Halloween 2025: September 12th

 

Bring Her Back (2025)

Danny and Michael Phillippou's “Talk to Me” made a splash two years ago, becoming the latest horror hit pushed out by indie distributor A24. Whether the film proves to be fondly remembered as a classic or become especially influential, only time will tell. However, it did prove that filmmakers who get famous on Youtube first were capable of making movies that were both box office successes and critically acclaimed. When the Phillippou's follow-up, “Bring Her Back,” came into theaters this past summer, it led to some brief debate about whether kids who get famous for making short-form content for websites can truly be called “filmmakers.” This struck me as an extremely silly bit of gatekeeping. These two are clearly operating on a level far above the Logan Pauls and Shane Dawsons of the world. With their second feature, the Phillippou brothers have removed any doubt about them clearly having talent. The film doubled down on the grimness and doom-laden ambiance of their debut, showing that this duo are clearly determined to bring their own perspective to the genre. 

After their father collapses dead in the shower, teenager Andy and his partially blind half-sister Piper are put into the foster system. Andy hopes to become Piper's legal caretaker once he's old enough but his history of violence makes the social worker reluctant to approve of such a plan. Instead, both of them go to live with Laura, a former councilor whose also blind daughter recently died. Laura also lives with a strange, mute young boy she calls Oliver, whose eccentric behavior increasingly unsettles Andy. While Laura heaps praise on Piper, she seems to repeatedly push Andy's button and try to goad him into an emotional reaction. The reason for this is stranger than anyone can anticipate: Laura is enacting a bizarre occult ritual, to transfer the soul of her deceased daughter into Piper's body, using the demonically possessed Oliver as a conduit. Andy stands in the way of that plan, necessitating his removal by any means necessary. 

Andy, as played a very realistically vulnerable Billy Barrett, is said to have given Piper a black eye when he was younger. This is in contrast to the boy's current behavior, which is responsible to a fault and tightly wound. During his first night with Laura, we learn that Andy was abused – physically, possibly sexually it is implied – by his late father. It has left the boy with a phobia of showers, a highly protective streak towards his little sister, and a rage that he's doing everything he can to suppress. He admits this to Laura in confidence but she is another example of an adult that should not be trusted with children. This seems to be the reigning theme of "Bring Her Back," of the world's tendency to assume adults will approach the children assigned to their care with always pure intentions and the frequency of that trust being violated. Laura's abuse is not blatant. She keeps "Ollie" locked up in her room. She tells lies and manipulates events, often pushing Andy into moments that will make him uncomfortable. It's a different form of abuse from laying hands on a child but is just as traumatic an experience for those who have survived it. We know these kids are just getting out of a bad situation and the film repeatedly mines queasy tension from putting them into a worst one. It's a testy subject but "Bring Her Back" approaches it fairly. The script acknowledges the toll this has had on the boy, effecting the mistakes he's made, but there's no doubt where the filmmakers' sympathies lie. 

Laura is played by Sally Hawkins, the great character actress who often projects a maternal warmth in films like "Happy-Go-Lucky" and "Paddington." When she enters "Bring Her Back," she strikes a similarly eccentric but lovable persona... At first. There are signs that something isn't right, in oddities like a rug being taped down or a door always locked. The hints that Laura is not as trustworthy as she seems pile up quickly, a rude comment, a willingness to drink around the kids too much. A sickening act of sabotage is when it becomes clear that we are dealing with a monster here. Hawkins is terrifying in the way she swings between an acceptable outward persona and her sickening actions. She pushes Andy's faces towards his father's corpse at the funeral, something the boy is obviously horrified by. She tells lies, throwing out piercing insults that almost could be mistaken for innocent asides, and goads the boy towards lashing out at her. Her abuse grows more severe throughout, a constant seasick tension floating throughout as the viewer is made privy to the actions that no one will believe Andy is living through. Other adults are always going to trust adults more than the kids they victimize. 

Hawkins' Laura is certainly in the running for 2025's most despicable cinematic villains. However, as awful as her actions are, the Philippous' script makes sure to always put what she's doing in context. After many of her worst acts, time is taken to remind us that Laura is also a grieving mother. She will tearfully watch an old video of her deceased daughter. There is a desperation in Hawkins' voice whenever she discussed her late daughter, making the wound the event left on her all too clear. There is this deliberately uncomfortable trend throughout "Bring Her Back" to remind us that, no matter how dreadful some people might be, they are still people. Their choices don't exist in a vacuum. Lots of horror movies are about grief, to the point that it's become a cliche. However, "Bring Her Back" really examines how grief can break a person, how pain can turn someone who was previously a kind and empathetic individual into a beast. The script certainly never excuses what Laura does while reminding us, uncomfortably, that she believes what she is doing is justified. It's a bold and thoroughly disquieting choice. 

You can argue about the merits of making a horror movie, a fantastical narrative involving demons and witchcraft that is designed primarily to give teenagers nightmares, about a very distressing real world topic of child abuse. I'm not sure "Bring Her Back" quite overcomes the uneasiness in this divide. A handful of times, moments out of a more traditional monster movie – a single line of dialogue that is too movie-y sounding to me, a fight scene, blurry video recordings of arcane rituals – emerge and make this tension more evident. However, "Bring Her Back" does accomplish a dread laden ambiance throughout, creating a perpetually rainy and dour atmosphere. As in "Talk to Me," the Philippous show a skill for putting especially cringe-inducing violence on-screen. A moment involving a knife, a desperate chewing on a wooden table, and a thread of flesh being slowly dragged from an arm all made me groan. "Bring Her Back" features plenty of grinding sound effects and grotesque make-up work, designed to gross you out. When paired with such a grim story and a constantly downbeat tone, the result is a motion picture determined to ruin any good mood you might be having. 

