Halloween 2022: September 28th

The Sacrament  (2013)

The mumblecore style and the found footage phenomenon both started to peak around the same time, making cross pollination inevitable. Both formats, after all, prioritized improvisation and handheld camerawork to capture a sense of realism. The “V/H/S” series did a lot to further the connection, as well as establishing Adam Wingard and Ti West as the biggest names in this “mumblegore” crossover. West's first feature after participating in “V/H/S” was “The Sacrament,” which seemed to be another found footage project at first. The film, which featured a prominent producer credit from Eli Roth, is better described as a mockumentary, keeping some of the trademarks of the found footage style while discarding others. While “The Sacrament” was positioned as the movie that would take West out of the indie scene and into the mainstream, it instead proved harder to sell than that because of its disturbing subject matter. Ya see, “The Sacrament” is heavily inspired by the Jonestown Massacre. 

Sam, a reporter from Vice, is interviewing a New York fashion photographer named Patrick when he lets it slip that his sister is living in a cult. Eden Parish is a supposedly utopian community out in the backwoods of Mississippi, run by an enigmatic religious leader known only as Father. Sam and his cameraman, Jake, decide to investigate. Immediately, they sense something is wrong, as guards with guns greet them at the gates of the commune. Patrick's sister and everyone else insists everything is great at Eden Parish but Father is defensive when questioned. Soon, Sam and Jake learn why: Horrible abuse is happening there. When a whole crowd of people want to leave the next morning with the reporters, threatening to expose what is going on, Father gives a ghastly order to everyone in the entire cult.

The thought process behind “The Sacrament” seems to be to drop a camera into Jonestown in the hours leading up to and during the horrible day. The film is an often harrowing recreation of that real life tragedy. We see the panic and fear in the citizens of the parish, and the enforcers of the cult leader, as things grow graver. Once the mass suicide order is given, “The Sacrament” becomes a highly uncomfortable watch. Adults and children drink Flavor Aid laced with cyanide. Mothers reluctantly allow their infant children to be injected with the poison. The camera watches unflinchingly as people spasm and die, foam bubbling from their mouths. Those that attempt to flee are gunned down in cold blood. It's stark and horrifying, over a hundred innocent people having their lives ended to satisfy the warped justice of a man gone mad with power. (“The Sacrament” specifies that 179 die in its fictionalized massacre, a fraction of the 918 people who actually died at Jonestown.)

As disturbing as “The Sacrament” is, one really has to question the intentions behind making the movie. The film is not a proper fictionalization of the real events. Jim Jones, his cult, nor any of the real people involved are ever named or mentioned. Why make a movie so clearly about Jonestown, that sets out to accurately recreate the deaths of countless people, without mentioning the true events? What makes this approach even more discomforting is that “The Sacrament” often operates like a standard horror film at times. A woman setting herself on fire, or the cameraman hiding from a shooter, are designed like standard horror movie shocks. This unpleasant disconnect is most obvious in a scene where a mother kills her own daughter, to spare her being murdered by the faithful cult members. Trying to mine scares from such awful real events is tasteless and disrespectful. Pretending that the movie isn't based on actual people who lived, died, and were murdered doesn't really make it any less so.

The movie makes me wonder why it exists. Yet, if nothing else, “The Sacrament” does a good job of showing how cults work. Patrick's sister is a recovering drug addict. Many other residents of the community are as well. Those that aren't former addicts are disenfranchised from society for other reasons, whether they be elderly or racially persecuted. The message of unity and hope that “Father” preaches gives them the structure and support they need to improve their lives... At the cost of making them dependent on someone else, who insists on a strict system that revolves around praising him and demonizing the outside world. When that power – which also allows the cult leader to indulge the earthly pleasures he decries – is threatened, that's when Father gives the kill order. It must also be said that Gene Jones gives a compelling performance as Jones stand-in, a man who is clearly charismatic but still an intimidating presence. 

“The Sacrament” succeeds at being disturbing but at what cost? I have no problem with a movie basing itself on tragic true events. I'm not even necessarily offended by a genre picture exploiting real life horror for shock value or publicity. Yet “The Sacrament” does not successfully tow this line. Its tone is too grim for cheap thrills but it goes for them anyway. The result can only make me feel uncomfortable, no matter how good the intentions behind it might've been. I'm also bugged that West seems noncommittal to the documentary premise, the score and multiple camera angles disrupting the realism he's otherwise striving for. I think the director should've just made a straight ahead drama about Jonestown, instead of attempting to squeeze this story of historical terror into a conventional genre mold. You can't deny that "The Sacrament" unnerves the audience but it ultimately doesn't sit right with me at all. [6/10]

The Shock (1923)

In cinematic history, Lon Chaney will always be recognized as the first American horror star... Yet that statement always comes with a big asterisk. While “Phantom of the Opera” and “London After Midnight” unquestionably belong to the macabre, horror as we know it today hadn't really solidified into its recognized form by the 1920s. Chaney was a major star during the silent era, which meant the majority of the films he headlined belonged to the most popular genre of the day: The melodrama. The effect this has is, when navigating through Chaney's filmography for stuff to include in these Halloween marathons, I often end up delving into films that barely classify as horror. All of this is a disclaimer for me reviewing “The Shock,” a 1923 silent feature that is 99% melodrama and 1% horror.

