Halloween 2026: October 2nd

 

Stigmata (1999)
 

It has been observed that horror fans, once they watch one installment of a film series, feel the need to watch the remaining entries, no matter how dire they may become. I am like this too, as the guy who reviewed all eleven "Children of the Corn" movies. It's an impulse I'm trying to fight, so as not to waste any more of the dwindling time I have left on this earth on excessively stupid bullshit. However, sometimes you have to complete the mission you start. "Stigmata" is not a part of a series. It is, however, the last remaining corner in a tetralogy of religious horror movies made around the turn of the millennium by major studios. M-G-M put this one out in September of 1999, Universal released "End of Days" that November, with Paramount's "Bless the Child" and New Line's "Lost Souls" following in August and October of the next year. None of these movies are good  but I have written about the other three already, so it is my destiny to write about "Stigmata" – a title I must always pronounce like Peter Murphy – as well.

Frankie Paige is a hairdresser, living in Pittsburgh, with no religious convictions whatsoever. She receives some rosary beads in the mail from her mom. After which, while in the bath, Frankie has an intense hallucination and awakens with deep punctures through her wrists. While on a train, Frankie goes into a disassociated state again and seemingly has her back violently whipped by invisible forces. Her case is brought to the attention of Father Kiernan, a Jesuit priest who investigates the validity of miracles for the Catholic Church. Kiernan believes Frankie may be demonstrating the stigmata, the miraculous re-creation of the five wounds Christ suffered on the cross. Frankie's state escalates, with her speaking and writing in Aramaic and the violent wounds on her body becoming more severe. Father Kiernan is concerned that, should her condition progress, she will die. His fears are further effected by an attempt by the Catholic Church itself to stop him from uncovering what Frankie's condition seems to be pointing towards...

“Stigmata” deserves some points for being a religious horror movie about Catholicism that isn't concerned with demonic possession, the Anti-Christ, or devil worshipers. Its horror arises from an easily observed but perhaps under-reported aspect of heavenly interaction: That they would probably be horrifying for a non-religious person to experience. This undermines my belief that the Old Testament is one long folk horror story. The idea of bloody, torturous wounds appearing on the body spontaneously certainly allows for lots of gory special effects too. Unfortunately, while the idea of “Stigmata” isn't without merit, it ultimately backs away from the elements that make its premise interesting. Rather than grapple with the idea that gospel revelations border on cosmic horror, “Stigmata” settles for its religious visions being intense but good intentioned. The tension in the story ostensibly comes from the threat of, should Frankie's stigmata conclude with a spear wound to the abdomen, she'll die. The original plan was that she would die at the end, perhaps raising questions about the price of martyrdom and why must such tortures be inflicted on a random innocent woman. Is that God's plan? If so, how does that reflect on this allegedly loving creator? But the script doesn't do that, ultimately draining any suspense from the material. 

“Stigmata” attempts to compensate by playing up the threat of the Catholic Church performing a cover-up of what Frankie's visions are bringing to light. The implication that the Catholic Church, as an institution, perhaps does things that do not benefit the well fair of their congregations would be a bold angle for a horror film to take. Especially a few years before certain information about the Church would become a news story. This idea is also backed away from before the end. The villains of the film are depicted as misguided but never dangerous, nor as representative of the Church's direction overall. Instead of being about how“miracles” might be more horrifying than awe inspiring, that God is kind of an asshole, or that the Catholic Church is an active participant in criminal cover-ups, “Stigmata” is one long advertisement for the Gospel of Thomas, a Biblical deleted scene that was formally denounced by the Vatican in 1945. And that's a lot less interesting, isn't it? 

The timidness of the script in addressing any of the genuinely intriguing ideas it presents still isn't the main reason I dislike “Stigmata” though. The film was directed by Rupert Wainwright, who came to fame for his music videos. Though Wainwright's music video work was with artist like MC Hammer or NWA, I think he was taking inspiration from different artists for this one. “Stigmata” is another late nineties horror movie that decided the grungy visuals, frantic editing, and quote-unquote “disturbing” imagery of the heavy metal and industrial rock videos of the time was the de-facto look for the genre. Aside from the largely washed-out and overcast palette of the entire movie, “Stigmata” often features harshly edited cut-away sequences. These, for one example, depict flickering close-ups on the bloody wounds of the main character, accompanied by harsh sounds on the soundtrack. It is, at best, a played-out style and, to be much more honest, very annoying. It is also the only real attempt at scares the movie has, making “Stigmata” even more of a tedious experience. 

With a script afraid to confront its own layers and its idea of scariness molded by Marilyn Manson videos, what does the film leave us to latch onto? Not much. Patricia Arquette makes for a decent enough lead. She's always been good at balancing physical intensity and a certain tenacity, that is both vulnerable and sexy. That makes her a good choice for a role like this. The scenes that largely revolve around her interaction with Gabriel Byrne as Father Kiernan are the film's best. The two have decent chemistry together, with a certain lightness in their interactions and the smiles they give each that I like. It made me wonder if screenwriter Tom Lazarus – fitting name for this project – hadn't conceive of the film as a romantic drama that he then converted into a horror movie. The relationship between the leads is the sole hint of heart in a otherwise trite motion picture. 

This still makes “Stigmata” the best of the religious thrillers released around the same time. It doesn't pile on the shitty CGI like “End of Days.” It's not as hilariously misconceived in its theatrics as “Bless the Child” nor as utterly lifeless as “Lost Souls.” It was also the most successful of the four films and, outside of Arnold Schwarzenegger sound boards, the only one people seem to remember any. I would not call it good though. Considering Wainwright's other horror credits include a lame remake and a mediocre TV episode, I suspect his heart was not truly in the game. But all these movies focus heavily on the most irritating visual cliches of horror at the time, without finding anything new of their own to say. [5/10]

Killed the Family and Went to the Movies (1969)

Matou a Família e Foi ao Cinema
 

The point of watching fifty horror movies made in countries other than my own, shoved into a two month period, is to broaden my cinematic taste and discover new faces, names, and styles than what my narrow American palette has been previously exposed to. Okay, so who is this Júlio Bressane guy then? He's an acclaimed Brazilian filmmaker, an active force in the country's underground cinema scene in the late sixties and early seventies. His work is experimental and anti-establishment. Okay, okay, that's cool. Every capsule biography of the guy I read mentions how he made six feature films in six months with his loose, improvisational, provocative style. Hmmm, you're starting to lose me, man. Do these movies have points or are they just art-school kids fuckin' around? Alright, alright, I'm gonna give this stuff a fair shot. Bressane kicked off his most productive period with 1969's "Killed the Family and Went to the Movies," which is considered a horror movie by multiple lists of highly regarded world cinema. I'll try it.  

