Halloween 2026: September 26th

Resident Evil (2026)

After the surprise critical and commercial success of "Barbarian," people were ready to declare former Whitest Kid U' Know Zach Cregger the next great horror director. I always have a "wait and see" attitude with these kinds of things. "Weapons" proved that Cregger is a distinctive voice in the genre, willing to tackle big ideas without sacrificing thrills and hollers. I was disappointed to hear that his next project would be an adaptation of a mega-popular, long-running video game series. "Resident Evil" has already spawned somewhere between seven and twelve feature films. There had already been a new movie and streaming series, after Paul W.S. Anderson and Milla Jovovich moved on to ruin another Capcom video game, and the response was unenthusiastic. Were we losing a bold new voice in the genre to the franchise machine? Or was this an example of an auteur leaping onto a familiar property because he was genuinely a huge fan? Well, the movie is out now so it is time to decide. 

Bryan is a simple medical courier. He makes one more delivery for the night before heading home to his newly pregnant girlfriend, the two uncertain about whether to keep the fetus. While at the hospital, he's asked to take on another rush delivery. He's promised a bonus to deliver an insulated package to Raccoon City General Hospital. It's snowing and the roads are perilous but he takes on the mission anyway. While driving the back roads, a strange woman walks in front of his car and is struck. This is the first sign that something crazy is going on. Bryan has unwittingly been chosen to deliver part of an anti-virus that can stop an unleashed bio-weapon in the process of ravaging the world. 

When the first trailer for Cregger's "Resident Evil" came out, and fans didn't see Jill Valentine tank-controlling through Spencer Mansion, there was some outcry. Indeed, Cregger's film is not an adaptation of any of the games and features none of the franchise's reoccurring characters. While a Rebecca Chambers cameo would've been nice, this approach allows for something clever. Cregger is more interested in adapting the experience of playing a "Resident Evil" game than any specific plot. Our protagonist is exploring environments he's unfamiliar with, with no idea what kind of threat might be around the next corner. When Bryan gets a hold of a firearm, he must carefully conserve ammunition. His journey is repeatedly thwarted by padlocks he doesn't have keys for. The focus is on what choices he'll make with the resources available to him in risky situations. We see evidence of past events that had happened in these locations, hints at other stories playing out in this world, but that's not the tale this "Resident Evil" is telling. As in most games, we are stuck with this guy, on this adventure, as he tries to survive it. 

It's an interesting approach to a big problem often facing video game movies. Namely, the vastly different pacing needs of each medium. Cinema is telling you a story, while gaming is about you enacting that story or experience. Most games keep things novel and challenging by throwing new enemies or puzzles at the player, the kind of perpetual escalation that film can't usually support. By attaching solely to one guy's trek, Cregger hopes to emulate that structure while still making "Resident Evil" feel like a movie. Bryan is repeatedly running through new areas with obstacles unique to them. The longer "Resident Evil" goes on, the more this approach strains. He crawls down into a sewer and sees some freaky shit about to attack him. A run through a city street is hastened by zombies falling from the rooftops. By the time he's clinging onto an elevator slowly being chipped away by acid from overhead, "Resident Evil's" attempt to latch a video game's framework to the flow of a motion picture is clearly favoring one style over the other. 

You never want your movie to feel like a YouTube play through video. Cregger's film comes dangerously close to that territory at times. However, if this "Resident Evil" is mostly just one set piece after another, it must be said that they are good set pieces. The film is successful at deploying a new bit of freaky body horror in such a way as to shock, surprise, and freak out the viewer. Another element taken right from the games is the hero perpetually being pursued by the same unstoppable monster throughout: A tentacled parasite always adding more victims to a Katamari Damacy of flailing limbs. This keeps tension up throughout, balancing a fear of what's coming up behind you with what you might face ahead. That's best shown during a fabulous freak show in a hospital maternity ward and a sequence where Bryan must choose between an incoming horde of zombies and an extremely perilous bridge. "Resident Evil" takes the tricks from the games and applies them to the task of making a scary monster movie. It's mostly pretty successful. 

Cregger's film is often cheeky about what it's doing. There's a few shots clearly emulating the perspective of a first-person shooter. The script outright acknowledges that real life doesn't work like a video game. The film definitely seems to be asking us what we would do in these situations – the best of which involves a dismembered torso being dragged further into the darkness – if the controller was in our hands. That question of "How would you do it?" is furthered by the film's hero not being a highly trained special agent or super-powered zombie killer. Instead, Bryan is just a guy, pasty and stubbly and in way over his head. He has no expertise with guns, a good running joke. His only extraordinary quality is his sheer determination to keep moving forward, of staying focused on that mission of delivering this package. Star Zach Cherry doesn't play this as indomitable courage. Instead, it feels a bit like Bryan is too stupid to know that he doesn't have to run towards danger. It's a funny way to approach your horror movie hero, someone so laser focused on simply doing their job that they accidentally become brave. I guess this kid really needs that extra paycheck. Don't we all? 

An emotional through line focusing more on how we're all trapped in the hellscape of late stage capitalism would probably be more involving than the standard subplot about Bryan's girlfriend and possible future child. Every scene devoted to that truly feels like the movie stopping to say "This is a poignant, thematically relevant moment." "Barbarian" and "Weapons" had a similar bluntness about their ideas, so I suppose this is a trademark of Cregger's. His "Resident Evil" doesn't always nail its goal of blending a video game's anatomy with a film's direction. It is still a fun time at the movies. The lead is likable. The thrills hit. The monsters are freaky. There's a bunch of blood, slime, gunk, and grime. The ending is surprising. I would call that a success. [7/10]

Shake, Rattle & Roll (1984)

If you were to perform an internet search for the horror film series with the most installments – or, god forbid, ask an LLM – the answer you’d get would probably be wrong. Seventeen “Witchcraft” movies and fifteen or so “Puppet Master” films are certainly achievements of some sort. If one were to tally up all the movies with “Amityville” in the title, which I hesitate to call a “series” exactly, the number would surely be staggering. Such view points are distressingly English language centric, however. A look to Asia reveals several fear franchises that dwarf most American long-runners. A 1997 Hong Kong film called “Troublesome Night” has spawned 19 sequels. Another contender is “Shake, Rattle & Roll.” That is a Filipino anthology series that began in 1984, with the seventeenth and most recent installment having been released just last year. The stories are often inspired by the Philippines’ rich local folklore, with new installments usually coming around Christmas time. It would seem trying to run the entire series every December is an annual tradition among Pinoy horror fans. While the films remain frustratingly unavailable in my corner of the world, I was able to find a copy of the original with English subtitles.

