Halloween 2025: September 6th

 

Final Destination (2000)

It started, as all things do, with an idea. Jeffrey Reddick heard the old urban legend about a woman telling her daughter not to get on a plane, a warning the girl heeds. The next day, the plane the girl was supposed to be on crashes, her mother's premonition having saved her life. (Or he saw "Sole Survivor," a 1984 horror flick inspired by the same story.) Reddick broke into Hollywood at fourteen, after sending his "A Nightmare on Elm Street" fanfic to New Line Cinema and badgering Rob Shaye about it after the script was rejected. At the time, he was trying to get into TV and thought this story could be the basis for an episode of "The X-Files." The spec script he wrote never made it to the "X-Files" writers' room but his friends at New Line read it and saw the potential for a good movie. Ironically, the script that was now called "Final Destination" ended up in the hands of James Wong and Glen Morgan, a duo best known for writing some of the freakier episodes of "The X-Files." Wong made his directorial debut with "Final Destination," which became a sleeper hit for New Line at the start of the new millennium. This would kick-off a new horror franchise for the House That Freddy Built. 

High school senior Alex Browning is preparing to leave on a class trip to Paris, his best friend Tod in tow. A small mechanical malfunction aboard the plane sets off a catastrophic chain reaction that ends with all the passengers dying in a massive explosion... Or so Alex sees in an apparent psychic vision. Once minor details from his promotion start to come true, Alex freaks out. He starts a fight with class bully Carter that results in the two of them – along with Tod, Carter's girlfriend, teacher Miss Lewton, Alex's crush Clear, and some random guy named Billy – getting thrown off the plane. Afterwards, they all witness the Boeing going up in a massive fireball, Alex's premonition having saved their lives. However, an eerie feeling continues to float over the survivors. Tod dies shortly afterwards in a bizarre bathroom accident, that is mistaken for a suicide. Alex becomes convinced that all of them were meant to die on that plane and now Death itself is claiming each of them, one by one. When Carter's girlfriend and their teacher die in similarly strange mishaps, Alex becomes obsessed with what the mortician William Bludworth calls "Death's design." He seeks to interrupt the preordained series of events and save Clear, Carter, and his own life before Death comes for them again.

In one roundabout way or another, most horror movies are about the fear of death. All of our lives are destined to end someday, an inescapable fate none of us can avoid or have much control over. "Final Destination" is a horror movie about this idea in a much more literal way than most. An unexplained intervention prevents Alex from dying in a horrible accident but this is only a brief reprieve, the inevitability of death sure to catch up with him eventually. Rather than get too existential about it, "Final Destination" takes this idea in the far sillier direction of death being a personified concept with a strict plan that gets extra creative and vindictive when his carefully constructed pattern is interrupted. Alex becomes an obsessive conspiracy theorist type, seeing secret codes and patterns in the random events around him that he interprets as further evidence of "Death's design." If only he can decipher this code – presented almost literally as a puzzle, after the accident that caused the plane explosion reveals the order everyone was originally destined to die in – maybe he can prevent these events from happening. That this conviction makes Alex, functionally, indistinct from a raving lunatic is probably the closest thing "Final Destination" has to a wider thematic point. We're all going to die, sooner or later, and trying to outrun that fate leads only to madness. Better to live your life without agonizing too much about how you're gonna die. Or at least, as Clear does, channel those anxieties into personal art pieces rather than become a schizophrenic who sees a malevolent force eager to act all around him. 

Rather than examine this idea from a philosophical direction, Wong and Morgan's film takes Alex's position. The script seems to operate from the perspective that death can be escaped, if only you read the clues right. Following that thought, "Final Destination" is a film littered with subconscious warnings about the characters' ultimate fate. The opening credits look over the model airplanes in Alex's bedroom, hinting at the soon-to-come crash. Before Miss Lewton is killed by an improbably falling butcher knife, a stained glass window over her shoulder depicts a sword floating above her head. A speeding bus or flying piece of shrapnel are preceded by reflections in windows or flashes of lights, signs that these events are forthcoming. Wong and his team are clearly seeking to create an ominous feeling, in hopes that the viewer will feel as paranoid as Alex does, surrounded by a sense that a horrible accident could claim your life at any minute. Which, I suppose, is indeed a possibility. These frequent visual reminders are paired with a melodramatic score from Shirley Walker – a composer best known for her work in the also exaggerated superhero genre – and a generally credulous tone throughout. 

It's a bit overblown and more than a little bit silly, which is probably why an undercurrent of absurdity runs through "Final Destination." The film takes everything that happens very seriously despite it all being quite ridiculous, the dissonance creating a subtext of campy anticipation. I think Wong and company are in on the joke too. That the violent accidents in "Final Destination" happen as the result of elaborate chain reactions, a spontaneous Rube Goldberg machine that leads to somebody's grisly death, feels like a punchline to a steadily built-up joke. This is especially true for the series of unlikely events that result in a cord wrapping around a neck or a knife driven into a chest by a falling chair, combinations of such unlikeliness that you kind of have to laugh at them. When Kristen Cloke gets creamed by a randomly speeding bus or Sean William Scott is decapitated, it plays out like a physical gag. That "Final Destination" is only one step removed from a Raimian "splatstick" gore comedy doesn't prevent it from generating a grim tension in a few sequences. Most notably the opening plane crash, which piles misfortunes atop each other in a suitably out-of-control fashion that makes the viewer feel as caught up in this disaster as the characters. Or a mildly tense set piece of a car stopped on train tracks, which captures a little bit of that same panicked sensation. 

The minute it's revealed that a character has the last name of Hitchcock, it's clear "Final Destination" is one of those movies that sprinkles in homages to horror history. Miss Lewton's first name is Val, about as blatant a reference as you can get. Browning, Chaney, Dreyer, Weine, Murnau and Schreck are the other familiar names tossed around. Despite these shout-outs to the classic era, "Final Destination" focusing on elaborate death scenes makes it more like a slasher film. This is also evident in the "Dawson's Creek"-ready cast of photogenic young actors. The performances range from vacant to silly. Bright-eyed Devon Sawa as Alex gets increasingly sweaty as the material gets broader. Kerr Smith as Carter is a blustering cartoonish bully, while Sean William Scott is playing a slightly only less silly version of his “American Pie” character. Ali Larter, as Clear, and Kerr Smith as Carter, as Tod, are mostly stiff and unconvincing. The character remain archetypal in their simplicity, as they typically do in a slasher, though the movie at least gets points for not being as outwardly dismissive towards them as a lot of similar films are. Tony Todd's character exists to deliver some exposition but Todd was such an artist with screen presence that he makes the goofy dialogue sound sinister and impressive. 