"Killed the Family and Went to the Movies" concerns a young man who... Kills his family and goes to the movies. Specifically, it's a young man living in Rio de Janeiro who slices his abusive father and obnoxious mother's throats with a straight razor before leaving the apartment and visiting the cinema.  Actually, the movie is about two young women, Márcia and Regina, who batter one of their own mothers before shacking up in a desolate apartment over an unspoken amount of time, during which they shoot guns or drop a chicken in a bathtub while contemplating life and their feelings for each other. Actually, "Killed the Family and Went to the Movies" is a series of disconnected vignettes, contrasting conversations both philosophical and mundane with music and senseless acts of violence performed in a country experiencing turbulent times. 

"Killed the Family and Went to the Movies" is a title that places a shocking, life-changing act alongside an ephemeral leisure activity. Clearly, anyone who would murder their parents/spouse/children and then casually stroll down the street to watch a motion picture is disconnected from the consequences of their own actions. It brings to mind tabloid headlines about cold, emotionless psychopaths who leave an apartment full of dead bodies behind and later is caught yucking it up at the latest Jerry Lewis joint. By juxtaposing familicide next to the act of viewing a film, the title also brings to mind our own relationship to cinematic violence. Are people, possibly bored or distracted, watching a fictional depiction of murder on a movie screen any different than the sociopath imagined in the above scenario? Does putting a screen between us and horrible events make us dispassionate towards them? We are not prompt to act but merely to watch. Is this commentary on how the media is a tool of a brutal government, making us numb to the daily horrors occurring around us? Or does it speak to an overall sense of disaffection among the populace, so ground down by the hardships of modern life that they are rendered unable to feel anything, even when presented with deeply personal tragedy? Does society make all of us unfeeling killers, more likely to massacre the people closest to us and then shrug it off with a bag of popcorn and an extra large Sprite Zero? 

Well, it certainly means something. Most of the people at the center of "Killed the Family and Went to the Movies'" scenes are on the younger side. They strike the viewer as teenagers or college students. They don't seem to be working and have time to lay around and gaze into each other's eyes or silently listen to the radio while regarding a straight razor. The principal victims of the early scenes are their immediate authority figures, their parents, who seem disinterested or even hostile to their own offspring. Mom and dad senselessly argue with each other, watch the TV, make dinner, or nitpick their kids' lives. Does that make their eventual violent acts retaliation against the stifling conformity of the previous generation? The presentation of the film is rough, shot on grainy and monochromatic 16mm that was then blown up to 32mm for cinematic presentation. The dialogue strikes one as largely improvised, as do the multiple scenes of its characters singing along to music, mindlessly humming, or just hanging out. The acts depicted are destructive, senseless ones. Slashing dad's throat, beating your mom to a bloody pulp, or taking a bath with some plants and a chicken represent a breakdown of established order. The two girls also seem to be romantically inclined towards each other, making them outcasts in a conformist environment that criminalizes homosexuality. In that case, is the film's violence a rebellious activity? Is Bressane's film a punk rock rejection of the society created by the older generation? Unsurprisingly, also given the context of the title, the activities on-screen eventually move towards acts of self-destruction. When the world is this fucked-up, designed to constrain and consume you, why not burn it all down? This isn't senseless violence and unprovoked suicide, it's a bloody insurrection against the everyday forces meant to control us.

Okay. Maybe it is. Or maybe I simply lack the cultural context to truly understand what Bressane's film is getting at. One of the more chilling sequences of violence in the film is devoted to a man being restrained and tortured by several other guys in an apartment. They make vague references to some sort of information being uncovered, so presumably they are government secret police. Does this point towards “Killed the Family and Went to the Movies” being a reaction to the paranoia of living under a military junta? When your friends and family can disappear at any point, un-person-ed overnight, the threat of random violence has a different meaning. The film is at its most upsetting when centering its carnage against common-place settings. Many long scenes are scored to pop songs on the radio, another contrast between fluffy pop culture and bloody death. One scene has an assassin with a pistol sitting quietly before a corpse and what looks like some kids at a birthday party. At the same time, the film also escalates in its provocations until a sequence at the end that is predictable in its transgressions. Alright, so is this simply a primal scream, an explosion of anguish and horror at what was happening in Brazil at this time?

These are but three interpretations and more surely exists within Bressane's film. I imagine the queer content lends itself to further readings. The finale adds another meta loop to the material, the two girls discussing a film they just saw that seems to depict a version of what they are about to or just did. Assuming any of the reoccurring faces – which includes the screen debut of Renata Sorrah, who would go on to star in the Confused Math Lady meme – are meant to be the same characters from scene-to-scene. I've seen some reviews of the film that describe it as featuring the same actors playing different characters. “Killed the Family and Went to the Movies” is so detached from the people it's depicting that I didn't pick up on this. That's, ultimately, my big problem with the film. All the events are watched from a chilly, impersonal perspective. There's no emotional in to this story to me, making me wonder why I should care about these events. Perhaps that is my indifference to on-screen violence at work. Either way, the film's reputation among Brazilian cinephiles as an underground classic, so beloved and established it got an in-name-only remake in the nineties, is clearly secured. However, this one might be a step too removed for me to truly engage with it. I do think it qualifies as horror though, but maybe I prefer my Brazilian horror to feature Coffin Joe jabbing people's eyes out than this. [5/10]

 

 

Chillers: Something You Have to Live With
 

Usually, anthology shows pull from multiple literary source materials for their ideas. It's a lot easier to pick and choose the best, or most easily adapted, short stories from a selection of writers if you hope to build a compelling program. However, single author anthologies have cropped up over the years. Writers in this exclusive club include Zane Grey, ol' Ray of course, Stephen King, and Patricia Highsmith. You'd be forgiven for missing that the mother of Tom Ripley had her own TV show though. A French/English co-production, “Chillers” only ran for twelve episodes in 1990. I'm not sure it ever aired on U.S. television. It's rarely mentioned when the topic of Highsmith adaptations come up. A separate anthology series with a nearly identical title would air five years later. “Chillers” owes whatever little infamy it has to the Highsmith connection and Anthony Perkins serving as host, during the last few years of his life. That has been enough to get it a DVD release and, if I'm going to sample the show, the same year as watching all the “Psycho” movies seems like a good time to do it.