Chaney stars as Wilse Dilling, a crippled enforcer working for Chinatown-based mob boss, Ann Cardington. Cardington is the former lover of banker Hadley, who operates out of the small suburban town of Fallbrook. Cardington has engineered an elaborate revenge scheme against Hadley, which involves sending Wilse to spy on his daughter, Gertrude. Wilse quickly falls for Gertrude and finds his hardened heart softening after living in the peaceful town. Having experienced a change of heart, Wilse decides to protect Gertrude's father. Ann's desire for revenge remains and it all comes to a head during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. 

As the child of deaf parents, Lon Chaney must've related to people with disabilities. He played deformed or disadvantaged so often throughout his career. “The Shock” is yet another example, as Chaney spends the entire movie hobbling around on crutches or using a wheelchair. Since the 1920s were a less enlightened time, twisted bodies usually represented twisted minds. As far as physical frailties go, Wilse's limping gait ranks far below the usual Chaney contortions. This might be why the character is one of the few virtuous cripples the actor played. By the end of the film, Wilse's criminal instincts have totally fallen away and his disability is miraculously healed. (This is directly equated with him embracing the good Christian religion Gertrude encourages.) If this wasn't politically incorrect enough, the film also depicts Chinatown as nothing but a den of sin and crime.

Outdated cultural ideas come with the territory, when you're watching a movie that's nearly a century old. Also to be expected is a degree of contrived histrionics. Yes, there's a love triangle or two. Gertrude is already engaged to another man when Wilse develops feelings for her. The entanglements involving Queen Ann's vengeful plan, not to mention the subplot about banking, only grow more convoluted as the movie goes on. “The Shock's” melodramatic nature peaks during its climax. Wilse prayers to God to intervene, which is when the earthquake occurs and defeats the villains. Yes, a major disaster is depicted as being a divine act, that is also used to represents the formerly criminal protagonist completely turning over a new leaf. But at least the earthquake effects are neat to look at.

Not matter how overheated “The Shock” gets, Lon Chaney is always there to hold it together. As always, nobody excelled at playing these scheming but pathetic wretches like him. The scene where Gertrude introduces Wilse to her fiancée, Chaney manages to express the man's heart breaking and him coming to accept the situation with just a subtle shift of his face. The moment immediately following, where he grabs her boyfriend's arm and tells him that he better not hurt Gertrude, is oddly touching but also Chaney's most malevolent moment in “The Shock.” Lon is so good that you even forgive the film for completely skipping over Wilse going from a heartless baddie to a nice guy. This occurs during a title card, the mere act of moving out of the city and into the suburbs apparently being enough to change his entire disposition. 

As for “The Shock's” minimal horror content, it's isolated entirely to Chaney's mild deformity and some haunted house-style secret passageways in Queen Ann's lair. Otherwise, this one resides solely within the realm of the melodrama. It's not a particularly good one either. However, Chaney's performance, ever powerful, and the sweet romance he shares with his costar does make the movie worth watching. By the way, this was a Universal picture – one of their Universal Jewels presentations – but to consider this part of the legacy of Universal monster movies seems like a stretch. Maybe I'll get luckier next year when selecting a spooky Lon Chaney flick to watch. [6/10]

Alfred Hitchcock Presents: The Case of Mr. Pelham

When looking up episodes of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents,” the ones directed by Hitch himself naturally draw the most attention. Among the most critically acclaimed of this lot is “The Case of Mr. Pelham,” from the series' very first season. The titular character is Albert Pelham, a successful businessman. He runs into a psychologist friend at a bar and relates to him a creeping paranoia he's having. Over the last few weeks, it's become apparent a doppelganger of Mr. Pelham exists. He slowly seems to be infiltrating into Albert's life. He grows increasingly paranoid and unsound, trying to dissuade this double at every turn and always finding himself outmatched. It's only a matter of time before the man and his copy come face-to-face.

