Chuck Russell had a damn good run for a while. He got his start as a line producer on “The Hearse,” “Hell Night” and “Dreamscape” before making his directorial debut with what a lot of fans consider their favorite “A Nightmare on Elm Street” sequel. What followed was a beloved remake of a fifties classic, one of the movies that made Jim Carrey a superstar, probably the best of Arnold's late nineties flicks, and the first blockbuster starring the Rock. For reasons I've never found a satisfying explanation for, Russell took a fourteen year hiatus from feature film making. When he came back, it was with forgettable entries into the usually forgettable “geezer teaser” industry. While action movies had always been good to him, Russell had been plotting his proper return to the horror genre... With, of all things, a remake of “Witchboard.” The project was first announced back in 2017 and, through numerous starts and stops in production, Russell remained attached. He co-wrote the script too, so we can only assume he was genuinely passionate about remaking the eighties cult classic. After a long wait, the film finally came out last August.
A botched robbery in a New Orleans museum ends with the thief dead in the woods with one stolen object: A 300 year old pendulum board, with which real witches used to contact otherworldly spirits. The board is found by Emily, while hunting for mushrooms in the forest. Her boyfriend, Christian, is preparing to open a fancy restaurants in the city's French district. At a party the night before the opening, Christian's ex Brooke puts in an appearance. She's into all that witchy shit and instantly recognizes the board for what it is, teaching Emily how to use it. Emily, a recovering addict, soon becomes hooked on talking to the board. She experiences bizarre visions of witchcraft and fiery executions. Meanwhile, bizarre deaths and the presence of feral cats begin to disrupt Christian's new business. He teams up with Brooke, to seek the advice of a local expert in the occult. Christian doesn't know it yet but his girlfriend is at the center of a revenge plot three centuries in the making to resurrect the witch Naga Soth.
Considering the last horror movie Russell made twenty-five years ago and also bad, I had my doubts the director still had it in him for this one. This instinct was mostly correct but, every once in a while, 2024's “Witchboard” worked for me. The poltergeist-like activity of the original returns in a sequence where a little spilled gumbo and a sandwich slicer result in a surprisingly gory mishap. Another callback to the 1986 version involves Emily being abducted by spirits while in the shower. During this moment, and an earlier one where corpse-like hands reach out from her bed to grab her body, this “Witchboard” actually achieves that spook-a-blast feeling. Considering the obvious Raimi influence Tenney showed, incorporating that kind of chaotic, frenzied energy to scenes of supernatural menace isn't a bad idea. That scene with the poison mushroom has some serious flaws but, once the blood really starts to fly, I found myself enjoying it. The film needed more of that wacky, bloody sense of recklessness.
Like far too many modern productions, what causes this “Witchboard” to droop the most is a script overburdened with backstory. As Christian and his friends are being introduced at that party, each one casually reveals their defining characteristic. Here's the jokey friend, the Caribbean one, the wiccan ex-girlfriend. The moment Emily is announced as a former junkie, you know that the witchboard is going to become her next addiction. Here's her former dealer, wandering randomly into the story to up the body count later on. No attempt is made to foster this connection with a deeper meaning. It's all mercenary plot construction, not an expression of a bigger idea. This is most evident in all the screen time focused on both the backstory of the witch and the man who cast her out of society. Adding some historical context to the idea of a “witch”board is nice and all, admitting that historical “witches” were usually persecuted women at the mercy of patriarchal systems. At the same time, the original didn't need fifteen minutes of flashbacks to make us understand that Malfeitor was a bad guy. It weights the movie down.
Santo contras las Mujeres Vampiro
I've never been a pro-wrestling watcher. I am, however, fascinated by the mythology of pro-wrestling, the idea that real men become larger than life characters within this ephemeral space where fantasy and reality blur. Nobody did this better than the golden age luchadores enmascarado, who often wore their distinctive masks in all facets of public life. When El Santo, the most popular and beloved of them all, began starring in movies in which he played himself, fighting monsters and supervillains, it further muddied the boundaries between the real man, the Superman-like do-gooder he played in the ring, and the mythic folk hero he had become in the public's mind. I know all of this without having seen any of the movies Santo starred in, because anybody who knows anything about Mexican film history knows this stuff. Of the 53 motion pictures El Santo appeared in, only four received stateside distribution, with most of them still unavailable with English subtitles today. The best known of Santo's starring roles is "Santo contras las Mujeres Vampiro." Released dubbed in the U.S. as "Samson Vs. the Vampire Women," the film was a common presence on late night creature feature shows and largely shaped the public perception of what Mexican horror movies are in this country. While most Mexican horror movies actually don't have masked wrestlers in them, "Santo Vs. the Vampire Women" remains an iconic film. Thankfully, the uncut, subtitled version is fairly accessible now.