By the way, “Final Destination'” origins as an “X-Files” spec script is still evident. The FBI agents floating around the margins of the story seem to suspect Alex might be a serial killer offing his friends or a terrorist who blew up the plane. The two have a scene, talking about whether the predictions of the future could exists, that you could easily slot Mulder and Scully into. It's not hard to imagine a version of this story with the investigator as the protagonists. Ending with a blunt cut-to-black that also operates as a pay-off to a sick joke, “Final Destination” takes the viewer out with a twisted smile on their face. It squanders a lot of potential with a shallow approach to its own ideas but remains a reasonably entertaining genre experience. Considering “Final Destination” came out during a time when slick “Scream” rip-offs made up a lot of the genre, the movie surely must've felt like a fresh approach at the time. It holds up fairly well. [7/10]

 

 

Meatcleaver Massacre (1977)

When future right-wing talk radio host and life-long hack Michael Medved named Edward D. Wood Jr. the “Worst Director of All Time” in 1980, he plucked the name out of obscurity and insured the filmmaker an undying cult following. Ed Wood doesn't merely have fans, he has devotees. I mean that almost literally, as Wood is at the center of a highly sarcastic but legally recognized religion. Wood archivists genuinely exist and they've unearthed lost works of his with some regularity. For example: It was long rumored that Wood had some involvement with 1976 trash-slasher “Meatcleaver Massacre” but, in 2022, cinematographer Roy H. Wagner confirmed that ol' Eddie boy basically directed the whole movie. That would make it the last Ed Wood movie, as he died three years later. First released as “Hollywood Meatcleaver Massacre,” the distributor later stitched on an introduction Christopher Lee had filmed for a totally unrelated project and chopped the “Hollywood” off the title. Now this utter obscurity is available on spiffy special edition Blu-Rays, both cuts bundled together and all cleaned up and full of special features. If only Ed had lived to seen it...

Professor Cantrell gives a lecture to his class about a Gaelic demon named Morak, said to be summoned to deliver bloody vengeance against those that have wronged another. Among Cantrell's class is Mason, an anti-social burn-out. That night, he meets up with his friends – long-haired hippy Sean, mechanic Dirk, sleaze ball Phil – and the group decides to pay Professor Cantrell a visit. Donning masks and wielding knives, they break into the man's house and brutally stab his wife and daughter to death. Contrell is left in a coma. From his hospital bed, his thoughts call out to Morak. Soon, Mason and his friends begin to experience bizarre hallucinations and nightmares. A demonic force is closing in and picking them off one by one. A police detective, who uncovered a triangular patch of cloth from Dirk's jacket at the crime scene, investigates.

In the same social media post where he confirmed that Wood directed most of the movie, Roy Wagner also revealed that shooting occurred over a four day period. This is evident, as the movie's narrative often operates as if it was made up along the way. We never learn anything about any of the character, all of them existing as thinly defined entities. Why Mason hates his college professor so much, or why he's such a belligerent psychopath in general, is never discussed. His friends seem to go along with the murderous plan on a whim. The plot, as it is, operates in an extremely simple, A-to-B fashion. This assholes kill a guy's family, he summons a demon to avenge them, and then they all die in supernatural ways. Despite that simplicity, “Meatcleaver Massacre” pads its slim 77 minute run time with lots of people walking around, hanging out in dingy apartments, or existing in various places of business. If you expect that subplot about the detective or the one guy's girlfriend working in a rub-and-tug massage parlor to amount to anything, you are definitely watching the wrong movie. 

Not that such a slapped-together production, with a paper-thin plot and non-existent characters, would be atypical for an Edward D. Wood Jr. movie. However, the director often paired his zero budget production values and nonsensical scripts with bizarre dialogue and a spunky, do-it-yourself flow. “Meatcleaver Massacre” mostly lacks these qualities, perhaps owing to Wood being a last minute replacement and a barely functioning alcoholic at the time. Occasionally, however, a bit of that old Wood-ian weirdness emerges. Such as in a hilarious sequence where Dirk seems to seriously consider slashing his wrist with a straight razor before glancing at his watch and shouting, “I'm gonna be late for work!” Or a customer in that sleazy sex shop being either a priest or a man posing as a priest. Another highly quotable line is a doctor in a mental institute looking in at a cackling patient and declaring “This is my first nut!” Before Morak takes out each guy, they have strange nightmares or visions. One of which involves wandering through a misty funeral home and a dead body wrapped in a white sheet on a beach. The long-haired hippy is taken out after wandering into the desert, the scene cut in such a matter that it looks like he's been killed by the leaves of an agave plant. So that's pretty funny. 

If “Meatcleaver Massacre” can be said to have any merits when taken as a stand-alone artifact, it is in the same way a lot of exploitation movies are: As an accidental time capsule of its time and place. There is a sequence, where Phil is walking down Sunset Avenue. The most famous landmark he passes is the Roxy Theater, which is advertising a late night screening of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” He also passes a lot of much sleazier venues and shops, showing pornography of varying degrees. Yes, “Meatcleaver Massacre” does have a little bit of that super greasy and washed-out atmosphere you find in extremely low budget and nasty grindhouse flicks of the time. There was definitely a Manson family influence on the home invasion premise, which was almost a decade out of date by the late seventies. However, the scraggly, long-haired, and polyestered actors – all of whom appear to be strung-out on one type of substance or another – does generate that seventies sense of nihilism. That the idealism of the sixties had failed and drugs and hedonism were all we got left with.  

This is interesting but not enough to make up for “Meatcleaver Massacre” mostly being a total nothing-burger of a movie. The close-ups of the weird-ass paintings seen throughout are fun. When Morak kills a guy with a car hood latch, that was mildly entertaining. However, the “Meatcleaver Massacre” experience is mostly summed up by the Christopher Lee bookends. Lee intoning grimly about pseudo-mystical mumbo-jumbo for six minutes sounds fun, like “In Search Of...” if it was hosted by Dracula and not Spock. In actuality though, the Lee sequences are flatly shot and rather monotonous. If you give Wood credit for the movie, you can smell the boozy fumes coming off the entire project. The other people behind the film were screenwriter Keith Burns, whose only other credit is a TV clip-show about Ernie Kovacs. The second credited writer is Ray Atherton. He mostly worked as a producer with credits like “F.A.R.T. The Movie,” video tapes collecting violent accident footage, and a documentary about L.A. queer culture starring a physically disabled tap dancer that later spawned an internet meme. Oh, he also played the guy who gets killed with the TV in “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.” All of which implies that the behind-the-scenes details of “Meatcleaver Massacre” – no one is massacred with a meat cleaver, by the way – are more interesting than the actual movie itself. [4/10]

Thriller: The Incredible Doktor Markesan

Boris Karloff hosted every episode of “Thriller,” of course, but he appeared as a character in the stories themselves a handful of times as well. Of these five appearances within “Thriller's” narratives, “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” is easily the best regarded. First Darren Dick York stars as Fred, a perpetually broke young man. Alongside his young wife, Molly, he drives to the estate of his rich uncle, Konrad. Konrad Markesan was a notable professor at the local college at one point and Fred and Molly hope he can help them find work, or at least provide them with a place to stay for a while. When the two arrive at the home, they find it dilapidated and slowly being consumed by the swamp around it. The house appears empty at first and, when Konrad finally does appear, his behavior is strange and his appearance is sickly. He allows the couple to stay in the home but under one condition: They must not roam around the house at night. He locks them into their bedroom every day at sundown to insure this. However, Molly and Fred are both curious about what's going on with Uncle Konrad. They soon break their promise to him and uncover that the old man has been performing unnatural experiments. Oh yeah, and that him and his work colleagues – also seen lurking around the house – have been dead for ten years. 

