Halloween 2026: September 29th

 

Coherence (2013)
 

Among the “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” cast members, Nicholas Brendon did not have the best post-show career. One can only assume that his well publicized personal problems effected his ability to book steady gigs. Presumably, his related substance abuse issues contributed to his untimely passing earlier this year, at the age of only 54. Though it has become popular to hate on the character, Xander was always one of my faves. Brendon's way with dialogue and easy-going presence was a big reason why. I wanted to honor his memory by watching a film featuring the guy this season. While the temptation to critically re-evaluate “Pinata: Survival Island” was there, I decided to look at the probable high-light of his film career. That would be 2013's “Coherence,” a micro-budget sci-fi indie that got stellar reviews upon release and continues to make brains itchy to this day. 

In the sky, Miller's Comet makes a rare close-pass by Earth. Eight old friends gather at the home of Mike and Lee for a dinner. Emily's cell phone screen shatters as she's talking to boyfriend, Kevin, who is also attending. Two other couples – Hugh and Beth, Amir and Laurie (who used to date Kevin) – also soon show up. What starts out as a casual dinner takes a strange turn when the power mysteriously goes out. A trip outside shows that the entire neighborhood has gone black, save for one house... A house that looks a lot like Mike and Lee's, with a table set for eight inside. Hugh's brother is a physicist and instructed him to call, if “anything strange” happens. That sets up the clear realization that the comet passing overhead has opened up a gateway between alternate realities. The house guests soon begin to question from which realities each of them have originated and the mechanics of the situation they are in. Inevitably, things take a deadly turn.

Films that are described as brain teasers, those motion pictures that present Big Ideas within the context of complex plots, cause me to think of the opening line of Demi Adejuyigbe's Letterboxd write-up of “I'm Thinking of Ending Things.” “Too dumb to understand this.” “Coherence” is not quite as convoluted or layered in its plotting as that film or “Primer,” the other indie sci-fi success it's most often compared to. However, this is still a motion picture that takes its time to explain what quantum coherence is. (Though incorrectly.) The thought experiment of Schrodinger's Cat is brought up multiple times. The film doesn't merely use the concept of alternate realities as a starting point, like most stories concerning the subject does. It sets out to deliberately confuse the audience. The viewer is meant to be as jumbled up and uncertain about what is happening as the characters are. I also suspect that the viewer is meant to catch on to how this works around the same time the characters do. That moment never came to me. The mechanics of “Coherence's” multiverse alluded me. The way it is determined who is from w hat reality or when the switch might have taken place went over my head. I'm not a total idiot. I get that the image in the night sky of the comet breaking into countless pieces represents the infinite directions our life can go in. Nevertheless, I was still stumped by much of this.

The somewhat confusing nature of “Coherence's” script was probably a result of how the movie was made. The film was born of director James Ward Byrkit, a storyboard artist and frequent collaborator of Gore Verbinski, hoping to make a feature as cheaply as possible by shooting within his own home. He had the actors improvise much of their dialogue and many of the scenes, so that the story remained unpredictable. The narrative was then largely assembled through editing, allegedly involving a number of flow charts. It's an interesting approach to filmmaking and I admire Byrkit's chutzpah. However, through it all, maybe he should've worked on defining his characters more. The cast of “Coherence” never quite emerge as individuals to me. When it's actually part of the plot that people can shift personalities or traits from scene-to-scene, it's hard for the audience to say who any of these folks. Trying to figure out their interpersonal entanglements did not always hook me. Too often, “Coherence” amounts to one of my least favorite genre film tropes: Characters picking a moment of crisis to argue about, rehash, or escalate into screaming arguments over petty disagreements and years old resentments. 

While I definitely am dumb, I was able to get a general idea of what “Coherence's” thematic concerns are. Clearly, this is a rumination on the nature of fate. As the different versions of these characters come and go, the little ways in which they are different are reflected on. The only thing separating one version of someone from another is a small selection of choices. What object they put in a box, what number they associated with themselves. At the same time, these minor choices have clearly had an influence on their entire lives. Which presents a frightening possibility: We have no control over our own existences. The choices we make are random, determined not by ourselves but by chance. Therefore, the paths are lives take occur without any input from us. The people we are results from how the dice fall, not from what we do. I think most of us have struggled with this feeling, that the entire universe and our role in it is complete happenstance. “Coherence” comes the closest to meaningfully touching on this idea near its climax. That's when the apparent main character attempts to choose a better life for themselves from a sprawling web of alternate realities. Who hasn't fantasized about that, of a slightly better version of our own lives? Of a version of us that would be happy and successful, if only a few things had gone differently? 

