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 27th

 

Kraken (2026)
 

The Norwegian film industry has, within the last decade, made an honest attempt to establish itself as an international hot spot. The country can now claim several big budget summer blockbusters of its own, with special effects and urban destruction almost comparable to their Hollywood equivalents. Proving once again that Legendary's “Godzilla” truly did renew global interest in giant monsters, a few of these titles feature enormous beasts. Yes, the tally of Norwegian kaiju movies now totals three. First, there was Roar Uthaug’s “Troll,” about a big ass troll attacking Oslo. Next was “Troll 2,” in which a good big-ass troll fought a bad big-ass troll. Now, another famous beastie from Nordic mythology is getting a similar treatment. “Kraken” arrived earlier this year. It is from director Pål Øie, who has followed in Roar’s footsteps by leaping from slasher flicks to disaster movies to giant monsters. 

Decades ago, several witnesses saw something huge in the waters of the Sognefjord. Today, the deepest of all of Norway’s fjords is now the home of an industrialized salmon farm. The farm makes use of ultra-sonic devices to drive sea lice away from the fish. These machines were invented by Johanne, who distanced herself from the work over ecological concerns. However, with pressure from investors mounting, she’s drawn back to the project. A pair of teenagers disappear on the fjord, their mangled bodies discovered soon afterwards. This is the first of several strange events around the water. Against Johanne’s wishes, the frequencies of the devices are increased. This further agitates something dwelling deep within the waters. It’s not long before a massive tentacled beast is emerging from the fjord, Johannes and her co-workers attempting to stop it from causing more destruction. 

The kraken does not originate in pre-Christian religions or ancient folkloric beliefs, like most of the sea monsters of the Scandinavian region. Instead, it was basically to 1600 Norwegian sailors what Bigfoot was to early 20th century American lumberjacks: A rumored creature spotted briefly but never confirmed, probably based on glimpses of actual animals that were exaggerated over time. Øie follows this lead by basing his “Kraken” in modern ecological concerns. One of the first scenes is of the salmon farm manager showing off a fossilized arrow head. It’s been uncovered because global warming is melting glaciers. Rather than take this as a deeply concerning sign of how man-made industry is changing nature, the guy instead turns it into a sales pitch. Capitalism has no regard for the natural order of things. The dead bodies are piling up. The businessmen are specifically warned against continuing forward. They do it all anyway, further awakening the wrath of a giant monster. In the modern era, Godzilla and his brethren have been distanced from their atomic origins and made more general symbols of anxieties over climate change. “Kraken” applies this same idea to the very Norwegian landscape, of scenic fjords and fishing boats. 

This is also, you’ll notice, a similar plot point to “Jaws” and its ocean of imitators. Rather than have a mayor insisting that the Beaches Are Open, because the tourism industry will take a hit, you’ve got a fishing exec demanding progress be sped up to meet investor demands. This is only the most obvious cue “Kraken” takes from Hollywood blockbusters. The giant monster is proceeded by smaller parasites. They look a lot like the Facehuggers from “Alien.” They act a lot like them too, scurrying around through vents and leaping at people. They also spray caustic black slime, like the Dilophosaurus in “Jurassic Park.” The guy on the receiving end of that ooze is even a tubby technician. The general outline of “Kraken” is reminiscent of a dozen American disaster flicks and monster movies, of an ignored expert being forced to step in and save the day when ignorant capitalist set off a chain reaction of catastrophe. The characters – a rebellious daughter, a stoic ex-lover, a cocky police officer – are all stock part roles too. 

That is what truly keeps “Kraken” from pulling me in, that its cast and characters are never developed beyond familiar clichés. That’s a bummer, because the technical film-making is strong. The special effects are quite good, the enormous tentacles providing a proper sense of scale. The sequences in which the heroine has to crawl through vents while avoiding detection from the parasites are decently suspenseful. The movie is also gorier than I expected, showing us the mutilated remains of the monster’s victims closer than anticipated. The final act, in which we come face to face with the giant eye of the beast, naturally bring some Lovecraftian energy to the motion picture as well. All of this suggests that, with a more layered and unique script, “Kraken” probably could have been a scarier, deeper experience.

