Halloween 2020: September 30th

Lake Placid (1999)

In the 1990s, the advances made in special effects – especially the advent of CGI – would cause studios to revisit cinematic fads of the past. Because the nineties was also the decade of Gen-X sarcasm, many of these revivals had their tongues planted firmly in cheek. So “Twister,” “Independence Day,” and “Volcano” blew up the disaster movie premise in terms of special effects and dumb-ass comic relief. We also got a wave of new monster movies, likely inspired by “Jurassic Park's” blockbuster status. Some – like “The Relic,” “Phantoms,” or “Mimic” – were mostly serious. The likes of “Deep Rising,” “Anaconda,” “Deep Blue Sea,” and 1998's “Godzilla” paired B-movie premises with big budgets and sarcastic screenplays. None of these end-of-the-decade creature features would be more glib than “Lake Placid.”

Despite the title, “Lake Placid” does not take place in the well known ski town in upstate NewYork. Instead it takes place in Black Lake, a small town in Aroostook, Maine. Sheriff Hank Keough is out on the titular body of water with a game warden, who is then pulled underwater and bitten in half by a large animal. Kelly Scott, a paleontologist from Manhattan, is brought in to investigated and quickly deduces that the teeth in the corpse is from a crocodile. A fish and game warden named Jake Wells and a crocodile-obsessed mythology professional named Hector Cyr soon join the hunt for the aquatic reptile. Soon enough, they find the thirty-foot long crocodile that is eating people.

“Lake Placid” was directed by Steve Miner, who certainly had lots of experience directing cheap thrills-filled genre pictures. The man behind “Friday the 13th” parts 2 and 3, “House,” and “Halloween H20” knew how to create a well-balanced giant croc flick. Clearly inspired by “Jaws,” the movie keeps the giant reptile off-screen for most of its run time. When the croc does appear, it usually in well utilized jump scares. A deputy getting his head suddenly lobbed off or the croc overturning a canoe happen suddenly enough to get a reaction out of the viewer. There's a certain degree of off-beat humor to how unexpected these moments are. Which is also clear in the scene where the croc drags a running bear into the lake. Miner even manages to generate some okay suspense, in a scene where Kelly is trapped underwater and nearly gets devoured. Yes, the CGI effects have aged pretty poorly, further justifying Miner's decision to limit the monster's screen time. (Stan Winston provides the practical effects, which are naturally excellent.)

Ultimately, it is not Miner's aesthetic that directs “Lake Placid.” The film was written by David E. Kelly. Yes, the creator of “Alley McBeal,” which was a pop culture phenomenon at the time. Kelly's script is defined by sarcasm. The characters speak entirely in snarky insults, directed at one another. The neurotic female protagonist – whose relationship troubles seem right out of “McBeal” – mocks the lack of niceties in rural Maine. Even though Sheriff Hank does his best to accept everyone, he is treated exclusively like a backwards hick. This is further emphasized when Cyr enters the story, as he's nothing less than belligerent in his tendency to insult the locals. There's also a saucy female deputy, who wants to sleep with him for no particular reason. “Lake Placid” even includes some hacky slapstick and crude sex jokes. Kelly clearly wasn't taking this seriously. That's also evident in the film's staunch refusal to justify how a giant saltwater crocodile could survive in frigid New England waters or how it even got in the lake in the first place.

Which isn't to say that the humor in “Lake Placid” is unsuccessful. A sequence where the heroes attempt to lure the croc out, by airlifting a cow, is pretty funny. The cast often goes a long way towards making the jokes work. It's less funny now, because we're so used to seeing her in this type of role, but casting Betty White as the foul-mouthed keeper of the crocodile was a good gag in 1999. Brendan Gleeson is entertaining as the put-upon Sherrif Keough, grimacing through all the abuse heaped on him with a grumpy frown and a barely disguised Scottish accent. (He's certainly a lot better than Oliver Platt as Cyr, who is at his most insufferable.) Bill Pullman has a more appealing snideness and plays off Bridget Fonda decently, even if the romance between them is a total non-starter.

Compared to the other killer animal thrillers from around the same time, “Lake Placid” would not be quite as a successful. Perhaps this is why 20th Century Fox would wait eight years before it started cranking out sequels. “Lake Placid 2” would be released direct-to-video in 2007, quickly being followed by five other DTV sequels, the most recent one being in 2018. Somewhere in there was a versus flick with the “Anaconda” franchise and a not-so-final final chapter. I have no idea if these sequels continue the original's smart-alack tone but, from what I hear, they do feature lots of shitty CGI crocodiles. As for the original “Lake Placid,” it has its moments but probably should have focused more on the crocodile mayhem than the sitcom style humor. The damn thing is only 82 minutes long though, so you won't be wasting much time on it. [6/10]

This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse (1967)

Esta Noite Encarnarei no Teu Cadáver

If “At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul” was Brazil's first horror movie, than “This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse” was destined to be Brazil's first horror sequel. Jose Mojica Marins would not immediately return to Coffin Joe. He would make two other films, in 1965 and 1966, at least one of which is supposedly a horror movie. (Though there's almost no information out there on it.) Yet clearly the vicious undertaker with the long fingernails was still rattling around inside his mind. A far more ambitious and more professional-looking sequel, “This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse” would continue the saga of Zé do Caixão, further turning Marins and his trademark character into genre icons.

The opening minutes of the sequel reveal that Coffin Joe did not die at the end of “At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul.” Apparently the vengeful ghosts of his victims just roughed him up a little. After some time in the hospital – and seemingly having learned nothing from his previous encounter with the supernatural – Zé do Caixão heads to another village. Joined by a henchman named Bruno, he continues his quest for the perfect woman to beget the perfect son with. After kidnapping, torturing, and murdering several women, he finds the ideal candidate. Yet  Zé soon finds himself pissing off the locals and facing another otherworldy curse. 

While its predecessor was truly the first of its kind, “This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse” is more of a traditional exploitation film. Marins' influences are more obvious. Coffin Joe gains a deformed sidekick named Bruno, likely inspired by “The Awful Dr. Orloff's” deformed sidekick Morpho. The film introduces a bevy of female characters, who spend most of their screen time in see-through negligees. The camera makes sure to zoom-in on their legs, thighs, asses, and breasts while spiders or snakes crawl over them. Marins clearly learned more about film-making between 1964 and 1967, so the sequel is more polished in its presentation... Which has the unfortunate side-effect of stripping away some of the home-made charm that was so appealing about “At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul.”

