Halloween 2026: October 5th

 

The Housemaid (2016)
Cô Hầu Gái

Vietnam doesn't really have the tradition of horror movies that many of its neighboring nations do. The Wikipedia article on Vietnamese cinema references a short from 1937 entitled "Toét's Scared of Ghosts," supposedly one of the first fictional films made in the country and a "comedy with a slight romantic horror theme." There's also a Vietnamese-made Hong Kong production from '37 called "The Ghost Field" but I'm betting any ghosts in that one are probably of the metaphorical variety. Because most early Vietnamese films are documentaries or propaganda efforts. After the war and the unification, it seems social-realism was the primary genre favored by studios and audiences for several decades. There's a 1999 movie called "The Building" (Chung cư), that most sources describe as a straight-ahead social drama but IMDb's plot synopsis pitches like a haunted house movie, so I'm not sure what to think about that. Generally speaking though, Vietnamese cinema didn't try to catch up with the J-horror fad until the 2000s. A 2004 drama called "Spirits" seems to incorporate some supernatural activity. A 2007 Korean co-production, "Muoi: Legend of a Portrait," sounds like a proper local variation on the ever popular "stringy-haired ghost girl" premise and is frequently listed as the country's first true horror movie. Since then, there's been an ongoing attempt to establish Vietnamese horror for real. Probably the most acclaimed example is "The Housemaid," a 2016 film from Derek Nguyen, which actually got some decent distribution over here. 

Our story takes place in 1953, in the midst of the First Indochina War. A young woman named Linh mysteriously appears at a rubber plantation deep in the woods, seeking work. Stern headmistress Mrs. Han reluctantly takes her in, advising her to know her place and never make eye contact with her French masters. Linh soon learns that the home is said to be haunted. That owner Captain Sebastian had a wife and daughter but, after being left alone for so long, the madame murdered the child and drowned herself. And her spirit is said to still wander the grounds. After Sebastian returns home suddenly with a war wound, Linh is tasked with nursing him back to health. They get to know each other and soon a passionate love affair ensues. All the while, threatening visions of Madame Christine pursue Linh. Soon enough, people begin to wind up dead around the mansion. 

If "The Housemaid" was a deliberate attempt by Nguyen and his team to establish Vietnam genre filmmaking on the international scene, it's easy to see the path they took. The film belongs to the classy tradition of gothic ghost stories and haunted period pieces, drawing some clear inspiration from "The Innocents" and "Jane Eyre." The mansion setting is handsome, filled with many shadowy corners and brooding windows. Fog seems to perpetually float over the forest floor. A gloomy atmosphere of repressed passion and barely concealed secrets prevails. The film does indulge in some noisier scares. The ghost of Madame Christine, a rotting corpse in a tattered gown, has a habit of leaping out and screeching at people. There's an attempted axe murder and a fairly well done sequence involving some zombies rising from the forest floor. The editing and sound design is a bit overdone at times. However, "The Housemaid" mostly does a serviceable job invoking some misty, ghost story ambiance without spoiling it too much with obnoxious loud shrieks and sudden intrusions. 

Aside from belonging to a classier type of horror, “The Housemaid” is also all too aware of the class and social boundaries facing its protagonist. Linh faces the challenges of being both a woman and a servant. One of Captain Sebastian's military pals attempts to insult her, while Mrs. Han repeatedly reminds her that she is not of the same strata as her employers. Even after beginning the affair with the man of the house, Linh receives scornful glances from his (white) fiancee, who declares her not pretty enough to be cheated on with. While these kinds of divisions and pressures are universal, “The Housemaid” is also distinctly Vietnamese though. Among the plantation staff is a cruel overseer, who nostalgically recalls the days of being able to torture deserters and others he deems “ungrateful.” These speak to specific abuses and injustices the Vietnamese faced under French imperialism. The film attempts to tie both its haunting story and its social minded, historical elements together into a twist ending that I don't think I entirely understood. Nevertheless, this is clearly a film where the boundaries of class and racism keep the heroine imprisoned as much as the haunting does. 

