Halloween 2024: September 7th

Longlegs (2024)

Probably helped out by being the son of Norman Bates, Oz Perkins has quickly established a specific brand for himself as a genre filmmaker. "The Blackcoat's Daughter" and "I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House" were high on eerie ambiance, isolation, and precise set design. Perkins finally combined that with a compelling narrative and characters with interior lives in "Gretel & Hansel," the first of his films I actually loved. This got me excited for his next feature, "Longlegs," especially once I read that it starred Nicolas Cage as a serial killer. Largely thanks to an effectively creepy marketing campaign, distributor NEON built up a good degree of hype for the film this past July and made it a surprise hit. This is atop some hyperbolic reviews that called the film the scariest to appear in quite a while. Now that the dust has settled, what's my takeaway on this one? 

FBI agent Lee Harker displays ambiguous clairvoyant powers during a manhunt. This causes Supervisor Carter to assign her to the bureau's most baffling case. Since the sixties, there have been a string of incidents where a father would massacre his family before killing himself. At the scene of the crime, an encoded letter signed by "Longlegs" is left, despite no signs of forced entry. Lee studies the evidence and quickly connects the cases, each murder occurring near the 9th birthday of each family's daughter. Further investigation reveals occult symbolism in this pattern, with Harker and Carter uncovering a strange doll patterned after the family's daughter at one of the crime scenes. The deeper into the case Lee goes, the closer she comes to encountering the strange man behind the killings, his otherworldly motivations, and the personal connection she has to these events. 

From a technical perspective, there's a lot to admire about "Longlegs." Once again, Perkins engineers an unsettling atmosphere of quiet dread from the opening frame onward. This is largely accomplished by a sound design full of slowly mounting discordant noise, that constantly leaves the audience on-edge. That's actually a plot point, as a mysterious silver orb that generates ominous whispering appears in several scenes. This is paired with a visual perspective that emphasizes stillness, distance, and isolation. Characters often appear as obscured figures in painting-like landscapes, surrounded by shadows, snow, or stray streaks of light. (Frequently via eye-like windows, symmetrically placed as if on a face.) Flashbacks are always framed in tight, Academy ratio, making them appear even more like broadcast from nightmares. That constant stillness is often broken up by assaultive bursts. This may be through sudden acts of graphic violence, a reveal of a grotesque rotting corpse, or red-tinged visions flashing on-screen.

In other words, many of the ingredients for a successfully distressing horror film are present here. And "Longlegs" certainly is creepy, often overwhelming the viewer into a state of discomfort through its visual and aural suggestions. However, as a narrative experience and piece of cinematic art, I found the film to be frustrating. Like Perkins' first two features, the movie takes a vague approach to its own story. We don't learn Longlegs' modus operandi until twenty minutes or so before the end. The mechanics of how the killer operates are fairly simple, by the standard of fictional occult serial killers/black magicians. The script takes a needlessly roundabout way to revealing this, bogging its story down in ritualistic symbols, algorithms, and codes that the protagonist must unravel. Certain elements are left largely vague – such as the nature of Lee's apparent psychic powers – while other parts are explained via lengthy expositonary scenes. All of this combines with glacial pacing, heavy on long silences and meaningful glares. "Longlegs" is paced like a nightmare, it's true. This means it is unsettling and that it is composed of two hours that feel like four.

The film approaching its own material in such a deliberately  evasive manner makes it difficult for the viewer to get a grip on its intentions. The witchcraft element, of Longlegs being an unrepentant Satanist, never quite gels with me. Considering the movie is also set during the nineties – established via that old trick of prominently placing a photo of the then-president in as many shots as possible – it feels like an unironic invoking of the Satanic Panic that never once stops to consider the cultural baggage of that phenomenon. Giving the killer the Zodiac-like gimmick of leaving encoded messages at the crime scene adds a puzzle-like structure, frustrated by the murderer's identity being flatly revealed when he gives himself up to the FBI without a fight. He builds creepy dolls but the movie isn't about creepy dolls, that element merely being more unsettling set dressing on a fairly straightforward story. The specific patterns and rituals of Longlegs' actions suggest he's trying to achieve some ultimate goal, furthered by the cryptic things he says, but that's never revealed. And why does he call himself Longlegs anyway? What the fuck does that mean? Perhaps making us ask "why" is exactly the point but piling your movie up with symbols that never seem to have a meaning results in meaningless symbols. 

A snippet from an interview where Perkins admits that the film was inspired by his own mother – Tony's longtime beard Berry Berenson, who died in the September 11th attacks – is the closest Rosetta Stone I can find to unravelling "Longlegs." The birthdays of daughters is the reoccurring thread that connects all of the killer's victims. The glimpses we get of Lee's mother, which increase throughout the film, hint at a smothering, emotionally manipulative relationship. When one of the family slaughters occur on-screen in the last act, it feels all the world like a domestic incident performed by an abusive, short-tempered dad. Despite his outwardly effeminate features, Longlegs himself operates as something like a twisted absentee father figure to Lee, as this distant image from her past that sends her letters every once in a while. I guess that means his chosen nickname is short for Daddy Longlegs? As if there's any doubt of this persistent subtext, the killer's favorite music seems to be seventies glam rock, a very Dad-ish genre. None of these ideas seem to convalesce into a coherent meaning to me, acting instead as undercurrents that operate as part of the film's dream logic, connecting some of its twists and turns. 

For Nicolas Cage fans, the film is certainly worth seeing. Cage, glimpsed only in quick flashes or from a distance for the first half, wears a disturbing make-up that makes him look like the cross between a porcelain doll, Tiny Tim, and a plastic surgery addict. He shrieks, winces, twitches, dances, and babbles in a falsetto in a way that only Cage could do and make equally unnerving and hilarious. Maika Monroe, as Lee, is charmingly weird as a woman so hyper-focused on her obsessions and socially awkward that she reads as on-the-spectrum. I would've liked to have gotten more peeks at her inner life. Blair Underwood makes a compelling straight man to the story's weird events, as her supervisor. Alicia Witt, as Lee's mother, probably does the best job of giving her character a complicated inner life, as we learn more about her past.