I guess what I'm saying is... I can clearly see that “Coherence” is clever. I like the way it approaches big ideas within the context of a small, simple location. Approaching cosmic horror from this direction, one that threatens to make us go mad by encountering ideas at the edge of scientific comprehension, is probably a more thoughtful approach than just throwing some tentacles and eldritch abominations on-screen. At the same time, the central gimmick of “Coherence” defeats itself a bit. Eight characters is too many to easily track of, much less keep straight in a tumble of possible worlds. Still, there's plenty to admire here. And as an ode to Nicholas Brendon, it's a good one. His role clearly seems to nod towards his own run-ins with alcoholism, while still displaying the incredible charm and verve he had. I'm gonna miss that guy, much the same way I'll miss all the better worlds I could be living in if my choices had been improved. [6/10]
 

Crocodile (1979)

Chorakhe

"Jaws" had a massive impact on the world of cinema. And I do mean the "world." How much of a global success Spielberg's shark thriller was is evident in the wide range of rip-offs that emerged from various far away locations. The Italians, naturally, went hog-wild but filmmakers from Spain, Japan, Australia, India, Mexico, Turkey, Brazil and Greece also threw their hats into the pool. A popular tactic for "Jaws" knock-offs was to simply replace a shark with another water-dwelling predator. Surely, no one will notice the suspicious similarities to a mega-popular blockbuster if it's a movie about an octopus, an orca, a barracuda, piranha, a manta ray, aqua Nazis, and sometimes a bear or a car. The second most cinematic semi-aquatic muncher of limbs is, naturally, the order of Crocodilia. To the point that gator and croc movies form their own subgenre. In 1978, some lunatics in Asia got together to make the first "Jaws" rip-off with a crocodile. "Crocodile Fangs" was directed by Korean filmmaker Lee Won-se in Thailand with a cross-continental cast. The film was then re-edited by notorious Thai filmmaker Sompote Sands, who mixed in more footage from other Thai productions. This version was then dubbed and further recut by American producer Dick Randall to create the motion picture now known as simply "Crocodile." While the original Korean cut is lost, the various international versions survive to be enjoyed by trash devotees all over the world. 

An earthquake rocks Thailand, resulting in a radioactive explosion of some sort. Or possibly the other way around. Whatever the order of events, the result is an ordinary crocodile is mutated to extraordinary size. It begins to terrorize the area, eating swimmers at a near-by beach, disrupting the water buffalo population, causing water spouts, and destroying entire water-front communities. Among the victims are the wives and daughter of Tony and John, two doctors. They meet up with each other and become determined to seek revenge on the oversized reptile. They are joined in their quest by two men: Eccentric fisherman Tanaka and nosy photographer Peter. By using crocodile pheromones, they lure the creature out into the open ocean, where they hope to destroy it... Unless it destroys them first. 

Probably the most immediately noticeable thing about “Crocodile” is the sheer lack of interest in consistently portraying the size and details of things. While this is noticeable during the opening earthquake sequence – stock footage from a film called “Land of Grief” – it is impossible to ignore whenever the crocodile itself is the focus. Footage of an actual, living crocodile gives the impression that it's not that much bigger than a typical specimen. A large prop of its head, sometimes with green or glowing orange eyes, is big enough to bite a crunch on a child or bite a person in half. This is extremely large but within the realm of possibility, as far as recorded crocodilian size goes. Other times, the crocodile is a fuckin' kaiju, crushing boats and devastating entire buildings. This is achieved through putting a real croc alongside miniature reproductions of the locations or using several puppets, all of which look different from each other. 

The result is, to say the least, far from convincing. In fact, “Crocodile” is rather hilariously sloppy in all the ways it's put together. The editing is blunt, scenes slamming into each other with little warning. The miniatures and props are often hysterically fake looking, such as the repeated moments when children's dolls are subbed in for human beings. On a narrative level, “Crocodile” is even more chopped up and slapped together. Characters are introduced suddenly. Certain narratives directions, like who this person is or what exactly their link is to each other, are never clarified. The dialogue is utterly inane. The film often plays like an assemblage of random elements that were popular around that time. A little disaster movie here, kaiju movie mayhem, and random scenes of people swimming or on motorcycles are slapped atop a blatant emulation of the last act of “Jaws.” One of the ingredients of the film is a skin flick too. There's two tracking shots of a woman's ass, one of which concludes with her stripping down. A steamy love scene is quickly followed up with a crocodile attack, in which the camera seems to zoom in on the actress' bikini bottom.

