Halloween 2025: October 1st

Witchboard (1986)

The concept of using a little piece of wood, commonly called a “planchette,” to communicate with otherworldly spirits dates back to at least the 5th century, when the Chinese concept of “fuji” (spirit writing) is first documented. A board with letters written on it was added sometime around 1100 AD. These “talking boards” really caught on during the spiritualist movement of the 1800s. That is when medium Helen Peters Nosworthy coined the term “Ouija,” which she claims the board itself chose and meant “Good luck.” It doesn't. In fact, “ouija” doesn't actually mean anything. It is a simple party trick, in which the unconscious muscle twitches of multiple people's hands work together to move a trinket around. This has been understood as early as 1852 but the belief that the Ouija board – a copyrighted brand name since 1890 that's currently owned by Hasbro – allows anyone to talk to supernatural intelligences persist. Christian religious organizations have derided the game as divination, occultic, and Satanic. There's been movements to ban their sale as recently as 2010. This connection with demonic forces was mostly popularized by “The Exorcist” but plenty of other horror films have capitalized on the idea. Such as Kevin S. Tenney's 1986 cult favorite, “Witchboard.” 

Med school drop-out Jim lives with his rich girlfriend, Linda. She invites Brandon – her ex and Jim's former childhood best friend – over for a party. Brandon is an avowed spiritualist and believes he has contacted with the spirit of a dead boy named David. To prove his beliefs, he brings a Ouija board along with him. He warns Linda to never use the board by herself before seeming to successfully speaking with David... Until Jim enrages the spirit and drives him off. After accidentally leaving the board behind, Linda carelessly attempts to contact David by herself. At the same time, at Jim's construction day job, a co-worker of his dies in a violent accident. Afterwards, Linda begins to act strangely. She believes herself to be pregnant. However, as the unusual behavior and violent deaths continue, Brandon becomes slowly convinced that Linda is being possessed by an evil spirit. He teams up with Jim to uncover the truth and learn the identity of the demonic being vexing them. 

“Witchboard” was the feature debut of Kevin S. Tenney, who began writing the script while still in film school. Tenney was inspired by “The Exorcist” to begin researching Quija boards, so he was doubtlessly aware of the many possession movies that followed. Linda's increasing entrapment by the villainous spirit shows in slow changes in her behavior, such as her swearing more, before escalating to weird nightmares and full-blown poltergeist activity. All stuff we've seen before but “Witchboard” injects some freshness into these ideas by combining them with other tropes. There are “Evil Dead”-style point-of-view shots of an anomalous force observing the household, which goes a long way towards selling the idea of an evil being attaching itself to these people. (The cinematography is overall fairly atmospheric, with some nice foggy moments.) There's also a heavy dose of slasher flick in “Witchboard.” The best sequence in the film involves a psychic being stalked through her house before winding up impaled on a sun dial. It's a ghost that's responsible for the killings but could just as easily by a masked lunatic in these scenes. By the end, “Witchboard” has even assigned a slasher movie villain style name, appearance, and gimmick to its villain. 

While the film adds some freshness to familiar concepts by mixing and matching ideas, what makes “Witchboard” really work is the dynamics between the characters. A love triangle is immediately established, with Brandon having his arm around Linda in the first scene despite Jim being her partner. The two guys basically spend every minute up to this point bickering with each other. The suggestion seems to be that highly educated Brandon doesn't believe blue collar guy Jim is good enough for Linda. While the woman is often the point of contention between the two men, she is increasingly not present whenever they are argue. Jim and Brandon start spending a lot of time together. By the last third, they are staying in a hotel room together, Brandon laughing at Jim's jokes. This follows a moment where Jim, wearing an unbutton plaid shirt over his hairy chest, puts his hand on Brandon's shoulder and stares deeply into his eyes. It seems unlikely that a homoerotic subtext was intended but the bond between the men is what actually drives the story. Their childhood friendship is only briefly mentioned in dialogue, making their progress seem more like angry dick-measuring between rivals accidentally awakening something deeper. 

Also furthering this reading of the film is the apparent sexual tension between Todd Allen and Stephen Nichols as Brandon. Todd plays Jim as a frequently sarcastic guy who hides his deep pain behind dry jokes. Todd has a laid-back persona and decent chemistry with everyone in the film. Nichols, meanwhile, has a strangely flat affect and often bellows in overblown ways. The two styles, one relaxed and the other belabored, weirdly compliment each other. Tawny Kitaen, cast right before she shook her ass on the hood of Whitesnake's car and become an eighties sex symbol, actually gives a decent performance too. When possessed by a demon – and putting on a man's clothes, so there's more fuel for a queer subtext – her performance gets very silly. This is a factor all throughout “Witchboard.” Most obviously present in the casting of Kathleen Wilhoite as “Zarabeth,” a medium with a New Wave fashion and a very annoying sense of humor. But I don't know. I kind of like Zarabeth. There's a casual silliness to many of the supporting characters in “Witchboard” – such as that goof-ball co-worker who ends up under some slate rock – that adds an easy-going energy to the entire film. The cast is all over the place but I like it that way. 

If there's any one flaw with “Witchboard,” it is a need to do too much. Tenney's script presents a number of interesting ideas that never amount to much in the story. Jim toiling as a construction worker while his girlfriend is seemingly independently wealthy and his rival/friend has clear blue blood connections introduces an element of class. This becomes more apparent once we learn that Jim came from a neglectful household. Early on, the idea is presented that ghostly spirits can choose who they want to be their parents in their next lives. Does this mean Jim chose his screw-up parents? The implication seems to be that ghostly David wants Linda to become his new mother but that plot thread is abruptly dropped before the end. Alongside a largely useless subplot about a detective convinced Jim is responsible for the murders, not forming some of its more subtextual ideas into concrete themes is a definite flaw here.