Marins didn't just spend the two years between Coffin Joe movies improving his technical know-how. “This Night” devotes far more time to its villain's philosophy. We see more of his soft spot for kids, like in an almost sweet moment where he saves a boy from a speeding motorcycle and calms his tears with a small music box. This protectiveness extends to fetuses, making Coffin Joe one of the few explicitly pro-life horror villains. Watching Marins pontificate in his theatrical style is entertaining... Yet far too much of “This Night I'll Posses Your Corpse” is devoted to speechifying. Joe monologues at his unwilling harem, at Bruno, at his enemies, and – in one scene – even at himself. The pacing issues apparent in “At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul” really come to the forefront here, as the film stops cold whenever Joe begins his dissertations. At nearly two hours long, the sequel seriously starts to drag before it's over. I appreciate the character development but this was a bit much. 

And then there's the question of why Marins devotes so much time to Joe's  übermensch beliefs. No matter how gleefully sadistic the first film was – or how charismatic Joe is – your sympathies were clearly meant to lie with his beleaguered victims. In the sequel, Joe's adversaries are a greedy colonel, a not-too-bright strong man, and his thug-like friends. Though he occasionally gets his ass kicked, Coffin Joe ultimately outsmarts or kills all of them. When the mother of Joe's supposedly perfect offspring dies, his grief is played totally straight. Combined with multiple scenes of people, usually attractive women, praising Zé do Caixão as the perfect man, you begin to wonder if this project was an ego trip for its autuer. Other moments make me wonder if the film is more self-aware than that. After all, Coffin Joe is a hypocrite. As he sinks into a bog in the final minutes, he denounces his evil ways and begs God for forgiveness. An earlier scene, after hearing his bride is pregnant, has Joe rejoicing to the swell of the Hallelujah Chorus. This is a juxtaposition so absurd, it has to be deliberate. So it's hard to say how much we're suppose to relish in Coffin Joe's amoral antics or how full of shit he's suppose to be. 

For all its flaws, “This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse” is still capable of generating some effective horror imagery. The pure sadism in scenes of Joe slamming an axe into someone's face, or slowly crushing an enemy with a boulder, is still startling. The clear highlight of the film is Joe's nightmare vision of Hell. An eerie spectre – tall, thin, faceless, black-as-pitch – drags Joe from his bed. Hands bursts from graves and pull him below. While the rest of the film is monochrome, Hell is in searing, psychedelic color. Some of the sights, like red-skinned demons graphically jabbing damned souls with pitchforks, are classical. Others are truly bizarre, like a man transformed into a screaming wall of flesh. Heads, limbs, asses and boobs protrude from cave walls. This inferno is both blisteringly hot and freezing cold. The sound design, hellish shrieks and strange moans, is overwhelming. While the rest of “This Night” is devoted to trashy thrills and spooky atmosphere, its vision of perdition is truly unlike anything else I've seen, equal parts hokey and horrifying but totally original. 

It's only mentioned briefly but “This Night” reveals Zé do Caixão's real name as Josefel Zanatas. (The last name being the Portuguese word for “Satan” backwards.) This was part of a larger back story Marins conceived for the character. Apparently, Coffin Joe developed his nihilistic viewpoints as a solider in World War II. Marins clearly clearly didn't have the budget to depict that but I wish we had seen a little more of that back story. “This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse” can't help but pale in comparison to its predecessor. It's too long, too slow, and too talky... Except for that trip to Hell, which is amazing and makes the whole thing worth seeing. [7/10]

Night Gallery: A Question of Fear

Much like Rod Serling's earlier, better known series, not every episode of “Night Gallery” fell easily into the horror genre. Some episodes dealt with light magical-realism, comedy, or science fiction. Some episodes, however, went right after that goal of making people squeal. “A Question of Fear” has that most classic of horror premises. A man in a bar tells stories of his ghostly encounters, largely within the extremely haunted house he owns. A big game hunter and colonel – played by Leslie Nielson in an eye-patch! – inside the bar is unimpressed. He claims nothing can scare him. The owner makes him an offer: Stay 24 hours inside his house and 10,000 dollars is all his. As soon as the hunter steps inside the house, it's apparent something is up.

“A Question of Fear” doesn't waste much time getting to the point. Right after the bet is established, Nielson is immediately entering the home. After that, the episode starts bombarding the viewer with spooky stuff. Blood drips down onto hands, cobwebs line doorways, sinister laughter is heard. A very cool video effect is used to bring the ghosts to life, coloring them in pulsating rainbow hues. There's even an effective jump scare, when one such ghost leaps out suddenly at the camera. As we'd learn in the next decade, Leslie Nielson is extremely talented at keeping a straight face, no matter what. His nonchalance at the spook show happening around him is the perfect pairing to the in-your-face haunting.

“Night Gallery” being the kind of show it is, “A Question of Fear” has a twist about a third of the way through. After his first night in the supposedly haunted house, Nielson's colonel gets a very lengthy explanation behind the real reason he was invited here. This extremely talky sequence drags down the pacing of what was a speedy episode up to this point. Just when it seems like this dragging denouncement is reaching its point, the story concludes on a very underwhelming note. It's a shame that “A Question of Fear” wraps up so badly, as I was really enjoying it up to that point. Still, it is worth seeing for Nielson's performance. [6/10]

Forever Knight: Sons of Belial 

“Forever Knight: Season Three” gets spookier with “Sons of Belial.” While babbling in Latin, a woman runs over a cop before driving her car off a bridge. Nick and Tracy investigate, learning from her religious fanatic brother that she was seeing an exorcist. The cops go to meet the priest just as he's exorcising a man. At that point, the demon leaps into Nick. He soon feels a dark power creeping over him. After nearly attacking another vampire at the Raven Club, Nick talks LaCroix into taking him back to the exorcist. The whole ordeal reminds Nick of a time, during the Inquisition, where he and LeCroix were almost burned alive for the crime of being vampires.

