Halloween 2024: September 4th

Abigail (2024)

After the critical and commercial success of Leigh Whannel's “The Invisible Man,” Universal finally figured out that the best way to reboot their classic monsters for modern audiences is to let promising filmmakers make medium-budget horror movies out of them. Among the many monster projects Universal has announced since then, there was an untitled film to be directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett. This duo, known collectively as Radio Silence, had managed to reboot “Scream” to great commercial success, so they were a solid choice. The project was rumored to be a remake of “Dracula's Daughter” but, when the trailer finally came out, it was called “Abigail.” The retitling might have been prompted by Universal's previous “Dracula” re-imaginings flopping. At the very least, “Abigail” made more money at the box office than “Renfield” and “Last Voyage of the Demeter,” winning more positive reviews too. But what did I, a Universal Monsters aficionado and a Radio Silence skeptic, think? 

While leaving a ballet recital, a young girl is kidnapped by a band of six criminals. They hold her in a secluded mansion, where their contact assures them that, once the ransom is collected in the morning, they'll all be seven million dollars richer. The crew – former military medic Joey, ex-cop Frank, rich girl turned hacker Sammy, dumb muscle Peter, getaway driver Dean, look-out Rickles – expect to have an easy night. Instead, it's discovered that the little girl, Abigail, is the daughter of a crime boss legendary for tearing his enemies apart. That's when the doors and windows are suddenly barricaded. People begin to die violently. The crew try to determine what is happening... Before discovering that Abigail herself is responsible. The little ballerina is a bloodthirsty, invincible vampire. The night only gets bloodier from there.

Having now seen the movie, I understand why "Abigail" wasn't called "Dracula's Daughter." First off, it has nothing to do with the 1936 film of that title, reducing its connection to Bram Stoker's beloved count to an in-joke. Secondly, the film is clearly designed to be seen without the audience knowing it's about vampires. From early on, Abigail is playing her kidnappers against each other, trying to convince Joey that Frank is secretly the brutal crime boss. The identity of the killer is kept a secret for the first half-hour, people being picked off by an unseen assailant. The reveal that Abigail is a vicious vampire, more than capable of ripping her captors apart, is clearly meant to be a twist. The trailers and the entire advertising campaign spoiled that twist. Still, "Abigail" is not done catching the audience off-guard. The film is as much "Reservoir Dogs" as it is "From Dusk Till Dawn," mining tension out of the ensemble's inability to trust each other. Abigail reveals powers that further turn the gang against each other. Before the final act kicks in, more swerves are thrown into the narrative. At its best moments, "Abigail" keeps you guessing, never quite sure where it might go next. At its worst, the writers and directors are preoccupied with throwing in more and more twists. I guess a degree of unpredictability is worth a script that is a bit too self-conscious about its own cleverness. 

It must be said that "Abigail" is a fairly clever take on the vampire premise. The secluded mansion setting, with its secret passageways and elaborate machinery, recalls Radio Silence's own "Ready or Not" but is a neat location for a vampire to run loose in. Among Abigail's suite of superpowers is the ability to psychically control those she's bitten. This leads to probably my favorite sequence in the film, an impromptu dance number in a shadowy alcove set to a classic Danzig number. To a certain subset of horror fans, "Abigail" will win points because it is fucking bloody. When exposed to sunlight, these vampires don't simply simmer and smoke. They explode in a geyser of blood. That goes for individual limbs too. By the final stake through the heart, the survivors of "Abigail" have been covered head to toe in the red stuff. The action choreography, which involves lots of flipping through the air and acrobatic throws, could have been more cleanly assembled. By the end, I think the film had pushed its bloody mayhem as far as it could. Either way, "Abigail" can be commended for its commitment to Grand Guignol theatrics. 

"Abigail" has been classified as a horror/comedy but it's not a wacky gag fest the way "Renfield" was. Instead, this is a horror/comedy in the way classic eighties genre mash-ups like "Fright Night" and "Return of the Living Dead" were. The humor arises out of the interactions between the characters, the threat being played straight no matter how unlikely it gets. The film does assemble a strong cast to bring its antiheroes and criminal scumbags to life. Melissa Barrera is more likable here than in her "Scream" movies, bringing a more grounded sense of vulnerability to her tough girl act. Dan Stevens repeatedly steals the show as Frank, a shifty fellow who only grows more underhanded as the story goes on. Kevin Durand and the late Angus Cloud both get some decent laughs as the simple-minded Peter and Dean, with Durand bringing a little pathos to his part too. Kathryn Newton – who has really established herself as an underrated Scream Queen of the moment – also shines as a bratty rich girl shoved into this wild situation. Giancarlo Esposito shows up to deliver some basic exposition but he's one of those actors who can easily make a meal out of a thin part like this. The script's expletive laden dialogue is definitely trying too hard but "Abigail" invests far more time and energy in its characters than a lot of horror films do. 

