Halloween 2019: October 25th

Dead & Buried (1981)

Here are two underappreciated names in the horror genre for you: Dan O'Bannon and Gary Sherman. O'Bannon, of course, wrote “Alien” and directed “Return of the Living Dead,” in addition to having a hand in a number of notable genre credits. Gary Sherman, meanwhile, was involved with cult classics like “Raw Meat,” “Vice Squad,” and “Lisa.” Despite contributing to classics of varying degrees, neither Sherman nor O'Bannon are the household names among horror fans they should be. Naturally, the two would collaborate early in the names with “Dead & Buried,” another underrated horror gem.

Welcome to Potter's Bluff, a seaside Rhode Island town. The peacefulness of the isolated community is disturbed when a motorist is found brutally burned. Sheriff Dan Gillis is unnerved by the crime, suspecting the body has been moved. The town's residents, including mortician William Dobbs, assure him that nothing unusual has happened. Yet the burned man is struck dead in his hospital bed. And then more dead bodies, seemingly victims of mob violence, begin to pile up. Gillis begins to suspect black magic is involved but the truth is far more terrifying than he could ever imagine.

On one level, there's not much to “Dead & Buried.” This is a straight example of a “town with a dark secret” narrative, with one of the residents being the person who uncovers the mystery. Yet Sherman adds a surprisingly spooky atmosphere of dread to the proceedings. The foggy New England setting goes a long way. Potter's Bluff is always wet and dreary, the roar of the ocean never far from your ears. The town is seemingly composed primarily of abandoned buildings. Within this setting, Sherman engineers a number of effective moments. A mutilated body, that sure seems dead, springs to life with a horrified scream. Our protagonist comes across a black-and-white film reel, which is presented in the starkest, creepiest way possible. “Dead & Buried” is even oddly poetic at times, such as when we see a dead body stripped down to the bone and then built back up again, in a series of slow, cross-fades.

Yet horror fans will probably be most drawn to “Dead & Buried” for its especially intense attack sequences. Somehow, the film repeatedly catches the viewer off-guard. The opening scene let's your guard down, a photography session growing increasingly erotic, before exploding into intense violence. The hospital stabbing is similarly sustained, the tension drawn out before delivering the squirm-inducing image of a hypodermic to the eye. A drunkard being sliced apart with a harpoon is frenzied in its delivery. The film's mood and suspense combine as a family is stalked through an empty house, before the violent mob explodes through a window. It's impressive how “Dead & Buried” manages to deliver its scares with maximum impact each time.

The first time I saw “Dead & Buried,” I knew almost nothing about it. This is the best way to approach the film. The film operates as a mystery, no immediate cause for the violent attacks being evident. While the audience knows the townsfolk have grown deadly, Sheriff Gillis can only guess. The story unravels in an interesting way, slowly leaving hints at something larger. Such as a suggestion of black magic. Or a single shot of some odd scratches on someone's arm. By the time the funeral director is rising from his own cold locker, we've realized that “Dead & Buried” is a zombie film of a very unusual sort. Yet even that doesn't prepare us for the twist ending, visually conveyed to be as shocking as possible.

Finally, what holds “Dead & Buried” together is an especially strong cast. James Farentio is likable as Sheriff Gillis, a man genuinely motivated by a desire to help other people and increasingly baffled by the violence he sees. Farentino panics extremely well and that comes in handy during the film's last act. Jack Albertson, Grandpa Joe himself, makes the town's sinister undertaker an especially memorable character. His monologue about how his work is an art form, or quirks like his obsession with jazz music, are especially endearing. Though his part is small, Robert Englund is immediately recognizable as a typical Potter's Bluff resident.

Dan O'Bannon's involvement in “Dead & Buried” was heavily trumpeted, as the film was advertised as coming from “the creators of 'Alien.'” (O'Bannon would disown the finished film, claiming his script was not used and he only got attached to the film for promotional reasons.) This did little to draw in audiences, as “Dead & Buried” disappeared from theaters quickly. Yet it was increasingly rediscovered on video and cable, where horror fans found it to be a suitably grisly and original feature. A zombie movie unlike any other, “Dead & Buried” is fantastically scary and beautifully assembled, a true eighties classic that everyone should check out. [9/10]

Critters Attack! (2019)

Someone seems determined to resurrect the “Critters” franchise. Part four came out in 1992 and, for two whole decades, there was nary a peep. By the early nineties, the public's hunger for low budget “Gremlins” rip-offs must've surely run dry anyway. And yet, for some reason, we've gotten two new “Critters” bits of media this year. Hot on the heels of the long delayed web-series “A New Binge,” came a brand new movie. “Critters Attack!” was produced by the same production company as “A New Binge,” making me suspect a licensing deal was about to expire or something. However, the film is unrelated to the web-show and, in fact, only loosely connects with the original four “Critters” series.

Two unidentified flying objects crash-land over the rural countryside. Those ravenous Crites have returned to Earth. The first capsule contains a white, female, seemingly benevolent Crite. The second capsule contains a whole mess of hungry, mischievous, black-furred males. Meanwhile, frustrated twenty-something Drea – who longs to get into college but has difficult being accepted – takes a job babysitting the kids of the school administrator. While hiking through the woods, they come across the female Crite. This attacks the evil critters, who are already devouring all in their way, to them. Meanwhile, a familiar face also detects the Crites' presence on Earth and begins to track them.

Considering they ended up appealing most to horror fans, it might be hard to remember that the “Critters” movies were basically intended for kids. Despite featuring some bloody gnawings and even some occasional nudity, each of the original four “Critters” movies were rated PG. “Critters Attack!,” meanwhile, is rated R. There's a certain novelty to seeing the first R-rated Crites adventure. The nasty little monster truly chew their victims to pieces. One guy has his leg gnawed down to the bone. A showering park ranger splatters blood on the curtain. Lots of red stuff is smeared around as they chomp through the town. The monsters get their share too, lots of green blood being splattered as Crites as sliced in half, stabbed with pitchforks, or split down the middle.

The “Critters” series never had an especially deep mythology. The premise is basically the same in each movie, simply the setting being changed. “Critters Attacks!” does attempt to mix things up slightly. The addition of an adorable, good Crite – the white female being nicknamed Bianca – pays off nicely when she starts fighting back against the other Crites. Having Dee Wallace return, this time as one of the series' bounty hunters, is a nice touch. (Though supposedly some weird copyright situation prevented her from officially playing the same character she did in the original.) However, these additions to “Critters'” lore mostly just make the series more of a “Gremlins” rip-off than ever before. Bianca essentially fits the same role as Gizmo, even making similar cooing noises. The Crites fiddle with technology more than ever and gain a devastating weakness, in the form of high-pitched sound.

While “Critters Attack!” has some potentially interesting idea, it's ultimately undone by sheer dourness. Truly, is the “Critters” franchise not the story of a young girl struggling to get into a nice college? Simply put, too many scenes are devoted to Drea angsting about her inability to get into a fancy university. While decent Critters action is doled out throughout, it's sandwiched between loooong scenes of the characters talking among themselves about her schooling situation. Subplots that seem important, such as Drea's uncle or a bag-pipe playing boy with a crush, are discarded bluntly. This causes “Critters Attack!” to feel overly serious and sluggish, even when there are decent gags like the Crites pocketing some sushi or coughing up bubbles.

