Halloween 2019: September 25th

House of Usher (1960)

Throughout the 1950s, American International Pictures had found great success releasing cheapie, black-and-white monster movies, usually distributing them as double features to drive-ins. As a new decade dawned, AIP started to loose market share to a series of bloodier, sexier, brightly colored, gothic monster movies from some British studio named Hammer. Noticing this, Roger Corman convinced the studio heads to spend the amount of money they'd usually save for two movies on one, shot in widescreen CinemaScope and vivid Technicolor. To match the literary adaptations Hammer had been making, Corman decided to adapt an American source material: Edgar Allen Poe's “House of Usher.” Vincent Price, definitely the U.S. equivalent to Peter Cushing or Christopher Lee, would star. The resulting film would be a huge success, prompting AIP, Corman, and Price to re-team on a whole series of Poe adaptations.

Philip Winthrop travels into the Baltimore countryside to the crumbling, ancestral home of the Usher family. He's there to retrieve his beautiful young fiance, Madeline. Her older brother, Roderick, refuses to let her leave the home. Both Madeline and Roderick suffer from a strange malady, being overly sensitive to any loud noises, bright lights, or touches. Moreover, Roderick is obsessed with the family's long history of madness and murder. He believes that Madeline will die the minute she leaves the house. This fear seemingly comes true as Madeline is struck dead overnight. Quickly burying her, Philip quickly realizes that Madeline wasn't truly dead when Roderick placed her inside the stuffed family tomb.

Compared to the shock-filled monster movies AIP largely made up to this point, Corman's “House of Usher” aims for a different kind of scare. From the opening credits, with their swirl of psychedelic colors, it's clear “House of Usher” is trying to create a dream-like atmosphere. The dilapidated Usher house is always surrounded by fog, which glows almost purple under Corman's camera. The building itself is composed of winding staircase, dusty hallways, and darkened corners. The distorted family portraits are an especially creepy touch. Corman seemed determined to prove that color could be as atmospheric and creepy as black and white. He makes a good case, as “House of Usher” looks deeply moody. The titular abode is rift with uneasy energy.

That uncanny quality is increased by the tremors that shake through the building form time to time. The film is supported by an excellent score and quite good sound design, making the “House of Usher” an even more unsettling place to be at. That tension is eventually released. Sometimes through a chandelier shaking loose and nearly crushing Madeline and Philip. Sometimes through a trippy dream sequence, in which Philip walks into a party occupied by the madly grinning Usher ancestors. That sequence – with its blue-tinting, mad faces, and suddenly appearing skeletons – borders on the campy. However, that campiness is short-lived. When the gone-mad Madeline pulls herself from her tomb, eyes glaring ahead in steely concentration, it's practically shocking. Corman definitely makes the film's fiery climax hit with a lot of impact.

Mark Damon's Philip is technically the protagonist of the film. Damon, who was appealing in his various films with Mario Bava, is fine here. He comes off as a little stiff, when trying to reason with the clearly unhinged Roderick. But his scenes with Madeline, played by the bubbly and lovely Myrna Fahey, are cute and he's allowed to go a bit over-the-top later on. Of course, Vincent Price is truly the star of the show here. Price does not play Roderick as an over-the-top villain. Instead, he's someone consumed by his fears, utterly terrified of the family curse he's built up in his mind. Price, of course, could panic with the best of them. When Roderick's worst fears start to come true, Price unleashes the wailing madness that's floated within the character the entire time.

It's a testament to Edgar Allen Poe's standing within the American mind that “House of Usher” would prove so popular in 1960. It's not really a ghost story, monster movie, or psycho-thriller in any ordinary sense. It's hard to say if anything supernatural even happens in the film. Instead, it's all about neurosis boiling over, repressed passion – some clearly bordering on the incestuous – driving the residents of the home mad. And the destined-to-fall Usher house is one that reflects as much on its occupants as they reflect on it. This template of gothic settings and psychological madness would prove fertile for Corman and Price, at least for a while. “House of Usher” gets the Poe Cycle off to a pretty great start. [8/10]

Fire in the Sky (1993)

I've mentioned before how the nineties brought with them a newfound interest in alien abduction stories. I'm not sure what was going on in the culture that people where suddenly fascinated with nocturnal visits from greys and anal probing. Maybe “Communion” was a bigger deal than I recall. Maybe we were all just eagerly hoping for proof of life on other planets. Yet these far out ideas, of people being zapped out of their beds at night and into alien space ships, where passionless visitors performed strange test on them, were about as mainstream as possible. Look no further than “Fire in the Sky.” Based off a supposed abduction experience that occurred in the 1970s, the film was a 15 million dollar production from a mainstream studio. Keep in mind that budget was a lot more money in 1993.

The place is Snowflake, Arizona. The time is November, 1975. Travis Walton, a well-liked guy, heads off to work with his co-workers – including best friend Mike Rogers. After a hard day spent cutting trees, they drive home that night through the woods. This is when they see the sky lit up in red. An unidentified flying object floats through the sky. Travis gets out to investigate and is struck by a ray of light from the craft, tossed backwards. His friends drive off, terrified, before returning and finding Travis gone. The local police initially treat Travis' disappearance as a potential homicide, investigating Travis' friends. Five days later, Travis is found, clearly traumatized. He recounts a traumatic encounter with extraterrestrials.

Including “Fire in the Sky” as part of a Halloween horror movie marathon is probably slightly misleading. This is not truly a horror film. For most of its run time, it's a mildly tense drama about life in a small town being disrupted. Snowflake, Arizona is depicted as fairly idyllic, occupied by wholesome families and good-natured good ol' boys. Travis Walton's disappearance, the idea that a well-liked member of the community was possibly murdered, disrupts that peace. The group of Travis' friends are harassed by pokey cops and local hard-asses. They almost get into fist fights, with each other and other people. Moreover, Mike and his friends are unsettled by the feeling that no one believes them, that the world is turning on them. This stuff is mildly interesting, executed decently enough, but is barely enough to build a movie around.