But what of Abigail herself? A monster movie is only as good as its monster after all. When I first saw the trailer for "Abigail," I was admittedly skeptical. Simply because, as "M3GAN" proved last year, I don't think little girls doing TikTok dances make for intimidating villains. It is true that Abigail does ballet all throughout the film, often emphasizing her various deadly actions with a spin or pirouette. It plays a little better in execution than in the trailers, though it still strikes me as silly sometimes. 13 year old Alisha Weir – previously of the film of the musical of the film of the book "Mathilda" – does well enough in the part. The profane dialogue is not convincing coming out of her petite face, making a number of negotiation scenes not entirely effective. Her various shrieks and barrier-busting blows seem a little silly to me. Weir is good enough, and the film around her sturdy enough, to make the sight of a 70 pound preteen girl tossing grown adults around more intimidating than laughable. I still don't know if the world needed two dancing pint-sized murderesses but Abigail ultimately won me over. 

The film features a thematic element of absentee parents belatedly connecting with their children. Like the underwhelming attempts at social commentary in Radio Silence's other films, this is a hopelessly underdeveloped thread introduced to give the movie an artificial sense of depth. I do think "Abigail" is trying too hard in many ways, in its foul-mouthed dialogue, countless backstabs, and narrative right turns. When you step back and look at it, Abigail's scheme is way too convoluted. Despite that, I did find the movie to be an amusing bloodbath. The work of Stevens, Newton, and Durand add more layers to an already decently sketched batch of characters. The story kept me guessing and hooked. "Abigail's" sheer commitment to creative bloodletting impressed me. Tyler Bates' score – built around the overture to "Swan Lake," which works for both the ballet and the "Dracula" elements – is good too. Radio Silence has still yet to make a feature film that has blown me away. I'm still glad that genre films like "Abigail," a little smarter and a lot bloodier than you'd expect, get support from the big studios. It barely qualifies as part of Universal's new wave of classic monster revivals but Leigh Whannel's "Wolf Man" is lurking in the mist so hopefully that knock my socks off. [7/10]

The Devil's Messenger (1961)

In the latter days of his career, Lon Chaney Jr. would often pop on TV. He was frequently a guest star on western throughout the fifties and sixties. However, he was the star of a show once... Not that Americans knew this at the time. In 1959, Chaney would be the host of a short-lived anthology called “13 Demon Street.” He presented tales of the supernatural from a spooky old house. The series was an American/Swedish co-production, only broadcast on Swedish television. It wouldn't be until 1961 that Americans got a peek at a series, when three episodes were edited together into a feature called “The Devil's Messenger.” Chaney would film a new framing device. Both the TV show and the movie are more-or-less forgotten nowadays but the involvement of Chaney and Curt Siodmak – who wrote all three of the episodes used in the film version – makes it somewhat notable to genre historians. 

In Hell, Satan greets the soul of a young woman who committed suicide. Dubbing her Satanya, he commands her to deliver three objects to souls who will soon be damned for their actions. We see their stories: “The Photograph” follows a drunken photographer who attacks a beautiful young woman after taking a photo of a house in the snow. He soon sees her face approaching him, closer and closer, every time he looks at the photo. In “Girl in the Glacier,” a team of archeologists uncover a beautiful woman's body, perfectly preserved in the ice. One of them becomes obsessed with the frozen girl, willing to kill to protect her. “Condemned in the Crystal” has a man facing his fears by entering a house he has reoccurring nightmares about. Inside is a fortune teller, who warns him he's going to die, a prophecy he unwillingly brings to life. 

When episodes of a TV show are edited into a movie, you can usually tell. “The Devil's Messenger's” anthology format might've presented a chance to disguise this but it's still all too evident. The episodes have clearly been cut down, sometimes in weird ways that make them harder to follow. “Girl in the Glacier's” ending is rendered almost incoherent by a curious cut. “Condemned in the Crystal” also seems to have been clipped around, the audience seeing a split second of the first scene before it really starts. Moreover, the boxed-in visual style of early sixties television is impossible to miss. This is very true of “The Photograph,” as the scenes of the man discovering the woman in the snow and attacking her are awkwardly framed. 

