot points, “Sundown” feeling like half a dozen different stories randomly shoved against each other. It's almost impressive how little Van Helsing's subplot, for one example, has to do with the Harrison family drama. Or when the film pauses to introduce two totally new characters, a pair of New Wave swingers, that never appear again.
This is not to say that “Sundown's” chaotic plotting doesn't lead to some fun sequences. A sequence where Shane turns into a stop-motion bat and flies into Sarah's bedroom, attempting to seduce her, is fun. As is a sequence where some bloodsuckers in a cave transform into giant bat monsters. Any movie that ends with a whole horde of vampires exploding can't not be sort of fun. Much like Hickox's “Waxwork” movies, “Sundown” does end in a massive action sequence. The bad vampires arm themselves with wooden bullets, starting a full-blown revolt against the peaceful vampires. The shoot-outs and horse chases are fun at first but do start to go on a little too long before the end.
Ultimately, what really ends up saving “Sundown” is a colorful cast. Bruce Campbell plays Van Helsing as a constantly frustrated nerd, whose reactions get increasingly oversized as the movie goes on. In other words, it's the kind of hammy goofiness we expect from Bruce. David Carradine plays Mardulak, especially having fun gunslinging at the end or giving an impassionate speech to the village. M. Emmet Walsh steals a few scenes as Mort, the grouchy vampire who runs the gas station, while John Ireland makes for a decent villain as Jefferson. “Twin Peaks'” Dana Ashbrooke, George “Buck” Flower, and Sunshine Parker also appear. It's a good thing the supporting cast is so colorful, as the principal players are extremely bland. Maxwell Caulfield is totally unconvincing as an antagonist, playing Shane as a petulant bully. Jim Metzler isn't much better as David, his bruised masculine ego making him seem especially wimpy.
Like Hickox's other movies, “Sundown” also feels like a weird fusion of kid-friendly nonsense and edgier material. One of the daughters is a budding monster kid and the two girls get into some mischievous adventures. This co-exists alongside dialogue about orgasms, an attempted sexual assault, cocaine jokes, and an on-screen decapitation. The result is a movie that probably could've been a lot of fun, in the hands of a director that could focus on one element for more than ten minutes. In the hands of hyperactive Hickox, “The Vampire in Retreat” has a handful of amusing moments packed inside an incredibly uneven mold. In the canon of late eighties/early nineties horror/comedies set in the desert, it ranks far below “Tremors” and “Highway to Hell.” Fans of Campbell and Carradine should, at the very least, watch their scenes. The movie's box office failure is what officially killed Vestron. It surely wasn't worth that but I don't regret watching the whole thing either. [6/10]
One Step Beyond: The Confession
By the second half of the third season of “One Step Beyond,” host/creator John Newland felt like the show was running out of supposedly true stories of the paranormal to dramatize. This prompted a move to England, where the program would recruit a number of faces familiar to genre fans. Such as in “The Confession.” It tells the story of former barrister Harvey Lawrence, who rants everyday in Hyde Park. On the eve of his appointment to judgehood, Lawrence presented evidence that condemned a man to the gallows. The night before, a woman claiming to be the supposedly murdered wife appeared to Lawrence and left her handwriting on a piece of paper. Eager to confirm his judge's robes, Harvey went ahead with the conviction anyway. That is when the paper proving he sentenced an innocent man to death begins to follow him everywhere.
Despite Newland's claim that every episode of “One Step Beyond” was thoroughly researched, the series depicted folk tales and urban legends more often than not. “The Confession” certainly feels like the kind of ghost story that has circulated over the years. A haughty man, in pursuit of advancing his professional standing, dooms an innocent to death. He is then punished for his crime by supernatural intervention, eventually robbed of his high status in life and his sanity. As if “The Confession” could be any more archetypal, it also features Harvey Lawrence's hair going white from the shock of these events. This is a classical structure, of otherworldly forces spreading out justice that the real world so often evades. Like all myths, it brings with it a moral message: Never put your own glory before the truth.
