Halloween 2026: September 27th

 

Kraken (2026)
 

The Norwegian film industry has, within the last decade, made an honest attempt to establish itself as an international hot spot. The country can now claim several big budget summer blockbusters of its own, with special effects and urban destruction almost comparable to their Hollywood equivalents. Proving once again that Legendary's “Godzilla” truly did renew global interest in giant monsters, a few of these titles feature enormous beasts. Yes, the tally of Norwegian kaiju movies now totals three. First, there was Roar Uthaug’s “Troll,” about a big ass troll attacking Oslo. Next was “Troll 2,” in which a good big-ass troll fought a bad big-ass troll. Now, another famous beastie from Nordic mythology is getting a similar treatment. “Kraken” arrived earlier this year. It is from director Pål Øie, who has followed in Roar’s footsteps by leaping from slasher flicks to disaster movies to giant monsters. 

Decades ago, several witnesses saw something huge in the waters of the Sognefjord. Today, the deepest of all of Norway’s fjords is now the home of an industrialized salmon farm. The farm makes use of ultra-sonic devices to drive sea lice away from the fish. These machines were invented by Johanne, who distanced herself from the work over ecological concerns. However, with pressure from investors mounting, she’s drawn back to the project. A pair of teenagers disappear on the fjord, their mangled bodies discovered soon afterwards. This is the first of several strange events around the water. Against Johanne’s wishes, the frequencies of the devices are increased. This further agitates something dwelling deep within the waters. It’s not long before a massive tentacled beast is emerging from the fjord, Johannes and her co-workers attempting to stop it from causing more destruction. 

The kraken does not originate in pre-Christian religions or ancient folkloric beliefs, like most of the sea monsters of the Scandinavian region. Instead, it was basically to 1600 Norwegian sailors what Bigfoot was to early 20th century American lumberjacks: A rumored creature spotted briefly but never confirmed, probably based on glimpses of actual animals that were exaggerated over time. Øie follows this lead by basing his “Kraken” in modern ecological concerns. One of the first scenes is of the salmon farm manager showing off a fossilized arrow head. It’s been uncovered because global warming is melting glaciers. Rather than take this as a deeply concerning sign of how man-made industry is changing nature, the guy instead turns it into a sales pitch. Capitalism has no regard for the natural order of things. The dead bodies are piling up. The businessmen are specifically warned against continuing forward. They do it all anyway, further awakening the wrath of a giant monster. In the modern era, Godzilla and his brethren have been distanced from their atomic origins and made more general symbols of anxieties over climate change. “Kraken” applies this same idea to the very Norwegian landscape, of scenic fjords and fishing boats. 

This is also, you’ll notice, a similar plot point to “Jaws” and its ocean of imitators. Rather than have a mayor insisting that the Beaches Are Open, because the tourism industry will take a hit, you’ve got a fishing exec demanding progress be sped up to meet investor demands. This is only the most obvious cue “Kraken” takes from Hollywood blockbusters. The giant monster is proceeded by smaller parasites. They look a lot like the Facehuggers from “Alien.” They act a lot like them too, scurrying around through vents and leaping at people. They also spray caustic black slime, like the Dilophosaurus in “Jurassic Park.” The guy on the receiving end of that ooze is even a tubby technician. The general outline of “Kraken” is reminiscent of a dozen American disaster flicks and monster movies, of an ignored expert being forced to step in and save the day when ignorant capitalist set off a chain reaction of catastrophe. The characters – a rebellious daughter, a stoic ex-lover, a cocky police officer – are all stock part roles too. 

That is what truly keeps “Kraken” from pulling me in, that its cast and characters are never developed beyond familiar clichés. That’s a bummer, because the technical film-making is strong. The special effects are quite good, the enormous tentacles providing a proper sense of scale. The sequences in which the heroine has to crawl through vents while avoiding detection from the parasites are decently suspenseful. The movie is also gorier than I expected, showing us the mutilated remains of the monster’s victims closer than anticipated. The final act, in which we come face to face with the giant eye of the beast, naturally bring some Lovecraftian energy to the motion picture as well. All of this suggests that, with a more layered and unique script, “Kraken” probably could have been a scarier, deeper experience.

A faster pace would’ve helped too. The film is almost exactly ninety minutes long, which is economic by the measure of big budget blockbusters. Despite that, the C’thulhu headed horror doesn’t truly start to slither on-screen until about fifty minutes in. Those horseshoe crabs from hell almost play a bigger role than the marquee distraction. Still, Pål Øie and his team deserve some points. They took a project with a Syfy Channel Original set-up and turned it into something that, if dubbed into English, could play in American multiplexes without raising any eyebrows. Supposedly, the film’s primary financiers have invested big in A.I., causing some to wonder if such technology was used while making “Kraken.” I can certainly see that in the posters, at least. That shows that the money people making this movie did not learn from its moral. May their data centers melt glacial ice, unleashing a beast that crushes their offices. As for the movie, it’s pretty forgettable but I didn’t hate it. [6/10]

Pure Blood (1982)
Pura sangre

The first victim was discovered in November of 1963. Over the next six months, an additional thirteen bodies were uncovered. Most of them were boys. The majority had been assaulted, tortured, and had their hearts pierced with needles. All of them were discovered in unfinished lots and alley ways, referred to by locals as mangones. (Which literally translates to "pastures" but colloquially refers to an open, empty area.) Ultimately, over thirty deaths would be linked to the figure nicknamed the Monster of the Mangones. A perpetrator was never captured, with some speculating that these were unrelated homicides. Either way, it's the kind of macabre and disturbing case that can't help but fascinate. Documentary filmmaker Luis Ospina would be inspired by the case, combining it with the true story of Colombian businessman and coffee magnate Adolfo Aristizabal, to create the 1982 film "Pura sangre." While still fairly obscure on the international scene, subtitled copies do circulate online, giving me a chance to check out more of Columbia's often neglected contributions to the horror genre. 

Roberto Hurtado, an aging leader in the medical and sugar cane industries, has been diagnosed with a rare blood disease. The only thing that will keep him alive are daily, massive transfusions of blood. Specifically blood from young men or boys of a matching types. His son, Adolfo, runs the daily practices of the business while monitoring his father. By chance, he discovers that three of his employees – nurse Florencia, ambulance driver Perfecto, and morgue attendant Ever – have recently committed a grisly murder and assault, strictly for the thrill of it. Adolfo blackmails the trio into continuing this killing spree. As long as they target boys, drain the blood afterwards, and make sure it's transfused to his father. The trio go about their nightly activities, targeting social undesirables like gay men and the impoverished. Soon, reports of a serial killer known as the Monster of the Mangones begin to circulate among the grieving parents and press.