Supposedly, “Critters Attack!” is a result of Syfy Channel purchasing the rights to the series and will apparently proceed more new sequels. What makes a “Gremlin” rip-off being revived in 2019 so weird, is that “Critters” and “Gremlins” are both now owned by Warner Brothers. Why focus on the knock-off when you could be using the original “Critters Attack!” is less crude, in both content and production values, than “A New Binge.” Yet the web series was ultimately far more entertaining. It did wacky, new things with this series and created some character you could actually be invested in. As opposed to this sequel, which largely goes through the motions with a non-committal cast and a group of generic heroes. [5/10]

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: Tale of the Dead Man's Float

For horror fans of a certain age, “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” was a pivotal show. Broadcast on Nickelodeon, which was best known for wacky cartoons and children's game shows at the time, the series is renown for its menacing monsters-of-the-week and creepy opening. Despite being a young horror fan, I was never a regular watcher of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” No specific reason, I just missed the boat on this one. I will say that opening – a series of seemingly benevolent childhood attractions but seen late at night, through a dark filter, while a heart beats on the soundtrack – is amazingly spooky

Does the selected episode, “Tale of the Dead Man's Float,” stand up to that opening? Both yes and no. The story begins in 1954, where a little boy drowns in the school pool after being dragged down by an invisible force. The pool is closed, the area boarded up, and the incident is forgotten about... Except by the life guard that day, a kid named Charlie, who still feels guilty all these years later. In the modern age, science nerd Zeke befriends swimming champ Clorice, the two harboring crushes on each other. They uncover the secret pool and unknowingly awaken the entity living inside. Using science, Zeke makes the monster invisible but that can't kill it.

In many ways, “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” is exactly the kiddie bullshit I was expecting. The framing device, devoted to the Midnight Society telling the tale around camp fire, is full of wacky child-friendly slapstick. The early scenes of the actual episode feature goofy music and lots of adolescent drama. Moments devoted to Zeke being gently mocked or Clorice considering her crush on the boy are disposable. However, “Tale of the Dead Man's Float” does feature an amazingly gross monster. The creature looks like a bloody, rotting corpse – and is said to smell like one too – and it's surprisingly graphic for a kid's program. The scenes around the abandoned pool are surprisingly dark in their direction too. Science being used to defeat the creature was probably and attempt to teach kids about chemistry but it's incorporated into the story fairly organically. I don't know if I'm going to seek out the rest of this show just yet but this episode was alright. [6/10]

Curve (2016)

“Curve,” a 2016 short film from director Tim Egan, has a minimalistic but undeniably catchy premise. A woman awakens against a smooth, stone wall above a black, deep pit. The wall is steeply curved, making her situation precarious indeed. That's it. Egan refreshingly resists the need to expand the idea any further than that. No explanation for who the woman is, how she got in this scenario, or what exactly the purpose of this fatal experiment is. There's only chilling suggestions at something more: Strange sounds from within the pit, bloody hand prints on the opposing wall, suggesting other people have been through this experience.

Instead, the focus is on the suspense of what the woman does. Egan's camera watches patiently as she attempts to re-situate herself without slipping any further down the wall. The short's sound design is excellent, as we hear every squeak and creak she makes against the curve. Even though we know nothing about this woman, the intimate direction makes this a highly tense experience anyway. The ending might seem moot – either she falls into the pit or she doesn't, right? – but Egan still throws in a fantastically cruel twist. Some have even read into the nine minute short, seeing either a story about depression or the indomitable will to survive inside the human spirit. It's hard to see too much in such a brief film, with so little on its bones narratively, but just as an exercise in form and tension, “Curve” is very successful. [7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 24th

Alice, Sweet Alice (1976)

There have been a lot of movies made about Catholicism. This is probably just because a lot of filmmakers come out of New York City, a heavily Catholic area. Yet I think there's an argument to be made that the rituals and institutions of Catholicism are especially cinematic. The garb of the priests, the ritualized customs of communion and confession, the symbolism inherent in stained glass windows, collars, rosaries. Not to mention the long history of the church certainly provides lots of grist for storytellers. Naturally, the horror genre touches upon the Catholic Church frequently. At the opposite end of “The Exorcist,” where the Catholic Church saves the day, is “Alice, Sweet Alice.” Alfred Sole's infamous 1976 proto-slasher was so critical of the Church that it's been publicly condemned on more than one occasion.

In Paterson, New Jersey during the early sixties, Catherine does her best to raise her two daughters. While seven year old Karen is angelic and beloved, twelve year old Alice is moody, mischievous, and shunned. Catherine substitutes the girls' missing father – the two are divorced – with the Catholic Church. During Karen's first communion, tragedy strikes. The girl is strangled to death, her corpse set on fire, by a strange attacker in a feminine mask and a yellow rain slicker. Alice is widely suspected for the crime, due to her disturbing behavior, but she insists on her innocence. The killer continues to attack throughout the apartment complex, Alice and Karen's father being drawn into the mystery.

Speaking as someone non-religious, the main benefit of being a church-going person is, as far as I can tell, the sense of community and togetherness that come with a good congregation. “Alice, Sweet Alice” portrays the far more common truth. The film depicts religion as a system of judgment, as a way for people to condemn others. Alice demands to take communion, longing for the acceptance it brings, but is repeatedly refused. A crone-faced nun stares at the girls as they kneel at the vestibule. An infirm Catholic priests whines and begs throughout the film, clearly suffering from dementia. Sole shoots the scenes set in the church in cramped close-ups, emphasizing the lack of privacy in this place. When a kindly priest tries to deliver peace and forgiveness to the killer, she returns a repressed lust to him. “Alice, Sweet Alice” has been referred to “anti-Catholic” and that seems fair. The film stands against all organized religion.

Invoking the rituals of the Catholic Church is a primary way “Alice, Sweet Alice” generates its eerie tone. This is a film where nothing ever feels right. A free-form menace floats in the air, the events simultaneously feeling dream-like and anxiety inducing. The similarly dreamy musical score helps further this tone. Into this atmosphere of uncertain, Sole introduces moments of shocking violence and uncomfortable suggestions of depravity. The murder scenes in “Alice, Sweet Alice” attack with an undeniably ferocity. The stairway stabbing sequence, undoubtedly the film's scariest moment, occurs in a closed-in, cramp location, a sensitive part of the body being pierced. A later stabbing is similarly claustrophobic in its execution, before the violence escalates with a brick smashed over the head and into the mouth, before the body is dropped out a window. If the violence doesn't make you flinch, the moments devoted to a morbidly obese landlord pawing at a young girl, or a cop commenting on the same twelve year old girl's breasts, most definitely will.

Watching “Alice, Sweet Alice” after re-visiting “Hereditary” earlier in the month makes me wonder if Ari Aster is a fan of this film. Alfred Sole's movie deals with Big Emotions. After her daughter is murdered, Katherine shrieks in agony. After her sister is attacked, she similarly screams for the heavens. The following scene in the hospital features a similar moment of hysterics. This is only right, as “Alice, Sweet Alice” deals heavily with emotional trauma. Much like how the institution of the church has failed the characters, so has the institution of family. Resentment, especially against Alice, floats throughout the household. The simple act of sitting in a car headed towards the funeral is thick with difficulty.

