Halloween 2026: October 4th

 

Clash of the Titans (1981)

Ray Harryhausen's eleventh motion picture as visual effects technician, “Sinbad the the Eye of the Tiger,” would be released the same day as “Star Wars.” This is surely among the most fitting of coincidences in cinema history. The spectacle and myth-making of Harryhausen's work would inspire George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Yet their brand of blockbuster would also eclipse the simpler charms of “Jason and the Argonauts” or “The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad.” Ray and his regular producer Charles H. Schneer weren't ready to give up though. They would begin developing another fantasy epic, returning to the same Greek mythology that served them well in the past. However, it was destined to be a fond farewell, not a new beginning. “Clash of the Titans' was a box office success in 1981 but Ray would announce his retirement shortly after its release. 

Screenwriter Beverly Cross simplifies the legend of Perseus but hits the major plot beats: He is still the son of Danae, the result of the god Zeus impregnating her as a golden shower. The princess and her baby are tossed into a chest and thrown off a cliff, guided by the gods to the island of Seriphos. Cross invents a villain in the form of Calibos, the betrothed of Princess Andromeda who has been twisted into a monster for his villainous actions. Now, he calls Andromeda's spirit to his swamp every night, providing her with a new riddle to baffle potential suitors with. Perseus, gifted with a bevy of magical power-ups by the gods, figures out the secret and wins the princess' heart. That's when Calibos' mom, the goddess Thetis, punishes them by insisting Andromeda be sacrificed to the sea monster, the Kraken. (Standing in for the more generic threat of Cetus, in the original story.) Now Perseus must go on a quest to retrieve the one thing that can kill the unstoppable sea monster: The head of the gorgon Medusa, which turns all who look at it into stone. 

Much like the latter two “Sinbad” features, “Clash of the Titans” was surely a throwback even when it was new. It follows the same pattern as the previous fantasy epics Harryhausen worked on. The plot is a episodic quest, built around traveling to an exotic location for a simple reason, upon which the next goal is given to the hero. There is no attempt to deconstruct or reconfigure the mythological figures this story is about. Perseus is a pure-hearted hero, morally sure in his motivations and always just in his actions. He gets an always-wise, always-helpful mentor. It seems to be in the contract with the Gods that literal princess Andromeda stay a virgin until her wedding night, to insure that her love with Perseus is perfectly chaste and pure. The villain is so strictly wicked in his ways that he physically resembles Satan, hooves and horns and tails. To call the characters “archetypes” would be neither insulting nor incorrect, as that's exactly what such mythic figures are anyway. (Even if Calibos is an invention of the filmmakers, he certainly fits in with the half-human, half-monster antagonists of classical mythology.)

Of course, the actual heroes of Greek folklore were not so black-and-white. Least we forget what Jason did after he retrieved the golden fleece. “Clash” mostly doesn't get into that, as far as its mortal characters are concerned. The Gods, however, are portrayed as petty and temperamental as the Greeks liked it. Thetis regularly points out that it's kind of bullshit that Perseus gets the favor of the Gods simply because Zeus is his daddy. Hera certainly has no warmth towards another one of her philandering husband's illegitimate offspring. When the king of Olympus asks Athena to give up her beloved owl, she's not happy about it. The film does not, in any way, interrogate this. Zeus is a jerk but that does not influence Perseus being a straight-forward good guy any. There's a molecule of sympathy to the way Neil McCarthy plays Calibos but that's about it as complications go. 

If it feels like I'm complaining, I'm not. I actually admire the purity of “Clash of the Titans'” vision. Harry Hamlin is so stout-chinned and stern-voiced in his performance that he might as well have leapt right off a comic book page. Laurence Olivier and Maggie Smith make grand theater of playing literal gods. Burgess Meredith adds a wry twinkle of the eye to the standard wise mentor role of Ammon. Director Desmond Davis mostly stays out of the way of the effects and the material. “Clash of the Titans” is a colorful, often gorgeous film. The flickering shadows and hellish oranges of Medusa's lair or foggy texture of Calibos' swamps are lovely. At the same time, the visuals rarely draw too much attention to themselves. There's little indication this film was made in the eighties, aside from a little more blood in the violence and some random PG-rated nudity in an earlier moment. The chirping, cute mechanical sidekick of Bubo the owl has been suggested to be an imitation of R2-D2. Ray denied this but I don't know if I believe him. 