I had a similar problem with "Talk to Me," a relentlessly depressing film that also couldn't totally avoid some genre conventions that end up sacrificing some of its better intentions. I do think "Bring Her Back" is a stronger and more assured motion picture than the brothers' debut. Dynamite performances from Hawkins, and newcomer Sora Wong as Piper, goes a long way to guaranteeing that. These are clearly extremely talented guys, who excel at dread-filled atmosphere and intense moments of cinematic violence. Whether they are exploring these themes out of a genuine desire to understand the human condition or simply to make a suitably fucked-up horror movie, I'm still not sure.  Whether these guys are setting out to be the next Lynne Ramsey, to put accurate recreations of anxiety on-screen, or merely the next James Wan, hoping to just make viewers jump, remains to be seen. Either way, "Bring Her Back" is an effective film, interesting and innovative, even if you're definitely going to feel like crap by the time the end credits roll. [7/10]

Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (1972)
 

I will always associate Bob Clark with the wave of Canadian exploitation films that started to filter into American cinemas in the seventies and eighties. Clark, however, was not a native of the Great White North. He, in fact, got his start in the Mediocre Sunny South, otherwise known as Florida. Yes, the director of "Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2" is one of us. While working in his college's theater group, he was approached by a local producer to direct an exploitation movie. That turned out to be the truly unfortunate sounding “She-Man.” The situation was so unpleasant for Clark that he decided to learn how to actually make movies before directing his second feature. A few years went by and Clark re-emerged with “Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things.” Shot for 50,000 dollars, with a cast and crew mostly made up of Clark's friends, the extremely lo-fi and off-beat horror/comedy would win a small cult following in time... Though a movie this unpolished and inconsistent being an improvement over Clark's debut should really give you an idea of how dire “She-Man” must be. But I'm getting ahead of myself. What is “Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things” about?

For reasons that are never made entirely clear, a theater director named Alan sails his troupe of actors and technicians out to an obscure island near Miami. The island's main feature is an old cemetery reserved for lunatics and murderers. Once there, Alan plays cruel pranks on his actors – including the witchy Anya – by having friends of his jump out of graves. He's brought along a witch's grimoire and decides to perform a ritual from its pages. This involves digging up the rotten body of a man named Orville. Alan drags Orville into the old house they find and continues to use his corpse as a prop, including in a bizarre mock marriage. As the night stretches on, it becomes apparent that the seemingly unsuccessful ritual actually worked as intended. The dead begin to rise and hunger for the flesh of the living. The actors wall themselves up in the home and do what they can to survive the night. 

A cursory look at the cast list of "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" will reveal that most of the actors are playing characters who share their names. Alan Ormsby – future writer and co-director of "Deranged" and "Popcorn" – plays Alan. His then-wife, Anya Ormsby, plays Anya and so on. That this movie about a college theater group doing spooky shit on an island was made by a college theater group doing spooky shit in Florida suggests a certain meta element. It also suggests people just kind of fucking around and making shit up as they go along. Which is what "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" is truly indicative of. The plot is loose, best described as "some people go here and do some stuff" for an hour before the zombies appear. The dialogue strikes me as mostly improvised. A sequence where a frightened stage hand references that he pissed his pants over and over again definitely strikes me as the kind of thing that sounds hilarious to you and your pals when you're simply riffing and maybe smoked a joint or two. The same is true of two other members of the trope being flamboyant homosexuals who spend the whole film dressed as Draculas. Or when Anya starts putting on a Yiddish grandmother accent in the middle of a Satanic chant. It all feels very in-joke-y and on-the-fly, done more to amuse the people making it than for the audience's benefit. 

Like most in-jokes deeply ingrained within an established group of (probably stoned) friends, the experience is largely tedious to outsiders. The acting in "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" is stilted, to say the least. That awkward quality is tied to the characters largely being extremely annoying. I'd call most of the people in the film "one-note" but the majority are more accurately described as "no-note." They stand around and make shrill voices, so interchangeable that their names are completely impossible to remember. Except for Alan, who is both the film's main character and its villain. Alan definitely has a note and it is "huge asshole." Ormsby says all his dialogue in a tone that is somehow simultaneously obnoxious, condescending, and monotone. Alan does nothing but belittle everyone around him, barking orders at them and insulting everyone. That he seems to think an act of simulated necrophilia – dragging Orville's corpse into the house, pretending to marry him, and then sleeping with the dead body – is the funniest gag in the world speaks to how sociopathic this guy is. One suspects the character was likely based on some real directors Ormsby and Clarke met in the theater. That doesn't make the character, who dominates most of the film, any easier to be around. 

That same element is what makes "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" interesting though. Alan is the first person to attempt the witchcraft ceremony designed to raise the dead. He sucks at it. (He also mispronounces "Grimoire," which would be a telling trait if it was done intentionally but I'm not convinced it was.) Afterwords, Anya jumps in the grave and does a far better rendition, which succeeds later on. The whole time, Alan stands there and glares at her, absolutely incensed that a woman is showing him up. If there's any deeper point to "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things," it's that, the exhumed corpse of male entitlement. One of the first lines of dialogue in the film, referenced throughout, is Alan mocking a female cast member for being a spiritual – but not literal, she clarifies – virgin, a rare example of someone getting called a nerd and slut-shamed at the same time. Alan's facetious wedding and (hopefully) mock deflowering of Orville feels like some weird attempt to re-establish masculine virility. It all comes to a head in the final minutes when Alan pushes a woman into a horde of zombies to further his own escape, before Orville – the Hitchcockian bomb under the table throughout the whole movie – finally activates. "Dudes suck" is an evergreen observation to make. It's not enough to make "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" a less irritating overall experience but it does imply some deeper intentionality behind the film. 

That's probably why this amateurish seeming, puff of pot smoke has garnered a small cult following over the years. Beneath the bad acting; dark to the point of indecipherable at times photography (even on the restored Blu-Ray); and relative non-narrative; the movie does have its merits. Ormsby is also credited with the make-up and he's much better at making zombies than acting. The faces caked with soot, sunken eyes, raggedy fangs, and chewed-up flesh all represent some genuinely impressive no-budget creature effects. I'd argue Orville's design, blank and non-threatening until it suddenly turns sinister in the final frame, is damn near iconic. "Deathdream" and "Black Christmas" proved Bob Clark had the horror chops. That is evident at times too. The sequence of the undead pulling themselves from their graves, shambling through the fog and eerily backlit, proves this probably could have been a good zombie movie if it hadn't waited until the last fifteen minutes to become one. 