A faster pace would’ve helped too. The film is almost exactly ninety minutes long, which is economic by the measure of big budget blockbusters. Despite that, the C’thulhu headed horror doesn’t truly start to slither on-screen until about fifty minutes in. Those horseshoe crabs from hell almost play a bigger role than the marquee distraction. Still, Pål Øie and his team deserve some points. They took a project with a Syfy Channel Original set-up and turned it into something that, if dubbed into English, could play in American multiplexes without raising any eyebrows. Supposedly, the film’s primary financiers have invested big in A.I., causing some to wonder if such technology was used while making “Kraken.” I can certainly see that in the posters, at least. That shows that the money people making this movie did not learn from its moral. May their data centers melt glacial ice, unleashing a beast that crushes their offices. As for the movie, it’s pretty forgettable but I didn’t hate it. [6/10]

Pure Blood (1982)
Pura sangre

The first victim was discovered in November of 1963. Over the next six months, an additional thirteen bodies were uncovered. Most of them were boys. The majority had been assaulted, tortured, and had their hearts pierced with needles. All of them were discovered in unfinished lots and alley ways, referred to by locals as mangones. (Which literally translates to "pastures" but colloquially refers to an open, empty area.) Ultimately, over thirty deaths would be linked to the figure nicknamed the Monster of the Mangones. A perpetrator was never captured, with some speculating that these were unrelated homicides. Either way, it's the kind of macabre and disturbing case that can't help but fascinate. Documentary filmmaker Luis Ospina would be inspired by the case, combining it with the true story of Colombian businessman and coffee magnate Adolfo Aristizabal, to create the 1982 film "Pura sangre." While still fairly obscure on the international scene, subtitled copies do circulate online, giving me a chance to check out more of Columbia's often neglected contributions to the horror genre. 

Roberto Hurtado, an aging leader in the medical and sugar cane industries, has been diagnosed with a rare blood disease. The only thing that will keep him alive are daily, massive transfusions of blood. Specifically blood from young men or boys of a matching types. His son, Adolfo, runs the daily practices of the business while monitoring his father. By chance, he discovers that three of his employees – nurse Florencia, ambulance driver Perfecto, and morgue attendant Ever – have recently committed a grisly murder and assault, strictly for the thrill of it. Adolfo blackmails the trio into continuing this killing spree. As long as they target boys, drain the blood afterwards, and make sure it's transfused to his father. The trio go about their nightly activities, targeting social undesirables like gay men and the impoverished. Soon, reports of a serial killer known as the Monster of the Mangones begin to circulate among the grieving parents and press.

The observation that rich people are like vampires, draining the life blood from the lower class to prolong their unnatural existence, is not exactly novel. The correlation is right there in "Dracula." At times, that seems to be the only point "Pure Blood" has. The film is largely devoted to watching this trio of remorseless serial killers callously targeting their victims, intercut with scenes of the frail old man in his hospital bed and the daily routines of the family business. (Which includes haggling with, and intimidating, sugar cane labor unions.) However, an even darker point does eventually emerge. Roberto is a cadaverous old man. His daily treatments will not save his life, merely make it last a little longer. How does this supposed titan of industry spend the final days of his existence? He pervs on his nurse, watching her undress from secret monitors and telling her what to wear. He makes people read the newspaper to him. He dismisses actual news, caring only about the rise and fall of stocks and fortunes, which often seem to be meaningless metrics. He watches movies on VHS. He likes "Johnny Guitar" but hates "Citizen Kane," demanding his nurse no longer bring him black-and-white movies. I wonder why the story of a rich man who dies unhappy and unsatisfied might bother this guy?