Being too ambitious is not the worst thing a horror film can be, especially when it has such a fun, relaxed ambiance to it like “Witchboard” does. I discovered the movie during a time when I would watch any eighties horror movie I could find, going in knowing absolutely nothing about it. This is exactly the kind of lack of expectations that causes a film like this to succeed. Never really scary or tense but undeniably chummy and comfortable, it is cleverly directed, has enough twists to keep you compelled, keeps a sense of humor about itself, and is a bit smarter than it needed to be. Oh, by the way, the film was originally entitled “Ouija” and even used a Parkers Brothers board game before someone realized that was a trademarked term. “Witchboard” is a cooler title if you ask me but all those insert shots of generic talking board are impossible not to notice once you see them. [7/10]

247°F (2011)

In my opinion, everybody is, to some degree, claustrophobic. It is simply the human survival instinct. We all know that we need oxygen to live. The smaller an area we are inside, the less available air there is, the more we start thinking about running out. Perhaps it triggers, in all of us, some primordial fear of being buried alive. A number of horror movies have come along, mostly in the last twenty years, attempting to capitalize on this universal anxiety. That such a premise also means only a single location would be needed for production surely is a factor in why this idea has become so catchy to low budget filmmakers. This has resulted in multiple motion pictures about people stuck in cars, elevators, and water of varying depths. An increasing need for novelty has led to confined space thrillers with more and more specific locations. Such as a high-tech cryo-chamber or a fuckin' tube in the ground. Or, as in the case of one of the few horror movies made in the Eurasian nation of Georgia, a sauna. How about we strip down, sweat it out, and give 2011's “247°F” a shot?

Jenna and her fiance were in a car crash. He was left dead and she was deeply traumatized. A year later, she travels with her friends – couple Renee and Michael, nice guy Ian – to the Georgian countryside for the Victory Day celebration. There, they meet another friend, Wade, who has built a vacation cabin near a lake. The wooden structure includes an old fashion sauna. As the quartet kill time before a party that night, they decide to strip down to their underwear and relax in the balmy heat of the sauna. Michael has too much to drink, argues with Renee, and storms out... Without realizing he's dropped a ladder in front of the sauna door, blocking it off and trapping his friends inside. He then leaves to meet Wade for a fireworks demonstration. With no one coming to their aide, and seemingly no way out of the heated room, Jenna, Renee, and Ian will have to find some way to survive before they swelter to death. 

Confined space thrillers are clever ideas, in the sense that they play on common fears and turn a single location into an asset. Unfortunately, justifying how exactly people could get stuck in spaces as unlikely as a ski lift or an ATM booth often necessitates some implausible story choices. "247°F" is supposedly inspired by a true story, though I can't locate any news article about the events. The initial set-up, of a blockage tumbling into the path of the sauna door and trapping people inside, seems like something that probably could happen. Making the guy responsible a drunken lout of such inconsiderate idiocy that he would never think to look back is certainly not outside the realm of dumb-ass shit people do. But it's starting to push it. From there, "247°F" has to repeatedly emphasize how isolated the trio inside are and how the mechanics of the sauna function, in order to prolong danger. The handle to open the door from the outside can't be reached after bashing out the window with a sauna rock and Ian can't just kick the sturdy door down. Sure. The thermostat being set up in such a way that no one can access it starts to feel like bullshit. By the time "247°F" has fireworks going off right at the same time Wade's dog barks to alert his owner to the screams coming from his cabin, things have officially gotten contrived. When a script has to increasingly pile up the unlikely events to prolong its story to feature length, eyes are bound to roll. 

While setting most of your movie entirely within one room is a smart way to stretch a minuscule budget, it presents other challenges. Namely, how do you get eighty-eight minutes of story out of such a limited location? After a while, the movie is going to be nothing but people sitting around and sweating to death, right? Lloyd S. Wagner's script fills time with numerous escape attempts. A broken ladle shoved into a light socket or someone going crazy and tackling the stove seem like desperate reaches. Mostly, "247°F" pads things out by relying on the worst cliche of low budget horror movies: The characters childishly bickering about past grievances while trapped in a life-or-death situation. Christina Ulloa plays Renee as a self-centered type that gets increasingly bitchy as the film goes on. By the time she's verbally attacking Jenna for not being a present enough friend while processing the death of her fiance, any sympathy you might have had for this character is long gone. She's a schoolyard bully and you do not care of she lives or dies. Not that Jenna is much better. She is so thoroughly trapped in her trauma as to be a non-entity, spending most of the movie curled up in a ball and whimpering. Scout Taylor-Compton never makes the character more than a panicked ball of exaggerated mental torment that she never reads as a real person. Far too much of "247°F" depends on its characters simply being awful to each other. Which does not make the viewer want to be stuck in a boiling sauna with them for any amount of time. Nor does it make the final image, a last ditch attempt at sentimentality, believable. 

In general, "247°F" gives the impression of a rather slapped together affair. The script requires far too many difficult to believe events to be swallowed. The characters are shallow and unlikable. The acting is hammy. The movie repeatedly cuts away to Wade – played by the second cast member from Rob Zombie's "Halloween" in this film, Tyler Mane – doing inconsequential stuff like smoking a joint. It might have simply been the copy streaming on Tubi but the sound mixing seemed off to me, the music often blaring over the dialogue. Cinematographer Vigen Vartanov shoots the entire movie in a flat, blandly lit fashion that makes it look like a soap opera. The slow fades to black used repeatedly between scenes do not dissuade this impression. The use of some less than convincing CGI in the last third is the final sign you need that "247°F" was a somewhat shoddy production, either falling short of the money or creativity necessary to truly make this idea work. 