I guess the kind of emotional coldness that Perkins specializes in is hard for me to jive with. The film's standout sequences of gory special effects are effective. The swallowing atmosphere of dread engineered throughout is impressive. The cast, cinematographer, sound designer, and production artists all do excellent work. However, "Longlegs" so intentionally denying us any insight into its characters, their motives, or the events that starts these dominos falling makes it hard for me to truly connect with the movie. Maybe Perkins' next gig, a mainstream Stephen King adaptation, will work better for me. Maybe this is a filmmaker who needs to place his ideas within a recognizable story structure, like a fairy tale or a Kingian ghost story, for me to link to his work. Because I came away from "Longlegs" admiring it more as a technical achievement than as a piece of storytelling. [7/10]

Shock (1946)

Vincent Price never set out to become best known for playing villains, much less primarily associated with the horror genre. If you look at his early parts, it's mostly handsome leading man roles and supporting characters in various noirs. That all changed with "Shock," a little, noir-tinged psycho thriller that turned a modest profit for Fox in 1946. This proved that audiences most liked to see the actor playing sinister ne'er-do-wells, setting him on the road towards horror stardom. Price never had much positive to say about the movie. In Victoria Price's biography on her dad, she said he derisively referred to the movie as "Schlock." Yet I had never seen it before and decided now was the time to check it out.

While awaiting her prisoner-of-war husband's return home, Janet nervously sits in a hotel room. From the window, she sees a man bludgeon his wife to death with a candle stick. The shock of this sight leaves Janet in a catatonic state. Her husband calls for the doctor staying in the hotel, Dr. Cross... Who happens to be the murderous man Janet saw. Quickly figuring out what happened, Cross has Janet committed to his clinic. Conspiring with his nurse, who is also his mistress, Cross tries to get Janet to forget what she saw. When she starts to directly accuse the doctor of murder, Cross plots to get rid of the sole witness to his crime for good. 

"Shock" is another entry in the long line of films about duplicitous men trying to convince women they are crazy, in order to cover up their own crimes. Considering it came out only two years after George Cukor's "Gaslight," "Shock" was probably directly inspired by it. That term has since passed into common usage, to describe any time a man tries to make a woman doubt her own perception. The film ups the manipulation level by having the gaslighting man be the woman's doctor, giving him even more power over her. Unfortunately, and strangely, "Shock" downplays Janet's role in the story that should have been her's. Anabel Shaw – doe-eyed, good at panicking, fourth billed – spends most of the movie laying in bed, half unconscious. Instead of focusing on the fear and doubt she must feel, trying to convince everyone that she didn't imagine seeing a murder, "Shock" devotes far more scenes to Dr. Cross and Elaine plotting and working to throw doubt on their own role in the murder. This is frustrating, when a more compelling story is right there within the movie, waiting to be explored. 

Instead, this really is Price's movie. Unlike the campy bad guy roles he'd later become famous for, Vincent mostly underplays it here. There's a moment when someone suggests that Dr. Cross might have had some role in what Janet saw and you can see the sense of panic briefly crosses Price's face. His great talent for saying one thing but clearly feeling another is apparent during a tense meeting with a detective. Despite being a murderer, "Shock" weirdly plays Cross as a sympathetic character. He talks about coming clean multiple times, clearly feeling conflicted about his actions. It's Lynn Bari as Elaine, the scheming Lady MacBeth/femme fatale, that continuously pushes him towards more wicked actions. This points towards "Shock's" less-than-stellar politics, that repeatedly center the men in a story about a woman's plight. That marks this film as truly a product of 1946. As a fan of Vincent Price, seeing a more nuanced, layered take on the type of murdering, bitter husbands he would play many other times is quite interesting. 

If it isn't obvious by now, "Shock" definitely resides more on the noir side of the horror/noir divide. However, there are some moments here to interest fans of the macabre, outside of Price's presence. Early on, Janet has an eerie, misty nightmare where she runs towards a door that keeps bigger and further away. There's a key sequence where a thunderstorm rages outside the mental institution. A disturbed patient escapes, sneaks downstairs, and attacks Elaine in Janet's room. It's definitely the most stylishly directed episode in the film, with some extremely good use of shadows and clever shot composition. In general, "Shock" gets a little more macabre and hysterical as it goes on, even if it never nudges into full-on horror. Director Alfred L. Werk also made "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" and "A-Haunting We Will Go," so he had some experience with horror-adjacent projects.  

"Shock" is in the public domain, so many low quality copies of the film circulate around all over the place. (Often paired with that other Price-starring public domain favorite, "House on Haunted Hill.") Luckily, a nice restored edition was put out on disc as part of Fox's Classic Noir Collection, so you can find a decent looking print of the movie with minimal effort. By no means a classic – and barely qualifying for a marathon of creepy movies – "Shock" is definitely still worth seeking out for Vincent Price fans. You can see the beginning of his style as an actor formulating here while losing out on none of the star presence that made him such an irresistible presence in so many films. Add in some nifty cinematography and it gets a recommendation from me. [7/10]

Creepshow: George Romero in 3D/Baby Teeth

It seems “Creepshow,” or maybe Greg Nicotero specifically, has to pay homage to its forefathers at least once a season. The required referential episode arrives with “George Romero in 3D.” Sarah's brick-and-motor book store is failing, amid pressure from their asshole landlord. That's when her horror nerd son, Martin, discovers a crate containing unpublished comic books written by George Romero. Such priceless collectables could save the business but Martin has to put on the 3-D glasses contained within the comics... Which causes the zombies from within the pages to leap into reality. And they're only visible with the glasses on. Luckily, the pages also contain a facsimile of George Romero himself, who is willing to help the kid.

As far as “Creepshow's” overly meta episodes go, “George Romero in 3D” is less suffocatingly smug than “Skeletons in the Closet” and stands alone better than “Night of the Living Late Show.” The monster kid hero, played by Graham Verchere, is mildly likable and resists dropping a movie title every five minutes. (Though his name, Martin, is one of several obvious Romero homages here.) The central gimmick, the zombies being invisible unless you look at them through the 3D glasses, leads to some interesting gore sequences. The zombies themselves are, like classical Romero ghouls, more intelligent than your average shambler too, allowing the threat level to increase as the episode goes along. Sebastian Kroon plays Romero, as an avuncular but humble figure that peppers his sentence with outdated slang. I also like the “Take On Me” style animation placed over top him. It is kind of weird that they chose comics as the medium here, which Romero didn't work in until much later in his career. What if the kids had found the script for “Diamond Dead” instead? 

