Halloween 2026: October 5th

 

The Housemaid (2016)
Cô Hầu Gái

Vietnam doesn't really have the tradition of horror movies that many of its neighboring nations do. The Wikipedia article on Vietnamese cinema references a short from 1937 entitled "Toét's Scared of Ghosts," supposedly one of the first fictional films made in the country and a "comedy with a slight romantic horror theme." There's also a Vietnamese-made Hong Kong production from '37 called "The Ghost Field" but I'm betting any ghosts in that one are probably of the metaphorical variety. Because most early Vietnamese films are documentaries or propaganda efforts. After the war and the unification, it seems social-realism was the primary genre favored by studios and audiences for several decades. There's a 1999 movie called "The Building" (Chung cư), that most sources describe as a straight-ahead social drama but IMDb's plot synopsis pitches like a haunted house movie, so I'm not sure what to think about that. Generally speaking though, Vietnamese cinema didn't try to catch up with the J-horror fad until the 2000s. A 2004 drama called "Spirits" seems to incorporate some supernatural activity. A 2007 Korean co-production, "Muoi: Legend of a Portrait," sounds like a proper local variation on the ever popular "stringy-haired ghost girl" premise and is frequently listed as the country's first true horror movie. Since then, there's been an ongoing attempt to establish Vietnamese horror for real. Probably the most acclaimed example is "The Housemaid," a 2016 film from Derek Nguyen, which actually got some decent distribution over here. 

Our story takes place in 1953, in the midst of the First Indochina War. A young woman named Linh mysteriously appears at a rubber plantation deep in the woods, seeking work. Stern headmistress Mrs. Han reluctantly takes her in, advising her to know her place and never make eye contact with her French masters. Linh soon learns that the home is said to be haunted. That owner Captain Sebastian had a wife and daughter but, after being left alone for so long, the madame murdered the child and drowned herself. And her spirit is said to still wander the grounds. After Sebastian returns home suddenly with a war wound, Linh is tasked with nursing him back to health. They get to know each other and soon a passionate love affair ensues. All the while, threatening visions of Madame Christine pursue Linh. Soon enough, people begin to wind up dead around the mansion. 

If "The Housemaid" was a deliberate attempt by Nguyen and his team to establish Vietnam genre filmmaking on the international scene, it's easy to see the path they took. The film belongs to the classy tradition of gothic ghost stories and haunted period pieces, drawing some clear inspiration from "The Innocents" and "Jane Eyre." The mansion setting is handsome, filled with many shadowy corners and brooding windows. Fog seems to perpetually float over the forest floor. A gloomy atmosphere of repressed passion and barely concealed secrets prevails. The film does indulge in some noisier scares. The ghost of Madame Christine, a rotting corpse in a tattered gown, has a habit of leaping out and screeching at people. There's an attempted axe murder and a fairly well done sequence involving some zombies rising from the forest floor. The editing and sound design is a bit overdone at times. However, "The Housemaid" mostly does a serviceable job invoking some misty, ghost story ambiance without spoiling it too much with obnoxious loud shrieks and sudden intrusions. 

Aside from belonging to a classier type of horror, “The Housemaid” is also all too aware of the class and social boundaries facing its protagonist. Linh faces the challenges of being both a woman and a servant. One of Captain Sebastian's military pals attempts to insult her, while Mrs. Han repeatedly reminds her that she is not of the same strata as her employers. Even after beginning the affair with the man of the house, Linh receives scornful glances from his (white) fiancee, who declares her not pretty enough to be cheated on with. While these kinds of divisions and pressures are universal, “The Housemaid” is also distinctly Vietnamese though. Among the plantation staff is a cruel overseer, who nostalgically recalls the days of being able to torture deserters and others he deems “ungrateful.” These speak to specific abuses and injustices the Vietnamese faced under French imperialism. The film attempts to tie both its haunting story and its social minded, historical elements together into a twist ending that I don't think I entirely understood. Nevertheless, this is clearly a film where the boundaries of class and racism keep the heroine imprisoned as much as the haunting does. 

