Welcome to the film-related musings, complaints, and comments of Zack Clopton, an amateur film-critic, scholar, and screenwriter. Featured here are Director's Report Cards, essays, and other reviews. Enjoy!
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Showing posts with label christopher lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label christopher lee. Show all posts
Mr. Norris' previous three motion pictures were all produced and distributed by American Cinema Releasing, proving to be some of the low-budget company's most successful films. Unfortunately, as is too often the case, the studio overextended itself by trying out some bigger budget projects. A few flops and expensive re-shoots on “I, the Jury” led American Cinema Releasing to close their doors by 1981. Chuck was on a roll though and would have no reason to slow down his one-a-year pace. He simply roundhouse kicked his way over to Avco-Embassy, a company that had their name on so many cult favorites in the eighties. In no time at all, he was right at work on “An Eye for an Eye,” the Chuck Norris vehicle of 1981 How does it stand up to those that came before and after?
Once again, Chuck plays a city cop on the narcotics beat. He's Detective Sean Kane and, along with his partner Dave, they are meeting an informant in a dark alley. It turns out to be a set-up, Dave getting shot, crushed by a speeding car, and burned alive. In a vengeful rage, Kane immediately hunts down the shooter and punches him out an apartment window. The driver of the car remains unidentified and Kane turns in his badge, haunted by the memories. It also haunts Dave's widow, a respectable TV reporter named Linda Chan. She digs into the case further, uncovering something that gets her pursued by a giant Asian man. She calls Sean in a panic before being brutally strangled to death by her attacker. Sean teams up with Linda's dad, a martial arts master who taught him how to fight, and takes the law into his own hands. They soon uncover that the Triads are running an international drug running operation out of the city and it's connected with some powerful names
The first act of “An Eye for an Eye” resembles a darker, gritter type of action/crime movie than what you usually expect from a Chuck Norris flick. When Dave is murdered – the first of several times Terry Kiser would appear as a corpse in an eighties movie – there's a close-up on the body's burned, bloodied face. Afterwards, Kane is driven into such a rage that he's pointing his gun at old ladies in the hallway. There's a visible pissed-off aura radiating from Chuck in these scenes that is intense and different from the kind of roles he's played up to this point. This leads into the sequence of a terrified heroine being pursued by Professor Toru Tanaka, all his mass squeezed into a turtle neck and propped up on one elevated shoe. It's a surprisingly tense chase, ending with a shot of Tanaka's fist exploding through a door like it's Jason Voorhees' machete. I found myself wondering if “An Eye for an Eye” was going to continue in this mold, bringing some slasher energy to its gritty inner city setting.
I would have liked to have seen a little more of that but this grim first act doesn't really represent what “An Eye for an Eye” is like. Instead, the film immediately veers in a much lighter direction. I guess a few weeks off from the force is enough to mellow Kane out, cause he almost seems like a different character in these scenes. He has an adorable dog, who has a habit of running off with his shirts. This is the focus of several scenes, including when he brings his love interest home. That love interest would be Heather, played by Maggie Cooper. Her and Norris have actual chemistry, better than the leading ladies in his prior movies. When he does things like carry a stack of VHS tapes or promises her she'll be safe in his home, it actually comes across as sweet. There is some tonal whiplash from swinging so hard between a gritty action flick and a cutesy romantic comedy but, weirdly, it works.
That's the mood “An Eye for an Eye” operates in for most of the rest of its runtime. Chuck cracks a few quibs here and one actually got a laugh out of me. Most of the film pairs him with Mako, as John Chan. It's another example of the obviously Japanese actor playing a Chinese character. (Professor Toru Tanaka, who was of Hawaiian/Chinese lineage in real life despite his stereotypically Japanese stage name, is as well.) However, Mako slips into the role of a martial arts master really easily, to the point that I'm surprised he didn't do it more often. Either he's doing some of these throws and tumbles himself or the stunt team did a good job of matching him. Either way, he has an amusing gimmick where he always criticizes Kane's martial arts, no matter how much he just saved his ass. The two do not tag along with each other for the whole movie, “An Eye for an Eye” stopping just short of being a proper buddy cop action flick. However, I would have happily watched a whole movie of Mako being Chuck's smart-ass sensai type as they fight the bad guys together.
This is another Norris vehicle that seeks to compensate for any lack of charisma the star might have by filling out the supporting cast with reliable performers. Aside from Mako, Richard Roundtree shows up as the police chief. Definitely needed a few more scenes of him gruffly reading the cowboy cop the riot act. Christopher Lee plays the head of the network, a role the script does a very poor job of disguising is villainous. Mostly because they cast Count Dracula in the part. Stock though the role may be, Lee was a master at elevating nothing parts to grand poetry. An exchange he has about his preference for Asian woman drips with sinister intent that I don't think a lesser performer could have sold with the same weird level of dignity. Matt Clark, another instantly recognizable but not always easy to name character actor, also has a memorable part. If nothing else, he gets the grisliest death scene in the whole movie.
After his first few films almost seemed to apologize for being martial arts movie, the eighties finally let Chuck Norris fight more than a few times in each of his flicks. This trend continues with “An Eye for an Eye,” which features some excellent action over all. The showdown between him, Mako, and a horde of Triad enforcers is very well done. Chuck's trademark moves, not only the roundhouse kicks but when he delivers multiple blows in quick succession or trips someone up by hooking his leg around their necks, all get a big workout here. The gag of kicking some bad guys off a railing or cliff is repeated a few times and works nicely. The proper finale of the film is the showdown with Toru Tanaka. It's a stand-out because Chuck actually gets his ass kicked during it, tossed across the room repeatedly. Much like “The Octagon,” the finale doesn't merely focus on Norris kicking and punching his way through the villain's army. There's plenty of that – an amusing beat-down takes place on a pool diving board – but throws in some shoot-outs and explosions too. Basically giving the audience as big of a bang for their buck as possible.
If you go back and look at the reviews of “An Eye for an Eye,” you find a succession of critics saying that it's simply another Chuck Norris movie, doing all the same things his other films have done. This is basically true. If you aren't already a fan of this strain of bullshit, you are unlikely to find much compelling here. However, “An Eye for an Eye” actually presents some interesting tonal shifts that keep the same old kicking and fighting more compelling than usual. When combined with some strong action choreography and a supporting cast full of familiar faces that you are always happy to see, it makes this one go down real smooth. [7/10]
[THE CHUCK OF NORRIS: 2 outta 5] [] Facial Hair [] Jumps or Kicks Through a Window or Wall [X] Performs Spin Kick or Spin Punch to Enemy's Face [X] Shows Off His Hairy Chest [] Sports Some Cowboy Getup
I'm glad that we, as a culture, decided to forgive Winona Ryder. Considering the vile acts male movie stars commit, their careers intact afterwards, a little shop-lifting truly doesn't feel like a big deal. Hell, it's practically morally justified. As clear as that is in retrospect, the lovely Miss Ryder was truly having a downswing in her career at the turn of the millennium. What was supposed to be her big Oscar moment got overshadowed by another actress. She was the love interest in a lame Adam Sandler movie and a lame Richard Gere weepy. And then there was “Lost Souls.” It probably sounded like a solid career move, as the directorial debut of the cinematographer of “Schindler's List.” However, nobody seemed very enthusiastic about the script and the test screenings were disastrous. A wave of religious horror movies coming out in 1999 – all hoping to cash-in on Y2K Revelations anxiety – led to the film being shelved for over a year. It finally dropped in October of 2000... Opposite a re-release of the biggest Satanic Panic thriller ever. Almost as if the studio was intentionally trying to make sure nobody paid attention to this thing. By that point, Ryder was no longer contractually obligated to promote the film, adding to the stink of failure around the whole project. After that, “Lost Souls” was quickly forgotten by normal people. I am not a normal person, however, and promised to review the movie while talking about “Bless the Child” last year. Well, consider the prophecy fulfilled.