That Bob Clark would go on to direct an influential horror classic, at least one Oscar-nominated drama, extremely popular comedies, and some of the most miscalculated motion pictures ever made is evidence that he had a genuinely weird sensibility. Which means some of "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things'" irritating qualities had to be intentional. A lot of it definitely was a lack of money and rough-hewed talent though. Before his untimely death, Clark was planning a remake of the film. This probably would've been a good idea... Except he was well into the "Karate Dog" era of his career by that point. I recall one interview where he mentioned rapping zombies? Yeah, maybe best that didn't get made after all. "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things" is mostly not worth your time but I can't entirely dismiss it either. [6/10]

 

 

Circle of Fear: Doorway of Death

Every episode I've watched so far has been good but NBC audiences in 1972 did not flock to the William Castle/Richard Matheson produced anthology “Ghost Story.” After thirteen episodes, the framing device with Sebastian Cabot as Winston Essex at the haunted Mansfield House was cut and the series was re-titled to “Circle of Fear.” The quality of the scripts remained consistent, as in “Doorway of Death.” A single father with three kids – teenage Peggy and the younger Billy and Robert – move into a new apartment. Dad is often away at work, leaving Peggy in charge of her younger siblings. The first day the kids are there, they notice a strange man from the apartment upstairs beckoning to them. The children enter the empty room and open a door, revealing a snowy field, a cabin in the woods, and the same man chopping wood... Often with a dead woman by his side. The seemingly homicidal spectre, unseen by adults, continues to lure the kids back to the doorway upstairs. Before long, he's trying to convince the kids to bring their teenage sister along too.

I have no idea how much “stranger danger” was on parents' minds circa 1973. From what my parents tell me, children were allowed to wander around as they please back then. However, the implications in “Doorway to Death” seems blatant to me. The strange, nonspeaking man smiles at the kids and waves playfully. This is despite his obvious threatening qualities, like his bloody boots or the axe in his hand. He's always friendly to the children, without approaching the adults until he's earned the kids crush. The climax involves the spectral man attempting to place the teenage Peggy in the same role as the dead woman he's dismembered. Which plays a lot like a metaphorical sexual assault. Perhaps we are more aware of these things now and it was all unintentional. From modern eyes, this reads a lot like innocent, naive kids are being groomed by a ghost into doing something unwholesome.

As you might guess, this premise causes a distinctly creepy feeling to float over the entirety of “Doorway to Death.” The kids, including prototypical troubled child star Leif Garrett as Robert, have such a sweetness about them that you immediately want to protect them. “The Partridge Family's” Susan Dey makes for a wholesome lead as Peggy. The scenes set in the wintry alternate dimension are always shot in a slow-motion, adding an eerie tone furthered by a dreamy score. A decent amount of tension is raised by the end, when the axe-wielding spectre finally makes his move. The episode ends with an exposition-heavy dialogue exchange basically explaining the nature of the haunting. That information surely could've been transferred in a more natural way. However, this is a solid hour in the “Circle of Fear,” though I do miss jolly ol' Winston Essex in the “Ghost Story” episodes... [7/10]

The Addams Family: Feud in the Addams Family
 

The Addams family's extended branches continue to grow. This episode introduces Abigail Adams, a cousin of Gomez by marriage with only one D. Gomez and Morticia dislike her, feeling like she's constantly after the family fortune. Despite that, Abigail is a high society member and that interests the bickering Courtney couple. This works out because little Wednesday has, recently, developed a crush on their youngest son, Robespierre. The Courtneys accept a tea date with the Addams, arriving under the mistaken belief that they are direct relatives of the affluent Abigail Adams. As you'd expect, the straight-laced Courtneys bristle against Gomez and the gang immediately. 

Here is another episode that feels like two separate ideas that got awkwardly fused together. On one half, you have some up-tight prim and proper types forcing themselves to interact with the Addams, because they mistakenly believe it'll win them some social points. This is another chance for the show to display one of the whole marks of its premise: That so-called “normal” families are a lot more dysfunctional than the outwardly macabre Addams. The Courtneys constantly argue, the husband threatening to divorce the wife any time they have a disagreement. Naturally, they are horrified by Cousin Itt dropping out of the chimney or Uncle Fester dropping in with a vice on his head. Mildly amusing stuff but nothing we haven't seen before from this program. Certainly not as adorable as the scene of Gomez and Lurch building a little house – adding a tiny King Kong to the roof – before smashing it with a miniature wrecking ball.

Much more charming is the B-plot, of Wednesday having her first crush. I don't know if a whole episode could have been supported by this premise. However, it does allow the entire family to play a role. Each member of the Addams give the household's youngest daughter advice on how to impress a boy. This amounts to a series of utterly adorable scenes of Lisa Loring, dressed in Morticia's trademark outfit, interacting with the rest of the cast. Her dragging around Fester's blunderbuss or giving Lurch a great big hug is utterly precious. Considering the series too often sidelines the kids, I like to see them given a proper role in the story and interacting with the rest of the family more. The way it all wraps up, very quickly before the end, also made me chuckle. Jeez, the appeal of sitcoms really is simply being able to spend time with characters you like, isn't it? [7/10]

 

Halloween 2024: October 18th

Hell's Ground (2007)

Zibahkhana

In 1997, British genre historian Pete Tombs published "Mondo Macabro: Weird and Wonderful Cinema Around the World." The book would bring to light to English speaking fans bizarre and fantastic exploitation and horror films from overlooked corners of the globe. This is when cult titles from Mexico, the Middle East, Turkey, South East Asia, South America, and Japan would first gain attention outside their countries. In other words, this Horror Around the World project would not be possible without Tombs' work. The author wasn't content to simply write about imported genre oddities though. "Mondo Macabro" would spin off into a British documentary series in 2001 and, finally, a DVD distribution company in 2003. It's still around too, putting out new discs to this day, in the shadows of similar labels that came afterwards like Arrow and Vinegar Syndrome. Tombs would prove his devotion to world genre cinema when he stepped into the producer's ring in 2006. He would co-write and co-produce Omar Ali Kahn's "Hell's Ground," promoted as the first gore movie made in Pakistan. The film made a bit of a splash at the time but has since faded from memory. However, the film's central image – a maniac in a burqa wielding an enormous flail – has certainly stuck in my memory all these years. 

In Islamabad, five students ditch school and head towards a rock concert instead. They pile into Vicki's tacky van, much to the horror of rich girl Roxy. The two head through a countryside locked in protest, as the local populace rage against a government that has let the water supply become polluted. The quintet stop at a roadside tea shop to buy some hash, which quickly makes stoner OJ sick. While in an outhouse, he’s attacked by a zombie in the woods. The undead swarm around their vehicle. The group soon escapes the undead only for their van to run out of gas among the dense trees. There, they slowly fall prey to a family of deranged lunatics living near-by. Soon, only the quiet Ash and scholarly Simon are left standing. 

