Halloween 2026: October 4th

 

Clash of the Titans (1981)

Ray Harryhausen's eleventh motion picture as visual effects technician, “Sinbad the the Eye of the Tiger,” would be released the same day as “Star Wars.” This is surely among the most fitting of coincidences in cinema history. The spectacle and myth-making of Harryhausen's work would inspire George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. Yet their brand of blockbuster would also eclipse the simpler charms of “Jason and the Argonauts” or “The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad.” Ray and his regular producer Charles H. Schneer weren't ready to give up though. They would begin developing another fantasy epic, returning to the same Greek mythology that served them well in the past. However, it was destined to be a fond farewell, not a new beginning. “Clash of the Titans' was a box office success in 1981 but Ray would announce his retirement shortly after its release. 

Screenwriter Beverly Cross simplifies the legend of Perseus but hits the major plot beats: He is still the son of Danae, the result of the god Zeus impregnating her as a golden shower. The princess and her baby are tossed into a chest and thrown off a cliff, guided by the gods to the island of Seriphos. Cross invents a villain in the form of Calibos, the betrothed of Princess Andromeda who has been twisted into a monster for his villainous actions. Now, he calls Andromeda's spirit to his swamp every night, providing her with a new riddle to baffle potential suitors with. Perseus, gifted with a bevy of magical power-ups by the gods, figures out the secret and wins the princess' heart. That's when Calibos' mom, the goddess Thetis, punishes them by insisting Andromeda be sacrificed to the sea monster, the Kraken. (Standing in for the more generic threat of Cetus, in the original story.) Now Perseus must go on a quest to retrieve the one thing that can kill the unstoppable sea monster: The head of the gorgon Medusa, which turns all who look at it into stone. 

Much like the latter two “Sinbad” features, “Clash of the Titans” was surely a throwback even when it was new. It follows the same pattern as the previous fantasy epics Harryhausen worked on. The plot is a episodic quest, built around traveling to an exotic location for a simple reason, upon which the next goal is given to the hero. There is no attempt to deconstruct or reconfigure the mythological figures this story is about. Perseus is a pure-hearted hero, morally sure in his motivations and always just in his actions. He gets an always-wise, always-helpful mentor. It seems to be in the contract with the Gods that literal princess Andromeda stay a virgin until her wedding night, to insure that her love with Perseus is perfectly chaste and pure. The villain is so strictly wicked in his ways that he physically resembles Satan, hooves and horns and tails. To call the characters “archetypes” would be neither insulting nor incorrect, as that's exactly what such mythic figures are anyway. (Even if Calibos is an invention of the filmmakers, he certainly fits in with the half-human, half-monster antagonists of classical mythology.)

Of course, the actual heroes of Greek folklore were not so black-and-white. Least we forget what Jason did after he retrieved the golden fleece. “Clash” mostly doesn't get into that, as far as its mortal characters are concerned. The Gods, however, are portrayed as petty and temperamental as the Greeks liked it. Thetis regularly points out that it's kind of bullshit that Perseus gets the favor of the Gods simply because Zeus is his daddy. Hera certainly has no warmth towards another one of her philandering husband's illegitimate offspring. When the king of Olympus asks Athena to give up her beloved owl, she's not happy about it. The film does not, in any way, interrogate this. Zeus is a jerk but that does not influence Perseus being a straight-forward good guy any. There's a molecule of sympathy to the way Neil McCarthy plays Calibos but that's about it as complications go. 

If it feels like I'm complaining, I'm not. I actually admire the purity of “Clash of the Titans'” vision. Harry Hamlin is so stout-chinned and stern-voiced in his performance that he might as well have leapt right off a comic book page. Laurence Olivier and Maggie Smith make grand theater of playing literal gods. Burgess Meredith adds a wry twinkle of the eye to the standard wise mentor role of Ammon. Director Desmond Davis mostly stays out of the way of the effects and the material. “Clash of the Titans” is a colorful, often gorgeous film. The flickering shadows and hellish oranges of Medusa's lair or foggy texture of Calibos' swamps are lovely. At the same time, the visuals rarely draw too much attention to themselves. There's little indication this film was made in the eighties, aside from a little more blood in the violence and some random PG-rated nudity in an earlier moment. The chirping, cute mechanical sidekick of Bubo the owl has been suggested to be an imitation of R2-D2. Ray denied this but I don't know if I believe him. 

For the most part though, “Clash of the Titans” feels like a film unmoored from time. Some of its effects, mostly in terms of compositing that puts actors in locations were they are not, look cheesy now and then. However, the appeal of Dynamation is eternal. “Clash of the Titans” has maybe the most Harryhausen creations per minute-of-screen time of all his works. I'm not sure any of the stop-motion beasties here rival the likes of the Ymir or Talos in terms of sheer personality. I wish the Kraken was a more sympathetic creature than merely a force of destruction. However, it's an unforgettable creation nevertheless, vast in its scale and personable in its movements. The clicking of Medusa's rattle tail, the glare on her reptilian face is unforgettable, the way her two-headed guard dog yelps when injured, the clattering of the huge scorpions or the way the giant vulture cocks its head to the side: Once again, Harryhausen imbues these creatures with little bits of personality and expressiveness, that make them more than special effects. 

In many ways, “Clash of the Titans” is an immensely charming film. There is something to be admired in Harryhausen and his team's staunch refusal to try and blend in with the times. They knew that stately heroism like this, grand adventure, and cool monsters will always appeal to the young at heart. On one hand, a strict focus like this can be narrowing. “Clash of the Titans” is not a thematically complex film. Its characters have few layers, its plot with little complications, and its resolutions are big and broad. When paired with beautiful but clearly old-fashioned effects, the result is a film clearly of the past. Harryhausen announcing his retirement right after its release was an admission that the world had passed his particular niche by. I'm glad he got this victory lap though. As “simple” as this film is, it's also a work of great skill, experts and artisans working doing their best to create pure entertainment. [8/10]

Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre (2009)

Considering the impact of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” I'm surprised more filmmakers have not emulated the titling scheme of a place, an implement, and a form of murder.  Would you not be intrigued by a motion picture entitled, for example, “The Pennsylvania Blender Homicides?” “Siam Crowbar Fatalities?” “The Utah Spatula Maulings?” I know that would get my butt in the seat! I suppose it's only natural that most tourist destinations would not want to associate their city, state, or country with dismemberment. Of course, Icelandic people are not phased by such concerns. They come from a volcanic wasteland located at the frozen top of the world. They are heartier than that. Also, Gunnar Hansen was Icelandic, meaning that it was only a matter of time before someone from the country would decide to pay homage to Tobe Hooper's classic. Those people were Sjón and filmmaker Júlíus Kemp, with 2009's “Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre.” Presumably because a lot of Americans do not know that Reykjavik is the capital of Iceland, the film was re-titled to “Harpoon” here in the states. Come on, guys, “Icelandic Harpoon Massacre” was right there!