So what of Alice? It's interesting that, despite getting title billing, Alice does not end up being the killer. The mad-woman in the distinctive yellow slicker and off-putting transparent mask, with streaked harlot's make-up down its face, ends up being a minor supporting character, motivated by her own Catholic guilt to punish those she deems unworthy of God. Yet why is Alice's behavior so creepy? Why does she hide artifacts from her dead sister? Why does she seemed repulsed by the landlord in one scene and then seemingly attempts to seduce him in the next? Alice is rarely shown love throughout the film. She's usually yelled at and verbally punished. Even her mother, who tries to connect with Alice, is more off-put than anything else by her daughter. (This is why she keeps starting her period a secret.) Alice may not be our killer but she is symbolic of all the failings “Alice, Sweet Alice” exposes. Paula Shepphard, who was 18 at the time of filming, is deeply unnerving in the part.

Alfred Sole has made few films besides “Alice, Sweet Alice.” He began in pornography and would go onto slasher parody “Pandemonium,” but this film is his claim-to-fame. And this film is, perhaps, most infamous for being Brooke Shields' debut. After she shot to fame, it was re-issued on VHS under the title “Holy Terror,” her face and name prominent on the box. Horror fans, meanwhile, have come to cherish “Alice” as an extremely creepy, disquieting early example of the slasher genre. (The film heavily resembles a giallo, both in tone and its detective story, but Sole claims he was unfamiliar with that subgenre.) Indie horror auteur Dante Tomaselli, a cousin of Alfred Sole, has been working on a remake since 2006 and still mentions it occasionally. Until that gets made, “Alice, Sweet Alice” will remain a distinctive horror classic. [8/10]

Forever Evil (1988)

Even though JD and I only spent one day at Monster-Mania this year, we still had certain traditions we tried to fulfill. Such as stopping by the VHS Preservation Society's booth and asking for a recommendation. As always, I asked them for something “weird and old.” I was pointed in the direction of “Forever Evil,” which shouldn't be confused with “Beyond Evil” or “Eternal Evil.” The way the film was described to me, it seemed abreast with flicks like “Demonwind,” “Hellgate,” or “Spookies.” Ya know, an oddball eighties horror flick about college kids in an isolated location encountering all sorts of demons, monsters, and weird shit. It turns out “Forever Evil” sort of belongs to this particular subgenre for its first few minutes before shifting towards something even goofier.

Marc joins a group of old college friends, including his pregnant girlfriend, for a retreat at a secluded cabin. The group is unaware that a supernatural cult is active in the near-by area. Demonic entities arise and kill everyone except Marc. In the following months, Marc becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth. He teams up with a police detective and a journalist to get to the bottom of things. He uncovers a conspiracy to bring an ancient god of evil, called Yog Kothag, into flesh-and-blood existence. Marc hunts down this evil, looking to destroy it before anymore innocents are killed.

“Forever Evil” begins as if it's another low budget “Evil Dead” rip-off, likely made by a group of friends goofing around. The old college buddies share private jokes and particular dialogue that is meaningless to us but probably meant something to the people making the movie. P.O.V. monsters tears them apart, frequently in very cheesy ways. This only accounts for the film's first twenty minutes. “Forever Evil” does not let its low budget restrict its imagination. The film then reveals an elaborate mythology, obviously inspired by Lovecraft. (The Necronomicon is name-dropped.) “Forever Evil” bends towards lucubrate conspiracy theories and action movie theatrics, the likes of which you probably didn't expect from a super low budget gore-fest. You certainly can't fault the filmmaker's ambitions.

Fans of gooey special effects and low-budget buffoonery will certainly find some things to entertain them in “Forever Evil.” The gore effects are mostly pretty crude, being limited to people smeared with fake blood... Save for some especially graphic gags. The highlight of the film is when Marc is haunted by spectres of his dead girlfriend and their unborn child. The only time the film comes to close to spooky at all is when a ghoulish baby crawls up to him out of the darkness. Another highlight is when the ghost of the girlfriend claws a fetus from her pregnant belly. That was pretty wicked. Most of the film's climax is devoted to fighting an undying zombie named Alfie, the earthly manifestation of Yog Kothag. Despite his threatening appearance, Alfie repeatedly gets the shit kicked out of him by the heroes. He's shot, stabbed, burned, and eventually blown up. Yet he just keeps coming, the make-up job getting gooier and messier. That's the kind of tenacity I respect in a monster.

Ultimately though, it's hard to recommend “Forever Evil.” From what I've described of the movie, you'd fully expect this thing to be over in eighty minutes, right? Ninety max? Nope, “Forever Evil” runs for nearly two hours. Most of that runtime is devoted to Marc chatting with the police detective and the female journalist, preparing for his final battle with the forces of evil. It's hard to get too invested in this stuff. The film starts to drag very quickly and it focuses on building up a mythology that the filmmakers cared about way more than the audience. The relationship between the cast, which includes an extremely sudden romance, is similarly uninvolving. Even after the undying zombie is defeated, the film still doesn't have the good sense to end. An extended epilogue attempts to wrap up any lingering plot points.

If “Forever Evil” had run about a half-hour shorter and focused on its goofy low budget atmosphere and grisly special effects, it would've been a totally entertaining slice of eighties horror cheese. Instead, the filmmakers were a little too confident in their own story. The result is a bloated creature feature that the audience can barely be bothered to follow along with. It's a bummer too, as this one came real close to satisfying my desire for weirdo eighties cheese. By the way, the VHSPS disc includes a lo-fi trailer for something called “Murder Rap” at the start and features Oingo Boingo as the menu music. Now that I can get into! [5/10]

The Twilight Zone: Nightcrawlers

The enduring influence and popularity of “The Twilight Zone” means there have been several attempts to resurrect Rod Serling's series. Aside from the unlucky theatrical movie and a TV film, there's been three long form TV revivals. Before the most recent version with Jordan Peele, and a largely forgotten version with Forest Whittaker, there was the 1985 “Zone.” Notable filmmakers like Wes Craven, Peter Medak, and Joe Dante would be behind the camera, with authors like Ray Bradbury, Harlon Ellison, and Stephen King contributing stories. The eighties “Twilight Zone” never really caught on in its day, being canceled after two seasons, revived for a syndicated third season, and then canceled again. Since then, the show has developed a cult following. Of all the episodes, “Nightcrawlers,” from season one and directed by William Friedkin, seems especially well regarded.

State trooper Wells pulls into a roadside dinner. He's just come from a bullet-ridden crime scene at a local hotel. At that same time, a man named Price enters the establishment. Price soon reveals himself to be a Vietnam veteran. Disturbed by his memories of the war, Price also has the ability to manifest his dreams and nightmares. Soon, an alternation with the state trooper triggers a full-blown Vietnam flashback in the man. A series of undead soldiers descent on the dinner, emerging from Price's disturbed imagination.

Like so much eighties pop culture, “Nightcrawlers” shows the public consciousness further digesting the aftereffects of the Vietnam War. Friedkin's segment, the last part of the first season's fourth episode, brings the carnage of the war back home in a rather literal fashion. “The Exorcist” director creates a fittingly foreboding atmosphere. Beginning with heavy rainfall, a doom-laden tone quickly overtakes the short. Scott Paulin gives an appropriately intense and unhinged performance as Price, his frenzied delivery ramping up the tension. And that's before gory, zombie soldiers crawl out of the darkness, a nightmarish image if I've ever seen one. I have no idea if the rest of the eighties “Twilight Zone” stood up to scrutiny but “Nightcrawlers” is a delightfully dark and creepy story, well directed and acted with some surprisingly graphic shocks. [7/10]

Critters: A New Binge: The Final Battle

“A New Binge” tries to pull off a fittingly grand finale on its very low budget. “The Final Battle” has Chris, having embraced his half-Crite lineage, facing off against the Bounty Hunters at his hometown's hot dog eating contest. The Crites, however, see the gathering as an excuse to start devouring everyone in their path. Utter chaos breaks out, the furry monsters killing indiscriminately. Realizing his alien brothers are just as bad as the Bounty Hunters, his friends and family endangered, Chris makes the hard decision to fight his own kind.