“Baby Teeth” begins with teenager Shelby getting her wisdom teeth pulled, the latest in a long line of signifiers that she's growing up. This greatly upsets her clinging, needy mother, Miranda. Miranda demands to keep the extracted teeth in a special box with all of Shelby's baby teeth, part of a life-long belief in the Tooth Fairy. In fact, Miranda's whole house is filled with superstitious iconography: Iron nails sewn into clothes, horse shoes over doorways. Miranda has been a believer in the fair folk her whole life, convinced her mother was taken away by fairies when she was a girl. As part of her teenage rebellion, Shelby rejects these beliefs and smashes the box holding her teeth. This unleashes the spirits her mother has been trying to keep at bay her whole life.

“Baby Teeth” is based in an anxiety most anyone can relate to. Every kid grows up and comes into conflict with their parents. Every parent has to accept that their offspring isn't their little baby anymore. Miranda, played by a nicely neurotic Rochelle Greenwood, is sympathetic as it becomes clear how much of her anxious personality has been molded by a life of loss and abandonment. Her obsessive clinginess is also rightfully off-putting. This makes us feel bad for Shelby, allowing her bratty, rebellious teenager shenanigans to be more tolerable. The way the script slowly reveals the folkloric aspect of its premise are well done. A folk horror spin on the Tooth Fairy is one I'm surprise I haven't seen before. The episode also features probably the gooiest, grossest monster of “Creepshow's” fourth season. Like too many of this season's episodes, it fumbles the ending. This is another “Creepshow” installment that proves John Harrison is probably this series' most consistent director. [George Romero in 3-D: 6/10 / Baby Teeth: 7/10]

Chucky: Panic Room

Having ripped President Collins' eyes out and stolen his access card, “Panic Room” sees Chucky going after the big ones: Nuclear weapons. Warren Pryce replaces the President with a double, as part of a massive cover-up that deeply disturbs the First Lady. (Who is still seeing ghost around the White House.) The fake president and Henry are soon being held at gunpoint by an aging, homicidal doll. On the same day, Lexy manages to talk Grant into letting her, Devon, and Jake come to the White House. They reveal the truth about why they are there, Lexy determined to find out where her sister is before Charles Lee Ray shuffles off this mortal coil forever. It all ends with a tense confrontation in the Situation Room. 

Earlier, I said I hoped season three of “Chucky” would take the White House cover-up angle in increasingly wacky directions. I'm glad to say this has come to pass. When Pryce brings in a look-a-like to play the now deceased President, he reveals that this is not an altogether uncommon experience. That intelligence agencies perform all sorts of operations to insure the government remains running smoothly. Yes, this show is arguing for the existence of the Deep State. (Pryce also says supernatural events are discreetly handled by the government all the time too, so it's also arguing for the existence of the X-Files.) But “Chucky” being a smart-ass comedy, it quickly reveals the presidential doppelganger to be a nerdy, socially awkward actor type just happy to have this chance. That allows Devon Sawa to get some of the biggest laughs he's had over his three years on this show. 

When it was announced that “Chucky: Season Three” would head to Washington, my first thought is that the doll would eventually try and get his tiny, plastic hands on some nukes. “Panic Room” runs with this idea, devoting its second half to Chucky trying to spend his last hours alive starting World War III and becoming the most prolific serial killer in history. I suppose it's natural that the tight, metallic interior of the Situation Room would lead to a rise in tension. As NORAD prepares to launch WMDs, the episode actually gets suspenseful. Knowing how crazy “Chucky” is willing to get, I truly wondered how far they'd take things. Amusingly, the smart-ass doll picks an unexpected third target... I won't spoil things but it leads to easily the best punchline this season has given us yet.

Needless to say: Decrepit, dying Chucky is all out of fucks to give. While this could've seen Brad Dourif take the character in a more nihilistic direction, he remains a sarcastic little bastard up until the end. Watching this pint-sized rubber psycho threaten people and makes quips about pizza cutters, gun safety, and his mother remains delightful to me. No matter how goofy Chucky's one-liners get, the show never undersells what a threat he remains. As he slams a pen into a secret service agent's skull, describing what parts of the brain he is severing, it's a testament to the amount of genuinely sinister energy this absurd character have been gifted over the years. Around the time this episode aired, it was announced that Brad Dourif was retiring from acting. That retirement doesn't extend to any future “Chucky” projects, “Panic Room” still feels like a tribute to the great actor. 

While this episode features plenty of great killer doll action, it does spend a lot of time on the subplots. God help me, I think I'm actually invested in these characters now. Charlotte being increasingly freaked-out by the paranormal activity in the Oval Office allows Lara Jean Chorostecki to do some fine acting. She's got an excellent pair of crazy eyes, I'm now noticing. While Grant is probably the least exciting new character this season, there's a scene here between him and Lexy – where they sit at a piano and sing “Don't Fear the Reaper” – that is genuinely adorable. I think I might actually be rooting for those two now? That “Chucky” wraps up its biggest plot thread with two episodes left to go does suggest season three isn't done making some big swings. I'm looking forward to where this is all going next. [8/10]

Halloween 2024: September 6th

Stopmotion (2023)

If you've searched around the weird side of Youtube long enough, you've probably run into the short films of Robert Morgan. Morgan has been uploading his bizarre stop-motion animation to the web since at least 2009. Shorts like “The Cat with Hands,” “The Separation,” and “Belial's Dream” are characterized by disturbingly fleshy puppets engaging in unsettling behavior. I find some of his films quite entertaining and some borderline incoherent. Still, there's no denying that Morgan is a unique voice in the genre. Morgan's work has played in theaters before – he contributed a segment to “The ABCs of Death 2,” for one example – but he made his feature length debut this year. As the title indicates, “Stopmotion” utilizes his trademark style of animation into a bigger story. 

Suzanne Blake is a stop-motion animator of some esteem. However, in her old age, she has develop arthritis that prevents her from moving and sculpting the models. She enlists her daughter, Ella, to complete her latest film. When Blake has a stroke, Ella is compelled to finish her mom's work. Moving into an isolated apartment, she gets to work... But is soon visited by a little girl, who encourages her to begin work on a different film. This one tells the story of a young girl pursued by a monster called the Ash Man. The new project takes over Ella's life, the woman going to increasingly disturbing lengths to finish telling this story. Before long, the lines between fact and fiction, reality and hallucination, begin to blur. 