During "Hell's Ground's" opening montage that establishes its cast of characters, we see OJ roll out of bed underneath a poster of William Lunstig's "Maniac." This signals, early on, what kind of movie we're in for. "Hell's Ground" belongs to a wave of horror films that arose in the late nineties and 2000s that essentially operate as a long series of in-jokes for genre fans. Kahn's film includes "Creepshow" inspired comic book transitional panels, a hero named Ash, and a horde of zombie gut munchers right out of a Fulci film. The inciting incident – young people head off to a concert and stop to buy drugs – is similar to "Last House on the Left." The classic the film is most indebted to is "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre," evident in the teens' van, a lengthy scene where they pick up a weirdo hitchhiker, and in the general plot of backwoods maniacs attacking them. (Kahn doesn't leave out his own country, as there's a lengthy shout-out to "The Living Corpse," the first Pakistani horror movie.) Reference heavy movies of this time period can quickly become insufferable, as they pile on the obvious homages and increasingly obnoxious tones of outrageousness. "Hell's Ground" avoids this fate by keeping it short – only running 76 minutes – and by mostly playing the story straight. The characters never become over-the-top assholes and their plight is largely taken seriously. 

I've seen "Hell's Ground" referred to as both Pakistan's first zombie movie and its first slasher film, the two subgenres most revered by 2000s gore hounds. You can tell which style Kahn and his team was more invested in. "Hell's Ground" sometimes feels like two movies rammed together. The zombie element is heavily foreshadowed, thanks to the scene's referencing contaminated water supply. The undead shamblers, however, only truly star in one scene. The rest of "Hell's Ground" is much more an attempt to filter by-the-book slasher clichés through a Pakistani cultural lens. The characters are willingly clichés. Ash is virginal and quiet, primed to be the final girl from the start. OJ is a classical stoner, Vicki the overconfident macho guy, and Roxi is the catty, gossiping mean girl. Most of the clichés of the genre are present and accounted for, such as a weird old guy who provides an ignored warning of doom. Or the youths splitting up so the killer can pick them off one-by-one. Khan’s film happily embraces the stereotypes of the genre, in a way that’s almost joyful.

While the characters are nothing more than archetypes, Kahn's film reflects the identity of his home land. A theme emphasized is that the kids’ parents all want a traditional path for them, either dismissing their scholarships or asking them to attend school like good boys and girls. All the teens wear westernized clothes and pepper their Urdu with English. There’s a feeling throughout that the kids have brought their bloody fate on themselves by rejecting the wisdoms of their elders. Also referenced is the class inequalities that led to the polluted waters. Most obviously of all is the slasher, a gender bending maniac in a burqa. As we learn more about the killers' background, we learn that he’s the result of a twisted matriarch imposing her views on gender conformity on her offspring. This subverts a traditional symbol of Islamic faith into a twisted figure of cultural repression. All of these ideas add up to make “Hell’s Ground” a film about the push and pull between the younger and older generation in Pakistan. 

Aside from being the country’s first splatter flick, “Hell’s Ground” is also notable as being the first shot-on-digital motion picture to play in Pakistani theaters. While the digital photography of low budget horror movies from this era are usually associated with ugly, washed-out presentation, Kahn’s film has a certain style to it. Fisheye lens are used a few times, to give a distorted view of the world. Once night falls and the slasher aesthetic takes hold, the cinematography makes good use of shadows, fog, and streaks of light. It still looks fairly cheap but clearly some effort was taken to make a stylish looking movie. The bloody mayhem is less elaborate than you might expect, though the murder and mutilation are quite well done. More than anything, the “daughter” that is the film’s central villain, swinging a spiked ball into windshields and carving out eyes, proves to be a memorably grotesque adversary. Feels like the kind of iconography that a couple of sequels could have been built around, ya know?

“Hell’s Ground” would be greeted with some censorship from the local government, not securing a theatrical release until a few minutes were cut. The film made a minor splash upon release, based on novelty alone, but Omar Ali Khan has yet to make a second feature. A handful of horror movies have been made in Pakistan since this one, though none seem to feature quite this much intense gore, slashers, or zombies. It seems fair to say that, outside of this one example, American and Italian splatter flicks haven’t had much influence on Pakistani cinema. Nevertheless, “Hell’s Ground” proved to be a surprisingly entertaining time at the movies, with a quick paced spirit of gory fun about it and an interesting perspective on the more familiar elements of the horror genre. Hopefully, a second slasher movie emerges from Pakistan some day, with as much spunk behind it as this one. [7/10]

Murder by Decree (1979)

In the annals of crime, there is no unresolved case more notorious than the Jack the Ripper murders. When it comes to fictional detectives, it's probably not inaccurate to say that none are as beloved as Sherlock Holmes. Or, at least, as commonly anthologized and adapted. Considering Arthur Conan Doyle's famous creation roamed the imaginary side of London around the same time as the Ripper killings were actually happening, it's not unexpected that several works have put Holmes on the most infamous unsolved case in English history. Numerous novels, stories, video games, and films have run with this idea. One such example is 1979's "Murder by Decree." The film represents director Bob Clark's last entry in the thriller genre after his beloved trilogy of Canadian horror flicks earlier in the decade, before the massive success of "Porky's" would completely redirect his career. The film's cast also includes Donald Sutherland, one of my favorite character actors who sadly passed away earlier this year. While certainly not the most straight-ahead horrific film of Sutherland's career, it's one I haven't seen so it seemed like a good choice to include in this year's Blog-a-Thon.

The year is 1888. A killer stalks London's Whitechapel district, brutally murdering prostitutes in almost ritualistic manners. Discontent grows among the common folks against the British monarchy. Sherlock Holmes is well established as the city's most brilliant detective, with Dr. John Watson also known as his loyal assistant. As no suspect in the murders has yet been located, Holmes is finally drafted to uncover the truth. He follows a number of bizarre leads and clues – including hints from supposed medium Robert Lees – as he investigates. Soon, Holmes uncovers a conspiracy surrounding the Ripper, rift with connections to Freemasonary and the inner circle of the royal crown. A conspiracy that he is quickly targeted by as well.