After a run of solidly entertaining episode, “A New Binge” stumbles a bit in its finale. There are solid gags here. Such as a hot dog eating contestant continuing to chow down, even after the monsters attack. Or Brian's attempt to dissuade the Bounty Hunters and Chris remembering his uncle not-so-inspiring words. However, the show ends up trying a little too hard in its final episode. The low budget really shows here. Though it's cool to see the Critters form into a giant ball again, a call-back to “Critters 2,” the special effects are not so special here. The last few minutes are a storm of Crites exploding in an unconvincing manner. The sequel hook for another season is pretty bad though. (And unlikely, considering how “A New Binge” got abandoned by its production company.) I'm happy to see “A New Binge” doesn't soften its monstrous invaders any, letting them be vicious killers here. And there's even an attempt at some pathos, as Chris' mom takes some drastic measure. However, the show remains too flippant and aggressively wacky for any real emotional resonance. [6/10]

However, I think I'll give “Critters: A New Binge” a positive score over all. The series' extremely low budget was readily apparent from time to time. The writing was extremely crude but I still ended up laughing frequently. The cast is above average, with Joey Morgan being an especially well-suited lead. The web series even put some surprising spins on established “Critters” lore, as it was. I initially wondered why an eight part web series was made instead of a new movie. Then I realized, if you clipped out the end credits, the entirety of “A New Binge” still runs only about an hour. So let's be thankful this was allowed to be the goofy trifle it is and not a badly padded out feature. If nothing else, it's better than “Zombeavers.” [Critters: A New Binge: 7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 23rd

The Stepfather (1987)

1987's “The Stepfather” was, for years, a classic of sleepover party horror. By which I mean, it's a movie a ton of horror fans first saw on VHS in their youths, the film scarring a ton of young folks at a pivotal age. This caused the movie's reputation to grow over the years. Especially because, for whatever reason, the movie wasn't available on DVD for many years. High quality bootlegs, ripped from television broadcast, were regularly passed around conventions. Considering how much fan demand there was for the title, one can only assume some weird rights issue kept it off disc for so long. Obviously this was eventually worked out.  “The Stepfather” came to DVD in 2009, thanks to the good folks at Shout Factory, and can now be easily enjoyed once again.

Stephanie is still feeling the sting of her father's death. It's been a year and she's not doing well in school. Her mom, meanwhile, is ready to move on. She's recently married a man named Jerry Blake. Jerry is a hardworking real estate agent. He's well-liked in the neighborhood and projects old fashion, wholesome values. Yet Stephanie finds something off-putting about Jerry. Her fears are confirmed when she discovers him in the basement, ranting in an unhinged fashion. Stephanie is right to be worried. Jerry Blake is actually a serial killer. He marries into a new family, murders them when they inevitably disappoint him, moves to a new town and assumes a new identity, before starting the murderous cycle over again.

There's an obvious reason “The Stepfather” was popular among young people when it was released. The film smartly capitalizes on common teenage fears. If you're a child of divorce, odds are good you've had to deal with the awkwardness of a step-parent or a new boyfriend/girlfriend moving in. They can never replace your actual father or mother, often leading to a lingering fear that they are an impostor. In “The Stepfather,” this is literally the case, Jerry being a deranged murderer who only projects an upbeat image. For once, the horror movie trope of no authority figure believing the teenager is justified. Everyone just assumes Stephanie is acting out, grappling with adapting to a new father figure. Yet she has actually cause to be concerned, which can't help but bring even darker connotations to mind. Isn't this what children dealing with new step-parents who turn out to be abusive feel? No one will believe you, or maybe you don't want to ruin your mom or dad's happiness, but the safety of your home has been violated.

What makes “The Stepfather” especially effective is the quality of its villain. Terry O'Quinn is absolutely chilling in the role. In the opening scene, he psychotically stares ahead while shaving his beard and washing the blood of his family off his body. He coldly goes through the motion, as he buries his old identity and starts his new one. When assuming the Jerry persona, O'Quinn is convincingly sunny and upbeat. He certainly seems like the ideal stepfather. Yet his secret rages seem genuinely unhinged. Even more frightening is the ease with which O'Quinn switches between the two modes. He's a smiling figure of niceness one minute, a calculating psychopath the next. Whether Jerry Blake is a master manipulator, or at the whims of his own fantasies, hopelessly searching for the perfect family, is hard to say. O'Quinn plays him as not always entirely lucid, making a scary villain even more interesting to think about.

Throughout most of its run time, “The Stepfather” is a slow-boiling thriller. As Stephanie – Jill Schoelen at her most likable – slowly uncovers the truth, the audience is left feeling increasingly uneasy. You are left wondering when Jerry is going to snap again, showing his wickedness with at least one other murder. Once he begins to repeat his cycle, a grim sort of feeling overtakes “The Stepfather.” And then, in its last act, it rather randomly becomes a slasher movie. A totally superfluous subplot, about the brother of a previous victim seeking revenge, exists solely to up the body count. Suddenly, Stephanie is a final girl and Jerry is the hard-to-kill slasher. Yet this is admittedly effective too, largely because the cast is so likable and director Joseph Ruben – who also made “Dreamscape” and the similar “The Good Son” – is more-than-capable of staging an entertaining genre escapade.

“The Stepfather” would be surprisingly well received by critics, especially after a decade of them piling on the horror genre. O'Quinn's performance was especially praised, even earning an Independent Spirit Award nomination. The film's success would prompt two sequels, both of which were more traditional horror films and only one of which starred O'Quinn. (There was also the expected remake during the 2000s but we don't talk about it.) While Jerry Blake would be an odd fit for a franchise, the original “Stepfather” still stands as a scary and well executed genre picture that rightfully deserves its cult following. [7/10]

The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies!!? (1964)

I've said it before and I'll probably say it again: Never underestimate the power of a good title. Or, in this case, an exceptionally long title. Ray Dennis Steckler was a low budget filmmaker who worked throughout the sixties and seventies. His movies were made for next-to-nothing and often self-distributed. The drive-in movie circuit was something of a carny act at the time. Draw in audiences with a wild poster or a crazy title so, even if they think the film is terrible (which they often did), you still had their money. “The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies!!?” – I just love saying that title out loud – is undeniably an example of this tactic. Who wouldn't want to see a film with a title like that? The long title served a second purpose as well. Steckler's film was originally on the second half of a double feature and he wanted to ensure he got his proper space on the theater marquee.

Explaining the plot of “The Incredibly Strange Creatures” is tricky but I'll do my best. At a beach side carnival in California, fortune teller Estrella invites people into her booth. Sometimes, she or her stripper sister Carmella hypnotize the patrons. Other times, Estrella throws acid into the face of the men. This transform them into mindless zombies under her control. The movie zeroes in on Jerry, a slacker who has a similarly carefree girlfriend, who visits the carnival. Estrella hypnotizes him, using him to murder her various rivals from the carnival. Jerry's mind gets scrambled by these events and he tries to unravel what's happening to him.