Like I said, Robert Morgan's shorts have an extremely distinctive look, influenced far more by Jan Svankmajer and the Brothers Quay than Will Vinton or Aardman. Even when compared to the stop-motion grotesquery of “Mad God,” Morgan's work is especially creepy to look at. His models have a flesh-like quality to them, always shiny with grease or covered with peach fuzz. They inhabit earthy, desolate environments. Obviously, this same quality is brought to Morgan's feature. The puppets in “Stopmotion” are globs of tumorous meat, with crude little faces, ratty hair, and exposed sinew. This is acknowledged in-universe, as Ella builds her creations from rotten meat and dead animals. Combined with the already eerie twitchiness of stop-motion animation makes these character even more uncomfortable to look at. Building a whole horror movie around such visuals isn't a bad idea at all. The figures in “Stopmotion” are so gross looking that Google automatically blocks images of them as “explicit content,” apparently mistaking the puppets for gory photographs.

Upon this extremely unsettling foundation, Morgan and co-writer Robin King have built a narrative about a descent into madness. As Ella grows more obsessed with completing her film, the more cut-off from other people she becomes. The minute the little girl starts to intrude into Ella's apartment, the audience has an idea of where this is going. While at a night club, she takes some acid and has a creepy vision involving a ventriloquist dummy. “Stopmotion” continues on like that. There's no doubt that the visuals “Stopmotion” employs to show this decomposition are unnerving. Notable moments have Ella's legs turning into clay, her digging through her own thigh, and the Ash Man appearing at her door. Ultimately, “Stopmotion” lacks the sympathetic element similar, but superior, movies like “May” or “Excision” bring to their unhinged female protagonists. Ella is so remote and focused on creating her films, the movie rarely stepping outside her apartment, that we don't get a sense of any other social isolation or awkwardness she might feel. It makes her fall towards madness, murder, and self-destruction a lot less meaningful.

None of this is the fault of the cast. Aisling Franciosi plays Ella. As she displayed in “The Nightingale,” Franciosi brings a great intense to all of her roles. Her eyes stare ahead with a fixed scrutiny, her body language as controlled as the puppets she animates. She becomes enraged at a colleague for plagiarizing her work, you really believe it. Also impressive is Caoilinn Springall as the little girl, who mixes an approprite amount of child-like adorableness with something a lot more foreboding. I do wish the film had given us more of a look at Ella interacting positively with her boyfriend – who seems like a tool – and the other people in her life. She starts the film out in a bad place and it only gets much, much worst from there. 

I certainly can't deny that “Stopmotion” is ambitious. Outside of its mixture of live action and animation – surely a challenge of its own – the movie tackles a number of themes. From the beginning, Ella's mother refers to her as “puppet.” This term of endearment barely hides the truth of a controlling mother who sees her own child as nothing but an extension of herself. It's clear that part of Ella's madness is spurned on by the grief of loosing a parent she has a lot of mixed feelings about. The film is also about the artist's relationship with their output. At what point are we controlling our creations and when do they start to control us? Artist routinely sacrifice everything for the sake of their work, suggesting an uneven push-and-pull exists between the maker and the made. When you live and breathe your work, it will consumed you eventually, which “Stopmotion” makes rather literal by the end.

In its best moments, “Stopmotion” is a deeply eerie depiction of art overtaking the artist and psychological baggage with two strongly realized performances at its center. Like Morgan's best short films, it features unnerving visuals that seem to have emerged fully formed from the director's subconscious. Also like a lot of Morgan's work, “Stopmotion” gets a bit lost in its own sauce at times, foregrounding its nightmarish metaphors over telling a more straight-forward – or more personally realized – narrative. Still, we're unlikely to see anything else this year exactly like it and, for that alone, “Stopmotion” deserves a recommendation. I mean, if “Mad God” kicked off a wave of weirdo stop-motion animated horror movies, and this is the second example of that, I can't help but applaud its existence. [7/10]

The Ghoul (1975)

Hammer Studio's greatest stars both always seemed somewhat reluctant to accept their status as horror icons. Christopher Lee eventually grew to resent the studio that made him famous. Though he was always professional about the many genre films he continued to appear in, you often got the impression that he'd rather be playing different roles. Peter Cushing seemed a little more willing to accept his typecasting. In his autobiography, he wrote that “Who wants to see me as Hamlet? Very few. But millions want to see me as Frankenstein, so that's the one I do.” And so Cushing continued to headline monster movies. Such as 1975's “The Ghoul,” a somewhat late attempt to replicate the Hammer formula by Tyburn Film Productions. The comparison seemed deliberate on the studio's behalf, as they got Freddie Francis to direct and Veronica Carlson to co-star. 

Daphne and Geoffrey throw a wild party for their friends in the British countryside. This soon escalates to a car race, in their 1920s automobiles, across the moors. As the fog thickens, the couple get lost and run out of gas. Daphne looks for help and soon ends up at the mansion of a mysterious man called Lawrence. A heartbroken widower, Lawrence is clearly keeping some sort of secret. His Indian housekeeper Ayah gives ominous warnings and prays at a creepy statue. The sleazy groundskeeper, Tom, seems untrustworthy. After staying in the house for the night, Daphne is murdered by an unseen occupant of the home. As Geoffrey and their other friends eventually make it to the house, it becomes clear that Lawrence is keeping a murderous, cannibalistic monster locked up in his attic.

Many a macabre story has benefitted from the setting of the English moors. The foggy, desolate land always emphasizes feelings of dread and isolation. “The Ghoul” adds to this location a sprawling country manner full of secrets. It then fills that house with a ramshackle ensembles of characters, wandering in and out of both its rooms and the plot. Yes, “The Ghoul” is one of those movies were people come and go until things happen to them. Such unlikely events include taking a nap in a car abandoned on the moors, bumping their head on a steering wheel, and stepping into some quicksand. Veronica Carlson's Daphne – ostensibly the film's heroine, up to that point – being killed halfway through was obviously intended as a “Psycho” style twist that would catch audience's off-guard. In practice, however, it simply feels like another example of the movie's haphazard screenwriting. 

