Halloween 2025: September 30th

Rapture (1979)
Arrebato

If it wasn't obvious already, when I think of Spanish genre cinema, names like Paul Naschy or Jess Franco tend to come to mind for me first. Motion pictures of that sort were often exploitation cheapies, filtering familiar horror tropes through a distinctively European sensibility. A lot of them were also, notably, made while dictator Francisco Franco was still in power. When Franco finally died in 1975, it obviously led to wide-spread cultural shifts. Out of this moment emerged a social movement and subculture known as La Movida Madrileña. It was defined by punk rock, synth music, new attitudes about sexuality, and people doing lots of drugs. There were Madrileña movies too. Ivan Zulueta was a director artsy short films, a poster designer, and a full-time heroin addict. He would draw on all three of these inspirations when making 1979's “Arrebato.” Known as “Rapture” in English, the film would become a cult classic in Spain before slowly gathering a reputation around the world as a classic of art house horror. Well, let's give this one a look.

Jose is a filmmaker who has found little satisfaction directing low budget monster movies. His relationship with his girlfriend, Ana, is slowly dissolving because of his growing dependency on heroin. This is when he receives a package from an old friend, Pedro. Inside is an audio cassette and a film reel. The recording describes how Jose and Pedro, an obsessive creator of home-made movies and also an addict, first met. Pedro became increasingly obsessed with time-lapse photographer, determined to discover something special on-film. While trying to get clean and relapsing, Pedro discovered a time lapse recording of himself as he slept. Right before he startled awake, the film reel went completely red. He attempted to uncover what happened in those red squares. Jose becomes fascinated by this mystery as well, following the clues back to Pedro's apartment to uncover what led to his disappearance. 

“Arrebato” is a motion picture about the medium of the motion picture itself. Its opening image is of an actress, playing a vampire, looking directly into the camera. This is meant to establish the boundaries of the fourth wall, that barrier that separates fact from fiction. The characters in “Rapture” are film obsessives themselves. Jose is dissatisfied with working in the medium itself, unable to find the ecstasy in making movies himself that he's discovered when watching them. Pedro, meanwhile, is so enamored with trying to discover some sort of greater truth through filmmaking that his amateur productions bring him to tears. Film is a transcendent medium, which can bring dreams to life and make the imagination a moving illusion of physical reality. Zulueta's movie plays with the medium itself. Once or twice, the image develops a stuttering start-and-stop, much like the time-lapse movies Pedro makes. At first, I wondered if Shudder was starting to skip during these moments. Cameras, film, and screens are featured all throughout “Arrebato” and the film is very concerned with finding some deeper meaning in these ideas.

However, I do wish Zulueta's film delve into the question of what the obsessive movie fan seeks out a little more. I'm one myself. I know why I hunger for movies, to seek and uncover hidden gems and dig into the meaning of what I observe. I want to learn, to see other people's experiences. Moreover, film is an audio/visual dreamscape that wash over the viewer, overwhelming our eyes and ears and bringing the impossible to life. It means a lot to me. What does the medium mean to the characters in “Arrebato?” Much of the runtime is devoted to Pedro's final message, his memories of events that led up to his disappearance. He talks about the “rapture” he feels at the moving image. “Rapture” is typically described as an intense pleasure or joy, euphoria, bliss, elation. I've certainly experience those emotions from discovering a good movie. Yet the rapture spoken of her seems to imply some deeper meaning behind the act of recording and being recorded itself. 

And what does that mean? For all “Arrebato” talks about the joy of watching and recording, we see the characters do surprisingly little watching or recording themselves. The closest we get is Ana observing a Betty Boop doll she had as a girl while in the throes of a heroin high. Does looking at this doll remind Ana of simpler times, transporting her back to her childhood? Is film making a form of time travel, revealing the past to us as it happened? As “Rapture” goes on, the implication seems to be more and more that the camera can capture something that the human eye cannot. Frustratingly, the movie never seems ready to actually comment on what these ideas mean to the characters. I kept waiting for a reveal about what Pedro discovered by recording himself sleeping, that his time lapse films accidentally exposed some cosmic truth. “Arrebato” is not the kind of movie interested in answers however. Its vagueness forces the viewer to come not only to their own conclusions about what the story implies but also what deeper topics it's commenting on.

Assuming, of course, that “Rapture” is primarily a movie about movie making. I mean, it obviously is but it's also, fairly explicitly, a movie about heroin. We see Jose dissolve the powder in a spoon, fill up a syringe, and inject the substance into his arm. Characters repeatedly spread out white lines and snort them. Jose gives Ana a taste of the drug at one point. Before the end arrives, she's hooked too. Pedro is already a junkie, which he bonds with Jose over. The characters grow paler, sweatier, and skinnier as the movie goes on. Considering Zulueta was also a drug addict while making the film, we can assume he's speaking from experience. That seems to be the primary thematic point of “Arrebato.” The characters search for a grand ecstasy in the moving image the same way they keep shooting up, looking for a subsequent high that compares to the first one. Yes, being a movie fanatic is sometimes like being a drug addict. It can take over your life. You keep searching for films in hopes of finding as transcendent an experience as the one that got you hooked. I'm not sure I've reached a point, however, where the camera and all it represents begins to direct me, the way an addict looses control of their life to their drug of choice. If “Rapture” reflects that experience for other people, so be it. That didn't speak to me though.

I've never done heroin. I think it would be a bad idea if I did. From what I've read about the effects of a heroin high, “Arrebato” seems to seek to recreate a similar feeling in the viewer. It's a slow, meandering movie. There are digressions not directly linked to the story. Such as Pedro heading out on a night on the town with a woman. Or Ana dressing up and doing a little song and dance for Jose. Despite the neutrality of these depictions, there's a sinister undercurrent throughout. When “Arrebato” finally moves towards proper horror in its last act, it is a creepy and unsettling pay-off of everything that came before. The final image is properly spooky. You are going to have to be patient to get there though.

