Given “Creepshow’s” surprise box office success, a sequel seemed a natural idea. This was, after all, the eighties, when all sorts of horror movies became franchises. There were many issues of the E.C. horror comics, so why not more “issues” of “Creepshow?” Stephen King would lend his name to the sequel, even though only one segment was inspired by his writing. George A. Romero would pen the script but handed directorial duties over to Michael Gornick, the first film’s cinematographer. Though not as successful as the original, “Creepshow 2” would still become a favorite among horror fans.
A smaller budget than the first means the Creep only tells three stories, this time. In “Old Chief Wood’n’head,” the owner of a hardware store faces hard times. After the leader of the local Indian tribe asks him to watch over some sacred jewels, a gang - led by a vain member of the same tribe - breaks in, steals the treasure, and kills the old man. The wooden cigar store Indian out front comes to life and seeks revenge. In “The Raft,” a group of teenagers seek out an isolated lake. They soon discover a flesh-eating oil slick monster resides there, forcing them to take shelter on a solitary raft. In “The Hitch-Hiker,” a woman drives home from an extramarital affair. Along the highway, she hits a black hitchhiker. Though she thinks she got away with the crime, the increasingly bloody corpse of the man refuses to leave her alone.
“The Raft” is generally regarded as the highlight of “Creepshow 2,” and even it features an unnecessary and sleazy sequence of groping. If you can look past that, “The Raft” is a highly entertaining horror story. The novelty of its monster goes a long way. A sentiment corrosive liquid, that can ooze through the gaps in a raft, forces the teen protagonists into an increasingly tight space, upping the tension. The gory special effects are equally inspired. The image of flesh-and-bone melting as it’s dragged into the water is nightmare inducing. The characters are horny dumb-asses but vague enough that you can project your own personality onto them, making you wonder how you’d fair in this precarious scenario. The ending is a cruel punchline, befitting the comic book atmosphere.
The framing device for “Creepshow 2” isn’t as likable as the first one’s either. The decision to portray them in sub-Don Bluth animation was questionable. Changing the Creep from a rotting corpse (and animatronic puppet) to a gonad-chinned old man wasn’t wise, even if Ron Silver’s vocal performance is entertainingly hammy. Still, despite its many flaws, “Creepshow 2” is a fun, spooky time at the movies. While the first is obviously scarier and stronger, I seem to recall meeting a lot of fans of “The Raft” and “Thanks for the ride, lady” in the early days of my horror fandom. [7/10]
I like to think of the sixties as the decade that dragged the horror genre out of the gothic age and into the modern era once and for all. That Freudian psycho killers and flesh-eating zombies dominated the decade. The truth is, gothic horror flourished in the early sixties. Hammer was still doing its thing, getting progressively bloodier. Roger Corman's Poe Cycle was influential and popular. In Italy, the success of “Black Sunday” spurned a whole movement of imitative films, a number of which also starred Barbara Steele. Such as “The Horrible Dr. Hichcock” from 1964. Like many of Steele's horror credits from this time, “The Horrible Dr. Hichcock” gained a cult following of its own.
In the 1880s, Dr. Hichcock is a respected surgeon. However, he has a dark secret: He's a necrophile. He sedates his wife, Margaret, into a corpse-like state with anesthetics. However, one night he gives her too much and she dies. Fifteen years later, Hichcock marries a new woman, Cynthia. As he takes her home, she is surrounded by reminders of Margaret. Soon, Cynthia begins to suspect that Margaret's ghost still haunts the mansion. Skulls appear in her bed, she sees and hears strange things, while her husband acts oddly. The truth, Cynthia will discover, is far more horrifying.
Obviously, “The Horrible Dr. Hichcock” is derivative. But who cares, because the movie is also gorgeous. While many films of this ilk are in moody black-and-white, this one was filmed in vibrant Technicolor. This doesn't keep “Hichcock” from dripping with absolutely delicious atmosphere. The mansion is inundated in cob-webs, dusty corridors, and ominous portraits. The moment devoted to Cynthia wandering through the fog is wonderfully foreboding. When she actually enters the secret underground tunnel, the camera remains tight on her face, lit only by the candles. It's amazing. Director Riccardo Freda collaborated previously collaborated with Mario Bava and “Hichcock” sometimes features Bava-esque streaks of color. Such as a nightmarish sequence of Cynthia awakening to her husband looming above her bed, his face distorted and awash in orange light.