“Something You Have to Live With” revolves around married couple Jessica and Stanley, who have recently moved into a new home in the country side. After Stanley installs new locks on the door, he's called away to France to attend to his sickly mother. Jessica's only company is Cassie, the house cat. That changes when a man in a mask breaks into the house. He's strangely conversational, if vulgar, and repeatedly ignores Jessica's pleas for him to leave. After he cruelly snaps Cassie's neck, Jessica has had enough. She bludgeons him over the head with the oar she bought Stanley as a gift. She's quite surprised to find that the man is now dead. The police clear her actions as self-defense. Despite that, Jessica can't stop thinking about it. She begins to mention in passing, often at dinner parties and almost compulsively, that she has recently killed a man. 

There's an interesting undercurrent to “Something You Have to Live With.” Stanley is presented as largely incompetent in the first scene. He struggles to install a simple lock and, as the home intrusion makes clear, doesn't do it correctly. The burglar dismisses Jessica's husband as nu-masculine simply from looking at a photo. He also threatens to tie her up, commenting on the sexual connotations of the act at the same time. Tuesday Weld plays Jessica as clearly unsettled by the intrusion yet the sexual chemistry between them remains. Her obsession with the man after she kills him could suggest a few things. Is it merely guilt or trauma over killing someone? Or a lingering fascination over a more interesting man than her husband literally barging into her life? Her husband's reaction to her sudden impulse to continuously mention the homicide could be concern over his wife's well-being... Or it could be akin to a wife constantly mentioning an ex-boyfriend, to repeatedly remind of her partner's inadequacies as a man. No wonder he gets fed up of hearing about it.

It's an interesting promise, able to be played for dark humor or a slow sense of suspense. “Something You Have to Live With” attempts to go for both, not entirely successfully. It's a little better as comedy, if only because laughter is the natural reaction to someone busting out the “Remember when I killed a guy?” chestnut at every social gathering, no matter how inappropriate. However, the episode is not able to derive any tension from the slow build-up of resentment in the married couple's relationship. With Stanley being away for a big chunk of the episode, we never get a real sense of what this couple is like. The direction is fairly flat throughout. Tuesday Weld is a likable presence in the lead but her stunned quality becomes increasingly harder to take seriously as the episode goes on, leading to a shrug of an ending. Perkins is a decent choice to be a host but he isn't able to give “Chillers'” wrap-around segments any sense of identity, which an anthology series really needs. [6/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Badge of Honor
 

A rotund police detective, Russ Sharko, botches a sting operation, out of his thirst for vengeance against mobster Victor Haas. His actions get a fellow cop killed and Sharko thrown off the forces. That is when he randomly comes into the possession of the expected “Friday the 13th: The Series” cursed antique. It's an old west sheriff star, which causes the guilty to die upon contact. Meanwhile, an ex-boyfriend of Micki's named Tim shows up at Curious Goods. It turns out that Tim is an undercover cop, working to bring Haas down through official channels. Ryan is suspicious of the guy and, upon finding a gun in his bag, suspect he's up to no good. 

“Friday the 13th: The Series” obviously isn't an anthology series but the elasticity of its premise allows the show to jump into different genres fairly easily. Which makes me wonder if some of these episodes didn't begin life as spec scripts for other shows, retro-fitted to this program because someone had it laying around. “Badge of Honor” feels more like it would belong to an eighties cop show than “Friday the 13th.” Call it “Kill Street Blues” or “Toronto Vice.” The outfits Ryan and Micki wear through most of this one – a white sports jacket over a high-collared polo shirt? A red halter top with mint green jacket and micro-skirt? –  certainly made me think of Crocket and Tubbs' questionable fashion choices. All of which is to say that the many scenes here of an undercover cop making terse negotiations with a mob boss, while coke is being sliced into rails or strippers who pointedly do not take their clothes off, feel out-of-place in this show.  Director Michelle Manning would actually make two episodes of “Miami Vice” a year after this, so I'm guessing she was basically auditioning for the show. Her use of slow-motion or a sax-heavy score feel very mawkish and out-of-place here. 

Further alienating this episode from the show it is a part of is that Ryan and Micki, once again, feel tangential to the actual story being told. Here's another installment where events would have played out more-or-less the same without their involvement at all. The duo don't actually participate in the action until the last act, where they spend several scenes comically sneaking around behind the cops. Micki's past relationship with Tim is the only element actually dragging them into this plot. That subplot also feels weird. John Stockwell is a handsome enough guy, sure. It still feels weird for her to immediately start sucking face with an ex the minute he walks into the shop. Did I miss when she officially broke up with her lawyer fiance or have the show writers forgotten about that? Either way, the presence of another man still causes Ryan to be jealous. He is referred to as Micki's cousin, as if to remind us of how weird it is that he's so territorial around another man. 

Attempting to shoe-horn some typical cop show thrills into this episode is an odd fit for another reason. The horror elements here are two-fold: The curse sheriff's badge at the center of the plot causes its victims to contort and jerk around violently before expiring. The mechanics of “Friday the 13th's” MacGuffins usually require some sort of exchange, the wielder getting something in exchange for the murders. I guess Sharko already wanting revenge on these men is payment enough. Either way, the induced seizures look very silly. Sharko keeping his wife's corpse under a shower curtain in his bedroom is kind of fun though. Val Avery – also played a cop in “The Amityville Horror” and “Cobra” and a dozen other things – makes the guy such a pathetic, hard-drinking, sweaty old dweeb that it's hard to take him seriously as a vigilante. You would expect this premise to bend in an A.C.A.B. direction. A cop extra-judicially executing criminals is obviously treated like a bad thing. While the rogue detective suffers for his actions, he still gets the bad guy before the end so I don't think the script disagrees with what he does that much. Also, if you think Sharko is a funny name for a character, be prepared for how many times somebody named “Cooder” is brought up in this hour. [5/10]

 

Halloween 2026: October 1st

Satan's Slaves (1980)

Pengabdi Setan
 

Indonesia was ruled by a dictatorship from 1967 to 1998, which is normally not ideal circumstances for running a commercial film industry. Especially when it comes to a genre like horror, which specializes in shocking or subversive ideas. While horror movies were de-facto banned at certain points during the New Domain era, the genre actually flourished in Indonesian in the seventies and eighties. I've already talked about some of the crazy exploitation creature features to come out of the country during that time. The movie that truly kicked off the eighties horror boom in Indonesia is 1980's “Satan's Slaves,” which shows the interesting ways the regime's oversight effected how these movies were written and made. 