The only thing holding this rough assembly of incidents together are two decent performances. Peter Cushing plays Lawrence not as a sinister villain hiding a dark secret but as a heartbroken family man desperate to hold onto the past. Cushing gets misty-eyed when delivering monologues about his deceased wife and his missing son. Within the film, it's all foreshadowing. However, Cushing made this movie shortly after his wife died, a heartbreak that he would never recover from. No wonder Lawrence's tear-strewn desperation seems so raw and realistic. The actor was experiencing the same emotions. Opposite Cushing is John Hurt, only thirty-four at the time but as raspy sounding as ever. The film never quite justifies what Tom is doing at this home, especially since he's clearly a creep. He steals food from the kitchen, harasses every woman he meets, and seems to delight in frightening anyone who comes near him. Hurt goes way over-the-top to play such an aggressively unlikable character, growling and hooting all throughout the film. He's honestly much more of an antagonist than the titular green-faced monster, which only appears in a few scenes.

If Tom's presence in the story speaks to anything, it's a vague subtext towards class division. Lawrence and everyone else that enters the mansion are clearly rich. Tom, who lives in a shack filled with animals on the grounds, obviously is not. That makes the resentment and envy he feels towards the upper class easy to understand. This subtext never connects to the monster or any other element of the film. In fact, the killer is linked to Ayah's Indian heritage in some way that's not fully defined. Ayah doesn't speak clear English and the film treats her beliefs as something strange and exotic. The way she prays to a statue of Kali and lights incense is contrasted with Lawrence's devout Christianity. "The Ghoul" could have commented on cultural clash, xenophobia, and class conflict in 1920s England. Instead, these ideas simply linger around the film, never solidifying into any sort of coherent point.

The ghoul in the attic isn't fully revealed until the final scene. Once you get a look at it, you realize this was probably because of its underwhelming appearance and not to build suspense. The cannibalism element is referenced a few times but you never see the monster munching on any flesh. I'm also not sure that this man-eating habit qualifies this creature as a ghoul exactly, since they traditionally only eat dead flesh. They're also, mythologically, Arabian and not Indian. I doubt the filmmakers cared too much about that. To learn that Freddie Francis directed this one as a favor to his son – who produced it – is not horribly surprising. There's some decent stabbing scenes and Cushing and Hurt do their best to elevate the material. Yet "The Ghoul" remains a supremely underwritten and unfocused attempt at Victorian horror. [5/10]

Creepshow: Something Borrowed, Something Blue/Doodles

“Something Borrowed, Something Blue” is about engaged but broke couple Ryan and Alison. They receive a letter from her estranged father, Frank, an ailing millionaire eager to make amends. They arrive at his mansion for brunch and Alison quickly leaves in a huff. That's when Frank reveals to Ryan that he has an eldritch abomination in his basement, that must be fed every fifteen years or chaos will be unleashed on the world. If Ryan continues to feed the beast, he and Alison will inherit Frank's fortune. And the deadline is their wedding day. ”Doodles” concerns Angela, a struggling cartoonist trying to get hired at famous magazine Timeless. She has her cartoon stolen by another woman in the waiting room. That night, she doodles a gory end on a picture of the woman... Only for that ghastly fate to actually befall her. Angela soon finds her drawings have the power to end people's lives, using this ability to knock off her rivals.

“Something Borrowed, Something Blue” has the classic morality tale style set-up we expect from “Creepshow” and its predecessors. Ryan, a seemingly seasonable man, is given a choice: Commit one amoral act and be on easy street for the rest of his life or stick by his ethics and remain poor.  It's the kind of moral conundrum that anyone can relate to. This also means Ryan going behind his wife's back, or so it seems. The main attraction “Something Borrowed, Something Blue” has to longtime horror fans is that Tom Atkins, genre icon and featured player in the original “Creepshow,” plays Frank. There's definitely some fun seeing Atkins, stately in his old age, play such a nasty guy. Most notably when he gives Ryan an ultimatum. 

While I like the cosmic horror element of this story – an unearthly horror in a pit that must be fed every generation - “Something Borrowed, Something Blue” drops the ball at the end. It takes a circular path to the obvious conclusion to this dilemma, introducing an extra twist that strikes me as unnecessary. This sets up another swerve in the final minutes, which pushes the episode into a more cartoonish direction. I also found Curtis Lum and Kristy Dawn Dinsmore, as Ryan and Alison, to be fairly broad in their performances. Once again, I find Shudder's “Creepshow” trying its hand at a “Tales from the Crypt” style story without understanding the simplicity that made that show work.

“Doodles,” meanwhile, might be too simple. It rushes through Angela's arc too quickly. She doesn't mean to cause the first two deaths, unaware of the effects her doodles have on the real world. Within the span of a single scene, she comes around to accepting this power, justifying her actions, and being willing to kill again to protect herself. Anja Savcic is likable but the script lets her down. The best thing about this episode is a decent twist ending, making sure evil is done unto evil as always. There's also a gnarly exploding head and some nice, comic book style colors. Which sometimes feels like an afterthought in this show. [Something Borrowed, Something Blue: 6/10 / Doodles: 6/10]

Chucky: Death Becomes Her

“Death Becomes Her” was the kick-off to the second half of “Chucky's” third season, though it's fairly low-key for a “mid-season premiere.” Chucky's declining health has him facing down the existential crisis of his own mortality. Lexy patches things up with Grant. Jake and Devon travel to the voodoo clinic Chucky previously visited, learning that the murderous doll is indeed dying. President Collins begins to see the ghost of his late son, Joshua, around the White House while Charlotte begins to crack under the mounting pressures of the cover-up. Meanwhile, in Texas, Tiffany/Jennifer Tilly continues to plot her escape from prison before a desperate phone call from Chucky ends up giving the doll his most fiendish idea yet.

“Death Becomes Her' is one of those episodes without much of a driving point of its own. It splits up the cast and has a bunch of different characters pursuing different goals. It's very much a middle-of-the-season episode in that regard. Of all these competing subplots, the President seeing the ghost of his dead son and the First Lady being anxious about conspiracies is easily the most disposable. I guess the haunting scenes are mildly creepy – including some decent camera movements and a screaming flag – though I don't know where the show is going with that. At the very least, Jake and Devon's road trip builds up to a nice moment the show has been teasing all season. The two finally consummate their relationship, in a neon hotel room to the tune of “Relax” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood. The conversation afterwards is genuinely quite sweet, continuing to show the surprisingly sincere handling of the young queer romance at the center of this show.