Zorina, the queen of the vampires, has awoken from 200 years of slumber. She calls upon Tundra, her craftiest vampire follower, to find a successor for her before she returns to Hell to marry Satan. Tundra targets Diana, the descender of the same woman she attempted to turn into a vampire centuries ago. Soon, the vampire woman is lurking outside Diana's window and calling to her. Diana's father, Dr. Orloff, is well aware of the family prophecy that vampires are after his daughter but is reluctant to tell her. (Especially not to ruin her recent, happy engagement to Jorge.) With no one else to turn to, he calls upon Santo, El Enmascarado de Plata, professional wrestling star, part-time superhero, and the last in a long line of masked monster hunters. Santo tries his best to protect Diana, fight off the vampiric henchmen Zorina sends after her, track down the bloodsuckers' lair, and still do his gigs in the squared circle.
The next ten minutes are devoted to establishing Diane, Dr. Orloff, and Jorge. These scenes are talky and kind of slow, in the same way the thirties Universal flicks were too. This crashes right into Dr. Orloff activating a secret monitor that puts him in direct contact with Santo, the kind of set-up Adam West's Batman would've approve of. From that point on, “Santo Vs. the Vampire Women” never stops having maximum fun bashing its action figures together. The brawny vampire henchmen sent to combat Santo run through the night, their hands holding their outstretched black capes, the exact same way a little kid would when playing pretend as a vampire. That child-like sense of glee is present thoughout, when a cop has to remind his fellow officers that Santo is a good guy or the masked wrestler leaps into his convertible. The lovingly rendered close-ups of the vampire women preparing to bite their prey is pure classic horror. When that gothic opulence contrasts against the inherent silliness of a grown man in tights and a mask, solving all his problems with punching and body slams, it creates the most beautiful kind of disconnect.
Through it all, I couldn't help but notice an odd sort of meloncholey around Santo as a character. The love story is in-between Diana and Jorge. The tale of family is between Dr. Orloff and his daughter. Even the vampire women are a group, prowling together in their tombs. Santo is always alone. As the supporting characters embrace in the final scene, he drives off by himself. He defines himself as the last remaining member of a mythic bloodline earlier. Dr. Orloff notes that Santo's amazing skills do not gurantee that he'll succeed against the vampires. Unavoidably, the film paints him as a solitary figure, who lives only for wrestling and fighting evil. It's strange that a film as silly and cheesy as this one could stir such thoughts in me. Perhaps this is another sign that there is power in the most unexpected of images sometimes. In other words, “Santo Vs. The Vampire Women” is exactly my kind of thing. Classic monster movie vibes, camp, and culturally specific details combine to an oddly compelling B-movie. This is widely regarded as the best of the Santo films so I have no idea if any of the other ones are worth seeking out but I'm extremely curious now. [8/10]
The various subplots of “Alien: Earth” continue to roll along in episode four, “Observation.” Wendy is awoken from the strange coma she fell into at the end of the previous installment. It is soon discovered that she's learned how to speak the Xenomorphs' “language,” much to Boy Kavalier's amazement. Both Joe and Wendy desire to be kept together or to leave the island someday. Forces within the corporation naturally want to make sure this never happens. From outside the compound, Morrow continues to talk with Slightly, emotionally manipulating him into either procuring an egg for him or infesting someone with a Chestburster. The test continue on the eyeball parasite discovered at the crash site. Nibs, one of the other hybrid children, develops a sudden desire to become pregnant, confusing and frightening those overseeing her.
“Observation” makes a good case for the elements that annoy me the most about modern serialized television writing. Episode four sees the series reaching that inevitably point that all streaming shows reach sooner or later: Focusing an entire hour on a bunch of shit nobody cares about. The plot thread concerning Morrow worming his way into Slightly's brain obviously exists to lead to an inevitable containment break of the alien specimens. Kursh is also shown as being aware of their conversations, which will no doubt lead to more dramatic entanglements in three or so installments. The most eye-rollingly asinine of these dangling plot points is Nibs inexplicably developing baby fever. As two scenes are devoted to this subject, I could feel the sense of absolute indifference creeping into me. This is padding, plain and simple. It has no actual purpose in the story.