A group of tourists gather in a dingy port in the capital city, awaiting a dilapidated vessel for a whale-watching tour. Among them are Annette, a Christian woman who recently lost her husband-to-be, and Marie-Anne, an environmental activist who drank too much last night. The rest of the group are made up of an alcoholic Frenchman, three British biddies, a Japanese businessman, his wife and put-upon assistant, and the pragmatic Leon. The captain doesn't spot any whales that day and strays into the fishing territory of former whalers. The Frenchman foolishly ascends the mast, causing an accident that impales the captain. The sleazy first mate abandons ship, leaving the sight-seers adrift. They are found by the same desperate whalers who, their profession no longer viable, have turned to cannibalism and depravity. A fight for survival ensues.

“Whale Watching Massacre” falls thoroughly into the 2000's trend of horror as bleak films that are heavy on intense violence and nastiness. The visual palette is overwhelmingly grey and every surface is caked with grime. The opening credits play over real footage of whales being slaughtered. Victims do not merely die but suffer, being strung up, burned, or abused. That would be one thing but the film is also endlessly mean-spirited. Its secondary female lead is subjected to sexual assault, molestation, and torture. Her aside, the cast is largely made up of national stereotypes that treat each other awfully. The British woman observe Leon, a black man, as nothing but a sexual object. It's revealed that he's a homosexual, which Annette declares “disgusting.” The Frenchman is a cowardly, obnoxious buffoon who pisses his pants. The Japanese businessman is a sexist, insulting lout who treats his assistant – the only other semi-decent person in the film – like a slave. These are mostly awful people and this is a film about watching them be awful to each other, on their way to dying awfully. 

Despite its grimness, most of the press refers to “Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre” as a “horror/comedy.” As far as I can tell, the only humor on display here comes from these cartoonishly caricatured characters. I guess we are supposed to find these people calling women “bitches” or crassly hitting one each other to be funny. The only actual attempt at humor occurs in a moment blatantly swiped from “Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” when a seeming safe harbor is revealed to be in league with the cannibals. Supposedly, the film belongs to the same tradition of exaggerated grindhouse throw-backs, also popular at the time. This is evident in the exaggerated gore effects. However, that seems to simply reinforce the movie's cynical outlook. If all of these characters are terrible human beings, naturally we would find their violent death amusing and not dispiriting. The decision to play some of the violence as serious and grim and some as comical, when combined with the overwhelming hateful perspective of the film, simply makes this a miserable slog to watch. 

The film also strikes me as free of any tension. I suspect “Wolf Creek” might have been an influence on this. There's a similar structure, in the characters starting out in one situation, hoping they are saved, only to be put into far more dangerous. However, the film has no patience in revealing its “fishbillies” are murderous, leaving little room for suspense. The characters are so thoroughly unpleasant that you don't care whether they live or die. Moreover, the structure of the script is needlessly shuffled up. The story is constantly leaping between its cast, many of them across different locations. At one point, it jumps back to a group of unimportant side characters from the first scene, which contribute in no way to the actual story. It is as if the film is repeatedly working against any attempts to build up proper tension, always diving into a different tone or scenario when any might be mounting. 

Screenwriter Sjón is a high-minded writer usually, known for his poetry and his more recent scripts for Robert Eggers' films. Presumably, he intended “Whale Watching Massacre” to be satirical. Making the entire cast unflattering representations of their nations feels like the kind of half-formed edginess that passed for “satire” in certain circles in the 2000s. Like Leatherface's brood, the cannibalistic whalers have been forced into this lifestyle by the collapse of their business. They blame animal rights activists for whaling falling out of fashion. While the harpoon-wielding maniacs are clearly antagonistic, the movie around them seems to be pro-whaling. An orca getting a harpoon in its skin helps a character out of a major bind and the environmentalist characters are depicted as clueless. While I agree that everyone should be able to make a living, and that certain cultural traditions can be preserved, it's hard to consider the environmental impact of whaling as worth it. When put in the context of the rest of the film's nihilistic nastiness, this feels less like a statement on Icelandic cultural traditions and more like a juvenile proclamation of it being uncool to care about something silly like animal well-fair. 

I think transposing the grim hopelessness of something like “Wolf Creek” or the slaughterhouse satire of “Chain Saw Massacre” into the bitter north of Iceland and its waters was a good idea. That's a hell of a setting for a horror film. I'm always intrigued to see a culturally specific riff on a genre stable like the depraved redneck. I think the whaling industry is pretty terrible but there's certainly a conversation to be had around it. Unfortunately, “Reykjavik Whale Watching Massacre” is thoroughly unpleasant and obnoxious throughout, without any wit, tension, or compelling thoughts behind its cruelty. Though Sjón does include a shout-out to his sometimes band-mate Björk, maximizing the Icelandic content of this one at least. [4/10]

 

Sightings: Poor Souls
 

“Sightings” – a “news” program devoted to reports of UFOs, ghostly activity, cryptozoology, psychic phenomenon, demonic encounters, magik, and any other type of bullshit you can think of – began life on network TV and syndication. Sci-Fi Channel began to include re-runs of the series on its schedule around 1995, before picking the show up for one more season the next year. This is when I started watching. Now, as an understanding skeptic, I can watch “Sightings” as the pop-science mishmash of nonsense and hysteria that it is. However, as a kid, the way the program presented supernatural claims as legitimate reports would always cause a delightful shiver to run up my spine. Basically, I had the relationship with this show that many people a little older than me did with “Unsolved Mysteries.”

This is why I decided to include a random episode of “Sightings” from the Sci-Fi era in this year's line-up. The third broadcast from season four is a typical hour of the program. The topics breached here include UFO sightings in Israel, Area 51, high schoolers pushing for disclosure of government information around the Roswell story, and a woman who claims to have had a near-death experience during a plane crash. An especially hilarious sequence is called “In the News.” This contains quick tidbits about Native American prophecies around the birth of a white buffalo and scientists researching genetic conditions that are speculated to be a possible origin for werewolf legends. “Sightings” hilariously presents this news story as “Does this prove that werewolves are real?” and plays scenes from “Silver Bullet” under it. This is very silly and shows how dubious “Sightings'” reporting in general was. 