The observation that rich people are like vampires, draining the life blood from the lower class to prolong their unnatural existence, is not exactly novel. The correlation is right there in "Dracula." At times, that seems to be the only point "Pure Blood" has. The film is largely devoted to watching this trio of remorseless serial killers callously targeting their victims, intercut with scenes of the frail old man in his hospital bed and the daily routines of the family business. (Which includes haggling with, and intimidating, sugar cane labor unions.) However, an even darker point does eventually emerge. Roberto is a cadaverous old man. His daily treatments will not save his life, merely make it last a little longer. How does this supposed titan of industry spend the final days of his existence? He pervs on his nurse, watching her undress from secret monitors and telling her what to wear. He makes people read the newspaper to him. He dismisses actual news, caring only about the rise and fall of stocks and fortunes, which often seem to be meaningless metrics. He watches movies on VHS. He likes "Johnny Guitar" but hates "Citizen Kane," demanding his nurse no longer bring him black-and-white movies. I wonder why the story of a rich man who dies unhappy and unsatisfied might bother this guy?

All the while, Roberto is utterly unaware of the sordid activities being carried out to preserve his existence for a few more days. Of the lives lost and destroyed to make sure this sick old man doesn't die for another week. Yes, the rich are like vampires, figuratively and sometimes literally sucking the life force out of the poor to keep themselves alive. They are also entirely protected from the consequences of their actions, unaware of the suffering their trivial existence is responsible for. Roberto Hurtado probably wouldn't care about the kids who die to keep him going but he also doesn't even know, making this condition equally horrific and pathetic. 

The complete unawareness of the old man goes hand-in-hand with the utter callousness of the murderers. When cruising the street for victims, Perfecto points at one kid, who Ever dismisses for being black in as racist a fashion as possible. They hang out in a gay bar, luring in young guys with drugs, because they know that the deaths of gay men are less likely to be taken seriously by the police. After realizing that one of the children they've murdered is the wrong blood type, the trio simply dump the body out of their car and continue on. In addition to being a cold-hearted killer, Ever is also a necrophile, often assaulting the bodies of the victims after they are dead. As he leaves the evidence of such a vile crime behind him, Perfecto merely shrugs it off. That is a consistent quality about "Pure Blood." These killers tell jokes in-between homicides. A late scene depicts them going on a trip to the beach with their families. The only time they come close to being found, they defuse the situation by acting callously and whistling to themselves. That's shit out of a cartoon but why wouldn't it work, in fiction or real life? The way "Pure Blood" captures the disaffected, ruthless fashion of its serial killers is the most chilling thing about it. 

The millionaire motivating the crimes is ignorant. The killers doing the dirty work are heartless. The man in the middle, played by a perfectly deadpan Luis Alberto Garcia, treats it all as a mere business operation. Sugar cane futures, bargaining with union leaders, paying off ice cold psychopaths, it's all the same to this man. That angle informs all of "Pura sangre." Ospina's background in documentaries is apparent in the scenes devoting to showing life in the downtrodden parts of Cali. We see kids in thrown-together Halloween costumes partying and playing as the Advent holiday arrives. Moments like these are captured with the same matter-of-fact quality as watching people snort some cocaine or hang out in their apartment. This is backed by a droning electronic score that further surrounds us with a chilly, isolated atmosphere. Business, whether it be in blood or money, is equally detached from the human element. "Pura sangre" observes the lives of the lost innocents with an intimate, lived-in reality and the actions of the killers like a dispassionate god. 

The result is an unsettling film that is tricky to shake. I went into "Pure Blood" being told it was a dark comedy. I guess this is still true but any chuckles to be found here are more of the rueful, grim type than bemused. Most chilling of all is a final scene that implies all of this is set to begin again, the responsible party unlikely to face any consequences for their actions. There's little information on the English-speaking web about the film, the murders that inspired it, and any other links between these events and real people. What I have been able to find is contradictory and confused. To any Colombian readers better versed in the facts, I apologize for getting any details wrong. What I'm sure of is that "Pure Blood" lays it's thesis out, the social frame work that makes crimes such as these possible, with distressing preciseness. [8/10]

Amazing Stories: Welcome to My Nightmare

Having watched all of the “Psycho” movies earlier this month, now seemed like a good time to watch “Welcome to My Nightmare.” That’s the season two episode of “Amazing Stories” that is an extended homage to Hitchcock’s classic. Harry is a horror obsessed teenage boy and “Psycho” is his favorite. He sets his VHS player up so that the shrieking strings of the shower scene act as his alarm clock every morning. His fixation is such that it’s annoying his family. It’s also annoying Kate, the cute girl next door who inexplicably has a crush on Harry. She asks him to the dance and he fumbles it. Instead, he has a fight with his family and leaves for the movie theater. On his way there, he wishes that his life was more like a movie. This wish comes true but he doesn’t specify which movie. Harry is transported into “Psycho” in the role of Marion Crane, right before the shower scene.

“Welcome to My Nightmare” is the work of Todd Holland, who would go on to direct “The Wizard,” “Krippendorf’s Tribe,” and a bunch of television. He has no relation to Tom Holland, director of “Fright Night” and “Child’s Play,” who probably would’ve been a smarter choice to direct a horror centric episode like this. While it heavily references a terror classic, the tone here is of heavy-handed comedy and mawkish sentimentality. Harry’s family flatly lays out the themes of the episode, explaining that life isn’t a movie. That he needs to focus more on reality than what’s on the screen. His rejection of their suburban lifestyle is similarly broadly explained through dialogue. The episode’s plot literally depends on a shooting star, the kind of waxy whimsy that too often characterized this show. “Amazing Stories” really did feel like a bad imitation of Spielberg and not an actual Spielberg production a lot of the time, didn’t it?

The episode stars David Hollander as Harry, presenting the frightening possibility that someone with the last name of Hollandest is also involved in this production. His performance is broad and exaggerated. He makes stretched, mugging faces. His reaction to ending up inside “Psycho” is one of aghast shock, a note the actor and episode never stops hitting. He is also placed inside a dress, since he’s inhabiting the Janet Leigh role. You would think that a homage to “Psycho” that puts a man in drag would be commenting on the queerness of this source material in some way. No, it’s just a lame sight gag here. There’s no Hitchcockian subtly here, as the episode climaxes with a buffoonish ride down a carnival slide and an equally obvious homage to “It’s a Wonderful Life.” When you consider that the story involves a cute girl having a pre-established attraction to the awkward movie nerd, the whole half-hour feels like bad wish fulfillment. The zombies in one of the fantasy sequences are kind of cool but this one is pretty lame otherwise. [5/10] 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Brain Drain

If nothing else, the “Friday the 13th: The Series” writing team gets points for creativity with this one. The eighteenth episode’s Artifact of Doom is a trepanier. As in a device used for trepanning, the antiquated practice of punching holes in the skull to relieve internal pressure or let out evil spirits. The tool is in the possession of Dr. Pangborn, a scientist working to increase intelligence. His test subject is a simpleton named Harry. The trepanier allows Harry to absorb Pangborn’s smarts into his brain, at the result of leaving the doctor a drooling idiot. Now assuming the doctor’s identity, the villain uses the device to drain his colleague’s intelligence and download them into a gorilla’s brain. Working on the same project is Dr. Viola Rhodes, who happens to be Jack’s old flame. They nearly got married but it didn’t work out. With this mission bringing Jack into her presence, the two resume their relationship. Unfortunately, the brain sucking gizmo and the mad scientist using it endangers their renewed love affair. 