The more I watched the film, another idea occurred to me. Setting nearly your entire movie in a sauna is also a reason to keep your cast in their underwear, shiny and sleek with sweat, for most of the runtime. I guess the lack of sleazy discomfort, what with the displayed flesh being equal opportunity and the lack of any blatantly pervy camera angles, is a check in the pro columns for "247°F." (Or not, depending on what you're looking for.) Co-director Beqa Jguburia has no other credits of note but Levan Bakhia also made "Landmine Goes Click," another film with a similar confined premise. That one got slightly better reviews though seems to suffer a lot of the same flaws as this one. It's a noble mission, to make a thriller stuck in one perilous location, but it takes a lot of cleverness to overcome those limitations too. There's a Finnish movie about a scary sauna too. Maybe I should've watched that one instead... [4/10]

 

Alien: Earth: Neverland

They've been threatening to bring the personal space invaders of the “Alien” franchise to Earth since that incredibly misleading teaser trailer for “Alien 3,” with the idea serving the basis for a proposed fifth entry for many years.  Meanwhile, a television program set within the “Alien” universe has been considered as far back as the release of the original. At one point, a Saturday morning cartoon show based on “Aliens” got so far into development that the accompanying toyline saw release even when the series didn't. Discounting a crossover nobody likes to talk about and a promotional web series for a video game, neither idea came to fruition. However, after Disney consumed 20th Century Fox, the latter studio's sci-fi/horror properties have been a high priority for them. Expanding that cinematic universe means a big budget television series to fill out cable networks and streaming service portfolios. Noah Hawley, who previously succeeded in developing unlikely intellectual properties into successful TV shows, was given the reins to “Alien” a few years back. After much delay, “Alien: Earth” finally debuted last August. Despite being massively let down by the last movie, I'm still invested enough in this name-brand to give the show a look. 

Set before the original film, “Alien: Earth” begins aboard a Weyland-Yutani vessel sent out into the depths of space to retrieve some hostile foreign shapes. Naturally, that pesky dick-head gets out and runs amok. The ship crashes on Earth, in the city of New Siam which resides on a stretch of land owned by the Prodigy mega-corp. A team of soldiers are sent in to retrieve any valuable tech contained within. Prodigy is at the forefront of “hybrid” technology, which involves transferring human consciousness into robot bodies. A near-by island is laboratory for these experiments. Wendy, a terminally ill girl now residing in an android adult body, is the first test subject. Upon learning that her long lost brother Joe is among the soldiers sent into New Siam to investigate the crash, she insists on looking into it. The only survivor from the wreck was the vessel's resident cyborg... The only human survivor anyway...

Much like “Alien: Romulus” and most modern legacy sequels, the first episode of “Alien: Earth” shows an almost fetishistic devotion to replicating the superficial aesthetic of the original movie. The first scene features the title slowly forming out of hash marks, a crew awakening from cryo-sleep aboard an industrial space-ship, and a soundalike for Jerry Goldsmith's “Alien” score. The difference between seventies screenwriting and modern, corporate-approved storytelling kicks in during the following lunch scene. That's when, in some extremely unnatural expositionary dialogue, it is revealed that five different mega-corps have split up ownership of Earth's continents and the various intergalactic colonies. This follows opening on-screen titles explaining the difference between cyborgs, androids, and hybrids. All of this strikes me as an extremely bad omen. This show has eight hours to fill. They couldn't let the world-building naturally develop throughout the series? We had to know all that shit right away? 

This is, no doubt, the side of my brain that is extremely cynical about all modern television speaking. “Neverland” – the first of many “Peter Pan” references here – does contain some of the big sci-fi ideas that the “Alien” franchise is known for. An interest in trans-humanism is already evident in this first episode. What with the idea of sickly dying kids having their brains transported into immortal robot bodies. A throwaway line mentions that Wendy's cybernetic form doesn't pump with the same hormones as your average teenage girl's body would, meaning her emotional reactions are different. That's a side of being a robot I never considered. Mostly, Wendy's inhuman nature is displayed in how she longs to re-connect with her flesh and blood brother, which is also explained through some belabored dialogue. Sydney Chandler seems to have a compelling screen presence, at the very least. The show is already contrasting Wendy's more personable brand of robo-humanism with the colder synthetics around her. 

“Alien” isn't only a science fiction series though. It's also horror. How does “Neverland” function in that regard? Well, the one sequence devoted to a Xenomorph ripping it up aboard the descending ship does generate some suspense. We have zero investment in these characters so far but the cyborg being very close to getting chomped on is cool. The shots of corporate marines poking around a ruined city are more standard issued. There's some weird slug thing crawling into a dude's mouth and lots of lurking in shadowy, industrial settings. I can already feel which of these story threads are going to bore the fuck out of me as this show goes on. Also, it bugs me how Disney-owned movies pop up in the background here. As if the show can't hold back for a minute to remind us that “Alien: Earth” was made by the same studio that owns “Peter Pan” and “Ice Age.” [6/10] 

Freddy's Nightmares: Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?
 