“Thriller” was a series that often succeeded in bringing a classic horror atmosphere to the small screen. “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” excels in this regard and it's not surprising once you read that it was directed by Robert Florey. That's the same guy who directed “Murders in the Rue Morgue,” among the foggiest of Universal's mist-strewn classic monster movies. Florey worked in almost every genre over his long career but was especially good at the macabre stuff. “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” is awash with smoky fog. The climax features an old family crypt, reeking with age and clouded in darkness. The setting is primarily a crumbling old mansion, filled with shadows and dust. When Karloff first appears the title character, it's with waxy flesh and massive bags under his eyes. He's the first of a handful of similarly sunken-eyed ghouls that show up. This classically spooky ambiance is supported by moody cinematography that often adopts askew or stylized camera angles and a score that layers on the quivering strings and shrill shrieks. Karloff, meanwhile, is at his most sinister as an ancient old man that moves between utterly zombified and surprisingly threatening.

That “The Incredible Doktor Markesan” has such incredible atmosphere makes up for a story that is fairly predictable. The episode is adapted from a script by frequent Lovecraft colleague August Derleth. While there's no cosmic horrors about in this one, the premise of a younger man discovering a disturbing family secret created through profane scientific experiments isn't that far off from something Howard Phillips might have written. The reveal that his uncle is an undead ghoul of some sort isn't that shocking and it takes Fred entirely too long to figure that out. In general, the episode is a bit heavy on the young couple bickering. 

However, there is something appealing about the classic set-up here, the “Bluebeard”-esque promise of comfort and security as long as someone simply doesn't explore further. The exact motivations of Markesan's experiments aren't revealed until the very end and remain a bit vague then too. The script works best when suggesting something weird and disturbing going on. Such as when Molly gets a glimpse of the old man forcing the other zombies to exhaustively repeat a speech praising him. Someone catching a glimpse of a weird, forbidden ritual that they don't understand but clearly realize they should not be seeing is a trope that almost always gives me the willies. Like most of the “Thriller” episodes I've seen, this does lead up to a properly chilling and surprisingly grim ending, which sends the viewer out on a fittingly creepy note. Doesn't hit quite as hard as “The Cheaters” or “The Hungry Glass” but still a nicely spooky hour of television. [7/10]

 

 

The Addams Family: Gomez, the People's Choice

An early season one episode of “The Addams Family” was entitled “Gomez, the Politician” but was actually about the patriarch of the eccentric family canvasing for another politician altogether. The idea was revisited with “Gomez, the People's Choice.” Upon receiving the tax bill for their home, Gomez and Morticia are disgusted to see their stately manor is only worth 84 dollars. They head to the mayor's office to demand to pay more, only for the glad-handing politician to offer to lower their bill instead. Gomez is outraged and, upon seeing his political rant, Morticia talks him into running for mayor. His bizarre ideas prove surprisingly appealing to the public and his campaign starts to gain steam. So much so that Gomez becomes too distracted by his new career to pay proper attention to his wife. Morticia and the rest of the family conspire to undo Gomez' latest ambitions. 

See, this is why the Addams Family are perhaps the only good millionaires: Not only do they pay their taxes, they demand to pay more than they owe! I can't imagine Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg ever trying to get into politics on that platform. As you'd probably expect, “The Addams Family” was not a series made for serious political commentary. Gomez' campaign is built entirely on nonsensical slogans. He spews a bunch of cliches and has Whizzo – the family super-computer introduced in “The Addams Family Splurges" – spit out topics for him to rant on. That's a surprisingly relevant message in our post-truth era, when a far less charming billionaire lunatic spouting completely inane bullshit somehow swindled his way into the White House twice. The Trump parallels become far more obvious in the second half. When Morticia and the others start attempting to sabotage Gomez' career with one scandal after another, his opponent realizes this will only make more popular with voters and immediately concedes. Very ahead of its time, that observation was. 

The middle stretch of this episode does feel a little limp. The beginning – of the family all engaged in their wacky hobbies before the tax bill ruins their day – is a solid gag. The last third features some really funny bits. Morticia rattling off a series of French phrases that go unnoticed by her husband, consumed in his political rhetoric, and getting increasingly aghast at what is happening is a wonderful moment. As is Morticia's attempt to portrayed a battered wife, which falls apart the minute her husband starts kissing her arm, turning her cries of anguish into ones of ecstasy. See, the wacky relationships between these character is why I love this show! That same sequence features a good joke about Uncle Fester pretending to be an escaped criminal. I also like the reveal concerning where the Addams got the signatures needed to approve his political run. Needed more silliness like that and less scenes of Whizzo the computer blowing confetti and shooting steam. (Especially not when there's a suitably funny series of gags about smoking earlier in the episode.) [6/10]

Halloween 2023: October 16th

The Nightshifter (2018)

My knowledge of Brazilian horror films begins and ends with Coffin Joe, which probably still makes me better read in the subject than most American genre fans. But most of those movies are from the sixties and seventies. What is the modern face of Brazilian horror? There's still not a lot of writing on this subject on h English language web but a few notable titles have emerged in recent years. Ultra-gory slasher “Skull: The Mask” got a little bit of buzz, as did comedy hybrid “Ghost Killers vs. Bloody Mary.” Yet among the more critically praised genre films to emerge from South America's largest country is 2018's “The Nightshifter.” The film is from Dennison Ramalho who, funny enough, co-write the final Coffin Joe movie. Good to see someone carrying on that legacy...

Stênio works the night shift at a morgue in São Paulo. His entire life, he's had the ability to speak with the dead. The recently deceased often confine their life's secrets or last regrets to him as he seals them up on the slab. This ability, and working in the most crime-infested part of the city, leaves Stênio exhausted during the day, straining his relationship with Odette, his wife, and their two young children. One of the corpses that talk to him is the brother of a local gang leader, recently killed by an unknown informant. After discovering that Odette is cheating on him, he uses the information the dead has given him to convince the gangbangers that his her boyfriend is that informant. Yet the execution goes wrong and Odette is killed too. His sanity begins to fray and he's filled with guilt... But that's only the beginning, as his wife's spirit is determined to have her revenge. 

One of the most interesting things about “The Nightshifter” is how it expands beyond that central premise. The idea of a morgue attendant who can speak to the dead is really only the beginning of its story. Instead, the film is better defined as something of a morality play, of a grievously mistaken antihero slowly making a Hell of his own life. Stênio, played with blurry-eyed intensity by Daniel de Olivira, is told not to exploit the secrets of the dead. He does so anyway, using the information to get close to local gang leader. This ends up getting his wife killed but that's only the beginning of Stênio's personal nightmare. The killers are soon found dead too, nightmares bleed into reality, and his children are endangered as well. Every bad thing that happens to Stênio is a result of his own desire for petty revenge. If he had just left his wife, like a normal person, none of these misfortunes would've effected him.

Also supporting “The Nightshifter” is Ramalho's ability to engineer some pretty gnarly scare sequences. Whenever the corpses speak to Stênio, a clever mixture of practical make-up and CGI is used to make the effect especially uncanny. That classic jump-scare of the morgue locker doors swinging open on their own is utilized well. It also builds to a far more intense sequence, where the protagonist is locked inside. Easily the highlight of the film is when some razor-lined kite wire makes a surprise return, a sequence that plays out in a nicely extended, gruesome fashion. Overall, the film does a great job of balancing gruesome special effects – most notably in the extended autopsy scenes – with a gloomy atmosphere of shadowy dread. This is most apparent during a scene, possibly a dream, where the morgue is overwhelmed with bodies from a mudslide. 