“Rapture” is definitely a very interesting experience. However, for a movie as much about being a movie watcher, it seems strangely simplistic in its understanding of what movies are. Maybe you'll get more out of it if you're also a drug addict. There's a sleaziness to its horse-cooked imagery that is effective. This is the kind of movie that makes you feel a little scummy, for putting you so totally into its underworld. However, I don't think the parallels between being a film junkie and a literal junkie are that deep. Zulueta's own career was derailed by his drug problem, the man nearly self-destructing like his character do. Perhaps if he saw more movies and got high less I would relate to this one a bit more. “Arrebato” is ultimately one I admire more than I can actually praise. [7/10]

 

 

 

Past Midnight (1991)

The legend of Quentin Tarantino – loud-mouthed asshole, belligerent cokehead, full-time Zionist, Polanski defender, maybe the greatest American director of his generation – is that he went from working in a video store in Manhattan Beach, California to writing and directing "Reservoir Dogs" overnight. This is not true, of course. He worked on two uncompleted student films, was a lowly production assistant on Dolph Lundgren's workout tape, and played the undignified role of an Elvis impersonator in an episode of "The Golden Girls." His first job as a professional Hollywood screenwriter was a little-seen thriller called "Past Midnight." The film is not mentioned in his main Wikipedia article but it is his earliest industry credit on IMDb. How Tarantino became involved with the production, I don't know. What we do know is that he rewrote much of the script. Supposedly, star Rutger Hauer disliked the changes and refused to perform any of Tarantino's dialogue while original screenwriter, Frank Norwood, declined to share credit. The future "Pulp Fiction" auteur was given an Associate Producer role as a compromise and that was that. The movie ended up going straight to the USA Network before being dumped on video, rarely mentioned since. However, surely the technical debut of a film nerd God starring a cult face like Hauer is worth a second look? Let's find out. 

Fifteen years ago, Ben Jordan came home drunk and violently stabbed his pregnant wife to death. This is what the evidence, including a home movie showing the murder, would seem to suggest. Proclaiming that he had no memory of the crime the whole time, Jordan was sent away to prison. Now, he has been released on good behavior with Laura Matthews assigned as his social worker. She is charmed by the quiet, passionate Ben. The two fall on love and she begins to question the narrative that he is guilty. Laura rents a cabin in his home town and starts to dig into what happened that night. Her asking questions about the killing arouses suspicion among the locals and pisses off her coworker Lee, who has a crush on her. Soon, Laura is being stalked and threatened by an unseen assailant. Oh yeah, she's pregnant too, Ben is acting more and more erratic, and other people around begin to die. 

"Past Midnight" attempts to derive tension from the question at the center of the narrative: Well, did he do it? The system deemed Ben guilty. The opening shows him emerging from his home, covered with blood, and clearly panicked. The home movie shows someone stabbing his wife to death, the killer's face unrevealed, but there's no evidence anyone else was in the house that night. Ben proclaims his innocence, has no interest in digging up the past, and simply wants to move on with his life. Laura encounters multiple suspicious people as she investigates what happened. Such as the victim's blustery father who might have had an inappropriate relationship with his daughter. The town simpleton, Larry Canipe, seems awfully guilty about something and follows Laura in one scene. Once the violent harassment starts, you begin to wonder if Lee has gone insane with jealousy over Laura's relationship with Ben. Throughout it all, Ben doesn't exactly act innocent either. He breaks into her cabin, stands over her bed as she sleeps, grows wild-eyed and sweaty at various points. The narrative would seem to demand that Ben is the victim of an elaborate frame-up but he sure seems crazy. The film effectively generates a proper amount of uncertainty over whether Ben slashed his wife to death or not. If Laura was right to trust him and if that willingness to forgive has only put her in more danger. 

The film also points, perhaps unintentionally, towards another idea. Laura is truly the only female character of any importance in “Past Midnight.” There's the dead wife, a friend in all of one scene, a lady client at the start, and an awfully curious nurse at the doctor's office. Otherwise, the protagonist is alone as the sole woman in this world. And she is surrounded on all sides by shitty dudes. Lee is a friend, a co-worker, and possibly a former lover. He definitely doesn't seem to respect Laura's boundaries though, constantly pushing for more of a relationship. When he shows up to intimate Ben at his job, it reads less like concern over his friend now dating a convicted murderer and more like petty jealousy. Not that Ben is much better either. He also clearly doesn't respect Laura's privacy much, coming and going from her cabin whenever he pleases. Every man in the film is a shifty, hard-to-trust weirdo who thinks a woman is little more than a man's property. You also see this in how the victim's father seems more indignant that something that belonged to him was destroyed than specifically the loss of his child. Or in the way a police detective describes the footage of the murder as nastier than “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” hardly the serious manner you'd want a recording of someone actually dying to be handled with. 

It's hard to say if “Past Midnight” was intentionally making a feminist point or not. Tarantino's later work would become famous for freely mixing elements together from multiple subgenres. “Past Midnight” is heavily noir influenced, with its story of a protagonist getting in over their heads as they navigate a world where no one can be trusted. There's a little of the erotic thriller style present, especially in the extended sex scene between Laura and Ben. (Lots of hair pulling there.) Once the murders begin, the film starts to resemble a trashier horror flick. There's a dismembered arm left behind, threatening messages scrawled in blood. It only gets schlockier as after the killer is revealed. With little prompting, the knife wielding maniac reveals his modus operandi and his Freudian excuse for the killings. The finale is set during a deluge, features lots of shattering glass, slow-motion, and a rifle going off like an explosion. Good stuff, in other words, if you enjoy trash like this. 

Watching “Past Midnight” evolve from a slightly silly but mostly played straight neo-noir into a goofier, over overheated film is very entertaining. This divide is reflected in the cast too. Natasha Richardson stars as Laura and she gives a minor-key, likable performance. It's the kind of acting, lived-in and fleshed-out without devoting much screen time to backstory, that suggests a serious actor doing their job. Clancy Brown is far more understated than usual as Lee, making him seem as much like a normal guy as possible. In his screen debut, Paul Giametti has the embarrassing job of playing a Faulknerian man-child. His visible gulping and big, sad eyes make the character a little more than a cliché. Sticking out among all this fairly understated acting is Rutger Hauer, doing the things you pay Rutger Hauer to do. In other words, those steely blue eyes bulge with intensity, Hauer bringing a sense of desperation to the character that suggests he could fly off the angle at any second. That actually adds to the suspense in the film, as it makes Ben seem more believable as a possible killer. 

You can hear Tarantino's voice in “Past Midnight” too. The dialogue is peppered with the occasional pop culture reference. Moreover, there's a conversational element to the discussion, that feel a lot less route than what you'd normally hear in a movie like this and more like stuff people would actually say in real life. Director Jan Eliasberg has worked almost exclusively in television besides this. He does not display much of a visual eye, though a scene of Lee fishing outside Laura's cabin while she makes a disturbing discovery is cut together fairly well. That “Past Midnight” wind up debuting on the USA Network is fitting, as the entire film feels a bit like a weirder, sexier, bloodier episode of “Silk Stalkings.” Exactly the kind of thing that prospers from low expectations. I'm not saying this is a hidden gem, exactly, but it's a sturdy, fun little thriller worth seeking out for fans of anyone involved. [7/10]

Unsolved Mysteries: Season 9, Episode 14

I tend to think of “Unsolved Mysteries” as an entity of the late eighties and early nineties. However, the series' original run lasted until 2002, with seventeen seasons across three different networks. By season nine, the show had a slightly creepier opening sequence and a notably less creepy theme song, However, the general format remained the same. Robert Stack would gravely presents true – or at least “true” – mysteries from the shadows, while dramatic re-enactments played out. The fourteenth episode of that season is a good example of how your average “Unsolved Mysteries” varied unpredictably between normal television, the lamest shit possible and high-octane nightmare fuel. Presented alongside a story of a man being reunited with the woman who saved his life, a lady looking for the half-sister she never knew, and a basic rundown of the facts in the case of Tupac Shakur are a bracing recreation of a brutal home invasion/robbery and a segment showing how spontaneous human combustion can strike at any point.