Based on the previous evidence I have gathered, I am confident in saying that “Freddy's Nightmares” was a bad television show. Nevertheless, every October, I find myself returning to it. “Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?,” the tenth episode of the second season, is currently the highest rated installment on IMDb, for whatever that is worth. The first half concerns Lisa, a teenage girl who agrees to take over a babysitting gig for her friend. Upon arriving at the house, she makes a disturbing discovery: The family seemingly keeps their eldest daughter locked up in the basement, treating her anguished screams as a normal occurrence. The second half follows Lisa's mother who has gone a little crazy since her daughter's apparent death in a car crash. That's when the girl, having escaped from the basement, arrives at the home and attempts to assume Lisa's life. Or, at least, that's what I think happened. 

See, “Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?” is one of those “Freddy's Nightmares” that functions as a sequel to a previous episodes. I haven't seen “Bloodlines,” the story this one is following up on. I don't think that would make the second half anymore coherent though. See, a reoccurring problem I've noticed with “Freddy's Nightmares” is that the show repeatedly felt the need to re-enforce the “nightmare” aspect of its premise. Each episode had to feature dreams in some way. In this episode, the protagonists of both segments repeatedly drift in and out of dreams. It gets tot eh point that the viewer is repeatedly unsure of what scenes are reflecting reality and which are dreams. That becomes especially confusing in the second half. The story seems to be about the spirit of trapped girl trying to convince Lisa's mom to murder her. However, constantly jumping back and forth between jump-scare dream scenes and actually relevant information means I was never sure what the fuck was actually happening. 

The first half of “Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?” is better, if only because it actually has a concrete premise. The idea of a teenage girl showing up for a routine babysitting job, only to discover some weird shit, is a classic horror movie premise. Considering “A Nightmare on Elm Street” has always been about the suppressed traumas of suburbia, the idea that a seemingly normal family has a whole Bertha Mason situation going on behind closed doors is potent stuff. As previously established, “Freddy's Nightmares” had the production values of pornography and a writing staff composed entirely of people with CTE. Meaning this script leaps between an onward moving plot and stupid nightmare scenes that go nowhere. Lisa has a bad habit of falling asleep on the job, it seems. There was potential here but no time, skill, or effort behind it. Having said that, Freddy's host segments do provide some extremely cheesy one-liners from Robert Englund. Why couldn't this whole show have been Freddy running his own version of “Pee-Wee's Playhouse” out of his boiler room? That would've been funnier. [4/10]

 

 

 

Halloween 2024: October 9th

Mahakaal (1994)

Don't think for a minute that remakes of foreign language hits are a strictly Hollywood phenomenon. Look no further than Freddy Krueger for an American pop culture creation that other countries simply could not stop ripping off. Mexico brought us “Don't Panic” and its croaking Virgil. Indonesia mashed up Freddy with “The Exorcist” in “Satan's Bed.” The Italians had their own take too, naturally. Of all these Nightmare Feddys, none are more notorious than “Mahakaal.” With the English title of simply “The Monster” – though “Time of Death” seems to be a more accurate translation – the film has become notorious for being India's answer to Wes Craven's classic, with all the tropes you associate with that country's cinematic language. For years, out-of-context clips of the “Bollywood Freddy Krueger” movie have been passed around for hardened horror fans to laugh and point at. Perhaps one should not be so quick to dismiss the film though, despite it being a blatant knock-off of an iconic classic. “Mahakaal” is the work of Shyam and Tulsi Ramsey, two of most popular Hindi horror directors. That suggests the film deserves to be examined more deeply than its status as a meme suggests. 

College student Anita is having nightmares about a strange, scarred man with a clawed metal glove. She notices the wounds she sustains in her dreams seem to translate to her physical body when she wakes up. Her police chief father – still heartbroken over the murder of his youngest daughter, Mohini, years earlier – tells her not to worry about it. Her friend Seema is having the same dreams too. While on a picnic with their boyfriends, Prakash and Param, Seema dies violently in her sleep. Param is the only suspect in the case but he is also soon bizarrely killed in his prison cell. As the nightmares continue to haunt Anita, she discovers the same clawed glove in her father's desk. It turns out her dad buried a sorcerer named Shakaal alive after he murdered Mohini to increase his magical powers. Shakaal has now returned as a dream-invading demon, determined to rebirth himself into the physical world by possessing Anita and getting his revenge on the police chief. 

Inevitably, "Mahakaal" will be of most interest to western horror fans for the elements it blatantly takes from "A Nightmare on Elm Street." The film doesn't stop at swiping the general premise – a burned murderer with a razor gloves kills people in their dreams – and goes so far as to directly copy several scenes. Anita, our Nancy stand-in, falls asleep in class and sees a dead body in a plastic bag beckoning her into a boiler room. When Param surprises her outside school, it mirrors Rod trying to convince Nancy of his innocence in Craven's film. Obviously, the dream killer framing a girl's boyfriend for her murder is a plot point taken directly from "Elm Street." "Mahakaal" doesn't stop at emulating the original either. As the film goes on, it starts bringing in ideas and sequences from the sequels too. Anita being possessed by Shakaal, so the villain can re-enter reality, is clearly inspired by "Freddy's Revenge." Later, Shakaal kills the secondary villain by springing out of his waterbed, replicating the "wet dream" kill from "Nightmare 4." There's a shot of the glove sailing through the air by itself too, which I suspect was also inspired by that sequel. 