For the most part though, “Clash of the Titans” feels like a film unmoored from time. Some of its effects, mostly in terms of compositing that puts actors in locations were they are not, look cheesy now and then. However, the appeal of Dynamation is eternal. “Clash of the Titans” has maybe the most Harryhausen creations per minute-of-screen time of all his works. I'm not sure any of the stop-motion beasties here rival the likes of the Ymir or Talos in terms of sheer personality. I wish the Kraken was a more sympathetic creature than merely a force of destruction. However, it's an unforgettable creation nevertheless, vast in its scale and personable in its movements. The clicking of Medusa's rattle tail, the glare on her reptilian face is unforgettable, the way her two-headed guard dog yelps when injured, the clattering of the huge scorpions or the way the giant vulture cocks its head to the side: Once again, Harryhausen imbues these creatures with little bits of personality and expressiveness, that make them more than special effects. 

In many ways, “Clash of the Titans” is an immensely charming film. There is something to be admired in Harryhausen and his team's staunch refusal to try and blend in with the times. They knew that stately heroism like this, grand adventure, and cool monsters will always appeal to the young at heart. On one hand, a strict focus like this can be narrowing. “Clash of the Titans” is not a thematically complex film. Its characters have few layers, its plot with little complications, and its resolutions are big and broad. When paired with beautiful but clearly old-fashioned effects, the result is a film clearly of the past. Harryhausen announcing his retirement right after its release was an admission that the world had passed his particular niche by. I'm glad he got this victory lap though. As “simple” as this film is, it's also a work of great skill, experts and artisans working doing their best to create pure entertainment. [8/10]

Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre (2009)

Considering the impact of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” I'm surprised more filmmakers have not emulated the titling scheme of a place, an implement, and a form of murder.  Would you not be intrigued by a motion picture entitled, for example, “The Pennsylvania Blender Homicides?” “Siam Crowbar Fatalities?” “The Utah Spatula Maulings?” I know that would get my butt in the seat! I suppose it's only natural that most tourist destinations would not want to associate their city, state, or country with dismemberment. Of course, Icelandic people are not phased by such concerns. They come from a volcanic wasteland located at the frozen top of the world. They are heartier than that. Also, Gunnar Hansen was Icelandic, meaning that it was only a matter of time before someone from the country would decide to pay homage to Tobe Hooper's classic. Those people were Sjón and filmmaker Júlíus Kemp, with 2009's “Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre.” Presumably because a lot of Americans do not know that Reykjavik is the capital of Iceland, the film was re-titled to “Harpoon” here in the states. Come on, guys, “Icelandic Harpoon Massacre” was right there!

A group of tourists gather in a dingy port in the capital city, awaiting a dilapidated vessel for a whale-watching tour. Among them are Annette, a Christian woman who recently lost her husband-to-be, and Marie-Anne, an environmental activist who drank too much last night. The rest of the group are made up of an alcoholic Frenchman, three British biddies, a Japanese businessman, his wife and put-upon assistant, and the pragmatic Leon. The captain doesn't spot any whales that day and strays into the fishing territory of former whalers. The Frenchman foolishly ascends the mast, causing an accident that impales the captain. The sleazy first mate abandons ship, leaving the sight-seers adrift. They are found by the same desperate whalers who, their profession no longer viable, have turned to cannibalism and depravity. A fight for survival ensues.

“Whale Watching Massacre” falls thoroughly into the 2000's trend of horror as bleak films that are heavy on intense violence and nastiness. The visual palette is overwhelmingly grey and every surface is caked with grime. The opening credits play over real footage of whales being slaughtered. Victims do not merely die but suffer, being strung up, burned, or abused. That would be one thing but the film is also endlessly mean-spirited. Its secondary female lead is subjected to sexual assault, molestation, and torture. Her aside, the cast is largely made up of national stereotypes that treat each other awfully. The British woman observe Leon, a black man, as nothing but a sexual object. It's revealed that he's a homosexual, which Annette declares “disgusting.” The Frenchman is a cowardly, obnoxious buffoon who pisses his pants. The Japanese businessman is a sexist, insulting lout who treats his assistant – the only other semi-decent person in the film – like a slave. These are mostly awful people and this is a film about watching them be awful to each other, on their way to dying awfully. 