Sadly, as “The Nightshifter” goes on, the style of scares it focuses on shifts as well. The film is most interesting when focusing on the idea that Stênio has violated some sort of mystical law by telling a dead man's secret. However, in the second half, the idea that Odette's spirit specifically haunting the protagonist takes center stage. More traditional haunted house movie scares follow after that, such as accusing words written on the ceiling in lipstick or ghostly faces appearing in a jar. It seems the script is indecisively balanced between the idea that the supernatural revenge being visited on Stênio is more personal or more general. When combined with a runtime that borders on two hours, “The Nightshifter” starts to get a little tedious as you wait for the inevitable pay-off. 

From a cultural perspective, “The Nightshifter” is interesting. Compared to the Coffin Joe films I'm used to, which feel timeless because of how they invoke the Gothic tradition, “The Nightshifter” is very contemporary. With its focus on street gangs and corrupt police, it sometimes feels more like “City of God” or something like that, than a traditional horror film. I imagine a lot of the themes here, of guilt and revenge among street criminals, are culturally specific in a way that goes over my dumb-ass American head. The first half works very well, before it descends into more typical ghost movie shenanigans. Still, there's some real talent on display here and I hope Dennison Ramalho returns to the genre soon enough. By the way, the actual Portuguese title translate to “Among the Living” but, since there are several fright flicks with that title already, I guess the U.S. distributors decided “The Nightshifter” was a little catchier. [6/10]

Orgy of the Dead (1965)

The final scene of Tim Burton's “Ed Wood” obliquely refers to Edward D. Wood's “slow descent into alcoholism and monster nudie films.”  This does not tell the whole story, of course. After “Night of the Ghouls” collapsed, Wood would attempt to get screenplays produced and sell novels when he could. Eventually, as changing censorship laws made the “nudie cutie” sub-genre a brief fad, Wood would transition to these bottom-of-the-barrel productions. He crossed paths with Stpehen C. Apostolof, a Bulgarian immigrant who previously wrote a Cold War drama named “Journey to Freedom.” Wood would adapt his own novel for Apostolof and the cinematic “Orgy of the Dead” was born. While Apostolof, credited as A.C. Stephens, would direct, this is a Wood production through and through. The half-assed classic horror trappings, presence of sham-psychic Criswell, and utterly surreal dialogue mark this crude fusion of dime store Halloween decorations and burlesque stripteases as another escapee from Wood's twilight nether realm. 

The plot, as it is, concerns horror writer Bob and his girlfriend, Shirley. They drive around, in search of a mysterious cemetery that might inspire Bob, but end up in a wreck instead. The two awaken in the same cemetery, which is overlooked by a seemingly undead Emperor and his Princess of the Night. They tie Bob and Shirley up and force them to watch the nights' entertainment: A number of (female and topless) damned souls, as they dance for the enjoyment of the graveyard's ghostly residents. Which also includes a werewolf and a mummy, henchmen of the Emperor. Bob and Shirley bicker, plot an escape, get pawed at by the Princess, and mostly just watch as the stripteases go on and on. Finally, sunlight banishes all the ghoulies. 

No less an authority than Frank Henenlotter has called nudie cuties “some of the dumbest movies ever made.” Considering the films existed entirely to showcase naked women but couldn't directly reference sex in any way, such contrived awkwardness was probably unavoidable. “Orgy of the Dead” is, essentially, a series of filmed burlesque acts, the women stripping down to G-strings. Each dancer is given some vague backstory: One was said to a streetwalker in life, another a lover of matadors. Yet the film's set-ups are generally weirder than that. One dancer is pelted with gold coins before being dropped in a pot of molten gold. (Off-screen, as such a sight was surely beyond the film's meager budget.) Another performs an extremely awkward “Indian war dance,” while another dance routine is intercut with stock footage of a rattle snake. By far the film's strangest moment concerns a “cat woman” who slowly slinks out of a leopard costume.  There's a zombie woman and a bride who spins her dead husband's skeleton around too.

Considering films like “Orgy of the Dead” were meant merely to titillate by showcasing naked bodies, I guess it succeeds. I mean, you sure do see lots of boobs and butt cheeks here. Yet it's hard to imagine anyone getting off to this. Supposedly, the filmmakers couldn't afford to hire a choreographer, forcing all the women to improvise their dance routines. This is all too apparent, as the stripteases are usually stiff and graceless. The women are all attractive, I suppose, and don't waste much time before revealing their bodies. But their shaking and shimmying seems likelier to cause giggles than boners. The bride unenthusiastically wiggles her tits, the streetwalker glares at the camera,  and the Indian woman contorts around in such a way as to make her belly stick out. When combined with the largely stationary style of filming and threadbare Halloween ambiance, the result is more stupefying than arousing. 

Which brings us to the main value “Orgy of the Dead” holds in the modern day: Camp. The tossed together graveyard setting, with its foam tombstones and generous fog, is charming in much the same home-made fashion as Wood's attempts at horror movies. The film cuts away to a werewolf and a mummy, who trade extremely inane dialogue. The mummy's barely coherent thoughts about snakes and Cleopatra truly baffle. Utterly (udderly?) bizarre dialogue was, after all, Ed Wood's greatest gift to trash-cinema lovers. Criswell – clearly reading off cue cards but giving it his hammy all – pontificates in only the way he could. His readings of lines like “Torture! It pleasures me!” and “Be the cat!” truly must be heard to be believed. Bob and Shirley have some circular conversations, about the merits of horror fiction and whether she hates or loves him. Criswell's ghoul-friend, a part intended for Vampira but instead played by a sleepy Fawn Silver, provides the closest thing the film has to a plot, with her ambiguous longing for Shirley. She is frequently shouted down by the Emperor's bizarre demands. He just keeps wanting one more dance, even as dawn draws closer!

Add it all together and you have what is surely one of the strangest attempts at eroticism ever put to celluloid. Wood was apparently drinking heavily by this point, even stealing from the film's budget to buy more booze. Greater indignities would face him soon enough, as he would eventually move on to directing actual hardcore pornography. Yet “Orgy of the Dead” provides another chance to spend some time in his extremely weird, campy, haunted brain. The head-scratching dialogue entertains, the cheapie classic horror atmosphere is charming, and the film's supreme awkwardness results in frequent laughter. It didn't need to be ninety minutes long and the endless dance routines eventually become tedious. This is why I have to disagree with the otherwise extremely trust-worthy Bleeding Skull's proclamation that this is the greatest trash film of all time. Yet “Orgy of the Dead” is certainly something. [6/10]

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: The Tale of the Shiny Red Bicycle

Once again, I attempt to see if kid-friendly horror series “Are You Afraid of the Dark,” beloved among many people my age, is for me. “The Tale of the Shiny Red Bicycle” follows adolescent Mike Buckley. Two years ago, his best friend Ricky died tragically. The boy plummeted into a rushing reservoir after his distinctive red bicycle fell off a bridge.  The incident still haunts him and, recently, Mike has began to have waking visions of Ricky and his bike. As the ghostly incidents grow more intense, Mike realizes that Ricky's ghost has returned not to torment him but to warn him. It turns out that Mike's little brother, Ben, is close to befalling a fate similar to Ricky's.