The above plot description doesn't really do a good job of giving you an idea of what “The Incredibly Strange Creatures” is actually like. Much like the characters in the film, the audience is hypnotized by a bizarre phantasma of images. The film's story, as it is, does not progress in a logical fashion. Steckler's movie jumps between the story of Jerry being into a mixed-up zombie – or maybe he's one of the incredibly strange creature? – and the various acts being performed at the carnival. So song-and-dance numbers, country-and-western songs, and really bad stand-up comedy blend effortlessly with scenes of characters being brainwashed or murdering folks. Steckler then includes an actual nightmare sequence, which is almost impossible to differentiate from the regular tone of the movie. Steckler's film washes over the audience, a strange series of images, music, sights and sounds.

“Mixed-Up Zombies” also serves another interesting function. Steckler apparently did not shoot the majority of the film at an actual carnival. According to Wikipedia, it was largely shot at a sound stage made from an abandoned Masonic temple. Yet there are scenes that obviously were made on location. You see the cast members – Steckler himself played Jerry – ride on roller coasters and enjoy various boardwalk activities. We spot a mechanical monkey shouting about tickets, hear barkers promoting their acts, and see the various rides. One can't help but assume that many of the performers were actual carnival veterans. All of this stuff is long gone now, along with the type of world that birthed them in the first place. So, in its own way, Steckler's film operates as a time capsule for a long extinct culture.

“The Incredibly Strange Creature” was promoted as the “first monster musical,” beating out the other candidate for that title, similar cult favorite “The Horror of Party Beach,” by a few months. So, yes, there's lots of musical numbers. None of which are especially memorable or catchy, most of them dragging on for far too long. So what about the “monster” part of that equation? The sequence of Stckler, with a hood pulled over himself, stalking and murdering people is nightmarish in its own. Especially bizarre is Estrella's henchman, a constantly smoking bearded man named Ortega. The zombies don't appear until the last third, mostly played by actors in unconvincing monster masks. It's all oddly compelling in its own cheap, dumb, extremely weird way. Only the long conclusion, of Jerry being chased by cops across the beach, starts to feel tedious.

Over the years, “The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Zombies!!?” has become a cult film. Some consider it one of the worst movies ever made, a meandering, irritating, deeply incoherent experience made by a clearly unprofessional crew. (Naturally, it ended up on “Mystery Science Theater 3000.”) Others, however, argue for the movie's status as outsider art. And some people just love that a movie with a title this ridiculous, with equally weird content, exists. I did, in fact, find myself enjoying “The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living.” a collection of utter nonsense that is assembled in such a way that it becomes completely fascinating. Dare I watch “Rat-Pfink-a-Boo-Boo” and “The Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid Row Slasher” next? [7/10]

Monsters: The Waiting Game

After running for four years in syndication, “Tales from the Darkside” would end. The very same year, producer Richard P. Rubenstein would launch a new horror anthology show. While “Tales from the Darkside” often featured stories from the sci-fi or fantasy genres, “Monsters” would be all horror, all the time. As the title indicates, each episode would feature a monster of some sort. Also airing in syndication, “Monsters” had a modestly successful three year run, ending just as interest in anthology shows was starting to die out. The series continued to air in re-runs for years, where I would occasionally catch episodes as a kid. According to the internet, “The Waiting Game” from season three is widely regarded as one of the scariest, best episodes of the show and I had never seen it before. Onto the Halloween watch-list it goes!

“The Waiting Game” concern two guys, Lieutenant Tyler and Captain Levitt, working in a nuclear missile silo. Both men assume they'll never have to press the buttons. But one fateful night, the calls come in. Nuclear war begins. The missiles are launched. The world is plunged into a never-ending winter. Tyler and Levitt assume themselves to be among the world's few surviving humans. They quickly get into contact with some soldiers from a neighboring silo. They claim to see and hear things outside their silo. Voices and figures urging them to come out and join them. Soon, the different groups are learning that something did survive the end of the world... But it isn't human.

“The Waiting Game” has a dynamite premise, of a situation of nuclear annihilation somehow getting even worst. There is something undeniably eerie about people alone in a nuclear wasteland, beset by strange sounds and sights from outside. The opening scene, of the guys talking and goofing around, immediately causes the audience to bound with these characters. Similarly amusing, even oddly touching, are the moments devoted to Tyler talking to the other survivors in the second base. To spoil the episode's ending is ruin much of the fun but, needless to say, some monsters do appear. “The Waiting Game” ends up being a rather clever riff on a well-trotted horror premise. I don't know if I'd call it scary exactly but it's certainly an entertaining and spooky half-hour of television. [7/10]

Critters: A New Binge: Split Decision

“Split Decision” has Christopher ready to embrace his destiny as a human/Crite hybrid, much to the chagrin of his mom, Veronica. He's totally ready to go to the Crite home world with his alien dad. That's when the Crite space ship receives a message from Earth. The bounty hunters are holding Charlie and Dana hostage, threatening to kill them if the Critters don't return the boy. Though his new alien allies are reluctant to have him return, the boy talks his Dad into helping him rescue his friend.

“Split Decision” starts with a flashback to Christopher's conception, a perhaps inevitable sequence that I don't think we needed to see. Otherwise, this episode has got a number of solid gags in it. The Crites president's tendency to pepper his otherwise dignified speech with random human swear words still makes me laugh. Christopher's introduction to his new alien stepmother is also a really funny, brief joke. So is a gag at the very end, the boy embracing his part-Crite physiology. There's even a degree of interpersonal drama here, as you wonder whether the president is helping Chris out of selfishness or because he really cares about him. The penultimate episode brings things back around by returning to the hot dog eating contest referenced in the very first episode, which looks like will be the setting for the final part. [7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 22nd

Zombieland: Double Tap (2019)

It's hard to believe that “Zombieland” is really ten years ago. The film came along just before the peak of the public's newfound fascination with the undead. Emma Stone was an up-and-comer  well on her way to America's sweetheart status. It was Jesse Eisenberg's first big hit before his critical breakthrough in ”The Social Network” and furthered Woody Harrelson's transformation into a supporting player in blockbusters. Getting that increasingly busy cast back together seems to have been the big roadblock to making a sequel. We've been hearing about “Zombieland II” for so long, that I was confident it was never going to be made. And then last year, out of the blue, “Zombieland: Double Tap” started to move forward after nearly a decade in development hell, hitting theater screens this Halloween season.

Some time after the events of the first film, the ragtag team of Columbus, Tallahassee, Wichita, and Little Rock continue to make the best of their lives in a post-zombie apocalypse world. The quartet take up residence in an abandoned White House. Columbus and Wichita fall into a romantic relationship while Tallahassee becomes a father figure to the now-eighteen Little Rock. Bristling under this control, the girl heads off with a boy – a hippy named Berkeley – and moves across country. Wichita flees after her, also right after Columbus proposes to her. The two guys soon take pursuit. Along the way, they will make new friends, travel the country, fight a new strain of zombie, and eventually arrive at a huge hippy commune named Babylon.