Despite its grimness, most of the press refers to “Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre” as a “horror/comedy.” As far as I can tell, the only humor on display here comes from these cartoonishly caricatured characters. I guess we are supposed to find these people calling women “bitches” or crassly hitting one each other to be funny. The only actual attempt at humor occurs in a moment blatantly swiped from “Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” when a seeming safe harbor is revealed to be in league with the cannibals. Supposedly, the film belongs to the same tradition of exaggerated grindhouse throw-backs, also popular at the time. This is evident in the exaggerated gore effects. However, that seems to simply reinforce the movie's cynical outlook. If all of these characters are terrible human beings, naturally we would find their violent death amusing and not dispiriting. The decision to play some of the violence as serious and grim and some as comical, when combined with the overwhelming hateful perspective of the film, simply makes this a miserable slog to watch. 

The film also strikes me as free of any tension. I suspect “Wolf Creek” might have been an influence on this. There's a similar structure, in the characters starting out in one situation, hoping they are saved, only to be put into far more dangerous. However, the film has no patience in revealing its “fishbillies” are murderous, leaving little room for suspense. The characters are so thoroughly unpleasant that you don't care whether they live or die. Moreover, the structure of the script is needlessly shuffled up. The story is constantly leaping between its cast, many of them across different locations. At one point, it jumps back to a group of unimportant side characters from the first scene, which contribute in no way to the actual story. It is as if the film is repeatedly working against any attempts to build up proper tension, always diving into a different tone or scenario when any might be mounting. 

Screenwriter Sjón is a high-minded writer usually, known for his poetry and his more recent scripts for Robert Eggers' films. Presumably, he intended “Whale Watching Massacre” to be satirical. Making the entire cast unflattering representations of their nations feels like the kind of half-formed edginess that passed for “satire” in certain circles in the 2000s. Like Leatherface's brood, the cannibalistic whalers have been forced into this lifestyle by the collapse of their business. They blame animal rights activists for whaling falling out of fashion. While the harpoon-wielding maniacs are clearly antagonistic, the movie around them seems to be pro-whaling. An orca getting a harpoon in its skin helps a character out of a major bind and the environmentalist characters are depicted as clueless. While I agree that everyone should be able to make a living, and that certain cultural traditions can be preserved, it's hard to consider the environmental impact of whaling as worth it. When put in the context of the rest of the film's nihilistic nastiness, this feels less like a statement on Icelandic cultural traditions and more like a juvenile proclamation of it being uncool to care about something silly like animal well-fair. 

I think transposing the grim hopelessness of something like “Wolf Creek” or the slaughterhouse satire of “Chain Saw Massacre” into the bitter north of Iceland and its waters was a good idea. That's a hell of a setting for a horror film. I'm always intrigued to see a culturally specific riff on a genre stable like the depraved redneck. I think the whaling industry is pretty terrible but there's certainly a conversation to be had around it. Unfortunately, “Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre” is thoroughly unpleasant and obnoxious throughout, without any wit, tension, or compelling thoughts behind its cruelty. Though Sjón does include a shout-out to his sometimes band-mate Björk, maximizing the Icelandic content of this one at least. [4/10]

 

Sightings: Poor Souls
 

“Sightings” – a “news” program devoted to reports of UFOs, ghostly activity, cryptozoology, psychic phenomenon, demonic encounters, magik, and any other type of bullshit you can think of – began life on network TV and syndication. Sci-Fi Channel began to include re-runs of the series on its schedule around 1995, before picking the show up for one more season the next year. This is when I started watching. Now, as an understanding skeptic, I can watch “Sightings” as the pop-science mishmash of nonsense and hysteria that it is. However, as a kid, the way the program presented supernatural claims as legitimate reports would always cause a delightful shiver to run up my spine. Basically, I had the relationship with this show that many people a little older than me did with “Unsolved Mysteries.”

