Halloween 2024: October 4th

Mute Witness (1995)

In the waning days of my youth, the local mom-n-pop rental place closed its gates forever. I mourn for you still, Top 20 Video. The location then became the site of a massive liquidation sale for what must've been every indie video store in the area. I laid eyes on many weird, rare tapes during that time, many of which I didn't think to buy because I never imagined anyone would miss them.  I seem to recall seeing a lot of copies of "Mute Witness" on those shelves, suggesting to me that it wasn't much in demand at the time. I had never heard of the film before but its distinctive box art stuck in my brain. Years later, following the path of so many other VHS era obscurities before it, this title started to be praised as a hidden gem of the nineties. Naturally, it got the spiffy boutique label 4K remaster recently. A German co-production from a British director, "Mute Witness" was filmed in Moscow with a mostly Russian cast. I think that's a sufficiently Russian percentage for me to count this as my Horror World Tour entry for the Land of the Czars. 

An inexperienced nepo-baby director is filming a horror movie on a Moscow soundstage. His wife's sister, Billy, is working as the production's make-up artist. Billy, who is mute, accidentally gets locked in the studio overnight. That's when she spies two burly crew members filming what appears to be a home-made porno... Which then turns into a snuff film, when they slash the girl's throat. Horrified, Billy flees and hides from the men, barely escaping. She reports what she saw to the police but has all her evidence dismantled. However, Billy truly did see a real murder. The silent woman has stumbled into an international conspiracy of snuff and sex trafficking, run by sadistic Russian mobsters. As the killers pursue her still, she finds herself unable to trust anyone. 

Writer/director Anthony Waller first conceived of "Mute Witness" back in the eighties, creating a story around a single scene he serendipitously shot of Alec Guinness. The years of delays clearly gave Waller time to hone his craft. "Mute Witness" has a brilliant first act that is as tight as any complete features film I've seen. Once Billy sees the murder in the almost empty studio, the film becomes a series of scenes of her barely avoiding detection from the intimidating men. These sequences are frequently brilliantly shot from intriguing perspectives, that make a hallway loom out into the distance before or behind our imperiled heroine. Most impressive is a moment that extends the space before a door, perfectly capturing the feeling Billy is having of escape seeming just out-of-reach. She physically can't scream, suffering in silent terror as the murderers lurk above or behind her various hiding spots. I was impressed with how immediately the expressive cinematography, brilliant sound design, emotional score, and stylishly assembled sets drew me in. If "Mute Witness" had ended there, it would go down in genre history as one of the scariest horror shorts of all time. 

 

The film doesn't end there, of course. Billy escapes the studio, rescued by her director and sister, who call in the Moscow police. From that point on, "Mute Witness" strays away from horror into a more general crime thriller mode. More focus is put on the webs of deception the make-up artist finds herself caught in, criminal forces closing in on her. Waller still does everything he can to keep the tension up. He often succeeds. A sequence where Billy attempts to contact authorities through a text-to-voice device, while a burly Russian psycho meticulously drills through the screws in her lock, is fabulously suspenseful. The last third of the movie is a series of chase scenes, stand-offs, and double crosses that successfully keep the audience guessing. Hitchcock's espionage thrillers are clearly the inspiration here, Waller including more and more wry humor and a smattering of puckish sensuality as the film progresses. The twists are packed in until quite literally the final minute, in another attempt to never let the audience's heartbeat recover. "Mute Witness" never recaptures the pins-and-needles tension of its first half-hour but it's all extremely well done and breathlessly entertaining.

The moment when "Mute Witness" nearly goes off the rails is when the creepy dudes in the studio dismantle everything upsetting Billy saw in front of the police. It's a somewhat tedious scene, because the viewer obviously knows what she saw is real. There wouldn't be a movie if it wasn't. However, one minor plot point keeps this extended gaslighting scene from being dull. The only person who always believes Billy, who never doubts her, is her sister. The men in "Mute Witness" are all untrustworthy figures. The director is incompetent, the cops are crooked, the stagehands are psychos. "Mute Witness" steps back from making all its male figures evil or idiots. However, the story's one virtuous man is still suspicious, as he has to earn Billy's trust. Meanwhile, we never doubt the women being honest with each other. "Mute Witness" draws extensive suspense from its protagonist being a vulnerable woman who can't voice her own fears. It takes this further in one scene, sticking her in a bath when the killers kick in her door. The film operates as such a thrilling piece of fantastically engineered pulp that its blatantly obvious themes almost seem subtle. The idea remains persistent though: Any woman would be wise not to trust every strange guy she see. Moreover, she'll probably feel a lot safer around other women too. 