As a teenager, Maya Larkin survived an exorcism, Father Lareaux driving a demon out of her body. Since then, she has become Lareaux's assistant whenever they are needed. The two arrive at a mental hospital, where an epileptic man and family annihilator has been obsessively writing down numbers. The exorcism is a failure, Father Lareaux left catatonic and the victim stuck in a coma. Maya decodes the man's writing and discovers the name Peter Kelson. That is a lawyer and writer famous for his true crime books on the nature of evil. Peter is having strange dreams and odd experiences. A priest attempts to kill him. Maya slips him an audio recording of the exorcism but Peter can't hear anything on it. The same recording pushes his elderly neighbor to suicide. After meeting Maya again, Peter becomes convinced that his life is the result of a Satanic conspiracy. At midnight, on his 33rd birthday, he will become possessed by the spirit of Satan himself. Maya sets out to stop this apocalyptic chain of events before it is too late.
"Lost Souls" is proof positive that gathering a bunch of talented people together is not enough to prevent the making of a stinky dog turd. The narrative's stakes are about as high as they can get, the good guys racing to stop the creation of the Antichrist before he can get the End Times rolling. Despite that, "Lost Souls" is utterly bereft of tension. The script flip-flops between Maya and Peter as protagonists, the indecisiveness stalling a sense of anticipation. The details of Peter's unholy origins are revealed during a dispassionate conversation, not as a traumatic flashback but as a list of names and events. His shock seems minimal. The movie quickly progresses past the revelation that everyone in the male lead's life has been part of a demonic cult determined to bring the Devil into his body. Most of the exorcisms take place off-screen and the arrival of Satan occurs in a literal blink of an eye. Supporting characters and subplots pop in and out, until they are dismissed. A good example of "Lost Souls'" complete unwillingness to generate any excitement is the climax. A Black Mass gathers to crown Peter as the Father of All Lies. A couple of people get shot and then the heroes escape during a scene transition, what would normally be the most important part of the story occurring completely off-screen.
As far as I can tell, "Lost Souls" is like this because nobody involved wanted to make an actual horror movie. In one of the few interviews Winona gave concerning the film, she refers to it as "more of a supernatural thriller." Director Janusz Kamiński said the film was "not the most ideal project." After it received a rare F grade from Cinema Score, New Line ordered reshoots to make the movie "scarier." This suggests nobody was trying to make a scary movie in the first place. Reshoots like that almost never work, right? You can spot with ease where these new moments were inserted. Such as when Maya has a vision of a knife wielding maniac in a melting bathroom or a blurry sequence of a man's arms and legs cracking and twisting around. If that sounds like a bad cliche, it's far from the only one present. A true groaner of a moment involves a little girl whispering blasphemous statements, amid jerky editing and digital distortion. The only cliche I find more tiresome than that is attempts to emulate the head-bopping demons of "Jacob's Ladder." "Lost Souls" employs that one too, alongside heavy metal music video style glimpses of a screeching, twitching exorcism.
"Lost Souls" being such a terminally dull experience is all the more frustrating because of the talent assembled. Based on his work with Spielberg, Julian Schnabel, and Vanilla Ice, Kamiński clearly has an eye for visuals. Mauro Fiore – who would eventually win an Oscar of his own for "Avatar" – is credited with cinematography here. "Lost Souls" received some positive notices for its photography but I don't personally see it. This is a gloomy, grey looking motion picture, overly fond of washed-out colors and dimly lit interiors. Reliable performers like John Hurt, Philip Baker Hall, and Elias Koteas are lined up for a selection of interchangeable supporting rows. It's always a joy to gaze into Winona's giant anime girl eyes but she spends the whole movie looking for some sort of emotion to latch onto. This mostly results in her staring ahead, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide with dull surprise. The character's sole defining trait is being a devout Catholic, her faith strictly being an informed and never displayed attribute. She shares zero chemistry with the bland Ben Chaplin as Peter. I think there's supposed to be some sort of romantic chemistry between the two characters but there's no sign of it. There's a mildly clever reveal concerning a hidden pentacle, a brief blip of surprise in an otherwise monotonous story.
"Lost Souls" is easily the lamest of turn-of-the-millennium Satan movies. "End of Days" is low-tier Arnold but has one or two moments, a cool special effect or a memorable quote. "Bless the Child" is bad but in an occasionally funny, interesting way that reflects the bat-shit beliefs of its author. I don't remember anything about "Stigmata," so I guess I need to write about that one next September. Regardless, you could detect some degree of passion, no matter how misplaced, in those productions. "Lost Souls" is seemingly the result of bored artists showing up, punching a clock, getting a paycheck, and expending not an ounce of themselves in the process. The last scene is so blunt and anticlimactic, furthering the feeling that everybody merely wanted to get this done and move on with their lives. Which is what I shall proceed to do. In their quest to reclaim every studio horror flick of the nineties, and in-between re-issues of "Child's Play" and "The Thing," Scream Factory gave this one a spiffy Blu-Ray. Which did nothing to redeem its reputation. May these souls remain lost. [2/10]
It is a mythological concept that exists all throughout Scandinavia but is practically unknown elsewhere. A witch fashions a creation out of bones, stolen wool or hair, nail clippings, or wood shavings She hides it between her breasts and grows it with the wine she spits out when taking communion. It grows into a weird little creature that sneaks out at night, sucking the near-by cows dry. Once gorged on milk, it returns home and vomits up the stolen goods into a churn, the witch using it to make cursed butter. As a reward, the beastie is allowed to suckle from a secret nipple on the sorceress' inner thigh. In Sweden, it usually takes the form of a hare or cat and is called a bjära. The Norwegians imagine the beast as a living ball of wool known as a trollnøste. The Estonian kratt is made from household items and brought to life with blood but still steals for its master. Latvian witches had the pūķis, a small dragon that dragged home gold and grain. In Iceland, however, this particular creature is a gruesome looking worm-thing called a tilberi. In 1987, Icelandic filmmaker Viðar Víkingsson would direct an hour long television movie inspired by this same mythology. Severin would bring this “Tilbury” to its widest audience yet as part of its folk horror box set a few years back.
The year is 1940 and the place is the Icelandic countryside. Auðun is a young man, a swimmer. He still harbors an attachment to his boyhood crush, Gudrún. After receiving news that he's been recruited into the war effort, Gudrún's pastor father asks Auðun to check on her. Arriving at the British controlled military base, Auðun discovers that the girl he knew has grown into a promiscuous young woman. She's carrying on an affair with a married British officer named Tilbury. The eccentric, impish man seems to have a strange sway over Gudrún. Auðun seemingly spies him sucking on her thigh and puking up green butter. As Auðun grows increasingly obsessed with his childhood friend, he becomes more and more convinced that her lover is a monster from Icelandic folklore.
