Halloween 2020: September 23rd

The Birds (1963)

Sometimes, you don't find a movie at the right time. All throughout my young life, I heard about how scary Alfred Hitchcock's “The Birds” is. I had found some of the director's other classics – namely “Psycho,” “Rear Window,” and “Suspicion” – exactly as brilliant as their reputations implied. However, the first time I saw “The Birds,” as a teenage cinephile, it didn't blow me away. I could respect the craft in the film but I found it fell short of its terrifying reputation. Sometimes, hype backlash of this type is inevitable. Especially when you're dealing with the most critically acclaimed filmmaker of all time. Going back to re-watch “The Birds” in 2020, I had a very different reaction. Sometimes, you don't find a movie at the right time. Sometimes, it waits to find you.

The particularities of “The Birds'” plot is well known enough that there's not much point in recounting it. After a flirtatious encounter in a pet store, Melanie Daniels drives all the way up to Bodega Bay, California to bring lawyer Mitch Brenner a pair of love birds. She decides to spend some time in the town, getting to know Mitch and his neurotic family. That's when the local bird population goes berserk, gruesomely attacking every human they see. The most beguiling element of “The Birds'” story is also its most understated.  No explanation is ever provided for why the birds become violent. 

Birds are something we see every day, a normal part of life. There's nothing inherently sinister about a flock of birds. We don't think about how they outnumber us, how frenzied beaks and claws can tear our eyes out. By turning regular birds into terrible killers, Hitchcock disrupts our sense of normalcy. A flock of birds roosting on a playground jungle gym goes from a sight so common we don't even think about it, to a source of fear. This technique plays very differently in 2020, during the era of COVID-19. After the bird attacks, people are confined to the inside of their homes. A simple visit to a dinner becomes unbearably stressful when talks about the threat outside consume the conversation. People freak out, blaming others for no reason, very quickly. These feelings are all too familiar now, Hitchcock keenly aware with what it feels like to have our every day lives totally disrupted.

A few things establish that sense of normalcy early on. “The Birds” has no traditional score, making its scenes feel even more like regular events that could happen anywhere. The film's first half is rather intentionally drawn out, the birds attack not starting until about an hour in. Some of these introductory scenes are even rather awkward. The attempts at flirting between Melanie and Mitch are more hostile than charming. Since we're all aware now of the hideous way Hitchcock treated Tippi Hedren, one can't help but flinch at how Mitch 'charms” Melanie but negging her. Still, this slow build-up has a purpose. Hitchcock can't subvert the normal world until it's well established. A bird dive-bombing Melanie's head or flying into a door is weird but not terrifying. In context of what's going to happen, these events become more ominous.

So much of “The Birds” works because of a slowly rising tension. That wouldn't have as much value if the film wasn't also able to deliver deeply intense attack sequences. “The Birds” features some of the scariest sequences of Hitchcock's career. The birds bursting down the chimney, a normal living room become filled with peaking feathered furies, makes the viewer feel like the world is spinning out of order. That feeling of out-of-control chaos continues when the seagulls descend on the dinner. As they smash glass, tear at hands, and blow up a fucking car, you feel the characters' panic too. The schoolyard attack is still really upsetting, kids crying out and fleeing as they're pecked bloody and dropped to the ground. (Considering “The Birds” is a movie about our everyday sense of safety being violated, this scene can't help but now bring school shootings to mind too.) Hitchcock, of course, knew how to put an exclamation point on a scene too. A crash zoom on pecked-out eyes certainly lets us know how badly a little bird can fuck up the human body.

No explanation is ever given for why the birds revolt and none is necessary. In Hitchcock's film, the natural order of the world has clearly been disrupted. This is suggested by the characters' relationship. The cast of “The Birds” is deeply neurotic. Mitch's mother is clingy, intentionally alienating her son's girlfriends so he won't leave her alone. His little sister makes unusually sardonic comments about the world. His ex-lover, the girl's teacher, still hangs around, unable to move on from the failed relationship. In this light, the weirdly hostile courtship between Melanie and Mitch becomes significant. Throughout the film, we see the lovebirds in their cage. This is a peaceful coexistence, unlike the disturbed relationships between the humans. The humans are out-of-sync with each other and so is humanity with the world, which is why the birds turn on us.  

