Halloween 2025: September 14th

I Know What You Did Last Summer (2025)

You can debate whether this new decade has produced any horror franchises of its own with real staying power. "M3GAN" seems to have slipped on her second run. Ti West's "X" trilogy was more of a niche thing. While the 2020s struggles to find their own monsters, studios certainly remain determined to resurrect the slasher stars of previous decades. Recent relaunches of "Halloween" and "Scream" have made the "legacy sequel" – a fusion sequel/reboot/remake that brings back old characters, introduce new ones, and tell suspiciously familiar stories – the hot trend in studio horror. That concept might have jumped the shark this past summer when Columbia Studios applied the legacy sequel treatment to "I Know What You Did Last Summer." Ah yes, the "I Know What You Did Last Summer" trilogy with its iconic characters like... The "Party of Five" chick and... That guy. Ya know, the beloved slasher villain. The, uh, Gordon's Fisherman or whatever. Yes, I do believe someone greatly overestimated the public's investment in this particular nostalgia property. I know what I did nearly a decade ago and that was review the previous three films in this crappy series. I might as well give the new crappy one a shot too. 

We return once again to the seaside town of Southport, North Carolina during the 4th of July weekend. Ava and Milo's best friends, Danica and Teddy, are celebrating their engagement. They pick up an old friend, a recovering addict named Stevie, and drive out to a winding mountain road to watch the fireworks. That's when Teddy, fooling around in the road, causes a car to drive off the edge. Rather than go to the police, Danica talks the group into keeping it a secret and Teddy's influential father provides additional cover-up. One year later, Ava returns home to attend a second engagement party Danica is having with her new boyfriend, Wyatt. At the party, Danica receives a letter simply reading “I know what you did last summer.”  That night, Wyatt is murdered by a killer in a fisherman slicker. It becomes quickly apparent that Ava and all her friends are being stalked by the same hook-wielding maniac, eager to deliver vengeance upon them for their misdeeds. The group seek out the help of Julie James and Ray Bronson, survivors of a killing spree with the exact same M.O. from over thirty years ago. 

The script, which director Jennifer Kaytin Robinson co-write with Sam Lansky, makes sure to inform us that Ava is bisexual, that all the characters are into social media or drugs, without making these seem like real defining characteristics. Everyone is hot and toned and unblemished and often swapping romantic partners. These elements exist alongside all of them being rather unlikable people. Danica never once apologizes for being an accessory in the death of a bystander, coming across as largely vapid. Everyone seem entitled to a bright future without once grappling with the consequences of what they've done. At first, I figured the brainless Teddy or the shallow Danica were meant to be the villains of the film, intentionally unlikable rich kids who believe they are always beyond reproach. Instead, by the film's end – when everyone is trading catty dialogue like “Fuck the 4th of July!” –  it's apparent that we are actually suppose to find these traits endearing. Truthfully, the film isn't about guilt or responsibility at all. These events happen to these people and I never once believed they were learning anything.

Something else that is severely lacking is a sense that any of the main characters are in danger. Despite the killer ostensibly being after Ava and her friends, everyone around them seems to be dying instead. The ensemble is fruitlessly chased while a handful of unimportant side players wander in to be speared upon the Fisherman's hook. Danica's pointless second fiance or a random cemetery groundskeeper are two of the bystanders introduced to be fodder. Much like the original film, Robinson's “Last Summer” suggest there truly aren't that many ways to kill someone with a big hook. There's a decent neck impaling but, otherwise, the gore proves totally forgettable. Another example of the sequel's lack of creativity is present in two separate scenes where someone can't hear a victim's cries for help and screams of agony because they are listening to music too loudly. Ya know, a slasher flick can get away with that gag once but twice is simply egregious. 

Occasionally, the film seems like it might possibly be gesturing at some form of social commentary. One of the Fisherman's earliest victims is a true crime podcaster obsessed with the murder spree from the original film. When she's at the end of the killer's hook, she says she's “a fan” of their work. If this is meant to be a commentary on the callousness of the true crime industry or the gross type of celebrity our culture affords to murderers, it never develops into an actual point. (Considering 2018's “Halloween” and “Terrifier 3” also did something like this, it's quickly become an abused trope in modern slashers.) Similarly, Teddy's rich dad is a real estate developer, who bought up Southport property after its value plummeted following the original murders. Despite the obvious crassness of these actions, Ted's dad isn't depicted as especially ruthless. That would require the film actually giving any of its characters' actual defining characteristics at all. The sequel wants to invoke vague notions of relevancy without commenting on these issues in any way. 

The annoyingly trendy characters or bloodless attempts at meaning are, somehow, not the element of “I Know What You Did Last Summer” that bugged me the most. David Gordon Green's “Halloween” trilogy connects to the original via Michael Myers and Laurie Strode. The new “Scream” sequels make sure to introduce the kids and relatives of the established cast members. Ava and her friends have no connection to the 1997 ensemble. They are simply being pursued by a killer with the same costume and gimmick. When the identity of the villain is revealed – in a moment that definitely feels more “Scream” than “Last Summer” – no justification is given for continuing with the fisherman get-up. Julie James is brought back into the story, because the new group seems to think she can help them. Now, why would that be? Having survived an unrelated murderer in the same town thirty years ago does not give her any special insight into this new batch of unconnected killings. A more desperate, less sensible reason is introduced as a cheap twist but it feels like nothing but an excuse to have Jennifer Love Hewitt and Freddie Prince Jr. in the movie. Hewitt, for whatever it is worth, is probably the most personable and interesting performer in the film. This is more by a lack of any other options, as the new recruits are completely indistinguishable. 

Robinson claims to be a big fan of the original films. This is apparent in shout-outs to the superiority schlocky “I Still Know What You Did Last Summer” and two very dumb scenes that bring back additional cast members from the nineties. (The former is a dream sequence and the latter is a post-credit scene, both feeling like last minute additions.) Notably not referenced is “I'll Always Know What You Did Last Summer,” the very bad direct-to-video third entry. As lame as that movie was, introducing a supernatural element to the Fisherman at least kept a logical link to the original. This reboot goes through all the legacy sequel steps without finding what was unique or interesting about these characters and their world originally. I mean, that's probably because “I Know What You Did Last Summer” was always lame bullshit but those older movies at least had a little more meat on their bones than this meager stab at a revival. The film technically turned a profit – 64 million at the global box office against a 16 million budget – but the complete lack of enthusiasm it was received with makes further follow-ups unlikely. I guess we won't be getting reboots of “Urban Legend” or “Cherry Falls” then, which is probably no great loss either. [4/10]

The Saga of the Viking Women and Their Voyage to the Waters of the Great Sea Serpent (1957)

Cult movie aficionados recall the Italian peplum craze of the late fifties and early sixties with a great deal of fondness. It is one of the defining flavors of cinematic mozzarella, cheap and cheesy flicks churned out by the Italians. Less discussed is a similar but distinctly different sub-genre that occurred around the same time. That would be the viking movie, low budget sword-and-sandal epics set on the other side of the European continent. A handful of these, a lot of which starred Cameron Mitchell or Gordon Mitchell, arrived at the same time gladiators and Hercules were filling drive-ins. Most of these arose in the wake of Kirk Douglas swashbuckler “The Vikings.” Roger Corman, ever the savvy businessman, attempted to beat that movie into theaters by quickly throwing together his own take on the Norse sagas. The result was a motion picture now most recalled for its hilariously long-winded title, “The Saga of the Viking Women and Their Voyage to the Waters of the Great Sea Serpent.” Ol' Rog really wanted this one to get its deserved space on the marquee, didn't he?