The episode begins with a segment entitled “Poor Souls.” It concerns a former poor house farm location – a building that would house the homeless, sick, and dying back in the day – that is now a residential home. As you'd expect with that back story, the people who have lived in the home claim it is haunted. What the family talks about is standard ghost stuff. The thermostat getting messed with, animals dying mysteriously, uneasy feelings in places. Amusingly, the so-called Drawbridge family – that's gotta be a fake name, right? – attributed the patriarch's kidney stone to supernatural influence as well. “Sightings” draws in “psychic investigator” Peter James to poke around the house. It's all the kind of second-hand supposition you'd expect. Several of the interviewed subjects crack visible smiles while telling their tales, making it clear that you should not take any of this shit seriously. 

Having said all of that, this segment really sums up the appeal “Sightings” had to me as a kid. The dramatic reenactments are often shown in black-and-white, depicting people creeping around the old farm house. Watching this now, I can still feel the same spooky shiver run up my spine that I felt as a child. The people who assembled this segment actually make some good use of sound design and editing. You can see this same skill on-display in the much more ridiculous near-death phenomenon episode. The reenactments are dramatically framed, well lit, and paired with perfectly chosen sound bites. It's well done and presents extremely underwhelming evidence. “Poor Souls” has a jump scare and everything, when a pigeon flies right at Peter James' head when he's in the barn. If you have no nostalgia for detritus like this, it would hold little appeal. But this takes me right back to the late nineties, brother. [7/10]
 

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: What a Mother Wouldn't Do

Here's another somewhat atypical episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series,” more about the person using the cursed object to pursue a goal than the Curious Goods team tracking them down. Expecting mother Leslie Kent is told her child will be born stillborn and that carrying the infant to term may end her own life too. She's keepin' her baby, however. Upon passing by Lewis Vendredi's antiques shop, she became enamored with an simple wooden cradle. Now, six months later, her daughter Allison has been born. The cursed cradle is all that is keeping the child alive. Leslie, and her reluctant husband Martin, now must murder seven people with or near water in order to bring their daughter to full health. Their murder spree is what catches the eyes of Ryan, Micki, and Jack who quickly discover that the cradle in question has a link to the sinking of the Titanic.

In some regards, “What a Mother Wouldn't Do” is probably one of the strongest episodes of the show's first season. The premise of the episode puts our heroes in an extremely difficult situation. If they try and stop the murderous parents, it means a literal baby will die. Every time Allison is removed from her eerily rocking cradle, she begins crying in pain. This is a case where the murderous villains have a justifiable motivation. What parent wouldn't go to extreme lengths to protect their child? How this will be resolved is easy enough to predict, what with the way the script keeps emphasizing that two more people must be executed to fulfill the curse. Maybe to make up for the recent run of downbeat conclusions, this one has a happy ending. Some off-screen magical shenanigans must take place for things to play out in this manner and I wasn't crazy about that. However, I think this one has a dramatically sound foundation. 

There's also some well done fright sequences here. When the innocent babysitter is targeted for the next murder, it results in a way done and tense sequence. Martin, wearing a creepy “Alice Sweet Alice” style mask, attempts to drown her in a tub. It's one of the more tensely directed moments in the show so far. I also like the eerie sight of the cradle starting to rock on its own. On the other hand, “What a Mother Wouldn't Do” is heavy on the campiness that has frequently characterized the series. Lynne Cormack goes hideously over-the-top as the mother, driven to act like a cartoonish supervillain by the situation. She contorts her face in expressions of devious horror or shouts at wicked volumes. If an actress with a degree of subtly was cast in the role, this probably would've been a really strong hour. Instead, it walks the fine line of decent ideas and camp so much of this series has occupied. [7/10]

 

Halloween 2026: September 28th

 

Kraken (2025)
Кракен

In my previous post, I wrote about a very specific type of motion picture: A giant monster movie, from a European country that you don't usually associate with giant monster movies, that is both about and entitled “Kraken,” which received a North American digital release within the last year. Today, I am also writing about a giant monster movie, from a European country that you don't usually associate with giant monster movies, that is both about and entitled “Kraken,” and received a North American digital release within the last year. Yes, by some improbable coincidence, about a year before Norway's big budget “Kraken” movie came out, the Russian film industry would also release a big budget “Kraken” movie. I actually mistook this film for the Norwegian one when the title first popped up on streaming. Upon realizing we had dueling Euro-Trash “Kraken” blockbusters, I knew I had to watch both. This “Kraken” was directed by Nikolai Lebedev, who previously directed what was the most expensive Russian movie at the time as well as a home-grown disaster flick. Once again, it's clear that filmmakers across the Atlantic are trying to create their own Hollywood-style spectacle. 

Near the North Pole, a Swedish geology team is performing tests with explosive charges. The experiments seem to have awoken something. Researchers Julia and Oskar barely escape their compound as it is pulled under the ice. A Russian submarine carrying a top-secret weapon, led by Captain Alexander Voronin, responds to their emergency signal. That is before the sub also goes dark. A second sub is launched to find and destroy the device the other ship was carrying. This mission is led by another Captain Voronin, Viktor, Alexander's little brother. Due to the personal nature of the mission, an Admiral Olshansky is also dispatched to keep an eye on Viktor. While the vessel is rescuing Julia and Oskar, they detect something large and hostile on their radar. Yes, it is the Kraken of legend. The beast is real and it is angry, destroying an oil rig right before the submarine's sensors. Despite the danger, Viktor continues on the mission to locate the missing sub, in the unlikely hope that his brother might still be alive. 

While the two “Krakens” might be easily confused at a glance, they do take very different approaches to the premise. Pål Øie's "Kraken" follows the structure of a standard monster movie, with mysterious sightings and disappearance leading up to the giant beastie's attack. Lebedev's film is much more of a military thriller. There are so many scenes of guys within the cramped interiors of a submarine, rushing from one monitor to another, shouting orders at each other. I would say such sequences occupy the majority of "Kraken's" two hour and fourteen minute runtime. I've heard that big budget Russian movies these days tend to be pro-military agitprop. (Which is not too surprising, considering the current political direction of the nation. I know the U.S. military only assists Hollywood productions if they have approval over the script and I imagine the situation is similar in Russia right now.) The film amusingly features almost no female characters, as it is largely absorbed in the world of serious uniformed guys doing serious military business. Occasionally, the claustrophobic nature of submarining is used for a novel – never suspenseful but interesting – moment. Such as when a smaller, research sub is deployed to explore a deep sea graveyard of sunken ships. However, "Kraken" proves disappointingly stately and dry in its focus on militaristic authority. A lot of this motion picture is devoted to Russian seaman tersely talking and arguing among themselves about what they may or may not be doing at any given moment. 