Munarto has recently lost his wife. His children, teenage son Tomi and out-going daughter Rita, have lost a mother. Immediately following her passing, strange things begin to happen around the house. Tomi sees his mother's ghost, receives a warning from a fortune teller, and becomes interested in black magic. A housekeeper named Darminah, a mysteriously alluring woman, arrives at the home without explanation. Rita begins to see the spectre of her mother too. Her boyfriend is violently killed in a motorcycle wreck. The family's groundskeeper is found hanging from a noose in the shed. While Munarto continues to dismiss his children's concerns, they are increasingly harassed by visions of the dead. They believe Darminah is connected to the hauntings and this is true. She raises the corpses of the family's deceased loved ones to torment them further. 

As I've tracked down more international horror flicks from the seventies and eighties, it's become common for me to comment on the influence Hollywood blockbusters had on foreign productions. Indonesian producers were not above mining American films for ideas. More than one reviewer has called “Satan's Slaves” a rip-off of “Phantasm,” which strikes me as a stretch. Had Don Coscarelli's low-budget cult classic even reached the south seas by 1980? Aside from Tomi seeing a fortune teller after his mother's death, I don't see anything but general parallels between these two stories  a teenage boy going through familial grief and encountering supernatural terror. Instead, “Satan's Slaves” filters a number of well-known cinematic horror tropes through an Indonesian sensibility. The sequence of Herman dying in a freak motorcycle accident, after a vision of Darminah, brings “The Omen” to mind. The presence of religion being used to ward off demonic spirits seems likely influenced by “The Exorcist.” In general, the movie freely mixes elements from haunted house and zombie movies to create an interesting blend of spooky shenanigans.  

What makes “Satan's Slaves” especially fascinating is how its Indonesian perspective effects these familiar story elements. You are probably aware that Islam is the majority religion in Indonesia, the country in fact having the largest Muslim population of any in the world. This is clearly reflected in “Satan's Slaves.” Supporting characters repeatedly clarify that the family has invited in these demonic presences by not committing to the faith. While looking for a book on black magic, Tomi is instructed by an Islamic kyai to focus on his prayers instead. The finale clarifies that the movie's villain specifically targets people who have abandoned their faith. The ending piles on the power of the Qu'ran to drive out evil, one of the final images of the film being a crescent moon and star above a masque. This message was mandated by the government, who insisted that salacious horror movies at least reinforce religious conformity. In effect, this means “Satan's Slaves” operates exactly the same as most Western horror movies, in which the crucifix wards off evil and Catholic priests exorcise demons, but simply with another religion's symbols and garb in its place.

As someone interested in other cultures and their perspective on the world, that's intriguing to me. But the main reason I loved the previous Indonesian horror movies I've seen is because they were crazy. “Satan's Slaves” does not pile on the psychotronic elements that way “Mystics in Bali” or “The Queen of Black Magic” did. There is a wild sequence, in which Tomi has a nightmare where cultists in Halloween masks lead him down into an underground chamber, where some Satanic bullshit is happening. The last act also features the amusing revelation that Darminah apparently receives a perm when fully embracing her witchy ways. Otherwise though, this one emphasizes a creepy atmosphere much more over wild set pieces. The sequences devoted to the ghostly mother appearing are effective. The finale gets gorier and campier, with pasty-faced zombies threatening the family. The same can be said of the failed exorcism a shaman attempts. However, I would say that “Satan's Slaves” does a good job of balancing trashier thrills with a more foreboding ambiance. 

While the crash-zooms and unnaturally bright red blood definitely push “Satan's Slaves” into the realm of wacky cult movie, the story is ultimately rooted in a very real feeling. The death of their mother destabilizes Tomi and his family. The father looses himself in his work to cope, as dads often do. Rita spends more time with her boyfriend and parties more, to distract and dull the pain. The boy is left alone in his room, turning to mysticism to find the comfort a family too wrapped up in their own grief can provide him. Yes, “Satan's Slaves” ultimately pushes towards a didactic message about how there is no god but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet. However, that precedes your classical ominous closing credit moment. Maybe their renewed faith will re-center the family. But Tomi's innocence will still be gone, having learned that there is pain and loss and evil in this world. 

I can see why “Satan's Slaves” garnered a reputation as a cult classic of Indonesian horror. It's gory enough and has shrieking, beady-eyed zombies to appeal to the gore-heads and monster kids. The aesthetic is certainly on the campier side, with the seventies fashion and style. However, it has a certain creepy power to it and deeper ideas lurking within. The original would regain a lot of its reputation following Joko Anwar's remake, which has since spawned two sequels of its own. Okay but do those have the word of Allah saving the day? I think I'm a convert now. Anyway, I liked this. Good stuff. [7/10]

Man's Best Friend (1993)
 

Well, it finally happened. For years now, after seeing a movie at the geographically closer but shittier movie theater than the nicer one further in town, my buddy and I would sometimes hit the mall next door afterwards. We'd walk around and bullshit but our favorite way to waste time was to head to the F*Y*E within. Almost always, we would browse through the horror section. Sometimes, I would find some random title I didn't already own at the exact price I was willing to pay for it. After many years of enjoying this activity, the dwindling mainstream audience for physical media has led the location to close its door. It's not exactly a loss, as FYE's prices were ridiculously marked-up and their selection of actual Blu-Rays not that great. Nevertheless, I will miss it. To commemorate the end of this era, I had to find a horror movie worth owning that cost less than ten bucks. That's where “Man's Best Friend” comes in, the exact kind of mid-tier minor cult classic ideal for such an occasion. 

Our protagonist is Lori Tanner, a news reporter for a local station desperate to crack a big story. She breaks into a genetic engineering facility called EMAX with a camera person in tow, Lori knows that a story about animals being abused by heartless scientist will tug at heart strings. At the center of a lab full of exotic animals, she discovers a big but otherwise normal looking dog. After the animal protects her from a mugger, she brings him home. Calling him Max, the dog becomes fiercely protective of Lori. What she doesn't know is that Max is no ordinary mutt. Intead, he's a genetically engineered super-dog with a litany of abilities borrowed from other creatures. His creator, Dr. Jarrett, is determined to get him back. Partially because it's his research but also because Max's sanity is degrading, making him dangerously violent. That's why this canine is killing anyone in Lori's suburb that displeases him. Will Lori be able to protect Max or will her pooch's deteriorating condition see him turning on his master?