Usually when TV shows take a stab at the demon possession genre, the results are pretty cheesy. It's hard to replicate “The Exorcist” and stay within network standards. “Sons of Belial” features lots of Nick making goofy faces, speaking in a deepened voice, and floating in the air. Yet the exorcism scenes are still strongly directed, generating a reasonable amount of frenzied tension. Bringing LeCroix into this situation was a good idea, as it forces the elder vampire to acknowledge the goodness inside his off-spring in order to save him. The flashback sequences are strong too, as it concerns Nick saving a man from the stake by revealing his fangs. (The flashbacks also reveal that Nick and LeCroix used to be atheist, which is a weird thing for vampires with a natural fear of the cross to believe.) On the downside, this episode intentionally rolls back the progress Nick and Natalie made in their relationship last time. Status quo is god, I guess. Still, this is definitely one of the better season three episodes so far. [7/10]

Halloween 2020: September 29th

At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul (1964)

À Meia-Noite Levarei Sua Alma

Brazilian horror films didn't exist before Coffin Joe. José Mojica Marins  was born in São Paulo, where his parents owned a cinema. Marins was making his own films by the time he was eighteen. After writing, directing, and acting in several features – a drama and a western – Marins had an idea. Foreign horror films had played in Brazil before 1964 but the country did not really have a tradition of native horror pictures. Inspired by a nightmare he had, Marins would conceive “At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul.” After the lead actor dropped out, Marins would step into the role of clawed villain protagonist, Zé do Caixão. (Literally translated as “Joseph of the Casket.”) Marins would appear as Zé many times in the sixties and seventies, across the Brazilian media landscape. These movies were totally unknown in America until Something Weird released them on VHS in the nineties, giving the main character the far catchier moniker of Coffin Joe. Though the Coffin Joe series quickly gathered an international cult following, many of Marins' bizarre, explicit, and fascinating films remain rare in the U.S. 

A small village lives in fear of the local mortician, a cruel man with gnarly fingernails known as Zé do Caixão. An outspoken atheist in a deeply religious community, Zé intimidates and violently attacks anyone who displeases him. He is also obsessed with the “continuity of the blood,” achieving an immortality of sorts by begetting a son with a “perfect” woman. After discovering his current wife is barren, he murders her and begins to pursue/terrorize Terezinha, his only friend’s girlfriend. As the bodies begin to pile up, and Zé’s reign of terror over the town continues, supernatural reprisal against him is promised. Zé dismisses all that... Until the ghosts of his victims arrive at midnight to take his soul.

“At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul” is especially fascinating as a country’s first attempt at a horror movie. Since there were no rules established for what Brazilian horror was, Marins mixed together different styles. The film begins with two ominous intros, one from Coffin Joe himself and one from a gypsy fortuneteller. She holds a papier-mâché skull and warns the weak-hearted people in the audience how scary the film is. The opening credits are filled with Halloween store horrors like bats, skeletons, and cartoon owls. (The latter of which appears in live action near the end.) Hokey terrors like a fuzzy tarantula and ghosts with echoing voices also show up. This kind of kids’ stuff scares stand in stark contrast to the film’s intense violence. Coffin Joe tears off a guy’s fingers with a shattered wine bottle, jabs out someone’s eyes with his pointed fingernails, viciously whips someone, and assaults a woman so badly she graphically commits suicide afterwards. The screams in “At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul” are both cheesy and spine-tingling. Goofy “safe” frights co-exist alongside exploitation movie brutality, creating an engrossing tonal mixture. 

Coffin Joe didn’t become a horror icon in his home country just because he was the first either. He is, of course, a despicable bastard who rapes, murders, and terrorizes wantonly. Yet there is, undeniably, a certain style about him. His wife admonishes him when he heads out to buy meat on a Friday. He quips in response “If I meet the devil while I’m out, I’ll invite him to dinner.” That’s just one example of the cruel but dark wit the character displays. Joe is also a little more complicated than just being an awful son-of-a-bitch. He protects children, seeing them as innocents that haven’t been corrupted by the world’s stupidity yet. He is kind to the clients at the funeral home. (His Nietzschian beliefs, protectiveness of kids, and disdain of religion makes Coffin Joe something of a predecessor to LaVeyian Satanism.) Marins’ acting is hammy and theatrical, especially during the long monologues he gives himself denouncing religion and the supernatural, but it’s certainly captivating too. Coffin Joe shows that amoral sociopaths are charismatic. 

As a director, Marins is interesting too. “At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul” was obviously produced very cheaply, the sets being minimal and special effects being charmingly home-made. The gore is more notable for how furiously deployed it is than how realistic it looks. In order to create a ghostly aura around a spirit, glitter was applied directly to the film cell. Marins often employs hokey visual techniques. Wipes and other cheesy scene transitions are used throughout. Whenever Coffin Joe has been driven into a murderous rage, his eyes become bloodshot via unconvincing dissolves. Yet the film’s approach isn’t ineffective. Marins is excellent at building a spooky atmosphere, especially as the ghosts close in on Coffin Joe. There’s even a really cool dolly shot in a small cemetery. “At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul” was doing things that had never been done before in its country. That innovation is captivating. 

The film is also compelling as a peek into another culture. Reportedly, Coffin Joe horrified Brazilians in the sixties as much for his atheism as for his beastly acts. The Catholic doctrine is so strong in this village, that someone daring to eat lamb on a Friday leads to gasps. “At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul” has that E.C. Comics formula, of a scumbag reaping havoc and then being supernaturally punished for his crimes. (Fittingly, Coffin Joe would become a horror comic host later on.) Yet the ghosts coming to claim Joe’s soul shows how spiritualism was a living force in 1960s Brazil. How ghosts were more facts-of-life than figures of fear. As much as the movie revels in Coffin Joe’s depraved acts, a moralistic structure is reinforced by the ending, where the title’s promise is fulfilled and the bad guy gets his comeuppance. This allowed Marins to have his cake and eat it too, disrupting the moral standards of the day but ultimately functioning within them. 

We know American and European horror films played in Brazil before Marins made his own. Certain shots - a hallucinogenic vision of Joe”s own funeral procession, a close-up in a pair of incoming lips - might’ve been influenced by Corman’s “Premature Burial” or Bava’s “The Whip and the Body.” Yet the film still comes off as a complete original, a true example of outsider filmmaking providing us with something that feels new. “At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul” has its flaws. It drags a little in the last act, despite being fairly short. Some people will probably be put-off by how the movie both cheers on and condemns Coffin Joe’s evil acts. Yet I’m still a fan of this one and Marins’ unique style, which still doesn’t feel like quite anything else. [8/10]

My Amityville Horror (2012)

As of this writing, there's around twenty-five movies attempting to cash-in on the “Amityville Horror” story to some degree. Considering the frequency with which these low-budget, direct-to-video rip-offs sprout up, I'm sure another one is in production as I write this. In all this time, few people have considered how the real people who lived in the notorious house must feel. Four additional families have lived in 112 Ocean Avenue since the Lutz' abandoned it, none reporting any supernatural activity. The real town has done everything it can to distance itself from the infamous pop culture story, including forcing the house to be totally redesigned. And yet the legend persist. A documentary made in 2012 would ask the audience directly to reflect on how the “Amityville” phenomenon affected the real people who lived through it.