“Shake, Rattle & Roll” begin with “Baso.” Paolo, his partner Girlie, and their mutual friend Johnny gather in a spooky old house to play Spirit of the Glass. That’s an Ouija-like game of divination performed with a scroll of paper and a drinking glass. They unwittingly summon the restless spirits of three people, trapped in a love triangle, who died during the Spanish colonial era. In “Pridyider,” Lorna and her daughter Virgie move into a home that includes a fancy new refrigerator. Maid Nelia is seemingly crushed to death by the refrigerator's door. This is the first of several bizarre incidents involving the appliance. “Manananggal” is about Douglas, a lad living with his grandmother and younger brothers in the Visayan jungles. He is attempting to court Anita, despite his granny’s warnings that she’s a manananggal. Upon seeing Anita separate her upper body from her waist and flying through the night with bat wings, he realizes that this is true.

Of the three stories presented here, “Baso” is both the most traditional and the driest. Young people sneaking into an old dark house to perform a ghostly ritual is about as classical a horror set-up as possible. The darkly lit scenes of the glass slowly spelling out names is well-done. Unfortunately, after that, the segment launches into a long flashback that explains the backstory of the spectral love triangles. The period costumes and details are decently assembled but it still feels more like a historical soap opera than a horror movie. The eventual shift back to the gruesome stuff is hampered a bit by some unconvincing make-up effects. There is still a shock ending of sorts, though the episode concludes so abruptly afterwards that I’m not sure it sinks in exactly. Director Emmanuel H. Borlaza is best known for a romantic fantasy about a mermaid, which might explain why this first story seems to shy away from horror at times. 

The second episode has to overcome what is a silly premise on its face. Refrigerators are not especially mobile devices, nor do they present many options as a murder weapon. “Pridyider” seems somewhat aware of this and attempts to derive horror from visions of dismembered body parts around the fridge instead. Once again, the effects are a bit rubbery, which does little to dispel the notion of goofiness around this one. However, director Ishmael Bernal and cinematographer Ely R. Cruz take the material seriously. “Pridyider” is shot with a patient, quiet intimacy and eroticism, as if the heat coming off the vents of the fridge is making everyone around it hot. When the absurd finale arrives, in which the household appliance seems to develop a sense of lust, it actually feels like a logical extension of the segment’s style up to that point. It makes for an unexpectedly intense finale, despite how difficult it is to take the premise seriously. 

The “Manananggal” sequence is a straight-ahead monster movie and effectively so. There’s a thread of quiet absurdity here too. The events take place during Holy Week, Douglas being accosted by several guys dressed for a passion play. Otherwise, director Peque Gallaga mostly plays the folk tale straight. In its human form, the manananggal is an alluring, exotic presence. The only way to destroy it is to salt and bless the lower half of the body as the vampiric half flies into the night. The first crow of the cock at dawn draws the monster back to its source. The isolation of the jungle setting creates a nicely eerie mood, further emphasized by the shadowy visuals. The segment becomes a siege story in the second half, the family attempting to prevent the winged creature from breaking through the thin walls of their hut. Unlike the other parts of “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” “Manananggal” smartly shoots around the film’s limited budget. There’s only one shot of the titular monster taking flight, conveyed through some awkward animation. Otherwise, the scenes are carefully framed to obscure the lower half of the segmented beast. This surprisingly does little to decrease its threat value. “Manananggal” is a fairly potent mini-monster movie.  

The main reason I’ve decided to seek out international horror movies is to expose myself to other cultures. As horror often does, “Shake, Rattle & Roll” is obviously reflecting the social mores of the country that birthed it. “Baso” is a story about how violence and class separation are reoccurring patterns throughout Filipino history, as it is in history everywhere. “Pridyider” seems especially focused on the plight of young women, at the mercy of predatory men. The possessed fridge seems to act on the most violent impulses of the perverted groundskeeper or Virgie’s handsy boyfriend. Director Bernal seems mostly known for his social dramas, often focused on the struggles of women in Manila, making this angle unsurprising. While “Mananangal” is largely a straight-ahead adaptation of the folklore that birthed it, it’s speaking to social issues as well. Douglas and his family are practicing Christians, often praying to a small religious alter. The eponymous monster is a symbol of native paganism, linked to lust and mystery. This makes the story an encapsulation of the conflict between the Philippines’ extremely Christian modern existence and its still lingering shamanistic roots.

Out of the three directors who worked on this first “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” Gallaga is also the only one who would extensively return to horror later in his career. He contributed segments to the next three entries in the series and made a few other monster movies, also inspired by the Philippines’ rich history of legendary creatures. (Though he worked in a variety of genres, including historical war epic, erotica, and light-hearted fantasy.) In other words, “Shake, Rattle & Roll” is both extremely Filipino and fairly entertaining in its own right. The most restored edition of the film still has some visually degraded moments and the ending of “Pridyider” is lost, making that segment’s conclusion very abrupt as well. While campy and goofy at times, the presentation won me over long before the end. I don’t know if that’s enough to build sixteen sequels on but I liked it. By the way, as far as I can tell, the actual answer to the question of which horror franchise has the most installments is “Honto ni Atta! Noroi No Video.” That’s a direct-to-video Japanese series, compilations of spooky footage, with somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 installments. “Shake, Rattle & Roll” isn’t that populous but I did have a good time with it. I guess, if I keep doing a global theme for my Halloween marathons, I’ve got a Filipino pick settled for the next sixteen years… [7/10]

The Twilight Zone (1985): The Toys of Caliban

Before "A Song of Ice and Fire" made him a literary superstar, George R.R. Martin was a humble science fiction and horror writer, struggling to make a living. After one of his earlier novellas received a low budget adaptation, Martin found a contact with the film world. That's how he got a regular gig writing for the 1985 revival of "The Twilight Zone." He provided teleplays for five episodes, mostly in the second season, and the best regarded of the lot seems to be "Toys of Caliban." It concerns Toby Ross, a boy with a developmental disability. He is seemingly in his late teens but with the mentality of a toddler. His elderly parents, Ernie and Mary, isolate the boy from the world within their apartment full of toys. This is because Toby has the ability to "bring" – physically manifest – any object he sees in a photograph into the home. Any attempt by Toby to manifest living creatures only results in corpses appearing. His parents are fearful of what his powers could do with any more exposure. After "bringing" too many donuts one night and getting a serious tummy ache, Toby's parents are forced to take him to the emergency room. The boy is fine but he catches the attention of a Child Protective Services agent who believes Toby is being abused. This brief glimpse of the outside world has tragic consequences for the family. 