Of course, we are here for the murderous doll above all else. “Death Becomes Her” puts Chucky in a position we've never seen him in before: Hopelessly confronting the end of his own life. He's been reduced to a wrinkled, shriveled up visage. He murders a maid with some bleach but admits that it doesn't bring him any particular thrill. As always, Brad Dourif's multilayered vocal performance brings far more depth and soul to these moments than you'd expect. The phone conversation with Tiffany provides more surprise pathos. It's also frequently absurd, of course. The comedy is undeniable and the episode plays that up, with a scene where Chucky rudely dismisses a trio of other killer doll movies. 

It is interesting that, after seven movies and two seasons of a TV show, the “Chucky” franchise has never gotten into the mechanics of its magical rules much. I can't say I've ever had that many questions about the arcane magic that makes Chucky's shenanigans possible. Season three has really devoted itself to figuring these things out. The scene where Jake and Devon meet with the doctor, who continues to be a dryly comedic presence, quickly gets into a conversation about the nature of the soul and spirit. Though I'm betting actual practitioner of Voodou do not find this show to be an especially sensitive portrayal of Damballah. Anyway, “Death Becomes Her' is a middle chapter episode that still has enough funny, interesting scenes to keep me watching. [7/10]

Halloween 2024: September 5th

The First Omen (2024)

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]

Horror Castle (1963)

La vergine di Norimberga

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]

Creepshow: Meet the Belaskos/Cheat Code

“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]

Chucky: Dressed to Kill

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]

Halloween 2024: September 4th

Abigail (2024)

After the critical and commercial success of Leigh Whannel's “The Invisible Man,” Universal finally figured out that the best way to reboot their classic monsters for modern audiences is to let promising filmmakers make medium-budget horror movies out of them. Among the many monster projects Universal has announced since then, there was an untitled film to be directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett. This duo, known collectively as Radio Silence, had managed to reboot “Scream” to great commercial success, so they were a solid choice. The project was rumored to be a remake of “Dracula's Daughter” but, when the trailer finally came out, it was called “Abigail.” The retitling might have been prompted by Universal's previous “Dracula” re-imaginings flopping. At the very least, “Abigail” made more money at the box office than “Renfield” and “Last Voyage of the Demeter,” winning more positive reviews too. But what did I, a Universal Monsters aficionado and a Radio Silence skeptic, think? 

While leaving a ballet recital, a young girl is kidnapped by a band of six criminals. They hold her in a secluded mansion, where their contact assures them that, once the ransom is collected in the morning, they'll all be seven million dollars richer. The crew – former military medic Joey, ex-cop Frank, rich girl turned hacker Sammy, dumb muscle Peter, getaway driver Dean, look-out Rickles – expect to have an easy night. Instead, it's discovered that the little girl, Abigail, is the daughter of a crime boss legendary for tearing his enemies apart. That's when the doors and windows are suddenly barricaded. People begin to die violently. The crew try to determine what is happening... Before discovering that Abigail herself is responsible. The little ballerina is a bloodthirsty, invincible vampire. The night only gets bloodier from there.

Having now seen the movie, I understand why "Abigail" wasn't called "Dracula's Daughter." First off, it has nothing to do with the 1936 film of that title, reducing its connection to Bram Stoker's beloved count to an in-joke. Secondly, the film is clearly designed to be seen without the audience knowing it's about vampires. From early on, Abigail is playing her kidnappers against each other, trying to convince Joey that Frank is secretly the brutal crime boss. The identity of the killer is kept a secret for the first half-hour, people being picked off by an unseen assailant. The reveal that Abigail is a vicious vampire, more than capable of ripping her captors apart, is clearly meant to be a twist. The trailers and the entire advertising campaign spoiled that twist. Still, "Abigail" is not done catching the audience off-guard. The film is as much "Reservoir Dogs" as it is "From Dusk Till Dawn," mining tension out of the ensemble's inability to trust each other. Abigail reveals powers that further turn the gang against each other. Before the final act kicks in, more swerves are thrown into the narrative. At its best moments, "Abigail" keeps you guessing, never quite sure where it might go next. At its worst, the writers and directors are preoccupied with throwing in more and more twists. I guess a degree of unpredictability is worth a script that is a bit too self-conscious about its own cleverness. 

It must be said that "Abigail" is a fairly clever take on the vampire premise. The secluded mansion setting, with its secret passageways and elaborate machinery, recalls Radio Silence's own "Ready or Not" but is a neat location for a vampire to run loose in. Among Abigail's suite of superpowers is the ability to psychically control those she's bitten. This leads to probably my favorite sequence in the film, an impromptu dance number in a shadowy alcove set to a classic Danzig number. To a certain subset of horror fans, "Abigail" will win points because it is fucking bloody. When exposed to sunlight, these vampires don't simply simmer and smoke. They explode in a geyser of blood. That goes for individual limbs too. By the final stake through the heart, the survivors of "Abigail" have been covered head to toe in the red stuff. The action choreography, which involves lots of flipping through the air and acrobatic throws, could have been more cleanly assembled. By the end, I think the film had pushed its bloody mayhem as far as it could. Either way, "Abigail" can be commended for its commitment to Grand Guignol theatrics. 

"Abigail" has been classified as a horror/comedy but it's not a wacky gag fest the way "Renfield" was. Instead, this is a horror/comedy in the way classic eighties genre mash-ups like "Fright Night" and "Return of the Living Dead" were. The humor arises out of the interactions between the characters, the threat being played straight no matter how unlikely it gets. The film does assemble a strong cast to bring its antiheroes and criminal scumbags to life. Melissa Barrera is more likable here than in her "Scream" movies, bringing a more grounded sense of vulnerability to her tough girl act. Dan Stevens repeatedly steals the show as Frank, a shifty fellow who only grows more underhanded as the story goes on. Kevin Durand and the late Angus Cloud both get some decent laughs as the simple-minded Peter and Dean, with Durand bringing a little pathos to his part too. Kathryn Newton – who has really established herself as an underrated Scream Queen of the moment – also shines as a bratty rich girl shoved into this wild situation. Giancarlo Esposito shows up to deliver some basic exposition but he's one of those actors who can easily make a meal out of a thin part like this. The script's expletive laden dialogue is definitely trying too hard but "Abigail" invests far more time and energy in its characters than a lot of horror films do. 

