Halloween 2026: September 24th

Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma (2026)

The golden age of the slasher movie was short-lived. By 1984, over-saturation had been reached, the style was burnt out, and Jason Voorhees was dead. They kept making them. They'll keep making them forever, because something about the subgenre seems to imprint on every subsequent generation of horror fans. Which is to say: It's been four decades since "Halloween" and "Friday the 13th" lit the fire, and three since "Scream" popularly deconstructed it, and people are still finding things to say about these movies. Whether the irony-enriched eighties slasher regurgitation premise is totally played out or not is irrelevant. A certain breed of filmmaker will keep thinking about it. Deeply personal reflections on media seems to be Jane Schoenbrun's thing. "We Are All Going to the World's Fair" and "I Saw the TV Glow" were the director's post-mortems on getting too deep into the internet and substituting real life experiences with television, respectively. Now "Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma" has this extremely distinctive voice considering the often-considered camp slasher framework. 

"Camp Miasma" was a popular eighties slasher film. It concerned Little Death, a transgender revenant wearing an air vent on their head and wielding a spear. The killer regularly rose from a lake to massacre the people at the summer camp next door. The original was a hit and beget a long line of sequels, until the premise was thoroughly run into the ground. Now, up-and-coming filmmaker Kris Williams has been contacted to pitch a reboot. Kris knows the studio singled her out because she's queer and they are hopeful she can untangle the "Camp Miasma" series from its problematic origins. She genuinely loves the films though. In particular, she's enamored of Billy Presley, the star of the original film that has since disappeared from public life. Kris tracks Billy down at her home, which turns out to be the camp grounds where the first movie was shot. Billy has a deep connection to "Camp Miasma" as well. Her and Kris explore what the film means to them, and their own sexuality, until the border between reality and fiction are totally blurred. 

The impression I got from Jane Schoenbrun's previous films is that they put a lot of themselves into the protagonists. A young person losing connection to reality as they go deeper into an internet rabbit hole and a pop culture-obsessed, deeply closeted loner perhaps represented dark "what-ifs" for the auteur. "Camp Miasma" is Schoenbrun's most personal work yet. By which I mean, Kris Williams definitely seems to be a self-insert for the director. Hannah Einbinder is even made up to look a bit like Schoenbrun. The plot thread of Kris being asked to make a "woke" reboot of a transphobic summer camp slasher, specifically because of their queer identity, makes me think Schoenbrun got asked to reboot "Sleepaway Camp" at some point. (Both that film and its beloved-by-me sequel are mentioned by name.) That must be weird, being offered a job only because your identity lines up with the murderous villain's. If "Camp Miasma" is a reflection of the director's feelings, Schoenbrun has little respect for typical Hollywood smoozers. Kris' agent and the execs are obsessed with meaningless buzz words like "origin story" and "elevated." While the "Queer Assistant" present is depicted as utterly apathetic. If brainless industry people are a target of the story, the script doesn't spare its protagonist either. Kris' past films that "explore queerness as monstrous otherness" and her obsessive film fandom are treated as immature defense mechanisms, to cover up real insecurities she feels about herself and sex. When asked to talk about herself, Kris talks about her films instead. As if that's all there is to her, as if cinema is more real than reality.

And maybe it is, at least for these characters. The film leans on the surreal borderland between the real and the imagined early on. As soon as Kris arrives at the camp, elaborate matte paintings are being used to create a sense of cinematic dreaminess. The brand names of junk food are highlighted, as if to the emphasize the importance of shiny, disposable commercial products to these people. Dipping sauce for chicken fingers is sensually lingered on, only the first of many scenes connecting food and sex. This is because, as the title indicates, this movie is almost entirely about sex. That's why the killer is Little Death, why they penetrate with a spear, and why they strikes as their victims are on the verge of orgasmic rapture. Some of these symbolic touches are obvious, even trite. But this is ultimately a film about how the pop culture we consume gives us the words to express our desires, our fantasies. The shadow play of the movies are absorbed as erotic nightmares, through which we can then describe our own thoughts and feelings. If the amount of Jason-themed erotica I've seen is any indication, Kris is far from the only person whose sexual awakening was entwined with an old horror movie. Finding sensual satisfaction from watching naked, stereotyped teenagers get killed is acknowledged as #Problematic but, the film seems to say, our fantasies tend to be a little fucked-up. That's why they only exist in dreams and on the big screen. 

It's an interesting, highly personal re-contextualization of the slasher concept.  Schoenbrun has said that the film is as much about learning to enjoy sex after transitioning as it is riffing on Jason movies. I exist in too cis of a head-space to, perhaps, understand that element. A sequence where Kris talks about watching a horror movie and wanting to be the fleeing bimbo on the screen is pretty obviously important. The symbolism of the spiraling, interlocking lines of Little Death's vent mask were a little lost on me. I'm sure someone with a degree in Gender Studies would have something to say about the discussion around the role watching and being watched, being both within and outside the body during sex, plays in the film. 

I don't know much about that kind of thing. What I do know lots about is eighties slasher movies. The opening credits depict a litany of poster art, VHS boxes, Fright Flicks-style trading cards, merchandise, and industry articles about the long-running series. Clearly, Schoenbrun is as faithful to the marketing aesthetic of the “Friday the 13th” series as they were to the look and feel of nineties television in “I Saw the TV Glow.” The first glimpses we get at the “Camp Miasma” films, a sequence where Billy is humping with her male co-star when Little Death is reflected in her eye, is striking. When we finally get an extended look at the film-within-the-film, the results are dishearteningly not as faithful. As much as the film draws specific cues from “Sleepaway Camp” or “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter,” the characters within the film are never less than utterly cartoonish. Including a female stoner with a huge mohawk, which feels a bit anachronistic for the early eighties. The sequence grows more exaggerated as it goes on, with every kill being followed by a massive geyser of blood. It is, simply put, quite bad, playing less like the creation of a loyal fan of the genre and more like a shitty “Saturday Night Live” sketch or something. The filmmaker clearly knew what the films they were paying homage to looked and felt like, so I can only assume that these moments of obnoxiously dumb parody are intentional. 