Supposedly, “The Horrible Dr. Hichcock” was filmed in a very short amount of time. Steele made the movie on a ten day break from filming Fellini's “8½.” Amusingly, Robert Flemyng, the respected British thespian who plays the titular character, was horrified when he discovered the movie was about necrophilia. The movie played in U.S. on a double-bill with “The Awful Dr. Orloff,” proving 1964 was a big year for wicked physicians with alliterative adjectives. Visually gorgeous, well acted, and with an interesting kinky streak, “The Horrible Dr. Hichcock” is a perfectly satisfying slice of gothic horror. (And, yes, I kept wanting to spell the title with an extra T through this entire review.) [7/10]
For whatever reason, the horror anthologies are especially appealing to cable channels. I guess it’s cheaper to pay different actors for one episode, than the same actors for many episodes. And stories of the macabre will always attract a certain audience. In 1997, Fox would purchase the formally Pat Robinson-run Family Channel and rebrand it Fox Family. They would drop all of the previous programming and bring an entirely new slate of shows, mostly made of animation. The network would also start running some edgier fair, probably in an attempt to distance itself from the channel’s conservative Christian roots. Such as a horror anthology series called “Ghost Stories,” which ran for 44 episodes from 1997 to 1998. Rip Torn — who ironically guest-starred in an episode of similarly entitled seventies anthology show “Ghost Story” — would serve as host. “Ghost Stories” is pretty much entirely forgotten today, except by genre enthusiasts such as myself.
“Personal Demons” is about Billy Thorpe, who once had a highly successful career but suffered a nervous breakdown. He claims an evil spirit named JD controls him. His social worker checks on him but JD goads him into murdering her. A new social worker, Kelly, is assigned his case. As another workaholic prone to burnout, she senses a kindred spirit in Billy. JD doesn’t want Billy to go back to a mental hospital. Once Kelly reaches out to him, the supernatural entity tries to talk the troubled young man into killing again.
As lackluster as “Personal Demons” is, I still sort of liked it. There’s a gritty intimacy to the low budget production. The cast has to deal with some seriously tin-eared dialogue and shallow characterization. Tony Hale, as the trouble Billy, and Nena Haley, as the social worker, still bring something to the part. The chase scene climax is mildly tense because you find yourself invested in the characters, even if the production values are meager and the writing is clumsy. Rip Torn’s narration is melodramatic but delivered with ominous gusto. I have no idea if the rest of “Ghost Stories” is any good but I enjoyed “Personal Demons” despite its many flaws. [6/10]
Will I have to turn in my cinephile card if I admit I've never seen a Buster Keaton movie before? I enjoy silent film but silent-era comedies are still something of a blind spot for me. 1921's "The Haunted House" isn't Keaton's best regarded short but it's the one I'm starting with. Keaton is far from the first comedian to star in a haunted house-themed slapstick comedy, where the "ghosts" are merely crooks in disguise. Harold Lloyd did the same set-up the year before, it was already old by that point, and would continue to be a much abused trope well into the sound era. I've said before that every notable comedy star or team did the "old dark house" premise at some point in their career and that's increasingly looking to be true.
In "The Haunted House," Keaton plays an unnamed bank teller. He's unaware that his boss is plotting to rob the bank, storing the pilfered cash in a near-by home and replacing the stolen money in the vault with counterfeits. They have dissuaded anybody from investigating further by convincing the town the house is haunted, with various spooky booby traps and ghostly disguises. Following a misunderstanding involving some glue, Keaton flees the bank and ends up in the house. (Along with a group of actors from a disastrous local performance of "Faust.") There, he's faced with many unusual sights but eventually stumbles upon the criminal plot.
Once "The Haunted House" reaches the titular setting, it perks up considerably. You would think a staircase that descends into a ramp would be an easily exhausted gag. Keaton repeatedly finds new ways to make that particular prop funny, bouncing and sliding all over the stairs. An inspired sequence has him caught in a hallway, as various ghosts pass around him, prompting him to act as a crossing guard. The subplot about the "Faust" actors seems extraneous but pays off in a fantastic way. The haunted house setting allows for increasingly surreal gags, such as an inspired sequence where guys dressed as skeletons assembled a man like a mannequin. Keaton getting caught on a spinning platform escalates nicely. The short wraps up on a surprisingly spiritual note, which finally plays off the film's main running joke. "The Haunted House" is basically just Buster Keaton responding to a series of spooky set-ups but I was laughing consistently, so I think the film accomplished its goals.. [7/10]
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