Aside from the inescapable feeling that the audience is being cheated, presented with a glorified clip show instead of a proper movie, the stories in “The Devil's Messenger” aren't very good. All three have unlikable protagonists, each one detestable men that think they are entitled to women's bodies. Each of these guys get their comeuppance but you never get the impression that we're supposed to be cheering for their punishment. The protagonist of “The Photographer” is especially obnoxious, a cranky drunk who is always yelling at everyone. Upon seeing the woman preserved in the ice, the scientist in “Girl in the Glacier” immediately becomes an unhinged lunatic. “Condemned in the Crystal” also has a blustering jack-ass for a hero, while featuring far too much story for such a short segment. The plot feels rather directionless in that segment, the scenario seeming to change several times before the predictable ending.

As for its horror content, “The Devil's Messenger” is also underwhelming. “The Photograph” has a potentially creepy premise, an image in a photo coming closer to claim a guilty man. It's also an idea that has been explored in before, swiped from M.R. James' "The Mezzotint" and later put to better use in the pilot movie of “Night Gallery” and Stephen King's “The Sun Dog.” “Girl in the Glacier” at least has an odd premise and a pretty cool death scene involving freezing water. Even if it's set-up is totally free of suspense and whatever weirdness is going on here is never exactly explained, it's still probably the best segment in the film. “Condemned in the Crystal” gets a little bit of mileage out of its old house setting. However, its story doesn't even begin to get interesting until the very end. 

It's not entirely surprising to report that the best thing about “The Devil's Messenger” is Lon Chaney Jr. playing Satan. There was clearly little money to film these new scenes, as Hell seems to be composed of a desk sitting in a cave and a row of people waiting to get in. Karen Kadler is terribly stiff as “Satanya.” However, Chaney – dressed in a simple buttoned down shirt, because the Devil is a humble guy, I guess – naturally hams it up in the part. The final scene of the movie, in which Chaney as Satan declares his latest plan for humanity and speaks right to the audience, is without a doubt the highlight of the movie. Otherwise, “The Devil's Messenger” is exactly as forgettable as I imagined. All of “13 Demon Street” is available in the States now but the quality of the segments in this film isn't pushing me to check it out. [5/10]

Creepshow: Parent Death Trap/To Grandmother's House We Go

Inheritance and greed is the theme of the third episode of “Creepshow: Season Four.” In “Parent Death Trap,” Lyle Veljohnson is the constantly hen-pecked and belittled teenage son of millionaires, Loretta and Archibald. When his prom date – Violet, the daughter of another rich family – stands him up, he goes into a rage and kills both his parents. Instead of finding peace, he's constantly haunted by their ghosts, who continue to nag him from beyond the grave. When he meets Violet – who is now broke after her parents got caught laundering funds – in a grocery store, he begins an honest relationship with her. It seems Lyle's life might finally turn around, Mom and Dad going easy on him... But Violet has secrets of her own.

“Parent Death Trap” represents “Creepshow” in one of its silly moods. This is blatantly comedic episode, with Lyle's parents – Dad holding his decapitated head, Mom's guts dangling out – bickering with their son as much as possible. Loretta Walsh and Shaughnessy Redden's performances are suitably ridiculous, each adopting exaggerated accents. In fact, the ghostly parents are so totally awful, that they border on annoying. You don't really buy their attempt to reconcile with their son, after treating him so terribly in life and death. Following “Creepshow's” E.C. Comics logic, Lyle must be punished for his crimes though. What Violet is actually up to is easy to predict. However, the segment's ending is fittingly ironic enough that it made me chuckle. Throw in a little sex and blood and this would've fit right in on HBO's “Tales from the Crypt.” Director P.J. Pesce  – who previously made direct-to-video sequels to “From Dusk Till Dawn” and “The Lost Boys,” as well as lots of TV – has the right, cock-eyed approach to silly material like this.

“To Grandmother's House We Go” concerns greedy gold-digger Marcia, who marries a rich man strictly for his fortune, much to his elderly sister's chagrin. After he dies, Marica and her newly acquired stepdaughter, Ruby, are left broke. When she receives the news that her sister-in-law is sickly and fading fast, Marcia is overjoyed. Ruby will inherit the family fortune and she'll be on easy street. While traveling up the road to the family estate, their car hits some sort of creature. Soon, Ruby is plucked from the vehicle by what turns out to be a werewolf. Marcia has to survive the night and save her stepdaughter if she hopes to get her hands on that money. 