Moments this grating are especially baffling when other parts of the movie work so well. The filmmaker remains especially talented at unexpected needle drops, especially when pairing them with unexpectedly lyrical violence. The cinematography and visuals are interesting throughout.  Hannah Einbinder gives a thoughtful performance as Kris. Gillian Anderson adopts a kind of silly country twang as Billy, which takes some getting used to. However, she has fine chemistry with Einbinder and the acting choices eventually win me over. In other words, “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is messy, too self-aware at times, and doubtlessly self-indulgent. At first, I was disappointed in it. As far as recent self-aware “Friday the 13th” homages go, I preferred “In a Violent Nature.” However, thinking about it, the film captivated me for its entire runtime and transported me. I suspect I will think about it a lot more in the future. [7/10]

Cry of the Banshee (1970)

You can get a good sense of the shifts the horror genre went through as the sixties became the seventies by looking at Vincent Price's career. The previous decade was defined by the classy chills of the Poe Cycle. Ten years later, his trademark films were about mad villains seeking elaborate, often gory revenge on those who wronged him. The transitional film between these two styles was, of course, the intense and violent "Witchfinder General." American International Pictures would attempt to replicate that one's success a few times. Most directly with 1970's "Cry of the Banshee." It was Price's 100th film and that would normally be a cause for celebration. Unfortunately, he hated making the movie, often citing it as one of the least favorite of his career. His relationship with AIP and Sam Z. Arkoff was on the skids at the time, no doubt contributing to Price's ire towards the film. All of this makes "Cry of the Banshee," despite its low standing in its star's career, something of the end of an era. It is often cited as Price's last gothic horror film, which is close enough to the truth. 

Lord Whitman is a rich magistrate, his grand manner overlooking a simple village. He is obsessed with stamping out the local witch community. Alongside his two sons and henchman Bully Boy, he often raids and terrorizes sabbaths and rituals. One such coven is led by a witch named Oona, who places a curse on the Whitman family in retaliation. An otherworldly spirit takes over the body of Roderick, the servant boy that both Whitman's daughter and wife are sleeping with. The supernatural activity increases: The eerie howl of a banshee is heard outside the castle at night. A demonic black dog begins to attack the locals. An inhuman beast prowls the grounds. Both Lady Patricia and Maureen Whitman have visions of madness. The Lord only increases his witch-hunting shenanigans in response to these events, seeking out Oona to end the curse.

Scholars of folk horror, or at least the people who made that long-ass documentary on the subject, refer to the three films that kicked off the modern iteration of the subgenre as the Unholy Trinity: 1968's "Witchfinder General," 1971's "Blood on Satan's Claws" and "The Wicker Man." "Cry of the Banshee" represents something of the bridge between those first two titles. It's a blatant imitation of Michael Reeves' film, featuring Vincent Price again in period garb and performing medieval torture on supposed witches. There's a branding, some stocks, a burning at the stake, and a spin on the breaking wheel. There's also some rape and coerced confessions. The rebellious witches frolic in nature with flowers in their hair, clearly drawing parallels to the hippy movement. The end credits go so far as to separate the cast into two opposing groups, the Witches and "The Establishment." "Blood on Satan's Claws" was going for more of a Manson family vibe than a flower power angle but both movies clearly look to the witch hunts of the past as a way to comment generational conflict of the early seventies.

Unfortunately, “Cry of the Banshees” seems uncertain about which side of this conflict we should root for. Now, obviously Lord Whitman and his raping, torturing cohorts are vile people who deserve our scorn. His wife and daughter, meanwhile, are largely innocent bystanders caught up in things. While the film certainly focuses on the cruelty of the witchhunters, it also takes place in a world where witchcraft is real and dark, magical powers do exist. This muddles the waters a bit. It's also simply another symptom of the film's inability to focus on one idea for too long at all. “Cry of the Banshee” has entirely too many characters, few of them being that distinct from one another or memorable. Forgive me if I couldn't always recall which of these guys is Whitman's evil son and which is merely his evil henchman. At one point, a random grave robber wanders into the story to drop some key information before wandering back out. The nature of the supernatural threat changes often too. The movie cycles through witchy curses, a black-coated demon dog, and an off-screen unearthly shriek before finally deciding on becoming a werewolf movie in the last third. It's all over-the-place, unfocused, and often hard to follow.

That doesn't leave the viewer much to enjoy. The interrogation and execution sequences lack the brutality and indignation of “Witchhunter General's” similar scenes. None of the film's other horrors are that intriguing. “Cry of the Banshee” was filmed at W.S. Gilbert's manor and that's a cool location. There's some okay use of shadow and colors. The glimpses we get of the werewolf make it look like a moldy-faced gorilla costume, making the choice to keep it to the shadows likely for the best. Price might not have thought much of the project but he is still doing his best to make it entertaining. There's a cool shot of him dressed like Henry VIII in that famous portrait. He doesn't play the character as only a cold-blooded villain, allowing the lord to show his fondness for his family and his steadfast belief in his own, wicked quest. Mostly, Price is at his campy best when showing wide-eyed panic and fear. Also, he gets to wield a blunderbust in a few scenes and that's fun too. 

“Cry of the Banshee” exists in two versions. Director Gordon Hessler's original cut runs 91 minutes long, features an animated opening credits sequence from Terry Gilliam, and a score by Wilfred Josephs. Before releasing the movie domestically, A.I.P cut out most of the nudity and some of the violence in order to receive a GP rating, taking the runtime down to 87 minutes. They also ditched the animated opening and had Les Baxter compose a new score. (AIP also slapped Edgar Allen Poe's name all over the posters, utilizing the same trick that turn “Witchfinder General” into “The Conqueror Worm” by briefly including some lines from one of Poe's poems – in this case, “The Bells” – at the beginning.) Neither cut of the movie features a banshee at all. Which is kind of disappointing. That would be a cool, underutilized monster to built a film around. While the director's cut is a slight improvement over the U.S. edit, “Cry of the Banshee” is subpar in any version. Vincent Price's theatrical vamping has elevated middling material before but this one mostly feels reheated from superior work. Also, the devil dog looks a little like my dog, presumably because all black German Shepherd mixes kind of look the same. [5/10] 

The Ray Bradbury Theater: A Sound of Thunder

It’s probably the most famous of Ray Bradbury’s short stories, to the point that it would eventually receive a (very bad) feature film adaptation. The premise, of dinosaurs and time travel from a futuristic society, are also quite ambitious. That’s probably why the low-budget “Ray Bradbury Theater” didn’t adapt it until the third season. For those who don’t know, “A Sound of Thunder” begins in a sci-fi future, where time travel has become common technology. Following an election where a fascist dictator nearly became President, big game hunter Eckels heads into the offices of Time Safari Inc. He pays an exorbitant cost to go back in time to the Mesozoic and hunt a T-Rex. His guide Travis gives him strict rules to follow: He must stay aboard a floating platform and can only kill animals already destined to die. Any other disturbance to the environment may have horrifying effects on the future... Rules that Eckels inevitably breaks. 

I honestly don’t know how famous Bradbury’s story is among people who don’t read science fiction. However, the central twist the story leads up to – that seemingly the most inconsequential of changes in the past can unknowingly have enormous effects on the future – has long since entered common knowledge. Bradbury’s story isn’t the origin of the term the butterfly effect but is often mistaken as such, because Ray also used a mere Lepidoptera as the symbol of how little things can set off chain reactions with massive consequences. Unfortunately, this has the downside of making any adaptation of “A Sound of Thunder” leading to a foregone conclusion. The minute the story introduces the idea of a strict set of rules that must be follow in the past, it’s only a matter of time before they are broken and birth a strange new future. 