Once again, this autistic adult is forced to tango with one of my least favorite writing tropes, the inelegantly named "Magical Disabled Person." I would prefer to use another word for it but understand that some are offended by the term, even if I'm not. This episode is not so generous and refers to Toby as a word that rhymes with leotard several times. Yes, "Toys of Caliban" is another offering that portrays neurodivergent individuals in a patronizing, dehumanizing manner. Toby's parents are depicted as the ones who are suffering, while their overgrown infant of a son lives in a world of blissful ignorance. He is so dangerous that they have no recourse but to lock him away forever. Alexandre Borrie's CPS agent points out that resources and classes the elderly Rosses might be unfamiliar with are available to help their son. Toby's dad knows better and insists the kid stay in a windowless home forever. This is still not enough to protect the family and the final scene of "Toys of Caliban" offers a frankly offensive solution. The poor, pathetic simpleton, the only way out for them and their beleaguered N.T. sires is to put them all down like a sick dog. (The penultimate scene has the dad rubbing Toby's head as he kneels at his feet and calling him a "good boy," making the dog comparison fairly literal.) 

The resulting episode is often cringe-inducing. David Greenlee's blubbering performance as Toby reaches "Simple Jack" levels immediately. I'm pretty sure his jubilant but agonized cries of his own name must have been an inspiration for "South Park's" Timmy. It's difficult to look at "Toys of Caliban" as anything but an embarrassing misfire from another era, using the difficulties functional human beings live with because their brain chemistry or bodies are a little different from the majority as nothing but a gimmick to lure tears out of weepy viewers. And it's a bummer too, because I think this episode could've worked without making Toby a regressive stereotype. One of the most famous episodes of the original "Twilight Zone" features a youngster with unfathomable psychic powers and it accurately observes that a regular kid is scary enough without making them "special." 

Richard Mulligan gives a good performance as an exhausted, heart-broken father and Anne Haney has a sad fragility about her as the mother. (Even if her big monologue essentially boils down to, once again, how hard Toby's condition is on his parents.) There's two decent shocks in this episode, when Toby's literalness results in him teleporting two bits of fleshy horror into the home. However, , it's difficult to regard "Toys of Caliban" with anything but aghast grimaces and bemused bafflement that such a hilariously insensitive portrayal was ever acceptable. I don't hold it against George R.R. Martin though. All writers gotta eat, even if it means turning someone else's horrible story into a coherent screenplay. [3/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Electrocutioner

The seventeenth episode of "Friday the 13th: The Series" does not feature a C-list Batman villain. Instead, it's an entry into the eighties' most minor of horror trends: Stories about murderers who return from a sit in the electric chair to kill again, sometimes with electricity-themed superpowers. The condemned is Eli Pittman, a dental student wrongfully convicted of murdering his girlfriend in 1978. Despite getting two jolts in Ol' Sparky, Pittman survives. Since you can't legally execute someone for the same crime twice, he is set free apparently. (I'm not a lawyer but wouldn't they be able to further detain him for the standing murder conviction?) A decade later, Pittman has reinvented himself as a dentist in a halfway house for troubled teens. He's held onto the electric chair intended to kill him, actually one of Lewis Vendredi's cursed artifacts. Now, Pittman shocks orphaned teens no one will miss in the chair and, in return, gets electric shock powers. He's using those to seek vengeance on all who convicted him. Micki, Ryan, and Jack are on the case. 

"The Electrocutioner" was written and directed by Rob Hedden. Presumably, it was this episode that convinced Frank Mancuso Jr. that Hedden was the right man to make "Friday the 13th Part VIII." "Jason Takes Manhattan" is probably my least favorite film in the series and it's largely because of the  melodramatic direction, childish screenplay, and a tone indecisively placed between self-aware camp and ostensibly a serious attempt at horror. All of these flaws are apparent here. The episode starts with a fairly well done flashback to Pittman's execution, which is shot in grainy black-and-white and features some stylized camera angles. However, as the execution attempt begins, Pittman screams towards the heavens. This is the first of many very silly touches in the episode. Any time Pittman plots his revenge, we return to that flashback, now presented as everyone pointing and laughing at him. One shot has his screaming face superimposed on the image, a very cheesy looking choice. All of the murder scenes are made laughable because the actors playing the victims make goofy faces as they contort around. There's also an inexplicable jump scare involving a plume of steam shooting out of a wall, a gag I'm pretty sure Hedden repeated in his Jason movie. 

This approach, either deeply un-serious or miscalculated, is evident in Hedden's script too. The story bends in some odd directions. Every time Pittman kills a runaway teen in his chair, they are reduced to a pile of steaming clothes. That's weird. Why does that happen? Later, Jack hunts the killer down by magnifying a needle and making a compass with it, to track Pittman's electric charge. Was this Mr. Wizard moment truly the smoothest way to get to that plot point? In general, the central trio act rather broad in this episode. Ryan is introduced playing with a glow orb while listening to shitty rock music, a story beat that comes back around for a lame joke in the last scene. Micki is treated like a genius fir suggesting that more people were responsible for an execution order than those simply shown in a photograph. 

The half-assed, senseless quality to the writing is most clearly seen in the villain. Angelo Rizacos plays the dentist-turned-electrocutioner and it's a hammy performance. He looks like "Weird" Al and generally acts like a nerd, which is not the most intimidating of choices. Mostly, I'm baffled by the decision to make the villain both wrongfully convicted and a remorseless killer. The way he callously kills random teenagers is obviously a writing choice to void any sympathy the audience might feel towards him. I guess Pittman was only pissed because he was charged with a crime he didn't do, not by the concept of murder itself. Those visions of being laughed at and persecuted are clearly designed to make him look unhinged. I get why he would be pissed but, also, he survived execution and was let go. He even got superpowers out of the deal! Kind of makes you wonder what is driving his need for vengeance. Is the implication that the cursed electric chair – which he makes no attempt to disguise as his dental chair, something you'd think his regular clients would comment on – has driven him mad? But it's not like he was willingly placed in the chair in the first place either. I did like the ironic, final fate of the villain. Hedden does have one or two interesting ideas but this episode is, overall, very silly and juvenile. I'm going to presume that it was not Hedden's creative skills that impressed Mancuso but some quality – his ability to shoot fast and cheap? His personality? His soft and moist lips? – not apparent in that episode itself that got him the feature gig. [4/10]

Halloween 2026: September 22nd

Iron Lung (2026)

Up until very recently, I had no idea what a "Markiplier" was. I had seen the name bandied about in discussions of popular YouTubers and LetsPlayers. However, I don't find watching other people play video games to be that interesting so never investigated further. When I started to see buzz over "Iron Lung," a movie this Markiplier fella had made, I assumed it would be another sloppy vanity project by a random internet celebrity with little actual talent. When "Iron Lung's" release approached earlier this year, the director/writer/star's extensive fan base launched a campaign to expand the initial planned distribution of only 60 theaters to as many as possible. "Iron Lung" would instead play in over 4000 American theaters, a wide release by any estimation, and become a surprise box office hit. A genuine grass roots, independent success like that certainly caught my attention. Then some folks whose opinions I trust stated the movie was actually good too. Once I learned the claim that the film broke the record for most fake blood used in any horror picture was apparently legitimate I had to see it, to maintain genre nerd cred or something. Also my wife wanted to watch it so here we go, diving into "Iron Lung."