The handful of episodes of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” I've watched has made one thing apparent about this show: It was capable of producing mildly creepy, if totally fangless, scares from time-to-time. You see this briefly in “The Tale of the Shiny Red Bicycle.” Despite the obviously lacking production values, the images of ghostly Ricky clinging still to his red bike would probably be enough to spook a really young or really sensitive kid. A nightmare Mike has, of the ghost appearing over his bed and slowly approaching him, is probably the high-light of the episode. Matthew Edison also gives a decent performance, at least by the admittedly steep curve of nineties kids shows. 

While some light-hearted chills are not unheard of in “Are You Afraid of the Dark?,” it's still a kiddie show. Often, whatever makes an episode effective is undermined by some stupid bullshit. Even though “The Tale of the Shiny Red Bicycle” deals with a rather serious theme – a young boy trying to process the trauma of watching his friend drown and the grief he still feels – it's handled in an awkward fashion. His parents and teachers talk about the other boy's death so casually and callously, that it's hard to take seriously. Everyone expects this kid to just get over watching his friend die, like it's no big deal! Since this is a children's program, no degree of ambiguity is allowed to exist. Ben's ghost just outright explains why he's here in the second half. From what little of it I've seen, this represents a fairly typical episode of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” The lingering shot of a rusted-out bike is pretty cool though... [5.5/10]

The Haunted Mouth (1974)

Debate rages over the merits of the “scared straight” method but, despite that, horror stories and educational films have occasionally combined forces. While the British Public Information Films would elevate informing kids of everyday dangers while also creating viscerally disturbing art, American educational movies tend to be dryer... Though there are amusing exceptions. Such as “The Haunted Mouth,” an educational short from 1974 created by the American Dental Association. Set in a spooky old house, the viewer is addressed by the invisible spirit of bacterial plaque. This spectre of plague is so confident that he can claim your teeth and gums that he even shows the viewer the best way to defeat him: Brush and floss thoroughly every day.

A few elements elevate “The Haunted Mouth” above a mere instructional video for children. First off, it opens with a genuinely creepy point-of-view shot of someone walking into the haunted house. Whoever did the production design and cinematography for this little movie should really be commended for properly setting a fittingly spooky ambiance. (The American Dental Association is the sole credited producers for the film, so we don't know who did what exactly.) Once the ghostly plaque entity goes about demonstrating what it can do to teeth, “The Haunted Mouth” also features some icky close-ups of a bleeding mouth and models of teeth rotting and gums becoming inflamed. The way the infected spots glow red successfully capture the feeling of a lingering tooth ache.

The other thing that makes “The Haunted Mouth” more than just a video telling kids to brush their damn teeth is Cesar Romero – yes, the Joker himself – playing the plaque phantasm. Romero really digs into the voiceover, rolling his Rs with absolutely villainous glee. The way he assures viewers that they still won't practice proper oral hygiene, that the threat of plague of will claim their teeth anyway, is extremely well done. Romero's hammy, amusing vocal performance patches over the dryer parts of this short which are truly just devoted to showing kids how to correctly brush and floss. The film concludes with a kaleidoscope of sweet treats, tempting children to make bad dietary choices that could ravage their teeth. If I had seen this short as a kid, I don't know how much it would've influenced me to floss every day. Took me years to get the hang of that personally. But I definitely would've appreciate the spooky vibes this one captures. [7/10]

Halloween 2022: October 20th

Congo (1995)

One really can't undersell how big of a cultural phenomenon “Jurassic Park” was in the nineties. It renewed the public's fascination with dinosaurs. It opened the floodgates for digital effects. It also made a shit ton of money, from both ticket sales and merchandise. Studios were eager to recreate that level of success. And what better than another Michael Crichton adaptation, with heavy sci-fi/horror elements? Crichton had actually conceived of “Congo” as a movie first back in the eighties, as a star project for Sean Connery. By the time it actually got made, the film was clearly being positioned as the massive summer blockbuster of 1995. Things didn't quite work out that way but, in the years since, “Congo” has become something of a camp classic among nineties nostalgists. 

Communication company TraviCom has sent an expedition into the Congo rain forest to find diamonds, to power their satellites. Instead, the team is mysteriously killed by unseen creatures. A second team, headed by Dr. Karen Ross, is assembled. Meanwhile, primatologist Peter Elliot seeks to return Amy, a gorilla he has taught sign language, home to Africa. An eccentric Romanian businessman agrees to pay for the trip but only because he thinks it will lead him to Zinj, the legendary lost city and home of King Solomon's mine. Karen talks Elliot into combining their expeditions. Once in Africa, mercenary Monroe Kelly leads them through the war-torn country to their destination. As they draw closer to Zinj, they encounter a race of highly aggressive, gray gorillas. 

“Congo” was a fifty million dollar, big studio production with a plum June release date. Director Frank Marshall, formally of “Arachnophobia,” shot at least some of the movie on-location. IMDb tells me the movie was filmed in Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda – but not the Democratic Republic of the Congo –  as well as Costa Rica. (Where I suspect the majority of shooting was done.) Despite that, “Congo” feels weirdly cheap. Frequently, the camera focuses on the actors standing around a couple of trees, making it look like they're on a set. The normally insanely talented cinematographer Allen Daviau lights most of the movie in a bland, flat fashion. Despite the scope of the story, and the scale of the African continent, “Congo” feels strangely cloistered in. One wonders if Marshall wasn't working a little too hard to imitate the look and feel of jungle adventure B-movies from the fifties.

In its best moments, “Congo” leans into this B-movie sensibilities. The film is at its best the wackier it is. The most thrilling moment is a hippopotamus attack, which is no laughing matter but it's presented in a cartoonish manner. The movie casually tosses around far-out ideas, like sci-fi laser technology or people warding off heat-seeking missiles with flare guns. The funniest moments probably involve Amy, a talking gorilla brought to life through some stiff animatronic suits. Scenes of her slurping down a Martini, burping, or demanding tickles can produce only giggles. By the finale, where some rather unconvincing lava effects are ripping through the lost city of Zinj, “Congo” has embraced its trashy roots entirely. 

Maybe “Congo” becoming a big, goofy camp-fest was inevitable. After all, Bruce Campbell appears within the opening minutes. (Albeit only to be violently murdered by a gorilla shortly afterwards.) It seems the cast was all too aware of what level the material functions on. “Congo” is full of beloved character actors hamming it the fuck up. Ernie Hudson plays Monroe, adopting a ridiculous refined accent through most of the movie. Not to be outdone, Tim Curry affects a ludicrous Eastern European accent as Herkermer, chewing the scenery gratuitously in only the way he could. Joe Don Baker repeatedly screams to the heavens as the greedy businessman. “Congo's” cast is so stacked that two great character actors – Delroy Lindo and Joe Pantoilano – go uncredited. Lindo yells about sesame cakes and Joey Pants rips it up on an airport runway.

Such a cast being ridiculous in a movie about killer gorillas should be a blast, right? And yet “Congo” is strangely lifeless for long stretches of its runtime. Maybe that's because Laura Linney and Dylan Walsh, in the leads, are playing things too straight. Perhaps that's because the evil gray gorillas don't really show up until the last third. Or was “Congo” just pulled between its status as a tentpole release and its when-animals-attack tendencies? The gorilla scenes are weirdly cut. An attack in the temple employs some truly distracting slow-motion. Once the beasts are on-screen, the film always cuts away before they rip people apart. I seriously wonder if this wasn't cut down from an R rating to a PG-13. Heads are ripped off and smashed but they are all awkwardly framed off-screen. A bad gorilla getting its arm zapped off is the goriest moment and even it feels censored. 