Some time ago, the brave Viking men of Stannjold left on a journey across the sea. They have yet to return. The women of the community, with only an errand boy named Ottar to keep them company, are starting to get antsy. They assemble their own longboat and set out on a rescue mission, While crossing the ocean, they are attacked by a great sea serpent and tossed aside by a vortex. The women – leader Desir, the dark-haired and mysterious Enger, the young and naive Asmild – wash up on the beach. They are soon abducted by Stark, the cruel leader of the local Grimaults tribe. Captured and imprisoned, the women eventually discover that their men are being used as workers in a near-by cave. Attempted burnings at the stake, boar hunts, sword fights, ritual funerals, and another appearance from that pesky sea serpent all follow. 

“The Saga of the Viking Women” was born of an ambitious pitch from special effects guys Irving Block and Jack Rabin. We can only speculate on why these two conceived of a story about viking women, rather than viking men. However, one assumes that the commercial potential of a poster filled with gorgeous, Nordic beauties was a factor. Populating an adventure story largely with female characters does, however unintentionally, make “The Great Sea Serpent” a somewhat unusual film for its time period. The story necessitates that women take charge, seeking to rescue their men. They are the ones who fling spears, slay a boar, and sail the boats. One sequence features Desir besting the Grimnaults prince in an arm wrestling contest. Almost as if the writers realized they had accidentally made a feminist motion picture, the film immediately backtracks the minute the viking men are introduced back into the story. At that point, the guys start leading the story, getting to fight the titular sea monster, clang swords with the villain, and rescue the now cowering women.

Up until that second half, I thought for sure that “The Saga of the Viking Women” was some writer allowing his Amazon fantasies out to play. All the statuesque women, while doing acts of strength, spend the early scenes bossing Ottar around. The character is played by Jonathan Haze, “Little Shop of Horror's” Seymour, and he's a hairless little twink here. Exactly the type of slave-boy that would submit to towering women. You can tell the film has lost the thread when Ottar is the one who saves the day during the climax, this slave-boy having become a slave-man. Despite the frantic attempt to undo any feminist reading the material might have had, there is an impossible to ignore queer vibe floating all throughout “Viking Women.” Jay Sayer plays Senya, the Grimnaults prince, as a swishing fairy desperate to prove his clearly lacking manhood to his barbarian father. There is, no doubt, something subversive in the depiction of weak men and powerful women. 

Ultimately, the kinky and gay undercurrents in “Viking Women” are the most interesting things about a film with not a lot else going for it. Obviously, Corman and his crew did not have the budget necessary for a proper fantasy epic. The sea serpent mentioned in the title only appears briefly in two scenes. It appears to be a rather floppy jawed hand puppet in a bathtub somewhere. There's also a moment of someone being struck down when lightning connects with their sword. Otherwise, “Waters of the Great Sea Serpent” is a bit of a nothing movie. The script attempts to mine some tension from Enger's lust for Desir's bare-chested boyfriend but it doesn't amount to much. The boar scene clearly never has the actors interacting with stock footage of a wild pig. There are long sequences of the viking guys breaking rocks in a cave, the women standing around and talking about what they should do, and the bad guys lecturing them about their greatness. Not the most compelling strain of schlock. 

There is, in fact, a good reason why “The Voyage of the Viking Women” turned out the way it did. The writers won Corman over with some gorgeous concept art, claiming they had all the special effects expertise necessary to bring these images to life within. They did not, a difficult situation made far more stressful by a typically tight budget. Production was a disaster, with the boat prop falling apart and some actresses nearly drowning. No wonder Corman decided the rest of the movie would be mostly composed of interior shot, dialogue driven scenes. The result is a fairly tedious B-movie. Corman does keep it fast paced and short, wrapping up the whole thing in a little over an hour, and the cast is lovely. Nevertheless, it's no surprise that the hilarious overwrought title emerges as the most memorable element of this one. I wonder if they could've made the title more of a run-on sentence? “The Saga of the Viking Women and Their Voyage to the Waters of the Great Sea Serpent, Wherefore They Braved the Perilous Vortex, Fought the Fearsome Barbarians, Slew the Mighty Boar, and Angered the Gods of Thunder and Lightning” does have a nice ring to it... [5/10]

Thriller (1973): A Coffin for the Bride
 

A full decade after Boris Karloff's “Thriller” came to an end, a program with an identical title began airing on the other side of the ocean. This “Thriller” was produced for British network ITV, created by influential screenwriter Brian Clements, and ran for six seasons. Unlike most other English anthology series of the time, which wouldn't develop fans in America until years later, a select number of “Thriller” episodes aired over here as part of “ABC's Wide World of Mystery” program. One such episode was “A Coffin for the Bride,” supposedly Clements' favorite. It follows Mark Walker, a former merchant marine who suffered psychological damage after falling to a dock. In the years since then, he's developed an eccentric habit. He hangs out in bars and hotel lobbies, looking for women who are perhaps a little older, whose looks have faded it a bit. He seduces them, convinces them to marry him, murders them via drowning, and then compulsively starts the cycle again. He has set his sights on two targets recently: Stella, a costume designer who is significantly younger and prettier than his usual targets, and Angela, a vulgar older broad that is more his style. A detective is on his trail but danger is much closer to Mark than that. 

“A Coffin for the Bride” plays a bit like a made-for-TV version of “Frenzy.” The second scene introduces Michael Gwynn as a detective certain of Walker's guilt but unable to prove anything. We follow him for a little bit as he fruitlessly tries to stop the murderer before another body piles up. He then becomes Max's next victim at the end of the first act. (Or "End of Part One," as a title card informs us.) From that point on, the literal lady killer is the story's protagonist. "A Coffin for the Bride" obviously can't get as perverse or explicit as Hitchcock's last masterpiece but it does take some measures to humanize the psychopath. Mark is clearly driven to kill by an uncontrollable impulse, the result of a traumatic brain injury. He makes plans with Stella for the night but, after meeting a perfect target in the form of Angela, quickly cancels them. As if he can do nothing to stop himself from enacting the cycle again. More than once, he seems to slip into a fugue state of sorts before a kill or while deep in thought. The script never quite goes so far as to make Mark a sympathetic character. Never once does he express a desire to want to stop killing. In the first scene, he makes a misogynistic comment after drowning a portly woman. His obsession with his own fitness, or the ease with which he slips into a manipulative mode the minute he's around a vulnerable lady, all seem to suggest that this guy is a bit like the masculine id run amok. As if "A Coffin for the Bride" is taking the leisure suited, seventies lothario concept to its most extreme conclusion. However, merely suggesting that a serial killer's violent nature could be caused by a medical program or that he is also a victim of his own twisted psychology is a lot more than you'd expect from a seventies TV show. 