While “Friday the 13th: The Series” has hinted at Jack’s storied past many times, this is the first time it’s become a truly relevant plot point. Reliable character actress Carrie Snodgrass plays Vi and she has strong chemistry with Chris Wiggins. Sometimes simply getting two older performers together is enough to imbue a fictional interaction with some gravitas. Everyone has made mistakes, left somebody behind that they miss, wonder what their life might have been if things had worked out. Playing on that gives this episode way more pathos than your usual “Friday the 13th” episode. Naturally, this love affair is destined to end in tragedy. Seeing Jack get seriously pissed off at the villain of the week, violently seeking vengeance, provides some true novelty to this one. The note this one ends on is of resigned sadness, of regrets with no solution and once cherished memories that now only sting. As it too often goes in life.

Such a poignant subplot contrasts sharply against an otherwise typical episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” Denis Forest, who previously appeared in “Cupid’s Quiver,” inexplicably adopts a German accent upon becoming smarter. His invention features a brain floating in a tank of fluid, a microphone picking up its grumbling thoughts somehow. The climax of this episode is extremely silly, with a slow-motion scream and a close-up on a goofy facial expression. I admittedly don’t know much about trepanning but I don’t think it involved such an elaborate machine, with a swinging blade and tubes transporting spinal fluid. There is a decent suspense scene, in which Ryan and Micki are stalked through a storage room. Otherwise, the A-plot is typical ridiculous shenanigans, while Jack’s arc is much more moving. Makes for an odd back-and-forth but I'll still give this one an above-average grade. [7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 26th

Resident Evil (2026)

After the surprise critical and commercial success of "Barbarian," people were ready to declare former Whitest Kid U' Know Zach Cregger the next great horror director. I always have a "wait and see" attitude with these kinds of things. "Weapons" proved that Cregger is a distinctive voice in the genre, willing to tackle big ideas without sacrificing thrills and hollers. I was disappointed to hear that his next project would be an adaptation of a mega-popular, long-running video game series. "Resident Evil" has already spawned somewhere between seven and twelve feature films. There had already been a new movie and streaming series, after Paul W.S. Anderson and Milla Jovovich moved on to ruin another Capcom video game, and the response was unenthusiastic. Were we losing a bold new voice in the genre to the franchise machine? Or was this an example of an auteur leaping onto a familiar property because he was genuinely a huge fan? Well, the movie is out now so it is time to decide. 

Bryan is a simple medical courier. He makes one more delivery for the night before heading home to his newly pregnant girlfriend, the two uncertain about whether to keep the fetus. While at the hospital, he's asked to take on another rush delivery. He's promised a bonus to deliver an insulated package to Raccoon City General Hospital. It's snowing and the roads are perilous but he takes on the mission anyway. While driving the back roads, a strange woman walks in front of his car and is struck. This is the first sign that something crazy is going on. Bryan has unwittingly been chosen to deliver part of an anti-virus that can stop an unleashed bio-weapon in the process of ravaging the world. 

When the first trailer for Cregger's "Resident Evil" came out, and fans didn't see Jill Valentine tank-controlling through Spencer Mansion, there was some outcry. Indeed, Cregger's film is not an adaptation of any of the games and features none of the franchise's reoccurring characters. While a Rebecca Chambers cameo would've been nice, this approach allows for something clever. Cregger is more interested in adapting the experience of playing a "Resident Evil" game than any specific plot. Our protagonist is exploring environments he's unfamiliar with, with no idea what kind of threat might be around the next corner. When Bryan gets a hold of a firearm, he must carefully conserve ammunition. His journey is repeatedly thwarted by padlocks he doesn't have keys for. The focus is on what choices he'll make with the resources available to him in risky situations. We see evidence of past events that had happened in these locations, hints at other stories playing out in this world, but that's not the tale this "Resident Evil" is telling. As in most games, we are stuck with this guy, on this adventure, as he tries to survive it. 

It's an interesting approach to a big problem often facing video game movies. Namely, the vastly different pacing needs of each medium. Cinema is telling you a story, while gaming is about you enacting that story or experience. Most games keep things novel and challenging by throwing new enemies or puzzles at the player, the kind of perpetual escalation that film can't usually support. By attaching solely to one guy's trek, Cregger hopes to emulate that structure while still making "Resident Evil" feel like a movie. Bryan is repeatedly running through new areas with obstacles unique to them. The longer "Resident Evil" goes on, the more this approach strains. He crawls down into a sewer and sees some freaky shit about to attack him. A run through a city street is hastened by zombies falling from the rooftops. By the time he's clinging onto an elevator slowly being chipped away by acid from overhead, "Resident Evil's" attempt to latch a video game's framework to the flow of a motion picture is clearly favoring one style over the other. 

You never want your movie to feel like a YouTube play through video. Cregger's film comes dangerously close to that territory at times. However, if this "Resident Evil" is mostly just one set piece after another, it must be said that they are good set pieces. The film is successful at deploying a new bit of freaky body horror in such a way as to shock, surprise, and freak out the viewer. Another element taken right from the games is the hero perpetually being pursued by the same unstoppable monster throughout: A tentacled parasite always adding more victims to a Katamari Damacy of flailing limbs. This keeps tension up throughout, balancing a fear of what's coming up behind you with what you might face ahead. That's best shown during a fabulous freak show in a hospital maternity ward and a sequence where Bryan must choose between an incoming horde of zombies and an extremely perilous bridge. "Resident Evil" takes the tricks from the games and applies them to the task of making a scary monster movie. It's mostly pretty successful. 