This makes “The Confession” essentially another variation on “The Tell Tale Heart,” the inescapable letter clinging to the barrister being a manifestation of his own guilt. What really makes this episode worth seeking out is that it stars Donald Pleasence. In his early scenes, Pleasence plays the barrister as a totally reasonable man. When confronted with the facts, he logically burns the evidence. As the note drifts back to him each time, he slowly starts to loose his mind. This climaxes in a wonderfully entertaining scene, where Pleasence wanders the courtroom and is haunted by the echoes of the trial. Few actors were as gifted as depicting a seemingly stately authority figure cracking up into raving madness as well as Pleasence. This episode is as low budget and static as any “One Step Beyond.” By this point in the series' life, at least Newman had finally develop some panache as a host. His final line seals the deal. Still, I wonder if this show might have made a bigger impact on pop culture if something with a real flair for the dramatic, like Pleasence, had been its host... [7/10]
The Addams Family: The Addams Family Goes to School
Over the previous two Halloween marathons, I watched and reviewed the original run of “The Munsters.” Of course, Herman and Lily’s brood were not America’s First Family of Fright. The creators of “The Munsters” would eventually admit that the show was an imitator of “The Addams Family.” Charles Addams’ macabre, grotesque, yet strangely wholesome illustrations had been appearing in The New Yorker since the thirties. In the early sixties, NBC executive David Levy approached Addams about transforming his strips into a television series. Debuting in 1963, this program would give “The Addams Family” their names and further define their personalities. With its insanely catchy theme song, the series would make Gomez and the gang pop culture icons, resurrected in various forms over the decades. I’m very familiar with later iterations of the Addamses, growing up loving Barry Sonnenfeld’s two feature film adaptation. However, I’m ashamed to admit I’ve only seen a little bit of the original show. Well, after conquering the “Munsters,” I think it’s time I take a deep dive into the original morbid sitcom.
The debut episode, “The Addams Family Goes to School,” begins with truant officer Mr. Hiliard visiting the titular family’s home. He informs them that their children, Wednesday and Pugsley, have never attended a single day of school. Hiliard is introduced – and quickly horrified – by the family’s macabre habits. Nevertheless, the visit does encourage Gomez and Morticia to enroll their children at a local school. After her first day there, Wednesday returns home, crying. A story about a knight slaying a dragon upset her… Because the dragon died. Concerned about what their kids are being taught, Gomez and Morticia confront Mr. Hiliard back to their house, where he’s typically terrorized again.
“The Addams Family Goes to School” has a really smart structure for a first episode. By following a quote-unquote “normal” person into the Addams’ household, we get an introduction to every character and their world. Key characteristics for each member of the family are established right away. Gomez loves crashing his toy trains. Morticia is usually in her garden of headless roses and strangling plants. Wednesday carries her headless Marie Antoinette doll around and raises spiders, while Pugsley is fond of his pet octopus. Towering, droning Lurch is always summoned by ringing a thunderous gong. Uncle Fester and Grandmama pass the time by playing “darts” – tossing knives – and other games. Later, we see Fester’s light bulb trick. Upon entering the Addams home, Hiliard gasps at the unorthodox decorations, shown to the audience in quick succession. Basically, from the very first episode, “The Addams Family” had a keen idea of who these characters were. All the trademarks are in place, right from the beginning.
The primary jokes of “The Munsters” were the family of monsters loving spooky, creepy things usually loathed by average people and the normals reacting in shock to the family’s habit. “The Addams Family” has plenty of this too. Any time Gomez or Morticia mentioned something typically thought of as ghastly – spider and lizard cookies or a visit to the rack – it’s soon to be quickly followed by a positive rejoinder. Meanwhile, the episode concludes with a rapid-fire series of gags of Hiliard getting shocked by more morbid assumptions. However, the writing is a little sharper at times too. The trappings of the home are more surreal, such as a painting of a giraffe in a tux or a sweater with three arms. There’s a fantastic gag of Hiliard walking into a closet, when he meant to leave a room. Gomez’ enthusiastic conversation about torture methods with a school secretary shows normal people can relate to the Addams too. It’s not cutting edge humor but it’s a reliable source of comedy nevertheless.
“The Addams Family Goes to School” further establishes its iconic characters by showing off a cast born to play these roles. John Astin’s mischievous grins, unhinged eyes, and way with quick one-liners immediately shows what a manic, eccentric character this is. His wild energy is balanced out by Carolyn Jones as Morticia, whose soft sensuality and maternal warmth contrasts with the character’s gothic trappings. The two have such an immediate chemistry, the obvious love and passion the characters have for one another leaping off the screen. Ted Cassidy’s Lurch is a fabulously stiff straight man. Lisa Loring’s Wednesday is a bright-eyed, adorable little girl who also loves the macabre. It might take me a while to warm up to screechy voiced Jackie Coogan as Uncle Fester, though I do like the scene of him with a pet lizard. In other words, “The Addams Family” gets off to a good start with an amusing debut that packs in the jokes. [7/10]
1 comment:
I remember stumbling on Sundown on cable in, like, the 1990s sometime and really enjoying it. The sort of serendipitous discovery we don't get much anymore because everything's on-demand... But I've always wanted to revisit (not least because I probably didn't see the whole thing back then - that's the bad side of stumbling onto things on cable, I guess) and I've been on a Dracula kick this year, so I will probably watch this one sometime, curious to see how it holds up...
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