As similar as "Mahakaal" is to the Krueger canon, the differences are notable as well. No film is made in a vacuum, "Mahakaal" filtering the Hollywood creation through a Hindi cultural lens. First off, everyone is made older, the teen heroes being transplanted to college. The Freddy stand-in's status as a child murderer is downplayed and his perverse tendencies are totally absent. This means the stranger danger premise of a weirdo dragging a kid down into the boiler room for unspeakable reasons are gone too. Shakaal still hangs out in a dark, hot, industrial setting but no deeper reason is provided. Shakaal also still has a fucked-up face but he's now a victim of being buried alive, instead of burned. (He also has a full head of hair, sporting a mullet of sorts.) All of this feels like a result of different censorship standards. Indeed, "Mahakaal" keeps most of its gore off-screen. Shakaal's methods involve covering his victim with a blanket when they get slashed or summoned cobras to bite them to death. The bladed glove is more for intimidation than execution, it seems. The only changes that seem to truly reflect Indian ideology is a scene where a Hindu monk is consulted and Anita's parents still being together. 

Instead of filtering Craven's original through the unique sensibilities of their culture, the Ramsey brothers mostly stand Bollywood cinematic staples alongside the familiar moments. Which is to say "Mahakaal" contains countless wild tonal shifts. First and foremost: Yes, the movie is a musical. Disappointingly, this does not mean the Freddy rip-off sings and dances. However, Anita, Prakash and their friends do perform several extensive numbers. Prakash and Anita head to the beach and sing a lengthy song about their love for each other. Later, the gang goes on a picnic, resulting in another long production about what a great idea that is. After Shakaal takes over Anita, it leads to a full-blown disco sequence. What is most staggering about these scenes is there is no attempt to blend these songs with the horror tone of the rest of the movie. The characters will go from being chased by Not-Freddy through his spooky lair to a music video-style breakdown. It catches you off-guard. This isn't my genre of music, so I can't say the trilling vocals, repetitive lyrics, and chintzy melodies are appealing to me. Though that picnic song is kind of catchy...

The bizarre tonal shifts do not stop there. "Mahakaal" wildly leaps through different genres without warning. Everyone in the film is friends with Canteen, who can charitably be called the wacky comic relief. He is introduced impersonating Michael Jackson and later mimics Bruce Lee. A very long scene has the same actor playing the weird, pervy owner of a hotel. The comedy here is, to say the least, not to my liking. It's mugging, obnoxious, loud, and unending. As inexplicable as that moment is, a later scene tops it. While Anita and a friend are out on the town, a group of thugs attempt to assault them in a restaurant. Canteen appears to save the day while dressed as Shahenshah, a character from a 1988 film of the same name that, as far as I can tell, is some sort of superhero. That this wacky comedic scene is proceeded by a threat of sexual assault is also not uncommon in "Mahakaal." Anita is almost raped by a gang leader named Randheer. (In addition to multiple scenes of women wearing wet clothes, seemingly a common form of acceptable titillation in Bollywood cinema.) This results in an awkward, if elaborately choreography, fight scene. In fact, sudden pyrotechnics and high-kicking fight scenes can occur any time in "Mahakaal." I guess in a world where people bursting into song and dance is commonplace, everyone being down for a rumble isn't unexpected either. This is, unavoidably, eventually applied to the villain as well. "Mahakaal" concludes with Anita's boyfriend beating the shit out of Shakaal. Let's see Johnny Depp try that.

From my admittedly limited exposure to Indian cinema, bizarre right-turns in style and tone like this do not appear to be altogether atypical. The result is an unpredictable experience. "Mahakaal" is not without some decent horror ambiance. Shakaal's nightmare realm is often shaded in moody purples and reds. Chains dangle from the ceiling ominously. There's a cool, Raimi-esque shot of the camera swooping through the air, not to mention a few P.O.V. angles from the glove. A chase scene through a freezer full of huge sheets of ice is well done. Shakaal mostly hangs out in a creepy den decorated with an enormous skull. The attempts to copy the gore of the original is usually underwhelming, resulting in a lot of very clean looking skeletons popping out or an underwhelming skinless face. However, the finale features both an enormous guillotine and a wall of slowly advancing spikes, which are welcomed additions. 

However, my attempt to genuinely like "Mahakaal" was ultimately a futile one. The comedy is so annoying. The musical numbers are not well integrated into the rest of the story. The ever present but casually dismissed threat of sexual assault did make me uncomfortable. Seeing low budget recreations of famous Hollywood scenes are not truly worth the two hours and twelve minutes it'll take for you to watch this. Indian cinema is a vast landscape, reflecting cultures, languages, ideas and styles. I'm sure horror films better than this have been made in that industry. There's certainly a novelty to "Mahakaal" but, sadly, it's grating humor and whiplash inducing style changes left me more baffled than enthused. [5/10]

The Seduction of Amy (1975) 

Phantasmes

Last year saw the release of "Orchestrator of Storms," as comprehensive a retrospective on the career of Jean Rollin as we're likely to get. Over the years, I've grown quite fond of the French director's dreamy, campy, lady vampire-filled work. The documentary gave me a peek at some of the more obscure corners of Rollin's career too. Such as his occasional forays into hardcore pornography. Rollin's horror films usually strayed into the erotic but, to keep the lights on, he took several triple-X gigs in the middle seventies. Rollin himself was dismissive of his smut but he did deem one worthy of carrying his actual name. "Phantasmes" would see the filmmaker sneaking in some of his reoccurring obsessions amid the expected unsimulated humping. The film currently survives in two forms: The unsubtitled French original and a dubbed U.S. cut, retitled "The Seduction of Amy" and missing twenty minutes. Either print is in miserable shape but, in the name of completeness, I watched both. In other words: I'm reviewing an actual porno and, yes, I watched it twice. Truly, it has come to this.

