How well known is Herschell Gordon Lewis outside the realm of sicko horror fans? Probably not all that much. The outrageous, if deeply unconvincing, gore of his movies and the strangely hypnotic quality of his slipshod productions makes his work, one imagines, utterly unappealing to anyone without a taste for Z-budget trash cinema or an interest in the history of American exploitation films. However, the fans of Lewis' bloody anti-masterpieces do include some high-profile filmmakers. John Waters including a clip from “Blood Feast” in “Serial Mom” probably introduced a lot of people to the Godfather of Gore. Similarly, an entire generation likely learned about H.G.L. when Diablo Cody had Juno watch “The Wizard of Gore” and declare it better than “Suspiria.” If any Lewis production has penetrated the wider cultural zeitgeist, the way the demented villains of his films have penetrated the bodies of so many victims, it's probably that one. I was underwhelmed by “Wizard of Gore” when I went through my own edgy teenage era and have never revisited it since, unlike the other Lewis movies I actively enjoy. More than enough time has passed for me to reconsider this one and determine if I think it's better than “Suspiria” too or if Juno MacGuff was a fucking idiot.
A stage magician named Montag the Magnificent begins to attract quite a following because of his grotesquely violent performances. Montag takes volunteers from the audience and brutally dismembers them right on stage, before everyone's eyes. Afterwards, the people the viewers saw horribly murdered appear totally fine. However, the ghastly wounds Montag's “illusions” wreak on his victims have a tendency to catch up with them a few hours later. Talk show host Sherry Carson becomes fascinated with Montag. She drags her boyfriend, journalist Jack, to see his act several times. The two begin to wonder if Montag is himself the murderer or if his violent act is merely inspiring a copycat psychopath. Sherry ultimately invites Montag onto her talk show, exposing a mass audience to the Wizard of Gore's phantasmic violence.
Usually, the crudeness of Lewis' gore effects are an indicator of the overall quality of his productions. The shotgun blunt editing, awkward framing, wooden acting, surreal dialogue, overwhelming musical scores, and incoherent scripts frequently combine to make accidentally charming oddball experiences. The director had been making movies for a decade by the time he got to “The Wizard of Gore,” at least his thirty-first directorial credit. Lewis' skills hadn't improved much in all that time but, hard as it is to believe, “Wizard of Gore” is probably one of his more polished productions. The framing is mostly on-center. The editing is not too inept. The musical score never drowns out the dialogue. The scenes of heroine Sherry and her boyfriend talking feature baffling dialogue that quickly becomes hilarious, to the point that it feels intentional. “The Wizard of Gore” certainly still contains that perversely charming anti-charisma that defines the filmmaker's best work. Compared to “Blood Feast” though, it functions more like a real movie! Lewis clearly learned something from “A Taste of Blood,” keeping the tedious scenes of people talking in boardrooms to a minimum.
At least, that was what Lewis always claimed anyway. If you watch enough of his films, you see that he was more creatively invested in his horror movies than his statements to the contrary imply. “The Wizard of Gore” contains what I think might be an attempt at themes. Montag's grandiose monologues, delivered with some actual campy flair by Ray Sager, go on and on about the nature of reality and fantasy, of performance and genuine action. This leads towards an incoherent, and quite funny, non-twist that sums up the movie's frequent dream-like atmosphere. However, Lewis was clearly going for something here. How Montag's supposedly fake acts of violence then result in real acts of violence seems like loose commentary on the nature of filmmaking itself. Moviemaking presents fake images to the viewer as if they were real, which Montag does to his own audience. That the villain is hypnotizing all his customers into seeing something other than objective reality is comparable to how the moving image tricks us into believing the unreal, if only for a second. Moreover, the magician's criticism of people being drawn to watch violent acts feels like biting-the-hand comments directed at the sickos who watch the director's films. Despite his clear lack of aesthetic talent, all of this suggests Lewis was extremely self-aware.
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Not a lot of horror movies come out of what we, as Americans, think of as "the Middle East." There is, without a doubt, a cinematic legacy in the Persian Gulf. Iran, in particular, has an active and healthy film industry. Iranian art dramas often play festivals and get picked up by global distributors. This still only represents a small fraction of the commercial filmmaking done in the country, most of which is rarely exported. Horror usually falls under that banner. That means the handful of Iranian genre films that do exist are difficult to find, much less with English subtitles. A few examples have made it over here though. Probably the most acclaimed Iranian horror film is Bahman Farmanara's 1979 folk tale, "Tall Shadows of the Wind." Made in the midst of the Islamic Revolution, the film was quickly banned by the government and remained obscure for years. Rediscovered by scholars more recently, the film has had many repertoire screenings. A DVD with subtitles must've been released at some point and that print – a bit dark and washed-out but watchable – circulates on the usual corners of the internet.
The residents of an isolated village in the Iranian countryside erect a scarecrow at the edge of town. They assign mystical beliefs to the sentry, praying to it to protect them. Abdullah, the town bus driver, has engine trouble one day. He wanders up to the scarecrow and, casually, draws a face similar to his own on it. Afterwards, people around town report having frightening encounters with the scarecrow. It is said to appear in the shadows, causing women to have miscarriages, driving the elderly to madness, and forcing some to perform bizarre rituals. The village is soon paralyzed with fear of the entity. Abdullah and his friend, school teacher Mohammad, remain skeptical. With everyone else too frightened to stand up against this supernatural overseer, Abdullah takes it upon himself to stop it.