Daniel Lutz, the youngest son of the Lutz family, was eight years old when the events supposedly recounted in the “Amityville Horror” book and movie occurred. Now an adult, Daniel is a troubled man who is still haunted by his memories of what happened during his childhood. Director Eric Walter interviews Danny as he recounts the by-now notorious events that continue to linger in his memory. The interview eventually reunites Danny with notorious paranormal investigator Lorraine Warren, shows him seeing his psychologist, and the other ways he has attempted to grapple with the events of his past.

Docs like this live and die based on how interesting their chosen subject is. On one hand, Daniel Lutz seems like an ordinary guy. He talks about his job at the post office and unwinds in his spare time by playing guitar. Yet the cameras bring out another side of him. Lutz is often belligerent with the director – apparently they are friends in real life – expressing disgust at the filmmakers for making him tell these stories. There's a lot of anger in Lutz, much of it poorly hidden and some of it directed at himself. But the guy has good reason to be pissed. He watched his traumatic childhood play out as a series of increasingly trashy horror films. When describing an incident where Harry the dog nearly hung himself while attempting to jump a fence – a vivid episode from the book left out of the films – you can tell these memories are still raw for Danny. “My Amityville Horror” forces us to consider the real person behind all the cheesy horror movies. 

Walter gives time to Daniel's version of events. He reiterates well-known occurrences, like the attic bedroom full of flies or spotting the demonic visage of Jody the pig in the window. He relates less notorious scenes, like a fully visible apparition passing through the kitchen in front of the whole family. Or George Lutz levitating a wrench in his garage. While Daniel seems absolutely certain of his experiences, to the point where he's insulted by the mere suggestion of taking a lie detector test, the film around him is less sure. A reporter who was inside the actual house recalls nothing unusual. Even a trio of paranormal experts are dubious about some of the Lutzes' claims. A visit with the late Lorraine Warren is almost comical. Her pet roosters squawk all through out the interview. She presents a dime store crucifix as a piece of the true cross and is gravely concerned when an agnostic cameraman admits he's never been baptized. Later in the film, a psychologist suggests that Danny was young enough at the time of the events, that the pop culture version has supplanted his actual memories. Especially since the grown-ups around his then-impressionable, eight-year-old mind were insisting on a supernatural interpretation. That strikes me as the most plausible explanation. 

Evil spirits or not, Daniel Lutz was clearly traumatized by something as a boy. He has no kind words for his stepfather. George Luz is described as a petty tyrant who acted less like a dad and more like a drill sergeant. Daniel refers to him as “the man who took my mother away” and expresses relief that he's now dead. When combined with a household that sounds like it was obsessed with the Satanic and demons, it's not surprising Danny went on to a troubled adolescence. The movies were all bullshit but they apparently got one thing right: George Lutz really was an asshole. In light of this, the claims of supernatural terror pale. The only ghosts inside 112 Ocean Avenue were those of abuse and manipulation.  

None of the other Lutz kids were interviewed for this documentary, so don't expect an in-depth recollection of what happened in that house. This is largely Danny's story and that's interesting enough on its own. A few reviews have called “My Amityville Horror” tacky, which I guess is fair. When compared to the narrative “Amityville” films and countless cable ghost shows, it comes off pretty well. Viewed as a companion piece to the outrageous films, it brings things back down to Earth. And childhood trauma is scary too, so it still fits in with any horror movie marathon. [7/10]

The Outer Limits: Nightmare

As I said last year, despite the highly regarded place it occupies among sci-fi nerds, I've seen very few episodes of “The Outer Limits.” When looking for classic episodes to include for Halloween, the series provides me with many choices. After much deliberation, I finally decided “Nightmare” from season one was the right one to choose. In the near future – or, at least, the near future of the late sixties – Earth is at war with an alien race from the planet Ebon. The Ebonites capture a troop of Earthly soldiers. In their prisoner-of-war camp, each man is subjected to tortures both physical and emotional due to the Ebonites' advance technology. The goal is to get the men to reveal military secrets. However, not everything is how it seems in this place.

Though not quite as surreal as the title suggest, “Nightmare” does benefit from its minimalist set design. Most of the episode takes place on a simple slate floor, set against white walls, with strange structures spread about. What was probably a budget saving measure gets turned into a effective choice by director John Erman. The Ebonites themselves are classical, pulp magazine-style aliens, with their green skin, elongated faces, and caped uniforms. Their monotone voices, as if they are shouting every line, is certainly creepy too. The horror content largely emerges from the bizarre test the aliens subject the men too. Such as melting the bones within their body, casting various illusions on them, or stealing away one of their senses. 

Yet “Nightmare” has more on its mind than just little green men and intergalactic war. The endless questions the aliens ask the men, many of which they do not understand, have a hint of Kafka-esque existential dread to them. As if the men could say whatever they want in response and still be punished for it. Eventually, the guys turn on each other, rendered paranoid but the constant demands to sacrifice one of their own. Eventually, a twist comes: The Ebonites are actually peaceful and the entire ordeal has been orchestrated by the American government. “Nightmare” was produced right before the start of the Vietnam War and not long after the end of the Korean War, which is referenced through dialogue several times. This distrust of an authority that is willing to sacrifice lives in order to gather intel was probably a commentary on Cold War ruthlessness. In retrospect, it becomes a critique of the U.S. war machine that sees young men as only resources, to be used and replaced. In other words, it's a still chilling and effective hour of television. [7/10]

Forever Knight: Night in Question

With seemingly no other ideas left, the “Forever Knight: Season Three” writers decided to use that old chestnut of easy amnesia. After chasing a criminal into a storage warehouse for parade floats, Nick is shot in the head. Though his vampire powers quickly heal the wounds, he awakens with no memory of who he is. He doesn't even remember that he's a vampire. Natalie uses this opportunity to get closer to him and try and cure his vampirism. LeCroix also arrives, in order to remind Nick of what he really is. Meanwhile, Tracy Vetter is also having a memory block about what happened the night before but remains determined to track down the killer. 