If anything, I think the future that the death of one butterfly 65 million years ago sets off might be too similar to the one already established. The future the cast arrives in at the end isn’t that different from the one they left. It’s effectively the same except for two key changes: Language and writing is kind of fucked-up and the heavily foreshadowed crypto-fascist running for president has won, birthing an era of American Nazism. (Something that, ya know, could never happen.) Anything more elaborate than that was also probably outside the show’s budget. It’s also faithful to Bradbury’s story, likely because he wrote the script himself. Still, more extreme changes would probably be a better, more surprising illustration of simply how much that little butterfly – a species that really does date back to the Cretaceous – actually did matter to history. 

Then again, maybe Ray accidentally predicating the butterfly effect isn’t the point of the story so much. “A Sound of Thunder” is mostly a simple tale of hubris. Its big game hunter goes in search of dinosaurs because he believes he’s killed every dangerous creature alive. The sight of the tyrant lizard king, however, sends him into a panic. It turns out there is something bigger than himself and the idea terrifies him, leading to his downfall. I’m always happy to see shitty hunter types get what’s coming to them. Kiel Martin plays Eckles as properly haughty and then spineless, a good contrast to the ice cold but fearless take John Bach provides to his guide. The idea is simple: History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man. A focus on that moral over what ends up happening would’ve resulted in a more satisfying pay-off, I think. Or perhaps that’s simply my familiarity with the source material and this episode featuring a mediocre animatronic dinosaur influencing my opinion. Still a better take on the story than the 2005 movie. [6/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Vanity's Mirror

Mirrors are objects loaded with symbolism, certainly when it comes to the topic of vanity, which makes it unsurprising that “Friday the 13th: The Series” would devote an episode to one. This one begins with a ragamuffin flower vendor attempting to convince the guy in a nice suit that buys roses from her every day to love her. When that doesn’t work, she reflects light from a compact in his eyes, magically inducing a powerful infatuation. This has deadly consequences. In the aftermath, homely high school student Helen Mackie picks up the compact. She quickly deduces its magical mechanics. She uses it to make the jocko friends of her sister’s handsome boyfriend – who, of course, Helen has a crush on – fall in love with her. And this show being what it is, all of those sudden love spells result in death too. When Micki showing up at the girl’s door is unsuccessful, Ryan goes undercover as a high school student to find out more. 

Auditioning for the part of an “ugly” girl, only to win the role, must be demoralizing for an actor. That unfortunately sets up what is the rather fucked moral of “Vanity’s Mirror.” The script never considers that unfair social pressures placed on young women to make themselves stand up to an impossible beauty standard might deserve any blame for this situation. The woman in the first scene is simply a villain. Helen is not much more sympathetic. A few hours after figuring out how the mirror works, she is already callously engineering the gruesome death of somebody. She becomes fully ruthless right after that, never once being shocked or unsettled by the violence she is reaping. The unusually down-beat end of the episode is similarly pitiless to the girl. This one ends without any sense of “justice” being served and seems to come to the conclusion of “Well, some people are just ugly, inside and out, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” 

I, for one, do not agree with this. I believe it’s cartoonishly unfair to a sixteen year old girl to turn her into a remorseless serial killer and then off her in such a callous way, for the crime of being “ugly.” Whatever happened to the idea of beauty being subjective? Let’s not take the side of the high school bullies here. I get that “Friday the 13th: The Series” only has forty-five minutes to tell its story and is, on the best of days, still a fairly dumb or silly show. However, this one left me feeling depressed in a decidedly un-satisfying fashion. Using demonically infused mundane objects to make someone fall in love with you is bad, as “Obsession” already hammered into our heads this season. But, I dunno, maybe making a young girl with an ungainly nose and some acme into a serial killer simply because she has a crush on her sister’s boyfriend is kind of shitty. 

Outside of all of that, I suppose this episode has one or two moments. The instantly recognizable Zack Ward – not exactly a traditionally handsome fella himself and the episode doesn’t shit on his looks – appears as the first of Helen’s victims. His demise occurs off-screen but, by the standards of broadcast television in the eighties, is still quite gruesome. The second death is bloody too. Nebulous as its connection to Jason’s rampages was, this show was definitely doing its best to bring some Hollywood style gore to the small screen. However, the plot point of Ryan going undercover as a teenager is laughable. Moreover, he spends a large fraction of this episode unconscious on a floor. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is an episode of “Friday the 13th” where the Curious Goods crew have almost no effect on the plot at all. I guess Jack does save the sister from an unfortunate death trap but, otherwise, all of these events would have played out in the exact same manner without their involvement. Odd episode. [5/10]

Halloween 2026: September 23rd

Evil Dead Burn (2026)

For a many years, “Evil Dead 4” was high on the list of sequels fans were still clamoring for. Sam Raimi was busy making “Spider-Man” and the public had stubbornly refused to make Bruce Campbell a huge star, so it seemed like a long-shot for years. That was well before our franchise-driven future, where it seems any semi-recognizable “I.P.” gets happily exploited. Not only have we had the long-requested “Evil Dead 4” with Ash back – as a three season television series anyway – but we're now on the sixth theatrical entry in the franchise. The success of “Evil Dead Rise” saw Sam, Bruce, and Robert Tappert shepherding a promising young filmmaker into the franchise, allowing him a lot of freedom to expand the boundaries of the series. This is a strategy they intend on repeating. Sébastien Vaniček, based on the strength of his spider thriller “Infested,” got selected to make the next “Evil Dead.” While “Rise” was enthusiastically received by fans and audiences, “Evil Dead Burn” proved much more divisive. Now, it's my turn to weigh in. 

Will Price and his French wife, Alice, celebrate the birthday of his little brother, Joseph. Alice and Will's relationship is volatile and the two argue outside the night club, Will leaving in a huff. It's the last time they'll speak, as Will crashes his car into a Deadite and is consumed by the flames of the wreck. Alice attends the funeral with Will's family. Including his parents, Susan and Edgar, and his senile grandmother, Polly. At the home afterwards, the grieving family notices that Edgar is acting strangely, confrontational and violent. Alice soon learns that her late husband's family had a history of black magic and devilry. Their grandfather studied the Necronomicon and uncovered a Kandarian dagger capable of banishing the evil spirits back to Hell. The Evil Dead are aware of this connection, seeking to destroy the family before the weapon is found again. Alice is soon forced to fight for survival. 