If I'm making it sound like I didn't enjoy all of the above, I apologize for giving that impression. Yes, “Crocodile” is a barely coherent mishmash of random scenes and plot, rolling along without any clear purpose and little clarity. It's also full of insane shit that made me laugh out loud. The city attack scenes is sprung on the viewer so suddenly, and is such a wild blur of violence and unconvincing special effects, that it left me speechless. One of the schemes used to try and stop the crocodile involves putting a giant, “Looney Tunes” style bear trap at the bottom of the river. Which the croc then launches through the air, slicing through several trees. The Quint-like character is introduced wearing suspenders over his bare chest, so that his screamin' eagle tattoo can be seen. The film begins with a solemn voice-over about how man has tried to destroy nature, how nature will strike back, and how all these things may happen some day. By the time the monster is blowing up in the last reel, it's merely the cherry atop this sundae of sleazy, hyper-gory, completely senseless, grindhouse chaos. 

Among those sleazy elements is a scene in which an actual crocodile is dissected on-screen, because what's a seventies/early eighties overseas exploitation movie without a little casual animal cruelty? I read there was more real crocodile gore in the original cut, one of the elements toned down for the international release. That's a good thing, because a moment of such unfortunate actual violence really puts a damper on the hazy, messy, coked-out, and highly entertaining trash pile that is “Crocodile.” I'm sure the proud film industry of Thailand would not be happy to be represented by such unabashed schlock as this. However, sometimes you need to watch a gloriously vulgar collection of insane bullshit to ground yourself as a long time monster movie fan. In other words, I can in no way recommend “Crocodile” based on any merits aside from the fact that it's incredibly, consistently entertaining. Fast forward through the IRL croc slaughter and watch with a beer and/or bong near-by. [7/10]

Dramarama: Snap
 

I've already mentioned this year that anthology programs used to be an institution on British television, every network having several of their own at any given time. Programs presenting stand alone stories were not only popular with the adults either. A number of children-targeted shows of this type aired in the U.K. through the seventies and eighties. "Dramarama" was made for ITV, though each episode was a production of a regional arm of the corporation. It began life in 1983 as "Spooky," telling primarily kid-friendly horror tales, before an inclusion of more whimsical or sci-fi stories prompted a title change in the second series. "Dramarama" still presented a ghost story from time to time though. A notable example is "Snap," from the fifth and final season, which has recently drawn attention from scholars of the currently trendy folk horror classification. 

The story concerns Peter, a young lad given the school assignment of hiking across Romney Marsh Swamp and snapping photographs as he goes. He argues with his dad on the drive down before spotting a mysterious, hooded hitchhiker alongside the road. After getting dropped off, he begins his march, taking photos as he goes... Without noticing that the same hooded hitchhiker is never far behind him. After stopping in an old church being renovated and having some lunch inside an abandoned train car, Peter's distinctive yellow slicker and Instamatic have been stolen. The thief has left behind their saggy, wet robe instead. Peter takes chase after the intruder, beginning a frightening night. 

It's difficult to imagine any modern school encouraging a child to wander across a frequently empty stretch of land, much less assigning it. It's also difficult to imagine a modern children's program airing a presentation as intentionally vague and creepy as "Snap." The episode tells us little about the boy. His interest in photography and inability to connect with his practical, trucker dad suggests he's the sensitive, artistic type. He certainly seems to be in a world of his own a bit, unaware that his presence is bothering the team working on the old church building. Similarly, the nature of whatever supernatural incident he's stumbled into is never elaborated on. Once the ghostly hitchhiker swaps their jackets, I began to pick up on the suggestion that this is some sort of changeling situation. The threat is an otherworldly doppelganger, taking the boy's place and leaving him stranded in some limbo state. But “Snap” doesn't elaborate on any of that. Closest we get to an answer is the ghostly double imploring Peter to “let him in,” the meaning of which is uncertain.