“Man's Best Friend” is part of a peculiar tradition that flourished in the nineties: R-rated movies that are clearly intended for children. The film was written and directed by John Lafia, whose “Child's Play 2” probably belongs tot he same trend. In many ways, the film is a horror version of the previous year's “Beethoven.” This dog is so big and so unruly, he turns his owner's life upside down! Max does all the expected rascally dog behavior, like chasing a cat, aggravating a mail man, and stymieing the local dog catchers. As an animal, he's altogether wilder in his instincts than we rational humans are. At the same time, this doggo possesses an uncanny intelligence beyond what his breed usually entails. That sounds like a kid's movie and it basically is, except Max's shenanigans include tearing people's throats out. The movie embraces the idea of a super-killer dog the way a seven year old pitching a movie would. This is most evident in the sequence where he cocks a leg and urinates acid, which is naturally implied to someone's face later. The special effects used to bring such stunts, like Max leaping over a police car or climbing a tree with his extending jaguar claws, are less than convincing. Making it further obvious that this motion picture is made for young kids, several long scenes follow the plucky boy neighbor of Lori's that she allows in her house all the time. It really feels like someone mixed up a script for a family-friendly dog comedy with one of New Line Cinema's sillier horror sequels. 

Weirdly, this never results in any tonal inconsistencies. “Man's Best Friend” simply plays its goof-ball visions mostly straight. Lafia and his team clearly know that this is a very silly movie. An extended sequence has Max breaking into a home where a pretty female collie lives, the subsequent seduction/assault scored to Donny Osmond's “Puppy Love.” Technically, the day is saved at the end by another puppy, in a particularly unlikely turn of events that can only play like a joke. The biggest indicator that we aren't meant to take “Man's Best Friend” seriously is the parade of cartoonishly awful people it sets up for Max to decimate. The mail man carries mace and seems delighted to have a chance to use it on an aggressive dog. When Lori attempts to re-home the dog she technically stole, Max ends up in the hands of a junk yard owner who is grotesquely abusive. Lori's boyfriend is an obvious asshole who hates Max because the dog actually respects her boundaries. Max cuts his break lines. The cops on the case chokes down donuts and shit-talk each other with big, exaggerated Jersey accents, even though the movie is set in California. It's just one ridiculous caricature after another. 

“Man's Best Friend” is like this probably because it was written for seven year olds but also so the audience will align morally with Max. Yes, he's a gene-spliced murder-dog who maws at least one innocent person to death. Making most of his victims horrible people means we won't be upset when they get munched. This is unnecessary, of course. The audience is going to naturally like the dog. Simply because he's a big, fluffy, adorable puppy. The dog playing Max, a Tibetan Mastiff, has an extremely expressive face and cutely rolls around in a few poses. Lori is a totally oblivious character, unable to see the signs that Max is anything but an especially loyal dog. That loyalty naturally makes him even more sympathetic. That's why we love dogs. They stick by us, even when no one else will. Making Max a victim of cruel medical science further causes us to love him, despite ostensibly being the movie's monster.

Max is the movie's monster but not its villain. That falls to Lance Henriksen as Dr. Jarrett. He's the Dr. Frankenstein of this story, who unleashed a threat with his genius and now must destroyed. While the movie around him is silly as fuck, Henriksen plays the material with shocking seriousness. Lance's always-gravelly intensity manages to make the guy threatening no matter how absurd things get. That points out some deeper ideas lurking in the margins of the story. To Lori, Max is a beloved pet. To others, he's a killer, the kind of dynamic anyone who has owned a breed with a fearsome reputation is familiar with. The world calls pit bulls and Rottweilers horrors but, to those that love them, they are loyal companions. Of course, that doesn't mean that these animals don't hurt or kill people either. It's a complex role, these not-wolves we've let into our homes and hearts play. They are commercial products but living things, fiercely protected by some and thoughtlessly abused by others. Naturally, “Man's Best Friend” doesn't process these ideas in any meaningful way but I can't help but ponder on them afterwards.

In other words, this is a very goofy motion picture that can't help but entertain through its audacity. Looking back on it, I previously gave “Man's Best Friend” a low score. This is a testament to what a humorless scold I used to be as a teenager. Because, I mean, “Man's Best Friend” obviously rocks. Must I reference the acid dog piss again? How am I not supposed to love a movie containing such a moment? If it had been made more recently, the movie would probably be insufferably self-aware of its own silliness. Instead, “Man's Best Friend” appeared during that prime time for horror movies with a ludicrously childish perspective but an inability to acknowledge this. A classic, in other words. Yes, this is available in a restored and extras-packed edition but I'm going to hold onto the cheap DVD. As a reminder of my fallen video store and also because it's the exact kind of low-brow presentation a movie like this was made for. [7/10]

Monsters: Sin-Sop

Here's a season three episode of “Monsters” with an oddball premise. Reporter Laura Daniel arrives at the business of a Southern minister calling himself Brother Roy. He's running a “sin cleansing” operation out of his home. Upstairs, he has the embalmed body of what he claims was “one of the world's most evil men.” Now, if you are to grab a hold of the apparent corpse's hand, a few things happen. The body springs to life, its skin stretching and swelling. Your own body goes into seemingly pleasurable contortions. More green fluid is flushed out of the dead man and into a near-by bathtub. This process seemingly removes someone's sins from their body. Laura is skeptical at first but, after one grip of the dead body's hand, becomes convinced. That's when, Larch Lazaar, an on-the-run killer, shows up in the waiting room.

Since “Monsters” is only a half-hour television show, it does not time to get into the exact mechanics of the bizarre situation it presents to us. How did Brother Roy come into the possession of the dead body of such an evil man? Who is this evil man? Was he a military leader? A serial killer? A Republican senator? And how did his corpse acquire this ability and how does it work? Moreover, how exactly does one measure the quality of “sin?” I would think this is a debate people have been having for centuries, about the relative morality of certain actions versus another. The cleansing process seems to be an orgasmic experience for the participant, which I imagine some would classify as a sin by itself. Meanwhile, what is Brother Roy's purpose here? His manner of dress, repeated references to “the good word,” and Southern accent all point towards him being some phony, televangelist type. Clearly, cleansing people of their sins is a good business venture but how does it effect one spiritually? Isn't the whole point of repenting that the person recognized they've sin in the first place? This process seems to work whether the customer believes in it or not.