This is why I decided to include a random episode of “Sightings” from the Sci-Fi era in this year's line-up. The third broadcast from season four is a typical hour of the program. The topics breached here include UFO sightings in Israel, Area 51, high schoolers pushing for disclosure of government information around the Roswell story, and a woman who claims to have had a near-death experience during a plane crash. An especially hilarious sequence is called “In the News.” This contains quick tidbits about Native American prophecies around the birth of a white buffalo and scientists researching genetic conditions that are speculated to be a possible origin for werewolf legends. “Sightings” hilariously presents this news story as “Does this prove that werewolves are real?” and plays scenes from “Silver Bullet” under it. This is very silly and shows how dubious “Sightings'” reporting in general was. 

The episode begins with a segment entitled “Poor Souls.” It concerns a former poor house farm location – a building that would house the homeless, sick, and dying back in the day – that is now a residential home. As you'd expect with that back story, the people who have lived in the home claim it is haunted. What the family talks about is standard ghost stuff. The thermostat getting messed with, animals dying mysteriously, uneasy feelings in places. Amusingly, the so-called Drawbridge family – that's gotta be a fake name, right? – attributed the patriarch's kidney stone to supernatural influence as well. “Sightings” draws in “psychic investigator” Peter James to poke around the house. It's all the kind of second-hand supposition you'd expect. Several of the interviewed subjects crack visible smiles while telling their tales, making it clear that you should not take any of this shit seriously. 

Having said all of that, this segment really sums up the appeal “Sightings” had to me as a kid. The dramatic reenactments are often shown in black-and-white, depicting people creeping around the old farm house. Watching this now, I can still feel the same spooky shiver run up my spine that I felt as a child. The people who assembled this segment actually make some good use of sound design and editing. You can see this same skill on-display in the much more ridiculous near-death phenomenon episode. The reenactments are dramatically framed, well lit, and paired with perfectly chosen sound bites. It's well done and presents extremely underwhelming evidence. “Poor Souls” has a jump scare and everything, when a pigeon flies right at Peter James' head when he's in the barn. If you have no nostalgia for detritus like this, it would hold little appeal. But this takes me right back to the late nineties, brother. [7/10]
 

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: What a Mother Wouldn't Do

Here's another somewhat atypical episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series,” more about the person using the cursed object to pursue a goal than the Curious Goods team tracking them down. Expecting mother Leslie Kent is told her child will be born stillborn and that carrying the infant to term may end her own life too. She's keepin' her baby, however. Upon passing by Lewis Vendredi's antiques shop, she became enamored with an simple wooden cradle. Now, six months later, her daughter Allison has been born. The cursed cradle is all that is keeping the child alive. Leslie, and her reluctant husband Martin, now must murder seven people with or near water in order to bring their daughter to full health. Their murder spree is what catches the eyes of Ryan, Micki, and Jack who quickly discover that the cradle in question has a link to the sinking of the Titanic.

In some regards, “What a Mother Wouldn't Do” is probably one of the strongest episodes of the show's first season. The premise of the episode puts our heroes in an extremely difficult situation. If they try and stop the murderous parents, it means a literal baby will die. Every time Allison is removed from her eerily rocking cradle, she begins crying in pain. This is a case where the murderous villains have a justifiable motivation. What parent wouldn't go to extreme lengths to protect their child? How this will be resolved is easy enough to predict, what with the way the script keeps emphasizing that two more people must be executed to fulfill the curse. Maybe to make up for the recent run of downbeat conclusions, this one has a happy ending. Some off-screen magical shenanigans must take place for things to play out in this manner and I wasn't crazy about that. However, I think this one has a dramatically sound foundation. 