The presentation is almost suffocating in its stiffness. The musical score is largely composed of classical sounding compositions, heavy and ominous, that maintain the impression you are watching a march-like presentation. The film cannot be critical of the military in any way, which would disrupt its purpose as propaganda. A little bit of conflict arises between Viktor and Olshansky, over who is more worthy to lead the mission. Viktor is, of course, the best soldier for this job, which makes any tension between him and the other officer ineffective. Realizing that's a dead end, the script often focuses on the relationship between the Voronin brothers. Viktor has often felt in the shadow of his big brother, who has also been absent for most of his life. It feels like entirely inessential melodrama, inserted to give the story some depth but not well-formed enough to actually compel in any way. Furthering the purpose of the film, this being a family affair for Viktor makes him a better officer. Serving Glorious Mother Russia is in his blood. 

All the droll submarine shenanigans and maudlin brotherly conflict raises a big question: Isn't this a movie about a giant sea monster? We are nearly an hour into the movie before the enormous tentacles of the Kraken slither on-screen. While I would say the quality of CGI here trails behind the Norwegian production a bit. A scene featuring a pod of whales has the shakiest effects. The big-ass cephalopod still looks neat. A sequence where it destroys an oil rig is the best in the film. When emphasizing the huge eyes or scale of the beast, "Kraken" almost becomes an effective kaiju movie. Unfortunately, this takes up a small percentage of the film. You can tell that "Kraken" is not so concerned with the kraken, as it continues on for a bit after the monster is defeated. You would think a leviathan squid destroying huge structures and chasing the submarine would be dramatic enough. Instead, the film tries to drive tension from its characters, from the inter-officer conflict and concerns over whether the researchers can be trusted or not, but the characters are too one-note that to work at all.

The result is a film that is largely inert. The pacing is glacial, the script so consumed by the stakes of its military arguments and standard arc for the brothers that the movie rarely feels like it's moving. Why isn't a movie called "Kraken" more about a kraken reeking havoc? I guess that would, once again, conflict with the movie's purpose to make the Russian Navy look professional and powerful. At least Michael Bay movies and "Top Gun" have scenes of the U.S. military doing cool shit or explosions or something. "Kraken" is too stately and confined for that. I am always reluctant to declare a movie "boring," as this criticism usually points towards an unwillingness to engage with a film on its own level. But, damn, "Kraken" is fucking boring. About five minutes of the tentacled giant looking threatening or dragging something under the water does not justify how hard I was fighting sleep through this one. If this is any indication, Nikolai Lebedev and his team and presumably government overseers have a lot to learn about making an extended advertisement for the Russian military entertaining, much less a thrilling or fun giant monster movie. [4/10]

Terror-Creatures from the Grave (1965)
5 tombe per un medium

Recently, I was listening to an interview with prolific film journalist, author, interviewer, historian, life-long monster kid and all-around character David Del Valle. Mr. Del Valle is also a former agent and long time friend of Barbara Steele. Among the Dame Steele stories Del Valle shared was an anecdote about how she briefly dated J. Michael Muro, the director of "Street Trash," and was horrified by the script for that film. He capped the tidbit off by saying she is "such a snob." The evidence seems to bear this out. Among her on-and-off reluctance to discuss her horror films over the years, we also have the recollection of filmmaker Massimo Pupillo. He directed Babs in "Terror-Creatures from the Grave" and claims Steele was a total diva on-set, until he berated her before the entire cast and crew.  Well, whatever actually happened and whether Mr. Pupillo was justified in his rant, Steele never let her frustration with her career ever show on-screen. "Terror-Creatures from the Grave," "5 tombe per un medium" in the original Italian, is another gothic chiller that the star brought her particular presence to, totally professionally. 

Attorney Albert Kovac is summoned to the small town of Breggoville, to the estate of Jeronimus Hauff. Upon arriving at the glowering mansion, he learns that Hauff actually died one year ago under mysterious circumstances. Breggoville was the site of a hideous plague centuries before, supposedly intentionally spread by five warlocks. Jeronimus was obsessed with the legend and amassed a wide collection of artifacts related to the tale. His widow, Clio, has little positive to say about her deceased husband. She is among the five people, stipulated in Jeronimus' will, to be present as his body is relocated a year after his death. Anthony stays behind to get to the bottom of this. (Also because he's been charmed by Corrine, Hauff's beautiful daughter.) A curse on the land is often spoken of and people begin to die mysteriously around the mansion, causing suspicion that Jeronimus has returned from the grave to seek revenge on those who wronged him in life. 

Owing to all of them imitating Bava's "Black Sunday," any sixties Italian horror flick with Steele can be counted on for some voluptuous ambiance. This is the sole horror credit of cinematographer Carlo Di Palma, better known for photographing films by Antonioni and Woody Allen. I'm guessing he'd prefer classier fare too but, like Miss Steele, any reluctance is not apparent in the work itself. “Terror-Creatures from the Grave” looks great. Many of the courtyards and cemeteries are thick with fog along the ground. The castle is decorated with shadows, often crossing the performer's faces. Di Palma's camera work brings along some of that Bava-esque smooth camera movements and stylized angles. A shot staring up out of an empty grave is a highlight, as is a moment when some tomb lids slide off on their own. 

“Terror-Creatures” is also notable for being a little bloodier and sexier than Steele's other Italian gothics. The central image of the film are the five hands of the plague spreaders, cleaved off and mummified and now displayed on a wall. The specific of what this disease was are never mentioned but it seems to leave great, weeping wounds on the face and body. The opening scene lingers the effects of a horse stepping on a man's face. Another memorable moment has a man in a wheel chair creatively taking his own life, which goes so far as to feature some unspooling intestines in the aftermath. This film also features, for the perverts in the audience, the closest Barbara Steele ever came to actual nudity, via a bath scene. This is shortly followed up with what is surely one of her more extended sex scenes as well, though nothing much is shown. I mention this because I am a thorough reviewer, of course. 

Steele actually doesn't have nearly as much to do in the film as would've benefited her icy stare and otherworldly presence. As the bitchy widower of a clearly dickish man, she does get to queen it up nicely in a few scenes. Her character is, in easily the most obvious reveal in the film, partially responsible for her husband's death as a result of her lascivious affair being discovered. This is in contrast to Mirella Maravidi as the daughter, who is such a naive innocent that she borders on the childish at times. It's a clear example of the Madonna/Whore dichotomy, the hero running off with the sweet, virginal lass while the shrewish, unfaithful older woman is punished for her crimes. To be fair, most of the characters in “Terror-Creatures” aren't that likable or fleshed-out. Walter Brandi, as Albert, spends most of the film denying anything supernatural is happening. This is supported by a very bored sounding voice-over. 