Like many episodes of British television from this time, "Thriller" is a bit flat in its presentation. There's little music and the framing can be rather stage-like. A lot of the hour takes place in the same hotel lobby set. The attraction is clearly in the writing and acting. The epilogue reveals a twist that I probably should have seen coming but that genuinely caught me off-guard, a solidly constructed piece of misdirection. As the fuzz starts to close in on Mark, the killer caught in a web of his own making, some tension is engineered. Michael Jayston does a good job of balancing the seemingly contradictory features of the sociopath. That he is both outwardly charming while remaining nothing but cold to his victims, totally self-centered and manipulative as he works towards making his homicidal fantasies a reality. You can actually believe that Stella, played by a young Helen Mirren in all her purring sensuality, could be attracted to this guy and willing to overlook his obvious eccentricities. Mirren is compelling in the role and the mystery over whether Stella knows more than she lets on is part of what makes the episode successful. This "Thriller" isn't as scary as the other British genre anthologies I've seen but it is a well written and composed affair. [7/10]

 

The Addams Family: Portrait of Gomez

While out moon-bathing one night, the Addams family is interrupted by the phone ringing. It turns out to have been a missed call from Strife Magazine. The family immediately assumes that Gomez has been selected to be the publication's Man of the Year. After an extensive look, Morticia uncovers the perfect photograph for the cover... Only for Cleopatra to gulp it down. The couple next head to the storefront of Gomez' favorite photographer, only to see the man has closed up shop. Dismayed, they hire a private detective to locate the guy. Turns out he's now snapping the driver's license photos for the Department of Motor Vehicles! Gomez realizes that learning how to drive a car might be the easiest way to get the photo portrait he so desires. But, ah, what about the magazine that started off this series of events in the first place? 

If the above plot synopsis didn't make it obvious, “Portrait of Gomez” is an especially rambling episode of “The Addams Family.” It feels like the writers wanted to do an episode about Gomez attempting to get his driver's license, resulting in many wacky scenarios. Rather than build the entire teleplay around that incident, they worked backwards from there and constructed a suitably bizarre chain reaction. The incident that lends the episode its title is something of an afterthought, only occurring after the family is done with going through these bizarre hoops. That makes this entire episode a delivery machine for one oddball visual gag after another. Such as Grandmama being buried alive, the reveal of Gomez' baby picture, the happy couple trying to wrestle the photo away from Cleopatra, the Addams father using Fester's head as a brake pad, and the inevitable results of the driving test. Needless to say, it doesn't go well and, as you'd expect, the Addams are as upbeat about the results as they ever are. 

I enjoyed all of these jokes. Especially the bit about Fester attempting to take a photograph, which gets sillier and sillier as it goes on. It also amused me that the driving test instructor at the DMV is more annoyed than freaked out by the Addams' macabre antics. However, what I found interesting about this one was the deep depression Gomez falls into when he can't locate his favorite photographer. His head sinks low, covered by his hat, and he then suspends himself from the chandelier and won't come down for three days. Wow, we don't often see Gomez in that bad of a funk. I sort of wish the episode explored that more before getting right back to the gaggery. (Which includes a good joke upon Gomez realizing he needs to shave.) One can easily predict that the entire situation with the magazine has been a misunderstanding but that's okay. This is an episode where getting to that conclusion is an amusingly silly ride. [7/10]

Halloween 2024: September 30th

Achoura (2018)

To the 1.9 billion people who identify as Muslims, the concept of the djinn is a well-known one. These invisible creatures, with insubstantial bodies made of smokeless fire, are mentioned 29 times in the Quran. They remain a consistent presence in the folklore of Muslim majority countries. Though the Quran is clear that djinn have free will, as capable of good or evil as human beings, myths usually portray them as mischievous or sinister figures that possess or trick people. In the Anglo world, the concept is still best known through the bowdlerized idea of the wish-granting genie. The morally ambiguous, spirit-like djinn of traditional lore has been making more in-roads in pop culture lately though. In the last decade, they've been the subject of a big budget Hollywood movie and multiple low budget horror flicks from around the world. An example of the latter is "Achoura," advertised as the first monster movie made in Morocco. French-Moroccan director Talal Selhami's film was completed in 2015, released locally in 2018, and found wider distribution in the English-speaking world in 2021. 

Long ago, during the Islamic festival of children, a young girl named Bashira was abducted by an otherworldly creature. Decades after that, a group of four kids – Nadia, Ali, Stéphane, and Samir – were lured into an abandoned house by her spirit. There, they unknowingly unleashed a child-eating djinn known as Bougatate. Samir was made the unwilling host for the creature, taken by the man devoted to keeping it trapped. Years pass and the four grow up. Ali becomes a cop, marries Nadia, and fathers a son with her. Stéphane uses his childhood horrors as inspiration for his career as a painter. When Bougatate is unleashed and Samir comes back into the group's life, they band together again to stop the monster before it takes Nadia and Ali's son. 

The opening scene of "Achoura" shows Bashira, who looks no older than twelve, being the child-bride of a much older man. Ali's specialty in the police department seems to be hunting down child molesters and pedophiles. This does not prevent him from being cold, or physically violent, towards his own son. Stéphane, meanwhile, remains locked in the headspace of his childhood trauma, painting the monster that attacked him over and over again. The anomalous antagonist is unleashed when a young boy approaches Samir, who has been reduced to a crouching, slurring vagrant after years of carrying an evil spirit in his belly. This scene obviously brings scenarios of kids being abducted or abused by random weirdos to mind. The way the script constantly references how the evil creature preys on and devours children – clearly inspired by the Bouchenka and other boogeymen of Morrocan lore – makes the intentions clear. "Achoura" is a film about how our childhood trauma molds us, how it creates both our strengths and our weaknesses. The ending makes it clear that the heroes hope to break this cycle, of abused kids turning into abusers themselves, before it is too late. Wrapping such a premise in fairy tale-like terms is a potent idea. 

It's also a story that bears more than a passing resemblance to Stephen King's "IT." "Achoura" was filmed before the release of the hugely successful 2018 adaptation of King's book. However, the similarities are still hard to ignore. Both stories are about adults reuniting with their tight-knit group of childhood friends, in order to banish the child-eating monster they faced before in their youths. Both groups forget about the horror they fought as kids, except for one who becomes an expert in the subject. King's eldritch terror taking on the form of a clown brought obvious suggestions of kid-diddling perverts to mind, a subtext "Achoura" engages with in ways both more and less direct. King's book, its cinematic adaptations, and "Achoura" all have the heroes entering into a spooky old house to confront the beast. Most obviously, "Achoura" and the literary "IT" cut back and forth between the protagonists' current adulthoods and their childhood days to tell their stories. This presents the biggest problem for Selhami's film. King's book is a sprawling epic that spans over a thousand pages. It has more than enough room to develop its wide cast of characters, digging into their backstories and histories. "Achoura," meanwhile, is only a little over ninety minutes long. It doesn't have time to properly establish its cast as either adult or kids, as well as tell its story of confronting a demon. The result is a film full of thinly developed characters facing off against a mythic villain who never seems to be more than a vague concept. I almost always believe that horror films are best kept short but this is one that very much needed a longer runtime to properly tell its story. 

Since the characters are never more than archetypal, it's difficult to be invested in which ones live and die. Stéphane is only a neurotic artist. Ali is only a hard-ass cop, while Nadia is nothing but a wife and mother dealing with a difficult husband and son. Samir's bizarre circumstances leave him as a walking plot device. Without characters we can attach to, "Achoura" is unable to create any foreboding ambiance. Selhami and cinematographer Mathieu de Montgrand create some decent looking gothic atmosphere, especially once the creepy old house becomes the primary location. However, the central monster is mostly brought to life through CGI of wildly varying quality. Sometimes the creature – whose face resembles a plague doctor mask, a rabbit skull, or an insect with especially yonic mandibles – looks okay. When lurking in a dark corner or under a bed, it's a decent effect. Other times, however, the beast appears as a deeply unconvincing computer-generated model, that never seems to be on the same plain or existence as the performers or sets it interacts with. Instead of keeping the thing in the shadows, the filmmakers thrust it into the light far too often, leaving little chance for it to spook or unnerve the viewer. 