In addition to my ignorance about the film's star, I am also unfamiliar with the indie video game it is an adaptation of. This is my best estimation of the plot of "Iron Lung," as far as I could parse it: The story is set in the far future, after mankind has colonized space. Furthermore, it's set after a mysterious apocalypse known as the Quiet Rapture has wiped out most of humanity. On an alien moon covered with a sea of blood, a lone convict has been tasked with piloting a rickety submarine into the red depths. He receives orders from officials above, who are directing him to snap photographs of the ocean floor. It seems he is expected to find something, though is not told what exactly. What he does seem to find is a massive skeleton of an unknown alien life form. If he retrieves part of the bones and brings it to the surface, he'll supposedly be granted his freedom. As the journey goes on, we learn more about the pilot's backstory, the events surrounding the Quiet Rapture, more details about this mission, and that the apparent "skeleton" is actually very much alive. 

Being in unknown territory here myself, I can't truly rate "Iron Lung" as a take on an obscure, lore-heavy video game nor as "the Markiplier movie." However, I am pretty familiar with single location horror films. Considering the popularity of the enclosed space thriller, I'm surprised nobody has tried to make a movie set aboard a tiny submarine before. Certain recent events have shown how perilous such a journey is and it seems like a premise ripe with horror. In that regard, I think "Iron Lung" does a good job. The title comes from the nickname for the sub. It's a fitting description of a cramped, purely industrial vehicle filled with low-tech meters, clunky controls, analog monitors, and glowing buttons. The protagonist's only link to the surface world is a shitty radio speaker. His only peek at what's around him are the flashes captured by that giant x-ray camera, which provide vague hints at best. Save for a few flashbacks, "Iron Lung" rarely leaves this setting. Meaning the viewer is trapped in here too, with only slightly less context than the pilot. The danger becomes apparent immediately, as mechanical warnings hint at a limited oxygen supply and the overall rough quality of the submarine seems destined to fail at any point. Deep sea diving is scary to begin with. "Iron Lung" further ups the stakes by making the dive into a sea of blood, upon an unstable world, aboard a vessel clearly made from whatever materials were available. I don't think the script had to include a Lovecraftian eldritch abomination or the fate of the human race beyond that but it shows "Iron Lung's" commitment to being a claustrophobic horror experience. 

That commitment doesn't mean much if we don't care about the hero or the story though. Alright, so how does this Markiplier guy do as a filmmaker and actor? "Iron Lung" is well shot. Cinematographer Philip Roy manages to make the small space cinematic, without sacrificing how uncomfortable it is for the protagonist. The "used future" aesthetic is clearly indebted to "Alien" but the effects are still well done. Moreover, the low, ominous lighting and threat of blood dripping into the interior keeps things creepy. The blurry photographs we get of whatever is hunting the submarine are effective. They create an impression of a weird, giant, angler fish-like threat while still leaving plenty of room for the imagination to elaborate. The script does a good job of emphasizing how bleak this situation is. By slowly revealing more details about why the pilot is a prisoner, about what he did that was so atrocious, the film creates a properly hopeless feeling. This is a good setting for a story about the human spirit to fight and survive, no matter how uneven the odds. And Mark "Iplier" Fischbach is a functional leading man. He reminds me of a young Keanu Reeves and I mean that as a compliment. I don't know if he sells the depth of emotion and passion the part was calling for. I'm also not sure if he is compelling enough a presence to anchor an entire movie. However, I've also seen way less convincing performances from other would-be auteurs, so kudos for what the guy pulls off. 

The places where "Iron Lung" falls behind a bit are more standard. Namely, narrative coherence and pacing. The movie is over two hours long. This is largely thank to a lengthy sequence in the middle where the pilot is adrift in an unknown cave system, trying to navigate his way out. The film can never make it entirely clear how he figures out exactly where he is or where he is going. It seems to involve a lot of math and lines drawn on a graph. Furthermore, this sequence is also where the protagonist starts to hallucinate, always a dicey way to keep an isolated, mostly single character story moving. These scenes drag the forward momentum of the film down. They also seem to exist mostly to expand on the back story. Despite the extensive peeks we get at what has happened before these events and its ramifications for the rest of the universe, I still didn't have a clear idea of a lot of the plot details until I read a plot synopsis. I think all the things the film does well could have been done without the elaborate sci-fi backstory or far-out alien setting. (Though the cool factor of a "sea of blood" does count for something.) I do think some of these flaws are inherited from a style of source material heavy on "environmental storytelling" and an emphasis on mythos you can fill a fan wiki with. "Five Nights at Freddy's" and its consequences have been a disaster for the horror genre or something. 

Overall, I'm inclined to say my impression of "Iron Lung" is a mostly positive one. Not everything the story wants to get across is clear. However, perhaps that is fitting. As with past low budget homage to Lovecraft, "The Outwaters," I think the audience being as clueless as to what is happening as the protagonist becomes a good way to properly convey the disorientating aspect of cosmic horror. We might have been intended to take away more from "Iron Lung" but what I got is that this is a guy of average intelligence having a deep sea encounter with some bizarre, inhuman intelligence who seems to regard us puny flesh-bags with contempt. A more elaborate update of Howard Phillip's "Dagon," in other words. There's also some grisly body horror effects as the film goes on, the submarine's pipes and steel seemingly being replaced with veins and flesh. That idea is taken to some nicely gruesome places before the end. I didn't understand why all these things were happening but I thought they were interesting. It comes closer than some to capturing what is actually interesting about this subgenre to me. 

If there's been no other lesson we can take away from the horror hits of 2026, it's that we better get used to tomorrow's hot directors starting off as today's Youtuber. I don't know if Fischbach has the technical talent of some of these similar success stories. Mistakes are made here and they are of the type that might be more intrinsic than formal. A guy supported by millions of enthusiastic fans online, instead of fellow editors and artisans making informed decisions, is probably always going to make something that is too long or too invested in its own concepts. At the same time, I have to admire his chutzpah in getting his movie in front of people. If filmmakers wanna leverage the following they've built up through making faces at video game footage, so be it. "Iron Lung" ain't bad and even does some things well. [7/10]

Bridge to Nowhere (1986)

In the Whanganui National Park, of New Zealand's North Island, resides the Mangapurua Gorge and the stream that runs through it. In 1917, the government attempted to turn the surrounding land into farms for soldiers returning home from World War I. In the thirties, a 130 foot long concrete bridge was constructed across the gorge. The intention was to eventually build connecting roads on either side, to create vehicular access to nearby ports. However, the remoteness of the area and the soil's inability to support crops doomed the settlement. Following a major flood in 1942, the project was abandoned altogether. The bush reclaimed the land and consumed most signs that people once lived and worked there... Except for that bridge, which still stands, unlinked to any roads or paths. People call it the Bridge to Nowhere and it's a popular tourist attraction for hikers and mountain bikers. It is also, you might recognize just from the sounds of it, a great location for a horror movie. American screenwriter Bill Baer, producer Larry Parr, and beloved New Zealand character actor Ian Mune thought the same thing. With Mune directing, "Bridge to Nowhere" came together as a modest thriller in 1986. Much like the farmlands that birthed it, the movie has mostly fallen into obscurity save for adventurous types willing to hunt it down. 