There's also some well done fright sequences here. When the innocent babysitter is targeted for the next murder, it results in a way done and tense sequence. Martin, wearing a creepy “Alice Sweet Alice” style mask, attempts to drown her in a tub. It's one of the more tensely directed moments in the show so far. I also like the eerie sight of the cradle starting to rock on its own. On the other hand, “What a Mother Wouldn't Do” is heavy on the campiness that has frequently characterized the series. Lynne Cormack goes hideously over-the-top as the mother, driven to act like a cartoonish supervillain by the situation. She contorts her face in expressions of devious horror or shouts at wicked volumes. If an actress with a degree of subtly was cast in the role, this probably would've been a really strong hour. Instead, it walks the fine line of decent ideas and camp so much of this series has occupied. [7/10]

 

Halloween 2026: October 3rd

 

The Dam (2022)
Al-Sadd 

 

The recent history of Sudan has been defined by civil wars, massacres, and government coups. The human drive to tell and record stories survives no matter the social circumstances. Which is my pretentious, hopefully not-too-condescending way of saying that Sudan has, over the decades, had active film-going and making communities. The country's history of “mobile theaters” playing out of trucks or how drive-in cinemas became popular again during the lock-down is extremely interesting to me. However, I've noted before that countries with an excess of real life horror don't often have time for horror movies. However, a title of note did pop up recently. “The Dam” was directed by Ali Cherri, a Lebanese filmmaker based in Paris, but the film was made entirely within Sudan and with a Sudanese cast. I don't think “The Dam” has gotten official distribution in the States yet and finding a subtitled copy took some digging. But let's see how this goes.

In a desert region of North Sudan, workers toil in the shadows of the Merowe Dam. From the waters of the Nile, they sculpt bricks. Among them is Maher, a usually quiet man. During his off-hours, he walks into the desert and works on a personal project. He has dreams and visions, of a grumbling voice rising out from the ground. He has a wound on his lower back, that seems to be growing worst. Despite his failing health, he continues to sculpt a mysterious figure out of mud, He is compelled to continue his mission, which seems tied to the weeping scar in his skin. All the while, rising social unrest plays out in the background. Signs of looming violence and economic disaster are never far beyond any of the workers' minds. 

If the above plot synopsis didn't make it apparent, “The Dam” is a film that is not heavy on narrative. It is a vague story, told largely through imagery. (Which helps, since the subtitles I found for the film were not always the clearest.) The story often feels like a dream, moving through mundane and uncanny events in a slow and meditative fashion. There's not much of a soundtrack, scenes more often scored to natural sounds or songs from the radio. The sound design, however, is quite good. The dream sequences, of Maher wandering into the jungle and hearing strange, gurgling calls from underground feature some truly eerie sound work. While the scenes of the protagonist contemplating nature or wandering from one place to another feels like stereotypical art house stuff, “The Dam” does capture a properly hypnotizing feeling. I felt drawn into the actions of the protagonist, despite the lack of clarity about what he's doing or what is happening to him exactly. 

That's probably the main reason “The Dam” couldn't compel me more. It's a film that never outright says what it is doing. The mystery of what Maher is building is never exactly answered. Is the force pushing him to make this mud sculpture supernatural or spiritual in nature? Does it exist entirely within his own head? There is evidently some sort of connection between what he's building and the growing wound on his skin. It also feeds into the building of the dam, with rising and falling water levels throughout the village. However, if you're expecting any sort of clarification or climax to these threads, “The Dam” isn't the movie for you. There is violence and conflict eventually, though on a fairly low-key level, but the tone remains vague all throughout. “The Dam” is operating more as an allegory, meaning filtered through symbols and suggestion, but what exactly it is allegorical of escapes me some. 

It clearly has something to do with the political situation in Sudan. I definitely do not know enough about that to make any sort of interpretation. Much less attempt to decipher the particular political leanings of the filmmaker, the story they are telling, and how it relates to any atrocities one army or another may be performing at this moment. I suspect the filmmakers were reluctant to pick a clear side over another. We hear news reports of civil unrest and military action from radios in the background. The lack of money, resources, and food the workers must endure is emphasized. There's a moment where Maher glares in anger at a border guard holding a machine gun. All of this certainly paints a picture of an impoverished society, with violent change and just plain violence pushing in on them. The film casts locals from the community to essentially play versions of themselves, the characters and actors sharing names. The dam in the background is very real and the performers were largely actual brick-makers. It all suggests that “The Dam” is about capturing life among the people in this place, at this moment, and seems to do an interesting job of documenting that. 