The person killed in the snuff film Billy sees is another woman not only because a bound, screaming, naked female is an encouraged sight in a low budget genre film. "Mute Witness" begins with a fake horror movie within the movie, in which a woman is stalked by a brutish man. As the camera pulls back to reveal the film crew, the idea that violence is less real if recorded by a camera is already introduced. The killers try to dissuade the cops by trotting out special effects. This theme comes back at the end, when an inability to distinguish fake violence from real violence proves to be common across all the movie's characters. We, the viewer, are also watching what we know is a fictional narrative. To fill such a story with interlocking layers of realities, where the characters are unaware of what death is real and what is fabricated, puts us in the same place as the protagonist. We doubt what is plainly in front of our eyes. Released a year before "Scream" would thoroughly dissect the slasher's corpse, "Mute Witness" can't help but feel like a post-mortem on the body count flick. The script challenges the supposed sexism of the horror genre, while playing with audience expectations for gory mayhem and interrogating our own disregard for on-screen violence. "If it was real, how would we react?" the central set-up asks. 

Whether "Mute Witness" grabs all the thematic balls it throws up in the air is debatable. Some of the script's headier ideas are lost in pursuit of thrilling suspense scenes. Still, this is a movie that is so effective at what it sets out to do that you can't call it anything but a raging success. "Mute Witness" sets out to move you to the edge of your seat and does exactly that. Marina Zudina makes Billy the kind of underdog any horror fan can root for, helping further sell the movie's suspense. It should've been the promising start of a fine career for Anthony Waller. Instead, he made "An American Werewolf in Paris" next and that was the end of that. Still, "Mute Witness" stands as a stylish, funny, clever, and thrilling fusion of prolonged tensions and post-Soviet paranoia. Moreover, the ideas concerning women, cinematic violence, and life in Moscow in the middle nineties make it a surprisingly rich experience. I suppose this is a hidden gem that actually earns that reputation. [8/10]

The Traveller (1979)

El Caminante

It is worth noting that Paul Naschy took on the role of El Hombre Lobo out of necessity, as another actor couldn't be found to fill the role. This is how the legend goes, anyway. That is how he got started on the path of becoming Spain's Lon Chaney Jr., eventually playing Dracula, Dr. Jekyll, a zombie overlord, a mummy and a hunchback too. Owing to their low budgets and exploitation movie content, Naschy's films were always likelier to play in a grindhouse than an arthouse. However, one wonders if more widespread respectability was something Naschy strived for. As the seventies went on, either out of a desire to leave the classic monster roles behind or chasing market trends, Naschy would star in a giallo, an "Exorcist" imitator, and a witch-hunting movie. Emerging from the tail-end of this period is one of the star's most interesting film, a historical drama/horror/social satire known in its native language as "El Caminante." Known variously as "The Traveller" or "The Devil Incarnate," the film represents Naschy's best attempt to fuse his classic horror sensibilities and any higher mind aspirations, with the required amounts of flesh and blood.

In medieval Spain, a man calling himself Leonardo walks the countryside. He comes across a man claiming to be a disgraced knight. After an argument, he kills him before stealing his clothes and gold. Shortly afterwards, he meets a blind man tormenting his servant, a boy named Tomas. Leonardo robs the man and takes the boy under his wing. The two travel the countryside, Leonardo teaching Tomas all of his wicked ways. He seduces wives, nuns, and peasant women. He robs from the rich and the poor alike. He murders whenever he sees fit. The more time Tomas spends with Leonardo, the clearer it becomes that the man may be the devil himself. And the devil doesn't keep friends for long before betraying them...