“Evil Dead Rise” would reinvent the franchise by doing two simple things: First, moving the premise out of the isolated cabin and into an urban apartment building. Secondly, it left Ash behind and place the possessing spirits within a neurotic family. “Burn” follows this same formula but in, perhaps, too literal a fashion. Once again, we have a troubled young woman as our heroine. She is an outsider within her own family. Bitterness lingers, Will's family blaming his widow for unsettling his life and leading to this tragedy. As in “Rise,” the Kandarian demons are physical manifestations of the simmering anxieties within this group. This is made depressingly literal at times, the possessed Price family outright blaming Alice for Will's death. “Burn” also copies “Rise's” structure to a slavish degree. It continues the pattern of a slow infection of those around our heroine, building towards a confrontation with a “final boss” of a threat. The sequel goes so far as to double-down on “Rise's” habit of using unexpected household objects as implements of violence. 

I ended up liking “Evil Dead Rise” a lot more than expected because I became surprisingly invested in the plight of Beth, Ellie, and Ellie's kids. These characters had quirks, hobbies, personalities outside of their immediate roles in the story. “Burn” is unable to flesh-out its group in a similar fashion. Joseph is a would-be writer, something he's not yet found success at. Will's business of owning a restaurant is brought up a few times. However, the family is mostly defined by one simple characteristic each. Such as father Edgar's anger, grandmother Polly's dementia, or mom Susan's desperation to make it all work. Some of the cast, like Joseph's girlfriend, don't get that much. At the center is Alice, whose backstory is wrapped up in the abuse she suffered at her late husband's hands. Souheila Yacoub seems like a capable enough actress but the script lets her down. Alice's arc, of overcoming lingering trauma and dispelling personal and literal demons, feels extremely old hat after a decade of trauma-core horror films.

Focusing the film on this element, on a grieving family falling apart and directing all their pain at an outsider, results in a prickly ensemble. Everyone is hurting in “Evil Dead Burn” and so most of them are acting like assholes. That seems to be a statement of purpose for the film, the off-putting characters establishing an aggressive tone. The violence, naturally, follows that lead. There's a lot of splattering blood and dismemberment in “Burn.” Occasionally, the sequel finds some properly cringe-inducing pain. Fingers slammed in a car door, rebar through the meaty side of someone's leg, or a hard landing on a set of knives are effectively brutal. However, “Burn's” gory shenanigans are so persistent, that it soon looses much of its flare. When you start with the punishing visual of the family dog getting repeatedly jabbed in the eye with a fork, it establishes a mean-spirited tone that is not conducive to the harsh but playful mayhem of this series.

That might be my biggest issue with “Evil Dead Burn.” Vaniček and cinematographer Phillip Lozano throw in a few Raimi-esque tracking shots. There's the expected trick of the camera assuming the perspective of an otherworldly force as it swoops through the air towards someone. That includes a shot careening over a moving car. Vaniček includes a few other creative camera angles, such as the spinning sequence that inverts gravity or a neat aerial shot. Unfortunately, there's a distressing drabness to much of “Burn's” look. The film goes with the same overcast, overwhelmingly grey coloration that makes far too many horror movies feel lifeless. When “Burn” came out this past summer, I saw some folks bemoaning how “Evil Dead” movies weren't funny anymore. “Burn” actually does make a couple of attempts to recapture the chaotic comedy of Raimi's work. I like an atypical blunt object being used to bludgeon someone in one scene or the weirdness of, say, a lingering close-up on a big twerking ass. However, looser touches like this stand in stark contrast to the otherwise dour atmosphere.

There's one moment in “Evil Dead Burn” that I liked a lot. It's a scene wherein the unresolved pain between mother and daughter shifts into serenity. Obviously, this is one of the deceptive visions the Deadites tend to employ to trick their victims. However, the idea that Luciferian entities actually could be inviting to some people would be a new idea for the franchise. Instead, this is a brief moment in-between more gory set-pieces and route psycho-drama. My final verdict is that “Evil Dead Burn” simply doesn't feel enough like an “Evil Dead” movie. Its last act, in which the heroine is pitted against a CGI monster, feels especially uninspired. This is a shame, as I thought “Infested” was quite good and was hoping the new direction for the “Evil Dead” series would keep working. The next installment is already lined-up and I really liked the last movie that director made too, so hopefully this is not a pattern setting in. [5/10] 

Baxter (1989)

Very little information circulates about the author Ken Greenhall. We know that he was born in 1928 and that he died in 2014. That he was the son of English immigrants and a retired professor. What we most know about him is evident in his work: Six novels, published between 1976 and 1998. Some were printed under his own name and some under his mother's name, Jessica Hamilton. Almost all of them deal with evil lurking in innocent seeming packages, coldly commenting on the "normal" world they observe. Such as a teenage witch in "Elizabeth," a caretaker who murders her elderly wards in "The Companion," or everyday psychopaths playing a game of homicide in the small town of "Death Chain." (Or, for a similar but less malicious example, an African slave taken into white high society in "Lenoir," his final publication.) Greenhall saw little success in his lifetime. His books remained out-of-print until a few were rediscovered by Will Erricksson of "Too Much Horror Fiction" and reprinted as part of his and Grady Hendrix's Paperbacks from Hell imprint. Despite his obscurity at the time, one of Greenhall's titles would be adapted to film. His 1977 novella "Hell Hound" would become the 1989 French film, "Baxter." It has remained something of a cult classic over the years and is far more famous than the book that inspired it. 

The title character is a pure white bull terrier, that dog breed with the ellipsoidal heads, squinty eyes, pointy ears, and stocky bodies. Baxter is a mere canine but his thoughts are complex. He observes the human world, often not understanding man's behavior and frustrated by the roles they place upon him. He desires to be outside, to hunt and kill, but his first owner is a reclusive old lady. At first she is afraid of him but later demands he always be by her side. Once Baxter has had enough, he trips the woman and sends her falling down the stairs to her death. Baxter is next adopted by a newly-wed couple, who give him raw meat and play with him outside often. That is until they have a child, Baxter feeling resentment and jealousy over the new "Creature" who has usurped his place. After this situation escalates badly, Baxter finds his way to the home of Carl. Carl is thirteen year old boy with an unhealthy fixation on Adolf Hitler and especially upon his last days in the bunker. The two complement each other at first but soon Carl pushes Baxter too far. 

Most reviews refer to “Baxter” as being a story narrated by a dog that is also a sociopath. I'm not so sure. Humans inevitably tend to anthropomorphize animals, especially the ones they spend the most time with. We pamper our pets, tell them we love them, treat them like family. We assume that they feel the same way about us. However, a dog is still an animal. Its consciousness is not like that of a man's. They have no sense of morality, of social boundaries. These are human inventions. A dog is still running the firmware of a predator, driven to hunt and kill to survive. “Baxter” does a good job of reflecting this, of displaying how its canine protagonist relates to other living things through smells, emotion, and body language. Is Baxter a sociopath because he wants to kill the smothering, neurotic old woman who insists he take a bath with her, despite him making it very clear he doesn't want to do that? Or is he simply being a dog? Through these ideas, the film asks how to consider how well we actually know our beloved animal companions. 