Five youths set out for a weekend excursion into the New Zealand wilderness, with the titular bridge being their primary destination. Tanya and her quiet brother, Carl, leave following an argument with their parents. They are joined by Tanya's rowdy boyfriend, Leon, and two additional friends, couple Julia and Gray. The group expects to be alone with nature on this trip but soon discover this is not the case. Mac, an isolated cattle farmer who lives with a much younger girl named Lise, works and lives nearby. After Leon attempts to shoot one of Mac's cows, tensions start to flare between them. After Leon tries to assault Tanya, he flees into the woods and discovers Mac's cabin... And spies on Mac and Lise in a romantic moment. A fight ensues, violence following. Soon, Mac is pursuing Tanya and her friends across the forest. He's determined to eliminate any witnesses to his crime, tracking the kids with his hunting dogs and picking them off one by one with his rifle.

On paper, “Bridge to Nowhere” reads essentially like a hybrid of “Deliverance” and a slasher movie. It has the same set-up, of a group of suburbanites heading into the wilderness for a vacation and running afoul of the locals. Mac is not quite a depraved hillbilly type. At first, I thought Lise might be his daughter, which would've made the revelation of their sexual relationship fit that stereotype. Instead, apparently they are just a couple with a visible age gap. Meanwhile, the cast of characters are all youths, still navigating their identities and social boundaries. Essentially, the film sticks characters you could find in “Just Before Dawn” or “Without Warning” into a “Hunter's Blood” or “Southern Comfort” type scenario. Having man revert to his savage nature out in the wilderness is a gimmick that usually works for me. When set among the especially scenic New Zealand landscapes, it makes for an even nicer contrast. The verdant woods and cascading leaves truly ups the feeling of isolation here. 

While “Bridge to Nowhere” superficially resembles the set-up of a slasher movie, it's not paced like one. The film takes its time before the danger becomes apparent. Mac doesn't begin to cut the teens down until about half-way through the film. It's a little while longer before the kids realize they are in danger. The stalking scenes are devoted more to the guy's (adorable) dogs trailing the kids as they attempt to put distance between them and their threat. The result is a film that slowly ramps up the tension, the situation growing more desperate before the youths and their hunter come to blows. This slow increase of suspense is furthered by the murderer mostly using a rifle as his weapon of choices. That gives him the advantage of distance and surprise, making the teens seemed more actively endangered than in your usual Jason flick. By the time the last man standing goes hand-to-hand with their pursuer, “Bridge to Nowhere” successfully reaches a frantic pitch. 

Rather than have a final girl, like most body count flicks, “Bridge of Nowhere” has a Final Boy. Matthew Hunter plays Carl, as a stoic and sensitive type who is more interested in observing than acting. He has the arc, of a shy and unassuming youth who has to rise to the occasion and fight off the attacker. That choice also points to the somewhat understated nature of the film's writing. The script does not develop all its cast members equally. Gray and Julia are indistinct hanger-ons, never quite emerging as anything other than The Other Ones. Leon and Tanya, meanwhile, spend a bit more time than is appreciated screaming at each other. That Mac and his dysfunctional relationship with Lise are the most interesting characters in the film is probably another example of the unbalanced writing here. Bruno Lawrence plays the man with a steely quality that makes his actions, no matter how rash, seem calculated and reasonable. Meanwhile, Alison Routledge as Lise seems to be prone to mental instability. I found myself wanting to know more about what the hell the exact dynamic between these two was. 

I'm not sure the film is too interested in women. Leon is introduced stealing a rifle from his dad's gun vault, as if firearms are totems of masculine power. When him and Gray first find a swimming hole, they strip off their clothes and leap in, whangs flopping around. Later, they trick Carl – who is introduced shirtless and wears a mesh shirt – into taking a fart right to the face. Yes, there is a bit of casual homoeroticism at play. I don't think this is merely an example of an eighties movie accidentally bending towards queer subtext. To contrast against Carl's calm, perhaps even submissive nature, Leon is a hyper-sexual braggart. He is also pushing forward into wilder displays of courage, as if he's eager to prove his bravery and worth. When he gets a young woman all alone, his instinct do not veer toward romance but violence. Is “Bridge to Nowhere” making some sort of statement about toxic masculinity? I'm inclined to say yes, which makes the decision to not play the villain as some sort of raging, egregiously macho type an odd one. Mac is rustic and virile but not in a way that especially contrasts with Leon's teen boy insecurities or Carl's unassuming softness. 

In other words, “Bridge to Nowhere” is not a perfectly constructed and concise thrills machine. It is unevenly paced, with a cast that isn't fully realized, and unfulfilled ideas at its margins. At the same time, there's a humbleness at play here that can't help but charm me. The novelty of the location goes a long way, as does the natural isolation of the beautiful scenery. The film sets out with modest expectations, knowingly utilizing well-worn genre frameworks, and does a good job playing within that field. The film goes to credits almost immediately after the climax, suggesting to me that the filmmakers were well aware that this was destined to be a bite-sized, relaxed gem and not a blockbuster super-smash. That's just fine with me and I would recommend this one, to horror dorks who need something they probably haven't seen that is well executed but also won't demand their attention too closely. [7/10]

Tales from the Darkside: The Odds

This has been a hard year for fans of cult cinema and television. Unfortunately, enough time has passed that beloved performers of the eighties and nineties are starting to pass away. Among one of the notable names to shuffle off this mortal coil was the great Tom Noonan, whose height and off-beat aura saw him cast as many villains in beloved films. He also did TV sometimes, such as a memorable early episode of “Tales from the Darkside.” “The Odds” concerns Tommy Vale, a bookie who never turns down a bet and, accordingly, never turns down battering those that fail to pay up. A mysterious tall man in a white hat appears in his bar one day. He makes improbable bets that, somehow, always pay off. Tommy's buddy, who is always tinkering with a chiming electronic calculator, says the man resembles Bill Lacey. That was an old customer of Vale's, who took a still unsolved dive off a bridge not that long ago. Shortly after the suspicion that this could be Lacey's grown son, or the man himself returned from the grave for revenge, the visitor makes another bet: That Tommy Vale will be dead by eight o'clock tonight.