Sherlock Holmes is a character that has been portrayed so many times, that any fan of the material will have a different answer when asked who their favorite take was. In "Murder by Decree," Christopher Plummer does a dignified take on the detective. His eccentricities are downplayed, though he still loves to tinker in his laboratory and gets a flash of whimsy in his eyes when a case is afoot. The film shows a Holmes near the end of his career, the outcome of the case breeding a certain cynicism into him. Plummer's Holmes is also deeply empathetic, recoiling with horror at the conditions in a mad house. It's a respectable take on the character, though unlikely to be among my favorite. However, I did love the chemistry between Plummer's Holmes and James Mason's Watson. Mason's wheezing delivery, and twin reaction of annoyance and warmth towards his partner, makes the two seem more like an old gay couple than ever before. Mason's Watson also proved to be a worthy detective in his own right, during a scene where he talks up a courtesan in a pub. The two lead a distinguished cast. Anthony Quayle and John Gielgud have the proper amount of haughtiness as aristocrats. David Hemmings gets a notable moment of outrage against the upper class in one scene. Donald Sutherland's Robert Lees is a whispering, wide-eyed weirdo that the film depicts as genuine and Sutherland gives a believable amount of respect too. Geneviève Bujold also is a one scene wonder, as the gasping mad woman at the center of the conspiracy.

In other words, "Murder by Decree's" cast is full of refined character actors approaching the material with the utmost sense of seriousness. This is also reflected in the movie's sets, costumes, props, and cinematography, all of which are top-of-the-line. The shots of the sun setting and rising over the rooftops of London – achieved, I think, by some impressive miniatures – are especially striking. Despite the clear level of prestige within the film, it is still immediately recognizable as the work of the guy who directed "Black Christmas." In fact, the sequence devoted to the Ripper stalking his prey are shot from the killer's perspective. The slightly warped visuals, heavy breathing on the soundtrack, and the ferocity of the violence unavoidably brings "Black Christmas'" Billy to mind. Much like how that classic slasher was elevated by the sheer freakiness of its villain, Clark depicts the Ripper as practically an inhuman monster. The glimpses we get of his eyes are strangely wide, as if the murderer's bloodlust has driven him into a drug-induced trances. When the killer's identity is revealed, it's with a door crashing open and blood splattering across a face. This Jack the Ripper is hissing, animalistic beast. As if there was any doubt that the heart of a grungy Canuxploitation flick beat within this classy period piece, the score is partially by Paul Zaza, who would go on to provide similarly sensationalist music to "Prom Night" and "My Bloody Valentine." You'll recognize his bits as sounding suspiciously like the "Jaws" theme.

The cast is thoroughly professional, the film looks great, and Clark engineers some decent thrills within. As a mystery, however, "Murder by Decree" leaves a bit to be desired. Perhaps this is because the script draws from Stephen Knight's "Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution," which presented the widely discredited theory that the murders were the result of a royal, Masonic conspiracy to cover up an illegitimate heir to the throne. I've read "From Hell," so I'm familiar with Knight's theory. Clark's film presents it as an elaborate tangle of cover-ups and hidden information, which Holmes digs into from multiple angles before discovering the killer in the act. The finale of the film is a weirdly uncinematic info dump, where Holmes breaks down everything that happened. As if the film is explaining everything to any audience members who might have missed a scene or two. It's a disappointing resolution, that never builds up much suspense around the murderer's identity. There's a definite theme here of class division, of elites ignoring and disposing of those they deem lower than them. It's an insightful idea that never meshes with a plot that can't make a compelling narrative out of its tangle of secretive leads and numerous subplots.

"Murder by Decree" was a box office success in Canada and won five Genie Awards, including a Best Director statue for Bob Clark. Critical reaction was a bit more mixed, many agreeing with me that the denouncement is underwhelming. In many ways, "Murder by Decree" feels like an attempt to do for Holmes what Richard Donner's "Superman" did for the Man of Steel. (Though on a fraction of the budget.) It brings a reverent and classy approach to pulpy material, filling its cast with master thespians who show off their abilities, while the general tone veers glossy camp at times. For Clark fans, it's definitely worth seeing, if only for the blatant stylistic connections to "Black Christmas." The well orchestrated and tense Ripper scenes will surely appeal to horror fans the most too. Holmes will likely enjoy it without finding it to be an especially clever reinvention, while Ripperologists are unlikely to uncover any new ground here. I liked the film but do wish the script had the verve of the scariest scenes and did better by a cast of experts. If nothing else, it gives us a peek of a future where Clark came to specialize in classy thrillers, rather than the broad comedies that led him down the dispiriting path towards "Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2." [6/10]

Darknet: Darknet 1

Considering it's the only anthology series to make any kind of culture impact in the last fifteen years, I'm surprised we didn't see more attempts to directly emulate "Black Mirror." There have been lots of horror anthology shows on streaming services since then but none that also attempted to combine macabre storytelling with cultural commentary, especially about technology... Except for one, that is. Produced in Canada in 2014, "Darknet" would air for six episodes on Canadian premium channel Super. Fittingly, considering its focus on the internet, the show would also stream on Fox's website before jumping around a number of different services. (As of this writing, U.S. residents can watch it on Peacock.) The series earned some positive reviews, the first episode especially, before slipping totally into obscurity. 

Each episode of "Darknet" tells several intersecting stories, usually in non-linear order, that all link back to a LiveLeaks-style website called Darknet. College student Alison notices strange irregularities in her apartment, like her toilet seat being left up or a sandwich having a bite taken out of it. Terrified, she sets up a camera to record when she's not at home. Meanwhile, fellow student Gord discovers the Darknet website, sarcastically suggesting how a supposed serial killer can dispose of evidence and unknowingly making himself a target. Other sequences feature a man uncovering a key to a strange locker at a train station and an alt-rock teenager with a similar fixation on Darknet. 

Detractors of "Black Mirror" have boiled the show's message down to "cellphone bad." Those critics presumably have not seen "Darknet," which opens its first episode with a scene making that exact point. A snotty teenager is so busy looking at her phone and listening to her blaring, devil music that she doesn't notice the people fleeing around her. Whether you think building a whole segment around "damn kids are on their damn phones too much" is a bit ham-fisted, it is actually a well done sequence. There is something tense about focusing on a character unaware of the danger around them, which the audience can clearly see. That's Hitchcock's basic building blocks of suspense. And, honestly, both an act of mass violence breaking out in a public place and someone being too absorbed in their phone to notice aren't exactly difficult scenarios to believe. 

The problem with "Darknet 1" is how that first scene connects with the rest of the episode. Or, rather, how it doesn't. This is a criticism I've had for features like "Trick 'R' Treat" and "A Christmas Horror Story." Intercutting the episodes in an anthology structure doesn't do anything except inhibit the forward momentum of each story. We don't have time to get invested in one set of characters and their stories because the episode is busy cutting away to something else. The non-linear structure is meant to be a surprise but the audience picks up on it immediately, effectively spoiling the ending of several of the segments. That some stories don't connect directly – the sequence with the train station lockers doesn't link to Alison and Gord's joint plots much at all – can't help but feel frustrating too. 