“Tilbury” begins with a short prologue, explaining the specifics of the folkloric creature its story revolves around. The sequence focuses closely on the witch's breasts, thighs, and her spitting out the sacrament. It brings a distinctly sexual nature to the ritual. When Auðun spies the officer Tilbury with his lips on his crush's thigh, it is similarly provocative. Especially when these meetings are done in secret places or under tables, leaving slimy residue behind. It's a shock to the boy to see the girl he likes being so wantonly sexual with a creepy little pervert. The more we see of Auðun's childhood recollections, however, the less wholesome they seem. He repeatedly revisits the image of the young girls teasing him by kicking their legs over his head as they're on swings. Is he looking up their skirts or laying down under them in preparation for...? Well, when paired with the tilberi's acts of suckling and vomiting – his lover and creator being the same figure, that he calls “Mommy” – it all starts to feel very kinky. Auðun's resentment of Officer Tilbury is clearly based in jealousy. At the same time, it starts to feel like he equally resents him and Gudrún for being willing to express their sexuality in an open, wanton way.
“Tilbury” is probably most easily read as a film about sexual repression, a tightly wound young man suffering the culture shock of a more modern, sexually liberated couple. At the same time, there are more international concerns on Víkingsson's mind. The British presence in Iceland is shown as something of an unnatural intrusion, the foul-mouthed Brits often bullying and harassing Auðun. It makes him an outsider in his own country. Chocolate bars are made from the tilberi's green butter. Later on, the film connects this with crass corporate capitalism coming to Iceland, furthering the feeling that the supernatural threat represents the corrosive effects of American excess. Among the soldiers is another swimmer who gets imprisoned for possibly being a Nazi. He obviously sucks but he's also the first person to correctly identify Tilbury as a monster. Which makes me wonder what the hell the filmmaker meant by several Menorahs being present when the villain goes fully demonic. Needless to say, there's something deeper being hinted at here and I don't think it's antisemitic?
While certain elements of “Tilbury” left me uncertain of how to feel, I still enjoyed it a lot. In general, the film has a delightfully light surreal touch to it. When we are greeted to bizarre sights – like our hero stepping from a swimming pool into a sauce that is also a military watch tower – you're left wondering if you're watching a dream sequence or a reflection of objective reality. The most delightful mixture of these elements occurs during a stylish shot dance sequence, the protagonist's anxieties playing out as a musical number. This is furthered with the bizarre sights we're shown, most of which involve the tilberi's very antisocial behavior. The amount of green butter puke in this movie pushes it into the realm of gross-out comedy at times, which I mean as a compliment. Karl Ágúst Úlfsson has such an uncomfortable greasiness to him in the eponymous role, that you totally believe he's a milk-sucking goblin. The special effects are extremely lo-fi yet the persistently off-beat tone the movie cultivates makes that work.
That might be my primary disappointment with “Tilbury.” Most of the oral tradition and folk art about tilberi depict them as grotesque worm-like creatures. The replicas on display at the Icelandic Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft recall lengths of intestines, pre-mature fetuses, and massive globs of belly button lint. The creature in the movie, meanwhile, is mostly depicted as a human being with some impish features. Not that I'd expect a low-budget television film to truly have the money and resources to depict a creature that weird anyway. Mostly, it makes me wish that we had way more movies about this particular monsters, to allow for more cinematic interpretations of them. This “Tilbury” is still cool though, an oddly funny and funnily odd tale of witchcraft, sexual hang-ups, World War II, and globs of green butter. [7/10]
Presumably following the logic that people spend money on their kids, premium cable channels in the eighties produced a surprising amount of kids' show. In September of 1982, Showtime would begin broadcasting “Faerie Tale Theatre.” Produced and hosted by the fittingly whimsical Shelley Duvall, the series often featured A-list celebrities as guest stars. (And sometimes had high profile names behind the camera too, with Francis Ford Coppola and Tim Burton directing two episodes.) Usually, this was in-service of doing wacky and comical retellings of the most well-known Grimm's fairy tales. Occasionally, however, the show would present a more obscure story. Such as “The Boy Who Left Home to Find Out About the Shivers,” based on the even more awkwardly entitled “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was.” As you might have guessed from the title, this was essentially the program's Halloween special, presenting a tone a bit more ghoulish than your standard modernized take on a fairy tale.
That means it's still less gruesome than the original text, which might be the origin of the hoary horror cliché of spending the night in a haunted house to win a monetary prize. The titular character is Martin, the son of a superstitious carpenter. The boy has never experienced fear, not because he's exceptionally brave but because he's too dim-witted to know better. The boy is sent to ring the church bell at night, a set-up for a prank by the local deacon. This only results in the man getting his leg broken, leading to Martin being kicked out of his father's home. He eventually wanders towards an inn in the land of Transylvania. King Vladimir, the ruler of this land, is staying there with his daughter, Princess Amanda. That's because the castle is so beset by ghosts that nobody is willing to live there. The king makes Martin the same offer he's presented to several lads before him: If he can last three nights in the haunted castle without dying or being scared off, he will win riches and the princess' hand. Martin agrees to the task, despite having no use for money, because he hopes he'll finally be frightened for the first time in his life. However, the boy's cluelessness once again makes him difficult to startled, no matter how many spectres and zombies appear before him.
The cast list for any given episode of “Faerie Tale Theatre” sometimes feels like if every part in a “Saturday Night Live” sketch was played by a celebrity guest hosts. A not-especially boy-ish thirty year old Peter MacNicol plays the title “boy.” Christopher Lee is King Vlad, explicitly identified as the son of Vlad the Impaler. David Warner is the innkeeper. Vincent Price is the narrator. Most randomly of all, Frank Zappa plays the king's hunchbacked assistant. And would you believe that Zappa gives the funniest performance? He never speaks and instead silently performs physical gags, like smashing a window when asked to let in some fresh air or rubbing a stolen apple on his arm pit. Lee mostly plays it straight, with just a bit more goofiness in his usual style. MacNicol is playing a very silly character but otherwise does it straight, playing a character whose exceptional courage actually extends from a genuine inability to process when he's in danger.
Despite the Hollywood cast and quite detailed sets, “Faerie Tale Theatre” was still somewhat shot like a “Muppet Show” segment. The camera work is largely stationary. The digital effects are exceedingly cheesy. The writing still feels a little like a comedy sketch stretched to a full hour. Which is not to say I didn't enjoy “The Boy Who Left Hoe to Find Out About the Shivers.” Anytime the episode commits to capturing a non-threatening but suitably spooky haunted house ambiance, it's a ton of fun. The old castle setting looks like a bitchin' small time amusement park fun house. Set pieces involving a pendulum swinging into place or a revolving door feel right out of a classic “Abbott & Costello Meet the Monsters” flick. There's a pretty cool looking Grim Reaper and blinking gargoyle. The highlight of the episode is clearly a sequence where a horde of zombie-like spirits emerge, eventually playing a game of ten pins with skulls and femurs. That sounds like a great party to me! The finale features Christopher Lee shooting some extremely unconvincing laser beams out of his hands, before the punchline of the entire enterprise – the only thing that scares the boy without fear is the thought of getting married, hey-oooooo – arrives right when you expect. I would've absolutely been obsessed with this if I had seen it as a kid. [7/10]
We haven't seen Kitty Kat, the Addams' pet lion, in a while but the writers haven't forgotten about them. “Cat Addams” is kicked off when Grandmama notices that the feline is acting lethargic and not eating. Gomez quickly comes to the conclusion that Kitty Kat is not sick but rather lonely. The Addams decide to hide out on safari and seek out the help of the family witch doctor, Dr. Mbogo, in locating a mate for Kitty Kat. Unfortunately, this does not work, as Kitty's dad apparently ate Mbojo's dad. Instead, the family calls up a veterinarian called Dr. Gunderson. Gunderson arrives for a house call, assuming he is helping out a regular house cat. When he's terrified by the lion, Gomez and Morticia assumes that the guy is just suffering from a lack fo confidence. They enact a scheme to boost the terrified vet's self-esteem.