Here's the facts. We know “Zombieland” was originally conceived as a television series. In the intermediate decade between films, a pilot for a serialized spin-off premiered on Amazon. It seems to me that “Zombieland: Double Tap” is largely composed of left-over ideas from these TV versions. The plot is heavily episodic. The long White House sequence feels like a stand-alone episode. So does a stop-over at the ruins of Graceland and the near-by bar of an Elvis obsessed survivor. A subsequent encounter with near doppelgangers of Columbus and Tallahasse is another premise that easily could've sustained an hour-long episode. The same could be said of Columbus' affairs with the bubble-brained blonde Madison, found surviving in a mall freezer. It's not until the last third, when the gang arrives at the Babylon commune, does the story seem to cohere into a narrative whole.

Which isn't to say “Double Tap” isn't entertaining. The road trip structure allows for a number of new characters to weave their way into the story. And some of them are truly amusing additions. Zoey Deutch is hilarious as Madison. The character isn't expanded much beyond the ditsy blonde archetype. Yet Deutch attacks her dialogue with such zeal, her character given increasingly absurd things to do and say, that she gets some of the sequel's biggest laughs. Rosario Dawson is also highly amusing as Nevada, the gunslinging Elvis fan girl of Tallehasse's dreams. This is the kind of part Dawson excels in: Sexy but tough, a determined woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to do whatever necessary to get it.

Even though it's been a decade, the returning cast steps back into these roles easily. Maybe a little too easily. One of the reasons I've never loved the original “Zombieland” the way others do, is I've always found the characters to be extra-smarmy and cartoonish. That is certainly the case here, as Tallahesse's goofy tough guy act and Columbus' obsessive list-making define the characters more than ever. Yet the actors are clearly having a ball. Harrelson still happily hams it up. Eisenberg brings a warmer side to his neurotic nerd persona. Stone is still a smokey-voiced queen of sexy sarcasm. There is a certain value in watching these characters play off each other, even if they are more cartoonish than ever before.

As with the original, “Zombieland: Double Tap” works best when playing out its absurd zombie-comedy action movie theatrics. The Zombie Kill of the Week gag from the first escalates here, until an inspired scene that uses the Leaning Tower of Piza as a weapon. A number of wacky stunts are employed, such as a monster truck facing down a crowd of super-zombies or a daring dive from a tower. Yet it does bug me slightly that the film introduces the idea of zombies that are faster, stronger, and harder to kill with little explanation. The T-800s, as they are oh-so-cutely called, are truly just a plot device to increase tension. Also, in general, I'd say “Double Tap” is not as funny or fresh as the original. The doppelganger sequence, though brilliant on paper, plays out as oddly lifeless on-screen.

Ultimately, I would rate “Zombieland: Double Tap” at about the same as the original. It's a fun time, full of goofy zombie mayhem and simple characters acting in wacky ways. I do not think it's an especially insightful, interesting, or well made example of its subgenre. I laughed, I smiled, but I doubt I'll ever feel the need to re-visit it. The film certainly seems to leave the door open for “Zombieland 3,” and the box office receipts for the sequel have been healthy, though I find it unlikely everyone will wait around another decade to make that or not. If a third film does rise from the grave eventually, hopefully it'll feel more like a movie and less like a bunch of television episodes hastily fused together. [6/10]

Mystery of Marie Roget (1942)

In the late thirties, Universal Studios would re-release “Frankenstein” and “Dracula” to great success. This prompted the studio make a new sequel, “Son of Frankenstein,” which was also very popular. From that point on, Universal was in the sequel business. As the forties went on, the studio would pump out sequel after sequel to their various monster movies. Among the least expected follow-ups was “Mystery of Marie Roget.” The film is a sequel to 1932's “Murders in the Rue Morgue,” based on Edgar Allan Poe's second Dupin mystery, though with none of the cast returning.

Set in 1889 Paris, the film concerns the disappearance of popular stage singer Marie Roget. A female corpse with a mutilated face is fished out of the river and it's widely assumed to be M. Roget. Head investigator Henri Beauvais enlists the help of Paul Dupin, the forensics specialist who previously unraveled the murders in the Rue Morgues. Marie Roget soon reappears, casting suspicion on her family. (Which includes an eccentric aunt that owns a pet leopard, more than capable of clawing off someone's face.) When Roget disappears again, the investigation heats up.

“Mystery of Marie Roget” is less of a horror movie than “Murders in the Rue Morgue.” It doesn't feature a murderous ape or a mad scientist abducting and killing prostitutes. In general, there's way less expressionistic dread, and none of the original's sense of depravity, in the sequel. The mutilated corpses are kept entirely off-screen, lessening the impact of the grisly crimes. The focus is far more on the detective work. However, that's not to say “Mystery of Marie Roget” won't satisfy those looking for some classic horror atmosphere. There are multiple scenes of characters wandering locations at night, the fog thick, the shadows heavy. The climax features a villainous strangler in a fedora and cape. A stand-out moment returns us to the Rue Morgue and has a body rising off a slab. Despite only belonging to the margins of the genre, “Mystery of Marie Roget” still gives me that classic Universal Monsters feeling that I find so pleasing.

That “Mystery of Marie Roget” features some nice, foggy atmosphere is a good thing because the movie's plot is difficult to follow. There's quite a few false leads. Roget's creepy aunt, her younger sister, and the sister's fiance are all being implement in the crime. That Marie's status, as alive or dead, varies throughout the film is a bit confusing. The police just seem to assume, if someone disappears, they must be dead. At one point, Dupin heads inside a tomb and his boss immediately fears he's about to die. The elements that are most interesting, like the pet leopard or the faceless bodies, end up being down-played in favor of characters making false confessions or cops chasing after potential suspects. By the end, I had no idea what was going on.

Though the events of “Murders in the Rue Morgue” are repeatedly mentioned, a very different mood and the lack of any returning cast members makes it hard to consider “Mystery of Marie Roget” a true sequel. However, that doesn't mean there aren't some familiar faces here. The film features two cast members from “The Wolfman.” Patric Knowles is our new Dupin, playing the part as a much more straight-laced hero than the somewhat eccentric approach Leon Ames brought to the part. Maria Ouspenskaya appears as the aunt with the pet leopard and is delightful in the role. Maria Montez, who would become a much bigger star later in the decade, appears as Marie Roget, being lively and likable in the role despite the character's uncertain alliances.

For many years, “Mystery of Marie Roget” was a somewhat rare film. It wasn't part of the waves of Universal Monsters movies released on VHS in the nineties. It wasn't included in any of the DVD box sets the studio put out in the 2000s. Bootleg copies of the film, recorded off television, circulated among fans. More recently, the film was finally released as a DVD-on-demand vault title, allowing classic horror fans a chance to finally add this one to their library. While it's not an especially good film, and only barely qualifies as a horror movie, I'm glad I finally got to see this one. It just isn't Halloween without a Universal picture. [6/10]

Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Bang! You're Dead

“Alfred Hitchcock Presents” was, undoubtedly,a hugely influential show in its time. The series ran for ten seasons, totaling over three hundred episodes. The show popularized the idea of a thriller anthology series with an on-screen host. I would say it's also largely responsible for making Hitchcock a household name. Though he's association with the genre is undeniable, most of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents'” episodes more accurately belong to the crime or thriller genres. However, I thought it would be right to include the series among the shows I'm sampling this year.

Hitch himself only directed a handful of the show's episodes but one he was behind the camera for was “Bang! You're Dead,” from season seven. The episode concerns Jackie Chester, an excitable five year old boy obsessed with cowboys and playing “war.” He constantly goes around with his toy gun, pretending to shoot people. That day, his uncle Rick has returned from a military trip to Africa, promising gifts. While going through his uncle's bag, Jackie finds an actual gun and assumes it to be a toy. He proceeds to go playing through town, brandishing the loaded pistol, unaware of how deadly it is.