These are not complaints. I actually enjoy how much of “Snap” suggests, rather than explains. In only twenty-four minutes, the episode manages to capture a rather creepy ambiance by existing largely in the realm of the implied. More than a few scenes feel like a dream. Such as when he finds the ghostly boy in the slicker, swinging a billhook threateningly by a fireplace. Peter's snapshots appear on-screen, another artsy touch. At least once, the obscure figure appears in these photos, the kind of creepy tactics filmmakers are still using to this day. This pairs with the typically desolate English landscape. When paired with the scarecrow that shows up a few times – surely a shout-out to Dr. Syn, Alias the Scarecrow? – and an uncredited Tom Baker reading a bit from “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner” at the beginning and end, the conclusion that this is another story about modern life accidentally encountering ancient worlds is unavoidable. Only a somewhat distracting musical score and the copy on Youtube being almost unwatchably dark at times sapped my enjoyment of “Snap,' which is so good that I can hardly believe it was made for the eight-to-twelve crowd. [8/10]

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Quilt of Hator: The Awakening

Here's another reason for me to resent the highly serialized nature of modern television: Kids today no longer know the simple joys of the two-parter, when a regular installment ended on a cliffhanger and a premise ran longer than a mere hour. Frank Mancuso Jr. must have paid a lot for that custom quilt because “The Quilt of Hathor” was a story too big for one episode. (Which also resulted in that hilarious awkward naming format above. How many colons can you squeeze into one title?) “The Awakening” picks up with Ryan, still insisting that he's a Pentitite solely in the hopes he can get into Laura Granges' linen prairie dress. After a member of the community informs him that Effie Stokes is still in possession of the cursed quilt, that Micki left town with a copy, the old lady mysteriously dies. Reverend Grange is under pressure to find himself a wife and, finally putting things together, secretly marries Effie... Not because he wants to lock the evil quilt up but because he hopes to use it against his own enemies. Naturally, he pins the in-coming murders on Ryan, the outsider making goo-goo eyes at his daughter. 

My main takeaway from this episode? Scott Paulin plays Reverend Grange. He's a character actor who has been in a bunch of stuff, ranging from the asshole in “Teen Wolf” to the Red Skull in the supposedly secretly great Albert Pyun “Captain America” movie. With the mutton chops, beard, and simple black clothes in this episode, he looks like an insane Abraham Lincoln. He bulges his eyes out in indignation when one of the community elders suggest he find himself a wife already, as if he hasn't become a widower twice over in the last two weeks. Once he gets the power of the evil quilt – now that's a funny sentence, isn't it – his performance goes further over the type. By the time of the finale, the character has graduated fully to scheming super-villain. This is the pride that goeth before the literal fall. By which I mean Reverend Granges suffers a very silly final fate. That moment is a capper on a rather silly episode, which also includes someone clownishly threatened with a barbecue fork.

That moment occurs before a rather graphic eye gouging, which I guess speaks to the weird back-and-forth in this show. Generally, it's hard to take the stakes here too seriously. Not because an evil quilt is silly. That's no sillier than any of the other Artifacts of Doom. It's more that we don't believe for a minute that Ryan is actually going to abandon his main mission for some random lady. I don't think deciding to become Amish in your thirties is a thing that happens very often. The crux of the episode's most dramatic moment, when the Reverend's deception is revealed before a crowd, also comes from this minor guest star and not one of the main cast members. Makes that less powerful, you know? I do like the sight of Ryan strung-up and about to be burned at the stake. That was a fun image. Also, who decided to name the evil murder quilt after the Egyptian cow goddess of motherhood and fertility? [6/10]

Halloween 2026: September 28th

 

Kraken (2025)
Кракен

In my previous post, I wrote about a very specific type of motion picture: A giant monster movie, from a European country that you don't usually associate with giant monster movies, that is both about and entitled “Kraken,” which received a North American digital release within the last year. Today, I am also writing about a giant monster movie, from a European country that you don't usually associate with giant monster movies, that is both about and entitled “Kraken,” and received a North American digital release within the last year. Yes, by some improbable coincidence, about a year before Norway's big budget “Kraken” movie came out, the Russian film industry would also release a big budget “Kraken” movie. I actually mistook this film for the Norwegian one when the title first popped up on streaming. Upon realizing we had dueling Euro-Trash “Kraken” blockbusters, I knew I had to watch both. This “Kraken” was directed by Nikolai Lebedev, who previously directed what was the most expensive Russian movie at the time as well as a home-grown disaster flick. Once again, it's clear that filmmakers across the Atlantic are trying to create their own Hollywood-style spectacle. 