Dismissing "Achoura" as a foreign knock-off of King's work isn't fair. It is steeped in too many culturally specific ideas for that to be the case. However, it seems unlikely that King's book didn't at least inspire center aspects of the movie. Aiming for that universality means the film isn't as distinct as it could have been either. Mostly, a script that doesn't develop its characters enough and some truly mediocre special effects keep this otherwise decently produced motion picture from being more enjoyable. Selhami and his team are talented and I look forward to what they might do in the future, provided they focus less on middling CGI. Ultimately, "Achoura" left me hoping that the next monster movie that gets made in Morocco is better. [5/10] 

The Beast with a Million Eyes (1955)

Earlier this year, we lost a titan of the genre. I can only be referring to Roger Corman, the man whose ability to spot talent while always understanding what an audience wanted made him a pioneering independent filmmaker and a grand elder statesman of the genre. Of course, that's not what Corman is truly famous for. Instead, his ability to stretch a penny as far as he could and crank out B-movies at an astonishing rate was his most notorious talent. Corman's first movie as producer was “Monster from the Ocean Floor” and his first horror movie as director was “Day the World Ended.” Officially anyway. After making his first two pictures of a three picture deal for the nascent American Releasing Company –  not yet known as American International Pictures – the still learning Corman overspent a little on “Five Guns West.” This left the third movie, “The Beast with a Million Eyes,” only 29,000 dollars to work with. Running into issues with the unions, Corman took over directing from credited filmmaker, David Kramarsky, to get the flick in the can. This gives “The Beast” the somewhat dubious distinction of being Corman's technical first horror movie.

Somewhere in the Coachella Valley, Allan Kelley and his family – nervous wife Carol, tomboy daughter Sandy – reside on his struggling date farm. The only other people for company is a strange, mute workhand who only goes by “Him” and the family dog, Duke. The tensions in the household peek when a strange aircraft passes overhead, shattering all the glass in the house. Afterwards, Carol notices that Duke is acting violently. All the animals in the area are behaving strangely. Both Sandy and Him start to wander off into the desert in trances. Allan becomes increasingly convinced something has landed near-by. He's right: An alien entity without form and driven only by a cruel intelligence has arrived, observing the humans through the eyes of all the animals it can possess. 

Within the realm of vintage drive-in monster flicks, "Beast with a Million Eyes" is notorious for featuring a grotesque creature on the poster that never actually appears in the film. Knowing this still did not prepare me for how low-key exactly this particular motion picture is though. For most of its short 77 minute runtime, "Beast with a Million Eyes" is less of a monster movie and more of a suffocating melodrama about an isolated family on the verge of collapse. Father Allan begins the movie with an internal monologue about the crushing failure of farming dates. Shortly after being introduced, mother Carol admits she resents her own daughter for having youth and beauty. Later, when she's forced to kill Sandy's beloved dog, it's easy to believe that the woman would do it only to punish the daughter she despises so much. "Him," by far the strangest character in the movie, is introduced glaring at the women through the window of his shed. He decorates his walls with cut-outs of pin-up girls and clutches a girly magazine. Later, when teenage Sandy takes a dive in the local swimming hole, he climbs into a date tree and spies on her. Despite how obviously uncomfortable this creepy guy makes the women, Allan laughs it off and ignores the concerns of his wife and daughter. Lorna Thayer plays Carol as barely holding it together, a hysterical and overdone performance, while Paul Birch is nothing but a bland, stately voice of authority as Allan. The wife is losing her mind, the husband is clueless, the daughter needs someone to genuinely care about her, and the hired help seems minute away from committing a sex crime. You find yourself really wishing a monster would show up already, simply so you can get away from this dysfunctional, miserable family for a few minutes.

Not that the scenes of sci-fi/horror are much better than the plodding, miserablist melodrama. Every attempt the film makes to be scary or suspenseful proves to be underwhelming. The Beast seizing control of animals could've been an interesting premise. The scenes of simple black birds pelting a car or the family dog turned into a killer subvert commonplace creatures into objects of fear. However, the actors rarely interacting with the animals. When Duke the dog is terrorizing Carol, the actress never seems to be in the same room with the canine. A scene where a docile milk cow becomes vicious is similarly awkward in its construction, mostly composed of closeup on the heifer's face cut with people cowering on the ground. When the cast actually does touch the animals, the results are no more impressive. A scene where Carol is attacked by leaping chickens produces laughter rather than shivers. A brief opening narration explains how the titular beast has a million eyes, a desperate attempt to justify a lurid title in a film that couldn't afford a real monster. Instead, the "beast" is mostly represented by a twirling device in a cave that makes an annoying noise. When Sam Arkoff saw the finished movie, he reportedly insisted an actual monster be hastily inserted. Paul Blaisdell, in the first of his many jobs for AIP, was given all of two hundred bucks to whip something up. The result is a snarly faced miniature that appears in one blurry sequence near the end, never stepping outside of the (unconvincingly tiny) spaceship as it glares at the humans. Blaisdell said the entire scene was shot in ten minutes, so I suppose the results are actually decent considering those circumstances. 

Tom Filer's script obviously can't shine much when surrounded by such meager production values. The story is largely composed of the family bickering in their home or people wandering around the desert. Allan comes to some surprising leaps of logic concerning the threat at hand, which seems far beyond his mundane skills of observation. One attack sequence takes place entirely off-screen, Carol unenthusiastically explaining the events that brought them back to that damn farm house. Incidental dialogue from Sandy's boyfriend or the cattle rancher is mind-numbingly inane. Repeated references to a "plane" or all the glass in the house shattering are attempts to pad the script out. "Him's" backstory, the reason the dad tolerates the obvious creep's behavior, is dropped on us in one maudlin monologue. The biggest indicator of the film's cheapness is the climax, which takes the form of Allan and the family arguing with the psychic voice of the invader. How the dialogue keeps circling back to themes of love and togetherness, concepts the alien intelligence can't comprehend, quickly becomes hilariously overwrought. Those unearned pretensions continue into a philosophical postscript, which seems to add some vague religious context to all that has occurred. It is, to say the least, underwhelming. (And no "what is this thing you call love?" rambling could cover up that Flier's premise isn't much more than a rip-off of "It Came from Outer Space.")

I'm a fan of cheapie monster movies and my tolerance for B-movie tedium is higher than most. "The Beast with a Million Eyes" still had me fighting sleep, the finished film feeling much longer than it actually is. When you read about the behind-the-scenes struggles of the production – much more interesting than the actual movie, it must be said – I suppose it's impressive that a presentable motion picture was assembled at all. Clearly, Roger Corman's abilities to simply get the footage in the can, no matter how meager that budget was, were honed during shoots like this. That doesn't mean "The Beast with a Million Eyes" is good though. We were a while off from ol' Rog being able to toss together a cult classic like "A Bucket of Blood" or "Little Shop of Horrors" within a weekend. Instead, "The Beast with a Million Eyes" is largely dull, filled with off-putting characters and desperate attempts to add some depth to a story where little actually happens. An overwhelming shoddiness infects the entire picture, with little of the charm or cleverness that would characterize AIP's later monster quickie. That a nightmare production like this, resulting in such a lame movie, didn't put Corman off filmmaking forever – instead kicking off an astonishingly prolific, nearly seventy year long career with an immeasurable legacy – is a testament to his skill, talent, and sheer passion for the medium. "The Beast with a Million Eyes" mostly blows but Roger Corman will always be a hero of mine. [4/10]

The Ray Bradbury Theater: The Coffin 

Out of the roughly ten thousand stories Ray Bradbury wrote – about 9,000 of which are fucking phenomenal – 65 would be adapted for "The Ray Bradbury Theater" over the course of six seasons and two networks. "The Coffin" is one such episode. Charles Braling is a very rich, brilliant, and reclusive inventor and roboticist. His younger brother, Richard, is greedy and broke. The two had a falling out over a woman some time ago. Richard visits his brother's mansion, maintained by robotic butlers, and discovers him building an elaborate coffin. Charles, in poor health, passes away after the two have an argument. Richard is willed the house and everything within it. Shortly before his death, Charles hid his entire fortune somewhere inside the building. Having ignored his brother's wishes, Charles left the mechanical coffin in his lab. He soon deduces that the money must be hidden there, fulfilling a plot of revenge from beyond the grave. 