By this point in his career, Naschy was a full-blown auteur. If he starred in a movie, that usually meant he directed it too. (Often credited under his birth name, Jacinto Molina.) Naschy co-wrote “The Traveller” too, so we can assume he is the primary author of the film. Which reflects on its content in some funny ways. “El Caminante” sees the star playing a totally amoral, utterly unrepentant, rampaging id. Most of the film is devoted to him tricking people or beating them up, the audience often privy to Leonardo's mean-spirited thoughts as he plans to perform these heinous acts. Whenever he sees a beautiful woman, he immediately goes about seducing her, often giving her pleasure she's never felt before. The script specifies that the character has a big cock too, in case you were curious. A key moment has Leonardo pretending to be a mad man, as he urinates in front of a noblewoman and extensively gropes her breasts. This is a character that lives solely for hedonistic pleasure and never once considers the consequences of who he is harming. 

In less capable hands, this premise could have come off as a ridiculous ego trip. It's definitely still is that, a little bit. However, as much as “The Traveller” revels in Leonardo's bad behavior, it never has any illusions about him being a hero. When he humiliates a stuttering lord, it's a subversive violation of social hierarchies. Leonardo is no Robin Hood figure though. After giving the crippled wife of a farmer her first orgasm, he robs her, degrades her, and carves an inverted cross into her ass cheek. (An image so salacious, it wound up on most of the posters.) This is not a man to admire, not as an antihero or anything else. Considering Leonardo's heavily implied diabolic nature, this turns “The Traveler” into a twisted inversion of a traditional morality tale. Instead of being about a good samaritan, who wanders into town, sees a problem, and works to make it better, this guy shows up and does the most selfish, hurtful things he can. There is some juvenile glee in seeing the boundaries of medieval politeness crossed. This is evident in the scene where Leonardo and Tomas chase naked girls around in sped-up motion, the most obvious  indicator that Naschy was influenced by “A Clockwork Orange.” Ultimately, the script leaves no doubt that Leonardo is a monster. 

In fact, he might be the devil himself. “The Traveller” hints throughout that its villain protagonist is a Hellish emissary, sent to corrupt and destroy any soul he finds. The path he sets Tomas on, taking him from humble servant boy to a murderous criminal, suggests as much. Multiple times, Leonardo displays supernatural abilities of some sort. His eyes glow as he seduces the farmer's wife. The room is cast in an ominous red light as he seemingly heals a sick girl. While stirring up sin in a convent, he changes a portrait of a nun defying the devil into a pornographic tableau with only a look. This element of dark magical realism – in which Naschy plays such a bastard, he can change the properties of things around him – pushes the film fully into the realm of folk horror. By the last third, when Leonardo finally gets what is coming to him, it feels like the inevitable conclusion to a rambling legend. Even the devil can get away with it only for so long. 

While Naschy's films were often hampered by low budgets, rushed productions, and limited resources, more care was clearly taken with “The Traveller.” There is some crude acting or cheesy visual effects here and there. However, the movie also contains some striking imagery. The love scene with the crippled woman is elegantly shot. The most memorable visual in the film has Naschy strung up on a cross across from a large stone crucifix, throwing petty comments at the statue of Christ. Humorous in its gleeful amorality, but ultimately grim in its message, “The Traveller” is surely among the star/director's most ambitious film from a thematic perspective. Rather than remixing classic monster movie tropes, Naschy was trying to scratch at something about human – and demonic – nature here. His means fell short of his goals but the result is still a highly entertaining and intriguing motion picture. [8/10]

Unsolved Mysteries: Season 1, Episode 3

When first conceived, "Unsolved Mysteries" was television as an act of public service. The program was meant to draw national attention to true disappearances and unsolved homicides, in hopes of finding answers. However, the show quickly incorporated alleged paranormal "mysteries" into its format. This led to NBC's news department distancing themselves from the series and introducing a disclaimer that clarified it was "not a news program." By the third episode of its first regular season – aired two nights before Halloween, not coincidentally – "Unsolved Mysteries" was already devoting an entire hour to ghostly reports. Episodes like this, of course, form the backbone of the show's long-lived cult following. Fans often point to this third episode as featuring maybe the creepiest moments in the series' history.