Near the North Pole, a Swedish geology team is performing tests with explosive charges. The experiments seem to have awoken something. Researchers Julia and Oskar barely escape their compound as it is pulled under the ice. A Russian submarine carrying a top-secret weapon, led by Captain Alexander Voronin, responds to their emergency signal. That is before the sub also goes dark. A second sub is launched to find and destroy the device the other ship was carrying. This mission is led by another Captain Voronin, Viktor, Alexander's little brother. Due to the personal nature of the mission, an Admiral Olshansky is also dispatched to keep an eye on Viktor. While the vessel is rescuing Julia and Oskar, they detect something large and hostile on their radar. Yes, it is the Kraken of legend. The beast is real and it is angry, destroying an oil rig right before the submarine's sensors. Despite the danger, Viktor continues on the mission to locate the missing sub, in the unlikely hope that his brother might still be alive. 

While the two “Krakens” might be easily confused at a glance, they do take very different approaches to the premise. Pål Øie's "Kraken" follows the structure of a standard monster movie, with mysterious sightings and disappearance leading up to the giant beastie's attack. Lebedev's film is much more of a military thriller. There are so many scenes of guys within the cramped interiors of a submarine, rushing from one monitor to another, shouting orders at each other. I would say such sequences occupy the majority of "Kraken's" two hour and fourteen minute runtime. I've heard that big budget Russian movies these days tend to be pro-military agitprop. (Which is not too surprising, considering the current political direction of the nation. I know the U.S. military only assists Hollywood productions if they have approval over the script and I imagine the situation is similar in Russia right now.) The film amusingly features almost no female characters, as it is largely absorbed in the world of serious uniformed guys doing serious military business. Occasionally, the claustrophobic nature of submarining is used for a novel – never suspenseful but interesting – moment. Such as when a smaller, research sub is deployed to explore a deep sea graveyard of sunken ships. However, "Kraken" proves disappointingly stately and dry in its focus on militaristic authority. A lot of this motion picture is devoted to Russian seaman tersely talking and arguing among themselves about what they may or may not be doing at any given moment. 

The presentation is almost suffocating in its stiffness. The musical score is largely composed of classical sounding compositions, heavy and ominous, that maintain the impression you are watching a march-like presentation. The film cannot be critical of the military in any way, which would disrupt its purpose as propaganda. A little bit of conflict arises between Viktor and Olshansky, over who is more worthy to lead the mission. Viktor is, of course, the best soldier for this job, which makes any tension between him and the other officer ineffective. Realizing that's a dead end, the script often focuses on the relationship between the Voronin brothers. Viktor has often felt in the shadow of his big brother, who has also been absent for most of his life. It feels like entirely inessential melodrama, inserted to give the story some depth but not well-formed enough to actually compel in any way. Furthering the purpose of the film, this being a family affair for Viktor makes him a better officer. Serving Glorious Mother Russia is in his blood. 

All the droll submarine shenanigans and maudlin brotherly conflict raises a big question: Isn't this a movie about a giant sea monster? We are nearly an hour into the movie before the enormous tentacles of the Kraken slither on-screen. While I would say the quality of CGI here trails behind the Norwegian production a bit. A scene featuring a pod of whales has the shakiest effects. The big-ass cephalopod still looks neat. A sequence where it destroys an oil rig is the best in the film. When emphasizing the huge eyes or scale of the beast, "Kraken" almost becomes an effective kaiju movie. Unfortunately, this takes up a small percentage of the film. You can tell that "Kraken" is not so concerned with the kraken, as it continues on for a bit after the monster is defeated. You would think a leviathan squid destroying huge structures and chasing the submarine would be dramatic enough. Instead, the film tries to drive tension from its characters, from the inter-officer conflict and concerns over whether the researchers can be trusted or not, but the characters are too one-note that to work at all.