“Baxter” goes a good job of reminding us of this, that dogs are instinctual. They must dig in the dirt, roll around in the grass, sniff everything. The girl next door to Carl has a Cocker Spanial that's in heat. Baxter has contempt for things smaller, weaker, squishier than him. Babies and females do not have his predatory impulse. Despite that, he can not stop himself from rutting with the bitch, feeling disgusted as he does it. He's more like the people around them than he would care to admit. His first owner is an old woman, isolated and alone. She is in need of companionship and sees that in the dog cohabiting with her. The married couple are similarly screwing all the time, sometimes caused to act on these hormonal needs when it's not convenient. When the baby – the “Creature” as Baxter calls it – arrives, they are similarly hardwired to protect and care for it. Are all living things, dogs and humans alike, slaves to their natural inclinations? If so, can we blame anyone for simply doing what they are programmed to do?

This question becomes especially brain-tingling when you look at the actions of little Carl. The kid is not like other boys, obviously. Hyper-fixating on Hitler and the details of his suicide, to the point that he's compelled to built a replica of the Führerbunker in his dad's junk yard, would qualify as concerning behavior to most. It's evident from the moment we meet Carl that his morbid fascination will bend towards attempted homicide eventually. Carl also gives Baxter something else he's genetically predisposed towards that nobody else does. Dogs have been bred for centuries to take commands from humans. The need for obedience is almost literally in their blood. Carl tells the dog to heel, trains him to act on this built-in tendency to serve a master. More than once, Baxter describes this not only as unavoidable but pleasurable. He's happy to do it. This becomes especially morbid in the final scene, where the dog's need to follow orders acts against his own interest. If obedience is in Baxter's nature, and all of us are victims of instinct, are people designed to follow orders too? When contrasted with Carl's Hitler obsession, I wonder if “Baxter” isn't one of those high-minded dissertation on fascism that European filmmakers love so much. 

“Baxter” usually gets classified as a horror film or pitch black comedy. I'm not sure what other genre it would comfortably fit into, equal parts too grim and absurd to be anything else. However, the emotion the film mostly made me feel was sad. Baxter's opening lines are about darkness, the blank non-existence from which we all emerge and all return to. He spends his life misunderstood, considered a harmless pet when he's hungry for blood or reduced to an accessory when he's made to chomp on rats. While Carl and Baxter can operate on a similar wavelength for a while, it is destined to fail. The dog is, ultimately, alone in this world. As loathsome a character as Carl is, I couldn't help but feel kind of bad for him too. He doesn't want to be a little bastard as much as the bull terrier doesn't want to be a dog. As the film heads towards its unavoidable and deeply sad ending, the feelings I had were more tragic than anything else.

The result is a movie that entombs the viewer in a chilled, distressing feeling. “Baxter” is surrounded by the animal's interior monologue, provided by the exact and calmly calculating Maxime Leroux. That sense of isolation and loveless hunger for violence spreads to the viewer eventually too. Another reason I might have found the movie sad is because there are several scenes where the actors are very obviously, actually hitting the dog. I don't like that. Don't hurt animals. Dogs don't know what a movie or acting is. Baxter might be unhinged in his blood lust but I'm sure the real bull terriers playing him was a very good boy, who didn't deserve any of that. But there I go anthropomorphize a creature that is basically still a wolf. I suppose my point is that “Baxter” is a very thoughtful, interesting motion picture if you can accept certain aspects of it. [7/10]

The Hitchhiker: When Morning Comes

“The Hitchhiker” was HBO's first dramatic original program and you can tell they were cautious about whether or not it would work. The show's first season is all of three episodes long, a trilogy of try-out installments that could easily be repackaged as a movie if the project went no further. Obviously, “The Hitchhiker” did go on to a successful run but one element from the “pilot” season did not. Before Paige Fletcher donned the denim and the mullet, the travelling host was played by Nicholas Campbell. After the show went to series, these host segments were re-filmed with Fletcher, casting Campbell's brief tenure as “The Hitchhiker” into the void. Luckily, static-filled VHS recordings still survive. Every previous episodes of this show I've covered have been from the Fletcher seasons, so this is my first exposure to Nic Campbell as the Hitchhiker. As absurdly easy as it is to make fun of the faux-philosophical nonsense Paige Fletcher delivered in the role, he definitely has a lot more charisma and screen presence than the non-entity that is Campbell. 

But what about “When Morning Comes?” Despite looking like if Casey Kasem had been left to tan in the sun, music executive Bob Ames is able to charm any lady out of her pants. He's driving to an isolated cabin he owns and arrives in a rainstorm. To his surprise, he finds a shapely blonde undressed before his fire place. She introduces herself as Cat and explains that she was simply seeking shelter in the storm. It's not long before the two are humping on the bear-skin rug. During their post-coital cuddling, Bob hears a news report on the radio: A female serial killer, known for slashing the throats of her lovers, has escaped a near-by mental institute. After hearing that she matches Cat's description – and noticing her odd behavior, which seems fixated on animals hunting other animals – Bob gets proactive. He fights back against the woman before she can kill him.... But is she really the killer or is this all a big misunderstanding?

Most episodes of “The Hitchhiker” play like a dumber, hornier version of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents.” This means the program is often attempting to misdirect the viewer, when it's not putting some bare T&A on-screen. “When Morning Comes” does both. It plays a game with the audience, asking us to double-guess what does and does not seem like the most obvious turn of events. Bob having unknowingly shacked up with a femme fatale is the immediate observation. Despite her extremely suspicious behavior, Cat denies his allegations. Alright, so is she really a murderer or is Bob violently leaping to the wrong conclusion? It's pretty obvious which is the likelier event. However, “When Morning Comes” actually has a third, dumber ending in mind. It's such a silly turn-of-events that I have to assume it's at least partially supposed to be funny.

The writing is, overall, a bit goofy. Basing the entire episode around the hoary old “escaped lunatic” set-up suggests a certain inability to resist cliches. Given the much lower number of female serial killers, making the murderer a woman makes the situation more improbable. Bob strikes me as an unlikely ladies' man, especially considering he successfully uses the same line twice. Despite these short-comings, I actually did like “When Morning Comes.” The title-lending chase sequence, the two parties facing off against each other in the early morning woods, is a decently suspenseful sequence. As for the more puerile interests, Pamela Bowman as Cat fills the nudity quota that HBO surely demanded and, I'll admit, that too is a highlight of the episode. [7/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Bedazzled

Most episodes of “Friday the 13th: The Series” revolve around the nature of whatever the chosen Artifact of Doom is. You can't write a story about a cursed magician's box and not have the episode be about stage magic. However, one suspects that sometimes the show's writers had a general set-up for an episode and combined it with whatever evil object was at the top of the idea pile. I bring this up because it describes “Bedazzled.” This episode sticks Micki and the ten year old boy she's baby-sitting into a home invasion scenario. A hurricane has blown in and Ryan and Jack are visiting a fortune teller's convention. A pair of bad guys pose as telephone repair men to make it inside. They terrorize and tie up the residents, as they seek out the demonic doodad that was recently taken from them. 