While I think there's some good skill on display here, and the film is sound in much of its writing and construction, “The Housemaid” ultimately left me a little unsatisfied. The pace is slow, almost dirge-like at times, as we watch Linh's daily misery. Meanwhile, her romance with her employer seems almost inevitable, the two destined to end up together as much as any other male and female lead in a romance story would. The film attempts to make the romance feel less mechanical. There's some passionate love scenes and a moment where Sebastian tearfully begs for Linh's forgiveness. However, it all comes across as more melodramatic than anything else. That emphasis of oversized emotions are present in other elements of the film, in the way it tries a little too hard with some of its ghost sequence or in the broader actions of some of the supporting cast. 

“The Housemaid” is not one of those tedious dramas, concerned only with making its social statements, that includes a handful of ghosts or nightmares to qualify for the much more commercially popular genre of horror. I do think the film is genuinely invested in the ghost story and handles it, from time to time, quite well. The appreciation of misty gothic atmosphere is very real. However, I do feel like the script is never quite able to bring its romance story, ghostly haunting, and class-drama threads together into a satisfying whole. Maybe a stronger lead performance would have helped, as Nhung Kate as Linh is a bit stiff at times. Either way, it's merely an okay, not great, attempt at a Vietnamese ghost story. [6/10]

 

Crypt of the Vampire (1964)
La cripta e l’incubo

If Sheridan Le Fanu's “Carmilla” must hold the title of Second Most Influential Vampire Novel in Literary History, I would say that's still a rather honorable position to be in. Obviously, “Dracula” would essentially invent the pop culture vampire. However, that krazy Karnstein was there first. The novel has gotten its own share of adaptations too, if not nearly as many to rival the Count. In fact, for the second time this season, I've found myself going into a seemingly unrelated vampire movie only to realize it's another adaptation of Le Fanu's book. While “Alucarda” was clearly a case of being merely inspired by the text, 1964's “Crypt of the Vampire” – alternatively known as “Terror in the Crypt” and probably a dozen other titles – is actually one of the more faithful adaptations I've seen. It's another film from Christopher Lee's Italian period, made when he had a week off from filming “The Whip and the Body.” 

Years ago, Sheena Karnstein was persecuted for the crime of witchcraft. Before being executed, she put a curse on the family, promising to return and haunt them again some day. Centuries later, Count Ludwig lives in the same castle with his daughter, Laura. Laura is haunted by reoccurring nightmares. Ludwig is afraid that she is possessed by the spirit of Sheena. Laura holds this concern too and has made her handmaid promise to kill her, should she ever be taken over by an evil ancestor. The castle sees two guests arrive. The first is Klauss, a scholar recruited to uncover the portrait of Sheena, revealing if Laura resembles her or not. Secondly, a carriage wreck leaves a young woman named Ljuba at the home. Her and Laura become fast friends but her nightmares persists. Strange murders begin to happen around the castle too, making Ludwig increasingly concerned that his daughter is now a vampire.

I've brought this up surely a dozen times before but it bares repeating. If an old horror movie has really pretty, black-and-white photography, I'm willing to give it a pass on so many other things. Well, let me tell you: “Crypt of the Vampire” is not a classic, by any means. Its story is somehow both a bit repetitive and somewhat confusing. It seems a large portion of the script is devoted to re-emphasizing that Ludwig is worried about his daughter, without really specifying how the curse is supposed to work. Her maid is also a witch, which is separately referred to as both a good thing and a bad thing at different times. None of the characters are that distinct and it's easy to confuse them. The pacing is rather slow, the audience often left wondering when the point will arrive. 

All of this is true and yet... “Crypt of the Vampire” is so pretty. Filmed at the Castello Piccolomini, the genuine ancient ambiance goes a long way. A shot of Laura running through the castle halls, coming to a large locked door right before the lights go out, is a great example of how far the location goes. Julio Orlas and Giuseppe Aquari's cinematography is rich with shadows. An especially stunning sequence involves an ascent up the staircase, carrying a rather unique candelabra, throwing brilliant shadows on the walls around. In general, the film builds some impressively creepy sequences. The discovery of why a bell is ringing or Laura's reoccurring nightmares prove to hit the exact sweet spot for rich, monochromatic shivers that I long for. 