For a while, I was wondering if “Terror-Creatures” would end up pulling a gaslighting style plot. Perhaps Jeronimus only faked his death as a predecessor to flushing out his enemies and philandering wife? The uncertainty over his exact fate, as in a scene where someone seems to see him sitting in a chair before he vanishes, pairs with a detective storyline that suggests such an ending. Instead, the film does bend towards witchcraft and some actually creatures from the grave  eventually. How terrifying they are is debatable. In fact, the evil spirits never appear on-screen, operating only as ghostly voices and invisible forces. Perhaps that is why the film ups the flesh and blood, to compensate for the lack of actual monsters. 

 

Despite being mid-tier Steele, owing to the drippy lead, mediocre script, and fewer freakies, I still enjoyed myself with “Terror-Creatures.” What can I say, I'm a slut for some black-and-white gothic atmosphere. Another amusing element of the film is that, the opening credits make the claim that it's based on an Edgar Allan Poe story. I guess, if you squint, you can see traces of “Masque of the Red Death” or “Fall of the House of Usher” here, with the emphasis on the plague and the story of a guy traveling to a far-away, doomed abode. At least “Castle of Blood” actually made Poe a character in its story to justify putting his name in the credits. All in all, there's enough shadowy ambiance, one or two spooky moments, and enough moments of Steele glaring with those saucer eyes of her to justify the 83 minutes I spent watching it. Snob or not, nobody could glare like her! [7/10]

 

Unsolved Mysteries: Season 1, Episode 11

The Satanic Panic of the eighties and early nineties remains a topic of fascination for a lot of people. Partially because, in retrospect, it is so laughably obvious as an example of mass hysteria. Also because it never really ended, the exact same rhetoric that was used to accuse daycare center owners of summoning Satanic Chuck Norris in the eighties now simply shift to whatever target of scorn the right-wing is mad at this week. (Usually immigrants and queer people.) Programs like “Unsolved Mysteries” probably deserve some of the blame. For stoking fears around the utterly unfounded belief that Satanic cults were roaming American small towns. Or that harmless hobbies, like heavy metal or horror movies, came with diabolic influence. The show was making that connection as early as its first season. 

The third segment concerns the death of Kurt McFall, a seventeen year old kid from Simi Valley, California. Kurt had been getting into Dungeons and Dragon, medieval reenactment, and pagan religion. While staying at a friend’s house, he allegedly went out into the middle of the night, saying he couldn’t sleep and was overheated. The next morning, his body was found dead at the bottom of an ocean-side cliff. He had not drowned and had died from impact trauma. The implication seems to be that he fell to his death. His father, Tom, claims he got a phone call earlier that night. Saying that Kurt had become involved in a Satanic cult, that he “knew too much,” and was trying to escape the group. He also found some edgy drawings and witchy knickknacks in the boy’s room. This is basically the entire basis of Mr. McFall’s belief that his son was murdered. “Unsolved Mysteries” does track down an unidentified speaker, a supposed friend of Kurt’s that was in this cult with him, but that’s it. 

In other words, this “Unsolved Mysteries” segment does a good job of illustrating how the Satanic Panic worked in many cases. I don’t believe Tom McFall was acting with any malice when he made these claims. He says that the beer bottles around Kurt’s car must have been planted, as his son didn’t drink. Because teenagers are always honest with their parents about their alcohol in-take. He finds some gory pictures in his son’s room alarming, when that sounds like pretty normal behavior for nerdy teen boys to me. He tries to paint the pagan circle the kid was involved with as sinister, when they just look like dorky guys taking on Welsh names and doing some vintage prayers. The unexpected death of your child, at such a young age, is an awful burden for any parent. A random accident leading to his boy’s premature end is a chaotic, shitty bit of happenstance. In his grief, Tom McFall looked for patterns to explain his loss. He landed on the, by then well publicized, trend of D&D and devil-worshiping luring young men into sinister territories. As for that phone call the dad claims he received? Or the testimonial of the friend? Who is to say but it is easy to imagine that, while reeling from the loss of your child or friend, your mind can convince itself all sorts of memories happened. 

The unreliable quality of memory and parents, perhaps, not knowing their kids as well as they hoped are reoccurring trends in this episode. The first segment concerns a seventeen year old girl, secretly dating an older man who had gotten her pregnant, being involved with the murder of a co-worker.  The second follows a man locked up for a robbery, despite numerous witnesses that he was at home during that time. A cop claiming he saw the guy roughly right after the robbery occurred and the testimonial of someone who had never met the man before convinced the jury. Meanwhile, a cop in the first case believes that the teenage girl, groomed and manipulated by a dirt bag, is just as guilty of murder as her partner. Kind of makes the police look bad, ya know! Anyway, this “Unsolved Mystery” is an interesting time capsule more than anything else. Though there are some good shots of Robert Stack wandering spooky woods in a trench coat. [6/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Quilt of Hathor
 

For some reason I have not been able to decipher, basic cable programing became fascinated with the Amish sometime last decade. Increasingly bullshitty reality shows would soon spawn trashy TV movies with hilarious titles like “Amish Stud” and “Stalked by My Amish Boyfriend.” So-called Amishsploitation is not an altogether recent phenomenon. Genre films and television periodically remember that we've got whole communities of weird, quasi-agrarian, religious cults in this country. Like Wes Craven's “Deadly Blessing” before it, “Friday the 13th: The Series” doesn't actually call its clearly Amish-coded group by that name. Instead, “The Quilt of Hathor” is set among the Pentitites. Micki and Ryan arrive in the village looking for a cursed quilt, which allows the holder to murder others through their dreams. A woman named Effie Stokes is using the quilt to bump off any woman that expresses romantic interest in the village's leader, Josiah Grange. As the duo are snooping around the town, Ryan starts to fall in love with Laura, Josiah's daughter. 

Amishsploitation tends to focus on the most outwardly unusual aspects of Amish society. Ya know, the horse and buggies and hats and black clothes and barn raising and old-timey speaks and all that. This ignores the actual sinister thing about communities like this: All the child abuse and a culture designed to silence anyone who speaks up about it. “The Quilt of Hathor” almost hints at this. The very first scene has Josiah attempting to court a barely legal young woman. Rather than comment on the sketchiness of the community leader deciding the teenage girl should be his bride, this is merely a set-up for the episode's Villain of the Week. Effie Stokes, identified as “plain” and ignored by Grange, uses the titular Cursed Artifact to murder her romantic rivals. This happens with startlingly frequency, as Josiah happily moves onto who ever is next in line after his last would-be spouse dies mysteriously. This unwittingly paints the man as either incredibly stupid or unforgivably evil. Considering the same town outright acknowledges that they arrange marriage for kids as young as eight, I'm leaning more towards the latter.