Upon release, “The Birds” received mixed reviews. Some contemporary critics found the film too gruesome or its characters too vague. Time would quickly vindicate “The Birds.” Less than a decade later, an entire strain of killer animal movies would follow in its path. There's been many direct attempts to emulate Hitchcock's masterpiece as well, ranging from an instantly forgotten sequel to whatever the hell “Birdemic” was suppose to be. Yet the original stands above all the others, still terrifying and somehow more relevant than ever. I can't believe it took me so long to realize that. [9/10]

The Amityville Curse (1990)

Shortly after it first aired on TV, “Amityville 4: The Evil Escapes” was distributed on VHS by Vidmark. The sequel must have been successful for the company as, a year later, they released another movie inspired by “The Amityville Horror.” Very loosely inspired, it turns out. “The Amityville Curse” is still considered part of the official series, based on another novel with direct links to the original story. Despite that, the film's only connection to the previous four “Amityville Horror” movies is its Long Island setting. The haunted house within the film is not 112 Ocean Avenue but some other cursed location. The filmmakers didn't even attempt to copy the distinctive eye-like windows of the original house. I guess producers have always been willing to try and capitalize on a notorious story, no matter how vaguely.

In a peaceful Long Island community, a priest is murdered inside his own confessional booth. Twelve years pass, the rectory being transformed into a residential home. Psychologist Marvin and his wife, Debbie, buy the home. Due to its supposed haunted history, Marvin buys the house cheaply, intending to renovate it and re-sell it at a profit. Friends Frank, Abigail, and Bill are recruited to help. Strange things begin to happen soon afterwards. Debbie is haunted by nightmares, which seem to be psychic predictions. Suicides occur near-by. Dogs and spiders attack. Frank begins to act oddly. It's soon apparent that the house genuinely is cursed. 

Traditionally, the haunted house movie features lots of spooky atmosphere. A house inhabited by ghosts and spirits should, after all, be a creepy place to stay. It says a lot about the quality of the first four “Amityville Horror” films that they seriously lacked in atmospheric chills. “The Amityville Curse,” if nothing else, attempts to correct this. Director Tom Berry, who has largely worked as a producer of Lifetime and Syfy Channel movies, fills the location with lots of shadows. The house has a dust-filled basement, meandering corridors, and cobweb strewn corners. For the first time, an “Amityville” movie attempts to make its house feel old, isolated, and foreboding.

That “The Amityville Curse” is so disconnected from the previous entries in the series may, in fact, be in its favors. None of the bullshit trademarks of the previous films are present. There's no overzealous flies, whispering voices, or black ooze in the plumbing. About the only thing “Curse” has in common with the earlier films is the source of evil being located in the basement. Instead of every minor inconvenience being blamed on the house, or the film going way over-the-top to make itself scary, the scares are focused. Frank is being corrupted by the spirit inside the basement and Debbie, sensitive to psychic matters, has weird dreams. It's nice to see an “Amityville” movie reel it the fuck in.

In fact, “Curse” even manages to get mildly tense in its final act. The spookiness of the house long established, we center in on the possessed Frank stalking Debbie, who is all alone, through the home. Maybe this climax worked for me because I find the characters more reasonable this time around. Marvin is skeptical of the home's cursed reputation, which is why he doesn't believe anything weird is happening at first. Abigail, meanwhile, quickly realizes this house is obviously cursed. Instead of lingering around like every other dumb-ass “Amityville” leading lady, she gets the hell out! What a thought! Long before he goes full evil, Frank – played by reliably sleazy character actor Kim Coates – is clearly not well. That makes his eventually turn to the dark side easier to swallow.