Anyway, that's definitely me overthinking. “Sin-Sop” is currently the fourth highest ranked episode of “Monsters” on IMDb, suggesting it's well-regarded by the weirdos who watch old anthology shows and then bother to rate them online. Like predecessor series “Tales from the Darkside,” I think “Monsters” is most remembered by people who caught a random episode as a kid and was frightened by what they saw. I suspect “Sin-Sop” was a big source of such kindertrauma. Namely, the finale features a lot of casual body horror, of the corpse's skin inflating and bloating while green slime oozes out of various orifices. While I still don't entirely understand what the fuck the logic is behind this story, I do appreciate some good slow and rubber bladders gags. This was an early gig for direct P.J. Pesce, who would go on to make direct-to-video sequels to “From Dusk Til Dawn” and “The Lost Boys.” He would also direct a couple episode of Shudder's “Creepshow” series, which feels like a deliberate reference to his work on this show. I can't really vouch for the quality of his work but he sure could direct the heck out of an oozing zombie attack. [5/10]

 

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Pirate's Promise

I feel like I was just arguing for the validity of the pirate as a horror character and here comes “Friday the 13th: The Series” to back me up. The Artifact of Doom this week is a cursed foghorn that can summon the ghost of Angus McBride, a 17th century pirate who buried his treasure near-by before being killed by his mutinous crew. Now, in exchange for the blood of the descendants of said crew, he'll reveal the location of said treasure. Somehow, the owner of the lighthouse Joe Fenton has become aware of this. He's sacrificing people in the seaside town, each of them unaware of their connection to the legendary pirate. Joe's brother, Dewey, operates the nautical museum adjacent to the lighthouse and contacts Ryan and Micki about the foghorn, bringing our heroes into this tale of high-tight haunted and pirated plunder. 

By now, it should be obvious that I prefer television programs with episodic plotting. However, there's a downside to this sometimes too. Sometimes, an episode comes along that feels a little detached from the actual series. Ryan and Micki are on the road again, Jack nowhere to be seen in this one. That means “The Pirate's Promise” seems devoted largely to the rivalry of the brothers in this seaside town, alongside the related people here and there. It seems the plot here is more about these supporting characters than our actual protagonists. The final scene is Micki expressing some grief over the death of someone she recently became friends with. This feels a bit like a fanfic where the established heroes are written going on about how great the author's original creations. 

So this one does not have a lot of the interaction between the cast members we like. What it does have is some good spooky pirate shenanigans. Every time the evil fog horn is sounded, the ghostly gallon pulls up through the bank of fog. Ol' Captain McBride rides in a boat, his hook hand flashing through the mist. The episode mostly keeps the captain in the shadows, until a decently executed shocking reveal towards the end. There's also an amusing cut between an axe coming up and then coming down, where a commercial break would've aired during the broadcast version. The twist ending is extremely easy to predict but does prove somewhat satisfying anyway. A fairly middling episode that doesn't focus on the show's strengths but I do love me a good ghost pirate. [6/10]

Halloween 2026: September 30th

 

Predator: Badlands (2025)

By now, it's obvious that Dan Trachtenberg is a “Predator” fanboy. After “Prey” managed to reignite interest in the series, Disney basically gave him the keys to the alien big game hunter kingdom. He got to make a bigger budget sequel and a cartoon anthology spin-off, both of which continue to show how easily the “Predator” template can be combined with other story types. While allowing hardcore nerds to run an established franchise has had mixed results in the past, it seems to have worked out in this case. “Predator: Badlands” released last year to positive reviews and decent box office. While the internet outrage machine tried to brew some discontent around its increased role for female characters, it seems to me that fans mostly liked this one too. I saw it at the time and enjoyed myself but was too hung-over to write a proper review. While “Badlands” veers much more towards the science fiction and action side of the franchise's equation than horror, it's still got enough crazy monsters in it that I can bullshit its inclusion in the Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-thon. 

“Badlands” begins on the desolate home world of the mysterious warrior race. Dek is the youngest off-spring of a clan of Yautja warriors. Because this civilization abhors weakness, the runts of the litter are usually killed off. Dek's older brother, Kwei, spares him. Determined to prove his worth to the clan, Dek decides for his maiden hunt to track down a creature called the Kalisk. It resides on a highly dangerous planet known as Genna and is feared by even the mightiest hunters. Unfortunately, Dek's asshole dad arrives and kills Kwei, seconds after he sends his sibling off on this mission. After landing on Genna, Dek soon meets up with Thia, a humanoid android that has been cut in half. The two form an uneasy partnership, Dek eager to survive and claim his prize while Thia is curious about the alien. The quest to find and kill the Kaslisk is complicated by two things: Thia's “sister” is leading an expedition of evil Weyland-Yutani androids to exploit that planet's resources and they are right on the duo's tail. Secondly, the Kalisk proves harder to kill – and altogether more likable – than originally assumed. 

By now, Dan Trachtenberg's willingness to follow the lead of the old “Predator” comic books in his sequels are well established. “Prey” took the approach of dropping the alien hunter into a different time period and setting, which “Killer of Killers” than tripled-down on. That animated feature also brought the name “Yautja,” long used in the comics but never spoken on film before, into official canon. “Badlands” goes even further in this direction by doing something else the comics regularly did. It makes the monster the hero of the story. In fact, “Badlands” does more to expand the on-screen lore of the series than any prior installments. We see the Predator home world, learn its name, delve into the culture of this species, and hear a whole lot of its clicking, guttural language. Now, this brings with it certain gaps in logic that a whole library of comics and novels have happily filled up but a feature film doesn't have time to get into. How exactly does an alien civilization that bases its entire culture around manhood ritual style hunting trips, that cull the perceived “weakest” members of the family from the bloodline, ever survive long enough to achieve light-speed intergalactic travel? But don't think about it that hard. The point is, “Badlands” is the “Predator” series taking its own lore and history very seriously perhaps for the first actual time. 