As hacky a plot point as a character getting a head injury and amnesia is, as it's not like there's any chance the main protagonist of the show will suffer permanent memory loss, “Night in Question” is still probably season three's best episode. Nick having to rediscover that he's a vampire makes for some decent conflict. The scenes of him interacting with his apartment, Natalie removing the signs that he's undead, are pretty funny. Seeing these two finally passionately kiss is satisfying too. The flashbacks, and his later actions, show us that Nick and LeCroix do care about each other, though in an odd way. Perhaps the reason this episode works so well is because Tracy Vetters is barely in it. When she becomes the focus in the final third, it becomes far less interesting. It leads to an underwhelming pay-off to what was a decent episode up to that point. [7/10]

Halloween 2020: September 28th

The Devils (1971)

In the early days of my film fandom, there were certainly many filmmakers who names I encountered frequently. It would be years before I actually got around to watching many of Lucio Fulci's or Gregg Araki's movies but, during my teenage years, I already decided they must be up my alley. Similarly, I read a lot about Ken Russell before seeing any of his films. This was owing to the general rarity, at the time, of many of his motion pictures. It's not like you could rent “Whore” from your local Blockbuster. Luckily, with the advent of sketchy streaming sites, I was able to see the likes of “The Music Lovers,” “Listzomania,” or “Salome's Last Dance.”  (Though, even now, there's about a dozen Russell movies I need to catch up with.) During his very controversial career, none of Russell's films would prove more controversial than “The Devils.” In fact, some consider this 1971 hybrid of historical biography, religious horror, and psycho-sexual melodrama among the most controversial films ever made.

As the text introduction informs us, this is a true story. Following the Thirty Years' War, Cardinal Richelieu orders Louis XIII to tear down the walls around France's cities, consolidating the different states. The King, however, previously promised the Governor of Loudun that the city would remain untouched. The Governor recently died, leaving Urbain Grandier – a beloved, handsome and sexually active, priest – as the upholder of that promise. Meanwhile, the abbess of a local convent – the hunchbacked Sister Jeanne Des Anges – develops a hysterical obsession with Grandier. Mad with jealousy after hearing Grandier has married a secret lover, Jeanne claims the priest is a sorcerer that has bewitched her. This “demonic possession” then spreads to the other nuns in the abbey, attracting much attention and giving those in power the excuse they need to remove the troublesome priest. 

“The Devils” is the kind of movie that gives about a hundred different things to think about. Watching in 2020, one element immediately comes to mind. In addition to everything else France was dealing with in 1632, the plague was also sweeping through Europe. Dead bodies pile up in the streets, the desperate utilize quack remedies, and many people wear masks. The rich and powerful, meanwhile, live charmed lives in fortified locations. While people are dying in Loudon, a foppish King Louis puts on elaborate dance performances and shoots Protestants dressed as birds. If a pandemic and the rich ignoring the plight of the poor doesn't bring 2020 to mind, perhaps the way “The Devils” depicts how religion is used as a bludgeon for politicians to get their way will. 

While the insight “The Devils” has into social issues remain startlingly relevant, I don't think this is what interested Ken Russell the most about the material. This is also a story about the horrors of sexual repression. Grandier is the closest thing the film has to a hero, due to his ability to balance his sexual desires, his religious beliefs, and his professional responsibilities. (Even then, his dick gets him in a lot of trouble.) Everyone else in the film is out-of-balance. The people of the King's court and the witchfinders the church hires are sexually depraved, hedonistic or sadistic. The nuns, and Sister Jeanne especially, attempt to repress their sexually wants. Inevitably, this boils over in hysterical displays of uncontrollable lust. They become like rabid animals, consumed by passions too long denied. 

Considering their backgrounds, the nun's sexual fantasies inescapably involve religious iconography. This leads to “The Devils'” most notorious, and blasphemous, moments. Such as Jeanne's fantasy about Christ – replaced by Grandier – stepping down from the cross and ravaging her. Or a widely censored scene where the nuns, driven into a sexual frenzy, pull down a crucifix and gratify themselves with it. Russell, of course, approaches all of these scenes with his typical baroque style. The manic editing and pulsating zooms match the unhinged moods of the characters. “The Devils” often feels genuinely dangerous at times, accurately capturing the madness it depicts. The stylized costumes and sets, such as the white halls of the abbey, create a demented sense of non-reality. This is a movie where Oliver Reed tossing a crocodile out a window counts as one of its more restrained scenes. Russell maintains this style with the film's explicit violence as well. Jeanne being given boiling enemas, Grandier having his legs shattered between wooden wedges, or the near constant torture, vomiting, and nudity is often overwhelming. “The Devils” is a non-stop assault on the senses. 

The part of Urbain Grandier was originally intended for Richard Johnson, who played the part on-stage. Instead, Ken Russell would slot his frequent leading man, Oliver Reed, into the role. This was a wise decision. Reed's raw masculine sexuality and ability to be both unhinged and dignified makes him ideal for Grandier. Vanessa Redgrave is similarly compelling as Jeanne. She is equal parts traumatized victim, conniving villain, and demented mad woman. Just about all the acting in “The Devils” is on this theatrical level. Michael Gothard, as the witchfinder Father Barre, barely hides his perverse sadistic pleasure behind a veil of righteousness. Graham Armitage' interpretation of Louis XIII is a theatrical dandy. This isn't the kind of movie you watch for subdued acting. Every performer in “The Devils” is on its page of unbridled hysteria. 

Wildly enough, “The Devils” was a major studio production, made by Warner Brothers after United Artists passed due to the contents of the script. It would become a major box office success in the U.K., the controversy no doubt drawing in audiences. Needless to say, I don't think W.B. is making movies like this in 2020. “The Devils'” content is so outrageous that a totally uncut version wouldn't emerge on home media until 2012. “The Devils'” placement within the horror genre is probably debatable but its disturbing violence, frequent mention of demons and possession, and genuine sense of madness makes it obvious to me. (And this isn't the only arty Euro-horror flick inspired by the same historical story.) While Ken Russell put many unforgettable moments on-screen, the sheer power of “The Devils” still remains largely unmatched to this day. [9/10]

Amityville: The Awakening (2017)

The remake of “The Amityville Horror” was the first film in the series in seven years and the first theatrically released entry in twenty years. This suggest there was limited interest in “The Amityville Horror” in the 2000s. That would change soon afterwards. In-between 2005 and 2017, twelve movies with “Amityville” in the title would be released on DVD. None of these films were officially linked to the previous “Amityville” books or movies, most of them being unrelated flicks simply capitalizing on a well-known urban legend. Into this crowded market place, Dimension attempted to release a found footage sequel called “Amityville: The Lost Tapes.” Once Franck Khalfoun, of the acclaimed “Maniac” remake, came on-board, the new film mutated into a traditional narrative feature. I was hopeful Khalfoun would bring something special to the material but, by the time I finally saw “Amityville: The Awakening,” it was clear this was another generic entry in the misbegotten series.