As you'd expect from a motion picture belonging to this particular genre, "The Seduction of Amy" is rather light on narrative. Amy is a virginal maiden who escapes being assaulted after the brute (played by Rollin himself) punches her into a lake. When she awakens, she is in the secluded chateau of Count Gideon. He claims to be a widower but the truth is stranger. The castle was once owned by the Marquis de Sade and the rituals he performed compel the current residents to get up to similarly unrestrained actions. Other women and guests wander into the building, engaging in lusty pleasures. When Gideon is done with them, they are locked up in the dungeon and subjected to the lash. Will innocent Amy be the next victim of the count's twisted passions or can she reach his inner heart? 

The copy of "The Seduction of Amy" floating around the internet – unsurprisingly, I watched it on a porn site – is in rather sad condition. It's dark and murky. The color grading shifts randomly from scene to scene, scratches and grain are ever present, and the reel visibly breaks at one point! However, through the subpar presentation, one can spot some of the Rollin trademarks. The isolated chateau setting has the gothic trappings that define his career. This becomes especially apparent when Amy – in a see-through nightgown, another Rollin trademark – wanders the castle at night with a candelabra. Rollin's visual playfulness and love of horror atmosphere shows the most during a coupling set in a tomb. The female performer's shadow is cast large over the stone walls as she goes about her business with her male costar. The final love scene takes place on a beach, though not the beach that crops up in so many of the director's films. 

Thematically, the film is abreast – excuse the pun – of some of Rollin's other work. "The Seduction of Amy" can never quite capture the dreamy atmosphere of "Shivers of the Vampire" or "Lost in New York," being far too preoccupied with the earthly nature of the flesh. There are touches here and there though, especially when Gideon leads one of his conquests for a walk around the castle ruins. The story, of an innocent wandering into a frightening and corrupt world, recalls "The Demoniacs" and "Living Dead Girl." The way Amy inevitably partakes in the explicit actions without sacrificing her own pure demeanor, acting out of love and not lust, is another reoccurring idea of the director. As seen in "The Iron Rose" and "Night of the Hunted," naïf like female protagonists lost in dangerous and sexual netherlands, pulled between corruption and child-like perspectives, was the obsession Rollin was most stuck on, outside of vampires and creepy locations. Instead of "Dracula" or "Carmilla," "Beauty and the Beast" feels like the main source of reference here, what with a young maiden becoming the captive of a monstrous but pathetic man whose better nature she slowly brings out. 

As for the horror content, it's light. The spooky setting, women in cages, and themes of madness and obsession push the film into the margins of the genre. The most blatantly horrific scenes involve Amy being chased back to the castle by a menacing bank of fog and a DeSadian whipping. You can tell Rollin was doing his best to insert some of his personality into this one. However, unavoidably, "Phantasmes" fills most of its runtime with bodies intertwining in all the ways you'd expect. I know various scholars have gone to bat for the artistic merits of the porno chic era but "The Seduction of Amy" doesn't strike me as a good example of that. The lovemaking is mechanical. The camera work is clinical, with lingering close-ups on the orifices and appendages of the participating models. An earlier sequence in the shadowy catacombs of the castle suggests maybe Rollin was able to balance his aesthetic with adult movie expectations. However, most of the rest of the film is made up of the kind of sweaty, hairy eroticism likely typical of any motion picture of this type. The English dub, meanwhile, features some truly atrocious pop-rock on the soundtrack. Repetitive, tinny songs about "a red-headed woman" and how you can "double your pleasure" make many of the graphic scenes hard to get through. And not that kind of hard either... I thought seventies porn was supposed to have funky guitar soundtracks? I was promised bow-chicka-wow-wows. 

Every film deserves to be graded on its own merits. Since "The Seduction of Amy" is designed to get the viewer off, the questions must be asked... Is it arousing? Well, the actresses are all fairly attractive and you see a lot of them. Rollin regulars the Castell sisters appear, participating in some school girl themed spanking and other ribald activities. For the most part, it's tedious rather than interesting, much less erotic. I prefer my smut with more artistic flair or fetishistic intensity than this, it seems. Something about the equation is off when you think a porno movie would be better if the sex scenes were cut out. Since this is supposedly the best of Rollin's hardcore movies, I don't think I'll be compelled to dig up any of the other ones. My morbid curiosity is appeased but neither my higher nor lower functions were especially tickled by this presentation. We now return to our regular programming. Begone bushes and dongs! [5/10]

The Outer Limits (1995): First Anniversary

After watching an episode of "Goosebumps" yesterday, it got me thinking about horror/supernatural themed show for kids that's actually good, "So Weird." That show was molded by two writers, Jon Cooksey and Ali Marie Matheson. (Both of whom, by the way, I've had a chance to interview.) Among that duo's credits is also an episode of the 1995 revival of "The Outer Limits." Since I haven't liked most of the installments of this series I've watched, that gave me an extra incentive to watch "First Anniversary."

Based on a story by Ali's dad, "First Anniversary" follows an insurance agent named Norman. Through work, he meets the beautiful Ady – whose first husband recently died in a car accident – and the two quickly marry. The first year goes great. However, after that, Norman has moments where he's suddenly disgusted by the taste or smell of his wife. He tries to ignore it but the incidents escalate to disturbing audio and visual hallucinations as well. After his buddy – who is married to Ady's best friend – suffers a similar delusion and dies because of it, Norman fears he's cracking up. But he's not. His wife truly isn't what she seems and is hiding a horrifying secret.