Cregger's film is often cheeky about what it's doing. There's a few shots clearly emulating the perspective of a first-person shooter. The script outright acknowledges that real life doesn't work like a video game. The film definitely seems to be asking us what we would do in these situations – the best of which involves a dismembered torso being dragged further into the darkness – if the controller was in our hands. That question of "How would you do it?" is furthered by the film's hero not being a highly trained special agent or super-powered zombie killer. Instead, Bryan is just a guy, pasty and stubbly and in way over his head. He has no expertise with guns, a good running joke. His only extraordinary quality is his sheer determination to keep moving forward, of staying focused on that mission of delivering this package. Star Zach Cherry doesn't play this as indomitable courage. Instead, it feels a bit like Bryan is too stupid to know that he doesn't have to run towards danger. It's a funny way to approach your horror movie hero, someone so laser focused on simply doing their job that they accidentally become brave. I guess this kid really needs that extra paycheck. Don't we all? 

An emotional through line focusing more on how we're all trapped in the hellscape of late stage capitalism would probably be more involving than the standard subplot about Bryan's girlfriend and possible future child. Every scene devoted to that truly feels like the movie stopping to say "This is a poignant, thematically relevant moment." "Barbarian" and "Weapons" had a similar bluntness about their ideas, so I suppose this is a trademark of Cregger's. His "Resident Evil" doesn't always nail its goal of blending a video game's anatomy with a film's direction. It is still a fun time at the movies. The lead is likable. The thrills hit. The monsters are freaky. There's a bunch of blood, slime, gunk, and grime. The ending is surprising. I would call that a success. [7/10]

Shake, Rattle & Roll (1984)

If you were to perform an internet search for the horror film series with the most installments – or, god forbid, ask an LLM – the answer you’d get would probably be wrong. Seventeen “Witchcraft” movies and fifteen or so “Puppet Master” films are certainly achievements of some sort. If one were to tally up all the movies with “Amityville” in the title, which I hesitate to call a “series” exactly, the number would surely be staggering. Such view points are distressingly English language centric, however. A look to Asia reveals several fear franchises that dwarf most American long-runners. A 1997 Hong Kong film called “Troublesome Night” has spawned 19 sequels. Another contender is “Shake, Rattle & Roll.” That is a Filipino anthology series that began in 1984, with the seventeenth and most recent installment having been released just last year. The stories are often inspired by the Philippines’ rich local folklore, with new installments usually coming around Christmas time. It would seem trying to run the entire series every December is an annual tradition among Pinoy horror fans. While the films remain frustratingly unavailable in my corner of the world, I was able to find a copy of the original with English subtitles.

“Shake, Rattle & Roll” begin with “Baso.” Paolo, his partner Girlie, and their mutual friend Johnny gather in a spooky old house to play Spirit of the Glass. That’s an Ouija-like game of divination performed with a scroll of paper and a drinking glass. They unwittingly summon the restless spirits of three people, trapped in a love triangle, who died during the Spanish colonial era. In “Pridyider,” Lorna and her daughter Virgie move into a home that includes a fancy new refrigerator. Maid Nelia is seemingly crushed to death by the refrigerator's door. This is the first of several bizarre incidents involving the appliance. “Manananggal” is about Douglas, a lad living with his grandmother and younger brothers in the Visayan jungles. He is attempting to court Anita, despite his granny’s warnings that she’s a manananggal. Upon seeing Anita separate her upper body from her waist and flying through the night with bat wings, he realizes that this is true.

Of the three stories presented here, “Baso” is both the most traditional and the driest. Young people sneaking into an old dark house to perform a ghostly ritual is about as classical a horror set-up as possible. The darkly lit scenes of the glass slowly spelling out names is well-done. Unfortunately, after that, the segment launches into a long flashback that explains the backstory of the spectral love triangles. The period costumes and details are decently assembled but it still feels more like a historical soap opera than a horror movie. The eventual shift back to the gruesome stuff is hampered a bit by some unconvincing make-up effects. There is still a shock ending of sorts, though the episode concludes so abruptly afterwards that I’m not sure it sinks in exactly. Director Emmanuel H. Borlaza is best known for a romantic fantasy about a mermaid, which might explain why this first story seems to shy away from horror at times. 

The second episode has to overcome what is a silly premise on its face. Refrigerators are not especially mobile devices, nor do they present many options as a murder weapon. “Pridyider” seems somewhat aware of this and attempts to derive horror from visions of dismembered body parts around the fridge instead. Once again, the effects are a bit rubbery, which does little to dispel the notion of goofiness around this one. However, director Ishmael Bernal and cinematographer Ely R. Cruz take the material seriously. “Pridyider” is shot with a patient, quiet intimacy and eroticism, as if the heat coming off the vents of the fridge is making everyone around it hot. When the absurd finale arrives, in which the household appliance seems to develop a sense of lust, it actually feels like a logical extension of the segment’s style up to that point. It makes for an unexpectedly intense finale, despite how difficult it is to take the premise seriously. 

The “Manananggal” sequence is a straight-ahead monster movie and effectively so. There’s a thread of quiet absurdity here too. The events take place during Holy Week, Douglas being accosted by several guys dressed for a passion play. Otherwise, director Peque Gallaga mostly plays the folk tale straight. In its human form, the manananggal is an alluring, exotic presence. The only way to destroy it is to salt and bless the lower half of the body as the vampiric half flies into the night. The first crow of the cock at dawn draws the monster back to its source. The isolation of the jungle setting creates a nicely eerie mood, further emphasized by the shadowy visuals. The segment becomes a siege story in the second half, the family attempting to prevent the winged creature from breaking through the thin walls of their hut. Unlike the other parts of “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” “Manananggal” smartly shoots around the film’s limited budget. There’s only one shot of the titular monster taking flight, conveyed through some awkward animation. Otherwise, the scenes are carefully framed to obscure the lower half of the segmented beast. This surprisingly does little to decrease its threat value. “Manananggal” is a fairly potent mini-monster movie.  

The main reason I’ve decided to seek out international horror movies is to expose myself to other cultures. As horror often does, “Shake, Rattle & Roll” is obviously reflecting the social mores of the country that birthed it. “Baso” is a story about how violence and class separation are reoccurring patterns throughout Filipino history, as it is in history everywhere. “Pridyider” seems especially focused on the plight of young women, at the mercy of predatory men. The possessed fridge seems to act on the most violent impulses of the perverted groundskeeper or Virgie’s handsy boyfriend. Director Bernal seems mostly known for his social dramas, often focused on the struggles of women in Manila, making this angle unsurprising. While “Mananangal” is largely a straight-ahead adaptation of the folklore that birthed it, it’s speaking to social issues as well. Douglas and his family are practicing Christians, often praying to a small religious alter. The eponymous monster is a symbol of native paganism, linked to lust and mystery. This makes the story an encapsulation of the conflict between the Philippines’ extremely Christian modern existence and its still lingering shamanistic roots.