As for “The Dam” being the first horror movie made in Sudan, that's a debatable statement. A sequence where Maher walks through a darkened area, the underground voice beckoning to him, is eerie. The reoccurring presence of a wild dog or coyote has a somewhat threatening aura to it. I guess the weird scar on his back suggests a layer of body horror? I don't think tension, suspense, fear, or repulsion were any of the intended emotions by the filmmakers though. “Magical realism” is probably a better classification for this one, maybe “Dark fantasy.” It's still probably the closest thing to a horror movie Sudan has produced yet though. And it's an interesting, if very vague motion picture. I liked it enough to be interested in whatever Ali Cherri does next and hopeful that this gets a physical release of some sort eventually. [6/10]

 

Legend of the Werewolf (1975)

As fright films became more explicit and modern in the seventies, vampires in evening wear and fog-shrouded castles started to feel a lot more antiquated. This was a problem for Hammer Productions, who still specialized in the gothic stuff. They would put more flesh and blood in their films, try out newer tales of terror, and eventually drop Dracula into modern day London. It was all for naught and the studio basically didn't exist by the end of the decade. Yet as Hammer was dying, a start-up would appear making the exact same sort of movies. Tyburn Productions was founded by Kevin Francis as a deliberate attempt to revive the spirit of Hammer horror. He recruited several alums of the studio – most prominently his dad, Freddie Francis – to help on this mission. It didn't work out. Tyburn ceased productions for theaters after three tries. While I wasn't much impressed with the previous Tyburn joint I watched, I decided to give 1975's “Legend of the Werewolf” a try.

Hammer never made a sequel to “Curse of the Werewolf” but this one, from the title on down, is so derivative of it as to operate as an unofficial follow-up. Like that film's source novel, "Legend" is set in 1800s France. Its protagonist is also cursed with lycanthropy by the circumstances of his birth. A newly born infant has his family killed by wolves. The canines adopted the baby, instead of eating it. Eight years later, he's living in the woods as a wild child. That's when a traveling side show captures him to be an attraction. In time, he grows into a strapping young lad named Etoile. The full moon prompts him to change into a werewolf, ripping one of the worker's throat out. He flees into the city and finds work in a zoo, before falling in love with a prostitute named Christine. When jealousy over her clients rises up, he changes into a beast again and begins a killing spree. A pathologist named Professor Cataflanque is soon on the case.

Part of what made “Curse of the Werewolf” one of Hammer's best films, or at least my personal favorite, was how keenly human its characters were. Leon was a sympathetic victim of fate but the werewolf remained scary. The romantic subplot was passionate and the inevitability of what his father figure must do was tragic. “Legend of the Werewolf” is trying to replicate this but the balance is off. Etoile's devotion to Christine reads less as sweet than as pathetic. He's a naive man-child in love with a prostitute who he just met and who obviously can't return his feelings. He's clingy, overly protective, and expresses his feelings through crying or murderous werewolf attacks. A lack of likable characters is a big problem for the film. The sideshow crew that take the boy in are cynical, money-obsessed, and hostile. The unnamed zoo keeper that takes him is a sleazy crook, who feels bad about abusing his animals but does it anyway. The madam of the brothel is an alcoholic who is all-business, all the time. 

The result is a prickly feeling film, with little to draw the viewer in. Peter Cushing is the one non-repelling character in the film, as the eccentric detective on the case. Watching Cushing talk his way through various leads and explore clues is always charming. However, the resolution tot he mystery is a moot point. We, the viewer, know who the werewolf is, where he's hiding, and why he's killing. That creates a tension-free narrative. Once Christine rejects Etoile, he becomes a strangely non-active protagonist. He spends the rest of the movie moping in the sewers, unable to stop his murderous hunger. His arc evolves no further past this point. This goes hand-in-hand with a strangely limited lack of scope. For most of the movie, it seems the story rotates through three or four locations: The zoo, the whore house, the coroner's office and the sewer. The script passing back and forth between this handful of places makes the film feel short of budget, ideas, and a vision to implement them.