Like “The Great Treasure Hunt” before it, this is another episode of “The Addams Family” that starts off pursuing a plot point far outside the budgetary limits of a sixties sitcom. The idea of Gomez and the gang going on safari and trying to pair Kitty Kat up with a girlfriend would probably be a lot of fun... Sadly, this show couldn't afford to have real actors in the same room with an actual lion. The brief moment where Dr. Gunderson has to interact with the lion is achieved by having stock footage of a lion – clearly not the same one that usually depicts Kitty – awkwardly inserted into the Addams' basement. The producers couldn't even afford to show Dr. Mbogo in his hut, instead using brief reused footage from his first appearance in “Uncle Fester's Illness.”
Instead, the majority of “Cat Addams” is about guest star Marty Ingels as Dr. Gunderson reacting with terror and bafflement to the Addams' antics. Yes, it's yet another episode like that. My familiarity with Mr. Ingels' work only extends to his voice work in crappy old Hanna-Barbera cartoons like “The Grape Ape Show” and “Pac-Man.” (He previously did another sitcom with John Astin.) If I had to guess, I would assume that playing over-the-top cowards like this was part of his regular shtick. Regardless, he does make for an amusing presence. The back-and-forth he has with Cousin Itt and an illness feigning Fester does make for an honest chuckle or two. This episode is also notable for Lurch appearing instantly when summoned, the butler producing a Tsetsee fly right from his jacket, and Astin and Carolyn Jones giving each other some crazy bedroom eyes during one sequence. Pretty standard stuff but, hey, I like it. [7/10]
It started, as all things do, with an idea. Jeffrey Reddick heard the old urban legend about a woman telling her daughter not to get on a plane, a warning the girl heeds. The next day, the plane the girl was supposed to be on crashes, her mother's premonition having saved her life. (Or he saw "Sole Survivor," a 1984 horror flick inspired by the same story.) Reddick broke into Hollywood at fourteen, after sending his "A Nightmare on Elm Street" fanfic to New Line Cinema and badgering Rob Shaye about it after the script was rejected. At the time, he was trying to get into TV and thought this story could be the basis for an episode of "The X-Files." The spec script he wrote never made it to the "X-Files" writers' room but his friends at New Line read it and saw the potential for a good movie. Ironically, the script that was now called "Final Destination" ended up in the hands of James Wong and Glen Morgan, a duo best known for writing some of the freakier episodes of "The X-Files." Wong made his directorial debut with "Final Destination," which became a sleeper hit for New Line at the start of the new millennium. This would kick-off a new horror franchise for the House That Freddy Built.
High school senior Alex Browning is preparing to leave on a class trip to Paris, his best friend Tod in tow. A small mechanical malfunction aboard the plane sets off a catastrophic chain reaction that ends with all the passengers dying in a massive explosion... Or so Alex sees in an apparent psychic vision. Once minor details from his promotion start to come true, Alex freaks out. He starts a fight with class bully Carter that results in the two of them – along with Tod, Carter's girlfriend, teacher Miss Lewton, Alex's crush Clear, and some random guy named Billy – getting thrown off the plane. Afterwards, they all witness the Boeing going up in a massive fireball, Alex's premonition having saved their lives. However, an eerie feeling continues to float over the survivors. Tod dies shortly afterwards in a bizarre bathroom accident, that is mistaken for a suicide. Alex becomes convinced that all of them were meant to die on that plane and now Death itself is claiming each of them, one by one. When Carter's girlfriend and their teacher die in similarly strange mishaps, Alex becomes obsessed with what the mortician William Bludworth calls "Death's design." He seeks to interrupt the preordained series of events and save Clear, Carter, and his own life before Death comes for them again.
In one roundabout way or another, most horror movies are about the fear of death. All of our lives are destined to end someday, an inescapable fate none of us can avoid or have much control over. "Final Destination" is a horror movie about this idea in a much more literal way than most. An unexplained intervention prevents Alex from dying in a horrible accident but this is only a brief reprieve, the inevitability of death sure to catch up with him eventually. Rather than get too existential about it, "Final Destination" takes this idea in the far sillier direction of death being a personified concept with a strict plan that gets extra creative and vindictive when his carefully constructed pattern is interrupted. Alex becomes an obsessive conspiracy theorist type, seeing secret codes and patterns in the random events around him that he interprets as further evidence of "Death's design." If only he can decipher this code – presented almost literally as a puzzle, after the accident that caused the plane explosion reveals the order everyone was originally destined to die in – maybe he can prevent these events from happening. That this conviction makes Alex, functionally, indistinct from a raving lunatic is probably the closest thing "Final Destination" has to a wider thematic point. We're all going to die, sooner or later, and trying to outrun that fate leads only to madness. Better to live your life without agonizing too much about how you're gonna die. Or at least, as Clear does, channel those anxieties into personal art pieces rather than become a schizophrenic who sees a malevolent force eager to act all around him.
Rather than examine this idea from a philosophical direction, Wong and Morgan's film takes Alex's position. The script seems to operate from the perspective that death can be escaped, if only you read the clues right. Following that thought, "Final Destination" is a film littered with subconscious warnings about the characters' ultimate fate. The opening credits look over the model airplanes in Alex's bedroom, hinting at the soon-to-come crash. Before Miss Lewton is killed by an improbably falling butcher knife, a stained glass window over her shoulder depicts a sword floating above her head. A speeding bus or flying piece of shrapnel are preceded by reflections in windows or flashes of lights, signs that these events are forthcoming. Wong and his team are clearly seeking to create an ominous feeling, in hopes that the viewer will feel as paranoid as Alex does, surrounded by a sense that a horrible accident could claim your life at any minute. Which, I suppose, is indeed a possibility. These frequent visual reminders are paired with a melodramatic score from Shirley Walker – a composer best known for her work in the also exaggerated superhero genre – and a generally credulous tone throughout.
It's a bit overblown and more than a little bit silly, which is probably why an undercurrent of absurdity runs through "Final Destination." The film takes everything that happens very seriously despite it all being quite ridiculous, the dissonance creating a subtext of campy anticipation. I think Wong and company are in on the joke too. That the violent accidents in "Final Destination" happen as the result of elaborate chain reactions, a spontaneous Rube Goldberg machine that leads to somebody's grisly death, feels like a punchline to a steadily built-up joke. This is especially true for the series of unlikely events that result in a cord wrapping around a neck or a knife driven into a chest by a falling chair, combinations of such unlikeliness that you kind of have to laugh at them. When Kristen Cloke gets creamed by a randomly speeding bus or Sean William Scott is decapitated, it plays out like a physical gag. That "Final Destination" is only one step removed from a Raimian "splatstick" gore comedy doesn't prevent it from generating a grim tension in a few sequences. Most notably the opening plane crash, which piles misfortunes atop each other in a suitably out-of-control fashion that makes the viewer feel as caught up in this disaster as the characters. Or a mildly tense set piece of a car stopped on train tracks, which captures a little bit of that same panicked sensation.