Of course, “Friday the 13th” wasn't that kind of show. Instead, it simply uses the setting for novelty. Micki and Ryan go “undercover” in the community but barely try at all. It's about five minutes after meeting her that Ryan falls for Laura, beginning to court her immediately. This makes his cliffhanger providing declaration of love hard to swallow. We expect this guy to abandon his modern lifestyle for the Pentitite way when he can't be bother to observe any of the rules up to that point? Micki is upset by the announcement and, inevitably, it plays as a romantic rejection. She insists that she's only upset because she doesn't want to hunt down all these evil doodads with just Jack to help. However, her argument turns towards cries of “but what about all the time we've spent together?” very quickly. These two cousins should go ahead and kiss already. I'm sure the Amish are okay with that too.

As for the horror elements, they are quite silly. Perhaps the show writers realized that “evil quilt” is not the best logline for a story. Having deadly nightmares occur when someone hugs the quilt is a decent work-around, that also blatantly recalls the “Nightmare on Elm Street” series. We've got no Freddy Krueger here, only reoccurring dreams set in a vaguely French Revolution era palace. I guess that's what an Amish lifer would imagine as decadent and corrupt. I did kind of like the scenes devoted to Laura's assigned future husband trying repeatedly to kill Ryan. A scene where he's throwing a pitchfork around is mildly suspenseful. The resolution to this rivalry involves an “American Gladiator” style fight over an open fire, which is certainly something to see. Silly episode but not without its moments. [6/10]

Halloween 2026: September 18th

Faces of Death (1978)
 

It is one of the most notorious titles in horror history. I believe I was in the sixth grade when a classmate informed me about “Faces of Death,” a documentary that presented viewers with real images of death: Automobile accidents, political assassination, war footage, executions. The idea comes across as almost quaint today, when any sixth grader with a cell phone can find such things within seconds. Who has time to assemble their gore reels into a faux-documentary format these days? Back in the dial-up era, such content was slightly harder to come across. Not so hard to find was proof that “Faces of Death” was mostly composed of faked footage. Despite that, the film itself remains. A cult following, composed of horror fans who recall when this was the ultimate litmus test for gore hounds, has gathered. Today this once widely banned film, the kind of thing you could only find at the sleazier video stores or among hardcore tape traders, can be streamed with ease. I've never watched “Faces of Death” before. As fascinated as I am by the morbid and macabre, actual footage of dead people or animals is not something I enjoy looking at. However, before watching the remake, I figured I better brave the original. 

In the tradition of mondo movie shock-docs before it, "Faces of Death" attempts to assemble its salacious footage in the context of a documentary with some sort of point. A pathologist with the not exactly convincing name of Francis B. Gröss – actually actor Michael Carr, who seems sleepy – is our host. After many years of looking death in the face, he claims to be haunted by recurring dreams of a funeral. He has dedicated himself to examining footage of different forms of death from around the world, in hopes of gleaming some deeper understanding of our mortality. The film is actually the work of John Alan Schwartz, previously an assistant editor on eleven episodes of "In Search Of...," who roughly splits the film into segments loosely based around gruesome themes: The animal world and slaughterhouses, autopsies, crime and punishment, religious rituals, natural disasters, accidents, the horrors of war, and the possibility of life after death. 

What this means in execution is "Faces of Death" leaps between quasi-documentary footage of debatable merit, obviously staged episodes, and genuine footage. The latter element most gives the sickos what they came for. The difference in film grain makes the actually gruesome stuff easy to spot. A woman committing suicide by leaping from a building is distressing. A political assassination happens so quickly as to be indistinct. A parachuter crashing to the ground is similarly blurry. Extensive recordings of the inside of a kosher slaughterhouse or an coroner's workplace is, simply put, extremely gross. What benefit do we as viewers receive from looking at sheep being skinned, cows having their throats slit, the fat and sinew being cut away and the bones ground into pulp? The recording of morticians steadily going about their work, peeling faces back to remove internal organs only to sew the flesh into place, seems to draw a parallel between these two places. The final act shows us the remains of a bicyclist struck by a truck, the brain matter picked off the asphalt. We similarly see the aftermath of an airplane crash, globs of barely recognizable bloody flesh clinging to the street, or a waterlogged corpse washed up on the beach. Are we all but electric signals bouncing across spongy brain matter and piloting an assemblage of meat and bone? What truly separates us from the steak on the plate, other than our slaughterhouse being the world? 

Obviously, Schwartz or anyone else who worked on the film were not pondering too hard on such esoteric topics. The gnarliest footage in "Faces of Death" represents nothing more than a sleazy geek show, from exploitation filmmakers hoping to make a few bucks by showing people shocking images. People want to pay to test the strength of their stomachs, so "Faces" throws a dead body on-screen. Shoddy reenactments and obviously hoaxed imagery being placed alongside real newsreels, of starving children or mass graves, shows how sincere the filmmakers were about delving into human understanding. If I were a family member or loved one of any of the deceased pictured here, I would certainly like to see their bodies treated with more dignity. The script has the narrator delivering faux philosophical monologues over the grotesque footage. Much of which isn't very interesting, though one or two line at least has a certain poetry to it. A random aside about how, if genocide on the level of the Holocaust occurs again, we should all go to Hell. Or ruminating about switching to vegetarianism after seeing the inner workings of an slaughterhouse or a farmer chopping a chicken's head off. But those are fleeting moments in a film that feels more like, in line with Schwartz's past credits, a version of "In Search Of..." hosted by the Evil Spock from the Mirror Universe. 

The question then becomes what value, if any, "Faces of Death" has in 2026. Unsurprisingly, it mostly exists now as a camp artifact, thanks to those unconvincing staged sequences. An alligator attack on a golf course contains a lot of alternate camera angles for supposed raw footage of a guy getting chomped on by a wild animal. A bear attack is more hilariously awkward. A husband goads a sedated looking grizzly until there's a dramatic scream from his camera-holding wife, a fumble of footage, and a shot of the bear chewing on something inside the man's shirt. The most notorious moments are the most ridiculous. Satanic hippies sliced open a body and smear blood on their tits on their way to an orgy, a moment of such clumsiness that I'm not sure why it was included at all. The infamous monkey brains supper is so melodramatic in its presentation, that it feels like a farce. (Though that poor bound macaque clearly was really getting smacked in the head with rubber mallets. At least the dog fight sequence actually depicts two pit bulls trying to mate, with a little fake blood spread around.) 