Out of all the episodes of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents,” I selected “Bang! You're Dead” because various websites listed it among the series' most intense episodes. That seems to be a fair statement. Every time little Jackie takes the real gun out of his holster, tension starts to rise. Hitchcock often focuses on the hammer being pulled back, the trigger squeezed, the child coming very close to firing the gun. In the course of the episode, the boy points the loaded pistol at his own mother, the father of another child, a worker in a grocery store, the family maid. It's all expertly designed to make you as uneasy as possible. You figure this TV episode from 1961 probably sin't going to have a five year old child accidentally kill someone but that doesn't stop it from being a tense half-hour of television. Hitchcock's host segments are as droll as ever, even if he does emphasize that the episode is handling a serious subject. By the way, that's little Bill Mumy as Jackie. [7/10]

Critters: A New Binge: For Crites Sake

Episode six of “A New Binge” reveals a plot twist that probably would've been unexpected if the previous episode hadn't heavily foreshadowed it. Chris and his mom are taken aboard the Crite ship, where the Crite President greets them both. The boy soon learns why he's always felt different, why he's hungry all the time. Yes, our main character has been a human/Crite hybrid the entire time. While Chris considers this new knowledge, Holt is detained by the local police. Before they can figure out what the hell is up, the other two bounty hunters arrive to bust him out.

Those jokes about Chris' mom being slutty might've been mean-spirited but at least they were setting up this wacky plot twist. “For Crites Sake” has a number of decent sight gags. The Crite President speaks through a human translator and his language is amusing casual. A series of increasingly absurd reveals concerning Chris' anatomy makes for a decent life. Joey Morgan's reaction to sprouting paralyzing barbs makes for a decent laugh. I also like the implication that the bounty hunters aren't much better than the Crites, an idea that “Critters 4” tried to utilized without much success. I'm intrigued to see where this is headed, as we approach the last two episodes. [7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 21st

There's a number of Halloween traditions I like to observe throughout October. One of the sillier ones is visiting my local Spirit of Halloween store as many times as possible. This year, the store has an especially fun set-up, with a walk-through "haunted aquarium," along with the expected amount of large scale animatronic decorations. It's amazing JD and I have never gotten kicked out of one of these places, considering we inevitably goof around with the costumes and accessories. If there's any time of year when it's okay to be a big kid, it's October. Anyway, on with the reviews.

Perfect Blue (1997)
Pâfekuto burû

It's only recently that anime has started to make in-roads with the mainstream critical establishment. For years, Japanese animation was dismissed as either goofy kids stuff like “Pokemon” or hardcore hentai pornography. Even now, that people are finally willing to embrace anime as its own art form, most people's knowledge of the format doesn't extend too far beyond Studio Ghibli. Or Satoshi Kon. The late, great animator had his films, beginning with breakthrough “Perfect Blue,” distributed in America as art house pictures. This brought his work the kind of critical attention it probably wouldn't have gotten otherwise. Recently, “Perfect Blue” was given a 4K restoration and theatrical release, bringing it to a new generation of film fans.

Mima Kirigoe is a pop singer in the idol group CHAM! Though CHAM! has never had much success on the charts, they have attracted a die hard fan following. Mima is frustrated by the restrictions of the idol life and dreams of something more. Against the wishes of her manager, a former idol herself named Rumi, she begins to pursue acting. She gets a role in a violent crime thriller, eventually starring in a graphic rape scene that greatly disturbs her. Mima begins to receive threatening letters and mail. A stalker, upset that Mima has so suddenly discarded her squeaky clean idol image, begins to track her every move. Amid Mima's increasing disconnect from reality, people begin to end up dead.

For many people in the West, “Perfect Blue” was our introduction to the weird, frequently creepy world of J-pop idol fandom. In the English language world, female pop stars are usually designed to appeal to tween-age girls and, at most, boys of the same age. In Japan, “idols” largely cater to an obsessive fanbase of nerdy, older men. Idols have to maintain an image that is teasingly sexual but also virginal, least they disturb their fans' ability to imagine them as their own personal pop princesses. Careers have been destroyed because idols have been discovered with boyfriends or even rumored to have boyfriends. This is the setting “Perfect Blue” inhabits. We see hardcore idol fans trading catty gossip, increasingly discarding Mima as unworthy following her new career choices. Fans of rival groups pick fights at concerts. The stalker's romantic obsession with Mima – he's introduced imaging holding her in his hand – is urged towards violence by her decision to cast off her "pure" image. It is a deeply fucked-up world and one worth analyzing.

“Perfect Blue” is intimately concerned with the troubles involved in having to be both a normal person and a pop idol. Mima singing bubblegum music on-stage in her frilly outfits is intercut with the woman grocery shopping, feeding her fish, and living in her tiny Tokyo apartment. As she discovers a fan website with intimate details about her life, her sense of personal privacy, of safety, is violated. A key line in the film is “Who are you?,” Mima's sole line of dialogue on her first day on the set. She repeats it over and over again, obviously emphasizing that the question is directed at herself too. After so many years of performing as an idol, Mima has lost herself but her attempts to break out are equally traumatic. “Perfect Blue” frequently cuts between Mima's real life and the show she's filming without warning, fiction and reality seeping into each other. So the audience is as uncertain of what's happening as Mima is. The film perfectly puts you in the mind of someone who has lost themselves.

If that wasn't distressing enough, “Perfect Blue's” images grow increasingly disturbing as it goes on. Though the rape scene is fictional within the context of the film, it is still a deeply uncomfortable watch. Kon focuses on Mima's discomfort while the film-within-the-film seems to eroticize the assault. The sexual violence proceeds gory violence. An eyeless, bleeding corpse appears in an elevator as if killed by a supernatural force. A later ice pick stabbing is surprisingly, effectively gory, blood spurting out in copious amounts after an eye is gouged. Despite being animated, you feel the visceral invasion of the body, the agony of the stabbed victim.

Considering it's relatively down-to-earth story, it's probably not surprising to read that “Perfect Blue” was originally intended to be a live-action film. (And its source novel has since been filmed in live action.) Yet Satoshi Kon certainly takes advantage of this story being animated. Mima's daydreams get increasingly surreal. She's often haunted by images of her pop princess persona, who taunts her from television screens and mirrors. Soon, Mima sees her mirror image bounding through the air, gracefully bouncing atop street lights. In the last act, after the killer's identity is revealed, Mima continues to imagine her attacker like this. The contrasting sight – the smiling, floating J-idol Mima with the violence she inflicts on her real world counterpart – is certainly a creepy, surprising sight. (Kon's future films would embrace this surreal tendency even more.)