But what of Abigail herself? A monster movie is only as good as its monster after all. When I first saw the trailer for "Abigail," I was admittedly skeptical. Simply because, as "M3GAN" proved last year, I don't think little girls doing TikTok dances make for intimidating villains. It is true that Abigail does ballet all throughout the film, often emphasizing her various deadly actions with a spin or pirouette. It plays a little better in execution than in the trailers, though it still strikes me as silly sometimes. 13 year old Alisha Weir – previously of the film of the musical of the film of the book "Mathilda" – does well enough in the part. The profane dialogue is not convincing coming out of her petite face, making a number of negotiation scenes not entirely effective. Her various shrieks and barrier-busting blows seem a little silly to me. Weir is good enough, and the film around her sturdy enough, to make the sight of a 70 pound preteen girl tossing grown adults around more intimidating than laughable. I still don't know if the world needed two dancing pint-sized murderesses but Abigail ultimately won me over. 

The film features a thematic element of absentee parents belatedly connecting with their children. Like the underwhelming attempts at social commentary in Radio Silence's other films, this is a hopelessly underdeveloped thread introduced to give the movie an artificial sense of depth. I do think "Abigail" is trying too hard in many ways, in its foul-mouthed dialogue, countless backstabs, and narrative right turns. When you step back and look at it, Abigail's scheme is way too convoluted. Despite that, I did find the movie to be an amusing bloodbath. The work of Stevens, Newton, and Durand add more layers to an already decently sketched batch of characters. The story kept me guessing and hooked. "Abigail's" sheer commitment to creative bloodletting impressed me. Tyler Bates' score – built around the overture to "Swan Lake," which works for both the ballet and the "Dracula" elements – is good too. Radio Silence has still yet to make a feature film that has blown me away. I'm still glad that genre films like "Abigail," a little smarter and a lot bloodier than you'd expect, get support from the big studios. It barely qualifies as part of Universal's new wave of classic monster revivals but Leigh Whannel's "Wolf Man" is lurking in the mist so hopefully that knock my socks off. [7/10]

The Devil's Messenger (1961)

In the latter days of his career, Lon Chaney Jr. would often pop on TV. He was frequently a guest star on western throughout the fifties and sixties. However, he was the star of a show once... Not that Americans knew this at the time. In 1959, Chaney would be the host of a short-lived anthology called “13 Demon Street.” He presented tales of the supernatural from a spooky old house. The series was an American/Swedish co-production, only broadcast on Swedish television. It wouldn't be until 1961 that Americans got a peek at a series, when three episodes were edited together into a feature called “The Devil's Messenger.” Chaney would film a new framing device. Both the TV show and the movie are more-or-less forgotten nowadays but the involvement of Chaney and Curt Siodmak – who wrote all three of the episodes used in the film version – makes it somewhat notable to genre historians. 

In Hell, Satan greets the soul of a young woman who committed suicide. Dubbing her Satanya, he commands her to deliver three objects to souls who will soon be damned for their actions. We see their stories: “The Photograph” follows a drunken photographer who attacks a beautiful young woman after taking a photo of a house in the snow. He soon sees her face approaching him, closer and closer, every time he looks at the photo. In “Girl in the Glacier,” a team of archeologists uncover a beautiful woman's body, perfectly preserved in the ice. One of them becomes obsessed with the frozen girl, willing to kill to protect her. “Condemned in the Crystal” has a man facing his fears by entering a house he has reoccurring nightmares about. Inside is a fortune teller, who warns him he's going to die, a prophecy he unwillingly brings to life. 

When episodes of a TV show are edited into a movie, you can usually tell. “The Devil's Messenger's” anthology format might've presented a chance to disguise this but it's still all too evident. The episodes have clearly been cut down, sometimes in weird ways that make them harder to follow. “Girl in the Glacier's” ending is rendered almost incoherent by a curious cut. “Condemned in the Crystal” also seems to have been clipped around, the audience seeing a split second of the first scene before it really starts. Moreover, the boxed-in visual style of early sixties television is impossible to miss. This is very true of “The Photograph,” as the scenes of the man discovering the woman in the snow and attacking her are awkwardly framed. 

Aside from the inescapable feeling that the audience is being cheated, presented with a glorified clip show instead of a proper movie, the stories in “The Devil's Messenger” aren't very good. All three have unlikable protagonists, each one detestable men that think they are entitled to women's bodies. Each of these guys get their comeuppance but you never get the impression that we're supposed to be cheering for their punishment. The protagonist of “The Photographer” is especially obnoxious, a cranky drunk who is always yelling at everyone. Upon seeing the woman preserved in the ice, the scientist in “Girl in the Glacier” immediately becomes an unhinged lunatic. “Condemned in the Crystal” also has a blustering jack-ass for a hero, while featuring far too much story for such a short segment. The plot feels rather directionless in that segment, the scenario seeming to change several times before the predictable ending.

As for its horror content, “The Devil's Messenger” is also underwhelming. “The Photograph” has a potentially creepy premise, an image in a photo coming closer to claim a guilty man. It's also an idea that has been explored in before, swiped from M.R. James' "The Mezzotint" and later put to better use in the pilot movie of “Night Gallery” and Stephen King's “The Sun Dog.” “Girl in the Glacier” at least has an odd premise and a pretty cool death scene involving freezing water. Even if it's set-up is totally free of suspense and whatever weirdness is going on here is never exactly explained, it's still probably the best segment in the film. “Condemned in the Crystal” gets a little bit of mileage out of its old house setting. However, its story doesn't even begin to get interesting until the very end. 

It's not entirely surprising to report that the best thing about “The Devil's Messenger” is Lon Chaney Jr. playing Satan. There was clearly little money to film these new scenes, as Hell seems to be composed of a desk sitting in a cave and a row of people waiting to get in. Karen Kadler is terribly stiff as “Satanya.” However, Chaney – dressed in a simple buttoned down shirt, because the Devil is a humble guy, I guess – naturally hams it up in the part. The final scene of the movie, in which Chaney as Satan declares his latest plan for humanity and speaks right to the audience, is without a doubt the highlight of the movie. Otherwise, “The Devil's Messenger” is exactly as forgettable as I imagined. All of “13 Demon Street” is available in the States now but the quality of the segments in this film isn't pushing me to check it out. [5/10]

Creepshow: Parent Death Trap/To Grandmother's House We Go

Inheritance and greed is the theme of the third episode of “Creepshow: Season Four.” In “Parent Death Trap,” Lyle Veljohnson is the constantly hen-pecked and belittled teenage son of millionaires, Loretta and Archibald. When his prom date – Violet, the daughter of another rich family – stands him up, he goes into a rage and kills both his parents. Instead of finding peace, he's constantly haunted by their ghosts, who continue to nag him from beyond the grave. When he meets Violet – who is now broke after her parents got caught laundering funds – in a grocery store, he begins an honest relationship with her. It seems Lyle's life might finally turn around, Mom and Dad going easy on him... But Violet has secrets of her own.