The minute it's revealed that a character has the last name of Hitchcock, it's clear "Final Destination" is one of those movies that sprinkles in homages to horror history. Miss Lewton's first name is Val, about as blatant a reference as you can get. Browning, Chaney, Dreyer, Weine, Murnau and Schreck are the other familiar names tossed around. Despite these shout-outs to the classic era, "Final Destination" focusing on elaborate death scenes makes it more like a slasher film. This is also evident in the "Dawson's Creek"-ready cast of photogenic young actors. The performances range from vacant to silly. Bright-eyed Devon Sawa as Alex gets increasingly sweaty as the material gets broader. Kerr Smith as Carter is a blustering cartoonish bully, while Sean William Scott is playing a slightly only less silly version of his “American Pie” character. Ali Larter, as Clear, and Kerr Smith as Carter, as Tod, are mostly stiff and unconvincing. The character remain archetypal in their simplicity, as they typically do in a slasher, though the movie at least gets points for not being as outwardly dismissive towards them as a lot of similar films are. Tony Todd's character exists to deliver some exposition but Todd was such an artist with screen presence that he makes the goofy dialogue sound sinister and impressive.
By the way, “Final Destination'” origins as an “X-Files” spec script is still evident. The FBI agents floating around the margins of the story seem to suspect Alex might be a serial killer offing his friends or a terrorist who blew up the plane. The two have a scene, talking about whether the predictions of the future could exists, that you could easily slot Mulder and Scully into. It's not hard to imagine a version of this story with the investigator as the protagonists. Ending with a blunt cut-to-black that also operates as a pay-off to a sick joke, “Final Destination” takes the viewer out with a twisted smile on their face. It squanders a lot of potential with a shallow approach to its own ideas but remains a reasonably entertaining genre experience. Considering “Final Destination” came out during a time when slick “Scream” rip-offs made up a lot of the genre, the movie surely must've felt like a fresh approach at the time. It holds up fairly well. [7/10]
When future right-wing talk radio host and life-long hack Michael Medved named Edward D. Wood Jr. the “Worst Director of All Time” in 1980, he plucked the name out of obscurity and insured the filmmaker an undying cult following. Ed Wood doesn't merely have fans, he has devotees. I mean that almost literally, as Wood is at the center of a highly sarcastic but legally recognized religion. Wood archivists genuinely exist and they've unearthed lost works of his with some regularity. For example: It was long rumored that Wood had some involvement with 1976 trash-slasher “Meatcleaver Massacre” but, in 2022, cinematographer Roy H. Wagner confirmed that ol' Eddie boy basically directed the whole movie. That would make it the last Ed Wood movie, as he died three years later. First released as “Hollywood Meatcleaver Massacre,” the distributor later stitched on an introduction Christopher Lee had filmed for a totally unrelated project and chopped the “Hollywood” off the title. Now this utter obscurity is available on spiffy special edition Blu-Rays, both cuts bundled together and all cleaned up and full of special features. If only Ed had lived to seen it...
Professor Cantrell gives a lecture to his class about a Gaelic demon named Morak, said to be summoned to deliver bloody vengeance against those that have wronged another. Among Cantrell's class is Mason, an anti-social burn-out. That night, he meets up with his friends – long-haired hippy Sean, mechanic Dirk, sleaze ball Phil – and the group decides to pay Professor Cantrell a visit. Donning masks and wielding knives, they break into the man's house and brutally stab his wife and daughter to death. Contrell is left in a coma. From his hospital bed, his thoughts call out to Morak. Soon, Mason and his friends begin to experience bizarre hallucinations and nightmares. A demonic force is closing in and picking them off one by one. A police detective, who uncovered a triangular patch of cloth from Dirk's jacket at the crime scene, investigates.
In the same social media post where he confirmed that Wood directed most of the movie, Roy Wagner also revealed that shooting occurred over a four day period. This is evident, as the movie's narrative often operates as if it was made up along the way. We never learn anything about any of the character, all of them existing as thinly defined entities. Why Mason hates his college professor so much, or why he's such a belligerent psychopath in general, is never discussed. His friends seem to go along with the murderous plan on a whim. The plot, as it is, operates in an extremely simple, A-to-B fashion. This assholes kill a guy's family, he summons a demon to avenge them, and then they all die in supernatural ways. Despite that simplicity, “Meatcleaver Massacre” pads its slim 77 minute run time with lots of people walking around, hanging out in dingy apartments, or existing in various places of business. If you expect that subplot about the detective or the one guy's girlfriend working in a rub-and-tug massage parlor to amount to anything, you are definitely watching the wrong movie.
Not that such a slapped-together production, with a paper-thin plot and non-existent characters, would be atypical for an Edward D. Wood Jr. movie. However, the director often paired his zero budget production values and nonsensical scripts with bizarre dialogue and a spunky, do-it-yourself flow. “Meatcleaver Massacre” mostly lacks these qualities, perhaps owing to Wood being a last minute replacement and a barely functioning alcoholic at the time. Occasionally, however, a bit of that old Wood-ian weirdness emerges. Such as in a hilarious sequence where Dirk seems to seriously consider slashing his wrist with a straight razor before glancing at his watch and shouting, “I'm gonna be late for work!” Or a customer in that sleazy sex shop being either a priest or a man posing as a priest. Another highly quotable line is a doctor in a mental institute looking in at a cackling patient and declaring “This is my first nut!” Before Morak takes out each guy, they have strange nightmares or visions. One of which involves wandering through a misty funeral home and a dead body wrapped in a white sheet on a beach. The long-haired hippy is taken out after wandering into the desert, the scene cut in such a matter that it looks like he's been killed by the leaves of an agave plant. So that's pretty funny.
If “Meatcleaver Massacre” can be said to have any merits when taken as a stand-alone artifact, it is in the same way a lot of exploitation movies are: As an accidental time capsule of its time and place. There is a sequence, where Phil is walking down Sunset Avenue. The most famous landmark he passes is the Roxy Theater, which is advertising a late night screening of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” He also passes a lot of much sleazier venues and shops, showing pornography of varying degrees. Yes, “Meatcleaver Massacre” does have a little bit of that super greasy and washed-out atmosphere you find in extremely low budget and nasty grindhouse flicks of the time. There was definitely a Manson family influence on the home invasion premise, which was almost a decade out of date by the late seventies. However, the scraggly, long-haired, and polyestered actors – all of whom appear to be strung-out on one type of substance or another – does generate that seventies sense of nihilism. That the idealism of the sixties had failed and drugs and hedonism were all we got left with.