"First Anniversary" is obviously a metaphor for a problem a lot of couples experience. Namely, that period when you've known your partner long enough to have seen all their bad habits. Despite your love for them, maybe you're annoyed by something small they frequently do. Maybe they make a weird noise when they chew or pick their nose or whatever. In other words, this is a sci-fi/horror escalation of what's commonly known as the end of the honeymoon period. Most of us, in these moments, realize our partners are human too and don't worry about it. But some relationships don't survive this revelation. "First Anniversary" blows up this idea into a husband suddenly finding all of his senses repulsed by his wife after a year of marriage. It's a good idea to turn into a horror story. "First Anniversary's" best moments is when Norman catches a glimpse of his wife in the shower and, for a split second, only sees a hideous, pulsating blob. Or when he hears her in the kitchen, making disgusting wet monster noises. Moments like these play like brief lapses in sanity, the kind of horrible but easily understood experience that horror can bloom from.

Unfortunately, this is the nineties' "Outer Limits," so there's not much room for subtlety. The metaphor is obvious and it goes hand-in-hand with some uncomfortable subtext. All the women in this episode are inhuman monsters trying to pull a trick on their husbands, before killing them. I think this is supposed to be an interrogation of sexism. Ady does love her husband, we find out. Running with the idea that there are secrets women keep that men can't understand is interesting. In execution, it looks like all women are part of a vast conspiracy to emasculate guys though. And it doesn't help that this is a pretty horny episode, featuring some pay-cable quality eroticism and exclusively casting model looking women in the roles. 

Another reason I checked this one is the cast. Matt Frewer plays Norman, with Clint Howard appearing as his best friend. Since "The Outer Limits" seemingly always ends up turning on the melodrama, the performances get quite campy before the end. I suppose that's to be expected of the otherwise decent Frewer and the typically mugging Howard. The creature effects are also better the less we see of them. Once the monster is seen clearly at the end, it's less creepy than catching a glimpse of a hairy, slimy hump. The script has to painfully explain what's going on before the end too, forcing this story solidly into the realm of sci-fi when it could've existed as dream-like horror instead. Despite the many reservations I had about "First Anniversary," the basic idea is still good enough. Combined with one or two effectively gross moments and it's still one of the more tolerable episodes of the nineties "Outer Limits" I've seen. [6/10]

The Addams Family: Progress and the Addams Family

The thirtieth episode of "The Addams Family" sees the spooky brood caught in the wheels of progress. The family's archenemy Arthur Henson is back, now functioning as the city commissioner. He plans to build a freeway through the town. Right through the Addams' living room, sending an eviction letter to the family and condemning their mansion. Gomez and the gang don't take this lightly, of course. When multiple attempts to convince Henson to change his mind don't quite connect, the family touches on a novel solution: Simply strap their home to the back of a truck and move it across town... Right next door to where Mr. Henson lives. 

Most episodes of "The Addams Family," in one way or another, match the family against the values and institutions of more traditional society. "Progress and the Addams Family" makes that an explicit confrontation. Once Henson threatens the family's home, the Addams go on the offensive. The running gag of Fester threatening to shoot people in the back returns. Lurch angrily grumbles at a demolitions worker and Thing shakes his fist/himself at another intruder. (Though from the way Morticia asks, you'd think he made a far ruder hand gesture.) However, the Addams prevail simply by sticking to their moral code. Henson isn't defeated with Gomez's circular legal knowledge. Instead, the Addams decide to be good neighbors and build their new home next to Henson's house. This horrifies him, naturally, and he changes his mind about the freeway. It displays the Addams Family's philosophy. They are unapologetically, uniquely themselves. They do not seek out confrontation and, instead, defeat naysayers by continuously refusing to capitulate. Those standing on less sturdy philosophical ground will eventually back down and the Addams will endure. It's a fascinating lesson to teach. 

Aside from exploring the family's credo, "Progress and the Addams Family" is simply a very funny episode that packs the gags in. There's lots of wacky fun here. Such as Granmama inventing two sticks that can produce thunder, Cleopatra being picky about her pork chops, and an amusing conversation about a judge's wig. The broadest and silliest gag involves the house being shipped across town, and the family preparing for that. (This is accomplished via some clever stock footage.) My favorite joke involves Gomez tearing up a letter, tossing it overhead, and the crumpled balls of paper simply vanishing. I also like a moment where Gomez, upon gazing at his wife, simply and sincerely announces his love for her. These two absolutely are the ideal couple! Good, silly fun and sharp social satire in its own way, "Progress..." is another highlight of the show's first season. [7/10]

Halloween 2024: October 5th

The Wizard of Gore (1970)

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.

Many horror films, over the years, have been accused of being nothing but an excuse for a series of elaborate, gory special effects sequence. This is usually an extremely unfair statement to make but it's actually fairly accurate when it comes to Herschell Gordon Lewis movies. With “The Wizard of Gore,” a director who never had much in the way of pretenses abandons even those. The meat of this motion picture – if you'll excuse a pun – is made up of Montag's bloody on-stage executions. He chainsaws a girl in half and hammers a spike into another girl's head until her eyeball pops out. Sword swallowing becomes a gruesome display and an industrial hole punch machine is applied to human flesh. Each of these gore scenes are accomplished largely by tossing fake blood and animal intestines onto the actors. As always, the effect is sickening if laughably unrealistic. The fake heads or body parts used could never be mistaken for the real thing. 

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. 