“The Odds” is not an episode wide in scope. The entire story takes place in Tommy Vale's bar and there's only three or four characters. It's a tale from the dark side without any monsters. The supernatural elements are subtle and could be considered ambiguous. Despite that, it is a compelling half-hour of television. That's largely because of the two actors playing against each other here. In one corner, we have Mr. Noonan, putting on an outrageous guideo accent. He smiles like he knows a secret and has an ideal twinkle of sinister intent in his eyes. It's an proper use of Noonan's unique star power. Opposite him is another great character actor, Danny Aiello. This is the exact type of tough guy, Mafia-adjacent role that Aiello specialized in. With simply a look or a particular line read, he summons up a cock-sure intelligence or a calculating exactness. He never raises his voice but prove a threatening presence nevertheless.

Watching these two bounce off each other is worthwhile. When the ghostly element appears, I really like how casually Aiello accepts it. Like the E.C. Comics that inspired “Tales from the Darkside,” this is a story of a crooked bastard getting what's coming to him. Like the fairy tales and folk stories that inspired those comics, it's also a riff on a common storytelling idea. Namely, that you cannot cheat the devil out of what he's owed. The twist ending of “The Odds” comes right before the end credits, the episode really making you wait for that pay-off. It's a satisfying conclusion, albeit one heavily foreshadowed. Despite that and its humble resources, this is a good “Tale.” It's also a fitting tribute to Noonan and Aiello's talents, two performers who could do a lot with very little. [7/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Baron's Bride

I don't know how much Frank Mancuso Jr. and the gang cared about specific episode milestones. However, the production team did whip up something kind of special for the thirteenth episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” “The Baron's Bride” begins with a guy name Frank inquiring about a room for rent in a stately old mansion. The hostess keeps mentioning her late husband and leaves an old cape with an ornate jewel on it out in the room, which Frank is compelled to try on. This is the object Ryan, Micki, and Jack are seeking this week, an old baron's cape said to make the wearer irresistible to women. There's more though, because the homeowner is... A vampire! She bites Frank before the Curious Goods trio burst into the room. The now vampiric, cape-wearing renter grabs Ryan and Miki and finishes saying the incantation the vampiress was speaking a minute ago. This sends all three of them back in time to 1860s England. Now they have to stop a vampire killer on the loose in Whitechapel and figure out how to get home. Oh yeah, Miki is also starting to fall under the cape's allure. The gang gets assistant from a Scottish author named Abraham and Caitlin, whose true identities should be easy enough to guess...

Yes, “The Baron's Bride” is “Friday the 13th: The Series”” homage to “Dracula.” Not only Stoker's novel either. The minute the setting shifts back in time to Victorian London, the episode switches to black-and-white. This is not simply an example of the colors being de-saturated. Cinematographer Rodney Charters and director Bradford May were clearly fans of the classic Universal Monster movies. (May was previously the D.P. on “The Monster Squad,” so this is not surprising.) The shadows are very deep and dark, accented by moody grays. There's a fair bit of fog and shots of the vampire lurking around the urban back alleys. Some ambiance taken from Tod Browning and Karl Freund is not the only classic horror throwback here. Frank looks more like Langella's Dracula in his cloak but, upon removing the cape, his hands become elongated claws and his face takes a rat-like visage, “Nosferatu” style. In general, this is a slightly freakier vampire than your usual bloodsucker, fangs longer and mouth wider than a demure Dracula. 

Beyond the strong visuals and nods to old monster movies, I also enjoy how this episode's premise keeps escalating. You assume it's going to be an average “Friday the 13th,” simply about a cursed piece of evening wear reeking havoc. That's before the introduction of straight-up vampires, a supernatural threat previously not established in this universe and unrelated to the usual demonic knickknacks. And then the gang is shot back in time, another gimmick tossed atop this set-up. Simply dropping Ryan and Micki into a new setting is fun. Robey being enthralled by a vampire allows her to broaden her acting a bit, getting to be a femme fatale in a scene or two. The true identity of “Abraham” is immediately obvious the minute I heard his accent. Eighties genre TV loved secret origin stories like this. Also, I continue to be surprised by how gory this show was allowed to get, as its stakes through the hearts are bloodier than anticipated. Bradford May would go on to direct the lame “Darkman” sequels, which would've benefit from some of this classic horror energy. [7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 21st

Backrooms (2026)

In May of 2014, an image of an empty room from a future Wisconsin Hobby Lobby location was posted to 4chan. The photo of identical walls senselessly leading into each other, dull lighting overhead, soggy looking carpet below, and piss-yellow wallpaper between was accompanied by some short text. It described "noclipping" out of reality and into a place called the Backrooms, a labyrinthine dimension of identically drab locations that are seemingly empty except for when it suddenly, malevolently isn't. The author of this piece of fiction has never stepped forward but their post quickly became a foundational text for the growing internet subgenre of "liminal space" horror. Among the many resulting fan projects was a series of found footage short films, made by a sixteen year old former Minecraft LetsPlayer named Kane Parsons. This became extremely popular and Parsons soon had major Hollywood studios interested in developing his work into a feature film. A24 and Atomic Monster won out and Parsons' "Backrooms" movie opened this past May to massive box office and positive reactions from critics and fans. What this means for the future of Hollywood has already been debated endlessly, meaning "Backrooms" is easily 2026's most discussed horror release. Naturally, I must weigh in on it during the Halloween months. 

At the start of the nineties, failed architect Clark is currently managing a furniture store called Cap'n Clark's Ottoman Empire. To deal with his divorce and alcoholism, Clark is seeing therapist Mary Kline, who has lingering issues of her own. Annoyed by the store's high electricity bills, and baffled by a strange switch on the circuit box, Clark investigates the basement show room... And notices a sliver of light in the wall. Upon investigating, he falls through the wall into another world of self-replicating rooms arranged in a random, endless order. Clark becomes obsessed with these back rooms, calling upon his two employees to record an exploration with a video camera. However, the further into the strange nature of this world Clark goes, the more he learns how dangerous it can be. It's only a matter of time before Mary Kline is pulled into the Backrooms as well. 

The eeriness of liminal space imagery arises from its lack of people. The visuals are familiar. Indeed, part of what made the initial Backrooms post stick in the brain so much is that nearly everyone has seen a room that looks something like that. It could be the back of an aging department store, a weird hotel, your old high school, a relative's apartment. You know this place but it’s bereft of human connection, so lacking in distinctive touches that it feels like a moment in a dream. As for why this appeals to the modern generation so much, I think it has to do with the death of communal spaces. Some have observed that the current crop of teenagers grew up when malls and other traditional gathering places for youths were starting to die off, making distant memories of public but strangely empty locations a cultural touchstone perhaps. In “Backrooms,” Parson repeatedly draws a parallel between these dead spaces, whether it be the titular extra-dimensional complex or Clark's failing business, and supposedly warmer areas like living rooms, therapist’s offices, or an outdoor apartment complex. All the places in “Backrooms” seem artificial, impersonal, and they all end up a part of the titular labyrinth eventually. 