This is interesting but not enough to make up for “Meatcleaver Massacre” mostly being a total nothing-burger of a movie. The close-ups of the weird-ass paintings seen throughout are fun. When Morak kills a guy with a car hood latch, that was mildly entertaining. However, the “Meatcleaver Massacre” experience is mostly summed up by the Christopher Lee bookends. Lee intoning grimly about pseudo-mystical mumbo-jumbo for six minutes sounds fun, like “In Search Of...” if it was hosted by Dracula and not Spock. In actuality though, the Lee sequences are flatly shot and rather monotonous. If you give Wood credit for the movie, you can smell the boozy fumes coming off the entire project. The other people behind the film were screenwriter Keith Burns, whose only other credit is a TV clip-show about Ernie Kovacs. The second credited writer is Ray Atherton. He mostly worked as a producer with credits like “F.A.R.T. The Movie,” video tapes collecting violent accident footage, and a documentary about L.A. queer culture starring a physically disabled tap dancer that later spawned an internet meme. Oh, he also played the guy who gets killed with the TV in “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.” All of which implies that the behind-the-scenes details of “Meatcleaver Massacre” – no one is massacred with a meat cleaver, by the way – are more interesting than the actual movie itself. [4/10]
Boris Karloff hosted every episode of “Thriller,” of course, but he appeared as a character in the stories themselves a handful of times as well. Of these five appearances within “Thriller's” narratives, “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” is easily the best regarded. First Darren Dick York stars as Fred, a perpetually broke young man. Alongside his young wife, Molly, he drives to the estate of his rich uncle, Konrad. Konrad Markesan was a notable professor at the local college at one point and Fred and Molly hope he can help them find work, or at least provide them with a place to stay for a while. When the two arrive at the home, they find it dilapidated and slowly being consumed by the swamp around it. The house appears empty at first and, when Konrad finally does appear, his behavior is strange and his appearance is sickly. He allows the couple to stay in the home but under one condition: They must not roam around the house at night. He locks them into their bedroom every day at sundown to insure this. However, Molly and Fred are both curious about what's going on with Uncle Konrad. They soon break their promise to him and uncover that the old man has been performing unnatural experiments. Oh yeah, and that him and his work colleagues – also seen lurking around the house – have been dead for ten years.
“Thriller” was a series that often succeeded in bringing a classic horror atmosphere to the small screen. “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” excels in this regard and it's not surprising once you read that it was directed by Robert Florey. That's the same guy who directed “Murders in the Rue Morgue,” among the foggiest of Universal's mist-strewn classic monster movies. Florey worked in almost every genre over his long career but was especially good at the macabre stuff. “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” is awash with smoky fog. The climax features an old family crypt, reeking with age and clouded in darkness. The setting is primarily a crumbling old mansion, filled with shadows and dust. When Karloff first appears the title character, it's with waxy flesh and massive bags under his eyes. He's the first of a handful of similarly sunken-eyed ghouls that show up. This classically spooky ambiance is supported by moody cinematography that often adopts askew or stylized camera angles and a score that layers on the quivering strings and shrill shrieks. Karloff, meanwhile, is at his most sinister as an ancient old man that moves between utterly zombified and surprisingly threatening.
That “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” has such incredible atmosphere makes up for a story that is fairly predictable. The episode is adapted from a script by frequent Lovecraft colleague August Derleth. While there's no cosmic horrors about in this one, the premise of a younger man discovering a disturbing family secret created through profane scientific experiments isn't that far off from something Howard Phillips might have written. The reveal that his uncle is an undead ghoul of some sort isn't that shocking and it takes Fred entirely too long to figure that out. In general, the episode is a bit heavy on the young couple bickering.
However, there is something appealing about the classic set-up here, the “Bluebeard”-esque promise of comfort and security as long as someone simply doesn't explore further. The exact motivations of Markesan's experiments aren't revealed until the very end and remain a bit vague then too. The script works best when suggesting something weird and disturbing going on. Such as when Molly gets a glimpse of the old man forcing the other zombies to exhaustively repeat a speech praising him. Someone catching a glimpse of a weird, forbidden ritual that they don't understand but clearly realize they should not be seeing is a trope that almost always gives me the willies. Like most of the “Thriller” episodes I've seen, this does lead up to a properly chilling and surprisingly grim ending, which sends the viewer out on a fittingly creepy note. Doesn't hit quite as hard as “The Cheaters” or “The Hungry Glass” but still a nicely spooky hour of television. [7/10]
An early season one episode of “The Addams Family” was entitled “Gomez, the Politician” but was actually about the patriarch of the eccentric family canvasing for another politician altogether. The idea was revisited with “Gomez, the People's Choice.” Upon receiving the tax bill for their home, Gomez and Morticia are disgusted to see their stately manor is only worth 84 dollars. They head to the mayor's office to demand to pay more, only for the glad-handing politician to offer to lower their bill instead. Gomez is outraged and, upon seeing his political rant, Morticia talks him into running for mayor. His bizarre ideas prove surprisingly appealing to the public and his campaign starts to gain steam. So much so that Gomez becomes too distracted by his new career to pay proper attention to his wife. Morticia and the rest of the family conspire to undo Gomez' latest ambitions.
See, this is why the Addams Family are perhaps the only good millionaires: Not only do they pay their taxes, they demand to pay more than they owe! I can't imagine Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg ever trying to get into politics on that platform. As you'd probably expect, “The Addams Family” was not a series made for serious political commentary. Gomez' campaign is built entirely on nonsensical slogans. He spews a bunch of cliches and has Whizzo – the family super-computer introduced in “The Addams Family Splurges" – spit out topics for him to rant on. That's a surprisingly relevant message in our post-truth era, when a far less charming billionaire lunatic spouting completely inane bullshit somehow swindled his way into the White House twice. The Trump parallels become far more obvious in the second half. When Morticia and the others start attempting to sabotage Gomez' career with one scandal after another, his opponent realizes this will only make more popular with voters and immediately concedes. Very ahead of its time, that observation was.
The middle stretch of this episode does feel a little limp. The beginning – of the family all engaged in their wacky hobbies before the tax bill ruins their day – is a solid gag. The last third features some really funny bits. Morticia rattling off a series of French phrases that go unnoticed by her husband, consumed in his political rhetoric, and getting increasingly aghast at what is happening is a wonderful moment. As is Morticia's attempt to portrayed a battered wife, which falls apart the minute her husband starts kissing her arm, turning her cries of anguish into ones of ecstasy. See, the wacky relationships between these character is why I love this show! That same sequence features a good joke about Uncle Fester pretending to be an escaped criminal. I also like the reveal concerning where the Addams got the signatures needed to approve his political run. Needed more silliness like that and less scenes of Whizzo the computer blowing confetti and shooting steam. (Especially not when there's a suitably funny series of gags about smoking earlier in the episode.) [6/10]
Back in April, a confluence of events that climaxed with a solar eclipse had a certain strata of Christian Fundamentalists believing the Rapture was about to begin. It didn't – obviously – but, by coincidence, you could see a movie in theaters about the End Times starting that same day. A prequel to "The Omen" had been floated for a while, seeming close to happening before the Fox/Disney buyout. The newly renamed 20th Century Pictures has shown a surprising commitment to Fox's long-running horror franchises though and "The First Omen" was not shelved. Surprising everyone, this legacy prequel to a nearly fifty year old franchise ended up being rather well received. I have a nostalgic connection to "The Omen" series so, obviously, I had to check it out during this year's Blog-A-Thon.