I watched this specific episode of “Unsolved Mysteries” because a list of the show's scariest moments high-lighted the one about spontaneous human combustion. The re-enactments here dryly combine the mundane and the hyper-dramatic. A woman's recounting of how her shirt started spouting smoke one morning is difficult to take too seriously. Later sequences, of grisly discoveries of bodies having burned to ash at super high temperatures while leaving the near-by area unaffected, are more concerning. “Spontaneous human combustion” is one of those supposed paranormal phenomena that exist only because people discard the obvious evidence in front of them. Joe Nickell of Skeptical Inquirer is here to point out that the first case was of a bed-bound smoker with a highly combustible oxygen supply near by. The second was of an infirm old man known to dropped his lit pipe on his fabric robe while carrying matches in his pocket. The believer rebuttal is from some goofy guy named Larry E. Arnold, who eventually claims SHC is a result of people's inner electric impulse magically going berserk. Despite that, the images of a blackened crater in a bed and a near-by melted TV, or a hole seared right through the floor with body parts around it, are freaky as hell. 

If you watched this shit as a kid, I could see how it would upset you. You'd be left with the disturbing information that all of us are walking human candles, simply waiting to ignite, through means either explainable or mysterious. Watching as an adult, I honestly found the opening re-enactment of the robbery more disturbing. The dramatic footage is shot through a frenzied, shaky filter that conveys the victim's shocked mind. The actual woman's recounting of what happened shows how clearly traumatized she was by the incident. The first robber wears a Dracula mask and waves a guy around, pointing it right at the screen. The version of the episode on streaming now concludes with an update, that the assholes who did this – co-workers of the woman's son – were apprehended, tried, convicted, served their time, and are now out on the street. Doesn't make you feel much better does it? When combined with Stack's hyper-dramatic narration, sometimes presented alongside plumes of fire, it's the stuff of nightmares. Not those Lost Love segments though... [7/10]

The Addams Family: Ophelia's Career

“The Addams Family” was never a massive ratings success, despite its cult following and positive critical reception. Ratings declined throughout the 1966 season, perhaps because of competition from “Batman.” Filmways was prepared to film a third season in color, the cast ready to return, but ABC canceled the show without warning in April. This left the series ending unceremoniously on an Ophelia centric episode. “Ophelia's Career” sees Morticia's judo-tossing twin sister, once again, abandoned by her latest beau. Gomez suggests that she uses Uncle Fester's chemistry set to whip up a new man for herself. When this fails to produce any results, it is suggested that Ophelia leave romance behind and focus on finding a satisfying career. A spontaneous incident with an accordion sees her attempting to pursue a job as an opera singer. Though she initially annoys her vocal coach, Ophelia reveals talent in time. Unfortunately, the family's eccentric ways – and the caustic vocal spray Fester cooks up – leads to disaster when an opera director arrives to hear Ophelia sing. 

Charles Addams himself always had little involvement with the TV show based on his cartoons, as he disliked how the series made his family “less evil.” (It also led the New Yorker refusing to publish more of his comics, as they didn't want to be associated with a low-class medium like television.) That's a fair assessment of the campy sitcom. However, the last episode does feature some slightly edgier jokes than most. The opening gag has Fester moving towards an enormous saw blade, the family delighted to see what will happen next. The music teacher hired to train Ophelia is so disgusted by what he hears, that he threatens to beat the woman. Later in the episode, the same man considers ending his own life after the Addams destroy his career. Perhaps not behavior that would classify as “evil” exactly but still a bit more mischievous and morbid than the Addams' cheerier moments in the sixties.

There are a couple of inspired gags like that in this one. Cousin Itt's glib reaction to asking to teach Ophelia sees the mound of hair producing a laugh with simply a tilt of his head. The result of this training is also nicely absurd. I also like the bits where Gomez asks Lurch to refill a barrel full of petty cash and Fester swallows a whistle. As another example of this married couple being far hornier than their contemporaries, “Ophelia's Career” also sees the wife suggesting they retreat to the play room to sing some more before Gomez suggest they “play” instead. That was surely a fairly racy quip for the time but it's actually a double subversion. The next scene sees the married couple preparing to play ice hockey minus the ice. Otherwise, this is another season two “Addams Family” installment that's a bit too heavy on the running gags. Sharp as Carolyn Jones and John Astin's delivery might be, I can only see her toss him across the room so many time. The episode also reuses an earlier gag about the gong that summons Lurch being out-of-order. While not the best episode to take the series out on, it does end up resolving Ophelia's character arc. The final scene sees her musical career working out, despite her continued habit of scaring off men. That's nice. [6/10]

As with America's other light-hearted family of gothic horrors, the abruptly canceled “The Addams Family” would have a fruitful afterlife in reruns. The characters' cultural legacy has proven far greater. A guest spot on “The New Scooby-Doo Movies” in 1972 led to a short-lived animated adaptation the next year. The 1991 big screen adaptation and its beloved sequel would also beget a Saturday morning cartoon tie-in. Those two films received a terrible direct-to-video sequel of sorts, which operated as a quasi-pilot for a short-lived revival series that I've never seen a single soul express any fondness for. There was a successful Broadway musical, two animated features of forgettable quality, multiple video games, the best selling pinball machine of all time, and lots of merch. Through it all, the Addams remain pop culture icons, perennial Halloween costume favorites, and a massive influence on goth fashion. The sardonic film version of Gomez and Morticia's daughter becoming an inspirational figure for a whole generation of dry-witted young women and guys who want a pale, dark-haired girlfriend led to Wednesday more recently getting her own streaming series. That has been very successful, meaning the Addams – or Wednesday at least – are more popular now than ever.