Marcia, played by an appropriately hammy Keegan Connor Tracy, is not as despicable as any of the characters in the first half of this episode. She's definitely a greedy, manipulative person. At first, she seems to only have a mercenary interest in Ruby. However, as the night of terror with the werewolf goes on, she stands up to protect the girl from the beast. By the end, she seems to have claimed the girl as her own. This compelling character, and the tension inherent in a stand-off with a monster on a dark road, makes “To Grandmother's House We Go” a decent twenty minutes. Director Justin G. Dyck – previously of “Anything for Jackson” and a horde of made-for-TV romances – creates some decently spooky images. Even if the werewolf isn't the best looking I've ever seen. I was so won over by Marcia's spunkiness by the end that I'm not sure I like the required ironic ending. Still, this is one of this season's more balanced couplets so far. [Parent Death Trap: 7/10 / To Grandmother's House We Go: 7/10]

Chucky: Jennifer's Body

The third episode of "Chucky's" third season is devoted to filling in the gaps since last year. Right as Chucky was about to get revenge on Tiffany Valentine/Jennifer Tilly, the cops busted in to arrest her for all her crimes. A high profile trial ensued, Tiff/Jennifer convicted of murder in Texas. Meanwhile, Chucky hits the road with Caroline, his new homicidal apprentice. That's when the killer doll notices something unusual: He's aging. It turns out his exposure to a Christian exorcism last season had him fall out of favor with Voodoo snake god Damballa. Now, his only hope to reverse his newfound mortality is to perform six sacrifices in a house of great evil... Prompting the doll to hatch his most fiendish plot yet. 

My fondness for "Seed of Chucky" – not the most highly regarded entry in this franchise – steams from how it operated as a gonzo sitcom about a family of killer dolls. That promise is almost fulfilled in "Jennifer's Body." (Definitely the most clever of the homage titles so far.) This episode is essentially a bloody comedy about a bloodthirsty plaything with a grudge hitting the road with his new psycho-in-training. The results are played for spectacularly silly humor. Chucky and Caroline's conversation in the back of a cab is misinterpreted by a cranky driver, played by special guest Kenan Thompson, who gets an utterly brilliant credit placement. There's a stop-off at a voodoo-themed clinic, an amusing absurd premise played perfectly straight. A murder in a famous horror landmark – an example of how to do references to genre history correctly – collapses into frustrated squabbling between Chucky and his latest ward. All along, there are bursts of demented gore, elaborate murder scenes that function at just the right middle point between ridiculously goofy and squirm-inducingly gross. John Hyams directed this episode too and he's really in his element here. A point-of-view shot fantastically subverts audience expectations.

Brad Dourif's charismatic, smart-ass performance as the plastic executioner has always been the most special thing about this franchise. Over the decades, he has turned Chucky into a weirdly deep character. That is especially evident here, as the doll now suddenly has to deal with the fact that he's aging. That's a nightmare we can all relate to. Chucky finding threads of hair on his pillow or bags under his eyes humanizes the diminutive villain further. This is paired with his weirdly sincere bond with Caroline. Carina Battrick has fantastic chemistry with Dourif's voice and the doll prop. There is a sense of, dare I say, pathos to the scene where these two have to say goodbye. You get the impression that Chucky and Caroline actually like each other, that he's not manipulating her for his own ends. That she's the daughter he's always wanted. It's a weird thing to say but I'm glad that this series and show has been allowed to evolve to this point. 

The rest of "Jennifer's Body" is devoted to the Tilly trial. Thankfully, this is played as high-speed camp. When we have a quadriplegic with claw hands chasing a little kid through Times Square in a wheelchair, I knew the right tone was established. Jennifer Tilly continues to have a ball playing this unhinged sort-of/kind-of version of herself, using her Kewpie Doll voice and movie star glamour to accentuate and subvert the comedy. Fiona Dourif also gets some highlight moments, showing once again that she's as talented at crazy faces and demented laughs as her dad. That all of this off-beat weirdness is playing out against the stately seriousness of the court room makes it all a better joke. 

As with last season's "Death on Denial," this episode shows that "Chucky" works best when focusing on the dilemmas of being a killer doll, the franchise's established cast, and the mayhem. My only complaint is the somewhat flippant manner it dismissed a long-time hero of the story, though there might be a way to wiggle out of that... We'll see. Either way, "Jennifer's Body" is sure to be a highlight of season three. [8/10]