Margaret Daino arrives in Rome in 1971, a time of political and social upheaval, to complete her vows and become a nun. She is stationed at the church-run Vizzardeli Orphanage. There, she quickly bonds with Carlita, a troubled young girl. Margaret had disturbing visions as a child too and sees a lot of herself in Carlita. That is when Margaret is approached by a priest named Father Brennan. He claims that there is a Satanic conspiracy within the Catholic Church to breed the Antichrist and that Carlita is at the center of it. Margaret doesn't believe him at first but increasingly strange activity at the orphanage convinces her that this story is true. And that Margaret is a lot closer to it then she realizes...
Anytime a modern day prequel is made to a classic film, there's always a big disconnect. Namely, movies made in 2024 do not look like movies made in 1976. You can tell director Arkasha Stevenson and cinematographer Aaron Morton took special efforts to remedy this. “The First Omen” frequently features a depth to its frames, a texture and grain, that you simply don't see in most modern horror movies. The cinematography of the original clearly wasn't the only inspiration here. Likely influenced by religious artwork and Rome's aged architecture, many of the film's images are carefully constructed to seem like paintings themselves. Such as an eerie nun stepping down a staircase, the positioning of the railing resembling the jaws of an animal. Or a kneeling figure reflected in a mirror as another woman enters the room in the background. Simply put, “The First Omen” is one of the best looking horror movies from a major studio that I've seen in a while.
Stevenson and her team doesn't simply create a good looking movie though. “The First Omen” takes its time to engineer an uncanny atmosphere, using the aesthetics of the Catholic Church – aged buildings, rituals hidden behind closed doors, an unquestionable structure of authority – to build dread early on. By the time the first major scare comes, of Margaret seeing a nun's habit leap to life, the film has more-than-earned the jump it gets out of the audience. “The First Omen” seems genuinely committed to putting freaky visuals on-screen. As Margaret witnesses a live birth, the focus remains on the mother's frantic face and quaking body. By the time the truly shocking pay-off to that sequence comes, the viewer is already deeply uncomfortable. Another sequence has Margaret experiencing a vision of an animal-like tongue being dragged across her face during a riot. Without a degree of distance or detachment, the film allows these freaky images to exist as visions right out of a nightmare. The mixture of graphic gore – a moment involving a sudden car crash is a notable example – and extended freakiness makes for a genuinely scary motion picture.
Cleverly, “The First Omen” doesn't depict the scheme to birth the Antichrist as operated by a shadowy, Satanic cabal. Instead, the apocalyptic plan originates within the Catholic Church itself, eager to create a threat that will drive people back to their branch of religion. This speaks to the film's themes of control. A reoccurring image throughout is of women bound, their ankles and wrists tied to tables and their face covered. Margaret's entire life has been engineered to keep her in the dark and under control, a cog in a plan far older than herself. The greatest manifestation of this plot is motherhood itself. “The First Omen” devotes a lot of time to turning the common facts of pregnancy into grotesque body horror, focusing on the stretched out bellies and slimy placentas. Womanhood is depicted as a prison, this specific conspiracy being a symbol of the wider forces in society that keep young girls trapped in roles where they can be easily controlled and coddled.
At the center of all of this is one hell of a lead performance. Nell Tiger Free has a very approachable looking face. This girl-next-door appearance makes her ideal for the role of a girl raised in the Church, an innocent being thrust into a dark world she can't conceive of. When that wide-eyed, innocent face twists into one of horrified terror, you really believe. Free commits fully to the material, giving a performance that is fearless in its lack of movie star glamour. This is most apparent in one of “The First Omen's” most impressive sequence, where Margaret goes into a full-body spasm. Though obviously inspired by Isabella Adjani's subway freak-out in “Possession,” Free's physical contortions are unsettling even without that reference point. All of this makes for a likable but deeply disturbed protagonist, who goes on a journey through hell that destroys her innocence but leaves her a more fully formed person.
Truthfully, this deeply personal approach that centers a woman's perspective makes “The First Omen” feel, at times, more like a homage to “Rosemary's Baby” than “The Omen.” The prequel is largely free of the elaborate death scenes that characterize the original series. Though unlikely to go unnoticed by anyone but hardcore fans like me, the script does contradict several plot points from the original movie. (Largely in order to set up events that could lead to more films.) Not to mention Ralph Ineson neither looks nor acts much like Patrick Troughton's Father Brennan in the original. However, when “Ave Satani” finally kicks in on the soundtrack, my patience was rewarded. “The First Omen” is Arkasha Stevenson's feature debut after mostly working on genre TV shows like “Brand New Cherry Flavor,” “Legion,” or “Channel Zero.” Likewise, Free is best known for series like “Servant” and “Game of Thrones.” I guess TV and streaming is, sometimes, a fertile breeding ground for new talent. “The First Omen” is so much better than it needed to be, more than an extension of an older franchise but an intense and clever horror film that easily stands on its own. [9/10]
Italian cinema has gifted many great auteurs to the world. Even if you narrow it down to the genre stuff I like, cutting out legends like Fellini or Bertolucci, you still have some of the most respected names to work in the biz. Of course, this gives a perhaps narrow view of the Italian film industry during its heyday. From the fifties all the way into the eighties, most Italian studios devoted themselves to chasing whatever trend was popular at the time. Gladiator movies were big for a bit, spaghetti westerns after that, so on and so forth. Antonio Margheriti is a typical example of a director from this time. He participated in all the major subgenres: Peplum, cowboys, Eurospy, Macaroni Combat, gialli, poliziotteschi, cannibals, direct rip-offs of American blockbusters, a mondo movie too. When gothic horror was briefly popular in the early sixties, Margheriti made those too. These efforts tend to be better remembered than most of his work. “The Virgin of Nuremburg,” given the far more generic title of “Horror Castle” in the U.S., shows he had a real flair for the morbid stuff.
Mary's husband, Max, moves her to his ancestral home in Nuremberg, Germany. The isolated castle out in the woods comes with a morbid history of its own. A notorious hooded killer called the Punisher tortured women there in the middle ages. Now, the castle is a museum to these macabre methods of execution. Mary is immediately put off by the creepy home and by Erich, the scarred caretaker. Soon, she finds herself stalked by a man in a red hood. Max assures her that he'll be able to explain everything. However, the masked murderer begins to prey on the other women in the castle, trying out the different relics of torture on them. Mary has to fight to survive in the walls of ancient fortress.
“Horror Castle” is ostensibly set in the modern day. People wear normal clothes in multiple scenes. There are cars, police officers, and a city that's only a quick drive away. However, most of the film is set within the walls of its titular location, a medieval castle. When Mary is wandering around stone corridors lit by candlelight, wearing only a flowing nightgown, it would be easy to mistake this for a period piece. I have no doubt that Margheriti and his team were intentionally hoping to invoke that feeling, of the dusty and obscure past. While the cinematography here isn't as intense as “The Horrible Dr. Hichcock” or Margheriti's own “Castle of Blood,” I still can't help but love the visual ambiance on display. I guess, if you have a glamorous actress in a willowy gown, exploring a creepy manor, all filmed in grainy but bright Technicolor, I'm predisposed to enjoy it.