Belle is not your typical teenage girl. Her twin brother, James, has been a bed-bound invalid for years, following an accident. This has put a huge strain on Belle's relationship with her mom, who is obsessed with the unlikely possibility James will get “better.” The family – also including an aunt and a little sister – move into 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville, Long Island. Belle is initially unaware of the home's notorious history but her new friends quickly make her aware of it. At the same time, James' condition begins to improve. When paired with frightening visions and nightmares, Belle begins to suspect the notorious home's evil spirit is coming to possess to James' body.

At the very least, “The Awakening” contains some interesting ideas. The film is not a sequel to any of the previous films but instead takes place in “our” world, where 112 Ocean Avenue is a real place with a notorious history, that has spawned a long series of books and movies. (Some of which appear within this film.) To make an “Amityville” film that comments on the real town's relationship to its infamous legend is a really interesting idea. This ties into the theme of guilt. Belle knows her brother is basically dead but feels guilty that she can't shake that impression. James is a burden, honestly, but Belle hates that she feels that way about her brother. She's especially bothered by her mother's inability to move on. Linking a teen girl's guilt and complicated emotions, tied into a long ill sibling, is an interesting metaphor for a town that seemingly can't move past a crime that happened forty years ago.

As potentially interesting as “Amityville: The Awakening” might be, the execution is utterly uninspired. This is another stock-parts horror flick, filled with many of the worst cliches of the genre. There's multiple jump scares, spooky faces appearing in mirrors or windows suddenly. Loud shrieks on the soundtrack are paired with these images. Once again, the sound design is way overdone, with crackling noises and lumbering music heard during every minute. Fake-out dream sequences happen several time. As a horror movie, this is pretty lame, underwhelming in every way. There's no indication of the stylish direction Khalfoun brought to his “Maniac.” The film pauses to mock the 2005 remake – or at least crack an in-joke about Khalfoun's last movie being a remake – but ultimately isn't much better than it.

“The Awakening's” story is formulaic and slow-paced. It seems the plot screws around until lumbering suddenly into the climax at the end, the conclusion heavily foreshadowed and totally predictable. With such underwhelming scares and a bland story, all that's left to get the audience involved in “The Awakening” are the characters. Sadly, they kind of suck too. Belle has a lot of complicated emotions inside her but the film leaves little room for her inner life. Bella Thorne plays her as more irritated than disturbed by her experiences, her crying scenes being deeply unconvincing. (Part of the film's backstory involves Belle having nude photos of herself distributed, which certainly comes off as ironic considering recent development in Thorne's life.) The usually reliable Jennifer Jason Leigh plays the mom and is shockingly terrible. Leigh overacts in an ugly way, grunting through most of her dialogue and showing no parental affection towards Belle. Leigh's performance only gets more histrionic as the film goes on.

Ultimately, the story around “Amityville: The Awakening's” release proves more interesting than the movie itself. Filmed in 2014, the movie's release date would be pushed back five different times. This was mostly a result of the turmoil surrounding the Weinstein Brothers – the owners of Dimension Films – though the movie was also extensively re-edited after negative test screenings. This shifting went on for three whole years before the film was released for free on, of all platforms, Google Play. That seems like an awful lot of effort for a mediocre new installment in a long-in-the-tooth series that not a soul was demanding. When I first saw it, I rated “Amityville: The Awakening' extremely lowly. After watching my way through the rest of the series, I like it a little more. It's still pretty shitty but at least it's less aggressively bad than the remake. [5/10]

Thriller: The Grim Reaper

Last year, I reviewed an episode of “Thriller” adapted from a story by Robert E. Howard. This year, I settled on an episode written by another great pulp horror author: Robert Bloch. “The Grim Reaper” revolves around a disturbing painting of the hooded, skull-faced spectre of death himself. The artist who created the painting committed suicide immediately upon completing it. Now, the scythe inside the painting is said to bleed, an omen that someone near-by is about to die.  The painting is currently in the possession of famed mystery author Beatrice Graves. Her young nephew Paul comes to visit, meeting her far younger husband. Paul explains the painting's curse but nobody takes it very seriously... Until people start to die.

Aside from Bloch's writing credit, there's another reason I wanted to watch “The Grim Reaper.” This was another early credit for William Shatner. The part of Paul plays to Shatner's strength, as he gets to explain the details of the cursed painting with all the melodramatic flare you've come to expect from him. His presentation of his bloody fingerprints are touching the painted blade are especially vivid. The painting itself, as far as paintings of the Grim Reaper go, is pretty creepy. The subplots, involving infidelity and inheritance, aren't very interesting. It's all just set-up for the inevitable betrayal, which is very easy to predict. However, the climax of “The Grim Reaper” is surprisingly creepy, the curse being fulfilled in such a way that we only see the victim's panicked face as the Grim Reaper claims them. Good stuff! Though I do wish Boris Karloff both introduced and concluded the episode, as we needed more of his sardonic words. [7/10]

Forever Knight: Let No Man Tear Asunder

The “Forever Knight: Season Three” formula of opening each episode with a little sex and violence reaches its most ridiculous form here. A woman gets a tattoo – in a bikini for some reason – before a man hits her with a crowbar and surgically removes her heart. This reminds Vetters of her uncle, who is awaiting a heart transplant. This leads her in the direction of an underground organ trafficking ring. Meanwhile, Natalie is undergoing surgery of her own, to repair a bum knee. I don't suppose those plot points will align in any way? While hunting down leads, Nick thinks back to a time in the 1800s when a friend of his asked the vampire to help retrieve a fresh heart for his near-death girlfriend. 