In this case, that item is a magical old lantern. Its light leads the wielder to buried or sunken treasure. In return, the lantern must shine its light on a human being, who are reduced to ash by the ray. But that's not all that important. “Bedazzled” featuring a deadly ship's lantern is relevant in the first scene, when the heroic trio steal it off the bad guy's vessal. Mostly, the only way it effects the story is by making the villain a salty sea dog. I don't know why the writers' room went in that direction. However, I must say that Alan Jordan is fittingly sleazy and intimidating as this murderous pirate. He's the type of on-screen baddie who is so focused on his goal – getting that damn lantern back – that he has no qualms about taking human life. When he strangles the actual phone repairman with a cord, he follows it up with a one-liner about how “they got disconnected.” 

The Curious Goods antique's shop is still the show's strongest setting, so I don't object to an episode being based in it. Micki makes a decent final girl, believable as both someone who could be caught off-guard but still be brave enough to fight back. The kid's main contribution to the story is that he scares Micki by jumping out in a weird tribal mask. That jump-scare is another indicator that “The Series” is drawing from the proper “Friday the 13th” films. There's a fairly bloody impaling with a spear and a dead body playing peek-a-boo at one point. Naturally, the villain gets an ironically gruesome final fate. By the way, the title is especially meaningless. If you do an image search for “Friday the 13th” and “Bedazzled,” most of the results are of rhinestone encrusted hockey masks. [7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 22nd

Iron Lung (2026)

Up until very recently, I had no idea what a "Markiplier" was. I had seen the name bandied about in discussions of popular YouTubers and LetsPlayers. However, I don't find watching other people play video games to be that interesting so never investigated further. When I started to see buzz over "Iron Lung," a movie this Markiplier fella had made, I assumed it would be another sloppy vanity project by a random internet celebrity with little actual talent. When "Iron Lung's" release approached earlier this year, the director/writer/star's extensive fan base launched a campaign to expand the initial planned distribution of only 60 theaters to as many as possible. "Iron Lung" would instead play in over 4000 American theaters, a wide release by any estimation, and become a surprise box office hit. A genuine grass roots, independent success like that certainly caught my attention. Then some folks whose opinions I trust stated the movie was actually good too. Once I learned the claim that the film broke the record for most fake blood used in any horror picture was apparently legitimate I had to see it, to maintain genre nerd cred or something. Also my wife wanted to watch it so here we go, diving into "Iron Lung."

In addition to my ignorance about the film's star, I am also unfamiliar with the indie video game it is an adaptation of. This is my best estimation of the plot of "Iron Lung," as far as I could parse it: The story is set in the far future, after mankind has colonized space. Furthermore, it's set after a mysterious apocalypse known as the Quiet Rapture has wiped out most of humanity. On an alien moon covered with a sea of blood, a lone convict has been tasked with piloting a rickety submarine into the red depths. He receives orders from officials above, who are directing him to snap photographs of the ocean floor. It seems he is expected to find something, though is not told what exactly. What he does seem to find is a massive skeleton of an unknown alien life form. If he retrieves part of the bones and brings it to the surface, he'll supposedly be granted his freedom. As the journey goes on, we learn more about the pilot's backstory, the events surrounding the Quiet Rapture, more details about this mission, and that the apparent "skeleton" is actually very much alive. 

Being in unknown territory here myself, I can't truly rate "Iron Lung" as a take on an obscure, lore-heavy video game nor as "the Markiplier movie." However, I am pretty familiar with single location horror films. Considering the popularity of the enclosed space thriller, I'm surprised nobody has tried to make a movie set aboard a tiny submarine before. Certain recent events have shown how perilous such a journey is and it seems like a premise ripe with horror. In that regard, I think "Iron Lung" does a good job. The title comes from the nickname for the sub. It's a fitting description of a cramped, purely industrial vehicle filled with low-tech meters, clunky controls, analog monitors, and glowing buttons. The protagonist's only link to the surface world is a shitty radio speaker. His only peek at what's around him are the flashes captured by that giant x-ray camera, which provide vague hints at best. Save for a few flashbacks, "Iron Lung" rarely leaves this setting. Meaning the viewer is trapped in here too, with only slightly less context than the pilot. The danger becomes apparent immediately, as mechanical warnings hint at a limited oxygen supply and the overall rough quality of the submarine seems destined to fail at any point. Deep sea diving is scary to begin with. "Iron Lung" further ups the stakes by making the dive into a sea of blood, upon an unstable world, aboard a vessel clearly made from whatever materials were available. I don't think the script had to include a Lovecraftian eldritch abomination or the fate of the human race beyond that but it shows "Iron Lung's" commitment to being a claustrophobic horror experience. 

That commitment doesn't mean much if we don't care about the hero or the story though. Alright, so how does this Markiplier guy do as a filmmaker and actor? "Iron Lung" is well shot. Cinematographer Philip Roy manages to make the small space cinematic, without sacrificing how uncomfortable it is for the protagonist. The "used future" aesthetic is clearly indebted to "Alien" but the effects are still well done. Moreover, the low, ominous lighting and threat of blood dripping into the interior keeps things creepy. The blurry photographs we get of whatever is hunting the submarine are effective. They create an impression of a weird, giant, angler fish-like threat while still leaving plenty of room for the imagination to elaborate. The script does a good job of emphasizing how bleak this situation is. By slowly revealing more details about why the pilot is a prisoner, about what he did that was so atrocious, the film creates a properly hopeless feeling. This is a good setting for a story about the human spirit to fight and survive, no matter how uneven the odds. And Mark "Iplier" Fischbach is a functional leading man. He reminds me of a young Keanu Reeves and I mean that as a compliment. I don't know if he sells the depth of emotion and passion the part was calling for. I'm also not sure if he is compelling enough a presence to anchor an entire movie. However, I've also seen way less convincing performances from other would-be auteurs, so kudos for what the guy pulls off. 

The places where "Iron Lung" falls behind a bit are more standard. Namely, narrative coherence and pacing. The movie is over two hours long. This is largely thank to a lengthy sequence in the middle where the pilot is adrift in an unknown cave system, trying to navigate his way out. The film can never make it entirely clear how he figures out exactly where he is or where he is going. It seems to involve a lot of math and lines drawn on a graph. Furthermore, this sequence is also where the protagonist starts to hallucinate, always a dicey way to keep an isolated, mostly single character story moving. These scenes drag the forward momentum of the film down. They also seem to exist mostly to expand on the back story. Despite the extensive peeks we get at what has happened before these events and its ramifications for the rest of the universe, I still didn't have a clear idea of a lot of the plot details until I read a plot synopsis. I think all the things the film does well could have been done without the elaborate sci-fi backstory or far-out alien setting. (Though the cool factor of a "sea of blood" does count for something.) I do think some of these flaws are inherited from a style of source material heavy on "environmental storytelling" and an emphasis on mythos you can fill a fan wiki with. "Five Nights at Freddy's" and its consequences have been a disaster for the horror genre or something. 