The result is a film that is largely inert. The pacing is glacial, the script so consumed by the stakes of its military arguments and standard arc for the brothers that the movie rarely feels like it's moving. Why isn't a movie called "Kraken" more about a kraken reeking havoc? I guess that would, once again, conflict with the movie's purpose to make the Russian Navy look professional and powerful. At least Michael Bay movies and "Top Gun" have scenes of the U.S. military doing cool shit or explosions or something. "Kraken" is too stately and confined for that. I am always reluctant to declare a movie "boring," as this criticism usually points towards an unwillingness to engage with a film on its own level. But, damn, "Kraken" is fucking boring. About five minutes of the tentacled giant looking threatening or dragging something under the water does not justify how hard I was fighting sleep through this one. If this is any indication, Nikolai Lebedev and his team and presumably government overseers have a lot to learn about making an extended advertisement for the Russian military entertaining, much less a thrilling or fun giant monster movie. [4/10]

Terror-Creatures from the Grave (1965)
5 tombe per un medium

Recently, I was listening to an interview with prolific film journalist, author, interviewer, historian, life-long monster kid and all-around character David Del Valle. Mr. Del Valle is also a former agent and long time friend of Barbara Steele. Among the Dame Steele stories Del Valle shared was an anecdote about how she briefly dated J. Michael Muro, the director of "Street Trash," and was horrified by the script for that film. He capped the tidbit off by saying she is "such a snob." The evidence seems to bear this out. Among her on-and-off reluctance to discuss her horror films over the years, we also have the recollection of filmmaker Massimo Pupillo. He directed Babs in "Terror-Creatures from the Grave" and claims Steele was a total diva on-set, until he berated her before the entire cast and crew.  Well, whatever actually happened and whether Mr. Pupillo was justified in his rant, Steele never let her frustration with her career ever show on-screen. "Terror-Creatures from the Grave," "5 tombe per un medium" in the original Italian, is another gothic chiller that the star brought her particular presence to, totally professionally. 

Attorney Albert Kovac is summoned to the small town of Breggoville, to the estate of Jeronimus Hauff. Upon arriving at the glowering mansion, he learns that Hauff actually died one year ago under mysterious circumstances. Breggoville was the site of a hideous plague centuries before, supposedly intentionally spread by five warlocks. Jeronimus was obsessed with the legend and amassed a wide collection of artifacts related to the tale. His widow, Clio, has little positive to say about her deceased husband. She is among the five people, stipulated in Jeronimus' will, to be present as his body is relocated a year after his death. Anthony stays behind to get to the bottom of this. (Also because he's been charmed by Corrine, Hauff's beautiful daughter.) A curse on the land is often spoken of and people begin to die mysteriously around the mansion, causing suspicion that Jeronimus has returned from the grave to seek revenge on those who wronged him in life. 

Owing to all of them imitating Bava's "Black Sunday," any sixties Italian horror flick with Steele can be counted on for some voluptuous ambiance. This is the sole horror credit of cinematographer Carlo Di Palma, better known for photographing films by Antonioni and Woody Allen. I'm guessing he'd prefer classier fare too but, like Miss Steele, any reluctance is not apparent in the work itself. “Terror-Creatures from the Grave” looks great. Many of the courtyards and cemeteries are thick with fog along the ground. The castle is decorated with shadows, often crossing the performer's faces. Di Palma's camera work brings along some of that Bava-esque smooth camera movements and stylized angles. A shot staring up out of an empty grave is a highlight, as is a moment when some tomb lids slide off on their own. 

“Terror-Creatures” is also notable for being a little bloodier and sexier than Steele's other Italian gothics. The central image of the film are the five hands of the plague spreaders, cleaved off and mummified and now displayed on a wall. The specific of what this disease was are never mentioned but it seems to leave great, weeping wounds on the face and body. The opening scene lingers the effects of a horse stepping on a man's face. Another memorable moment has a man in a wheel chair creatively taking his own life, which goes so far as to feature some unspooling intestines in the aftermath. This film also features, for the perverts in the audience, the closest Barbara Steele ever came to actual nudity, via a bath scene. This is shortly followed up with what is surely one of her more extended sex scenes as well, though nothing much is shown. I mention this because I am a thorough reviewer, of course. 

Steele actually doesn't have nearly as much to do in the film as would've benefited her icy stare and otherworldly presence. As the bitchy widower of a clearly dickish man, she does get to queen it up nicely in a few scenes. Her character is, in easily the most obvious reveal in the film, partially responsible for her husband's death as a result of her lascivious affair being discovered. This is in contrast to Mirella Maravidi as the daughter, who is such a naive innocent that she borders on the childish at times. It's a clear example of the Madonna/Whore dichotomy, the hero running off with the sweet, virginal lass while the shrewish, unfaithful older woman is punished for her crimes. To be fair, most of the characters in “Terror-Creatures” aren't that likable or fleshed-out. Walter Brandi, as Albert, spends most of the film denying anything supernatural is happening. This is supported by a very bored sounding voice-over. 