But what about the old TV show? As someone who grew up with the edgier Barry Sonnefield films, I believe I do prefer my Addamses to be a little more evil than the goof-ball sixties sitcom. The show relied on the same set of running gags more often than would probably be preferable. It got downright repetitive by the end of the second season. Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy the television program a lot. John Astin and Carolyn Jones remained delightful presences throughout with red hot chemistry. The entire cast become quite lovable by the end, despite certain family members never being utilized as much as they could. The episodes focused solely on the family, rather than contrasting them with squeamish “normal” folks or involved them in convoluted sitcom shenanigans, were the best. I think “The Munsters” is still my preference, as it was a funnier show on the overall. Still, I loved chilling with the Addams

Halloween 2025: September 29th

 

Cold Prey 2 (2008)

Fritt vilt II
 

The entire point of my Horror Around the World themes is to expand my horizons as a horror nerd. To not only see films I've never seen before but to expose myself to cultures I'm not that familiar with. I want to learn what the words "horror movie" mean on the African plains, the balmy beaches of the tropics, or the frozen reaches of Norway. Which begs the question of why I'm watching the sequel to the Norwegian movie I watched last September for this year's entry from the land of the fjords. Especially since the first "Cold Prey" struck me as a somewhat middling attempt to emulate the American slasher remakes of the 2000. The mountainous nation has produced more horror films than you might think, after all. Well, I'm always willing to check out a slasher flick, even if it's a sequel to a movie I didn't like that much. Maybe doubly so, since the slasher subgenre is one of the few places where sequels are often improvements over the previous installment. That seemed to be the case with "Cold Prey II," which is widely regarded as one of the best body count movies of the 2000s. Any of my Norwegian friends, please forgive me for going with another obvious pick. It's simply too hard to say no to more blood on the snow.

In the snowbound town of Otta, near the Jotunheimen mountain range, resides a small hospital that is in the process of being decommissioned. The skeleton crew of a staff – Dr. Herman, Dr. Camilla, her ambulance driver Ole, a handful of nurses and security guards – go about their business. Their quiet night is interrupted by the arrival of Jannicke, the traumatized survivor of a massacre at an abandoned ski resort in the mountains. She claims a masked man with a pickax killed her friends and dropped them in a snowy gorge. The police investigate and discover this to be true, bringing the bodies back to the morgue... Including the burly murderer, who it seems Jannicke did not kill. The hospital staff are honor bound to revive the man, despite Jannicke's protest. It's not long before the lunatic is back on his feet, swinging pickax around again, and offing the hospital staff. Jannicke, finding a fellow survivor in Camilla, is determined to end it this time.

Having moved on to Norway's first disaster movie, original “Fritt vilt” director Roar Uthaug passed the reins of Norway's first slasher franchise over to Mats Stenberg. Stenberg hasn't directed much else but he does show a more confident visual approach than Uthaug did on the first one. While the Marcus Nispel-like washed-out lighting and grayish green color palette remain, the sequel ditches the thundering musical score, frantic camerawork, chopped-up editing, and overdone musical design. In its place is a humble slasher flick that utilizes its setting for some decent suspense. A sequence where a nurse hides under a gurney, clinging to the bottom at the killer walks over head, is genuinely suspenseful. The quiet and mostly empty building makes for a fittingly creepy setting. When the film does employ flashier visuals or loud jump-scares, they are better utilized. A pickax tossed towards the camera or a seemingly dead body leaping to life are distinctive exclamation points on the build-up of tension that came before. This is most apparent in the sequel's very last image, a moment of high-attitude that takes the audience out with a chuckle and a rush.

In general, “Cold Prey II” also has a sturdy grasp on what we expect from a slasher sequel. Namely, it does mostly the same thing as the first one but bigger, bloodier, and better. The script – from Uthaug, Thomas Moldestad and Martin Sundland – seems to pattern itself after two horror sequels that did exactly that. The hospital setting seems probably inspired by “Halloween II” while the story takes more than a few queues from “Aliens.” Namely, in forcing the deeply traumatized final girl back into a confrontation with the same monster. Jannicke displays a “nuke from orbit” reaction to the mountain man's reappearance. By the climax, she heads into the villain's lair, ready to take the fight to them. The comparison is most evident in a bad-ass scene where the local police enter the hospital, armed with SWAT gear, only to be quickly overwhelmed and taken out by the murderer's more guerilla techniques. While the first “Fritt vilt” was weirdly conservative with the bloodshed, part two is notably not. The movie features a gnarly neck snapping, a spurting slashed throat, multiple fire extinguisher bludgeoning, and plenty of pick-axe impalement too.

 

Probably the biggest improvement “Cold Prey II” makes over the original is by providing us with a more fleshed-out cast. Like the first one, the sequel takes a bit of time to establish the characters before sending the masked murderer after them. Unlike the first one, they aren't an indistinct batch of spam-in-a-van cliches this time. Having the cast be a group of young professionals, instead of your typical horny teens, ads a little more personality to them. It also makes one of the subgenre's oldest cliches – a girl stops to take a shower – actually make sense. Bringing Ingrid Bolsø Berdal back, now as a perpetually on-edge survivor with no patience for mistakes, is also a good idea. She's the only one who knows how bad it's going to get, adding a bit of suspense. The script is also smart enough to make the killer, nothing more than a big dude in a ski-mask last time, into a bit more of a mythic figure. We learn he has a history this time, having been killing people up in the mountains for decades, and seems to be developing a Jason-esque tendency to shrug off seemingly fatal injuries. 

“Cold Prey 2” still doesn't utilize its wintry setting nearly as much as it could. The hospital is less isolated than the first film's ski resort, meaning the sense of icy desolation is lessened. In general, it's hard to say if these movies are the Norwegian riff on the very American slasher archetypes so much as they are Norwegian filmmakers deliberately emulating American archetypes. Nevertheless, the second one is a big improvement over the first. The sequel had the highest grossing opening weekend of any Norwegian movie ever, which probably says more about the lack of popcorn blockbuster franchises in that country than the Scandinavian appetite for slasher shenanigans. The film ends in a fairly definitive way, which did not stop a third installment from being made. I liked “Cold Prey 2” a good deal but it has mostly encouraged me to seek out more Norwegian horror in general than watching the next installment right away. [7/10]

 

Space Monster Wangmagwi (1967)
Ujugoe-in wangmagwi

A while back, I wrote about “Yongary, Monster from the Deep,” which has the distinction of being the most iconic South Korean kaiju movie of the Showa era. By which I mean it's the most direct imitator of “Godzilla.” You might think that “Yongary” was the only giant monster movie made in that country during the sixties but you'd be wrong. The fire swallowing dinosaur was beat to theaters by a few weeks by “Space Monster Wangmagwi.” Not that there was much chance to verify this for many years. The Korean Film Archive held the sole complete copy for decades, the motion picture unseen because of copyright hang-ups. Once that was cleared up, festival screenings started to pop up in Korea in the 2000s. This finally cleared the path for a proper re-release of “Wangmagwi.” Now the formerly “lost” movie can be easily seen by anyone, because we do indeed live in an age of wonders and horrors untold. As a discerning kaiju head, what's my reaction to this rare piece of monster movie history?