The moments in "Faces of Death" that most made me laugh are less lauded. The epilogue devoted to an investigation of a supposed haunting and seance definitely feels like a regional horror film from 1976. The most baffling decision made was to end this cinematic vomitorium with a life-affirming montage of moms and babies, animals in the wild, and beautiful sunrises set to a truly maudlin piece of auditory schlock. And, yeah, once or twice, the filmmakers actually stumble upon an interesting visual. Faked footage of a police shoot-out, concluding with a suburban rifleman being gunned down and scenes of his butchered wife and kids inside, plays like proto-found footage. The recreation of Dr. Gröss' nightmare includes some decently eerie first person perspective of a casket being lowered into the ground and covered with dirt. An interview with a supposed political assassin distorts his voice and covers his face in such a way as to add a surreal edge. The recreation of an execution by electric chair suggests some degree of actual horror by the filmmakers at what they are showing us. As much as "Faces of Death" is classified strictly as artless hucksters pointing a camera at dead bodies or cutting together traffic accidents, there was a molecule of talent or skill involved here. Those involved probably should've scrapped together a few more bucks and made a cheapie horror flick instead. 

But that wouldn't have made as much money. As a con man's shtick, the movie is mildly impressive. These guys really did throw this shit together on the fly and made millions of dollars off it. Several sequels would follow, the degree of bullshittery in each varying. A cottage industry of more explicit shock-docs would spring up in "Faces'" wake. Questionable exercises in free will like "Death Faces" or "Traces of Death" would give those craving actual footage of death and the grisly aftermath exactly what they asked for. All of these are the ancestors of LiveLeak, Ogrish, BestGore, and other seedy corners of the internet devoted to showing us awful things. I guess some folks are nostalgic for such things. Schwartz's "Faces of Death" made me laugh from its shoddiness and awkwardness a couple of times. I don't object to the film existing and believe that, perhaps, there are contexts where footage such as this could be presented in a meaningful manner. Merely looking at animals and dead people getting chopped up does little for me. "Faces of Death" has its place in genre history but how worthy it is of being sought out, in this day and age, depends on how interested you are in this disreputable style of filmmaking. [5/10]

 

Ruthless Father (2019)

Cinemas were first built in Afghanistan in the fifties. Locally produced motion pictures began to emerge in the next decade. In the aftermath of the Cold War, the newly emerged government banned film productions within the country. When the Taliban took control a few years after that, even watching a film was declared a crime. There's been growth since then, though the Afghan film industry still remains small. Letterboxd currently list 173 feature length, finished titles with Afghanistan as their primary country of origin. Of that entire list, only two seem to fall within the horror genre. A project entitled “The Yesterday's Shadows” was supposedly released in 2011, though I can find no way to watch it. 2019's “Ruthless Father,” however, can be located with a minimal amount of effort. Director/star Hamid Ehsas announces in the opening credits that this is Afghanistan's first horror movie, which at least seems to be true from any practical perspective.

The same credits also declare that, excluding the supernatural and romantic elements, “Ruthless Father” is a true story. Which is kind of like saying “This story is true, except for all the stuff we made up.” Nevertheless, the plot concerns a cruel father who mistreats his wife and their three sons. Every day, he sends his boys – Hamid, Fahim, and Fayaz – out into the city to work. When they return home at night, he beats them until they hand over whatever money they made that day. Aging into adulthood, Hamid has decided he's had enough. He decides to marry the woman he loves – whom the extremely wonky subtitles describe as “his uncle's daughter” – and start over in a new town. Instead, his dad bullies him into simply moving into his house with his new bride. While Fahim is at work, thieves supposedly attack the home and murder Hamid with an axe. This is the first in a string of tragedies that befall the family, it becoming evident very soon that supernatural forces have cursed the household. 

After watching “Ruthless Father,” I felt the same way I did after watching “Dead Sands,” the Bahrani zombie movie I covered last year. Both were made by aspiring filmmakers with limited resources, in a country with little professional support for projects like this and no established horror cinema traditions of its own. So I'll start by saying some positive things: “Ruthless Father” features some effectively atmospheric lighting in several scenes. A nightmare sequences includes some cool billowing fog and lights semi-abandoned buildings in fluorescent reds. It looks neat. There's also, I believe, a decent attempt to build suspense in a few other sequences. A haunting set piece beginning in a locked bathroom, featuring bloody hand prints slowly moving up the wall, is decently executed. The filmmakers certainly show potential. 

Otherwise, it's hard not to notice that a clear lack of professionalism inhabits most of “Ruthless Father.” The acting is embarrassingly stiff, with most of the performers mechanically rattling off the dialogue they've been given. The music is heavy-handed, often overwhelming the dialogue in a scene. I suspect some of the score is license-free music, or at least sounds generic enough to be. The pacing is quite poor, with multiple scenes stretching on for far too long. Such as when a pair of night watchmen at a cemetery indecisively go back and forth on whether or not they are, in fact, seeing a guy at a grave. Or several extended moments of people walking up stairs or sitting down, which feel like nothing more than padding. I hear that Indian cinema is popular in Afghanistan and the masala influence is evident in “Ruthless Father.” There are a few music video style fantasy sequences, of the brothers wooing their ladies, that feel very out-of-place compared to the rest of the film. Not as out-of-place as the sudden burst of action movie theatrics. An apparent flashback to the day of Hamid's murder features the guys doing over-the-top spin punches and leaps. Except “Ruthless Father” clearly did not have the budget or resources to hire an actual stunt coordinator or fight choreographer. The scene is instead instantly giggles-inducing, peppered with misplaced or mistimed slow-motion and ramping. 

Maybe the biggest problem facing “Ruthless Father,” more so than its amateurish production values or awkward acting, is a script with little in the way of suspense. Perhaps the above fight scene is so over-the-top because we are meant to recognize it as bullshit. I'm reluctant to spoil the film but, needless to say, the facts about how the son of a physically abusive father ended up suddenly dead, right after he attempted to assert control of his own life, are not hard to predict. With this prediction in mind, the film's vengeful haunting is still inconsistent. In some scenes, Hamid's ghost seems to target people who had nothing to do with his death. At one point, it appears in angelic white to explain that it means no harm to someone. I would say having your film's antagonist outright announce that they aren't going to hurt certain characters undermines their threat potential, man. 