For its first half, "The Coffin" is essentially a two-man play between beloved character actors Dan O'Herlihy and Denholm Elliot. O'Herlihy's deep voice and commanding presence makes Richard Brasling immediately seem like the wiser, more upright of the brothers. Elliot, meanwhile, brings an appropriate weaselly quality to Charles, a cad if there ever was one. That the two stars can so quickly establish who these characters are is good, since we only have 22 minutes to tell this story. Bradbury's precise dialogue sounds extremely good coming out of O'Herlihy's mouth. After his character dies, that voice is still put to good use. Even if watching Denholm Elliot by himself, entertaining a performer as he may be, isn't as compelling as seeing these two eighties genre icons verbally spar. 

If you haven't read the original story – I haven't gotten to this one yet – it's still fairly easy to deduce where all this is headed. However, it's certainly still a ride worth taking. The robots represent the past's version of the future, meaning they are incredibly charming to see now. That's an example of "The Ray Bradbury Theater's" limited budget actually working in its favor. The climatic booby trap plays out as both black comedy and surprisingly chilling horror. As he's trapped inside the coffin, Charles is berated by a demeaning message from his late brother. The episode cuts between the panicking Charles inside the glass case and the view outside, in which his cries are totally unheard behind the sound-proof material. Unsettling! The very final image pairs the fear of being buried alive with a sense of bitter justice, a bastard done in through suitably ironic means by a lesser bastard. Exactly the kind of sci-fi tinged but deliciously macabre fables Bradbury specialized in, brought to life faithfully by some fine actors. [7/10]

The Addams Family: The Addams Family in Court

Gomez Addams' rarely utilized profession as a lawyer takes center stage in "The Addams Family in Court." While Morticia and her husband were out bat hunting, Granmama has taken up her old habit of fortune telling again. She's successful enough to attract the attention of the police, who take Granmama away to prison for a municipal code violations. It's a simple ten dollar fee but Gomez decides to take the case, his loophole heavy defense thoroughly baffling and irritating the straight-laced judge. 

Despite appearing in the opening credits of every episode, Blossom Rock hasn't gotten much to do as Granmama over the course of these first twenty episodes. "The Addams Family in Court" is a rare Granmama-centric episode. Previous installments mostly portrayed her as a wild old woman fond of battle axes and darts. That characterization continues here, in amusing scenes of Rock clanging a tin cup against her jail cell bars only because she saw it in a prison movie once. This episode also established Granmama's more common attribute as an old witch with a mischievous streak. Her powers of precognition seem quite genuine but her fortuneteller act still feels like a con job. I imagine she likes it that way. Rock does get several laughs here, whenever asked to display an innocent seeming face or where enthusiastically practicing what amounts to her carnival act. 

For the most part though, this is another episode devoted to the Addamses Freakin' Out the Squares. Gomez' tactics as a lawyer seems to mostly be confusing the judge with as much nonsense as possible, while throwing around wild accusations. This is presumably why he has a perfect record of no wins or losses. A lot of the expected gags – Thing popping out of an unusual place, Fester sticking a lightbulb on his mouth – show up, while the judge looks on in shock. Hal Smith makes for a fairly tedious straight man. He's then driven off to some obscure corner of the world by his experience with the Addams, as usual by now.  However, there are some good gags in this episode. How the court case concludes is amusing enough. The discussion of bat hunting at the beginning made me chuckle, as did the cop's reaction to Uncle Fester's bald head. The episode's final scene features a cute double headed teapot, one of the many amazing props for this show that disappeared after its cancelation. [6/10]

Halloween 2023: October 12th

Nekromantik (1988)

In the world of disturbing paraphilias, necrophilia certainly ranks among the most taboo. Aside from the unlikeliness that the deceased would consent if alive, there’s the unavoidable matter that being sexually intimate with a rotting corpse is excessively gross to most people. Just the smell of decaying flesh is enough to send many fleeing. The idea of someone diving in crotch-first is especially depraved. Yet there’s a strange romance to the act, to the thought of love — or at least desire — extending into the grave. This contradiction has been inspiring artists and writers for eons, sometimes to poetic ends and sometimes to merely shocking ones. In the latter column resides “Nekromantik,” a notorious German gross-out fest that has been testing horror fans’ tolerance of “Can you believe this shit?” outrageousness for thirty-five years now. Unsurprisingly, this has made it a cult favorite among adventurous gore hounds. I’ve never seen the movie before so let’s, uh, dig this one up. 

Rob works for a street cleaning company, which frequently removes dead bodies and other gore from the sight of tragic accidents. This morbid profession also allows an easy path for Rob to indulge his favorite hobby. That would be a sexual passion for corpses. His girlfriend, Betty, shares this necrophilic desire. She’s especially enthusiastic about the latest dead plaything Rob has dragged home. Yet when Rob is fired from his job, Betty leaves with the rotting cadaver. This causes the titular Nekromantik to spiral even further into madness. 

“Nekromantik’s” very first scene is of an old woman pulling down her panties, squatting on the side of the road, and urinating. That should tell you everything you need to know about the film’s intentions. And it only gets groddier from there. To read director Jörg Buttgereit emerged from the punk rock scene, and mostly made this movie as a big fuck-you to West Germany's strict censorship laws, is unsurprising. The movie assaults the viewer with one gross event after another. Real footage of a rabbit being slaughtered occurs early on, proceeding simulated footage of a cat being killed later on. When not fucking corpses, Rob roots around inside their chest cavities during crude autopsies. Of course, the centerpiece of "Nekromantik" is a lengthy threesome between Rob, Betty, and a dead body. (With a sawed-off pipe standing in for the rotted away phallus.) The film is obviously an extended dare to the viewer, trying to see how much squishy depravity you can handle before it sends you fleeing or makes you puke. 

"Nekromantik's" status as an assault on good taste is also obvious in its presentation. Buttgereit shot the movie on Super-8, leading to a cramped aspect ratio and frequently shaky camerawork. The lighting and colors are washed out and grimy. The performances are unpolished, with Daktari Lorenz as Rob being especially stiff. As much as the movie seeks to shock its audience, the special effects are also rather crude. The corpses are obviously rubber and the entrails clearly belong to animals. No matter how grungy the film gets, the impression it made on me is one of comedy, not full-bore horror. "Nekromantik" placing the sexual foibles of the living alongside the placid dead means it's closer tonally to a Troma movie than endurance tests like "Cannibal Holocaust" or "Ichi the Killer." Only the actual death of a rabbit manages to be genuinely upsetting.

As much as Buttgereit was clearly fucking around by throwing as many bodily fluids into his movie as possible, "Nekromantik" contains inevitable grasps as pretensions. I suppose this is the German sensibility at work. The three-way with a corpse is presented as a frequently kaleidoscopic montage. Betty reads a love poem to the dead body, pondering on the nature of love, while Rob has a weird dream in the latter half. Moreover, Buttgereit seems to want to say something about the living's relationship with the dead. He cuts from an autopsy to a steak being cooked, as if to suggest we all become just meat eventually. Rob also watches a slasher movie late in the story, which deeply bores him, seemingly some sort of commentary on the state of the horror genre in 1988. It's clear that the filmmaker, despite his stated goal of simply pissing off the censors, had more on his mind here. 