Paramount clearly had high hopes for “Congo.” The film was supported by a flood of merchandise. There was a whole line of action figures, which warmed clearance rack pegs for years to come. There was a video game, a fondly recalled Taco Bell promotion, and even a pinball machine. And the movie was a hit, grossing 152 million worldwide, but that fell far short of “Jurassic Park's” massive run. That, along with the negative reviews, is probably why the film was regarded as a failure at the time. Considering everything it has going for it, I suppose I can't help but be disappointed that “Congo” isn't more fun, more often. I don't blame folks who look past its flaws and only remember the gonzo moments or amusing stars that prove most memorable. Yet the movie as a whole doesn't hold together for me. [6/10]

The Oily Maniac (1976)

I'm going to lay this on the table here: I'm woefully inexperienced to Hong Kong cinema. I know it's insanely my kind of thing but there's just so much of it. That's intimidating. But I do know that Shaw Brothers Studio was one of the leaders in insane martial arts cinema. I also know that, in addition to their countless kung-fu movies, Shaw Bros. also made a good number of oddball horror movies. Obscure in the states for years, these movies have been getting more exposure worldwide in the past decade thanks to DVD and Blu-Ray releases. One such title is “The Oily Maniac,” a loose remake of a Malaysian series of films inspired by a monster from local mythology. Sounds like a great place for me to start my Shaw Bros. exposure. 

Shen Yuan gets around on a pair of crutches, do to having polio as a kid. He works in a law office. One night, he and his childhood crush, Yue, witness a group of tough guys trying to intimidate his uncle. His uncle kills one of the guys in self-defense and is sent to trial for it, getting the death sentence. In his final hours, his uncle shows Shen Yuan a tattoo on his back that gives magical instructions on how he can be avenged. Digging a hole into the earth under his home, Yuan becomes the Oily Maniac, a greasy and slimy entity with incredible powers. He uses his new abilities to punish the wicked. Yet the line between justice and madness is a thin one.

As a monster movie, “The Oily Maniac” is delightfully nutty. The titular creature has glaring eyes, exposed jaws, and a drippy body made of black sludge. He can turn into an oil slick, allowing him to sneak into any number of places, such as through a bath drain or into a car. He can use it to pursue people more quickly. This is depicted via wonderfully goofy animation. The Oily Maniac's presence is always proceeded by a sound-a-like of the “Jaws” theme playing on the soundtrack. Shen Yuan, played by “Inframan's” Danny Lee, transforms into the monster whenever he covers himself in oily substances. This is a more common occurrence then you'd expect, the unlikeliness of the situation peaking when he crawls into a oil barrel on a busy street. The oil is also fatal to other people, the maniac smearing it on his victims face. In one of the film's funniest scenes, he even sprays it as a projectile. 

“The Oily Maniac” isn't just a monster flick though. The film is, in fact, a delirious genre hybrid of horror, martial arts action, superhero plotting, and exploitation thrills. Despite moving incredibly stiffly in the monster attack scenes, the Oily Maniac is still able to kick some ass in later scenes. Considering the Shaw Bros. pedigree, it should be unsurprising that the fight scenes are well choreographed. But these are even better, because the main fighter is wearing a rubbery oil slick suit. The scenes devoted to the Maniac quickly running off or scaling buildings and construction sites are hysterical. The violence ranges from simple strangulation, head bashing, and sword fights, to someone being beaten to death with a bicycle. 

The crud-covered cherry atop this greasy sundae is a heaping dose of sleaze. A deep vein of misogyny flows through “The Oily Maniac.” Through his job at the law firm, Yuan learns about a lawsuit where a woman accuses a man of rape. We see both his version of events, where she seduced him, and her version, where he violently assaulted her, play out on-screen. It seems the accusations are false and the Oily Maniac hunts her down afterwards. Later, the Maniac attacks a surgeon who deformed a woman's breasts during surgery. Apparently, she makes extra cash by repairing the hymens of girls being pimped. This is not the extent of “The Oily Maniac's” sleaziness, as there's other instances of female nudity, gratuitous sex, and women being abused. Moreover, part of Yuen's rampage is motivated by his childhood crush friend-zoning him... But the script makes sure she gets “punished” too, in the only plot choice that made me genuinely uncomfortable. (To make the film further politically incorrect, there's a heaping dose of ableism concerning Yuen's crippled status.)

It's pretty fucked-up but, if the rampant sexism doesn't make you queasy, “The Oily Maniac” can be enjoyed as an utterly nuts cult movie experience. The plot is highly episodic and repetitive, mostly devoted to Yuen discovering a crime, turning into the Oily Maniac, and attacking. While the movie raises questions of when justice becomes lunacy, when destroying evil turns you evil, it's not at all concerned with cerebral issues. In fact, after the Oily Maniac is vanished, the film abruptly ends. Which couldn't be more perfect, honestly. “The Oily Maniac” is the exact kind of midnight movie madness I crave. Incredibly sleazy, morally fucked-up, energetic, and totally unexpected, it's an slimy treat for those with a taste for this kind of thing. [8/10]

Ghost Stories: All Night Diner

I enjoyed the previous episode I watched of extremely obscure and very low budget anthology series “Ghost Stories.” So here's another. “All Night Diner” follows Teri, a frustrated housewife and mother of two who leaves home in the middle of the night to pursue an affair. Along the way, she's stopped by a highway patrolman, who warns her a killer is on the loose. She finds the man soon enough, a shoot-out with the cop following. Fleeing the scene, Teri nearly gets into a wreck. She pulls into Moe's Diner to catch her breath. She finds the staff inside uncomfortably familiar and drives away. Yet it seems Terri can't escape the all night diner, as every path leads back to it.

“Ghost Stories” aired on Fox-Family, the network that was the Pat Robertson owned Family Channel before then. The network – which is now the Disney-owned Freeform – has done everything it can to distance itself from Robertson's puritanical lunacy. Yet “All Night Diner” suggests “Ghost Stories” reflected those conservative Christian values more than expected. This is a half-hour of television all about punishing a woman who dared to abandon her role as wife and mother. The only glimpses we get of her home life are the nagging, whining recollections of her husband and kids we hear in her head. I can't blame her for wanting to get a release from that. But before she can even make it to her midnight booty-call, Terri is caught in a cycle of karmic punishments. She's terrified and then damned to a purgatory for just considering cheating on her husband, not even going through with it. That seems a little harsh.