That "Darknet" saddled itself with such a frustrating structure is disappointing, as the individual stories aren't bad at all. Vincenzo Natali, an expert in Canadian sci-fi/horror, directs this one. You can tell that's the case because David Hewlett stars in the train station segment. As always, Natali is good at engineering a kind of sterile, unnervingly distant tension. Especially in that sequence. Allison's plot isn't quite as well done, if only because it's easier to predict where it's headed, but Michelle Alexander does make for a properly vulnerable heroine. In other words, I probably would've liked this episode a lot more if it wasn't assembled in such an annoying way. That's the way it goes sometimes, I guess. [6/10]

Fisheye (1980)

Riblje oko

This year's theme of international horror has taken me to some interesting, unexpected places. Here's another one. "Fisheye" is an animated horror short from 1980, made in what was then Yugoslavia and would now be Croatia. The men of a seaside village leave their wives and children at home as they set off on a day of fishing. After the last man goes, a blue scaled fish crawls out of the water and into land. He then murders a woman with a trident. This begins a full-scale slaughter of the population of the villages, the fish growing larger and more anthropomorphic with each victim they claim. As the fishermen return with their bounty, they find their homes empty save for the blood and broken glass left behind. 

The central irony in "Fisheye" is easy to spot. The aquatic attackers uses tools of the fishing industry to murder the villagers: Tridents, hooks, oars, and nets. They don't merely kill the women and children but drag their bodies back down into the water afterwards. In case you didn't catch it, the eight minute film ends with the fishermen rowing back home, their nets full of the day's catches. It's tempting to read the siege of the city as a watery act of retribution, the local fish population seeking vengeance on the humans that have killed and devoured them. However, I think it's far more disturbing if you look at it from the perspective of a simple food chain reversal. It's nothing personal, simply business, and the fish probably don't think of the humans they kill as sentient beings. To flip the script on the fishing industry forces us to consider the true cost of what we, people, do to the inhabitants of the ocean. This is probably the meaning of the title: We are seeing things from a fish eye point of view. 

Ecological or vegetarian subtext aside, "Fisheye" is a very creepy little eight minutes. The animation style is primitive but suitably perverse. The faces of the people are scrunched-up little prunes, while the fish have gaping mouths and wide eyes. The movement is ungainly and stiff, providing a further uncanny feeling to the proceedings. The buildings and streets of the village are reduced to crude geometrical shapes, while the camera angles often provide shifting, disorientating views of the chaos. The musical score is discordant and ominous, creating a sense of unease even before the fishy massacre begins. Recalling the works of Lovecraft and proceeding Junji Ito's similarly themed "Gyo," "Fisheye" is a surprisingly creepy dose of aquatic horror. [8/10]

Halloween 2023: October 13th

The Exorcist: Believer (2023)

There hasn't been an “Exorcist” movie since 2005 and there hasn't been an especially successful “Exorcist” movie since 1973. Yet, with the fiftieth anniversary looming, it's not surprising that someone would decide to revive the possession saga. The path forward with this new iteration has been especially obvious. Universal paid big bucks to acquire the franchise rights. They partnered with Blumhouse and David Gordon Green was immediately given the reins to the series, coming right off the success of his “Halloween” trilogy. In fact, it really seemed like the idea was to do something very similar here, including inviting back a face from the original film for a new story.  No word on whether “The Exorcist: Believer” disregards the events of “Exorcist II: The Heretic” or “Exorcist III.” The legacy sequel opened to middling reviews earlier this month but that wasn't going to stop me from seeing it. 

In Haiti, photographer Victor Fielding and his pregnant wife are caught in an earthquake. She dies in childbirth but the baby lives. 13 years later, Angela is now a precocious teenager, eager to learn more about her late mother. She sneaks off with her best friend, Katherine, one night to go into the forest and perform a séance. The two girls then vanish, panicking their parents. Three days later, they are found, with no memory of their disappearance and burned feet. Soon, the girls begin to act strangely, their behavior escalating to disturbing heights. Katherine's highly religious family are convinced their daughter is possessed. Victor, an atheist, is skeptical. Yet reading a book written by Chris McNeil, about her daughter being possessed and the subsequent exorcism, convinces him to track McNeil down and ask for her help. Soon, a group of leaders from different faiths are brought in to save Angela and Katherine's souls from the grip of evil. 

For whatever it's worth, “The Exorcist: Believer” has a decent first act. The opening in Haiti blatantly recalls the original Iraq-set prologue. Once that passes, the film is allowed to do its own thing for a while. Victor and Angela's relationship is nicely established. He loves her daughter, she's close to her dad. The death of their mother still looms over them both, Angela doing what she can to reconnect with a topic her father is clearly still processing. “Believer” doesn't pile on the jump scares or cheap shocks too much in its first forty minutes, taking time to establish Victor as a conflicted protagonist. Once the girls disappear, and the different parents are tossed together in a panicked search, I was actually kind of feeling this one. I was genuinely intrigued to see where it might be going.

Where it was going, perhaps inevitably, is a fairly pale imitation of the original. Unlike some people, I have nothing against David Gordon Green. I was one of the few folks who loved “Halloween Ends.” Yet the simple truth is he's not as good of a director as the late, great William Friedkin. I mean, how many people are? So many of Friedkin's films have a genuine unhinged quality to them, a sense of real danger, that Green was never going to capture. This becomes abundantly clear once “Believer” starts going for scares. Most of the possessed girl business in this sequel are uninspired rehashes. The girls gain scarred up bodies and faces. They swear inappropriately, bleeding from various orifices, while demon faces will flash on-screen briefly. Once the actual exorcism begins in the last third, there really isn't anything too exciting happening. At least the sequel holds off on the levitation and projectile vomiting as long as possible. The same can't be said for the prominent use of a silver crucifix, which is easily “Believer's” most stilted and embarrassing moment. 