While I think there's some good skill on display here, and the film is sound in much of its writing and construction, “The Housemaid” ultimately left me a little unsatisfied. The pace is slow, almost dirge-like at times, as we watch Linh's daily misery. Meanwhile, her romance with her employer seems almost inevitable, the two destined to end up together as much as any other male and female lead in a romance story would. The film attempts to make the romance feel less mechanical. There's some passionate love scenes and a moment where Sebastian tearfully begs for Linh's forgiveness. However, it all comes across as more melodramatic than anything else. That emphasis of oversized emotions are present in other elements of the film, in the way it tries a little too hard with some of its ghost sequence or in the broader actions of some of the supporting cast. 

“The Housemaid” is not one of those tedious dramas, concerned only with making its social statements, that includes a handful of ghosts or nightmares to qualify for the much more commercially popular genre of horror. I do think the film is genuinely invested in the ghost story and handles it, from time to time, quite well. The appreciation of misty gothic atmosphere is very real. However, I do feel like the script is never quite able to bring its romance story, ghostly haunting, and class-drama threads together into a satisfying whole. Maybe a stronger lead performance would have helped, as Nhung Kate as Linh is a bit stiff at times. Either way, it's merely an okay, not great, attempt at a Vietnamese ghost story. [6/10]

 

Crypt of the Vampire (1964)
La cripta e l’incubo

If Sheridan Le Fanu's “Carmilla” must hold the title of Second Most Influential Vampire Novel in Literary History, I would say that's still a rather honorable position to be in. Obviously, “Dracula” would essentially invent the pop culture vampire. However, that krazy Karnstein was there first. The novel has gotten its own share of adaptations too, if not nearly as many to rival the Count. In fact, for the second time this season, I've found myself going into a seemingly unrelated vampire movie only to realize it's another adaptation of Le Fanu's book. While “Alucarda” was clearly a case of being merely inspired by the text, 1964's “Crypt of the Vampire” – alternatively known as “Terror in the Crypt” and probably a dozen other titles – is actually one of the more faithful adaptations I've seen. It's another film from Christopher Lee's Italian period, made when he had a week off from filming “The Whip and the Body.” 

Years ago, Sheena Karnstein was persecuted for the crime of witchcraft. Before being executed, she put a curse on the family, promising to return and haunt them again some day. Centuries later, Count Ludwig lives in the same castle with his daughter, Laura. Laura is haunted by reoccurring nightmares. Ludwig is afraid that she is possessed by the spirit of Sheena. Laura holds this concern too and has made her handmaid promise to kill her, should she ever be taken over by an evil ancestor. The castle sees two guests arrive. The first is Klauss, a scholar recruited to uncover the portrait of Sheena, revealing if Laura resembles her or not. Secondly, a carriage wreck leaves a young woman named Ljuba at the home. Her and Laura become fast friends but her nightmares persists. Strange murders begin to happen around the castle too, making Ludwig increasingly concerned that his daughter is now a vampire.

I've brought this up surely a dozen times before but it bares repeating. If an old horror movie has really pretty, black-and-white photography, I'm willing to give it a pass on so many other things. Well, let me tell you: “Crypt of the Vampire” is not a classic, by any means. Its story is somehow both a bit repetitive and somewhat confusing. It seems a large portion of the script is devoted to re-emphasizing that Ludwig is worried about his daughter, without really specifying how the curse is supposed to work. Her maid is also a witch, which is separately referred to as both a good thing and a bad thing at different times. None of the characters are that distinct and it's easy to confuse them. The pacing is rather slow, the audience often left wondering when the point will arrive. 

All of this is true and yet... “Crypt of the Vampire” is so pretty. Filmed at the Castello Piccolomini, the genuine ancient ambiance goes a long way. A shot of Laura running through the castle halls, coming to a large locked door right before the lights go out, is a great example of how far the location goes. Julio Orlas and Giuseppe Aquari's cinematography is rich with shadows. An especially stunning sequence involves an ascent up the staircase, carrying a rather unique candelabra, throwing brilliant shadows on the walls around. In general, the film builds some impressively creepy sequences. The discovery of why a bell is ringing or Laura's reoccurring nightmares prove to hit the exact sweet spot for rich, monochromatic shivers that I long for. 