Out of the three directors who worked on this first “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” Gallaga is also the only one who would extensively return to horror later in his career. He contributed segments to the next three entries in the series and made a few other monster movies, also inspired by the Philippines’ rich history of legendary creatures. (Though he worked in a variety of genres, including historical war epic, erotica, and light-hearted fantasy.) In other words, “Shake, Rattle & Roll” is both extremely Filipino and fairly entertaining in its own right. The most restored edition of the film still has some visually degraded moments and the ending of “Pridyider” is lost, making that segment’s conclusion very abrupt as well. While campy and goofy at times, the presentation won me over long before the end. I don’t know if that’s enough to build sixteen sequels on but I liked it. By the way, as far as I can tell, the actual answer to the question of which horror franchise has the most installments is “Honto ni Atta! Noroi No Video.” That’s a direct-to-video Japanese series, compilations of spooky footage, with somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 installments. “Shake, Rattle & Roll” isn’t that populous but I did have a good time with it. I guess, if I keep doing a global theme for my Halloween marathons, I’ve got a Filipino pick settled for the next sixteen years… [7/10]

The Twilight Zone (1985): The Toys of Caliban

Before "A Song of Ice and Fire" made him a literary superstar, George R.R. Martin was a humble science fiction and horror writer, struggling to make a living. After one of his earlier novellas received a low budget adaptation, Martin found a contact with the film world. That's how he got a regular gig writing for the 1985 revival of "The Twilight Zone." He provided teleplays for five episodes, mostly in the second season, and the best regarded of the lot seems to be "Toys of Caliban." It concerns Toby Ross, a boy with a developmental disability. He is seemingly in his late teens but with the mentality of a toddler. His elderly parents, Ernie and Mary, isolate the boy from the world within their apartment full of toys. This is because Toby has the ability to "bring" – physically manifest – any object he sees in a photograph into the home. Any attempt by Toby to manifest living creatures only results in corpses appearing. His parents are fearful of what his powers could do with any more exposure. After "bringing" too many donuts one night and getting a serious tummy ache, Toby's parents are forced to take him to the emergency room. The boy is fine but he catches the attention of a Child Protective Services agent who believes Toby is being abused. This brief glimpse of the outside world has tragic consequences for the family. 

Once again, this autistic adult is forced to tango with one of my least favorite writing tropes, the inelegantly named "Magical Disabled Person." I would prefer to use another word for it but understand that some are offended by the term, even if I'm not. This episode is not so generous and refers to Toby as a word that rhymes with leotard several times. Yes, "Toys of Caliban" is another offering that portrays neurodivergent individuals in a patronizing, dehumanizing manner. Toby's parents are depicted as the ones who are suffering, while their overgrown infant of a son lives in a world of blissful ignorance. He is so dangerous that they have no recourse but to lock him away forever. Alexandre Borrie's CPS agent points out that resources and classes the elderly Rosses might be unfamiliar with are available to help their son. Toby's dad knows better and insists the kid stay in a windowless home forever. This is still not enough to protect the family and the final scene of "Toys of Caliban" offers a frankly offensive solution. The poor, pathetic simpleton, the only way out for them and their beleaguered N.T. sires is to put them all down like a sick dog. (The penultimate scene has the dad rubbing Toby's head as he kneels at his feet and calling him a "good boy," making the dog comparison fairly literal.) 

The resulting episode is often cringe-inducing. David Greenlee's blubbering performance as Toby reaches "Simple Jack" levels immediately. I'm pretty sure his jubilant but agonized cries of his own name must have been an inspiration for "South Park's" Timmy. It's difficult to look at "Toys of Caliban" as anything but an embarrassing misfire from another era, using the difficulties functional human beings live with because their brain chemistry or bodies are a little different from the majority as nothing but a gimmick to lure tears out of weepy viewers. And it's a bummer too, because I think this episode could've worked without making Toby a regressive stereotype. One of the most famous episodes of the original "Twilight Zone" features a youngster with unfathomable psychic powers and it accurately observes that a regular kid is scary enough without making them "special." 

Richard Mulligan gives a good performance as an exhausted, heart-broken father and Anne Haney has a sad fragility about her as the mother. (Even if her big monologue essentially boils down to, once again, how hard Toby's condition is on his parents.) There's two decent shocks in this episode, when Toby's literalness results in him teleporting two bits of fleshy horror into the home. However, , it's difficult to regard "Toys of Caliban" with anything but aghast grimaces and bemused bafflement that such a hilariously insensitive portrayal was ever acceptable. I don't hold it against George R.R. Martin though. All writers gotta eat, even if it means turning someone else's horrible story into a coherent screenplay. [3/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Electrocutioner

The seventeenth episode of "Friday the 13th: The Series" does not feature a C-list Batman villain. Instead, it's an entry into the eighties' most minor of horror trends: Stories about murderers who return from a sit in the electric chair to kill again, sometimes with electricity-themed superpowers. The condemned is Eli Pittman, a dental student wrongfully convicted of murdering his girlfriend in 1978. Despite getting two jolts in Ol' Sparky, Pittman survives. Since you can't legally execute someone for the same crime twice, he is set free apparently. (I'm not a lawyer but wouldn't they be able to further detain him for the standing murder conviction?) A decade later, Pittman has reinvented himself as a dentist in a halfway house for troubled teens. He's held onto the electric chair intended to kill him, actually one of Lewis Vendredi's cursed artifacts. Now, Pittman shocks orphaned teens no one will miss in the chair and, in return, gets electric shock powers. He's using those to seek vengeance on all who convicted him. Micki, Ryan, and Jack are on the case. 

"The Electrocutioner" was written and directed by Rob Hedden. Presumably, it was this episode that convinced Frank Mancuso Jr. that Hedden was the right man to make "Friday the 13th Part VIII." "Jason Takes Manhattan" is probably my least favorite film in the series and it's largely because of the  melodramatic direction, childish screenplay, and a tone indecisively placed between self-aware camp and ostensibly a serious attempt at horror. All of these flaws are apparent here. The episode starts with a fairly well done flashback to Pittman's execution, which is shot in grainy black-and-white and features some stylized camera angles. However, as the execution attempt begins, Pittman screams towards the heavens. This is the first of many very silly touches in the episode. Any time Pittman plots his revenge, we return to that flashback, now presented as everyone pointing and laughing at him. One shot has his screaming face superimposed on the image, a very cheesy looking choice. All of the murder scenes are made laughable because the actors playing the victims make goofy faces as they contort around. There's also an inexplicable jump scare involving a plume of steam shooting out of a wall, a gag I'm pretty sure Hedden repeated in his Jason movie. 