In general, “Ruthless Father” is simply a mawkish, off-note motion picture. The attempts at scares are often derailed by super limp digital effects, a bad sound effect, or a poorly timed shock. The script is heavy on the melodrama, with several romantic subplots amounting to nothing. The film's ideas about what are scary – a photograph's eyes changing suddenly – are more corny than intense. The version I watch comes with its own subtitles, an English translator being credited as well. The result of their work is below-par, with most sentences being barely coherent and text-speech abbreviations like “pls” cropping up. I'm still trying to figure out what insult “son of a donkey” is a mangled translation of. It's hard to be too down on a film like this, more-or-less the first of its kind. This is the rough prototype that better, future productions will hopefully build on. But that doesn't make it any less rough either. [3/10]

 

 

 

The Mind Beyond: Stones

The British Broadcasting Corporation used to be quite fond of anthology programs. Programs like “Play for Today” or “Screen One” would present original, stand-alone dramas, often adapted from contemporary stage plays or other classy source material. Another example was “BBC2 Playhouse,” whose main distinguishing characteristics seems to be that it, uh, aired on BBC2 instead. In autumn of 1976, born of producer Irene Shubik's personal fascination with the topic, “Playhouse” would devote six broadcasts to the theme of extrasensory perception. This sub-series was labeled “The Mind Beyond” and several of its episodes have been pointed out folk horror scholars. Such as “Stones.” It concerns a plan by the British tourism board to move Stonehenge from the Wiltshire field it's resided in for centuries to Hyde Park, in the middle of London. Historian Nicholas is fiercely opposed to the idea. (Not the least bit because the project's head is his wife's old college boyfriend.) In his research, he uncovers unknown lettering hidden under the spine of a book on the subject. This leads him on a journey to investigate the power and meaning ancient stone structures like Stonehenge had... And may still have, as the monoliths seem to be holding a strange sway over Nicholas' adolescent daughter.

On one level, “Stones” really shows the limitations of seventies British television. As an hour of television, “Stones” is quite dry. Almost the entire runtime is devoted to different stuffy old British men, standing around in rooms, talking about things. Nicholas talks about the plan to move Stonehenge with other officials and academics in tuxedos. He goes to a friend and expert in languages and talks about the symbols he's uncovered. He ends up in a museum and argues with the keeper of the old books. He journeys to a book seller and discusses the sales history of several old stones. At least one of these encounters has him outside, near the henge itself, as he discusses the topic with a portly, jolly Welshman. It is, obviously, not the most cinematic presentation. The performances are all quite stately and British. While the conversations about the history of Stonehenge, and especially past doomed attempts to move it, are intriguing... I'll admit, my interest did start to wane during all the talk of the mysterious symbols. You would think an expert on Stonehenge, of all people, would recognize that the weird letters resemble the standing stones he's always talking about. 

The stiffness of the characters and their long-winded discussions may, in fact, be the point. Early on, Nicholas is accused of having “The Oxford Problem.” He's so deep into the world of academia, so used to talking about ideas, that he's no longer able to talk to people. The rest of the hour certainly backs that up. His relationship with his wife seems tense. She references past relationships as being more active and passionate. Later, Nicholas defaces a book after being directly told not to do that. After a secretary doesn't respond to him, he dismisses her as annoying and doesn't notice that she's literally deaf. He's most clueless about his own daughter, whom he doesn't seem to notice has been having distressing dreams and acting very strangely. The irony is that the girl's unusual behavior is directly connected to the old rocks he's obsessed with. If he actually bothered to pay attention to people, and not premises, he might have noticed that. 

Where “Stones” is going with all this talk of ancient ruins and their power over people is not revealed until the final minutes. Whether it's a satisfying pay-off or not is debatable. No answers are provided for the strange power of the stones. Whether an otherworldly force is acting through them or if they are simply imbued with that power through our belief in them, this is not specified. However, Stonehenge sure doesn't want anyone to move it. A show like “Beasts” would connect its more academic ideas to a greater point about human nature, to why these beliefs exist and have endured. “The Mind Beyond” is more about the mysterious nature of these things. This is not as compelling but this episode does generate some spooky vibes. The montage of the stones' magical abilities is well done. The creepiest moment occurs when a photo is found, with one face marked out and two more left. Like “The Blood on Satan's Claws,” “Stones” uses ancient rituals to comment on anxieties around what the kids today are getting up to. Interesting but could've used more murder magic. [6/10]
 

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Root of All Evil

“The Root of All Evil” features probably the grisliest plot device “Friday the 13th: The Series” has cooked up yet. A man working in the garden with his bitchy mother clobbers her over the head with a rake. He then feeds her body into the mulcher, cold hard cash being spit out the other end. Eventually, the machine ends up on the property of a rich woman, currently converting the grounds into a public garden. Among the groundskeeper is Adrian, seemingly a formally homeless youth who owes some people money. After an old enemy harasses him on this, Adrian discovers the money generating powers of the mulcher. He soon intuits the mechanics of this supernatural process: That people worth more in life generate more cash when feed into the machine. Ryan and Jack are soon on the case, while Micki finds herself pulled between her new life and her old one. 

Here's another episode with a silly pun as its title. A need for money is what motivates the Villain of the Week to kill, his job and the nature of the machine putting him literally close to roots and plants. While this observation is about as shallow as can be, “Root of All Evil” almost stumbles on something genuinely thoughtful. Adrian doesn't seem to be a bad guy at first. ___ plays him as tired and in a bad situation, desperate to do anything to survive. When he stumbles onto a device that literally makes money, in exchange for human bodies, it's understandable that he would be tempted to cross some moral boundaries. We are all dependent on how much cash we can make in this sad, capitalistic society of our's. Indeed, most of us have jobs we hate, doing something we normally would not do, simply because we need the paycheck to live. The script almost seems to say that class boundaries are what genuinely force people into bad circumstances that cause them to commit crimes. Sadly, this is tossed out by Adrian becoming more of a blatant, unhinged villain as the episode progresses. How someone's “worth” equates to what the mulcher produces is vaguely defined. Are we talking about their financial worth? Their philosophical worth? A greater point about social structures and what value human life actually could have been made here but the episode falls short. 

Maybe the A-plot is a little underdeveloped because “Root of All Evil” also builds up some continuity in its B-plot. Remember how Micki had a lawyer fiance in the first episode? He's been referenced once or twice since but this is the second time he's actually been on-screen. He wants to know why his bride-to-be is spending all her time at a spooky antiques shop and not with him. An understandable concern but the guy is such an obvious jerk. I'm not surprised this plot point arrives more to write an awkward, lingering premise out. I guess the show deserves points for remembering this detail at all and not simply ignoring it. More than anything else, this sets up more of that hilariously uncomfortable tension between Ryan and Micki. He seems more jealous of her boyfriend than simply concerned about their mission to collect evil objects. Indeed, the guy even suggests that Micki is cheating on him with Ryan. The script points out that they are merely cousins by marriage, the program encouraging its viewers not to be weirded-out by the incest subtext. The same reason why all those videos on the internet are about “stepsisters,” in other words. Anyway, this episode is notably for its gory set-up but certainly needed to be further fleshed out. [6/10]