All the while, Roberto is utterly unaware of the sordid activities being carried out to preserve his existence for a few more days. Of the lives lost and destroyed to make sure this sick old man doesn't die for another week. Yes, the rich are like vampires, figuratively and sometimes literally sucking the life force out of the poor to keep themselves alive. They are also entirely protected from the consequences of their actions, unaware of the suffering their trivial existence is responsible for. Roberto Hurtado probably wouldn't care about the kids who die to keep him going but he also doesn't even know, making this condition equally horrific and pathetic. 

The complete unawareness of the old man goes hand-in-hand with the utter callousness of the murderers. When cruising the street for victims, Perfecto points at one kid, who Ever dismisses for being black in as racist a fashion as possible. They hang out in a gay bar, luring in young guys with drugs, because they know that the deaths of gay men are less likely to be taken seriously by the police. After realizing that one of the children they've murdered is the wrong blood type, the trio simply dump the body out of their car and continue on. In addition to being a cold-hearted killer, Ever is also a necrophile, often assaulting the bodies of the victims after they are dead. As he leaves the evidence of such a vile crime behind him, Perfecto merely shrugs it off. That is a consistent quality about "Pure Blood." These killers tell jokes in-between homicides. A late scene depicts them going on a trip to the beach with their families. The only time they come close to being found, they defuse the situation by acting callously and whistling to themselves. That's shit out of a cartoon but why wouldn't it work, in fiction or real life? The way "Pure Blood" captures the disaffected, ruthless fashion of its serial killers is the most chilling thing about it. 

The millionaire motivating the crimes is ignorant. The killers doing the dirty work are heartless. The man in the middle, played by a perfectly deadpan Luis Alberto Garcia, treats it all as a mere business operation. Sugar cane futures, bargaining with union leaders, paying off ice cold psychopaths, it's all the same to this man. That angle informs all of "Pura sangre." Ospina's background in documentaries is apparent in the scenes devoting to showing life in the downtrodden parts of Cali. We see kids in thrown-together Halloween costumes partying and playing as the Advent holiday arrives. Moments like these are captured with the same matter-of-fact quality as watching people snort some cocaine or hang out in their apartment. This is backed by a droning electronic score that further surrounds us with a chilly, isolated atmosphere. Business, whether it be in blood or money, is equally detached from the human element. "Pura sangre" observes the lives of the lost innocents with an intimate, lived-in reality and the actions of the killers like a dispassionate god. 

The result is an unsettling film that is tricky to shake. I went into "Pure Blood" being told it was a dark comedy. I guess this is still true but any chuckles to be found here are more of the rueful, grim type than bemused. Most chilling of all is a final scene that implies all of this is set to begin again, the responsible party unlikely to face any consequences for their actions. There's little information on the English-speaking web about the film, the murders that inspired it, and any other links between these events and real people. What I have been able to find is contradictory and confused. To any Colombian readers better versed in the facts, I apologize for getting any details wrong. What I'm sure of is that "Pure Blood" lays it's thesis out, the social frame work that makes crimes such as these possible, with distressing preciseness. [8/10]

Amazing Stories: Welcome to My Nightmare

Having watched all of the “Psycho” movies earlier this month, now seemed like a good time to watch “Welcome to My Nightmare.” That’s the season two episode of “Amazing Stories” that is an extended homage to Hitchcock’s classic. Harry is a horror obsessed teenage boy and “Psycho” is his favorite. He sets his VHS player up so that the shrieking strings of the shower scene act as his alarm clock every morning. His fixation is such that it’s annoying his family. It’s also annoying Kate, the cute girl next door who inexplicably has a crush on Harry. She asks him to the dance and he fumbles it. Instead, he has a fight with his family and leaves for the movie theater. On his way there, he wishes that his life was more like a movie. This wish comes true but he doesn’t specify which movie. Harry is transported into “Psycho” in the role of Marion Crane, right before the shower scene.