This stuff is not what people remember about “Fire in the Sky.” Instead, the film's alien encounter is utterly fantastic. The UFO's appearance is proceeded by the night sky turning bright red, an unforgettable sight. The image of Travis levitating into the air, under the beam of light, is dream-like. Powered by Mark Isham's pounding score, the sequence is appropriately thrilling. Yet it's nothing compared to “Fire in the Sky's” climax, where Travis recounts his experience on the alien craft. It's a truly bizarre and nightmarish special effects reel. He awakens in a fleshy cocoon, floats up a part organic/part industrial tunnel, and ends up crashing into a decomposing corpse. The aliens first appear in silvery, black-eyed suits. Which is creepy enough but the creatures themselves, beady-eyed potato monsters with utterly dispassionate gazes, are among the creepiest extraterrestrial ever put to celluloid. The claustrophobia and gross sliminess is ratcheted up when the aliens in case Travis in a mucus-y membrane before shoving some sort of apparatus down his throat. It's an intense series of nightmarish images that are truly unforgettable.

Helping sell “Fire in the Sky” during its less interesting moments is a fairly capable cast. The film is a rare starring role for Robert Patrick and he's really given a chance to show his ability. As Mike, Patrick gets to play an average man that is put in a hard spot, accused of killing his closest friend in the whole world. D.B. Sweeney, as Travis, spends his early scenes as the most likable guy in the world. Which is a lot to swallow. Once he returns to earth, clearly suffering from some alien-induced PTSD, Sweeney's performance becomes a lot more compelling. James Garner has a showy part as the state police officer brought in to investigate the case. Garner brings all the folksy wit to the part you expect from him.

:”Fire in the Sky” did not exactly burn up the box office charts in 1993 and it would seem the film disappeared from the public memory soon enough... Until recently, when it seemed to me that a bunch of people my age – people old enough to have seen this movie on VHS or cable when they were kids – have started talking about the nightmarish abduction sequence. Even if the rest of the movie isn't that memorable, those scenes definitely make an impression. The whole movie is worth seeing for them. Oh, by the way, the true story the book and movie are based on does not hold up to much scrutiny, you might not be surprised to read. [7/10]

Tales from the Cryptkeeper: Dead Men Don't Jump

Basketball was such a cultural force in the nineties, with Michael Jordan being one of the biggest celebrities in the world and everyone knowing someone who owned a Chicago Bulls jersey, that even a children's horror series felt the need to riff on the sport. “Dead Men Don't Jump” follows teenager Nathan, who frequently forgoes school in order to hustle at basketball. This is encouraged by his unscrupulous “manager” Marvin but greatly concern his studious little brother, Erin. Marvin sets up a one-on-one match that he swears will be Nathan's route to fame and fortune. Yet this is no ordinary basketball game. The other player is a towering, Grim Reaper-like figure and Nathan's very soul is on the line.

I feel like “Dead Men Don't Jump” – another good title – had the opportunity to comment on how the sports industry sells dreams to underprivileged kids that are ultimately unobtainable. Of course, a Saturday morning cartoon was never going to do that but this is still a stronger episode. I'm a sucker for stories about competitions between immortal beings and regular humans, their souls being the wager. Applying this to basketball is something I don't think I've seen before. As silly as it sounds, the hooded b-ball player from beyond is actually a fairly intimidating figure, especially with the way he toys with Nathan by going easy on him at first. This is one of season two's better animated episodes, with the abandoned court being fairly spooky and the various dunk accomplishments being well done.

Naturally, “Tales from the Cryptkeeper” tags something like a sappy moral to this story. Nathan realizes that there are no easy routes to success, that everything must be worked for. There's an element of “stay in school, kids!,” as well as some “Tortoise and the Hare”-style underdog success at the very end, which comes off as totally unearned. I'm also trying to figure out what's been bugging me about the host segments, with the new addition of the Vaultkeeper and the Old Witch. While the Cryptkeeper's puns ultimately direct the viewer to the story, commenting on or even enhancing its themes, the Vaultkeeper and the Old Witch's schtick exist for its own purpose. It's additional punnery and slapstick in a show that really didn't need it, which is why their act is feeling increasingly like nails on the chalkboard to me. Otherwise, this is a solid episode. [7/10]

Forever Knight: Capital Offense

“Capital Offense” is another episode of “Forever Knight” that is kind of hard to pin down. The episode details Nick and Schanke capturing Laura Garfield, an escaped convict from Texas who is wanted for brutally murdering her husband. Laura maintains her innocence, blaming a local scumbag for the crimes, and Nick is inclined to believe her. He recalls a town in 1800 century France, when a friendly nun protected him from a gang of bloodthirsty vigilantes. However, the present day case with Laura isn't as open-and-close as he memories from a decade prior.

“Capital Offense” has an interesting idea, that Nick ultimately puts his trust in the wrong person. Yet that twist is delivered in a rather mean-spirited tone, making it seem like the screenwriters really wanted us to hate Laura for some reason. (Her accent is annoying but, otherwise, I have no strong feelings about the character either way.)  It does lead to a dramatic ending, where Nick is feeling especially nihilistic and nearly gives into drinking cow's blood. The flashbacks to France are a lot more interesting, Nick showing some vulnerability as a young woman keeps him safe. The totally superfluous side stuff actually ends up being much more interesting in this episode. LaCroix got his old job as a radio DJ back and there's a running gag about Schanke wanting to go fishing with his wife. Both of those elements made me laugh. [5/10]