“Dracula” and “Carmilla” are linked by the role dreams play in both stories. The vampire in each is an incubus-like figure, arriving to take something from the sleeping maiden while she is unawares. By devoting significant screen time to Laura's dreams, “Crypt” brings the idea that the vampire arises from the subconscious to mind much more clearly. This is further emphasized by the film barely disguising the queer subtext of the source material. Laura and Ljuba grow very close, very fast. They are often giving each other long, meaningful looks or little touches on the shoulders. They do seem to spend a lot of time together in their nightgowns. When Klauss makes his romantic interest in Laura known, she outright says she prefers Ljuba's company to his. Having the bite of a vampire seemingly bring sexual bliss is nothing new. It plays in slightly different context when it's two young women, their passions for each other unspoken, the sexual taste and the undead nature going hand-in-hand. If the vampire lurks in the subconscious, it lives in the same shadowy realm as the desires we oppress and try to ignore but that inevitably bubble up as we dream. 

Repressed sexuality is not the only thing lurking down there in the shade-blanketed neither land of our subconscious. Throughout the film, Count Ludwig is overcome with shame that his bloodline has doomed his daughter. He's such a devoted father, that he fears making his relationship with another woman in the castle obvious to Laura. He wants to protect her from the outside world, unaware that corruption is already working its fangs into her, in an innocent seeming form. Moreover, his own fear has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. By talking about the family curse, putting the idea in his daughter's head, he's insured that she's interested and fearful of this too. Thus, the parent has made sure that what he's most worried will certainly come to pass. It's another manifestation of our secret fears, shame, guilt, and worries arising out of the abyss of the mind and becoming reality.

The films he shot aboard in Italy, Spain, or Germany did not always ask Christopher Lee to do much more than glower or stand around menacingly. He does plenty of that here too. However, “Crypt of the Vampire” actually gave Lee some material to chew on. A moment where, all but tears in his eyes, he asks why his daughter must suffer actually had me feeling some things. None of the other performances are that notable, though Adriana Ambesi and Ursula Davis both have some soulful eyes. The inevitable Bava comparisons arises in the torture sequence flashback, showing the witch being strung up and punished, in a way awfully similar to “Black Sunday.” The film also includes the somewhat underwhelming climax from Le Fanu's novel, which probably wasn't its best idea. Nevertheless, despite some obvious and apparent flaws, “Crypt of the Vampire” is still ridiculously in my wheelhouse. [8/10]

Ghosts: Three Miles Up

There's been so much self-mythologizing about the BBC's lengthy history of ghost stories that even I, an admitted convert to loving this shit, am a little tired of hearing about it. Clearly, however, the British Broadcasting Corporation has been aware of its own legacy of hushed, spooky horror for quite a while. In 1995, the network would debut an anthology that was simply called “Ghosts.” The brief, five episode series has never been released on disc but remains well-regarded by fans of this sort of thing. “Three Miles Up” was the penultimate episode, based on a short story by Elizabeth Jane Howard, and was directed by Lesley Manning. As in, the filmmaker behind “Ghostwatch,” my favorite low-key but creepy ghost story to emerge from British television. Meaning I had to check it out.

John decides to reconnect with Billy, his troubled younger brother. They rent a boat and go for a long excursion through the Fenlands, ostensibly as a bonding exercise. This is fitting, as both brothers carry around a boatload of trauma from their childhood with an abusive, withholding mother. That includes John essentially raising his brother himself and their mother dying under mysterious circumstances. Among the possessions of dear ol' mum they find is a whistle, which Billy thoughtlessly blows. Shortly after setting up the river, they discover a young lady on the shore. Both men feel attracted to her, the rivalry between the brothers heating up. At the same time, their journey up the river seems to keep going, the duo's destination always “three miles up” from their current location.