Once again, the show is still floundering with what to do with Tracy Vetters. She's given gratuitous connection with the Case of the Week, with the subplot involving her uncle – who we never actually meet on-screen – and a truly random expertise of tattoos. She still ends up getting captured too, though she is more proactive during the finale. Her subplot, which ties in with the organ harvesting story, wraps up in a very underwhelming fashion. The flashbacks are some of the more entertaining parts of this episode. Seeing Nick involved with a mad scientist of sorts, giving him electric jolts to cure him of his condition, is fun. I was really hoping the episode would go in a more Frankensteinian direction. It's a good thing the flashbacks are cool, as Nick doesn't do much beside sit at the computer in this episode. Though there are some cute ship teases between him and Natalie, which it feels like we haven't gotten in a while. [6/10]

Halloween 2020: September 27th

The Amityville Horror (2005)

When Michael Bay and Samuel Fuller formed Platinum Dunes, they had the incredibly cynical objective of taking well-known eighties and seventies properties and making them as slick as possible for modern audiences, for maximum profits. Their first assault on good taste was the 2003 remake of “Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” fittingly one of the most cynical films ever made. But this naked cash grab worked, as the blasphemous “Chainsaw” remake was a big box office earner. For their second redo, Platinum Dunes at least decided to remake a movie that wasn't very good. I was somewhat optimistic, in 2005, that “The Amityville Horror” could be improved upon. My high hopes were misplaced, as the remake of "The Amityville Horror" manages to be even shittier than some of those sequels.

2005's “Amityville Horror” follows the same general outline as the original. Ronald DeFio, at the urging of demonic voices, murders his entire family at 112 Ocean Avenue, Long Island. One year later, the Lutz family moves in. At first, the family of five is overjoyed by are soon disturbed by bizarre, supernatural incidents. George Lutz is especially targeted by the house's evil spirits. The biggest differences is that the remake greatly downplays the religious elements. The Catholic priest is reduced to two scenes. The demonic activity is given the origin of real life historical figure Jeremiah Ketcham. Jody the demonic pig is changed out for a little ghost girl and the red room under the stairs becomes a more muted affair. The walls still bleed though.

The “Amityville Horror” remake was directed by Andrew Douglas, who had previously done the documentary “Search for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus” and a number of music videos. If Douglas had a distinct visual style of his own, it's forced out by the stock-parts Platinum Dunes approach. The remake has the same overdone visual approach as the studio's “Texas Chainsaw” remake. Everything is gray or sickly green or slimy black. There's even that 2000s horror cliché of a shot of the sky swirling by overhead. The sound design is cranked up to eleven, every creak thundering on the soundtrack, every ominous whisper a scream. This is paired with a pounding, unrelenting musical score. The editing is frantic, especially in the almost unwatchable opening flashback. Ridiculous jump scares appear every few minutes, a spooky ghost girl, demonic face, or creepy hands leaping on-screen anytime there's a moment of quiet.

Because subtly isn't in the Platinum Dunes glossary, their “Amityville Horror” embiggens the famous scares from the original. Now a tidal wave of flies burst from the air vents. Blood leaks from the wall at every given opportunity. The babysitter locked in the closest is now an extended sequence involving the ghost child. That spooky ghost girl is a new horror cliché added to the “Amityville” stew. The remake seems especially enamored of her, as she floats in the window, makes goofy faces, shows off her bullet wound, and vamps in the most obnoxiously loud ways possible. Because this was 2005, an element of gory torture horror is somehow inserted into this haunted house story. The red room in the basement has been replaced with Ketcham's torture chamber, where George gets visions of mutilated Native Americans and is then showered with blood. 

As much stupid bullshit as the 2005 “Amityville Horror' adds to the pre-exisiting story, it doesn't attempt to fix one of the original's biggest flaws. George Lutz is still an asshole. Yes, the evil spirits in the house cause him to abuse his step-kids and badger his wife but that still doesn't make him sympathetic. Ryan Reynolds is woefully miscast in the part. Reynolds attempts to add some of his trademark snark to early scenes but it does little to enliven the character. As a man whose sanity is threatened by an evil house, Reynolds is far from convincing. (His sculpted, six pack abs also stick out like a sore thumb in the seventies setting but it's not like Platinum Dunes cared about that.) Melissa George is only moderately better, giving a histrionic performance as Kathy. A tiny Chloe Moretz, as the youngest daughter, is probably among the film's more convincing casting choices.

While I'm doubtful the Platinum Dunes team ever thought much about this kind of thing, 2005's “Amityville Horror” does update the original's subtext in almost an interesting way. The original “Amityville” was all about the stresses of owning a new house, how a dream home can turn into a living nightmare through nickeling and diming you. The remake, meanwhile, is about how you never really know your new husband or stepdad. The kids are suspicious of George, uncertain if he can replace their dead dad. (Dead parents are, apparently, a reoccurring pattern in this series.) Once he comes under the house's influence, it's clear he's not fit to be their dad. This throws Kathy for a loop too, as her loving husband turns into an abusive jerk, who can't even perform sexually. If the remake had run with this, it might've been something interesting. Instead, these ideas are dropped by the abrupt ending.

If I have to find something good to say about 2005's “The Amityville Horror,” it'll be these tidbits. A scene involving Rachel Nichols as an oversexed babysitter is mildly funny. Also, the remake is considerably shorter than the original, running only ninety minutes long. The ever litigious (real life) George Lutz would sue the producers of the remake. Apparently, he didn't appreciate the new film turning him into a dog-murderer who threatened his step kids with a shotgun. It's a really a testament to the shittiness of Platinum Dunes' style that they managed to make an “Amityville Horror' movie not only worst than the original but worst than any of the previous sequels. Thus is the power of garbage bag, 2000s-era studio horror. [3/10]

The Green Slime (1968)

It seems to me that the 1960s is when the international film market really opened up. English language pop culture icons – like Batman, the Beatles, and James Bond – became hugely popular all over the globe. Similarly, films from other countries start to filter into the United States to great success. As far as trashy genre fair goes, Japanese and Italian movies started to make an impact on the U.S. market. In 1966, MGM co-produced a quartet of science fiction films with Italian director Antonio Margheriti, about a space station called Gamma One. In 1968, MGM would take this idea – the space station renamed Gamma Three – to Japan. Partnering with Toei and director Kinji Fukasaku, the resulting film would be “The Green Slime.” 

The crew of near-Earth space station Gamma Three includes the courageous Commander Rankin, the combative Commander Elliot, and nurse Dr. Benson, whom both men are pursuing. Soon, the space station becomes aware of a large planetoid on a collision course with Earth. An astronaut team, including Rankin and Elliot, are dispatched to explode the giant space rock before it crashes into the Earth. That would be enough story for most films but “Green Slime” is just getting started. A moss-like green sludge grows on the planetoid and sticks to an astronaut's suit. Aboard the space station, it grows into a one-eyed space monster who shoots electricity and consumes energy. It also multiplies rapidly, putting the whole station at risk.