Overall, I'm inclined to say my impression of "Iron Lung" is a mostly positive one. Not everything the story wants to get across is clear. However, perhaps that is fitting. As with past low budget homage to Lovecraft, "The Outwaters," I think the audience being as clueless as to what is happening as the protagonist becomes a good way to properly convey the disorientating aspect of cosmic horror. We might have been intended to take away more from "Iron Lung" but what I got is that this is a guy of average intelligence having a deep sea encounter with some bizarre, inhuman intelligence who seems to regard us puny flesh-bags with contempt. A more elaborate update of Howard Phillip's "Dagon," in other words. There's also some grisly body horror effects as the film goes on, the submarine's pipes and steel seemingly being replaced with veins and flesh. That idea is taken to some nicely gruesome places before the end. I didn't understand why all these things were happening but I thought they were interesting. It comes closer than some to capturing what is actually interesting about this subgenre to me. 

If there's been no other lesson we can take away from the horror hits of 2026, it's that we better get used to tomorrow's hot directors starting off as today's Youtuber. I don't know if Fischbach has the technical talent of some of these similar success stories. Mistakes are made here and they are of the type that might be more intrinsic than formal. A guy supported by millions of enthusiastic fans online, instead of fellow editors and artisans making informed decisions, is probably always going to make something that is too long or too invested in its own concepts. At the same time, I have to admire his chutzpah in getting his movie in front of people. If filmmakers wanna leverage the following they've built up through making faces at video game footage, so be it. "Iron Lung" ain't bad and even does some things well. [7/10]

Bridge to Nowhere (1986)

In the Whanganui National Park, of New Zealand's North Island, resides the Mangapurua Gorge and the stream that runs through it. In 1917, the government attempted to turn the surrounding land into farms for soldiers returning home from World War I. In the thirties, a 130 foot long concrete bridge was constructed across the gorge. The intention was to eventually build connecting roads on either side, to create vehicular access to nearby ports. However, the remoteness of the area and the soil's inability to support crops doomed the settlement. Following a major flood in 1942, the project was abandoned altogether. The bush reclaimed the land and consumed most signs that people once lived and worked there... Except for that bridge, which still stands, unlinked to any roads or paths. People call it the Bridge to Nowhere and it's a popular tourist attraction for hikers and mountain bikers. It is also, you might recognize just from the sounds of it, a great location for a horror movie. American screenwriter Bill Baer, producer Larry Parr, and beloved New Zealand character actor Ian Mune thought the same thing. With Mune directing, "Bridge to Nowhere" came together as a modest thriller in 1986. Much like the farmlands that birthed it, the movie has mostly fallen into obscurity save for adventurous types willing to hunt it down. 

Five youths set out for a weekend excursion into the New Zealand wilderness, with the titular bridge being their primary destination. Tanya and her quiet brother, Carl, leave following an argument with their parents. They are joined by Tanya's rowdy boyfriend, Leon, and two additional friends, couple Julia and Gray. The group expects to be alone with nature on this trip but soon discover this is not the case. Mac, an isolated cattle farmer who lives with a much younger girl named Lise, works and lives nearby. After Leon attempts to shoot one of Mac's cows, tensions start to flare between them. After Leon tries to assault Tanya, he flees into the woods and discovers Mac's cabin... And spies on Mac and Lise in a romantic moment. A fight ensues, violence following. Soon, Mac is pursuing Tanya and her friends across the forest. He's determined to eliminate any witnesses to his crime, tracking the kids with his hunting dogs and picking them off one by one with his rifle.

On paper, “Bridge to Nowhere” reads essentially like a hybrid of “Deliverance” and a slasher movie. It has the same set-up, of a group of suburbanites heading into the wilderness for a vacation and running afoul of the locals. Mac is not quite a depraved hillbilly type. At first, I thought Lise might be his daughter, which would've made the revelation of their sexual relationship fit that stereotype. Instead, apparently they are just a couple with a visible age gap. Meanwhile, the cast of characters are all youths, still navigating their identities and social boundaries. Essentially, the film sticks characters you could find in “Just Before Dawn” or “Without Warning” into a “Hunter's Blood” or “Southern Comfort” type scenario. Having man revert to his savage nature out in the wilderness is a gimmick that usually works for me. When set among the especially scenic New Zealand landscapes, it makes for an even nicer contrast. The verdant woods and cascading leaves truly ups the feeling of isolation here. 

While “Bridge to Nowhere” superficially resembles the set-up of a slasher movie, it's not paced like one. The film takes its time before the danger becomes apparent. Mac doesn't begin to cut the teens down until about half-way through the film. It's a little while longer before the kids realize they are in danger. The stalking scenes are devoted more to the guy's (adorable) dogs trailing the kids as they attempt to put distance between them and their threat. The result is a film that slowly ramps up the tension, the situation growing more desperate before the youths and their hunter come to blows. This slow increase of suspense is furthered by the murderer mostly using a rifle as his weapon of choices. That gives him the advantage of distance and surprise, making the teens seemed more actively endangered than in your usual Jason flick. By the time the last man standing goes hand-to-hand with their pursuer, “Bridge to Nowhere” successfully reaches a frantic pitch. 

Rather than have a final girl, like most body count flicks, “Bridge of Nowhere” has a Final Boy. Matthew Hunter plays Carl, as a stoic and sensitive type who is more interested in observing than acting. He has the arc, of a shy and unassuming youth who has to rise to the occasion and fight off the attacker. That choice also points to the somewhat understated nature of the film's writing. The script does not develop all its cast members equally. Gray and Julia are indistinct hanger-ons, never quite emerging as anything other than The Other Ones. Leon and Tanya, meanwhile, spend a bit more time than is appreciated screaming at each other. That Mac and his dysfunctional relationship with Lise are the most interesting characters in the film is probably another example of the unbalanced writing here. Bruno Lawrence plays the man with a steely quality that makes his actions, no matter how rash, seem calculated and reasonable. Meanwhile, Alison Routledge as Lise seems to be prone to mental instability. I found myself wanting to know more about what the hell the exact dynamic between these two was. 