Yet a lack of fresh scares is not even the biggest problem with “Believer.” The truth is the sequel simply doesn't have the complexity of the original. “The Exorcist” is a movie about faith really being tested. It's about the question of good and evil, how it resides in us, and whether anything can be done to challenge it. Notably, the exorcism in the original doesn't actually work and a noble man making a sacrifice is what actually makes a difference. Even then, there is a question of ambiguity in the air, of what driving the devil out of this girl has actually cost. “Believer,” meanwhile, goes with a much simpler message about religious solidarity. Katherine's parents are Southern Baptists. The nurse, who was almost a nun, that assist Victor is Catholic and gets a priest involved. His next door neighbor is Pentecostal, while a local hoodoo practitioner is the main driving force during the exorcism. A rather loaded monologue points out that, though all these faiths are different, they all believe in the power of good, that people can make a difference.

Honestly, I don't think this is an especially compelling angle. “The Exorcist” reflected the crisis of faith in the early seventies, when traditional religion was playing less of an important role in a modern, more cynical world. 2023 is a totally different time, when mass religion has been commercialized by prosperity doctrine shit-heads and weaponized by the right-wing outrage machine in a way that's certainly not new but definitely seriously insidious. How are we suppose to take a film with a heroic Catholic priest seriously in a world were the church's dirtiest secret is public knowledge? If the film is so concerned with a multicultural angle, why are all its represented religious faiths Christian denominations? Why wasn't a Rabbi or Muslim imam consulted? An ultimately feel-good message about how what unites us is stronger than what divides us, and that faith is essential across all belief systems, seems like a limp reflection of what “The Exorcist” is actually about.

Then again, it's not like an “Exorcist” sequel being disappointing or failing to live up to the original is anything new. It's actually standard practice for this franchise. At least “Believer” has a decent cast. Leslie Odom Jr. clearly invested some emotional depth as Victor. Lidya Jewell and Olivia O'Neill are convincing as peppy teenage girls, even if their demonic contortions feel uninspired. It's nice to see Ann Dowd as the attending nurse. Really, the only cast member who truly phones it in is the most hyped one. Ellen Burstyn doesn't seem especially interested to be here. She gets some of the sequel's most awkward, ungainly dialogue. Considering Chris McNeil repeatedly says she's not an exorcist, before attempting to perform an exorcism, you kind of have to wonder why she's in this story at all. 

But the answer to that question is obvious. “Believer” wouldn't be a real legacy sequel if it didn't have someone from the original film in the cast. The most obvious surviving cast member from the original is saved for the last-minute cameo, plot points floating around her clearly being reserved for a perspective sequel. (Which may or may not come to pass, now that this one opened softly.) “Believer” isn't terrible, like many have reported. It certainly doesn't hit the low point of “The Beginning.” Yet it is, at worst, unambitious and lacking in complexity. Say what you will about “The Heretic,” at least it had a lot of ideas on its mind. I'm sure William Friedkin would've hated it but I don't think the sequel deserves that much scorn. It's not that interesting. “Believer” ultimately plays things too safe, recycling old scares and refusing to engage with its ideas in any real way. [5/10] 

13 Frightened Girls (1963)

In Joe Dante's frequently overlooked gem “Matinee,” there's a scene where Lawrence Woolsey – a stand-in for king of gimmick horror, William Castle – is mistaken for Alfred Hitchcock. This, no doubt, references Castle's evident desire to be the American answer to Hitchcock. “Homicidal” was clearly inspired by “Psycho,” “Strait Jacket” featured a script from “Psycho” scribe Robert Bloch, and “I Saw What You Did” turned the famous shower scene on its head. Another attempt by Castle to emulate Hitch was 1963's “13 Frightened Girls,” which obviously drew inspiration from the Master of Suspense's many espionage thrillers. It's kind of like if “The 39 Steps” starred a bunch of teenage girls. And the film is just macabre enough to sneak into a horror marathon...

“13 Frightened Girls” is set at an exclusive school for diplomat's daughters, girls from all over the world gathered together in this one place. One such teenager is Candice Hull. Nicknamed Candy, she harbors an unrequited crush on Wally Sanders, a CIA agent and a friend of her father's. Wally is not an especially successful spy and is potentially facing termination from his job. Candy takes it upon herself to save Wally's employment. She begins to spy on the fathers and uncles of her classmates, mailing the tips to Wally under the code name “Kitten.” She soon uncovers a deadly Red China communist plot and earns the wrath of a master spy known only as “Spider.” Spider is the one who kidnaps Candy and twelve of her classmates.

Much like the original “Star Trek,” “13 Frightened Girls” represents one of those well-intentioned but somewhat misguided sixties attempts to showcase global diversity. On paper, the idea of a movie centering around characters from thirteen different countries is a great chance to showcase other cultures. Yet the film doesn't give much screen time to the majority of these girls. When they do, they are depicted more-or-less as stereotypes. The Russian girl is loudly proud of her Soviet strength. The Argentinean girl is a fiery Latina. The French girl is haughty. The Japanese girl is accompanied by a distinctive musical motif. You can guess the one. I suppose having Mai-Ling the Chinese girl, played by Lynne Sue Moon, be Candy's best friend was pretty bold in 1963. (She wears a qipao, of course.) Yet that's negated somewhat by Chinese agents being the main antagonists of the film. 

Ultimately, most of the thirteen girls mentioned in the title aren't developed much beyond their accents. The majority of them are only identified by their countries of origin. Instead, “13 Frightened Girls” is mostly focused on Candy, her attempts to win Wally's approval, and her missions in the world of espionage. The latter is portrayed in a largely episodic fashion, such as in a mostly disconnected sequence where she brushes up to a Dutch diplomat. The former, meanwhile, is quite uncomfortable. Wally, played with a weaselly Murray Hamilton, has an age-appropriate love interest and shows no romantic interest in the teenage girl. Yet it is a little weird that a movie about a sixteen year old girl so obsessed with an adult man, to the point that she risks her own life to prove her love, doesn't make it clear that this is a hopeless infatuation for her. 

You might be reading this review and asking why am I discussing this film for a Halloween marathon. None of this sounds like a horror movie, right? “13 Frightened Girls'” marketing played up the spider connection and the girls in peril, probably because William Castle's earlier hits were horror. Yet the actual movie is on the marginal side of the genre. The opening sequence features a fun shock, of a tarantula crawling over a bus windshield. As Candy explores the mansion of Mai-Ling's family, she sneaks through a cobweb-strewn secret passageway. She discovers a dead body hanging over her head and there's a few more corpses later on in the film. Castle's film does generate a little bit of tension, largely because Kathy Dunn makes Candy a likable heroine that runs into danger throughout the story. Yet the tone largely remains light-hearted, often causing “13 Frightened Girls” to feel a little like the Disney version of a Hitchcock thriller. 