“Legend of the Werewolf” as a pale imitation of the earlier film is evident in another factor. When the protagonist transforms, he has a wreath of white and grey hair around his face, with a furrowed brow, and a torn open silk shirt. He looks a lot like Oliver Reed in “Curse of the Werewolf,” in other words. Though he's been assigned to remake one of his classic films, you can still see Freddie Francis trying to get something out of this. The film throws in a few creative visuals. The werewolf attacks are often preceded by red-tinted point-of-view shots from the beast. The focus is often on those bloody fangs, as they pull away from the neck of their victim. Another cool shot sees a body floating backwards through the waters of the sewer. A lot of these moments are framed from eccentric angles, askew or upside down. It's the most playful thing about a film that is mostly unlikable and warmed-over.

I like the bits where Cushing's relaxed attitude towards looking at dead bodies grosses out the people around him. Roy Castle has a great bit part as the squeamish photographer Cushing ropes into his plan. Those eccentricities in the cast represents the best parts of the film. Such as Marjorie Yates as the madam, a thoroughly nasty person who nevertheless gets a funny line or two. “Legend of the Werewolf” primarily made me think of two things. Ya know how Hammer's first “The Mummy” is a classic and most of the sequels they made to it feel lifeless and cheesy in comparison? If you pretend “Legend” is a sequel to “Curse,” the exact impression it gives. Secondly, after watching Tyburn's “The Ghoul” and also finding it to be bereft of likable humans, an image of why the company failed emerges. The company tried to adapt the more down-beat attitude horror took in the seventies and combine it with classic Hammer features, forgetting to make the former fully-formed and developed and the latter anything but warmed-over leftovers. [5/10]

 

 

The Hidden Room: Dangerous Dreams
 

You probably thought I was done talking about the Lifetime Channel, didn't you? Last time the cable station came up, it was during a transitional period in its identity. By 1991, the Television for Women premise had been established. The network had already gotten attention for its string of ripped-from-the-headlines TV movies, detailing the traumatic backstories of real women, usually played by slightly washed-up actresses. Again, this probably seemed like an odd environment to launched a supernatural themed anthology network. However, in the past, I've discussed how cable channels moving into original programming have a weird habit of trying to create their own anthologies. I guess “It's “The Twilight Zone” but about the entertainment industry/rock music/sad women!” is an easily understood pitch. Thus, “The Hidden Room” debuted in the early nineties, attempting to combine Lifetime's lady-centric melodramas with a spookier edge. While the series ran for two seasons, it's obscure enough today that online uploads of episodes are rare. The only one I can currently find is “Dangerous Dreams,” the season two premiere. 

Martha and Victor have recently married, following the death of his previous wife. This is a problem for Victor's teenage daughter, Alice, who resents the presence of another woman in the role formally occupied by her late mom. Martha isn't crazy about the kid either, as her prickliness often causes fights between her and her new husband. Martha is also beginning to have unsettling nightmares, that seem to foretell bad things happening in the home. Such as a sweater that belonged to Alice's mom being found sliced up, causing another argument. Or the garage of the house catching on fire. It gets bad enough that Martha decides to spend a night with a friend of her's. This is when the dreams take their most distressing turn yet...

Despite the extreme obscurity it's been cast into, “The Hidden Room” did manage to wrangle up a decent selection of recognizable names. Helen Mirren and Catherine O'Hara did episodes, for two examples. “Dangerous Dreams” stars more cult-friendly faces. Amanda Donahue plays Martha, a young Sarah Polley makes her second appearance this season as Alice, and – bringing it back to “Forever Knight” for me again – Geraint Wyn Davies appears as Victor. Unfortunately, a decent cast cannot elevate fairly maudlin material. “Dangerous Dreams” hits all the notes you expect from a story of a child adjusting to a new stepparent. The circumstances around the arguments are fairly contrived. A very ugly slashed up shirt seems petty as can be, while the garage almost blowing up seems a lot more serious than it's treated as. It all bends towards a narrative twist that becomes more easily predicted as the half-hour goes on. 