Across the gulf of space, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic regard this Earth with envious eyes. Namely, the tin can clad conquerors of the world known as Gamma surely draw their plans against us. That plan involves dropping an ape-like monster onto the southern plains outside of Seoul, South Korea. The creature grows to enormous size within Earth's atmosphere and quickly begins to run amok. It stomps on people, wrecks buildings, and sprays a combustible gas from its forehead. This invasion is a big inconvenience to Ahn-hee, who intends on marrying her boyfriend, Oh Jeong-hwan, that day. Oh is a fighter jet pilot and called upon by the air force to defend his homeland from the enormous beast. Ahn-hee refuses to evacuate and, while still wearing her wedding gown, is abducted by the monster. She encounters a little boy who climbs atop the giant's body, one of several incidents happening around the city in the midst of this national emergency. 

By 1967, the giant monster movies made in Japan had already gotten very silly. This was the same year Godzilla found a son, King Kong fought a robotic double, Gamera gained a dizziness prone blood-sucking rival, and not one but two strangely chicken-like leviathans flattened Tokyo. This makes it unsurprising that “Wangmagwi” is more comedy than horror film. In fact, Hyeok-jinn Gwon's film is almost akin to a sketch comedy movie at times. After Wangmagwi begins its rampage across Seoul, the movie often cuts away to a series of farcical events happening during the attack. A pair of buffoons make bets against each other as the monster attacks, offering each other money and their wives should the other die. In a shelter, a man has to take a shit at the same time a woman is about to give birth. This is unrelated to a guy climbing atop a rescue vehicle in only his underwear. The humor in “Wangmagwi” is quite scatological and juvenile. A little boy, not unlike the kid heroes from “Yongary” or the “Gamera” flicks, climbs atop Wangmagwi's head. His actions include deafening the monster by stabbing at his ear canal and disrupting its radio connection to its alien overlord. He also takes a piss inside the monster's head, a truly unexpected sight. 

Considering how knowingly ridiculous “Space Monster Wangmagwi” is, the titular titan is not the most intimidating of movie monsters. Amusingly, Wangmagwi's arrival on Earth and march towards Seoul are not depicted on-screen, merely being told to us during a news broadcast. The urban destruction is fairly brief. The monster crushes some buildings, knocks over at least one recognizable landmark – Independence Gate – and sets a city block ablaze with its fiery spray. Wangmagwi notably steps on a human being, an act Godzilla is always implied to do but rarely actually depicted as doing. He also carries a maiden around in his hand, King Kong style. However, Wangmagwi's reign of chaos is short-lived. His ultimate defeat is rather anticlimactic. In general, he's a fairly silly looking monster. He's got big droopy ears and exaggerated fangs jutting out of his oversized jaws, making him resemble a cartoon bulldog. The creature's appearance is very human-like, with two legs and two arms. He moves exactly like a guy in a suit too. Whatever illusion Toho and Daiei's kaiju flicks created that these rubber creations were actual fantastic beasts is not all that present here. 

No matter how ridiculous the kaiju genre got, there were still fascinating reflections of the culture that birthed them. Ishiro Honda was a staunch pacifist and believer in world unity. Despite that, an undeniable nationalistic pride emerged from his “Godzilla” movies in the lengthy montages of Japan's definitely-not-an-army fighting the beast. Though made with a fraction of the budget and resources, there's a Korean vein of this same idea in “Wangmagwi.” The military assembles against the monster efficiently and bravely. Oh faces off against the monster without a trace of fear. Cops run through the streets and fire their pistols at the monster's feet. With the Korean War not far in the past, the film represents a pop culture depiction of the nation being strong, resourceful, and independent in the face of an outside invader. The possibility of using a nuclear bomb against the monster is also regarded as an absolute last resort, another reminder of how the atomic horrors of World War II float over every movie like this. The Korean national identity is also reflected in the melodrama of Ahn-hee being so committed to marrying her boyfriend, that not even a kaiju attack can convince her to postpone the ceremony. When the couple adopt the brave boy in the last reel, it feels like the Korean family unit being put forth as an unshakable institution. May no intergalactic goliaths tear it asunder. 

All of the above means “Space Monster Wangmagwi” is not exactly a lost classic. The special effects are fairly janky. Despite the oversized threat, the movie's ambitions strike one as rather limited. Nobody, down to the alien overlords orchestrating this plot, seem to take anything that happens as too momentous an occasion. Mostly, the extremely silly script makes this a fluffy, light-hearted affair. How am I to resist any giant monster movie that features a little kid pissing in the kaiju's ear though? There's an undeniable charm to “Wangmagwi's” weird tonal switch-ups and goofy creature effects. It reflects the Korean self-image in a way that the more generic “Yongary” simply did not. I am glad monster movie fans all over the world can see it now. By the way, “Wangmagwi” isn't the first Korean kaiju movie either. A 1962 fantasy about a bulgasari – an iron eating dragon of sorts – attacking medieval Songdo predates it. That film remains lost and probably always will but who knows. If “Wangmagwi” can be rediscovered, perhaps that one is still out there somewhere too. [7/10]

 

Amazing Stories: You Gotta Believe Me

I guess I didn't get enough of ominous visions concerning crashing airplanes when I watched “Final Destination” earlier this season. “You Gotta Believe Me” concerns Earl Sweet, an ordinary fellow sleeping in his bed. He has a vivid and distressing nightmare of an airline jet crashing right outside his house. He sees the ghosts of the dead passengers pass him by, the scorched remains of their bodies on his front yard. Earl awakens in a cold sweat, unable to shake the disturbing feeling the dream has left him with. He walks to the near-by airport, soon recognizing the possessions of the passengers awaiting the next flight in the lobby. This convinces the man that his dream was actually a vision of the future. He attempts to alert the authorities, who dismiss him as a raving lunatic. The man has to take matters into his own hands to prevent the disaster only he knows is about to happen. 

Like all the best episodes of “Amazing Stories,” “You Gotta Believe Me” ditches the Spielberg-ian whimsy or Dante-esque madcap comedy most of the show attempted. The episode, which aired eleven days before Halloween, is probably one of the eerier installments of the program. The opening nightmare scene plays out in still, slow medium shots. There's little music and a far-off sound design as we see the old man wandering through the burning wreckage. He centers in on the a charred Teddy Ruxpin, discordantly repeating a line of a childish fairy tale. It's a creepy moment and “You Gotta Believe Me” manages to make that feeling last for the rest of its half-hour. When Earl arrives at the airport, it is strangely empty. The announcements echo like far-off cries. He moves like a still, sleepwalking observer through a placid dreamland. It's surprisingly creepy, director Kevin Reynolds showing an aptitude for spookiness that his future Kevin Costner collaborations rarely displayed. 