I'm not sure the film is too interested in women. Leon is introduced stealing a rifle from his dad's gun vault, as if firearms are totems of masculine power. When him and Gray first find a swimming hole, they strip off their clothes and leap in, whangs flopping around. Later, they trick Carl – who is introduced shirtless and wears a mesh shirt – into taking a fart right to the face. Yes, there is a bit of casual homoeroticism at play. I don't think this is merely an example of an eighties movie accidentally bending towards queer subtext. To contrast against Carl's calm, perhaps even submissive nature, Leon is a hyper-sexual braggart. He is also pushing forward into wilder displays of courage, as if he's eager to prove his bravery and worth. When he gets a young woman all alone, his instinct do not veer toward romance but violence. Is “Bridge to Nowhere” making some sort of statement about toxic masculinity? I'm inclined to say yes, which makes the decision to not play the villain as some sort of raging, egregiously macho type an odd one. Mac is rustic and virile but not in a way that especially contrasts with Leon's teen boy insecurities or Carl's unassuming softness. 

In other words, “Bridge to Nowhere” is not a perfectly constructed and concise thrills machine. It is unevenly paced, with a cast that isn't fully realized, and unfulfilled ideas at its margins. At the same time, there's a humbleness at play here that can't help but charm me. The novelty of the location goes a long way, as does the natural isolation of the beautiful scenery. The film sets out with modest expectations, knowingly utilizing well-worn genre frameworks, and does a good job playing within that field. The film goes to credits almost immediately after the climax, suggesting to me that the filmmakers were well aware that this was destined to be a bite-sized, relaxed gem and not a blockbuster super-smash. That's just fine with me and I would recommend this one, to horror dorks who need something they probably haven't seen that is well executed but also won't demand their attention too closely. [7/10]

Tales from the Darkside: The Odds

This has been a hard year for fans of cult cinema and television. Unfortunately, enough time has passed that beloved performers of the eighties and nineties are starting to pass away. Among one of the notable names to shuffle off this mortal coil was the great Tom Noonan, whose height and off-beat aura saw him cast as many villains in beloved films. He also did TV sometimes, such as a memorable early episode of “Tales from the Darkside.” “The Odds” concerns Tommy Vale, a bookie who never turns down a bet and, accordingly, never turns down battering those that fail to pay up. A mysterious tall man in a white hat appears in his bar one day. He makes improbable bets that, somehow, always pay off. Tommy's buddy, who is always tinkering with a chiming electronic calculator, says the man resembles Bill Lacey. That was an old customer of Vale's, who took a still unsolved dive off a bridge not that long ago. Shortly after the suspicion that this could be Lacey's grown son, or the man himself returned from the grave for revenge, the visitor makes another bet: That Tommy Vale will be dead by eight o'clock tonight.

“The Odds” is not an episode wide in scope. The entire story takes place in Tommy Vale's bar and there's only three or four characters. It's a tale from the dark side without any monsters. The supernatural elements are subtle and could be considered ambiguous. Despite that, it is a compelling half-hour of television. That's largely because of the two actors playing against each other here. In one corner, we have Mr. Noonan, putting on an outrageous guideo accent. He smiles like he knows a secret and has an ideal twinkle of sinister intent in his eyes. It's an proper use of Noonan's unique star power. Opposite him is another great character actor, Danny Aiello. This is the exact type of tough guy, Mafia-adjacent role that Aiello specialized in. With simply a look or a particular line read, he summons up a cock-sure intelligence or a calculating exactness. He never raises his voice but prove a threatening presence nevertheless.

Watching these two bounce off each other is worthwhile. When the ghostly element appears, I really like how casually Aiello accepts it. Like the E.C. Comics that inspired “Tales from the Darkside,” this is a story of a crooked bastard getting what's coming to him. Like the fairy tales and folk stories that inspired those comics, it's also a riff on a common storytelling idea. Namely, that you cannot cheat the devil out of what he's owed. The twist ending of “The Odds” comes right before the end credits, the episode really making you wait for that pay-off. It's a satisfying conclusion, albeit one heavily foreshadowed. Despite that and its humble resources, this is a good “Tale.” It's also a fitting tribute to Noonan and Aiello's talents, two performers who could do a lot with very little. [7/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Baron's Bride

I don't know how much Frank Mancuso Jr. and the gang cared about specific episode milestones. However, the production team did whip up something kind of special for the thirteenth episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” “The Baron's Bride” begins with a guy name Frank inquiring about a room for rent in a stately old mansion. The hostess keeps mentioning her late husband and leaves an old cape with an ornate jewel on it out in the room, which Frank is compelled to try on. This is the object Ryan, Micki, and Jack are seeking this week, an old baron's cape said to make the wearer irresistible to women. There's more though, because the homeowner is... A vampire! She bites Frank before the Curious Goods trio burst into the room. The now vampiric, cape-wearing renter grabs Ryan and Miki and finishes saying the incantation the vampiress was speaking a minute ago. This sends all three of them back in time to 1860s England. Now they have to stop a vampire killer on the loose in Whitechapel and figure out how to get home. Oh yeah, Miki is also starting to fall under the cape's allure. The gang gets assistant from a Scottish author named Abraham and Caitlin, whose true identities should be easy enough to guess...

Yes, “The Baron's Bride” is “Friday the 13th: The Series”” homage to “Dracula.” Not only Stoker's novel either. The minute the setting shifts back in time to Victorian London, the episode switches to black-and-white. This is not simply an example of the colors being de-saturated. Cinematographer Rodney Charters and director Bradford May were clearly fans of the classic Universal Monster movies. (May was previously the D.P. on “The Monster Squad,” so this is not surprising.) The shadows are very deep and dark, accented by moody grays. There's a fair bit of fog and shots of the vampire lurking around the urban back alleys. Some ambiance taken from Tod Browning and Karl Freund is not the only classic horror throwback here. Frank looks more like Langella's Dracula in his cloak but, upon removing the cape, his hands become elongated claws and his face takes a rat-like visage, “Nosferatu” style. In general, this is a slightly freakier vampire than your usual bloodsucker, fangs longer and mouth wider than a demure Dracula. 

Beyond the strong visuals and nods to old monster movies, I also enjoy how this episode's premise keeps escalating. You assume it's going to be an average “Friday the 13th,” simply about a cursed piece of evening wear reeking havoc. That's before the introduction of straight-up vampires, a supernatural threat previously not established in this universe and unrelated to the usual demonic knickknacks. And then the gang is shot back in time, another gimmick tossed atop this set-up. Simply dropping Ryan and Micki into a new setting is fun. Robey being enthralled by a vampire allows her to broaden her acting a bit, getting to be a femme fatale in a scene or two. The true identity of “Abraham” is immediately obvious the minute I heard his accent. Eighties genre TV loved secret origin stories like this. Also, I continue to be surprised by how gory this show was allowed to get, as its stakes through the hearts are bloodier than anticipated. Bradford May would go on to direct the lame “Darkman” sequels, which would've benefit from some of this classic horror energy. [7/10]