For a while, I was wondering if “Terror-Creatures” would end up pulling a gaslighting style plot. Perhaps Jeronimus only faked his death as a predecessor to flushing out his enemies and philandering wife? The uncertainty over his exact fate, as in a scene where someone seems to see him sitting in a chair before he vanishes, pairs with a detective storyline that suggests such an ending. Instead, the film does bend towards witchcraft and some actually creatures from the grave  eventually. How terrifying they are is debatable. In fact, the evil spirits never appear on-screen, operating only as ghostly voices and invisible forces. Perhaps that is why the film ups the flesh and blood, to compensate for the lack of actual monsters. 

 

Despite being mid-tier Steele, owing to the drippy lead, mediocre script, and fewer freakies, I still enjoyed myself with “Terror-Creatures.” What can I say, I'm a slut for some black-and-white gothic atmosphere. Another amusing element of the film is that, the opening credits make the claim that it's based on an Edgar Allan Poe story. I guess, if you squint, you can see traces of “Masque of the Red Death” or “Fall of the House of Usher” here, with the emphasis on the plague and the story of a guy traveling to a far-away, doomed abode. At least “Castle of Blood” actually made Poe a character in its story to justify putting his name in the credits. All in all, there's enough shadowy ambiance, one or two spooky moments, and enough moments of Steele glaring with those saucer eyes of her to justify the 83 minutes I spent watching it. Snob or not, nobody could glare like her! [7/10]

 

Unsolved Mysteries: Season 1, Episode 11

The Satanic Panic of the eighties and early nineties remains a topic of fascination for a lot of people. Partially because, in retrospect, it is so laughably obvious as an example of mass hysteria. Also because it never really ended, the exact same rhetoric that was used to accuse daycare center owners of summoning Satanic Chuck Norris in the eighties now simply shift to whatever target of scorn the right-wing is mad at this week. (Usually immigrants and queer people.) Programs like “Unsolved Mysteries” probably deserve some of the blame. For stoking fears around the utterly unfounded belief that Satanic cults were roaming American small towns. Or that harmless hobbies, like heavy metal or horror movies, came with diabolic influence. The show was making that connection as early as its first season. 

The third segment concerns the death of Kurt McFall, a seventeen year old kid from Simi Valley, California. Kurt had been getting into Dungeons and Dragon, medieval reenactment, and pagan religion. While staying at a friend’s house, he allegedly went out into the middle of the night, saying he couldn’t sleep and was overheated. The next morning, his body was found dead at the bottom of an ocean-side cliff. He had not drowned and had died from impact trauma. The implication seems to be that he fell to his death. His father, Tom, claims he got a phone call earlier that night. Saying that Kurt had become involved in a Satanic cult, that he “knew too much,” and was trying to escape the group. He also found some edgy drawings and witchy knickknacks in the boy’s room. This is basically the entire basis of Mr. McFall’s belief that his son was murdered. “Unsolved Mysteries” does track down an unidentified speaker, a supposed friend of Kurt’s that was in this cult with him, but that’s it. 

In other words, this “Unsolved Mysteries” segment does a good job of illustrating how the Satanic Panic worked in many cases. I don’t believe Tom McFall was acting with any malice when he made these claims. He says that the beer bottles around Kurt’s car must have been planted, as his son didn’t drink. Because teenagers are always honest with their parents about their alcohol in-take. He finds some gory pictures in his son’s room alarming, when that sounds like pretty normal behavior for nerdy teen boys to me. He tries to paint the pagan circle the kid was involved with as sinister, when they just look like dorky guys taking on Welsh names and doing some vintage prayers. The unexpected death of your child, at such a young age, is an awful burden for any parent. A random accident leading to his boy’s premature end is a chaotic, shitty bit of happenstance. In his grief, Tom McFall looked for patterns to explain his loss. He landed on the, by then well publicized, trend of D&D and devil-worshiping luring young men into sinister territories. As for that phone call the dad claims he received? Or the testimonial of the friend? Who is to say but it is easy to imagine that, while reeling from the loss of your child or friend, your mind can convince itself all sorts of memories happened. 