It dovetails with a growing sense of cultural isolation and alienation. (Also, there's a brief lingering shot of phone lines and an ever-present electric hum in the film, which probably isn't a shout-out to dissociated from reality classic “Serial Experiments Lain” but I'm gonna say it is anyway.) These are all symptoms of late-stage capitalism, of individual connection being squeezed out by soulless mass production driven by corporations demanding ever-more growth and profit even as it chokes the life out of the society around it. This is perhaps why the imperfect echoes of people and places seen in the Backrooms recall the close-but-not-quite-right visuals of modern day generative A.I. The walls, doorways, and eventual residents of the Backrooms look perhaps familiar and logical from a distance but, a closer look, reveals nightmarish visual glitches. “Backrooms” takes place in the nineties and its ending implies that, whatever the Backrooms are, they are growing and spreading. Which means, thirty-six years later in 2026, we might as well all be living in the Backrooms. Inhuman intelligences have, indeed, attempted to replace agreed-upon actual reality with an eerie simulacrum and we're all fucking stuck in it. In the press tour after the film's release, its director would express his disdain for generative A.I., suggesting it was on his mind while making the movie. 

These are the thoughts and feelings “Backrooms” invoked in me but maybe I'm treating all that yellow wallpaper as a Rorschach test. Parson's film smartly avoids providing an origin for the titular phenomena, where the Backrooms came from and to what purpose it exists remaining mysterious. Which doesn't mean that the movie avoids telling us what it's doing. The opening line is Mary Kline talking about how maladaptive coping mechanisms form, how the human mind repeats what is familiar to it. A key monologue describes what the Backrooms does as like a faulty memory of an experience. Blurry MRI scans of the brain, comparable to the winding rooms, crop up at one point. Probably the hackiest part of Will Soodik's screenplay is Dr. Kline's back story, which includes a mentally ill mother. She carries around the literal last remaining piece of a troubled childhood home, some loaded visual symbolism that naturally gets a key role in the climax. I probably could've done without that stuff but Parsons' film, at the very least, doesn't belabor this element too much. 

Pretty much every positive review of “Backrooms” complimented the evident talent the young director displayed here. While I have no doubt that Osgood Perkins providing his usual cinematographer, editor, sound designer, and set dresser probably deserve some thanks, “Backrooms” suggest that Parsons knows how to make an effective horror movie. While the Youtube shorts were made in Blender, physical sets were built for the feature, making the surreal environments properly tactile. An overall eerie vibe is successfully captured. Several long sequences are done in the found footage style, effectively extending the sense of disorientation the characters feel to the audience and furthering the feeling of a half-remembered, off-putting nightmare. The highlight found footage moment ends in a well-done bit of visual misdirection. Parson is so adapt at generating a creepy feeling and a sense of tension that I'll forgive the film for its somewhat disappointing lapse into more traditional monster movie antics in the last act. 

Despite a kind of lame formative trauma for its heroine and a finale that maybe leaves behind the material's more interesting ideas, “Backrooms” is good. I would say it's at least the second best A24 film based on an internet meme, depending on how you feel about “Zola” or the Nic Cage “This Man” movie. (Aside from the obvious, Parsons pays homage to at least two other notable works of internet-based horror here, which is hopefully not an indication of some creepypasta cinematic universe forming or whatever.) Chiwetel Ejiofor is one of 2026's more relatable Toxically Masculine Lead in a Horror Movies, channeling a bit of Jack Torrance. Renate Reinsve does the physical stuff nicely as Dr. Kline. How the script essentially hands over protagonist status between these characters at one point is a bit odd but the pacing rolls with it. It doesn't feel lumpy. Overall, I would say young filmmakers getting scouted from Youtube to make well done new horror movies is an overall good thing for both the genre and the film industry and I'm curious what this guy will do next. [7/10]

Diablio (1992)

West Africa is home to over one hundred distinct species of snakes. This, naturally, means the slithering reptiles frequently appear in the myths of the local people. Serpent deities represent rebirth, eternity, fertility and creation in many stories. Pythons are considered sacred animals in several belief systems. Snakes are often feared as well and many erroneous beliefs about the animals proliferate. They are also associated with witches and warlocks. This is still a very real concern in modern day Ghana, paranoia around witchcraft leading to persecution and isolation. For one example, there is the obayifo. This is a vampire/witch like creature said to wear skirts made of snake or transform into them. Which brings me to “Diabolo,” a Ghanaian horror movie made in either 1989, 1991, or 1992. (Sources vary.) The film is an example of how myths about snakes and sorcerers survive into the modern day. It's also an example of so-called “Ghallywood” filmmaking, extremely low budget productions made by unprofessional crews and spoken in English, whether or not the actors are fluent in the language or not. Which means we are going into some wild and weird territory here. 

The plot of “Diabolo” is both threadbare and repetitive, to the point that it's hard to call it a plot at all: A man picks up prostitutes at parties and lure them back to his home with large amounts of cash. He drugs them, lays them on his bed, and undresses him. Upon which he transforms into a python and slithers between their legs. Sometimes, this causes the women to vomit up money afterwards. Usually, it results in their deaths the next morning, as they stumble home. The Diabolo Man keeps this up until someone decides something must be done. A shaman is enlisted to help fight this evil but it's ultimately up to the women the Diabolo preys on to stop the monster.

That straight-to-the-point synopsis doesn't really explain what watching “Diabolo” is like though. The film begins with a lengthy sequence set at a night club. At one point, a one-legged dancer named Lewis Pee is introduced with on-screen text. He does, indeed, break dance despite only having one leg. Another draw-out moment is devoted to a stage magician doing his act in full. A subplot of some sort concerns men wrongfully accused of the Diabolo's crimes, thrown into prison and brutalized by the cops. Other times, “Diabolo” simply watches people walk from location to location or just hanging out. Such moments are often scored to popular, unlicensed music. The version available on YouTube actually has to mute the audio during these sequences, so as to avoid the website's copyright detection system. 

If that doesn't make it clear, “Diabolo” is not a slick production. The sound mixing is atrocious, dialogue often hard to decipher over the blaring music or blowing wind sounds. That music is usually either stock music or the film' theme song, a jazzy Casio keyboard pre-set with Atari 2600 explosion sounds interlaced with the title being shouted. What dialogue can be heard is often difficult to understand, owing to the thick accents of the actors. The camera work is frequently shaky, going out of focus a few times. The shadow of a boom mic lingers on-screen for several minutes during an early sequences. The acting is wooden, lines stiltedly shouted or mumbled. The performers often are reduced to flailing around on the ground. The special effects are, unsurprisingly, crude as hell. The opening credits feature pixilated computer fonts flashing around on-screen. The final scene brings the image of a snake with a human head – a reoccurring concept in African mythology – to life by burying an actor up to his ears and laying a dead snake behind him. 