“Perfect Blue” received an enthusiastic response here in the West, quickly earning Satoshi Kon the title of “the Alfred Hitchcock of anime.” Which was slightly misleading, as Kon never quite returned to the thriller/horror genre again. (At least, not in feature films. His television series, “Paranoia Agent,” definitely counts as part of the genre.) Though undeniably of its era – the internet is still a new invention, the film set long before the rise of social media changed celebrity culture forever – many of “Perfect Blue's” ideas about obsession and feminine identity are still highly relevant. Ultimately, the film is just as exciting, effective, and creepy as it was twenty years ago. [9/10]

Darlin' (2019)

Last year, there was quite an unexpected announcement. Out of the blue, we suddenly learned that a sequel to “The Woman” was entering production, seven years after the original. Not only would Pollyanna McIntosh return to the role of the cannibalistic wild woman, she would also write and direct the film. (This is actually the second time the leading lady of one of Lucky McKee's film would make a companion piece to the movie they made together. Angela Bettis previously directed “Roman,” something of an inverse of “May.) I wasn't sure what to expect from the new film, as McKee was only acting as a hands-off producer and Jack Ketchum, sadly, passed away last year. The film was released back in July and I knew I had to review it this Halloween.

“The Woman” ended with the titular cannibal taking the Cleek daughters – five year old Darlin', pregnant teenager Peggy and the third, nameless sister – into the woods with her. Nearly a decade has passed. Darlin' is the only surviving Cleek now and is as feral and filthy as the Woman. On a winter night, the teenage girl is discovered. She is soon taken from a hospital to a Catholic school for wayward girls. Though reluctant at first, the wild child slowly learns how to act like a polite, civilized person again. As she re-learns to speak, she reveals her horrifying past to the nuns and bishops of the school. However, the Woman is searching for Darlin' and is quickly closing in.

McIntosh's film is primarily about two things. It's a very odd coming-of-age story. Darlin' isn't growing from childhood into young adulthood. Instead, she's rediscovering the humanity she lost after living most of her life as a forest-dwelling cannibal. Watching Darlin' making friends, rediscovering pleasures like music or cookies, is interesting considering what the girl has been through. Her progression from wild child back to something like normalcy is compelling. However, McIntosh's film is especially preoccupied with the Catholic Church's treatment of women. All of the girls, including Darlin', are treated cruelly by the nuns. The religious institute is completely disinterested in understanding or helping the girls cope with their personal traumas. Inevitably and unsurprisingly, it's revealed that the Bishop is sexually molesting the younger girls. This is certainly a point worth making but “Darlin'” is less interesting when it's focusing on critiquing the sexist traditions of the Catholic Church.

For short stretches of time, the film turns to focus on the Woman's pursuit of Darlin'. In some ways, the Woman is the character we are most invested in here. Darlin' might as well be a totally different person and Peggy is dead, Lauren Ashley Carter returning for a five second cameo in a flashback. (Perhaps this was to avoid association with “Darling,” an unrelated horror movie Carter starred in.) Yet the Woman's subplot often feels like a digression from the main story. There's a certain absurd humor to some of these scenes – such as the Woman's hilarious reaction to riding in a car for the first time or her direct response upon meeting a clown – that jives badly with the film's otherwise serious tone. After a while, the Woman ends up living with a community of homeless women. This is a truly unnecessary addition to the story that goes nowhere and adds nothing to the plot, being discarded before the end. While the Woman is still a remorseless killer, it does feel like McIntosh has softened the character some. She seems to exclusively target men now and the cannibalism aspect is downplayed.

How does McIntosh do as a director? She shows a certain visual flair. “Darlin'” is well-shot and the snowy flashback sequences are especially moody. However, “Darlin'” still has its flaws. The pacing is painfully slow, the film sluggishly progressing through its 100 minute run time before a sudden and non-conclusive ending. Aside from the title character and the sympathetic nun helping her, the rest of the characters are underdeveloped. Most of the other teen girls are reduced to bizarre gimmicks, like the twin girls who talk in unison. McIntosh runs with the feminist themes of “The Woman” in a sometimes heavy-handed manner. This is clearly a movie about how men seek to control women and their bodies. That point is hammered home repeatedly. The film even ends with an embarrassingly bad rap song summing up the story's themes.

“Darlin'” ends with a dedication to Jack Ketchum, which is a nice gesture. I have no idea if the script was completed before or after Jack passed away, but it's pretty clear the sequel was written without his impute. One also feels a lack of involvement from Lucky McKee, whose style is not evident in the film at all. This was one hundred percent Pollyanna McIntosh's project. And one can't help but feel “Darlin'” would be better if it followed “The Woman's” footsteps some more. The sequel feels slightly half-baked, lacking the brutal suspense of its predecessor. But it is still better than “Offspring.” [6/10] 

Thriller: Pigeons from Hell

Series like “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” and “The Twilight Zone” were so popular that a number of similar programs followed. The premise of tales of suspense being presented by a famous, witty actor or personality was too versatile. Among these various anthology shows was “Thriller,” which slotted Boris Karloff into the host position. (This was actually the second time Karloff hosted such a program, after the unseen-for-years “The Veil.”) “Thriller” only ran for two seasons and never penetrated that deeply into the pop culture consciousness. However, the show has a faithful cult following. Easily, its most highly regarded episode is “Pigeons from Hell,” from the Robert E. Howard story of the same name.

“Pigeons from Hell” begins with two brothers, Johnny and Timothy, traveling through an obscure corner of the American countryside. Their car gets stuck on a muddy, empty road. Looking for help, the brothers come upon an abandoned, dilapidated mansion. Outside, a flock of pigeons congregate which is creepy in a way that's hard to define. The brothers decide to spend the night in the mansion, despite the unnerving atmosphere inside. In the middle of the night, Timothy is awoken by Johnny screaming. He discovers Timothy, bloody and wielding a hatchet, before fleeing. Found by the police, Johnny has to convince the sheriff he's not a killer. The two return to the mansion and uncover a local legend.

Despite its humble TV roots, “Pigeons from Hell” produces some spooky black-and-white atmosphere. The story seems like a cliché now, with its tale of stranded motorists taking shelter in a spooky old building. However, the presentation is effective. The old plantation house is rift with deep shadows. The shots of the boys peering up the spiral staircase or looking at a spooky portrait are effective. The shots of Timothy, head bleeding and attacking with an axe, are surprisingly startling. While demonic pigeons sound ridiculous on their face, the episode manages to make the cacophony of their constant cooing spooky. “Pigeons from Hell” is overly reliant on characters reading from books and telling old ghost stories, to explain the back story. Yet it builds to a few decent shocks and a surprisingly creepy conclusion, featuring a beckoning song and a corpse-like figure. And, unsurprisingly, Boris Karloff is more than capable of delivering a spooky introduction with a wry smile. [7/10]

Critters: A New Binge: Detention

“A New Binge” starts to bring some of its plot points together in its fifth episode. Chris, Charlie, Dana, and her boyfriend have all ended up in detention together, at the mercy of their asshole principal. Bounty hunter/Chris' mom's boyfriend Holt arrives at the school at the exact same time as the Crites, leading to a showdown in a class room. Both types of aliens seem to have less-than-kind intentions for the teen boy, who ends up captured by the fang-y furballs at the end of this segment.

This is another fun episode. Thomas Lennon gets some amusing dialogue as the sadistic but clueless Mr. Weber. Once Holt assumes his identity, he even gets some action sequences to himself. The big fight with the Crites involves a number of amusing sight gags, such as the Critters flinging themselves through the window with a catapult, a golf club being used against the monsters, and a thoroughly random shout-out to “The Matrix.” (Which is far more amusing than a shout-out to “Terminator 2.”) There's lot of green monster blood splattered in this segment. The actual story line is becoming increasingly unimportant, in favor of wacky dialogue and goofy creature comedy. Which is about normal for the “Critters” franchise, I would say. [7/10]