“Dracula” and “Carmilla” are linked by the role dreams play in both stories. The vampire in each is an incubus-like figure, arriving to take something from the sleeping maiden while she is unawares. By devoting significant screen time to Laura's dreams, “Crypt” brings the idea that the vampire arises from the subconscious to mind much more clearly. This is further emphasized by the film barely disguising the queer subtext of the source material. Laura and Ljuba grow very close, very fast. They are often giving each other long, meaningful looks or little touches on the shoulders. They do seem to spend a lot of time together in their nightgowns. When Klauss makes his romantic interest in Laura known, she outright says she prefers Ljuba's company to his. Having the bite of a vampire seemingly bring sexual bliss is nothing new. It plays in slightly different context when it's two young women, their passions for each other unspoken, the sexual taste and the undead nature going hand-in-hand. If the vampire lurks in the subconscious, it lives in the same shadowy realm as the desires we oppress and try to ignore but that inevitably bubble up as we dream. 

Repressed sexuality is not the only thing lurking down there in the shade-blanketed neither land of our subconscious. Throughout the film, Count Ludwig is overcome with shame that his bloodline has doomed his daughter. He's such a devoted father, that he fears making his relationship with another woman in the castle obvious to Laura. He wants to protect her from the outside world, unaware that corruption is already working its fangs into her, in an innocent seeming form. Moreover, his own fear has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. By talking about the family curse, putting the idea in his daughter's head, he's insured that she's interested and fearful of this too. Thus, the parent has made sure that what he's most worried will certainly come to pass. It's another manifestation of our secret fears, shame, guilt, and worries arising out of the abyss of the mind and becoming reality.

The films he shot aboard in Italy, Spain, or Germany did not always ask Christopher Lee to do much more than glower or stand around menacingly. He does plenty of that here too. However, “Crypt of the Vampire” actually gave Lee some material to chew on. A moment where, all but tears in his eyes, he asks why his daughter must suffer actually had me feeling some things. None of the other performances are that notable, though Adriana Ambesi and Ursula Davis both have some soulful eyes. The inevitable Bava comparisons arises in the torture sequence flashback, showing the witch being strung up and punished, in a way awfully similar to “Black Sunday.” The film also includes the somewhat underwhelming climax from Le Fanu's novel, which probably wasn't its best idea. Nevertheless, despite some obvious and apparent flaws, “Crypt of the Vampire” is still ridiculously in my wheelhouse. [8/10]

Ghosts: Three Miles Up

There's been so much self-mythologizing about the BBC's lengthy history of ghost stories that even I, an admitted convert to loving this shit, am a little tired of hearing about it. Clearly, however, the British Broadcasting Corporation has been aware of its own legacy of hushed, spooky horror for quite a while. In 1995, the network would debut an anthology that was simply called “Ghosts.” The brief, five episode series has never been released on disc but remains well-regarded by fans of this sort of thing. “Three Miles Up” was the penultimate episode, based on a short story by Elizabeth Jane Howard, and was directed by Lesley Manning. As in, the filmmaker behind “Ghostwatch,” my favorite low-key but creepy ghost story to emerge from British television. Meaning I had to check it out.

John decides to reconnect with Billy, his troubled younger brother. They rent a boat and go for a long excursion through the Fenlands, ostensibly as a bonding exercise. This is fitting, as both brothers carry around a boatload of trauma from their childhood with an abusive, withholding mother. That includes John essentially raising his brother himself and their mother dying under mysterious circumstances. Among the possessions of dear ol' mum they find is a whistle, which Billy thoughtlessly blows. Shortly after setting up the river, they discover a young lady on the shore. Both men feel attracted to her, the rivalry between the brothers heating up. At the same time, their journey up the river seems to keep going, the duo's destination always “three miles up” from their current location.