While making the Predator the protagonist of the story is a new thing for the film series, “Badlands” still follows the established pattern of sticking this alien in a familiar genre framework. This time, it's an intergalactic take on a wilderness survival/coming-of-age story. Dek is a youth on the cusp of adulthood, eager to prove himself but inexperienced. He's thrust into the wild with few resources. He meets a girl and bonds with an animal. More specifically, this journey sees him rejecting the might-makes-right mentality he was raised in. He forges his own path, apart from what he's been taught. At times, I wonder if this makes the previously mysterious alien threat too familiar to the audience. Dek is by far the cuddliest Predator yet. He has a dry sense of humor. His status as the runt of the litter, so rejected by his family that his dad wants to kill him, makes him an immediate underdog the viewer can root for. The arc, of Thia's sunny disposition rubbing off on the gruff alien, is totally expected. Bud, the alien sidekick he gains, is clearly playing with the same “cute little alien” tropes as the Baby Yodas of the world. 

Despite the apparent hokiness of a lot of the familiar beats “Badlands” is utilizing, it all ends up working. Elle Fanning could play a role like this in her sleep, a Manic Android Dream Girl that is nevertheless extremely charming. (That she plays the character's evil twin also allows her a wider range.) How Dek slowly comes around to taking her advice is a natural, smooth way to show his development without belaboring the point too much. In other words, the viewer buys into the improbable link between these three unlikely characters. This is good, as the entire last act is dependent on caring about their interaction. While the right-wing types were fast to criticize this as a neutering of a bad-ass, classically masculine figure, rejecting your shitty parents in favor of your cooler, accepting friends and partner is a tale as old as time. 

As a sci-fi monster movie, “Badlands” is a lot of fun too. Genna is presented as a planet where everything can and will kill you. Even the grass is outfitted with razor sharp blades. The fauna is exotic, deadly, and aggressive. In execution, this amounts to the script setting up about a dozen beasts and death traps in the first act. All of this stuff comes back around for the finale, in a way that feels smooth and satisfying. The alien creatures on-display here are not especially novel. They follow the “Avatar” format of taking familiar Earth species and giving them a few extraterrestrial gimmicks. However, the way these set-ups interact with the familiar elements of the “Predator” franchise prove satisfying. The movie is CGI heavy, to the point of feeling nearly as animated as Trachtenberg's animated “Predator” movie. It's action sequences do not break any new ground, as far as mainstream blockbusters go. However, the fight choreography is strong throughout. There's a speed and precision to the combat that I enjoy. Not to mention a wacky sense of humor, present in an extended sequence involving Thia's lower body being separate from her top.

“Badlands” also lacks much of the harder gore that characterized the majority of “Predator” films before this. All of the bloodshed is alien-on-alien or alien-on-robot. Yes, that means this truly is the PG-13-ification of the franchise. However, I don't think that's so bad, at least not when the movie is as entertaining and smoothly constructed as this one. Dan Trachtenberg is clearly a talented guy, with a good handle on balancing satisfying fan expectations with an ability to construct entertaining set pieces. I don't want to see him making only “Predator” movies for the rest of his career but he's also clearly passionate about the series. I think “Prey” gave me a little more of what I want from a “Predator” movie but “Badlands” is doubtlessly a good time at the movies. [7/10]

 

 

The Shadowed Mind (1988)
 

Films made in Apartheid-era South Africa were, unsurprisingly, heavily scrutinized by the censors. Like everything else in the country, the industry was divided along racial, social lines. Any messages that could be perceived as critical of the government usually resulted in a ban. The same government also criminalized homosexuality, at least between men. Presumably, director Cedric Sundstrom and his crew were well aware that their 1988 film “The Shadowed Mind,” featuring openly gay and sympathetic characters, would not meet with federal approval. Sadly, an international audience would also be largely denied. The MPAA rated the picture NC-17, damning it to obscurity in the U.S., and its release didn't get far much anywhere else either. Severin put out a restored Blu-Ray of the film in 2022, its first time on disc ever, finally giving “The Shadowed Mind” the audience it was long denied. 

Stephanie arrives at an isolated, partially underground institute. The clinic is run by Dr. Dieter Hildesheimer and seeks to cure individuals with “sexual dysfunctions.” Stephanie, who has had a compulsion to show people her breasts since childhood, meets the other in-mates. There's a nymphomaniac, a victim of childhood abuse, a homosexual man, a fellow with serious arrested development and gender issues, and Paul. Paul is impotent but channels his sexual frustration into violent fantasies. He quickly becomes attracted to Stephanie, wondering if she's the girl to finally cure him. That's right around the time people start to be violently murdered around the facility. Dr. Hildesheimer covers up the deaths, to secure an in-coming grant, which only prolongs the actions of whoever the killer is. 

I don't know if clinics that specialize entirely in sexual hang-ups, and based out of partially underground warehouses, are a real thing. This is maybe the first clue that “The Shadowed Mind” is heading into surreal territory a  bit. The second clue is how the film looks. Cinematographer George Bartels and art director Ruth Strimling go all-in on making each shot as pretty and dreamy as possible. Each patients' individual rooms are full of flowing curtains, bright colors, artistic lighting, and significant props. The cast members are frequently positioned in wider shots like pieces of an art display. It's an extremely baroque style, every shot looking like it's out of a Duran Duran music video. It strays into the area of camp often, especially in the self-consciously erotic moments. A movie doesn't include a slow-mo, full frontal shower scene for its hunkiest actor without being a little ironic about it. However, I generally found “The Shadowed Mind” to be visually splendid. 

Obviously, such a grandiose visual approach is part of the film's thesis. “The Shadowed Mind” takes place in an underground facility because it takes place in the subconscious. Once the dead bodies start to pile up, that's why the professionals disguise the evidence. It's one more shameful, dark secret buried deep down within this place. Obviously, that territory is where the blurry area between sex and violence resides too. The murder scenes in the film, clearly giallo influenced, are no less stylized than the rest of the movie. The knife is stiletto-like in its length and, upon penetrating its victims, tends to leave a money shot of blood on the walls. The murder scenes often go hand-in-hand with sexual arousal, as if the knife being a symbolic dick couldn't be any more obvious. The overall archness of “The Shadowed Mind” certainly allows it to get away with stuff like this.