All ghost stories are about the dead refusing to stay underground, a fitting metaphor for unresolved childhood hang-ups and sibling rivalry. John and Billy often bicker, their familiarity with one another colored by years of resentment and pain. Billy insists he was always mom's favorite, John shooting back that he was the one always watching after his brother. That makes the soggy, overgrown fens a very fitting setting for such a story. Throughout “Three Miles Up,” faces and objects either emerge from the dark waters or sink into it. Much like bad memories or deeply buried memories floating up out of the subconscious. The deeper down the river they go, the comparisons to the mythological Styx all too obvious, the more the past comes to life around them. The final image of the episode is nicely chilling, an appropriate visualization of the idea of both men being swallowed up from that which they attempt to forget. 

“Three Miles Up” is also really slow. Once again, this is a prickly story devoted to two characters who don't like each other, arguing about their past. The appearance of the woman is an especially Freudian intrusion into this uneasy balance. She's both a romantic object for the men as well as a stand-in for their bitter mother. That's a reveal easily foreseen. While slowly entombing dread is the obvious goal here, the episode moving at the same pace as the sleepy boat ride makes it a little harder to be sucked in. Still, there is a dreary ambiance to this one, supported by the perpetually overcast British weather. It's more sad than scary, more tragic than chilling, but still quite well done. [7/10]

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Bottle of Dreams

After spending a whole season hunting down the devil's playthings, Jack decides to throw a little party for Ryan and Micki. They get dressed up and pop a bottle of wine. That's when a weird guy in a turban delivers an ancient Egyptian canoptic jar. As they attempt to place the jar in the vault, Ryan and Micki are envelope in fumes from inside it. They begin to experience nightmares of their most frightening encounters, a personal hell that will ultimately end in their deaths. Jack stands up up stairs, inviting a friend named Rashid to help him undo this curse. This will mean confronting the spirit of Lewis Vendredi once again, as well as his own fears and regrets. 

Another episode set largely within the antiques shop, about the trio trying to unwind after capturing so many cursed items, is a fun idea for a season finale. Unfortunately, that set-up is soon passed over in favor of that most despised of cost-saving measures for old TV shows: The clip show. Bringing back some of the evil doodads for cameos is a great idea, as it deepens the sense of history and continuity the show has. Unfortunately, the minute the camera zoomed in on the demon doll from episode one and started replaying footage, I could tell what we were getting here. Yes, about half of the run time here is made up of recycled scenes from past installments. I hope I don't disappoint anybody by admitting that I fast-forwarded through the reused clips. Some of the clips chosen are also a bit questionable. I still think the doll episode was pretty cheesy, while agreeing that “Scarecrow” and the Dracula one were highlights. 

Clip shows are usually totally disposable episode that can be easily skipped. Maybe all too aware of that stigma, the “Friday the 13th” crew decided to also drop some essential lore in this episode. Here, we learn that Jack used to have a son, with psychic powers of his own, who died while trying to help someone. This episode also has Uncle Lewis reappearing. It's funny that the first episode established Lewis as ultimately remorseful about his mission to spread evil in the world, while every subsequent appearance has him being a willing minion of the devil. I don't mind too much, as watching R.G. Armstrong be evil is consistently amusing. I also like the minimalist but well done otherworldly sets used in the back half. It's nothing but a black backdrop with some dramatic lighting but it works. Certainly works better than the cheesy, stereotypical “laser” effects used a little later on. 

That puts “Bottle of Dreams” in an interesting place, half-way between the laziest way to pad out a season order and feeling like a proper finale to the last twenty-five episodes. I don't know if the episode can entirely overcome the inherent weaknesses of the clip-heavy format but I still think this one is okay. In fact, while the quality of “Friday the 13th: The Series” can vary wildly from episode to episode, I mostly found myself enjoying this first season. Like many shows of this nature, the chemistry between the central players has caused me to slowly become invested in them. While the gimmick of the week may or may not be lame, I simply enjoy hanging out with Jack, Ryan, and Micki. Yeah, I do think I'm going to check out the rest of this series. It's sometimes silly or limp but it's also the kind of old show I would've gotten really into as a kid. Ideal nostalgic October viewing, in other words. [Bottle of Dreams: 6/10] [Friday the 13th: The Series: Season One: 7/10]