Maybe Buttgereit's ambitions outstripped his budget. The only time "Nekromantik's" attempts to blend vomit-inducing gross-outs with more poetic ideas succeeds is the rather literal climax. As well as the piano-driven main theme, which manages to generate more emotional catharsis than anything in the screenplay. Despite its rickety budget and thin screenplay, there is a certain appeal to the homemade nastiness on-display here. I guess I'm too much of a perpetual horror punk — or a pretentious would-be creative type — not to relate to where Buttgereit is coming from. "Nekromantik" is crude as can be and is absolutely gross while also falling short of how shocking it wants to be. Yet I'm not surprised it developed a cult following among strong-stomached horror fans. There is a certain something to this corpse-fucking saga, despite its obvious limitations. [6/10]

Creature from the Haunted Sea (1961)

I've been talking a little bit about Filmgroup, the company Roger Corman created with his brother Gene before rejoining A.I.P. Yet I haven't yet covered any of the films Corman himself directed for his own company. Such as “Creature from the Haunted Sea.” Like almost all of Filmgroup's productions, was also not copyrighted and fell into the public domain immediately. This means the movie's central visual – a ridiculous, mossy monster crawling out of the sea to abduct a pretty blonde – can be used by anyone, royalty-free. And it has, in the opening of “Malcolm in the Middle” and episodes of “Muppet Babies.” It seems anytime someone wants to use some footage of a ridiculous monster, from some old horror flick, this is the one they go with. But what about the movie itself? Is it as laughable as that one clip makes it seem?

An American secret agent, code-named XK150, infiltrates a gang of crooks planning to steal a horde of gold, being smuggled out of Castro's Cuba by a group of Cuban loyalist. The scheme, led by an on-the-run gambler named Capetto, involves locating the gold, killing the Cubans, and blaming the murders on a legendary sea monster said to roam the area. Capetto and his incredibly eccentric team will provide the monster themselves, of course. As the boat travels further into the ocean, the men get attached to some local girls while XK150 develops a crush on Capetto's moll. The scheme is interrupted when a real monster emerges from the deep and begins attacking people.

At this point in his career, Roger Corman had already directed over twenty movies, including several low-budget monster and sci-fi movies. This was right before he began making the Poe Cycle for AIP, and around the same time he made “Bucket of Blood” and “Little Shop of Horrors.” All of this suggests that Roger was getting a little bored of the traditional creature feature formula by this point. In other words: He started to fuck around. This is readily apparent in “Creature from the Haunted Sea,” which is a full-blown farce. The movie is full of oddball jokes, like the hero calling back to Washington on a pay phone, while a random guy impatiently waits to use it next. Or the film's main eye candy warbling a tuneless theme song before being told to abruptly stop singing. If you didn't know what you were getting into, the film makes its comical intentions clear early on. The opening credits play against some goofy cartoons.

Another element of “Creature from the Haunted Sea” that is blatantly absurd is its cast of bizarre characters. As far as heroic spies go, XK150 is largely incompetent. His deadpan voiceover describes each characters' history and quirks in extensive terms. He builds up his own mythology in his head, while the film shows him as usually unsuccessful. Such as his attempts to seduce Mary-Belle, which are rebuffed every time. Yet the spy is far from the film's only weird character. Among the crew is a guy who mostly communicates in animal noises, Mary-Belle's brother who has a disorder that makes him constantly smile, and a Cuban general that only speaks Spanish. As the movie progresses, more bizarre characters – including a local island girl, who only cares about selling stuff to tourist – appear.

The goofy gags and oddball characters are certainly memorable. Yet “Creature from the Haunted Sea” is still undeniably a thrown together affair. Its plot is often hard to follow, with far too large a cast to keep track of and a story that meanders around without much focus. Despite the central scheme being relatively straight-forward, the film still seems to approach it in far from a straight line. The ridiculously looking monster – supposedly assembled for all of 150 dollars – also isn't in nearly enough of the movie. Truthfully, the creature lurks on the edge of the film for most of its run time, before finally doing something in the final minutes. That means the off-beat characters and digressing plot occupy most of the run time. That's not as much fun as a ping-pong ball eyed sea monster.

Apparently, “Creature from the Haunted Sea” was exactly as slapdash a production as it seems to be. Corman was in Puerto Rico to film “Last Woman on Earth” and, ever the overachiever, decided to shoot an entirely separate movie with the left-over film. He had Charles B. Griffith cook up a script in six days, the writer largely recycling the premise of “Beast from the Haunted Cave.” Supposedly, he intentionally made the story and characters weird to frustrate Corman. While similar conditions which result in classics like “A Bucket of Blood” and “Little Shop,” “Creature from the Haunted Sea” is a little too preoccupied with its own flippancy without giving the audience enough of what we expect. [6/10]

The Twilight Zone (1985): Something in the Walls

The eighties iteration of “The Twilight Zone” doesn't seem to have made as much of an impact on pop culture as the original. Yet I can recall cousins of mine discussing an episode that frightened them as boys once. That would be “Something in the Walls,” from the show's third season. It follows Dr. Mallory, a new addition to a psychiatric hospital. He quickly becomes enamored with Sharon, the facility's most baffling patient. Appearing perfectly calm, Sharon refuses to have any patterns on her room's wall paper or in her clothes. She believes that faces can be seen in patterns and that these '”faces” belong to malevolent entities from another dimension, attempting to push their way into our world. Mallory dismisses these fears are plain old pareidolia and delusions. Yet, the more he studies Mallory's case, the more he finds himself looking at patterns on the wall with curiosity. 

I can see why “Something in the Walls” made an impression on my cousins when they were young. It features a corker of a sequence about halfway through. While describing how she came to hold this apparent delusion, Sharon explains the first night she saw something in the walls. Set in a dark room with a flashing thunderstorm outside, she slowly sees a set of faces emerge through the walls. This is accomplished via the reliably freaky special effects of faces stretching through pliable latex, as seen in “A Nightmare on Elm Street” or that creepy U.N. Peacekeepers commercial. Director Alan Kroeker, who has worked almost exclusively in television, brings a lot of nightmarish intensity to this scene.  I can see this moment easily traumatizing an unprepared kid.

Ultimately, “Something in the Walls'” premise does pretty much all the heavy lifting here. It's a creepy enough idea, that the faces we imagine in meaningless patterns might actually be alive. Deborah Raffin and Damir Andrei are totally serviceable in the lead roles. Yet very little time is given to develop these two into characters with any depth. The episode is basically a delivery system for that scary-ass middle scene and a downbeat ending. While it certainly lacks the social commentary of the best classic episodes of "Zone," “Something in the Walls” is still pretty freaky for an episode of eighties television. Sometimes that is enough. [7/10]

The Munsters: A House Divided / Herman's Sorority Caper

Big physical gags rule the day in these two episodes of “The Munsters.” “A House Divided” begins with Herman and Grandpa making a go-cart for Eddie's birthday. When Herman crashes the little car, an argument builds between grandfather and son-in-law. They paint a line halfway through the house, literally dividing it in two, frustrating Marilyn and Lily to no end. “Herman's Sorority Caper” has the Munster patriarch developing a supersized case of hiccups. Grandpa hypnotizing him into catatonia as part of curing the condition. That's when a college fraternity decides spending a night in the Munsters' house – which they mistakenly assume is abandoned – is the ideal frat initiation. The kids grab Herman and stick him in the rival sorority's house.