Yes, a dead snake. As previously observed, animals being endangered or killed are not a concern in West African cinema. A ritual involves a real chicken being decapitated. The finale has a cat menaced by a python. (And, thankfully, left unharmed.) The movie seems determined to generate fear mostly by having real snakes slither around on top of people. That should make it clear that “Diabolo” is a pretty sleazy motion picture. One of its earliest shots is a lingering close-up on an actress' ass. Despite repeatedly featuring women being drugged and sexually assaulted with a reptile, the film also doesn't contain any nudity or on-screen sex. Thus, a movie with an extremely fucked-up premise is also too guarded to depict that fucked-up premise on-screen. The result is a motion picture that vacillates between unintentional hilarity and extreme discomfort. One minute, you're laughing at actors spasmodically rolling around or the hilariously bad editing. The next, you are seriously afraid that an animal is about to be killed. Or watching a witch doctor pull what I think is rope out of a woman's orifice, a scene I did not understand the significance of. 

All of that is bordered by quite a lot of tedium too, during those scenes of people just walking or dancing or sitting in a room. My closest point of comparison is the Nigerian “Witchdoctor of the Livingdead,” which was similarly crude and childish. That movie had an infectious spirit of anything-can-happen nuttiness to it, which the sluggishly paced “Diabolo” cannot summon. It's a film that shifts between being a Bleeding Skull mind-melter, a hilariously amateurish outsider production, and feeling like it could become a real snuff film at any minute. I'm genuinely not sure what to make of it. People in Ghana seemed to have liked it though. Star/writer/director Bob Smith Junior became so associated that he became professionally known as “the Diabolo Man” or “The Snake Man.” It seems to have gotten at least one, maybe two, sequels. I can't say the film didn't bore me. I also can't say that it wasn't interesting. “Diabolo” is certainly a deranged, baffling experience. [6/10]

Tales of the Unexpected: Number Eight

The minute I found out there was an episode of “Tales of the Unexpected” featuring Brad Dourif as a potentially murderous hitchhiker, that shit shot to the top of my watch list. An unassuming man, with a bucket hat and a gold watch, drives down a road. He impulsively picks up a wild-eyed hitchhiker. The radio plays a news story about an on-the-loose serial killer, nicknamed the Will-o-the-Wisp Killer, that has claimed seven victims so far. The supposed description of the killer matches the appearance of the hitchhiker. The passenger grows increasingly unhinged, as he berets and goads and threatens the driver. They eventually end up at a lonely road-side diner, only a waitress and two women inside. The hitchhiker's behavior grows more intense, the driver and the other occupants of the building feeling increasingly certain that they are in danger. 

By 1984, Brad Dourif was still four years off from playing his most iconic character but was still well on his way to being typecast as a psychopath. I guess that happens when you have a wiry frame, intense eyes, and get good at projecting an aura of menace. That's exactly what he does in “Number Eight.” At first, he strikes the viewer as merely eccentric, cracking jokes at the driver's expense and generally being overly familiar with someone he just met. Yeah, he does a cackling laugh that sounds a lot like the Chucky laugh too. However, Dourif does an excellent job of slowly upping the implicit threats, the distressing behavior. What starts as awkward flirting with the women at the restaurant escalates to personal boundaries being crossed. He keeps referencing a “party” he's planning, which feels like more of a sickening promise of inevitable violence than a mere gag the longer the episode goes on.

Now, this is “Tales of the Unexpected.” Every installment of the series is predicated on the story having a twist ending. Do you believe that the man acting like a dangerous nut case is truly more dangerous than the quiet, submissive man he's traveling with? The other leading man of this story is Dennis Christopher, also a physically slight character actor with distinctive eyes and a quiet intensity. He had played a murderous loner already by this point too. Yet Christopher makes a good foil to Dourif. He does a good job of playing up the guy's nerves, obviously because he's stuck in a very tense situation and not because he's hiding anything. Alright, so the ending for this tale might be quite expected. That doesn't make watching two beloved performers bouncing off each other any less rewarding to watch. “Number Eight” is tense, secluded, and completely compelling. [8/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Faith Healer

David Cronenberg was coming off the biggest hit of his career in 1988, the remake of “The Fly” pushing the King of Body Horror as far into the mainstream as he'd ever go. I don't know why he randomly directed an episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series” at this time. Perhaps out of Canadian solidarity. The titular “Faith Healer” is Stewart Fishoff and, obviously, he's a fraud. Skeptic debunker Jerry exposes Fishoff in front of his audience, who angrily chase him into an alleyway. That's when the guy stumbles upon today's Cursed Object. It's a silk glove that can transfer a sickness from one body to another, healing one person at the cost of giving another an amplified version of the same disease. Jack enlists the help of Jerry to get close to Fishoff, who is now very rich and powerful. There's a problem though: Jerry is dying of a terminal illness and sees this magical glove as a chance to cure himself and finish off on an old enemy.

If you're wondering whether Cronenberg's trademarks would manifest at all when applied to a weekly TV show, “Faith Healer” doesn't wait long to answer that. One of the irate victims Fishoff ripped off is an old woman, walking with crutches and with scars on her face. The effects of the magic glove causes the fake healer's hand to break-out in hideous sores. What ailment Jerry is suffering from exactly is never specified. It causes his chest to break out in large, pulsating black nodes. Maybe he has some strain of Bubonic Plague or especially aggressive leprosy. I don't know if Cronenberg was sought out to direct this one because the script was heavy on the body horror or if he brought that element to the episode himself. Either way, it marks this an especially grisly installment of the show.

The conflict being between a religious fraudster and a skeptical debunker also inserts a theme of science versus faith. That too feels like a distinctly Cronenberg-ian choice. If Dave's work has always been about the internal becoming external, Stewart Fishoff's rotten character manifesting as mutated skin despite his squeaky-clean public image is fitting. Jerry also makes a joke about bending spoons, turning this into Cronenberg's take on the James Randi/Uri Gellar rivalry. That seems like the kind of thing that would interest Dave. The last act involves a tense shoot-out between two guys that look a bit like Michael Ironside, in a city that's clearly Toronto, invoking “Scanners” as well.

In fact, “Faith Healer” feels enough like a David Cronenberg movie that it doesn't feel much like an episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” Micki and Ryan have a fairly small role here. Jack is an old friend of Jerry's, the scenes of them talking being a highlight. However, most of the episode revolves around the faith healer and the skeptic, two characters never seen before or since. Was a horror auteur allowed to essentially do his own thing here or did it just work-out that Cronenberg's episode happens to stand alone from the rest of the series well enough? Whatever the reason, there's enough twisted flesh and scientific themes to please fans of the director. [7/10]