Probably helped out by being the son of Norman Bates, Oz Perkins has quickly established a specific brand for himself as a genre filmmaker. "The Blackcoat's Daughter" and "I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House" were high on eerie ambiance, isolation, and precise set design. Perkins finally combined that with a compelling narrative and characters with interior lives in "Gretel & Hansel," the first of his films I actually loved. This got me excited for his next feature, "Longlegs," especially once I read that it starred Nicolas Cage as a serial killer. Largely thanks to an effectively creepy marketing campaign, distributor NEON built up a good degree of hype for the film this past July and made it a surprise hit. This is atop some hyperbolic reviews that called the film the scariest to appear in quite a while. Now that the dust has settled, what's my takeaway on this one?
FBI agent Lee Harker displays ambiguous clairvoyant powers during a manhunt. This causes Supervisor Carter to assign her to the bureau's most baffling case. Since the sixties, there have been a string of incidents where a father would massacre his family before killing himself. At the scene of the crime, an encoded letter signed by "Longlegs" is left, despite no signs of forced entry. Lee studies the evidence and quickly connects the cases, each murder occurring near the 9th birthday of each family's daughter. Further investigation reveals occult symbolism in this pattern, with Harker and Carter uncovering a strange doll patterned after the family's daughter at one of the crime scenes. The deeper into the case Lee goes, the closer she comes to encountering the strange man behind the killings, his otherworldly motivations, and the personal connection she has to these events.
In other words, many of the ingredients for a successfully distressing horror film are present here. And "Longlegs" certainly is creepy, often overwhelming the viewer into a state of discomfort through its visual and aural suggestions. However, as a narrative experience and piece of cinematic art, I found the film to be frustrating. Like Perkins' first two features, the movie takes a vague approach to its own story. We don't learn Longlegs' modus operandi until twenty minutes or so before the end. The mechanics of how the killer operates are fairly simple, by the standard of fictional occult serial killers/black magicians. The script takes a needlessly roundabout way to revealing this, bogging its story down in ritualistic symbols, algorithms, and codes that the protagonist must unravel. Certain elements are left largely vague – such as the nature of Lee's apparent psychic powers – while other parts are explained via lengthy expositonary scenes. All of this combines with glacial pacing, heavy on long silences and meaningful glares. "Longlegs" is paced like a nightmare, it's true. This means it is unsettling and that it is composed of two hours that feel like four.
A snippet from an interview where Perkins admits that the film was inspired by his own mother – Tony's longtime beard Berry Berenson, who died in the September 11th attacks – is the closest Rosetta Stone I can find to unravelling "Longlegs." The birthdays of daughters is the reoccurring thread that connects all of the killer's victims. The glimpses we get of Lee's mother, which increase throughout the film, hint at a smothering, emotionally manipulative relationship. When one of the family slaughters occur on-screen in the last act, it feels all the world like a domestic incident performed by an abusive, short-tempered dad. Despite his outwardly effeminate features, Longlegs himself operates as something like a twisted absentee father figure to Lee, as this distant image from her past that sends her letters every once in a while. I guess that means his chosen nickname is short for Daddy Longlegs? As if there's any doubt of this persistent subtext, the killer's favorite music seems to be seventies glam rock, a very Dad-ish genre. None of these ideas seem to convalesce into a coherent meaning to me, acting instead as undercurrents that operate as part of the film's dream logic, connecting some of its twists and turns.
I guess the kind of emotional coldness that Perkins specializes in is hard for me to jive with. The film's standout sequences of gory special effects are effective. The swallowing atmosphere of dread engineered throughout is impressive. The cast, cinematographer, sound designer, and production artists all do excellent work. However, "Longlegs" so intentionally denying us any insight into its characters, their motives, or the events that starts these dominos falling makes it hard for me to truly connect with the movie. Maybe Perkins' next gig, a mainstream Stephen King adaptation, will work better for me. Maybe this is a filmmaker who needs to place his ideas within a recognizable story structure, like a fairy tale or a Kingian ghost story, for me to link to his work. Because I came away from "Longlegs" admiring it more as a technical achievement than as a piece of storytelling. [7/10]
Vincent Price never set out to become best known for playing villains, much less primarily associated with the horror genre. If you look at his early parts, it's mostly handsome leading man roles and supporting characters in various noirs. That all changed with "Shock," a little, noir-tinged psycho thriller that turned a modest profit for Fox in 1946. This proved that audiences most liked to see the actor playing sinister ne'er-do-wells, setting him on the road towards horror stardom. Price never had much positive to say about the movie. In Victoria Price's biography on her dad, she said he derisively referred to the movie as "Schlock." Yet I had never seen it before and decided now was the time to check it out.
While awaiting her prisoner-of-war husband's return home, Janet nervously sits in a hotel room. From the window, she sees a man bludgeon his wife to death with a candle stick. The shock of this sight leaves Janet in a catatonic state. Her husband calls for the doctor staying in the hotel, Dr. Cross... Who happens to be the murderous man Janet saw. Quickly figuring out what happened, Cross has Janet committed to his clinic. Conspiring with his nurse, who is also his mistress, Cross tries to get Janet to forget what she saw. When she starts to directly accuse the doctor of murder, Cross plots to get rid of the sole witness to his crime for good.