“A House Divided” builds upon on of this show's best attributes. That would be the chemistry between Fred Gwynne and Al Lewis. They spent almost the entire episode bickering about the pettiest shit imaginable. This involves cutting objects in half, fighting over the TV, and even splitting Spot up between them. This makes for some solid gags, such as when Herman cuts the phone cord just as Grandpa is talking to someone. Lily and Marilyn's increasingly perturbed reaction to this rivalry also make for some healthy chuckles. I guess the women in old sitcoms just naturally become the straight men, in comparison to the buffoonish men. There's also an extended sequence of Herman Munster driving around in a go-cart, clearly a precursor to cinematic masterpiece “Leprechaun.”

“Herman's Sorority Caper” is essentially devoted to two types of gags. That would be Herman and Grandpa's oversized reaction to simple problems. Such as his over-the-top hiccups or the extremely goofy hypnotism sequence. The rest of the episode is devoted to contrasting the Munsters with the college kids. The boys dismissing each freaky sight they see in the house isn't the funniest. However, Herman's panic upon awakening in a sorority house is better. That plays off the character's sweet nature, as he doesn't actually want to be caught lurking around a bunch of teenage girls, and goes to ridiculous heights to prevent detection. As always, Gwynne's likable goof-ball antics and Lewis' sarcasm help patch over a gimmicky script. Which is most apparent in the wackiness Grandpa gets up to at the end. Once again, we see that Grandpa has a reflection, proving that this show is not really committed to the whole vampire idea. [A House Divided: 7/10 / Herman's Sorority Caper: 7/10]

Halloween 2022: October 12th

Annihilation (2018)

It seems to me that A24 movies rarely make much money but they frequently make an impression critically. “Ex Machina” intrigued writers and film fans all over the world. This must have caught the attention of Paramount and Skydance Media. They hired the filmmaker to direct an adaptation of Jeff VanderMeer's brain twisting novel “Annihilation.” At some point, the studio realized they hired a weird sci-fi director to make a weird sci-fi movie. “Annihilation” would end up being split between a limited theatrical release and a Netflix debut, which doubtlessly effected its box office performance. Not that this mattered to the people who just want movies to be good, as “Annihilation” immediately became a new favorite for film nerds to discuss and dissect. 

Biologist and army vet Lena unexpectedly sees her husband, thought to be missing-in-action, return home. He's rushed to the hospital, following further strange behavior. Lena soon learns that Kane was deployed to the Shimmer, an extraterrestrial anomaly that has overtaken a coastal area after a meteor strike. Lena is recruited as part of a team to go inside the Shimmer and investigate further. What they find is a bizarre habitat where animals, people, and nature are mutating in unpredictable ways. The women fight off twisted animals as they make their way to the lighthouse at the center of the Shimmer, increasingly uncertain of how being inside the area is effecting them.

Much like “Ex Machina,” Garland blends numerous high-minded ideas into “Annihilation.” Early in the film, Natalie Portman's Lena explains the life cycle of a cell and how it expands, grows, and evolves. This predicts many of the events she will encounter inside the Shimmer, though never in obvious ways. Many of the sci-fi themes introduced through the film – how a species survives, how matter changes – are introduced in service of a cosmic horror storyline. Ultimately, the purpose of the Shimmer and what exactly it does to people – much less whatever intelligence may be behind the phenomenon – can never be fully understood. The further “Annihilation” goes on, the more cerebral its far-out horror gets, until the idea of genetic reproduction is played out as a shapeless alien entity mirroring the heroine's moves in deadly ways. 

Surprisingly, as brain-teasing as “Annihilation” strives to be,  it clearly models itself after classic films in the sci-fi/horror genre. The story of soldiers going into a weird area to fight monsters recalls “Aliens.” Fittingly, Garland doubles-down on that idea and populates the entire cast with Ripleys. Each of the women on Lena's team have faced loss or tragedy in some way. Jennifer Jason Leigh's cold Dr. Ventress is dying of cancer. Tuva Novotny's nurturing Cass has a dead daughter in her past. Tessa Thompson's brainy Josie is a former addict and Gina Rodriguez's tough Anya looses her lover throughout the story. Lena, meanwhile, is recovering from the guilt of cheating on her husband. Each of these women are facing down the abyss. The Shimmer is a metaphor for the inevitable forces of change in life, in all the tragic paths it can take. Each of the women wrestle with that literal and metaphorical change in way that reflect their personalities. Some flee from it, some are consumed by it, and the best of them find a way to move on. 

There's a lot going on inside “Annihilation's” head but that doesn't stop it from being a scary-as-hell horror movie. An attack with a massive, albino alligator is tense and frenzied. The sense of control the women have is lost when they uncover a disturbing video of what happened to the last team, a squirm-inducing bit of body horror shot in a way that rivals the best found footage film. The scariest moment in the film involves a terrifying mutant bear creature, that confronts the women in a darkened room. The creature's design is realistic but grotesque while its ability to replicate the human voice adds a level of nightmarish horror to the scenario. “Annihilation” never tops the intensity and terror of that sequence, though the swirling climax sure tries. 

That finale is made especially unnerving thanks to the movie's bizarre, pounding musical score. The vibrating noise on the soundtrack helps makes the image of Natalie Portman fighting off an otherworldly mimic more unsettling. This is proceeded by some swirling, truly unexpected color. Those are just two good examples of what an impressive visual achievement “Annihilation” is. The scientific stillness Garland utilized in “Ex Machina” is put to good use here, to make the odd images seem even more curious from the contrast. The special effects and production design are clearly top-notch. The increasingly unusual landscapes of the Shimmer are unforgettable. The way human, fungus, and the land around them seem to blend together create some highly memorable sights. 

 

I don't pretend to understand everything about “Annihilation.” It's the kind of movie that's ever so high-minded in its goal that it becomes impenetrable to the layman. (I hear the book is even harder to wrap your brain around.) Or maybe the filmmakers were just presenting some weird, freaky shit to us and thought some vague science could justify it. However you frame it, “Annihilation” is an intoxicating swirl of intense horror, mind-bending ideas, and universal themes. A strong cast, giving full-bodied emotional performances, helps ground the movie and keep it from being too clinical. The result is an impressive burst of cosmic horror. I'm glad I got to see the movie in theaters in 2018, where it can really overwhelm the viewer, but it plays just as well on the small screen. [9/10]

The Wasp Woman (1959)

Roger Corman has made a lot of movies and I'll forever associate him with his years spent at American International Pictures and New World Pictures. Corman was always an innovative businessman though. He made his first few films independently. In 1959, Roger and his brother Gene created Filmgroup, which was both a production and distribution company. The company was making its films so quickly and cheaply that Corman didn't bother copyrighting most of what they made. Ironically, this lapse in judgement means the disposable teen flicks and creature features Corman made at Filmgroup became staples of late night TV shows and the horror host circuit. This granted movies meant to run in drive-ins for a few weeks at most and give them far more longevity than ever could've been expected. “The Wasp Woman” is a typical example. 

Janice Starlin is the founder of a popular cosmetics company. Janice has always been the face of her own product. Now that the public can see she's visibly aging, the company's sales are starting to suffer. Desperate for a solution, Janice turns to controversial scientist, Dr. Zinthrop. Zinthrop has begun injecting animals with the royal jelly of queen wasps, resulting in their aging being reversed. The injections work and Starlin quickly looks twenty years younger, planning to make the procedure available commercially. Yet when the doctor gets in a car accident and can't give Janice her treatments, her withdrawal produces a ghastly side effect: She turns into a half-woman, half-wasp monster that seeks out blood. 