Like the giallo that clearly inspired it, “The Shadowed Mind” is also not a film that concerned with narrative coherence. The plotting is loose. This isn't much more than a series of character sketches piled atop each other, with the largely secondary thread of the murders tying them all together. Some of the sexual quirks based therapy sessions are more compelling than the others. Stephanie's fixation on flashing her boobs sure is curious. The sequence devoted to gender confusion, by the in-mate who is always carrying around a teddy bear, is probably the most sympathetically designed. However, the lady with repressed memories of childhood abuse is nothing but a sketch. As is the gay man lusting after Paul. In fact, Paul himself seems a bit undefined. If he's closeted, a psycho, a scared kid, or a horn-dog without an outlet seems to vary from scene-to-scene. In general, “The Shadowed Mind” can't seem to figure out if Stephanie or Paul is its protagonist. 

In other words, “The Shadowed Mind” is basically a giallo that's plotted like a slasher movie, all its quirky cast members existing primarily to be offed. That the movie received an NC-17 is especially laughable. There's two seconds of on-screen dong and I'm sure the love scenes exceed the allotted number of pelvic thrusts the pearl-clutchers at the MPAA tolerate. However, the sex scenes aren't truly any more graphic than a hundred other erotic thrillers that were deemed acceptable for wide commercial distribution. When exactly “The Shadowed Mind” was released state-side, I'm not sure. Some sources say 1993, a year after “Basic Instinct” flashed its crotch in multiplexes all over America. So this one getting harsher treatment than that once again displays the rating board's anti-queer bigotry. If given more of a proper release at the time, I'm certain “The Shadowed Mind” would've gained a cult following quickly. It's way too interesting, pretty, and amusing a motion picture not to, even if it's not as deep or perceptive as it wants to be. Sundstrom would go on to direct the third and fourth “American Ninjas,” which are also pretty gay but otherwise don't reflect the strong visual eye on display here. I would've liked to have seen more arty nonsense from him. [7/10]

 

TerrorVision: The Closet Monster

LifeTime was not, it may surprise you to hear this, always Television for Women. The channel was originally born out of a fusion of the Cable Health Network, which focused on health and medicine, and Daytime, a four-hour per day broadcast of “alternative programming for women.” What this meant is that, in its first four years, Lifetime featured a bunch of lame talk shows, medical documentaries, and re-runs. A new head of programming came aboard in 1988, eventually beginning the network's transformation into what it became. I guess there must have been a lot of dead air in-between shows and movies at that time though. Lifetime inexplicably debuted a horror anthology that year. “TerrorVision” was a super low budget collection of ten minute long short films, shot on video and designed to be nothing much but filler. It's probably the most obscure program I've yet written about but all the episodes are currently on Youtube, so let's give it a shot. 

Ethan is a kid who refuses to clean out his closet, much to his mother's annoyance. One night, while attempting to sleep, he hears strange noises coming from the closet. He announces to his parents that there's a monster living inside the alcove. Mom believes this is an excuse to avoid the chore but dad humors the kid, trying to encourage him to stand up to his imaginary monster. This does not resolve the issue, with Ethan eventually attacking his dad after mistaking him for the closet-dwelling creature. The boy is sent off to a therapist, leaving Mom alone in her son's bedroom, where she decides to personally investigate the closet situation.

“TerrorVision” is such a lo-fi production that I'm surprised it aired on a nationally broadcast station at all. The acting is mugging and awkward, especially from the lead child actor. His announcement of “there's a monster in my closet” is such a hypnotically bad line-reading. The musical score is composed of electronic burps. There's a neat enough first-person perspective shot of the boy going down the stairs but most of the framing is largely stationary and flat. There's potential in the narrative here, of a child not being believed by their parents when they should be. The moment when Ethan clubs his dad over the head with a bat, insisting he's killed the monster, feels like it's leading towards a meaningful twist. Instead, the story resolves itself by blandly revealing that the presented truth is, in fact, the truth. And to what end, other than a clumsy and ineffective attempt at a jump scare? Perhaps an utterly forgotten, ten minute long filler program was not designed to be probe to any degree. I guess the monster is kind of neat looking? [5/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Double Exposure
 

Sometimes, it has felt like the “Friday the 13th: The Series” writers had to get real creative to make that week's chosen Artifact of Doom into something that could murder a person. A tea cup or quilt does not strike most as threatening objects. While equally mundane, there's enough weird superstitions around photography that multiple films and TV episodes have been made about them. “Friday the 13th” still came up with a weird angle of their own. Newscaster Winston Knight has become a celebrity himself by reporting on a serial killer chopping people up in the area, the so-called Machete Murder. This is an example of the media creating the event and then reporting on it. Knight is in the possession of a magical Polaroid camera. When it snaps a photo of someone, it births a perfect physical copy of them, bound to do their bidding. Within twenty-four hours, the photograph must be burned – killing the double – or else the owner of the camera will perish instead. Knight has been using these duplicates to commit the killings he then reports on live, giving him an undebatable alibi. Ryan, currently enamored of a new girlfriend named Cathy, stumbles upon Knight's doppelganger committing a murder. This makes him, and his latest love, a target of the killer. 

It was only a matter of time. With both being low-budget horror TV shows, shot in Canada only a few years apart, “Friday the 13th: The Series” and “Forever Knight” were bound to share some cast members eventually. Three years before co-starring as the police pathologist in love with a vampire cop, Catherine Disher would appear here as “Cathy.” (And in an episode where another major character has the last name “Knight,” no less.) Despite the previous two episodes depicting Ryan breaking Amish because he loved a girl so much, he's already got himself a new girlfriend that he seems quite close to. Much like Nick Knight and Natalie Lambert, Ryan and Cathy's love is doomed. Ryan even makes the observation that the relationships on this show always seem to end badly. Disher is an appealing performer and actually has decent chemistry with John D. Le May, making me wish they didn't kill her off half-way through the episode. They are certainly a more believable couple than him and the Reverend's daughter. 

While it still doesn't have anything to do with Jason Voorhees, “Double Exposure” does feature people being murdered with a machete. This is actually not the freakiest horror content in this episode. Instead, the mechanics of the duplicating camera are quite slimy. When the photo is put in the developing dish, it bubbles and smokes, producing an embryonic human form that slowly takes on the features of its house. This logic is followed through in the climax, when one of the “dupes” gets a hand chopped off and bleeds only developing fluid instead. It's a weird, gnarly special effect and goes a long way to making this episode memorable. Winston Knight also makes for a decent villain, playing up our innate tendency to not trust new caster. There's also something to how his duplicate longs to be a full-fledged human being. Are the copies some sort of manifestation of the Jungian shadow, repressed needs seeking personhood? I doubt anyone writing the episode thought that deeply on it but it's an interesting idea. This is a good one. [7/10]