“The Virgin of Nuremburg” was adapted from a salacious pulp crime novel, one of a popular series of such books. These are origins similar to the giallo, which the film vaguely resemble. In fact, you could call “Horror Castle” a proto-slasher of sorts. It has a masked killer stalking people in an isolated location, picking off his victims one by one. While the so-called Punisher is a lot chattier than most masked slashers, his red hood wouldn't be out of place in the eighties. Like later, more graphic horror films, the focus here is frequently on methods of execution. The iron maiden – from which the original title is derived – puts in an appearance. Alongside a rat cage that attaches to the face, some gnarly looking hooks, and a chamber that slowly fills with water. By modern standards, the movie is not especially gory. However, the emphasis on sadism definitely gives the film more of an edge than many of its contemporaries.
Like the gialli that would come later, there is a mystery element to “The Virgin of Nuremburg.” At one point, Mary finds her husband in the killer's red hood, making us wonder if he could be the deranged murder. He is but one of a string of red herrings the movie presents. Christopher Lee as the groundskeeper, with his scarred face and collection of medieval weapons, sure is suspicious. As is the detective that Mary catches sneaking around the castle grounds. Eventually, “Horror Castle” confounds expectations by going in an altogether more lurid direction for the big reveal. The film connects its story to World War II, Nazism, and the sins of the past being revisited on the present. Growing more grotesque the more we see, it's a hell of a last minute twist. This is exactly the kind of thing I watch Eurohorror flicks for.
Rossana Podesta makes for a decent heroine for this kind of story, gorgeous but utterly naïve and innocent. Her and her husband never sleep in the same bed together, furthering the virginal feeling around her. Lee doesn't get too much to do, his performance being further disguised by the mediocre dub. Still, his presence is always imposing and welcomed. Riz Ortolani contributes a score that is equal parts jazzy and melodramatic, often blaring during any of the shocks or scares. Still, a memorable villain, some nasty toys of torment, and typically gorgeous cinematography and set dressing makes “Horror Castle” a decently entertaining slice of Eurohorror. [7/10]
“Meet the Belaskos” takes place in a world where vampires are known to exist and have peacefully integrated with living society. A family named the Belaskos move into a new neighborhood, which greatly annoys their teenage daughter Anna. She soon develops a romance with Alex, the human boy who lives next door. Unfortunately, Alex's dad is an anti-vampire bigot. When dad decides to commit a Van Helsing hate crime, the two teens plan to run away together. The undead hunting posse find them first, leading to a bloody confrontation.
“Meet the Belaskos” starts with a cool, Hammer style dream sequence, showing that John Esposito – the screenwriter of “Graveyard Shift” and “Right to Die” making his directorial debut – has the skills. However, this is another episode undone by an uncertain tone. The set-up of a wholesome vampire family next door is obviously flippant. As is the cartoonish bigotry Alex's dad shows towards them. However, the romance between the teens is played straight. In its final act, “Meet the Belaskos” gets gravely serious, leading towards a tragic ending. It's kind of hard to square off such a downbeat conclusion with the comedic first half. Still, “Meet the Belaskos' does feature some cool gore effects, a decent vampire transformation, and is a little sexier than your typical episode of “Creepshow.”
In “Cheat Code,” grieving dad Jeff uncovers a video game from his childhood called “Weird Wednesday.” His teenage son, Dave, is an experienced modern gamer that dismisses the 8-bit cartage at first. However, Dave soon becomes obsessed with mastering the supposedly unbeatable game. He introduces it to his gamer friends, who buy their own copy off the internet. This copy of “Weird Wednesday” comes with a cheat code and a supposedly cursed backstory. While playing through it, Dave and his friends begin to notice strange details. Like new characters appearing, as their friend Spencer disappears. When Dave puts in the cheat code himself, “Weird Wednesday” reveals itself as much more than an innocent video game.
There's a number of internet creepypastas about cursed video games that “Cheat Code” was probably inspired by. “Weird Wednesday” looks like a cutesy platformer but features graphic gore. The kids keep playing the game, it's clear that something weird is going on. They ignore the supposed curse. The episode also weaves the Atari graveyard legend into its backstory. Like many of those internet tall tales, it's difficult to take this episode too seriously. Once Dave gets linked with the game, the scenes of him walking down the street in a vertical line and dodging deadly, every day objects are clearly silly. The over-the-top death scenes are not meant to inspire chills. However, the dramatic center of the episode – Dave's bond with his dad – is played straight in a very schmaltzy fashion. Lochlyn Munro's performance is corny. If not for the blood and guts and some four-letter words, “Cheat Code” would basically feel like an episode of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” That's not the worst thing in the word but also not quite what I imagined from “Creepshow” taking on the cursed video game premise. If nothing else, at least “Weird Wednesday” seems like a real video game people might want to play, as opposed to most fictional games on TV shows. Perhaps it is more 16-bit than 8-bit, which also doesn't match up with the Atari style joysticks the game is played with... [Meet the Belaskos: 6.5/10 / Cheat Code: 6/10]
As Halloween arrives, the White House throws a lavish costume party. Lexy has convinced Grant to get invitations for her, Jake, and Devon. They immediately resume their hunt for Chucky. The doll – dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, the same costume Joseph wore during his last Halloween – continues to manipulate the president's young son. He uses the party to stage his most fiendish set of homicides yet. Meanwhile, in Texas, Tiffany Valentine is moved to a new prison. She is finally given her possessions, including some voodoo dolls, which she quickly uses to take revenge on another prisoner and to plot her escape.
The “Chucky” showrunners always try to make events of their Halloween episodes and “Dressed to Kill” might be their biggest. The White House Halloween party allows for lots of extras in colorful costumes, with a live band and elaborate scenery. This also allows for some cute horror homages. Clips from “Bride of Frankenstein” put in an excellent appearance. Lexy wears a an in-universe example of a Good Guys Doll costume, allowing this franchise to acknowledge the Sexy Chucky costumes you see every October. Chucky dressing up as the Phantom pays off fantastically in two aspects. Firstly, there's a hilarious and fittingly operatic final reveal. Secondly, the episode does its own spin on the famous chandelier drop. The results are lots more sickening gore, “Chucky” continuing to prove that basic cable can get away with just about anything, I guess, as far as violence goes these day. There's a moment here that audibly made me groan from its nastiness.
As much as “Chucky” has tried to invest in the other characters, it's always clear who the star of this show is. A portion where Devon Sawa's president chases after a spectre of his late son never goes anywhere. While it's fun to see Jake and the gang investigating around the White House, they are nothing much but observers in this episode. Henry gets a quirky babysitter, who unsurprisingly does not make it to the end of this episode. Ultimately, Brad Dourif as Chucky is who shines here. The doll is getting more to do as the season goes on, fully conversing with Henry now and getting multiple sarcastic comments to himself. The final line of the episode is both hilarious, because of how absurd this situation is, but also meaningful simply because it's impossible for Dourif not to put so much effort and emotion in his acting.
The Tiffany subplot does not seem as essential to the story as everything else happening. However, seeing Jennifer Tilly camp it up is always a blast. Nia Vardalos appears we this week's special celebrity victim, as a famous chief that quickly befriends and then turns on Tiff in prison. The voodoo assisted murder that follows is delightfully ridiculous and absurd, ending with another especially goopy bit of gore. The classic horror style is turned up in these scenes too, Tilly gleefully cackling as she performs her voodoo rituals with some crudely knotted dolls. Is this particular subplot going to contribute to the overall story any time soon? I guess we'll see. However, at this moment, season three of “Chucky” is still delivering the goods. [7/10]