“The Wasp Woman” has a clever idea at its core. Such as the next year's “The Leech Woman,” it shows what a woman will do in the pursuit of vanity. Janice Starlin turns herself into a hideous bug woman in her quest to retain her youth. Yet Corman's film is a little deeper – and a little less sexist – than the Universal one. Starin is a female business owner and it's clear the men around her don't treat her very seriously. She's taken the one attribute she has in a patriarchal society – her feminine beauty – and built a career out of it. The minute she starts to naturally age, her career and everyone she employs starts to suffer. While I'm doubtful any sort of feminist subtext was intentional, the film remains more sympathetic to its Wasp Woman then you might expect. At the very least, Corman and his writers seem to agree that Starlin's motivations are understandable. She's not just being vain.

Don't mistake the analysis above for evidence that “The Wasp Woman” is more subversive than it actually is. This is a pretty typical 1950s B-movie. The script clearly doesn't take itself too seriously and fills its supporting cast with a number of ridiculous characters. Once Dr. Zinthrop suffers his head injury, he goes from a well-intentioned scientist to a mumbling invalid, which can't help but be amusing. Even before then, he has a goofy accent. Among the murdered is a portly night watchman, who is always messing with a portable radio. The catty dialogue exchanged among the secretaries and male workers of the company show that “The Wasp Woman's” gender politics are very of its time. Screenwriter Leo Gordon seemed to think that a woman's value and her beauty are closely linked and the dialogue reflects that.

Despite its many goofy characters and a frequently silly jazz score (salvaged from Corman's “Bucket of Blood”), “The Wasp Woman” still proves to be a satisfying little monster movie. Corman's direction is surprisingly stylish at times. Images of a bustling beehive are overlaid over the expected montage of the scientist working in his lab. During the climatic struggle, there's a cool shot of a chair shoved right at the camera. Most of the film is set in boxy, undistinguished boardrooms and offices. Yet Corman adds a dollop of noir-lite shadows to these area, creating a fair bit of atmosphere. The monster make-up isn't too impressive. Starlin grows bug-eyes, antenna, and hairy claws. Yet shrouding the beast in shadows, focusing on its frenzied attacks, and adding a little bit of blood makes for some entertaining sequences. 

In other words: “The Wasp Woman” is unambitious and ordinary yet perfectly satisfying within the humble goals it sets for itself. It's a little more thoughtful about the anxieties some women might have felt in 1959, while still providing the dated attitudes – which now play as camp – fans expect. As goofy as it can get, it takes itself seriously. While it's never scary, the film is damn well trying its best. Plus, it's all over in an hour. “The Wasp Woman” probably owes whatever cult following it has to its outrageous poster art. (Which, naturally, does not reflect how the monster in the movie actually looks.) Yet it's not a bad little bit of monster mayhem either. Never doubt that Roger Corman knew what he was doing. I wonder if that Jim Wynorski directed remake from the early nineties is any good? [7/10]

The Twilight Zone (1985): A Little Peace and Quiet

The second half of the first episode of the 1986 iteration of "The Twilight Zone" is also regarded among the revival's best. Wes Craven, who also directed "Shatterday," handled this segment as well. "A Little Peace and Quiet" is about Penny, a hurried housewife and mother of four rambunctious kids. Her home is constantly full of noise and even the family dog is usually barking. While digging in her garden, she discovers a mysterious box. Inside is a golden pendent of a sundial. Penny soon learns that, if she yells "Shut up!" while wearing the pendent, she can freeze time. She used this new ability to get some much needed rest and relaxation, eventually even using it to remove some petty frustrations from her life. Yet one thing she can't stop is the tide of history and geopolitical conflict...

As I mentioned in my review of "Creepshow's" "Time Out," I think we've all dreamed of scenarios like this. Penny doesn't use the ability to freeze time to get more work done, merely to escape the constant noise and stress of her life. This too is a relatable emotion and Melinda Dillion, as Penny, does a wonderful job of conveying that sense of frustration and the relief she finds afterwards. Her kids are obnoxious, her husband is an unhelpful dumb-ass, and everyone around her is either lecturing or being belligerent. Craven and the sound team did a great job of creating a constant soundscape of irritating noise, whether that be the kids screaming or the next door neighbor chainsawing a tree. You relate so much to Penny that you can't even complaint when she steps outside polite boundaries a little bit. Such as when she steals a box of cereal her kids wanted from a rival mom or pokes a cute guy's butt in as harmless a fashion as possible. Honestly pretty mild stuff compared to what some people would do with time stopping abilities.

Because the eighties "Zone" felt the need to follow the tradition of ironic endings as much as possible, Penny must still be punished for her trespasses. The episode could've done a lot better at putting the Cold War conflict in the story's background. News reports or radio chatter about splintering peace talks is fine but having peace activist come to Penny's door makes the incoming ending too easy to predict. The moral is obvious - you can't ignore the problems of the world forever - and the final ending is chilling. (And nicely supported by the decision to have the end credits play out in complete silence.) But I don't think Penny deserved that. She's just an overworked woman in need of a vacation and maybe a divorce. Either way, the impact of that last scene, Dillion's performance, and some of Craven's trademark oddball humor is enough to make this an easy-to-recommend episode. [7/10]

The Munsters: Herman the Rookie / Country Club Munsters

After getting into wrestling and basketball, Herman becomes a baseball star in “Herman the Rookie.” While out playing ball with Eddie, Herman bats one eight full blocks away. It bops a recruiter on the head, who immediately tracks Herman down and gets him on a professional team. The minute Herman gets on the field, his tremendous strength and goofy behavior immediately becomes a problem. “Country Club Munsters” has the family winning acceptance to an exclusive country club via a television contest. The other members are admittedly put-off by the Munsters’ eccentric manners but it takes Herman longer to accept. 

“Herman the Rookie” starts out a bit slow. The scenes of Leo Durocher – apparently a real life figure in baseball history – arriving at 1313 Mockingbird Lane and being shocked by what he sees is awfully old hat for this show. Once Herman joins the team, things escalate in a nicely ridiculous fashion. We’re welcomed to a series of incredibly broad sight gags, of Herman reeking havoc on the baseball field. The show has gotten good at pulling off silly, fast-paced bits of physical comedy like this. The conclusion to the episode, where Herman predictably doesn’t make the team, is both funny and sweet. Al Lewis gets one of the best lines here and Lily’s phone conversation with Herman’s boss at the funeral home is another solid moment. And I do appreciate the final scene, where the writers outright dismiss the idea of Herman getting on any other sports team. 

Of course, the next episode immediately goes in on more sports jokes. Herman and Eddie spend a good bit of “Country Club Munsters” playing golf, with predictably ridiculous results. Though Herman wearing flannel Doc Martins on the green is a nice touch, as is what happens when he attempts to retrieve a ball from the hole. This one returns too often to the joke of Herman leaping in excitement or outrage and sinking through the floor. Al Lewis and Yvonne De Carlo do get some nice gags to themselves, such as Grandpa’s reaction to Herman’s golf game or Lily attempting to communicate with the other ladies at the country club. Disappointingly, there’s no actual climax though, the show ending shortly after Herman’s day golfing. I have to wonder if Adam Sandler and his “Happy Gilmore” co-conspirators saw these two episodes. Put the premise of golf shenanigans and a guy with an otherworldly long game but no short skills and you have the set-up for that movie. [Herman the Rookie: 6/10 / Country Club Munsters: 6/10]