The reputation of Lifetime original programming is certainly maintained here. The world of “The Hidden Room” seems to be one filled with aggressive, sexually menacing, cartoonish street gangs. At least Wyn Davis is not a one-note jerk and him and Donahue, mostly underutilized, share some okay romantic chemistry. It's still hard to escape the chintzy quality at work here. The score is composed of either “Incredible Hulk”-sounding sad piano melodies or ominous bongo pattering, going a long way towards making this seem like the forgettable basic cable dross it was. Season one of “The Hidden Room' had a host, an old woman in the titular room blabbering “Hitchhiker”-style philoso-dreck, but she was removed in season two. As a fan of that kind of bullshit, I would've liked to have seen that but I get the impression that “The Hidden Room” didn't offer much otherwise. [5/10]

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Pipe Dream

Here's another “Friday the 13th” where it feels like they cobbled together several different ideas for an episode. The episode is called “Pipe Dream” because the cursed antique is an ornate, very funny looking tobacco pipe with a devil's face carved into the bowl. When smoked, it produces an orange mist that envelopes the nearest person, causing their skin to crack and bubble before making them dissolve into nothing. This is largely incidental to the actual premise, which takes place at a high-tech weapon design firm. The pipe's first victim is a newbie to the company who has blue prints for a laser-guided, powerful rifle. Ray, unaware of the pipe's murderous abilities, accidentally kills the kid after seeing the blue prints, which he then takes and sells as his own. A tense week follows, with pressure on from the boss, he tries to pitch the rifle to a new contractor. Oh yeah, Ray is also Ryan's estranged dad. Father and son's tense relationship, Ryan invited back into Ray's life because he's also marrying his long-time girlfriend, is actually what drives the dramatic intent of the episode. 

All of these ideas conflict for space within the episode. This is frustrating, as even the screenwriter clearly realized the main focus should be on Ryan and his dad's hang-ups. Michael Constantine, a character actor with a long career who I most recognize as the bewitcher in “Thinner,” plays Ray as a thorny guy. He's so focused on achieving his own idea of success that he's alienated his son. It's a surprisingly frank depiction of an asshole dad unwilling to accept his son's differing path. While you would expect this to lead towards a resolution between the two, where Ryan does finally earn his dad's respect and understanding... That's not what happens. “Pipe Dream” goes for a tragic ending instead and Ryan's trauma is left unresolved, lingering and eating at him. Which is a far more realistic and sad ending. Constantine still manages to make Ray somewhat sympathetic, hard-headed but also with an air desperation around him. He strikes me as a guy who has been struggling to survive all his life and, finally, has gotten a chance to get ahead, if only people would perfectly obey him. A common fault among dads, I've observed. 

This is also, perhaps, a compelling depiction of the nature of evil too. Ray isn't a bad guy. He doesn't mean to commit murder in the beginning, lighting the big goofy devil pipe unaware of what it'll do. At the same time, he still chooses to steal a design that wasn't made by him. I guess the Satanic appearance of the pipe is the obvious indicator of the Deal with the Devil set-up “Friday the 13th: The Series” usually utilizes. Financial windfall is given but only in return for rotting away at the soul. Ray is an average guy who compromises his own ethics to receive an easy answer. That's how good people become shitty ones, making choices that are selfish when proper pressure in their lives is put on them. While the ending is melodramatic in how downbeat it is, the latest in a line of sour endings for the show, it does follow this thread. Ryan's Dad takes the classic Faustian bargain but, unlike most of this show's weekly villain, he does realize the weight of his actions. And, like Faust, it cost him everything.

I say Ray is likable despite being a schmuck. That he also works for weapon manufacturers is another factor that pushes him into the asshole zone. Is this, perhaps, an anti-capitalistic message? Had Ray's soul already been sold when he chose to make a gun for a company that sells ways to kill people? When placed atop the emotionally-fraught premise of Ryan and his dad being at odds, this idea doesn't have the room to develop. I did like the sequence where Jack is knocked unconscious and placed behind a target at the firing range. That was decently suspenseful. I also can't undersell how silly that pipe looks. It's method of execution is also very silly, featuring some of the show's trademark dodgy special effects. Despite the flaws, I do think episode features some strong acting from John D. LeMay, who has been getting a lot of chances to cry lately. [7/10]

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]