When I first saw “Wizard of Gore” as a teenager, it having less shoddy production values than Lewis' other movies was actually a mark against it. My taste have, indeed, evolved some in the years since. “The Wizard of Gore” is still a fascinating excursion into H.G.L.'s inexplicable story logic. There's a meandering subplot about Montag stealing bodies from the graveyard and morgue, usually depicted in red-tinted dream scenes I think, that never go anywhere. The exact mechanics of the villain's powers are never defined. No motive for his murderous actions is established. The script is largely composed of repetitive dialogue scenes, as the heroes bumble towards having some sort of confrontation with Montag. A reoccurring image of blood dripping from hands is the script's best attempt at foreshadowing and it doesn't make any damn sense at all. The result is as stupefying and mesmerizing as Lewis' best – or “best” anyway – movies are.  The gore auteur was never after more than making a quick buck but, sometimes, that accidentally resulted in art of some kind. 

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. 

That thematic thread has made “The Wizard of Gore” one of the better reviewed of Lewis' gore movies. It also led to a shockingly pretentious remake, which I'll probably have to review some day because Crispin Glover hams it up as Montag. The first time I watched this one, I was definitely into it more for the unintentional laughs than the ruminations on the nature of reality, fantasy, violence, and movie-making. As an adult, these ideas do tickle my brain. When wrapped up in the usual lack of plausible special effects, narrative coherence, or sturdy visuals, it makes “The Wizard of Gore” as bewitchingly inscrutable an experience as anything else the Godfather of Gore unleashed on the world. “Two Thousand Maniacs” is more coherent in its ideas, “Something Weird” is crazier and “Blood Feast” is funnier. Still, “The Wizard of Gore” ranks up there as one of the director's more brain-itch-inducing films. Better than “Suspiria?” Fuck no, what kind of crack was Juno smoking? But I did like it. [7/10]

Tall Shadows of the Wind (1979)

Sayehaye bolande bad

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. 

Early on in "Tall Shadows of the Wind," there is a long sequence of lingering shots of the castle overlooking the village while sounds of people chanting play over it. This immediately establishes an eerie atmosphere. We never see the scarecrow actually move on-screen. Instead, it simply appears in different locations. Its presence is suggested with shadows or far-off sounds of something moving. This removes any campy element from the premise. Instead of being a cheesy killer scarecrow movie, this becomes a chilling depiction of how madness and fear can grip a community. The supernatural entity doesn't murder. Instead, it terrorizes the psyche. An old woman is driven to get up and walk, a bundle of sticks on her back, for no reason. A young girl brings it water, while another couple is awoken in the night by the idol stalking outside their home. This is a terror that is inexplicable. Nobody knows where it came from or how to stop it. To Abdollah, all he sees is a figure made of sticks and discarded clothes. Everyone else in town imbues this symbol with an ominous meaning and it drives them all towards madness.

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. 

Nearly every plot synopsis I can find of "Tall Shadows of the Wind" mentions that it is a direct allegory for the political situation in Iran when it was made. More than one source claims the film is largely a critique of the Pahlavi monarchy that ruled the country before the revolution. There are apparently specific references and criticism of Shi'ite beliefs, which also got the movie banned by Khomeini's government. The film is based on a story by Houshang Golshiri, an Iranian author arrested at one point for his communist beliefs. Naturally, as a dumb-ass American who didn't live through these geopolitical events, most of this stuff went over my head. The climatic dream sequence, of people clad in red marching against the black dressed scarecrows, definitely strikes me as symbolism I lack the cultural context to grasp. However, some themes are universal. "Tall Shadows of the Wind" is about entrusting in something to protect you, only to have it turn against you in time. The same power the people of the village grant the scarecrow, by believing in its abilities, also allows it to terrorize them. This is a scenario recognizable to anyone with a minute's awareness of history. Those we entrust to keep us safe have a bad habit of abusing that trust. "Tall Shadows of the Wind" is about what was happening in Iran in the late seventies, yes. "Who watches the watchmen?" is still a sentiment anyone can understand. 

"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: Sister's Keeper

"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. 

Meanwhile, every attempt "Sister's Keeper" makes at scaring the viewer comes off as utterly inept. There's some nice colorful lighting in the nightmare sequences, undermined as it is by the shitty video quality. The dream scenes themselves, however, come off as more comedic than anything. Merit dreams that the guitar playing foot fetishist with a crush on her turns into Freddy, a hysterically goofy scene. He's jumping around, shredding on a flying V. It's so goofy! A moment of Lisa getting tossed down the stairs at school by the dream Merit is having about Freddy is similarly awkward. A bed sheet coming to life and holding Merit down is not exactly terrifying. The finale features Freddy's arm extending outwards to grab both sisters, which looks incredibly rubbery and shitty. I've made this comparison before but "Freddy's Nightmares" genuinely did have the production values of an eighties porno as well as the stilted, uncomfortable, and unprofessional look and feel of one. 

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] 

The Addams Family: Morticia the Breadwinner

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. 

By far the strangest of these attempts is Fester and Lurch trying to start an "escort agency." At first, I figured this phrase must have meant something different back in 1964. Surely, these characters on this goofy old sitcom weren't discussing talking up prostitution? Later scenes make the implications clear. Fester practices celebrity impersonations to impress his "dates" – which goes about as well as you'd expect – while a pair of ladies later refer to them as "gigolos." All I can assume is that audiences at the time were deeply naïve about what paying someone to spend time with you actually entails. Obviously, the fact that the clients of any sex work are overwhelmingly going to be men wasn't going to occur to anyone back then. Instead, this episode puts the mental image of Uncle Fester doing some rough trade into our brains before moving onto the next set of gags. 

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]