The result is a horror film where the horror is vague, more implied than shown. While that might've been tedious in lesser hands, Farmanara establishes a dream-like ambiance early on. "Tall Shadows of the Wind" is an often quiet film, devoted to people having soft conversations in dimly lit interiors. This is contrasted with an expressive score, that switches between creeping melodies and more bombastic sounds. The film seesaws between these two modes, quiet and hysterical, in the way a nightmare can suddenly change for reasons that can't be understood. Cinematographer Ali Reza Zarrindast often places the actors as small figures in large landscapes, against the flatness of the desert or the wide blue sky. Other times, slow tracking shots are used. Combined, it makes the characters feel like insignificant pawns in a larger game that are always watched by an omniscient force. It goes a long way towards further establishing an ominous tone, where otherworldly powers loom over the common folk.
"Tall Shadows of the Wind" is also a prime example of folk horror. I discovered the film thanks to the "Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched" documentary, where a lot of people probably heard of it for the first time, I bet. Aside from clearly being rooted in specific cultural beliefs of the time and the place, the film is rich with the rural, isolated feeling that exemplifies the subgenre. A community imbuing a scarecrow with ominous powers through their belief in it is an act of mass folk magik. And scarecrows always seem like pagan idols to me, crucified figures looming over the harvest. I guess what I'm saying is... No, I did not understand everything about "Tall Shadows of the Wind." If I did have the cultural knowledge and experiences to grasp what the film suggests, the narrative approach would remain vague and detached. Simply taken as a work of poetic, foreboding mood, it is a compelling and chilling film. Its themes of power, community, and rebellion speaks to anyone. An HD restoration exists, hopefully meaning a proper physical release with all the bells and whistles isn't far off. (This seems like the kind of title Criterion would prioritize.) I'm glad I watched the film, an effective and eerie experience, and now I'm eager to search out some other Iranian horror flicks. [7/10]
"Freddy's Nightmares" was not a consistent show, not in quality or construction. Freddy Krueger only acted as a host to the series' stories... Except in eight episodes, which feature him directly involved in the plots. Most installments presented stand alone tales... Except for eleven, that operated as sequels to earlier ones. Finally, nearly every "Nightmare" was split between different tales... Except for two, which devoted a whole hour to their premises. "Sister's Keeper," the seventh episode of the first season, breaks all three of these rules. It follows Lisa and Merit, the twin daughters of the guy Freddy sought revenge on in the series' pilot. Neurotic Merit continues to have nightmares about Freddy, so much that she's spent some time in a mental ward. Popular Lisa simply wants to move on her with life. One day, feeling bad for Merit, the two twins switch places. The sisters also sometimes share physical sensations and dreams. Once Lisa begins having nightmares about Freddy too, the sisters decide to work together to banish the killer once and for all. Will it be enough?
Previous times I've watched "Freddy's Nightmares," I've found it to be an exceedingly lackluster series. Shooting on grainy video tape made every episode look incredibly cheap, a perception further bolstered by usually underwhelming special effects. Too often, the show's dream-centric set-up led to stories ending in incoherent ways. All of these factors are evident in "Sister's Keeper." The script indecisively juggles multiple concepts. The idea of the twins sharing sensations, some sort of "Corsican Brothers" situation, comes and goes from the story. Twin sisters switching places is a clever set-up. (I actually knew sisters in high school who did that exact thing from time to time.) Lisa being so cruel to Merit so often makes it hard to imagine she'd willingly switch places with her. All of these ideas are dropped by the final act, which focuses on the girls sharing dreams and teaming up to stop Freddy, an emotional connection not earned by anything that has come before.
This is especially evident in the acting. I don't want to be a dick about this but Gry and Hili Park are simply dreadful as Merit and Lisa. Their delivery is monotone and every attempt at emoting comes off as stiff. That the writing is bad certainly doesn't help. Robert Englund can make campy gold out of the thinnest straw but he seems uncertain here. It doesn't help that the main character is named Merit. What the hell kind of name is that?! They repeat it, over and over again! Exactly one scene is good. Freddy appears in Lisa's bed and mocks her virginal sister for her lack of experience and jealousy of her more popular sister. That has Krueger playing on the fears and insecurities of his teenage victims, which is what he's always done best. Otherwise, "Sister's Keeper" is an embarrassing, tedious hour of television that will only interest die-hard Fred Heads. Which I guess I must be, as I keep watching this show despite knowing it's bad. [4/10]
Every iteration of the Addams Family is fabulously wealthy but "Morticia the Breadwinner" is an episode that suggests their resources have their limits. Uncle Fester reports to Morticia that stocks are crashing all over Wall Street. Concerned for the family's financial stability, she organizes everyone to cook up side hustles in order to bring in some extra cash... Without informing Gomez, who has become stuck on the idea of buying up a failing train company in a swampland. After every other plan the other Addams present doesn't get far, Morticia unknowingly ends up in a bid to sell her own shares in the train company to her husband.
Considering the overall absurdity of the Addams' ridiculous wealth – a prior episode saw them attempting to spend billions on their own space program, while another suggested Gomez has priceless diamonds laying around – it's difficult to take the idea of them running out of savings too seriously. This premise is clearly an excuse to create more wacky interactions between the Addams and more traditional folks. Such as a very broad scene where Wednesday and Pugsley open their own version of a lemonade stand, selling hemlock to an unsuspecting passerby. Or Granmama offering beauty tips to saloons. It's the main joke of the series, the Addams doing their macabre thing when normalcy is expected from everyone outside the family, simply going in a slightly different direction than usual.
In general, it's a weird premise for an episode. Especially considering Gomez has, in the past, been delighted by his financial endeavors failing. Most of this idea, especially Morticia refusing to tell her husband about it, strikes me as deeply contrived. Having said all that, I did laugh a few times. Such as Fester practicing his dynamite skills on the family safe. Or the cute result of Morticia's attempt to start a fencing instructional course. Granted, this is another episode that ends with a phone call but at least we see both sides of the conversation this time. [5/10]
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