Far too many modern continuations of old franchises seem content to simply give fans what they want and provide no substance. “Alien: Romulus” was heavily guilty of this. On one hand, that makes “Earth's” various divergences from canon hypothetically interesting. What is this weird eyeball parasite that the Prodigy scientists are studying? The scene where it yanks out a sheep's eye and crawls into its skull is pretty gnarly. At the same time, this new extraterrestrial threat is not different enough from the Xenomorph to overcome the inevitable feeling of: When are they going to get to the alien hive? Why is the Alien not being given more to do in this series with “Alien” in the title? The scenes developing the Xenomorph's language is an actual example of building on previously established lore, as opposed to just tossing in some new stuff. I wish the episode focused more on that.
I mostly found “Observation” to be tedious. You can almost feel the writers and show runners patting themselves on the back as they revisit the themes of motherhood and birth from the older “Alien” themes. Or in the repeated “Peter Pan” references. See, the overgrown man-child trillionaire never wants to grow up either! Once again, world-building is done not through naturalistic storytelling but through blatant exposition. There's another conversation about how the globe is broken up across five corporations. While the theme of corporate indifference to human suffering is another “Alien” Golden Oldie, it does lead to the one truly effective moment in the episode. When Joe insist that his sister is a human being, a cold representative of Prodigy reminds him that she is in fact corporate property. That's a more chilling reminder of how we will all be mere assets to the corporate oligarchs in the future. Needed more shit like that and less of Essie Davis trying to make an unhinged robo-adolescent understand that she can't be pregnant. [6/10]
“Observation” makes a good case for the elements that annoy me the most about modern serialized television writing. Episode four sees the series reaching that inevitably point that all streaming shows reach sooner or later: Focusing an entire hour on a bunch of shit nobody cares about. The plot thread concerning Morrow worming his way into Slightly's brain obviously exists to lead to an inevitable containment break of the alien specimens. Kursh is also shown as being aware of their conversations, which will no doubt lead to more dramatic entanglements in three or so installments. The most eye-rollingly asinine of these dangling plot points is Nibs inexplicably developing baby fever. As two scenes are devoted to this subject, I could feel the sense of absolute indifference creeping into me. This is padding, plain and simple. It has no actual purpose in the story.
I mostly found “Observation” to be tedious. You can almost feel the writers and show runners patting themselves on the back as they revisit the themes of motherhood and birth from the older “Alien” themes. Or in the repeated “Peter Pan” references. See, the overgrown man-child trillionaire never wants to grow up either! Once again, world-building is done not through naturalistic storytelling but through blatant exposition. There's another conversation about how the globe is broken up across five corporations. While the theme of corporate indifference to human suffering is another “Alien” Golden Oldie, it does lead to the one truly effective moment in the episode. When Joe insist that his sister is a human being, a cold representative of Prodigy reminds him that she is in fact corporate property. That's a more chilling reminder of how we will all be mere assets to the corporate oligarchs in the future. Needed more shit like that and less of Essie Davis trying to make an unhinged robo-adolescent understand that she can't be pregnant. [6/10]
Moving into a new apartment is an experience rich with potential for horror. There's the disorientating sensation of being uprooted from the familiar and the comfortable and being dropped into someplace alien and new. You are now surrounded by strangers, very close to you, that could be getting up to god knows what. Moreover, there's the lingering reminders that someone else once resided in this place you are trying to make your own now. Kids show schlock like “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” was aware of this too. “Tale of Apartment 214” follows Stacy, who is moving into a new apartment building with her single mom. Isolated and with no friends around, Stacy finds herself drawn to Madeline, the old woman who lives down the hall in Room 214. Madelyn informs her that her nephew abandoned on an important day, breaking a promise to never leave her alone. When Stacy goes to a concert with appropriate friend Angela instead, she finds Madelyn has abandoned 214. In fact, the old woman now appears to her as a threatening spectre, insisting that she “broke her promise.” Yes, Madeline is a ghost, haunting the apartment in which she lived and died after being left behind by those who swore to take care of her. And now that's Stacy's problem.
Of the handful of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” episodes I've written about, several of them have been about a young person being doggedly pursue by some ghost or entity. Often, they repeat a threatening message each time they appear, to re-enforce the moral of the episode. “Tale of Apartment 214” does this with an otherwise unassuming little old lady, who repeatedly shouts about this pre-teen girl “breaking her promise” to her. It's very silly and not especially creepy at all. I know Hollywood seems convinced that old women are the most terrifying sight imaginable but Madeline here is no Aunt Gladys. The scene where she glowers in front of a stormy window, over-enunciating dialogue about the day she died, is an especially comical moment. This isn't an example of kid-friendly horror so much as it is horror that only works if you are a kid.
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