The other element making this episode a good one is its lead performance. Great character actor Charles Durning plays Earl. While the temptation might have been to play the role as entirely hysterical and panicked from the beginning – think John Lithgow in “Twilight Zone: The Movie” – Durning makes the choice to underplay it. He is quiet and calm at first, allowing the sense of unease on his face to slowly reveal itself more and more. The entranced quality he goes for fits someone who has been startled awake, uncertain of the reality of what he's seeing. This allows for a slow build, as the feeling that the crash is destined to happen becomes increasingly certain. That makes the action packed climax stronger than it would've been otherwise, an exciting pay-off to what has come before. Like a quality short story, “You Gotta Believe Me” then orderly wraps up right after that. All these factors surely make “You Gotta Believe Me” one of the best episodes of “Amazing Stories'” entire run. [8/10]

The Addams Family: Lurch's Grand Romance
 

For the penultimate episode of the original “Addams Family,” we get a special guest star and a Lurch centric narrative. Morticia's previously unseen best friend Tiny Trivia is visiting the Addams household. Trivia has recently decided to devote herself full-time to her dream of becoming a singer and actress. Lurch is immediately smitten with the lady. The butler proves to be a little shy around women, however. The family goes about attempting to help him gain some confidence but it's no use. Grandmama decides to go a more direct path. She whips up a love potion and hands it over to Trivia. The concoction works too well and the woman is soon smothering Lurch with a level of affection he finds uncomfortable. In addition to that, the brew makes Trivia uncontrollably horny for any man she sees. Gomez, Fester, and Cousin Itt all become her next targets for romance in quick order. 

Bringing in a guest star to “The Addams Family” but having them do something other than run and scream has worked out in the past. Diane Jergens was a song-and-dance gal in real life and already a veteran of early television sitcoms by the time she played Trivia. It would actually be her final on-screen credit, the actress retiring shortly afterwards. She's an energetic presence however. Listening to her sing the same song repeatedly is kind of annoying but she's got a go-for-broke intensity that suits this show well. Especially in the last third, when she's gone guy-crazy and is kissing over every male she encounters. Seeing Gomez flustered and out-matched by a female for once is a good joke.

This episode, in general, has some amusing moments. The family coming together to teach Lurch some game is a decent set-up. His inability to use Fester as a stand-in for an attractive lady is a solid joke. “Lurch's Grand Romance” is most remembered as the source of the first Wednesday dance sequence, Lisa Loring attempting to teach Ted Cassidy some of her moves. Both of these scenes allow for Cassidy to stretch his comedic muscles, Lurch getting to say and do a lot more than usual. Seeing the Frankenstein-ian man-servant be awkward and stuttering made me chuckle. I like it when the whole family is involved in these scenarios. (Well, almost the whole family. Pugsley must be at school.) Those scenes are a little more amusing than watching Trivia act like a nut, though those aren't terrible either. An early sequence where Fester looks into a crystal ball or continued discussions about Gomez' reaction to hearing someone speak French also result in some solid one-liners. [7/10]

Halloween 2025: September 28th

 

The Strangers: Chapter 2 (2025)
 

When it was announced that Lionsgate was rebooting Bryan Bertino's generally well-liked 2008 home invasion thriller, “The Strangers,” that was standard entertainment news. These days, some old movie or property gets a relaunch announced about every week. When it was revealed that Lionsgate was planning a whole trilogy based off this mildly popular movie from sixteen years ago, it seemed like putting the horse before the cart but that's also hardly unprecedented in Hollywood. Except all three films were already written and would be shot back-to-back. A risky proposition, as the first might flop, sticking the studio with two sequels there's no demand for. Especially since these movies were being directed by Renny Harlin, whose days as a blockbuster hit-maker have long, long since passed. Well, “The Strangers: Chapter 1” made 48 million against an 8 million dollar budget, giving Lionsgate the confidence to release “Chapter 2” in theaters this September. Despite most people having hated the previous one. I thought “Chapter 1” wasn't totally without its merits and so I foolishly give this second part of the trilogy a look. 

And so we return to the small town of Venus, Oregon, where Maya and her husband had their AirBNB invaded by a trio of masked murders. Having survived the night of torment, the battered and injured Maya awakens in the nearest hospital. She is questioned by the local sheriff, who strikes her as suspicious. That night, she hears screams from the hallway outside her hospital room. The Strangers have followed her and are determined to finish the job they started. Despite having stitches in her gut from a prior stab wound, Maya is chased all around the hospital and the surrounding area. She takes shelter in the woods, the ceaseless pursuit by the three maniacs on-going. Maya becomes increasingly convinced that the entire town is in on these murders, which seem to have gone back years ago. 

Every slasher movie fan will recognize that portion of the film, when most of the warm bodies have been cleaved through. When it is only the killer and the final girl left, a long fight for survival erupting between the seemingly unstoppable murderer and the one young woman that has escaped their wrath thus far. Ya know, the part of “Halloween” when Laurie Strode is in the house by herself with Michael Myers. “The Strangers: Chapter 2” essentially attempts to build an entire movie around this portion of the slasher formula. The Strangers are stalking and chasing Maya and they won't stop until they've caught her. It's not the worst idea for a movie. The first act of “Chapter 2” recalls “Halloween II” with its hospital setting. Sequences in which the girl hides inside a morgue storage locker or behind big metal jugs in the basement aren't half-bad. While watching these moments, I found myself wondering if perhaps this might actually work. 

That otherwise quite good scene of Maya in the cold storage locker, the lead Stranger lurking inches away from her face, is cut short when an orderly sticks his head in and subsequently gets axed. This, unfortunately, sets up a pattern that nearly the entire movie then follows. Maya will be chased by the killers to a new location: A random horse ranch, a derelict car sitting in the middle of the forest, the AirBNB from the previous movie, an apartment where her nurse and three roommates are living. A person or a few will appear to help her. They will reveal a tiny tidbit of information about the bigger picture here before the Strangers appear again, murdering them and starting the cycle again. By the third time “Chapter 2” is repeating this cycle, when a detective is introduced only to be unceremoniously offed in the very next scene, this blatant repetition has become unintentionally funny. By the fourth time it happens, it has become tedious. The sequel feels the need to throw multiple vehicular chases between these identical set-ups and pay-offs.  

“Chapter 2” essentially repeating the same scenes over and over again until it reaches a feature length run time is not the only sign that this entire trilogy enterprise might have been a misguided affair. Alan R. Cohen and Alan Freedland's script often feels like an obnoxiously drawn-out tease for something more interesting. A random old woman or that aforementioned detective promise to reveal the truth before being silenced. The sequel constantly toys with the possibility that the quartet of shifty weirdos that help Maya out are connected to the murderers. These are narrative red herrings, cut short so the film can have the heroine run and hide and sometimes fight-off the unflappable villains again. It reminds me of all those shitty streaming series. Ya know, the ones that are six or eight hours long but truthfully only had enough real story for two hours, necessitating extensive padding and repeated hints that the plot might genuinely move forward at some point. The script's desperate attempts to stretch this premise out eventually lurches towards unintentional comedy. Would you believe me if I said this sequel to the reboot/remake of “The Strangers” features in the middle of the runtime, for no particular reason, an extended sequence where someone is attacked by a feral hog? It's true and it's stupid and it's also, perhaps not coincidentally, the only time this movie truly reaches any degree of schlocky amusement. 