This approach, either deeply un-serious or miscalculated, is evident in Hedden's script too. The story bends in some odd directions. Every time Pittman kills a runaway teen in his chair, they are reduced to a pile of steaming clothes. That's weird. Why does that happen? Later, Jack hunts the killer down by magnifying a needle and making a compass with it, to track Pittman's electric charge. Was this Mr. Wizard moment truly the smoothest way to get to that plot point? In general, the central trio act rather broad in this episode. Ryan is introduced playing with a glow orb while listening to shitty rock music, a story beat that comes back around for a lame joke in the last scene. Micki is treated like a genius fir suggesting that more people were responsible for an execution order than those simply shown in a photograph. 

The half-assed, senseless quality to the writing is most clearly seen in the villain. Angelo Rizacos plays the dentist-turned-electrocutioner and it's a hammy performance. He looks like "Weird" Al and generally acts like a nerd, which is not the most intimidating of choices. Mostly, I'm baffled by the decision to make the villain both wrongfully convicted and a remorseless killer. The way he callously kills random teenagers is obviously a writing choice to void any sympathy the audience might feel towards him. I guess Pittman was only pissed because he was charged with a crime he didn't do, not by the concept of murder itself. Those visions of being laughed at and persecuted are clearly designed to make him look unhinged. I get why he would be pissed but, also, he survived execution and was let go. He even got superpowers out of the deal! Kind of makes you wonder what is driving his need for vengeance. Is the implication that the cursed electric chair – which he makes no attempt to disguise as his dental chair, something you'd think his regular clients would comment on – has driven him mad? But it's not like he was willingly placed in the chair in the first place either. I did like the ironic, final fate of the villain. Hedden does have one or two interesting ideas but this episode is, overall, very silly and juvenile. I'm going to presume that it was not Hedden's creative skills that impressed Mancuso but some quality – his ability to shoot fast and cheap? His personality? His soft and moist lips? – not apparent in that episode itself that got him the feature gig. [4/10]

Halloween 2026: September 25th

Insidious: Out of the Further (2026)

Maybe it’s simply the long Covid talking but “Insidious” feels like a horror series from another time. It has been about fifteen years since the original one came out and the world has changed so much since then. Horror films about ghosts or demons with vague, one-word, descriptive titles feel like a relic of The Before Times. In spite of that, the series remains a very serious on-going concern for Blumhouse Productions. The fifth installment made enough money that a spin-off film and a live theatrical experience were both announced. Well, that spin-off movie still hasn’t materialized and the live show was canceled after a few performances. However, this summer still saw the release of a new main entry in the “Insidious” series. Subtitled “Out of the Further,” it was written and directed by Jacob Chase, director of the second or third saddest thing Gillian Jacobs has been in since “Community” got canceled. 

As a child, Gemma Hall lived with her mother as she slowly went insane before witnessing her commit suicide via repeated facial trauma to a wall. As an adult, she has tried to put this behind her. She’s a successful dental hygienist, has a steady boyfriend, and is very close to her daughter, Maya. The two currently live in the same home Gemma grew up in. Three strange residents move into the house across the street, after which Gemma begins to have strange visions. She is attacked by ghostly spectres in a misty netherworld. Yes, Gemma is actually astral projecting into the Further, a fact confirmed by the spirit of medium Elise Rainer. Elise informs Gemma that she has the ability to transport objects and souls from the Further into the physical world. That this skill has made her the target of a cult based in the Further, whose leader promises to resurrect the undead spirits and who are supported by living acolytes in the waking world.

When I watched all the “Insidious” movies as part of my James Wan retrospective a while back, I repeatedly called the franchise’s mythos silly and/or stupid. Save for a supporting role for Lin Shaye’s dead-but-still-kickin’ character, “Out of the Further” is a stand-alone story built entirely upon the series’ established lore. Which is to say it is extremely silly and stupid. There's one or two interesting ideas here. The concept of living people accessing the Further via sedatives had potential. Elise communicating with the living world through a medium, a punky tattoo artist played by Maisie Richardson-Sellers, isn't the worst way to keep that character in the story. However, the more "Out of the Further" reveals about its story, the more convoluted it starts to feel. The idea of a cult made up of ghosts, residing on this astral plain, or being able to manifest things from the spiritual to physical realms strike me as desperate and somewhat confusing attempts to add more novelty to this universe. "Insidious" has always been somewhat vague concerning the rules governing its ghostly realm and these new additions only muddy the waters further. Of course, the last act focuses largely on these narrative devices, dispelling any spiritual connotations in favor entirely of brute force, comic book-style plotting. 

While I've always found "Insidious'" New Age spiritualism influenced backstory to be incredibly doofy, that's not the main reason "Out of the Further" is a tedious viewing experience. Past entries mixed in a little body horror with lots of jump scares and more atmospheric elements. The sixth installment focuses almost entirely on gross-out tactics. In particular, the film seems especially appalled by the bodies of the aging. The half-living Acolytes have deep eye sockets, patchy hair, yellowish skin, and hollow, soulless stares. If the viewer didn't get that we are meant to find the mere sight of old people gross, the sequel includes a mouthful of slimy, rotten teeth and a pile of used diapers. Desperate attempts at gross-out are all throughout the film. One of the reoccurring ghouls wears a permanent mouth depresser and is always leaking green slime. Another, laughably silly sequence features a whole horde of sickly, twitchy spirits. Including guys whose sole purpose is to lick dirty dishes or eat rats. "Out of the Further" has plenty of the series' trademark loud shrieks. They are usually paired with this juvenile ickiness or goofy touches. Such as a second pair of teeth exploding through an old man's rotten maulers or a chase scene through a tunnel of couch cushions. 

It all suggests that the creative forces behind the "Insidious" series have exhausted all other avenues of getting squeals out of audiences. The film sticks most of the franchise's star ghouls into brief cameos and instead brings back minor spookies for larger roles. I suppose giving the Doll Girl and other returning ghosts expanded presences was an attempt to get hoots out of hardcore "Insidious" fans. Assuming such a thing exists. Speaking for myself, I had forgotten about most of these guys. The new additions to the franchise's litany of horrors are deeply uninspired. The sequel bets big on "Carnival of Souls" style pasty faced ghouls, who sometimes burst through walls like zombies in a Romero film. Ghost Dentist or Little Girl with a Box Full of Teeth seem unlikely to become Halloween costumes or action figures to me. The main villain here is that ghostly cult leader. He is played by Sam Spruell in a bathrobe, face bandages, and a pointy finger accessory presumably purchased from Hot Topic. The greasy long hair and Mall Goth aesthetic once again strike me as lame holdovers from the era when people thought Marilyn Manson was actually scary. While Spruell has occasionally been compelling in his various bad guy roles, his work here is forgettable. 