If it wasn't apparent already, “All Night Diner” is heavy-handed. From the minute Terri arrives at the diner, it's clear she's already died and is now a ghost. The workers and customers of the diner harangue her for her poor moral choices. The script rubs it in further, when we see what happened to her husband. In addition to the one-note story, “Ghost Stories” also looks like it was shot extremely cheaply and quickly. There's an extremely random shoot-out and explosion in this episode but it all looks like it was shot in someone's backyard. There might be more charms hidden in “Ghost Stories” somewhere. I enjoy Rip Torn's melodramatic host segments. But this episode is lame enough to make me reluctant to give further episodes a look. [5/10]

Final Curtain (1957)

I thought I had reviewed every horror movie Edward D. Wood Jr. had a hand in making. However, I recently learned of the existence of “Final Curtain.” That would be a pilot for a TV series called “Portrait of Terror” that Ed Wood created in 1957, which the networks declined to pick up. It disappeared for 55 years until fans uncovered a copy in 2012. “Final Curtain's” plot and production values are meager even by the standards of Ed Wood movies. The pilot follows an actor wandering an empty theater after dark. He looks around and gets creeped out by nothing in particular. He discovers a mannequin of a female vampire, paws it, and then she smiles. He then descends into the basement and uncovers a box, calls it a coffin, and climbs inside. The end? 

“Final Curtain” distills the Ed Wood aesthetic down to its purest form. All 22 minutes are devoted to Duke Moore standing around in a darkened theater. He looks around at the shadowy corners, wide-eyed and gasping. All the while, Dudley Manlove provides some extremely overwrought narration. As you'd expect from Wood's writing, the dialogue is circular, bizarre, and oddly poetic. As if the entire thing couldn't get any more Woodian, Moore makes sure to caress the female mannequin's clothes after he discovers her. (I can't tell if her clothes are angora or not but I'm going to assume as much.) The ending is as abrupt and non-conclusive as possible, doing nothing to answer what any of the proceeding footage means. 

The entire thing is hilarious, nonsensical, and inexplicable. I am not exactly shocked that every TV network in 1957 passed on this. The only conventionally competent element of the film is that the shadowy photography is halfway decent. Otherwise, this is pure Ed Wood insanity, nothing but dramatic faces, insane narration, and random fetishism. I can't even imagine what a whole TV series of programs like this might've looked like. Taken on its own, “Final Curtain” is another fascinatingly weird peek into Ed Wood's nightmare netherworld. [7/10]

Halloween 2021: October 19th

Wrong Turn (2021)

A name that hasn't come up much when discussing the “Wrong Turn” sequels is Alan B. McElroy, the screenwriter of the original movie. McElroy gets a character credit on all the follow-ups, on account of having created Three Finger and his twisted brothers, but didn't have anything to do with them. McElroy – whose wildly divergent other credits include “Halloween 4,” “Spawn,” “Left Behind,” and “The Marine” – decided to return to the franchise he originated recently... Sort of. Ya see, 2021's “Wrong Turn” has been described as both remake or reboot of the series but is, more accurately, described as “Wrong Turn”-In-Name-Only. It ditches the inbred hillbilly cannibals for a totally different story of people on the Appalachian Trail encountering hostile forest dwellers. It's not even set in West Virginia! Still, I was curious enough about the new film to give it a look. It certainly can’t be any worst than the other sequels, right?

Scott is in search of his college age daughter, Jen, who disappeared six weeks earlier while on the Appalachian Trail. He eventually comes to a small town in Southern Virginia, where the locals are unfriendly. He soon uncovers the truth: While hiking with friends, Jen discovered the Foundation, a secret society hiding out in the woods since before the start of the Civil War. After one of her friends senselessly murdered a Foundation member, Jen and the others were put on trial. To save her own life, Jen chooses to integrate into the Foundation. After her father finds the hidden village, Jen has her chance to escape.

Yes, it's accurate to say 2021's "Wrong Turn" is better than most of the direct-to-DVD sequels. Mike P. Nelson, previously of buzzed-about indie "The Domestics," is a way stronger director than Declan O'Brien. There's little shitty CGI or senseless gore. The cinematography is decent and the production design is solid. The central image of the film, of strange hunters in mossy gilly suits with animal skull masks, is striking. There's even some decent visuals, like when a stalker appears in silhouette behind one of the tents. The film is considerably less gory than previous "Wrong Turn" films but scenes involving booby traps, like a pit of Punji sticks, a rolling log, or a crushing platform, are mildly clever. 

But none of that really matters because I actively disliked most of the characters. The establishing moment for Jen's friends is when they are hassled by a local yokel in a bar. Milla, the one in glasses, then explains that her urban millennial friends work just as hard, and have equally difficult lives, as anyone from this small town. I think this is suppose to make the kids seem down-to-earth and likable but the opposite effect is true. Even if what they say is basically true, they come off as conceited and out-of-touch. Worst yet, the film eventually comes around to admit that the kids were right in this scenario. It doesn't help that among the group is Adam, a belligerent and insensitive asshole that acts recklessly and blames others. There's also a lot of bickering in the woods, my least favorite trademark of this series. The characters who aren't annoying are indistinct, such as Jen, a protagonist we never get much insight into.

The worst thing about this "Wrong Turn" is that it lacks any convictions behind its views. At first, I assume this was going to be a story about clueless urbanites fumbling into a ritual society they can't understand and being punished for it. After Adam kills a Foundationer for no goddamn reason, and the movie becomes a shitty rip-off of "Deliverance" for ten minutes, that's what I really expected. When Jen and her friends are abducted by the Foundation, the secret society's leader hands out a brutal form of justice. But it hardly seems unjustified. Moreover, the Foundation is depicted as a near-utopian society and one of the outsiders even decides to stay. Despite that, the movie still treats them as antagonists in the second half. Innocent people get killed and there are violent attacks. Especially in the extended, and thoroughly unnecessary, denouncement. Are we suppose to sympathize with the Foundation or fear them? Make up your mind, movie. You can't have it both ways. 

This "Wrong Turn" also earns some points for being the first in the series actually filmed in the United States. The movie was shot in Ohio, whose verdant woodlands make for a passable facsimile of the Appalachian Trail. I still get the distinct impression that Alan B. McElroy wrote this as a stand-alone script – probably called "The Foundation," which the movie bares as a subtitle in most international markets – before realizing it would be easier to sell it as a "Wrong Turn" reboot. The dialogue even features a potshot at the other sequels, which comes off as petty. Especially because some inbred hillbilly cannibals would've easily improve this movie. Nelson is clearly a talented director but your horror movie can't build suspense when you have characters the audience actively dislikes and such a half-hearted, confused story. [5/10]

Night of the Ghouls (1959)

For most people interested in such things, the story of Edward D. Wood Jr. ends shortly after the release of “Plan 9 from Outer Space,” his anti-masterpiece of outsider filmmaking. That's where the Tim Burton movie wraps up. If you're a real aficionado, you might know that Wood continued to write and direct, ending his career in nudie cuties and hardcore pornography. Yet there is an often overlooked episode in-between these two chapters of Wood-ian history. In 1958, Eddie shot a movie called “Revenge of the Dead.” A slightly unfinished version would have a brief theatrical engagement in one cinema the next year, before seemingly disappearing. Wood ran out of money to pay the film lab and the movie became more-or-less lost for twenty years. That's when sci-fi superfan Wade Williams discovered the footage, bought the rights, re-titled it “Night of the Ghouls,” and gave it a home video release. And so this hidden piece of the Ed Wood story can be “enjoyed” by all.

A medium calling himself “Dr. Acula” operates out of a supposedly haunted house in the woods, the former home of a mad scientist and his monsters. The truth is Acula is a fraud who is out to fleece old ladies out of their money. His girlfriend plays the role of the ghosts, a cover story to keep people away from the home. The police send two men to investigate: The cowardly Patrolman Kelton and Lt. Bradford. As Bradford digs into the phony operation, he also uncovers that mute brute Lobo – the last survivor from the mad scientist's days – also lumbers around the home. 