“Parent Death Trap” represents “Creepshow” in one of its silly moods. This is blatantly comedic episode, with Lyle's parents – Dad holding his decapitated head, Mom's guts dangling out – bickering with their son as much as possible. Loretta Walsh and Shaughnessy Redden's performances are suitably ridiculous, each adopting exaggerated accents. In fact, the ghostly parents are so totally awful, that they border on annoying. You don't really buy their attempt to reconcile with their son, after treating him so terribly in life and death. Following “Creepshow's” E.C. Comics logic, Lyle must be punished for his crimes though. What Violet is actually up to is easy to predict. However, the segment's ending is fittingly ironic enough that it made me chuckle. Throw in a little sex and blood and this would've fit right in on HBO's “Tales from the Crypt.” Director P.J. Pesce  – who previously made direct-to-video sequels to “From Dusk Till Dawn” and “The Lost Boys,” as well as lots of TV – has the right, cock-eyed approach to silly material like this.

“To Grandmother's House We Go” concerns greedy gold-digger Marcia, who marries a rich man strictly for his fortune, much to his elderly sister's chagrin. After he dies, Marica and her newly acquired stepdaughter, Ruby, are left broke. When she receives the news that her sister-in-law is sickly and fading fast, Marcia is overjoyed. Ruby will inherit the family fortune and she'll be on easy street. While traveling up the road to the family estate, their car hits some sort of creature. Soon, Ruby is plucked from the vehicle by what turns out to be a werewolf. Marcia has to survive the night and save her stepdaughter if she hopes to get her hands on that money. 

Marcia, played by an appropriately hammy Keegan Connor Tracy, is not as despicable as any of the characters in the first half of this episode. She's definitely a greedy, manipulative person. At first, she seems to only have a mercenary interest in Ruby. However, as the night of terror with the werewolf goes on, she stands up to protect the girl from the beast. By the end, she seems to have claimed the girl as her own. This compelling character, and the tension inherent in a stand-off with a monster on a dark road, makes “To Grandmother's House We Go” a decent twenty minutes. Director Justin G. Dyck – previously of “Anything for Jackson” and a horde of made-for-TV romances – creates some decently spooky images. Even if the werewolf isn't the best looking I've ever seen. I was so won over by Marcia's spunkiness by the end that I'm not sure I like the required ironic ending. Still, this is one of this season's more balanced couplets so far. [Parent Death Trap: 7/10 / To Grandmother's House We Go: 7/10]

Chucky: Jennifer's Body

The third episode of "Chucky's" third season is devoted to filling in the gaps since last year. Right as Chucky was about to get revenge on Tiffany Valentine/Jennifer Tilly, the cops busted in to arrest her for all her crimes. A high profile trial ensued, Tiff/Jennifer convicted of murder in Texas. Meanwhile, Chucky hits the road with Caroline, his new homicidal apprentice. That's when the killer doll notices something unusual: He's aging. It turns out his exposure to a Christian exorcism last season had him fall out of favor with Voodoo snake god Damballa. Now, his only hope to reverse his newfound mortality is to perform six sacrifices in a house of great evil... Prompting the doll to hatch his most fiendish plot yet. 

My fondness for "Seed of Chucky" – not the most highly regarded entry in this franchise – steams from how it operated as a gonzo sitcom about a family of killer dolls. That promise is almost fulfilled in "Jennifer's Body." (Definitely the most clever of the homage titles so far.) This episode is essentially a bloody comedy about a bloodthirsty plaything with a grudge hitting the road with his new psycho-in-training. The results are played for spectacularly silly humor. Chucky and Caroline's conversation in the back of a cab is misinterpreted by a cranky driver, played by special guest Kenan Thompson, who gets an utterly brilliant credit placement. There's a stop-off at a voodoo-themed clinic, an amusing absurd premise played perfectly straight. A murder in a famous horror landmark – an example of how to do references to genre history correctly – collapses into frustrated squabbling between Chucky and his latest ward. All along, there are bursts of demented gore, elaborate murder scenes that function at just the right middle point between ridiculously goofy and squirm-inducingly gross. John Hyams directed this episode too and he's really in his element here. A point-of-view shot fantastically subverts audience expectations.

Brad Dourif's charismatic, smart-ass performance as the plastic executioner has always been the most special thing about this franchise. Over the decades, he has turned Chucky into a weirdly deep character. That is especially evident here, as the doll now suddenly has to deal with the fact that he's aging. That's a nightmare we can all relate to. Chucky finding threads of hair on his pillow or bags under his eyes humanizes the diminutive villain further. This is paired with his weirdly sincere bond with Caroline. Carina Battrick has fantastic chemistry with Dourif's voice and the doll prop. There is a sense of, dare I say, pathos to the scene where these two have to say goodbye. You get the impression that Chucky and Caroline actually like each other, that he's not manipulating her for his own ends. That she's the daughter he's always wanted. It's a weird thing to say but I'm glad that this series and show has been allowed to evolve to this point. 

The rest of "Jennifer's Body" is devoted to the Tilly trial. Thankfully, this is played as high-speed camp. When we have a quadriplegic with claw hands chasing a little kid through Times Square in a wheelchair, I knew the right tone was established. Jennifer Tilly continues to have a ball playing this unhinged sort-of/kind-of version of herself, using her Kewpie Doll voice and movie star glamour to accentuate and subvert the comedy. Fiona Dourif also gets some highlight moments, showing once again that she's as talented at crazy faces and demented laughs as her dad. That all of this off-beat weirdness is playing out against the stately seriousness of the court room makes it all a better joke. 

As with last season's "Death on Denial," this episode shows that "Chucky" works best when focusing on the dilemmas of being a killer doll, the franchise's established cast, and the mayhem. My only complaint is the somewhat flippant manner it dismissed a long-time hero of the story, though there might be a way to wiggle out of that... We'll see. Either way, "Jennifer's Body" is sure to be a highlight of season three. [8/10]