Aside from miscalculated spectral villains and an insistence that the Further is a cool name for a ghostly realm, the main thing uniting the "Insidious" films has been a focus on generational trauma and parental anxieties. "Out of the Further" does carry on this thematic thread. Gemma was thoroughly traumatized by her mother's lunacy and suicide. As her own haunting grows more severe, she finds herself repeating a lot of the same mistakes with her own daughter, like sleeping in too late or lashing out at the kid. The threat of turning into our abusive or neglectful parents, no matter how hard we try to do better, is a potent one. However, "Out of the Further" mostly sidelines it for the goofier ghost shenanigans. The idea that some curses are hereditary crops up again before the end but solely as a plot device, not as a meaningful statement. Amelia Eve isn't a bad lead. She has a certain wide-eyed vulnerability and a can-do spunkiness. I like the rapport she has with Island Austin as the daughter. The script simply doesn't give her much else to dig into. 

As someone always more tolerant than appreciative of the "Insidious" series, I suppose it's unsurprising that "Out of the Further" left me feeling bored and slightly irritated. I don't know if fans of these movies liked this one or not but the impression I got is that this shit is seriously played out. "Out of the Further" is too enamored with the superpowers and mystical layers of its universe and too devoid of effective or interesting scares. I feel like the sequel came and went from theaters without making any impact but has still grossed 169 million dollars so far, against a 18 million dollar budget. Which presumably means Blumhouse will go further into the Further in the near future. Part six is lame enough that I'm probably done with these movies, unless Jason Blum finally gets off his ass and makes that promised crossover with "Sinister." Those movies suck too but the pulpy allure of mashing two unrelated fright flicks together is sadly irresistible to me. [3/10]

The Island (1980)

Before “Jaws” redefined what a cinematic blockbuster was, it was a best-selling book. This must have been tricky for its author, former journalist and Johnson administration speech writer Peter Benchley. He spent the rest of his career in the shadow of “Jaws.” He felt so much guilt over contributing to the perception of sharks as ultra-dangerous killing machines that he became an active conservationist for the animal. Also, he wrote several other maritime themed thrillers, with simple titles that would look good embossed on a hardback cover. None of which proved as successful as his debut novel. Hollywood still tried to turn Benchley into a successful brand name. “The Deep,” mostly based on the strengths of Jacqueline Bisset in a wet t-shirt, was also a hit. This convinced the “Jaws” producers to buy the movie rights to Benchley’s third novel, “The Island,” before it was published. The movie made from that book was such a box office flop, that all future Benchley adaptations went straight-to-TV. Michael Caine, who was happy to joke about his other Benchley-adjacent oceanic floater, was so ashamed of the movie that he refused to discuss it. Despite that reputation, the film has a small cult following. “The Island” was also largely shot on the island of Antigua. Considering the Caribbean nation it forms with neighboring Barbuda has few cinematic offerings of its own, that’s close enough for me to count it for 2026’s Horror Around the World journey.

Journalist Blair Maynard wants to investigate the disappearances in the Bermuda Triangle. He convinces his editor to pay for a trip to Florida. His gun-obsessed pre-teen son tags along out of necessity. After their plane into the Caribbean crashes, father and son are stranded on an obscure island. They go for a fishing trip to pass the time, during which the two are abducted by pirates. These buccaneers are descendants of 17th century privateers. They’ve lived in their own bizarre island society for three hundred years, being responsible for a number of the disappearances in the area. Recently, they’ve begun stealing the children off the boats they pillage, to grow their culture. Justin is their next adoptee into the pirate lifestyle. Blair is kept alive because the sole woman on the island chooses him as her mate. Now, he must escape the plunderers and stop his son from being indoctrinated into their violent ways.

Probably owning to their status as a common Halloween costume, my brain has always sorted pirates alongside other classic horror tropes. I don’t know if anyone else does that but nomadic sea bandits were a common feature in classic gothic literature. Either way, “The Island” does make a decent case for the corsair as a movie monster. The film introduces its villains by having them gorily killing a tourist with an axe. Their next appearance features a flaming head-dress, the sort of thing Blackbeard supposedly did. Certainly a striking and shocking thing to see at any place besides an Arthur Brown concert or Burning Man. All of the following raids are equally violent, with lots of slashed throats. Most pirate movies focus more on high adventure on the high seas. This is weirdly the tone taken by Ennio Morricone’s nostalgic score. However, being attacked while at sea by blood-thirsty bandits would be pretty scary, which is what “The Island” emphasizes to decent effect. 

Unlike vampires and Frankensteins, pirates were and are real things. You probably aren’t going to see too many Captain Hooks or Long John Silvers in international waters, today or circa 1980. To get around that, Benchley’s novel and screenplay introduces the improbable plot device of an isolated colony of Napoleonic freebooters hiding in the Bermuda Triangle in the late 20th century. The story only passingly acknowledges that inbreeding would become a major problem for such a small, concentrated population. The pirates also still mostly use swords, cannon balls, and blunderbuss, despite the film making it clear that they would encounter modern technology on their raids. Despite the silliness of all this, there is a fun idea here. The pirates speak in their own pidgin English, with clipped sentences and weird slang of their own invention. Their culture is replete with strange customs, ruled by obscure and insular rules. If you kill a man, you must take care of his wife. For an abducted child to fully become part of the tribe, he must kill his own dad. There are fleeting references to sea-faring lore, which adds a neat depth to the whole thing. When combined with some above-average costume design, it convincingly creates its own reality. Being an outsider in this world is interesting and some of its features – such as a punishment in which a jellyfish’s tendrils are dragged along an exposed body – are quite memorable.  

This means “The Island” has some cool ideas and decently assembled sequences, despite the obvious gaps in logic. Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t entirely work. The pacing is sluggish, especially during the long middle section once the characters arrive at the titular location. The film also takes far too many additional paths on its way to its central point. Did we need that stop-over on another isolated island before the pirates grab Blair and his kid? In general, “The Island” does not have the most likable main character. Michael Caine plays Blair as a prickly and stand-off-ish guy that isn’t easily liked. The focus on his relationship with the woman that adopts him and his repeated escape attempts never quite take off. Caine is an appealing performer, his established screen persona already straddling the line between egg-headed intellectual and British gangster. He can’t make the former likable with such a thin script. 

This is part of an intended theme about masculinity. Justin clearly does not respect his dad, constantly belittling him with smart-ass comments. When the two visit a gun shop, the kid is very excited and knowledgeable about the fire arms. His father, despite being a Korean War vet, does not seem to be a fan. Obviously, the idea is that Blair is a stuffy intellectual, disconnected from real manhood. This is ostensibly why the boy ends up seemingly embracing the pirate life style, as the bloody bandits are more traditionally masculine. David Warner plays the leader of the buccaneers, his presence recalling “Straw Dogs.” “The Island” has a similarly regressive message about masculinity, the boy accepting his actual father figure only after he embraces violence. Ostensibly, I guess the message is that Blair proves his bravery and that is what impresses the boy. In effect, it looks like Michael Caine gets behind a machine gun like Stallone in the climax of “Rambo IV,” and the kid’s feeling about his dad immediately changes. Now, I’m a fan of a hyper-violent, shoot-em-up ending and eighties movies with questionable stances on what constitutes a “real man.” The film still does not earn the sentimentality of that ending.