Host Robert Stack, his voice always grave but a wry smirk often on his face, introduces the episode from the deck of the Queen Mary. The docked cruise ship's long history of supposed hauntings makes up the first segment. Later scenes cover otherworldly sightings and poltergeist activity in a New England hotel and a suburban home in Georgia. The episode's most notorious segment concerns the haunting of the Wisconsin Tallman family, who were terrorized by disturbing visions after purchasing an old bunk bed. 

Much like "In Search Of...," "Unsolved Mysteries'" horror content usually stemmed from its reenactments. This ghost episode is a good one, in that regard. Low-budget and hokey as they might be, sequences devoted to a man appearing and disappearing behind a woman on an escalator or ghostly footprints splashing by a pool do provide a mildly spooky feeling. When combined with the foreboding synth theme and Stack's gravelly narration, it's easy to imagine this creeping out impressible young viewers when watched all alone at night, in a dark room lit only by the glow of the TV. Though the scenes of alleged psychics and Dutch paranormal researchers grasping at straws are hard to take too seriously. 

A phantasmic head appearing in a kitchen or a bell rung by unseen forces aren't the most distressing of supernatural encounters, as sincere as the witnesses seem. The Tallman house scenes, on the other hand, are more unsettling. First off, the real people only appear as silhouettes, having declined to participate in the reenactments. That adds an already eerie feeling to a haunting story that is genuinely creepy. Children having persistent nightmares, mist floating across the floor, and voices whispering threats would make any family uncomfortable. The standout scene involves the father returning home from work at night, faced with a vision of the house being on fire and his metal lunchbox getting hurled across the room. The analog effects and howling sound design definitely make this a creepy moment. I find most supposedly true ghost stories underwhelming but, when the mom finally has enough and drags the kids out of the house, I don't blame her. I wouldn't put up with that shit either. 

Having jumped around multiple networks and seen several revivals, "Unsolved Mysteries" has now been officially distributed across many platforms. However, these episodes have been re-edited, often to remove more blatantly supernatural reports. If you want to see this ghost special in its original, untinkered-with form, you're going to have to watch a blurry VHS rip. Honestly, such a nostalgic format might be the ideal way to watch "Unsolved Mysteries" anyway. It reminds us of a time when we were less cynical and more inclined to believe in claims of the unknown. [7/10]

The Addams Family: Lurch and His Harpsicord 

Considering the Addams Family's butler tickling the ivories is one of the iconic images of the series, it's not surprising a whole episode was built around "Lurch and His Harpsicord." During one of Gomez and Morticia's daily dance routines, a museum curator named Mr. Belmont passes 0001 Cemetery Lane. Attracted by the music, he steps inside and mentions that Lurch's harpsicord is a valuable antique. The Addams immediately offer to donate it to the museum, free of charge. Lurch, however, is deeply distraught by the idea of being separated from his favorite instrument. After trying to find him another hobby doesn't work, Gomez and Fester offer to build him a new one. Japes ensue, though maybe not as you'd expect. 

Unsurprising given Lurch's placement in the title, this is another episode that capitalizes on Ted Cassidy's deadpan reactions. When told that they've donated his beloved harpsicord, Lurch's response is to slowly rise from his chair and intone "I quit." (A line that gets an amusing rejoinder.) The manservant trying out drumming, knitting, or attempting to smile all make good use of Cassidy's lumbering, grumbling comedic abilities. When the movers arrive to take the replacement keyboard, it results in one of the few times we've actually heard Lurch raise his voice. He really likes that harpsicord, you guys. 

It's an amusing set-up for an episode. Once again, this show gets the best laughs by keeping things mostly inside the family. Fester's response when told everyone loves Lurch or his use of a toothless saw show that Jackie Coogan has grown on me. Carolyn Jones also gets a few chuckles, showing Morticia doesn't like whatever passes for profanity on a sixties sitcom. Byron Foulger, as Belmont, is a decent straight man. The only real issue with this episode is it's somewhat rushed ending. They've got to stop wrapping these up with phone calls. [7/10]