Instead, this really is Price's movie. Unlike the campy bad guy roles he'd later become famous for, Vincent mostly underplays it here. There's a moment when someone suggests that Dr. Cross might have had some role in what Janet saw and you can see the sense of panic briefly crosses Price's face. His great talent for saying one thing but clearly feeling another is apparent during a tense meeting with a detective. Despite being a murderer, "Shock" weirdly plays Cross as a sympathetic character. He talks about coming clean multiple times, clearly feeling conflicted about his actions. It's Lynn Bari as Elaine, the scheming Lady MacBeth/femme fatale, that continuously pushes him towards more wicked actions. This points towards "Shock's" less-than-stellar politics, that repeatedly center the men in a story about a woman's plight. That marks this film as truly a product of 1946. As a fan of Vincent Price, seeing a more nuanced, layered take on the type of murdering, bitter husbands he would play many other times is quite interesting.
"Shock" is in the public domain, so many low quality copies of the film circulate around all over the place. (Often paired with that other Price-starring public domain favorite, "House on Haunted Hill.") Luckily, a nice restored edition was put out on disc as part of Fox's Classic Noir Collection, so you can find a decent looking print of the movie with minimal effort. By no means a classic – and barely qualifying for a marathon of creepy movies – "Shock" is definitely still worth seeking out for Vincent Price fans. You can see the beginning of his style as an actor formulating here while losing out on none of the star presence that made him such an irresistible presence in so many films. Add in some nifty cinematography and it gets a recommendation from me. [7/10]
It seems “Creepshow,” or maybe Greg Nicotero specifically, has to pay homage to its forefathers at least once a season. The required referential episode arrives with “George Romero in 3D.” Sarah's brick-and-motor book store is failing, amid pressure from their asshole landlord. That's when her horror nerd son, Martin, discovers a crate containing unpublished comic books written by George Romero. Such priceless collectables could save the business but Martin has to put on the 3-D glasses contained within the comics... Which causes the zombies from within the pages to leap into reality. And they're only visible with the glasses on. Luckily, the pages also contain a facsimile of George Romero himself, who is willing to help the kid.
As far as “Creepshow's” overly meta episodes go, “George Romero in 3D” is less suffocatingly smug than “Skeletons in the Closet” and stands alone better than “Night of the Living Late Show.” The monster kid hero, played by Graham Verchere, is mildly likable and resists dropping a movie title every five minutes. (Though his name, Martin, is one of several obvious Romero homages here.) The central gimmick, the zombies being invisible unless you look at them through the 3D glasses, leads to some interesting gore sequences. The zombies themselves are, like classical Romero ghouls, more intelligent than your average shambler too, allowing the threat level to increase as the episode goes along. Sebastian Kroon plays Romero, as an avuncular but humble figure that peppers his sentence with outdated slang. I also like the “Take On Me” style animation placed over top him. It is kind of weird that they chose comics as the medium here, which Romero didn't work in until much later in his career. What if the kids had found the script for “Diamond Dead” instead?
“Baby Teeth” is based in an anxiety most anyone can relate to. Every kid grows up and comes into conflict with their parents. Every parent has to accept that their offspring isn't their little baby anymore. Miranda, played by a nicely neurotic Rochelle Greenwood, is sympathetic as it becomes clear how much of her anxious personality has been molded by a life of loss and abandonment. Her obsessive clinginess is also rightfully off-putting. This makes us feel bad for Shelby, allowing her bratty, rebellious teenager shenanigans to be more tolerable. The way the script slowly reveals the folkloric aspect of its premise are well done. A folk horror spin on the Tooth Fairy is one I'm surprise I haven't seen before. The episode also features probably the gooiest, grossest monster of “Creepshow's” fourth season. Like too many of this season's episodes, it fumbles the ending. This is another “Creepshow” installment that proves John Harrison is probably this series' most consistent director. [George Romero in 3-D: 6/10 / Baby Teeth: 7/10]
Having ripped President Collins' eyes out and stolen his access card, “Panic Room” sees Chucky going after the big ones: Nuclear weapons. Warren Pryce replaces the President with a double, as part of a massive cover-up that deeply disturbs the First Lady. (Who is still seeing ghost around the White House.) The fake president and Henry are soon being held at gunpoint by an aging, homicidal doll. On the same day, Lexy manages to talk Grant into letting her, Devon, and Jake come to the White House. They reveal the truth about why they are there, Lexy determined to find out where her sister is before Charles Lee Ray shuffles off this mortal coil forever. It all ends with a tense confrontation in the Situation Room.
Earlier, I said I hoped season three of “Chucky” would take the White House cover-up angle in increasingly wacky directions. I'm glad to say this has come to pass. When Pryce brings in a look-a-like to play the now deceased President, he reveals that this is not an altogether uncommon experience. That intelligence agencies perform all sorts of operations to insure the government remains running smoothly. Yes, this show is arguing for the existence of the Deep State. (Pryce also says supernatural events are discreetly handled by the government all the time too, so it's also arguing for the existence of the X-Files.) But “Chucky” being a smart-ass comedy, it quickly reveals the presidential doppelganger to be a nerdy, socially awkward actor type just happy to have this chance. That allows Devon Sawa to get some of the biggest laughs he's had over his three years on this show.
Needless to say: Decrepit, dying Chucky is all out of fucks to give. While this could've seen Brad Dourif take the character in a more nihilistic direction, he remains a sarcastic little bastard up until the end. Watching this pint-sized rubber psycho threaten people and makes quips about pizza cutters, gun safety, and his mother remains delightful to me. No matter how goofy Chucky's one-liners get, the show never undersells what a threat he remains. As he slams a pen into a secret service agent's skull, describing what parts of the brain he is severing, it's a testament to the amount of genuinely sinister energy this absurd character have been gifted over the years. Around the time this episode aired, it was announced that Brad Dourif was retiring from acting. That retirement doesn't extend to any future “Chucky” projects, “Panic Room” still feels like a tribute to the great actor.
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