If “The Island” had focused solely on the weirdo pirate culture and those bloody scenes of stalking and murder, I would be able to get behind it as an overlooked gem of eighties horror. Instead, a shaky screenplay and some sluggish pacing sinks this one. Director Michael Ritchie was mostly known for sports movies, serious and comedic, before this. He would have more success in the eighties with personality-driven action/comedies, further suggesting that this project was an odd fit for him. You do see lots of the beautiful Caribbean islands and seas though. I also don’t know why Michael Caine is so embarrassed by this one, which definitely isn’t worst than “Jaws: The Revenge,” if maybe not as funny. [6/10]

Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1985): The Specialty of the House

Since most of the eighties "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" episodes are remakes, what truly attracts me to an installment is the cast. Oh, John Saxon as a bitchy food critic? I'll roll the dice on that. Garth December is the prestigious restaurant reviewer at a high-profile publication, known for his biting words and brutal critiques. He visits Hart of the South, a fancy dining establishment run by a Southern belle named Betty Jo, where the menu of every evening is chosen by the chef. Garth is served a delicious but mysterious dish named lamb fritters. December is complying a book of trademark recipes from different restaurants and asks for how these lamb fritters are prepared. Betty Jo refuses to reveal the secret family recipes. Offers of cash do not sway her and Garth cannot replicate the meal at home. He then goes into vindictive mode, writing highly negative reviews of the establishment, hiring actors to feign sickness outside of the building, and doing what he can to sink Betty Jo's career. That's until she personally invites him into her kitchen...

Here's another episode of an anthology show where the twist ending is made far more predictable by the expectations of a twist. Any time there's a secret ingredient to a recipe that the cook emphatically refuses to disclose, it's easy to presume the morbid reveal. Having said that, "Specialty of the House" is indeed worth watching for John Saxon at his campiest. Wearing a succession of hideous pinstripe suits, he cuts down every one around him with brutal observations. This adds a light-hearted but critical tone to this one. Clearly, this is a story of a fabulously cunty jerk going about his obnoxious paths, on the way to a suitably ironic punishment. Of course, watching John Saxon being an asshole is highly entertaining and makes this a breezy half-hour.

There's a definite layer of class conflict here. The snooty, upper-crust douchebaggery of Garth December is obviously representative of a snobbish ruling class. Betty Jo's lower class roots are evident from her heavy southern accent. Operating a restaurant is one of the few ways poorer or blue collar folks can make the leap into a higher tax bracket. Betty Jo has successfully reached this level but stuffy gatekeepers like December still refuse to accept her unless she plays by their rules. That makes the gruesome ending, which thoroughly pushes this story into the realm of horror, all more meaningful. In other words: Eat the rich. This one is based on a short story by Stanley Ellin, also adopted as an episode of Vincent Price's radio show. I'll have to listen to that too. [7/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Tattoo

As evident by the specific chiming quality of the background music and the presence of special guest star Keye Luke, "Tattoo" is "Friday the 13th: The Series'" token Mysteries of the Orient episode. Naturally, that means it's set in that corner of every major city in North America known as "Chinatown." Tommy Chen longs to be a hot-shot gambler but his luck is rotten. This means he owes a lot of money to intimidating crime boss-type Frankie Wong. His sordid lifestyle is considered shameful by his grandfather but his cousin, Linda, is a little more sympathetic. Tommy's luck starts to change after he stumbles upon this week's Cursed Artifact: Magical tattoo needles that fatally brings to life the design etched on to someone's skin, bringing the tattooer unbeatable luck. (And also passable tattooing artistry, I guess.) Mr. Chen reaches out to Jack, Micki, and Ryan who quickly set off to grab the needles before Tommy's avarice leads him to kill again. 

Orientalist stereotypes have been especially tricky to dispel in pop culture. "Tattoo" certainly makes no attempt to do so. Grandpa Chen runs an Herbal Medicine shop. He speaks frequently of honor and how Tommy's pursuit of money brings shame on the family. Dragon sculptures appear in passing. One of the random tough guys Ryan encounters knows martial arts. Among Tommy's victims is a nameless woman in a Qipao and smoking an opium pipe. The climatic bet Tommy takes is a game of Russian Roulette, fixated in pop culture as a Vietnamese thing after "The Deer Hunter." While tattoos are now a common sight anywhere, that focus too has a tinge of exoticism to it. Chinatown is depicted as an urban area infested with organized crime, violence, drugs, and back alley businesses. Three of the endangered people in this episode are also women in bondage, a ubiquitous trope that nevertheless takes on a salacious quality in this setting. The show never says the women are sex workers but it kind of feels implied, ya know? 

We have to acknowledge such stereotypes as harmful and regressive. To not do so makes them seem acceptable, when they are not. Much like I did when reviewing "Mask of Fu Manchu" earlier in the season, I must also confess that "Tattoo" is a pretty good episode otherwise. It's tighter paced than most "Friday the 13th: The Series" installments. It feels like Jack, Ryan, and Micki are on the move the entire time in this one. Perhaps it's the inherent tension in any sort of gambling that gives Tommy's killing spree and all related activities a bit more suspense. The climax ramps up nicely as it cuts between that game of Russian Roulette and Jack's attempts to save Linda Chen from a deadly snake. (Or a "deadly" snake, as the zoology nerd in me immediately checked if red-touched-yellow or red-touched-black on the reptile's skin and guess which one it was?) This is not the first time I've seen deadly tattoo art on a show like this but it's a cool gimmick. My favorite example is probably the tat of a monstrous hand that then sprouts from the guy's chest and strangles him to death. 

As questionable as the role's racial connotations are, the guest cast is very good here. Especially after the very unsympathetic portrayal of the previous episode's antagonist, I like how we at least understand where Tommy is coming from. His cousin Linda's drive to try and protect him adds a little more drama to the plot, most notably to the inevitable moment where Tommy tattoos her. That also dovetails with Micki and Ryan's status as family, which is played up over their usual flirtatious dynamic. There's no doubt that Keye Luke was gifted at bringing actual gravitas to parts like this. I like the interaction he has with Jack at the end, the two men treating each other as equal masters of eccentric arts. Once again, I must concede that this is "solid entertainment if you ignore the racism." Also, this is another episode with an annoying-to-Google name. The keywords "friday the 13th tattoo" mostly returns articles about the associated lore between the activity of ink under skin and the day or images of Jason tats. [7/10]