“Welcome to My Nightmare” is the work of Todd Holland, who would go on to direct “The Wizard,” “Krippendorf’s Tribe,” and a bunch of television. He has no relation to Tom Holland, director of “Fright Night” and “Child’s Play,” who probably would’ve been a smarter choice to direct a horror centric episode like this. While it heavily references a terror classic, the tone here is of heavy-handed comedy and mawkish sentimentality. Harry’s family flatly lays out the themes of the episode, explaining that life isn’t a movie. That he needs to focus more on reality than what’s on the screen. His rejection of their suburban lifestyle is similarly broadly explained through dialogue. The episode’s plot literally depends on a shooting star, the kind of waxy whimsy that too often characterized this show. “Amazing Stories” really did feel like a bad imitation of Spielberg and not an actual Spielberg production a lot of the time, didn’t it?

The episode stars David Hollander as Harry, presenting the frightening possibility that someone with the last name of Hollandest is also involved in this production. His performance is broad and exaggerated. He makes stretched, mugging faces. His reaction to ending up inside “Psycho” is one of aghast shock, a note the actor and episode never stops hitting. He is also placed inside a dress, since he’s inhabiting the Janet Leigh role. You would think that a homage to “Psycho” that puts a man in drag would be commenting on the queerness of this source material in some way. No, it’s just a lame sight gag here. There’s no Hitchcockian subtly here, as the episode climaxes with a buffoonish ride down a carnival slide and an equally obvious homage to “It’s a Wonderful Life.” When you consider that the story involves a cute girl having a pre-established attraction to the awkward movie nerd, the whole half-hour feels like bad wish fulfillment. The zombies in one of the fantasy sequences are kind of cool but this one is pretty lame otherwise. [5/10] 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Brain Drain

If nothing else, the “Friday the 13th: The Series” writing team gets points for creativity with this one. The eighteenth episode’s Artifact of Doom is a trepanier. As in a device used for trepanning, the antiquated practice of punching holes in the skull to relieve internal pressure or let out evil spirits. The tool is in the possession of Dr. Pangborn, a scientist working to increase intelligence. His test subject is a simpleton named Harry. The trepanier allows Harry to absorb Pangborn’s smarts into his brain, at the result of leaving the doctor a drooling idiot. Now assuming the doctor’s identity, the villain uses the device to drain his colleague’s intelligence and download them into a gorilla’s brain. Working on the same project is Dr. Viola Rhodes, who happens to be Jack’s old flame. They nearly got married but it didn’t work out. With this mission bringing Jack into her presence, the two resume their relationship. Unfortunately, the brain sucking gizmo and the mad scientist using it endangers their renewed love affair. 

While “Friday the 13th: The Series” has hinted at Jack’s storied past many times, this is the first time it’s become a truly relevant plot point. Reliable character actress Carrie Snodgrass plays Vi and she has strong chemistry with Chris Wiggins. Sometimes simply getting two older performers together is enough to imbue a fictional interaction with some gravitas. Everyone has made mistakes, left somebody behind that they miss, wonder what their life might have been if things had worked out. Playing on that gives this episode way more pathos than your usual “Friday the 13th” episode. Naturally, this love affair is destined to end in tragedy. Seeing Jack get seriously pissed off at the villain of the week, violently seeking vengeance, provides some true novelty to this one. The note this one ends on is of resigned sadness, of regrets with no solution and once cherished memories that now only sting. As it too often goes in life.

Such a poignant subplot contrasts sharply against an otherwise typical episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” Denis Forest, who previously appeared in “Cupid’s Quiver,” inexplicably adopts a German accent upon becoming smarter. His invention features a brain floating in a tank of fluid, a microphone picking up its grumbling thoughts somehow. The climax of this episode is extremely silly, with a slow-motion scream and a close-up on a goofy facial expression. I admittedly don’t know much about trepanning but I don’t think it involved such an elaborate machine, with a swinging blade and tubes transporting spinal fluid. There is a decent suspense scene, in which Ryan and Micki are stalked through a storage room. Otherwise, the A-plot is typical ridiculous shenanigans, while Jack’s arc is much more moving. Makes for an odd back-and-forth but I'll still give this one an above-average grade. [7/10]