Part of what makes Wood such a fascinating filmmaker is his tight-knit group of collaborators and his tendency towards self-mythologizing. Wood liked to cast his friends in his movies, which is why certain figures reoccur across his career. “Night of the Ghouls” once again has Criswell – a phony psychic himself – returning to the role of narrator he held in “Plan 9.” This is the third of Wood's films to feature Paul Marco as the buffoonish comic relief character, Patrolman Kelton. Tor Johnson returns to reprise the role of Lobo, from “Bride of the Monster.” Which makes this movie a loose sequel of sorts. Repeated references are made to someone rebuilding the mad scientist's house, papering over the climatic events of “Bride” and allowing this story to exist. In a weird way, Wood's habit of having loose connections between his movies makes him an early pioneer of the idea of a cinematic universe. 

More truthfully, “Night of the Ghouls” is the same thing most of Wood's movies were: An attempt to recreate the sci-fi and classic horror movies that fascinated him so with little money and minimum talent. The script is an unsteady mishmash of various classic genre tropes and unfinished projects of Wood's. The premise of a spooky old building and a fake haunting engineered to cover up criminal activities can be seen in roughly a hundred old dark house movies. Some have noted that the plot resembles “Sucker Money.” The images of ghostly figures traipsing through the fog was Wood's best – and honestly not bad – attempt to recreate the moody atmosphere of old monster movies. Meanwhile, Wood would recycle names, plot points, and footage from various unfinished novels, scripts, and movies of his. 

Another reason “Night of the Ghouls” probably isn't as well known as Wood's earlier efforts is because it's not as entertaining. Compared to the heady absurdity of “Bride” or “Plan 9,” this one is fairly droll. There are long scenes of people talking in empty rooms, shot in a largely static fashion. The plot is scattershot enough that it's hard for the viewer to get too invested. Yet Ed Wood still couldn't restrain his weirdo talent. The dialogue, whether it be the detectives having repetitive conversations or Criswell's grandiose narration, is frequently surreal. The weirdest part of the movie are the séance sequences. Dr. Acula makes a sheet dance across the room to a weird melody and causes a trumpet to float and play itself. The strangest moment of this strange sequence is when a floating face appears, announcing itself as Mongo, the guide of the afterlife. His distorted, circular dialogue and mildly racist voice is unforgettably bizarre. And made all the funnier because the old man and lady just watch in stunned silence.

Even if it's more dull than not, I'm glad “Night of the Ghouls” was unearthed and released. It's pretty rough in spots, just in the sense that it's poorly shot and edited, with a plot that is hard to follow even by the standards of Ed Wood movies. Yet it's weirdest moments are memorably strange. It has a pretty good ending, the duplicitous villain being punished in suitably ironic, E.C. Comics style. Even at its weakest, there's something cozy about hanging out with oddballs like Criswell and Tor Johnson again. I suspect Ed felt much the same way. This would probably be an ideal flick to watch on a late night horror show, with a campy host telling cheesy jokes between scenes. Even if you would probably be fighting sleep during long stretches of it. [5/10]

Black Mirror: Arkangel

“Arkangel,” an episode of “Black Mirror” from its fourth season, follows single mother Marie. After an incident where her young daughter, Sara, briefly disappears while at a playground, she installs ArkAngel in the girl. That would be a microchip implant that allows Marie to monitor Sara's location, see through her eyes, and even censor sights and sounds that might be distressing to her. Following an upsetting incident at school that causes Sara to harm herself, Marie puts the ArkAngel tablet away and promises never to use it again... But as Sara grows into a teenager, and begins to attract the attention of a bad boy love interest, Marie finds her spying on her daughter with the ArkAngel again. With disastrous results.

More than anything else, “Arkangel” is a really sad story about an overprotective parent whose anxieties wind up ruining both her and her daughter's lives. The first scene depicts Sara's birth. Marie feels guilty for having a C-section, as if she's failed as a parent before the child is even born. When it takes a minute for Sara to start crying, Marie begins to panic. This establishes a mother who desperately needs her child, to overcome for own deep insecurities. When she installs a device that essentially adds a parental filter to reality, Marie means well. Yet she ends up stunting her daughter's mental development. By wanting to protect her daughter, she damages her. As with every kid with an overprotective parent, Sara goes behind her mom's back to experience things. At that point, all the ArkAngel does is confirm her worst fears. In other words, Marie creates the scenario she most fears.

What makes this story really work are a strong pair of performances, Rosemarie DeWitt plays Marie, not as a cartoonish villain, but as a woman crippled by her own fears. No matter how many times she puts the ArkAngel tablet away, she always fishes it back out. Because her fears have an almost compulsive grip over her. Breanna Harding is also excellent as Sara in her teenage form. The sense of betrayal she feels after discovering that her mother has been spying on her is keenly felt. The episode was directed by Jodie Foster, who turns the screws nicely and keeps the tension up as the episode coils towards its violent conclusion. 

“Arkangel” probably qualifies for a Halloween marathon do to the unnerving way it shows how technology interacts with real life. The “parental filter” feature manifests as Sara seeing scary or distressing content – from a dog barking to her grandfather having a heart attack – through a digitized mosaic. As with the best of “Black Mirror,” all of the technology here seems fairly plausible. Apparently, “ArkAngel” is not a well regarded episode of this show – I have disengaged with the Discourse because I rarely watch TV when it's new – but I found it to be a fairly disturbing, involving hour. [7/10]

The Return (1973)

If you're wondering how I picked out this year's selection of shorts, I went to IMDb and cross-referenced Short Films and Horror, before going down the list in chronological. That's how I've been finding so many older, obscure gems. Like "The Return," a half-hour British film from 1973 also inspired by an Ambrose Bierce story. It concerns a man arriving at a spooky old mansion, ostensibly to buy it. He quickly worms it out of the caretaker, the sole resident, that the house is said to be haunted. That the previous owner, who despised physical deformity, went into a fit of rage upon discovering his wife was missing a little toe on one foot. He murdered her on their wedding night and her ghost supposedly still haunts the master bedroom. Convinced the previous owner was innocent, the man is determined to stay the night in the bedroom... And soon the truth is revealed.

If you're looking for a classic English ghost story for Halloween, "The Return" should fit the bill. The setting, of a drafty old mansion that is dark and isolated, provides plenty of old-fashioned spooky atmosphere. Combined with the shadowy visuals, the setting does a lot of heavy lifting. Most of the short is devoted to two actors – Peter Vaughn as the visitor and Rosalie Crutchley as the caretaker, both excellent – recounting the grim details of the murder. Which absolutely matches the feeling of sitting around and telling old ghost stories with friends. Especially when it's all done in that very prim and proper English way, where more is revealed by what isn't said than by what is.

The narrative of the short is fairly easy to predict. It doesn't take much foresight to figure out who the visitor really is. Yet the ghostly angle provides just enough mystery to keep you hooked until the final frame. It ends on a wonderfully still visual, following a largely off-screen climax, that tells you everything you need to know. The only thing about "The Return" that doesn't work for me is the musical score, which is often romantic and pastoral when something a lot more sparse and sinister probably would've fit better. Still, this is a well executed bit of haunted house business that I recommend hunting down. [7/10]