The unreliable quality of memory and parents, perhaps, not knowing their kids as well as they hoped are reoccurring trends in this episode. The first segment concerns a seventeen year old girl, secretly dating an older man who had gotten her pregnant, being involved with the murder of a co-worker.  The second follows a man locked up for a robbery, despite numerous witnesses that he was at home during that time. A cop claiming he saw the guy roughly right after the robbery occurred and the testimonial of someone who had never met the man before convinced the jury. Meanwhile, a cop in the first case believes that the teenage girl, groomed and manipulated by a dirt bag, is just as guilty of murder as her partner. Kind of makes the police look bad, ya know! Anyway, this “Unsolved Mystery” is an interesting time capsule more than anything else. Though there are some good shots of Robert Stack wandering spooky woods in a trench coat. [6/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Quilt of Hathor
 

For some reason I have not been able to decipher, basic cable programing became fascinated with the Amish sometime last decade. Increasingly bullshitty reality shows would soon spawn trashy TV movies with hilarious titles like “Amish Stud” and “Stalked by My Amish Boyfriend.” So-called Amishsploitation is not an altogether recent phenomenon. Genre films and television periodically remember that we've got whole communities of weird, quasi-agrarian, religious cults in this country. Like Wes Craven's “Deadly Blessing” before it, “Friday the 13th: The Series” doesn't actually call its clearly Amish-coded group by that name. Instead, “The Quilt of Hathor” is set among the Pentitites. Micki and Ryan arrive in the village looking for a cursed quilt, which allows the holder to murder others through their dreams. A woman named Effie Stokes is using the quilt to bump off any woman that expresses romantic interest in the village's leader, Josiah Grange. As the duo are snooping around the town, Ryan starts to fall in love with Laura, Josiah's daughter. 

Amishsploitation tends to focus on the most outwardly unusual aspects of Amish society. Ya know, the horse and buggies and hats and black clothes and barn raising and old-timey speaks and all that. This ignores the actual sinister thing about communities like this: All the child abuse and a culture designed to silence anyone who speaks up about it. “The Quilt of Hathor” almost hints at this. The very first scene has Josiah attempting to court a barely legal young woman. Rather than comment on the sketchiness of the community leader deciding the teenage girl should be his bride, this is merely a set-up for the episode's Villain of the Week. Effie Stokes, identified as “plain” and ignored by Grange, uses the titular Cursed Artifact to murder her romantic rivals. This happens with startlingly frequency, as Josiah happily moves onto who ever is next in line after his last would-be spouse dies mysteriously. This unwittingly paints the man as either incredibly stupid or unforgivably evil. Considering the same town outright acknowledges that they arrange marriage for kids as young as eight, I'm leaning more towards the latter.

Of course, “Friday the 13th” wasn't that kind of show. Instead, it simply uses the setting for novelty. Micki and Ryan go “undercover” in the community but barely try at all. It's about five minutes after meeting her that Ryan falls for Laura, beginning to court her immediately. This makes his cliffhanger providing declaration of love hard to swallow. We expect this guy to abandon his modern lifestyle for the Pentitite way when he can't be bother to observe any of the rules up to that point? Micki is upset by the announcement and, inevitably, it plays as a romantic rejection. She insists that she's only upset because she doesn't want to hunt down all these evil doodads with just Jack to help. However, her argument turns towards cries of “but what about all the time we've spent together?” very quickly. These two cousins should go ahead and kiss already. I'm sure the Amish are okay with that too.

As for the horror elements, they are quite silly. Perhaps the show writers realized that “evil quilt” is not the best logline for a story. Having deadly nightmares occur when someone hugs the quilt is a decent work-around, that also blatantly recalls the “Nightmare on Elm Street” series. We've got no Freddy Krueger here, only reoccurring dreams set in a vaguely French Revolution era palace. I guess that's what an Amish lifer would imagine as decadent and corrupt. I did kind of like the scenes devoted to Laura's assigned future husband trying repeatedly to kill Ryan. A scene where he's throwing a pitchfork around is mildly suspenseful. The resolution to this rivalry involves an “American Gladiator” style fight over an open fire, which is certainly something to see. Silly episode but not without its moments. [6/10]

Halloween 2026: September 27th

 

Kraken (2026)
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pure Blood (1982)
Pura sangre

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amazing Stories: Welcome to My Nightmare

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

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

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

Friday the 13th: The Series: Brain Drain

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

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

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