Since watching “The Strangers: Chapter 2,” I can't decide if this out-of-the-blue homage to “Hogzilla” is made more or less silly by the subsequent reveal that it's also part of the masked killers' master plan. Part of what made Bertino's “The Strangers” effective was that we knew nothing about the titular menace. They struck without explanation, their motives unknowable and their justification totally random. That spooky bit of ambiguity clearly won't do in our era of fan wiki lore dumps and explainer videos. Since some jack-ass exec decided this story had to be three movies, “Chapter 2” can't actually tell us much about the Secret Origins of the Strangers. The brief glimpses we get are not compelling. Some sort of devil-kid little sociopath pact or whatever, with shades of Mormonism, that isn't as creepy as the briefest suggestion of a Manson-like cult from the original. Truly, did even the biggest fan of “The Strangers” actually care about how Tamara is? Or what the greater significance behind Pin-Up Girl's choice in mask? Explaining what these three want and where they come is obviously antithetical to what makes them scary but I guess we shouldn't expect subtle from a lame-brain attempt at brand extension like this. Harlin's trilogy has clearly failed in intriguing us about the story behind the Strangers. When a mask comes off in the final scene, it plays as if this is a shocking revelation. Instead, I found myself asking “who the hell is that?” before vaguely connecting it with a background player in an earlier scene. 

My earlier comparison of these newer “Strangers” to a half-assed streaming show is apt. The movie ends with an on-screen “To Be Continued” ellipses and a preview of the next film, truly following in the footsteps of bad television. What we can expect next time, promises to finally answer how the town's history and Richard Brake as the creepy sheriff tie into all of this, are not exactly promising. “The Strangers: Chapter 2” isn't the most wretched motion picture I've seen this fall. Madelaine Petsch has about twelve lines of dialogue in the entire movie. Instead, she gives a mostly physical performance, her final girl on the run nearly the whole time and taking an improbable amount of punishment. That's kind of interesting. (Though a gratuitous shot of Petsch in her underwear suggest she probably wasn't cast for her acting.) The stalking through the hospital and horse stables aren't bad, before we understand that the sequel has no further tricks up its sleeve. I didn't despise it but it's surely not good. Also not good has been the box office so far, suggesting “The Strangers: Chapter 3” might wind up going straight-to-Tubi. But I guess I'm on the hook for that piece of shit, since I've watched the other two already. They should include a few more feral hog attacks in that one. [5/10]

 

Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf (1975)
Nazareno Cruz y el lobo, las palomas y los gritos

Back in the days before birth control, when infant morality was high and large families were often necessary to operate farms, having seven or more kids was not so uncommon. Nor was the possibility of that seventh son begetting seven sons himself. Where exactly the idea that such an individual was blessed or cursed in some way began, we can't say. The belief likely has its roots in Mesopotamia, where seven was a sacred number, which was reflected in Christian concepts like the seven deadly sins. Whatever the origins, the superstition has spread throughout many different cultures and taken many forms. In England and Ireland, the seventh son of a seventh son was said to be healers or to have psychic visions. Italian folklore speaks of a seventh son able to ward off snakes. Not every example was so lucky. Seventh sons were also often said to be cursed, to become vampires or werewolves. The latter idea would inspire Argentinian director Leonardo Favio to create “Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf.” The film would become very successful in its home country, the most popular locally made film in Argentinian history by some measurements.

The heavily pregnant Fidelia prepares for the birth of her seventh child. Her husband and her six previous sons set out to tend to the herd in a thunderstorm. The subsequent flood results in each of them drowning. The local lechiguana warns her that, should the child be a son, he will be cursed to become a werewolf. Fidelia does have a son, whom she names Nazareno Cruz. Despite the hardships of being raised by a single mother and told his whole life that he's cursed, Nazareno grows up to be a boisterous, kind man that is loved by all who meet him. While at a bonfire party one night, he meets the beautiful maiden Griselda. The two immediately fall in love. Afterwards, Nazareno is approached by a mysterious stranger. The man informs him that the curse Cruz has heard about his whole life is real. Now that he's fallen in love, he will become a wolf at the next full moon. The stranger says the curse can be avoided, and he'll receive treasures untold, if Nazareno gives up his love for Griselda. Recognizing the traveler as the devil himself, he refuses the offer. And as the moon rises in the night sky the next night, Nazareno Cruz becomes a bloodthirsty beast.

"Nazareno Cruz y el lobo" is introduced in voice-over by one of the supporting characters, as a story that happened to a friend of his. This presents the film's story as exactly what it is meant to be, a legend told via word-of-mouth and spread down through the generations as oral tradition. The film is obviously informed by concepts from local folklore. The premise of the cursed seventh son of a seventh son, an old witch who speaks of both God and the devil, Satan himself appearing with an impossible trade: All of these are archetypal ideas, older than any one tale itself. Fittingly, the characters and narrative turns in "Nazareno Cruz" are mythic in their broadness. Nazareno is a joyful man, always singing and dancing, a jolly young man accepted anywhere. The old witch, played by a toothless and sunken-eyed Nora Cullen, is the perfect mental image of an old but wise crone. Griselda is an utterly pure maiden, angelic in her beauty and grace. When the two make love, it is depicted as a frolic among the fields and by a waterfall, the young lovers free of sin in their devotion to each other. 

In accordance with this, "Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf" is told as a fairy tale with an operatic emotional range. There are a lot of shouted lines of dialogue or sustained moments of laughing or yelling. When Nazareno first meets Griselda, it results in several minutes of the camera gazing at her while the sweeping romantic theme from Juan José García Caffi and Jorge Candia plays. That cascading choir piece of music plays repeatedly, alongside the score's other oversized leitmotifs. The characters will often repeat their dialogue, as if they are also reoccurring melodies within a song that establishes their simple roles in the story. When Nazareno decides he could never give up his lady love, it results in a long sequence of the two messily kissing in the waves. This kind of bigger-than-life execution can be a bit hard to enjoy but, once you get on its wave-length, it's interesting. 