In many way, “The Green Slime” is a science fiction monster movie very typical of its era. This is an anti-septic future where people can wear mini-skirts and go-go dance on their space station. Intergalactic travel is as easy as jumping on a bus and astronauts just need to strap into their seats during escape velocity. The movie just stops short of depicting smoking in the future. The most expected of its expected story beats is the love triangle between Rankin, Elliot and Benson. The audience can immediately figure out which of the guys will end up with the (subservient, often panicking) woman, and that the alien threat will trim this threesome down to two. That doesn't stop the movie from including its fair share of bickering among the trio.

Yet the love triangles are not the reason you watch old sci-fi movies like this. It's for the delightfully hokey special effects. The miniature effects are not up to the standard of what Toho was doing around the same time, the space station often looking like a toy on strings. Yet there's something charmingly retro about the sets, especially the sequences on the rogue planet's rocky, red surface. The titular green slime is the main attraction here. Their single red eye, dome-shaped heads, and whipping collection of tentacles are pretty neat looking. They awkwardly stumble around the sci-fi sets, sparks flying from their tentacles. Most amusingly, the Green Slime make a comical chirping noise everywhere they go. Undeniably cheesy, the monsters are nevertheless charming in their own way.

Kinji Fukasaku would direct “The Green Slime” long before he made the yakuza movies that would make him famous. Even early in his career, Fukasaku's direction is colorful and energetic. He frequently adopts askew angles during the scenes of the Green Slime rampaging through the space station. Crash-zooms are utilized several times, to emphasize the impact of an explosion or attack. Memorably, the camera spins around when characters leap under a closing blast door. Or during the climax, where multiple astronauts float around in outer space while blasting the monsters with laser guns. It's extremely goofy but also fleet-footed and energetic, which suits the monster-filled material just fine. 

If the funky, silly, but undeniably fun tone “The Green Slime” is going for wasn't immediately apparent, the movie has a wonderfully ridiculous psychedelic theme song that plays at the beginning and end. The groovy guitars and melodramatic wails of “Green slimeeeeeeee!!!” are simply unforgettable. When I first saw “The Green Slime” on late night television – maybe the ideal way to see it – that theme song stuck with me more than even the lovably goofy monsters. The American cut runs a brief 89 minutes but, amusingly, the Japanese version is even shorter. Apparently it cuts out the love triangle and focuses exclusivity on the creature feature action. Never let it be said that Japanese genre filmmakers don't know what side of their bread is buttered. [7/10]

One Step Beyond: The Clown

Another important but often overlooked predecessor to “The Twilight Zone” – debuting nine months before it – is “One Step Beyond.” The anthology series ran for three years on ABC, from 1959 to 1961. “One Step Beyond” would distinguish itself from other fantastical anthology shows by claiming all of its stories were based on “true” accounts of the paranormal. (This makes it something of a predecessor to the later, and equally full-of-shit, “Beyond Belief.”) Each episode was directed and hosted by John Newland, who would grimly introduce each story with a documentary segment before the scripted scenes started. The show is almost forgotten today though I can recall seeing it on television rarely when I was a kid, probably owning to its semi-public domain status. Once again, I looked up the highest rated episodes of the show to make my selection. I decided 'The Clown,” from season two, sounded like a good choice for the Halloween season. 

“The Clown” begins with Tom Regan and his young wife, Nonnie, entering a bar. Tom is so insanely jealous that Nonnie so much as looking at another man can drive him into a rage. A carnival happens to be in town at the exact same time the couple get into a fight. Nonnie ends up befriending a mute clown named Pippo. When Tom catches Pippo and his wife innocently talking in his trailer, he stabs the girl to death. Pippo is left locked up, waiting for the cops to come. Yet Tom sees Pippo ominously looming behind him every time he looks in the mirror, the grinning clown drawing closer every time.

I wanted to watch “The Clown” because I figured it was an early example of the killer clown cliché. Which it is, though not quite how you might expect. Pippo begins as a benevolent figure, passing out balloons and making Nonnie laugh. But his painted face is uncanny enough of a sight that it easily becomes creepier once Tom's guilt begins to manifest. The episode takes way too long to get going, as the mysterious events don't begin happening until the show is half-way over. Tom is such a ridiculous asshole that it's hard to take him serious. Yet the central image of a threatening clown looming in mirrors is insanely creepy. It's more than enough to keep this brief half-hour afloat, even if Newland's melodramatic host segments border on the campy. 

Some have suggested that this episode might've inspired Stephen King's “IT.” I don't know about that – there's certainly plenty of other killer clown stories King might've drawn from – but I can say for certain another prominent storyteller was influenced by this episode. “Mirror, Mirror,” Martin Scorsese's episode of “Amazing Stories," was obviously inspired by this one. Several moments, like the clown appearing in the rear-view mirror of Tom's car, where directly ripped for the later episode. Scorsese did the same idea a little better but Pippo the Clown is way creepier than the fedora-clad villain the later director dreamed up. [7/10]

Forever Knight: Trophy Girl

Since “Silence of the Lambs” was a major pop culture phenomenon in the early nineties, it's unsurprising that so many cop shows would draw inspiration from the famous film. “Forever Knight,” naturally, was not above this inclination. During a shoot-out with some drug dealers, Tracy Vetters kills an attacker. The same night, the gruesome evidence of a serial killer – a murdered call girl, her dismembered body left on the beach – is discovered. Nick meets with a famous incarcerated serial killer, known as the Mortician, to pick his brain about this copycat. Still traumatized by the death, Vetters uses her three days of leaves to go undercover at the escort agency in find the killer... Which is exactly what happens, as she's soon abducted by the madman. Using the tips from the other killer, Nick hopes to track down the copycat before it's too late.

A plot about a cop killing someone in the line of duty plays really differently today than it did back in 1995. Still, “Trophy Girl” is the first time I think I've actually been interested in Tracy Vetters. Her guilt over the death causing her to personally try and track the killer represents her being more active and less whiny than usual. Though this growth is more than a little undermined by her immediately being grabbed by the guy and spending the rest of the episode tied up. The scenes where Nick interacts with the Mortician, played by experienced Canadian television actor A.C. Peterson, are a little more compelling. The serial killer immediately recognizes Nick as fellow brother in bloodlust. A subplot about the killer reaching out to his “fans” through message boards is amusing, if only because it presents the internet as a new novelty. (The identity of the Mortician's biggest fan is easy to guess, though a decent reveal.) The final act is a little more gruesome than expected, as it features several decapitated heads in jars. I think this is probably going to end up being one of the better episodes of “Forever Knight's” third season. [7/10]