“The Amityville Curse” is a bit rare, unavailable on DVD for a long time and even being hard to find on VHS. I'm still not sure if there's an official DVD release, as the film was left out of Vinegar Syndrome's recent Blu-Ray box set. If the film's Letterboxd page is anything to go by, “The Amityville Curse” is not well liked. Much of the dislike directed at the movie seems to circle around it being so unrelated to the other "Amityville" movies. Granted, this probably isn't an especially good film. It's slow and is blatantly derivative of much better movies, like “The Shining.” However, I have a bit of a soft spot for early 1990s direct-to-video horror schlock like this. Just the look and sound of these kind of movies makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Maybe it's because I really didn't care for the first four installments but “Curse” earns points for me precisely because it's so different. [6/10]

Creepshow: Night of the Paw / Times is Tough in Musky Holler

The fifth installment of Shudder's “Creepshow” is another extremely strong episode. “Night of the Paw” depicts a mysterious, injured woman seeking shelter in a funeral home. The man who works there, Avery Whitlock, patches her up but that only raises her suspicions. Soon, he is telling her his story of a cursed monkey's paw that granted wishes in the worst way and how it brought misery into his life. In “Times is Tough in Musky Holler,” a town recently beset by zombies has been ruled over by a cruel mayor and his fascist team. The residents decide to turn the tables on their tormentors in a suitably ironic way.

John Harrison directs both segments of episode five and manages to bring a distinct visual style to both. “Night of the Paw” retains the artificial, comic book style seen in the original film and several of the previous episodes. This creates some truly beautiful images. Such as the on-the-run woman having her eyes framed by light in a dark room. Or Avery digging up his wife's corpse, set against a bright blue nighttime background. The script manages to find a new twist on W. W. Jacobs' frequently referenced original story while still retaining the classical elements we associate with the tale. Bruce Davidson is fantastic as Avery, an erudite man who is wracked with guilt over his actions and certain of what punishment he deserves. Only some CGI fire and a somewhat incoherent conclusion drag the episode down.

While maintaining the comic book panel gimmick, Harrison creates a far grimmier visual tone for “Times is Tough in Musky Holler.” Which is fitting, since this segment is based on a classic short story by splatterpunk scribe John Skipp. The episode slowly reveals what is going on, gradually letting the audience into the mayor's depravity. The audience is left to wonder who the victims and the victimizers are at first, lending the story some suspense. The final reveal is clever and fittingly gruesome, the ironic punishment being pointedly prolonged. Telling a zombie apocalypse story from the inside out, focusing on the consequences people face for what they did during the tragedy, puts a fresh spin on a familiar idea. And a story about horrible people assuming power during a crisis, only so they can abuse their new positions, can't help but feel relevant in 2020. [Night of the Paw: 8/10] [Times is Tough in Musky Holler: 8/10]

Forever Knight: Blackwing

Because it was a product of the mid-nineties, “Forever Knight” just had to do an episode about Native American mysticism. The Mississauga Indian tribe is protesting the building of a shopping mall on land that belongs to them. Tribe elder Gary Blackwing is leading this movement and, naturally, ends up murdered. As Nick and Tracy investigates, he meets Marian, Blackwing's granddaughter. Marian inherited her grandfather's ability to “spirit walk,” encountering past and future events in a dream-like spirit world. She soon draws Nick into this spiritual realm, seemingly easing his vampiric condition. Soon, as the murders continue, he's fearing his blood lust has been passed onto Marian. 

I'll give “Forever Knight” this much. It makes efforts to make its hokey take on Indian magic less dehumanizing than some shows. Marian thinks of her spiritual abilities as much as a curse as a gift. The plot acknowledges how native populations were screwed over by white settlers. One of the episode's best characters is Jess Nevins, a Native friend of Blackwing, who gets quite a bit of funny dialogue. He even saves the day at the end! The quasi-romance between Nick and Marian goes nowhere. The mystery is not especially compelling. Vachon and Tracy are inserted into the story for largely no reason. Still, “Blackwing” has its moments. LeCroix's radio monologue about the legend of the raven is cool. The scenes devoted to Nick feeling conflicted over what has happened are compelling. It's an episode mildly better than season three's first three installments. [6/10]