Like many operas, “Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf” is also a tragedy. From before he was born, the title character was told he was cursed. Despite doing everything in his life to prove these accusations wrong, being the best version of himself he can be, Nazareno is still destined to become a wolf. In comparison to the overwrought emotion of every other scene of the film, the sequence devoted to the wolf stalking a herder is unusually quiet and unsettling. The suggestion seems to be twofold. First off, that any man – no matter how well-liked or virtuous he might be – is still capable of evil acts. After this murder occurs, Griselda reassures her father that her lover is a good man. However, everyone else has already decided from his first breath that he was destined to be this monster. “Nazareno Cruz” could be a rumination on how we are all victims of fate. It could also be read as a story about how what we call “fate” is more the machinations of the society we live in. 

To call “Nazareno Cruz y el lobo” a riff on classical folk lores is an accurate statement. The script – written by Favio and Jorge Zuhair Jury, based on a radio program by Juan Carlos Chiappe – actually seems to hearken back to pre-Christian indigenous mythology in Argentina. This is noticeable in how the old witch is called the Lechiguana, a word taken from the Mapudungun language. Unless most depictions of those who converse with spirits or know of the occult, this witch is not an evil figure. She is a neutral one. She refers to God and the devil in a similar way, saying either can bring bad luck depending on the weather. This holds through with the film's depiction of the devil. He tempts Cruz with gold and asks him to give up his earthly love. At the same time, we later see this same figure – who goes so far as to admit he's the devil – as a benevolent leader of an underground system of other magical beings. This devil is an ultimately sympathetic figure, attempting to take the protagonist out of a world that will never accept him fully. 

If you are like me and are fascinated by all the permutations folklore has taken around the world, “Nazareno Cruz” will probably be to your liking too. The operatic approach to the story is likely to rub some people the wrong way. You might get annoyed hearing the same lines of dialogue repeated or find the music overbearing. However, I was quickly caught up in this one. Juan Jose Stagnaro's cinematography is strong, often providing a smooth sense of movement to many scenes. The performances are all strong. That this story resonated so much with Argentinians in 1975 surely says something about the culture that I, as am outsider, is unable to see. Despite its standing in its home country, the film has been obscure in America. At least it can now be watched with a decent transfer and strong subtitles, thanks once again to the folk horror archivists at Severin. It's well worth seeking out. [7/10]
 

The Twilight Zone (1985): Examination Day

When it first started airing, the 1985 revival of “The Twilight Zone” would feature multiple stories in each episode. Rather than evenly split each hour between two twenty minute narratives, the length of the segments would vary. Some episodes would squeeze in as many as three stories.  This presentation wold eventually be dropped and it's not too hard to see why. When squeezing in multiple scenarios of uneven length, it meant one segment was bound to overshadow the others. This is the case with the sixth episode. Most of the hour is taken up by “A Message from Charity,” a cute but distinctly not macabre tale of telepathic romance between a teenage boy in the eighties and a puritan girl in the 1700s. But nobody remembers that one. Instead, the ten minute short that precedes it, “Examination Day,” made a much stronger impression on audiences. Not long ago at all, I saw a TikTok going on about how shocking its twist ending remains. 

Like “The Obsolete Man” and a few classic “Zone” episodes before it, “Examination Day” takes place in some weird sci-fi future. In this setting, everyone in the country is forced to undertake an intelligence exam when they turn twelve years old. Little Dickie Jordan, a bright and enthusiastic boy, is hoping to do well on the test. His parents, Richard and Ruth, are much more hesitant. Something as them worried. The day after his birthday, Dickie is taken to a government facility and given a truth serum, to make sure he doesn't tell any lies on the test. To say what happens next would take most of the punch out of this one but it's hard to discuss the episode much otherwise. So, look away now if you don't want a forty year old TV show spoiled for you: Dickie's parents are informed that their son scored too high on the intelligence test and, in accordance with government laws to keep the public servile and content, the boy has been executed. 

The sci-fi setting of “Examination Day” seems hopelessly dated to modern eyes. The gift Dickie receives for his birthday, that has him so excited, is a small television that he can talk to his friends on. In addition to that rather analog form of communication, the silver jumpsuits everyone wears and shiny, glowing buildings surely seemed like an example of retro-futurism even in 1985. The same could be said of the golly-gee-aw-shucks attitude of the little boy and that his name is Dickie. Despite these flaws, “Examination Day” does have a timeless message. Namely, that those in power will always frown upon anyone who asks questions. We haven't had a government that regulates IQ yet – give the current administration another year – but it hardly seems like that far of a leap. The death of a kid, especially one as adorably precocious as this one, is still a shocking incident. The way this announcement is coldly delivered to the parents makes the ruthless efficiency of this slaughtering system all the more brutal. “Examination Day” may not be much more than its twist but it is an effective twist. [7/10]

The Addams Family: The Addams Policy

Here's an episode of “The Addams Family” that builds its plot around some of the show's memorably bizarre props. “The Addams Policy” starts with the family playing with their latest acquisition: A hand-held flamethrower. While attempting to light Gomez' cigar, Uncle Fester accidentally sets the stuffed polar bear in the living room ablaze. Distraught, Morticia immediately seeks out their insurance agent. That turns out to be Mr. Digby, last seen living next door and now in the employ of old Mr. Henson. Digby is natural confused and frightened by the Addams' antics. Henson is so enraged by his employee agreeing to insure the eccentric Addams that he immediately fires him. Gomez and Morticia's solution is to simply open up their own insurance office, with Digby's name on the door. Naturally, the family has an equally quirky reaction to such a mercenary business.

As I've drawn closer to the conclusion of season two, how formulaic “The Addams Family” could be has become more apparent. I'm not talking about the reliance on running gags or guest stars getting freaked out. Those have always been a part of the show. Instead, a lot of season two episodes seem to be revolving around the set-up of sticking the family into an otherwise routine job or premise. We had “What if the Addams ran a school?” not that long ago and “What if Morticia was a decorator?” before that. This episode is “What if the Addams ran an insurance company?” It leads to the expected bits, of the family insuring only the most uninsurable rejects or Fester dressing up and playing doctor with a disguised Mr. Henson. I'm not saying I didn't chuckle from time to time – Cousin Itt has an amusing cameo in this one – but the repetitive quality of these ideas are beginning to show. 

I do admire the show bringing back various supporting players, despite how interchangeable many of them can be. I mean, how many different roles and jobs has Mr. Henson had at this point? I guess he's back in the insurance game now. Similarly, Digby seems weirdly unfamiliar with the Addams family, despite having lived next door to them fairly recently. Still, the ghoulish family tormenting these stuffed shirts are still easily the best part of “The Addams Policy.” Morticia relentlessly grilling Digby over what other animal a pile of ash might have been besides a bear is a nicely extended joke. Fester repeatedly shocking the man with his electrical powers is surprisingly mean-spirited too. If there's anyone we should be breaking down with stern-eyed interrogations and electrical torture, it's probably insurance salesman. The main cast and their reliably sharp delivery of various cheesy one-liners remain entertaining, despite the show starting to feel a little uninspired in its ideas. [6/10]