“The Case of Mr. Pelham” is one of the few “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” episodes that floats into the realm of supernatural horror. The story certainly teases with the idea that Mr. Pelham is having a psychological break of some sort, imagining everything or developing a split personality. Yet, as the episode goes on, it becomes clear that there really is a doppelganger. His butler and co-workers have seen him, believing the copy to be the genuine article. When facing down the double, Albert asks him what power he serves, seemingly confirming the otherworldly connotations. The episode is perfectly paced, slowly escalating the invasion of Pelham's personal life by this duplicate, until he's infiltrating his most intimate inner circle. The copy is undefeated at every angle, Mr. Pelham's attempts to distinguish himself only making him look like the fake.

What makes this idea so scary isn't that the doppelganger simply exists. It's that he's better at Pelham's own life than he is. The perfect copy is better at his job, more popular with his friends, and eventually becomes more successful. That's an existentially terrifying premise. That someone else could easily slip into your own life, take it over, and overcome all of your weaknesses feels utterly nightmarish. Tom Ewell's increasingly panicked performance conveys that feeling excellently. “The Case of Mr. Pelham's” ends on a distressingly ironic moment, that seals the ambiance of a bad dream. Hitchcock's typically sardonic host segments bemoan the lack of murder in this episode but that doesn't stop it from being a nicely chilling experience. [8/10]

The Munsters: Monster Masquerade / My Fair Munster

Popular opinion seems compelled to forever compare “The Addams Family” and “The Munsters.” Both aired at the same time. Both only ran for two seasons but became so popular in syndication, that numerous spin-offs and revivals followed in the decades since. While the general consensus is “The Addams Family” is the funnier, sharper show, I've always preferred “The Munsters.” Maybe it's just because I'm partial to the Universal Monsters, the inspiration for Herman and his brood. Maybe I just prefer dumb-ass gags over more biting observations about polite society. Maybe it was the kick-ass surf rock theme song. I'll probably have to review both shows in their entirety some day but “The Munsters” was always destined to be first. 

“Monster Masquerade” establishes many of the show's running gags. Marilyn, the normal looking niece of the family, has caught the eye of a guy named Tom. In hopes of winning her favor, he invites her entire family to a masquerade party run by his rich parents. Herman, Lily, and Grandpa end up getting into shenanigans at the party. Lily's love life helps drive the second episode's plot too. In “My Fair Munster,” Grandpa invents an attraction potion to help Marilyn's dating prospects but accidentally doses the family breakfast with it instead. This ends up making Herman and Lily irresistible, attracting the attention of the mailman and the stuck-up lady next door. 

“The Munsters” can never be called sophisticated humor because the entire series revolves around one joke: This family of monsters think they are perfectly normal, wholesome folks, while everyone reacts to their macabre habits with shock and fright. “Monster Masquerade” certainly has its share of gags like that. Such as the B-plot, in which the elderly neighbor lady babysits Eddie and is confused by the haunted mansion abode and the boy's howling. The A-plot features Herman accidentally insulting the boy's father by complementing his costume – a Frankenstein get-up – and later shattering a mirror with his true face. “My Fair Munster” double-down on this, with jokes about Eddie's werewolf doll, the boy hanging out in the fireplace, Grandpa playing checkers with a ghost, or Lily making oatmeal in a witch's cauldron. 

I'm a sucker for hoary old gags like these. Yet what makes this show really delightful is the cast. Fred Gwynne's Herman is a lovable goof, who responds with genuine baffled confusion to the normal people's reactions. Al Lewis' Grandpa is gloriously silly, hamming it up when working on potions in “Monster Masquerade” or performing spells in “My Fair Munster.” It's already clear that these performer had perfect comedic timing. Gwynne's reaction to a drink being poured into his suit of armor costume in the first episode, or how he tiptoes through the hallway in the second, get laughs. Yvonne De Carlo's straight-woman status, and way with a simple line like discouraging Grandpa's “smoking,” can also not be undervalued to the series' success. I'm also obviously partial to the set design, as 1313 Mockingbird Lane is clearly the kind of home I wouldn't mind living in. Or at least hanging out in for a while.

Of these first two episodes, “Munster Masquerade” is definitely the funnier. The costume party premise allows the cast to riff on the material more, even if it lead to the inevitable bits about people getting scared. “My Fair Munster” devotes much more time to the bewitched normies – which notably includes John Fiedler, the voice of Piglet himself, as the mailman – chasing the Munsters. The extended chase scene, which involves a lot of sped-up footage and jokes about the spooky house's secret passageways, gets a little too wacky. Yet there are even laughs here, especially in how Fiedler exits the home or the goofy one-liner from Herman that wraps up the show. I have no idea if this strain of silliness will ware out its welcome by the time I've finished mainlining the first season but I'm enjoying it so far. [Munster Masquerade: 7/10 / My Fair Munster: 6/10]