Being a William Castle film, “13 Frightened Girls” was accompanied by a gimmick. In this case, an amusing publicity stunt: A casting call was announced to locate the thirteen titular girls from each of their corresponding countries. Maybe not as memorable as skeletons flying through the theater or joy-buzzers in the theater seats but a neat idea. And one that was ultimately not fulfilled, as the Liberian girl was played by an American actress. Anyway, “13 Frightened Girls” mildly entertains during its brief runtime. A montage of “Kitten's” letters, set to images of a little white kitty walking around a globe, made me chuckle. Yet it definitely ranks among the more minor of Castle's films. [6/10]

Amazing Stories: Remote Control Man

“Amazing Stories” was an attempt by Steven Spielberg to bring theatrical quality to network TV. Many episodes were directed by noteworthy filmmakers. Spielberg himself made two. Other notable names include Scorsese, Dante, Zemecksis, Eastwood, and even Burt Reynolds. I don't know if Bob Clark was ever as respected as those guys but he's a cult favorite in his own right. Clark would direct the tenth episode of the series, “Remote Control Man.” It follows Walter Poindexter, an accountant with a hateful wife and two garbage sons. His sole escape is television. After his wife sells the TV, he is pressured by otherworldly salesmen into purchasing a high-tech new set. He soon discovers that he can replace the people in his mundane life with characters from his favorite programs. Yet this dream scenario soon turns into a nightmare.

Despite its high production values and talented directors, “Amazing Stories” veered towards whimsy too often. Unfortunately, “Remote Control Man” resembles Bob Clark's comedies far more than “Black Christmas.” From its opening minutes, a tone of shrill humor is established. Sydney Lassick – a character actor who had a great career but I probably most recognize as the loud-mouthed sheriff from “Silent Madness” – plays Walter as a sweaty loser. His wife immediately screams at him. His youngest son tries to grind his dad's hand off in the garbage disposal. His oldest son is a Hare Krishna, that frequent target of scorn in low-brow eighties comedies. Walter has to contend with a group of rabid dogs every time he steps out the door, even creating an elaborate dummy to fool them. Most obnoxiously, nobody ever takes his side. Even a random old woman on the street is mean to him. The universe exists to shit on this guy.

All of this is before “Remote Control Man's” main gimmick comes into play. That would be Walter transporting well-known TV personalities into his living room. This makes “Remote Control Man” a delivery system for then-relevant pop culture references. That means Gary Coleman, June Cleaver, and Dirk Benedict as Face all have prominent roles. Before the end, Richard Simmons, Ed McMahon, Jim Lange, LaWanda Page, K.I.T.T., and the Incredible Hulk (played by Body by Jake, not Lou Ferrigno) also show up. The significance of any of these characters is not established, the program assuming the audience must be familiar with them. I guess the makers of “Remote Control Man” didn't anticipate anyone watching it forty years later. I bet most of the jokes here would play as total non-sequiturs to a zoomer.

The humor is largely obnoxious, heavy on the screaming and physical battering. It's all so cartoonish, reflecting a truly hateful perception of people and the world. Of course, Walter gets to sleep with a empty-headed supermodel too, presenting this whole thing as a very ugly fantasy. Shit like this reminds me that Bob Clark also made the “Porky's” movies and “Baby Geniuses.” The story wraps up with an obvious twist ending and a moral – appreciate those you have and don't watch so much TV! – that is completely unearned. Especially considering that Walter's family is genuinely awful. Among the many cameos are also Professor Toru Tanaka and Sid Haig, though they aren't playing any famous characters. This is definitely an example of a story that's far from amazing... [4/10]

The Munsters: Herman's Lawsuit / A Visit from the Teacher

“The Munsters” remained popular throughout its second season but rating took a nose-dive after “Batman” debuted opposite the show. You'd never know the end was neigh from the last two episodes though. “Herman's Lawsuit” and “A Visit from the Teacher” are typical installments. While out on a walk, Herman crosses a street and is struck by a car. Naturally, the car is much worse for wear than he is afterwards. The woman's lawyer talks him into suing the family for repairs. This sends Herman into a panic, causing him to run away from home. “A Visit from the Teacher” has Eddie writing about his family for a school project. His teachers naturally assume that the boy's claims are wild fantasies, prompting a visit to 1313 Mockingbird Lane from the faculty. Of course, they are in for a surprise.

“Herman's Lawsuit” is one of those episodes of “The Munsters” that starts in one place before digressing into an even wilder place. By the end, we are greeted to a montage of Herman working all sorts of odd jobs. Such as a dock worker, a target in a carnival game, and seemingly joining the Foreign Legion. Which sets up an even stranger reveal at the end. This provides the kind of seriously wacky sight gags you expect from this series. Some more subtle jokes about Herman's other jobs – such as his stay at a morgue – made me laugh harder though. The interaction between Herman and the car wreck is probably most notable for the way Fred Gwynne's hair piece flops of his head as he falls down. There's also a surprisingly dark gag where the raven in the family clock tries to help the dad shoot himself.

“A Visit from the Teacher” is naturally built around normal people reacting to the Munsters' macabre appearances. At least it goes about it in a more restrained way than you'd expect. The principal and Eddie's teacher are slowly given a taste of the family, Herman's face even being kept in the dark thanks to a freak black-out. It's a better approach than going right to the exaggerated screaming and fleeing that we usually get. Most of the wackier gags come from Grandpa's attempts to generate electricity, causing the household appliances to go nuts. The final joke of the episode – and, in turn, the entire series – sees Herman sitting down to eat his breakfast as Grandpa causes water to explode from all the house's pipes. Certainly an inauspicious but representative way for the show to go out. [Herman's Lawsuit: 6/10 / A Visit from the Teacher: 6/10]

Even though “The Munsters” would only run for two seasons, its cultural legacy is greater than that implies. It says a lot that this two season show was still running in syndication thirty years later, when I saw it as a kid. There have been multiple attempts to revive it over the years: A reunion special, a late eighties revival that actually ran for three episodes longer than the original, two TV movies in the nineties. I thought Bryan Fuller's one-and-done pilot had a lot of potential. That Universal allowed Rob Zombie to make his glorified fan film last year suggests the “Munsters” brand still has some life in it, nearly sixty years after the fact. I gotta say, I enjoyed watching my way through this cheesy old sitcom. “The Munsters” remains a comfy, goofy program for this overgrown monster kid. I guess I've got to start watching “The Addams Family” next year?