All ghost stories are about the dead refusing to stay underground, a fitting metaphor for unresolved childhood hang-ups and sibling rivalry. John and Billy often bicker, their familiarity with one another colored by years of resentment and pain. Billy insists he was always mom's favorite, John shooting back that he was the one always watching after his brother. That makes the soggy, overgrown fens a very fitting setting for such a story. Throughout “Three Miles Up,” faces and objects either emerge from the dark waters or sink into it. Much like bad memories or deeply buried memories floating up out of the subconscious. The deeper down the river they go, the comparisons to the mythological Styx all too obvious, the more the past comes to life around them. The final image of the episode is nicely chilling, an appropriate visualization of the idea of both men being swallowed up from that which they attempt to forget. 

“Three Miles Up” is also really slow. Once again, this is a prickly story devoted to two characters who don't like each other, arguing about their past. The appearance of the woman is an especially Freudian intrusion into this uneasy balance. She's both a romantic object for the men as well as a stand-in for their bitter mother. That's a reveal easily foreseen. While slowly entombing dread is the obvious goal here, the episode moving at the same pace as the sleepy boat ride makes it a little harder to be sucked in. Still, there is a dreary ambiance to this one, supported by the perpetually overcast British weather. It's more sad than scary, more tragic than chilling, but still quite well done. [7/10]

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Bottle of Dreams

After spending a whole season hunting down the devil's playthings, Jack decides to throw a little party for Ryan and Micki. They get dressed up and pop a bottle of wine. That's when a weird guy in a turban delivers an ancient Egyptian canoptic jar. As they attempt to place the jar in the vault, Ryan and Micki are envelope in fumes from inside it. They begin to experience nightmares of their most frightening encounters, a personal hell that will ultimately end in their deaths. Jack stands up up stairs, inviting a friend named Rashid to help him undo this curse. This will mean confronting the spirit of Lewis Vendredi once again, as well as his own fears and regrets. 

Another episode set largely within the antiques shop, about the trio trying to unwind after capturing so many cursed items, is a fun idea for a season finale. Unfortunately, that set-up is soon passed over in favor of that most despised of cost-saving measures for old TV shows: The clip show. Bringing back some of the evil doodads for cameos is a great idea, as it deepens the sense of history and continuity the show has. Unfortunately, the minute the camera zoomed in on the demon doll from episode one and started replaying footage, I could tell what we were getting here. Yes, about half of the run time here is made up of recycled scenes from past installments. I hope I don't disappoint anybody by admitting that I fast-forwarded through the reused clips. Some of the clips chosen are also a bit questionable. I still think the doll episode was pretty cheesy, while agreeing that “Scarecrow” and the Dracula one were highlights. 

Clip shows are usually totally disposable episode that can be easily skipped. Maybe all too aware of that stigma, the “Friday the 13th” crew decided to also drop some essential lore in this episode. Here, we learn that Jack used to have a son, with psychic powers of his own, who died while trying to help someone. This episode also has Uncle Lewis reappearing. It's funny that the first episode established Lewis as ultimately remorseful about his mission to spread evil in the world, while every subsequent appearance has him being a willing minion of the devil. I don't mind too much, as watching R.G. Armstrong be evil is consistently amusing. I also like the minimalist but well done otherworldly sets used in the back half. It's nothing but a black backdrop with some dramatic lighting but it works. Certainly works better than the cheesy, stereotypical “laser” effects used a little later on. 

That puts “Bottle of Dreams” in an interesting place, half-way between the laziest way to pad out a season order and feeling like a proper finale to the last twenty-five episodes. I don't know if the episode can entirely overcome the inherent weaknesses of the clip-heavy format but I still think this one is okay. In fact, while the quality of “Friday the 13th: The Series” can vary wildly from episode to episode, I mostly found myself enjoying this first season. Like many shows of this nature, the chemistry between the central players has caused me to slowly become invested in them. While the gimmick of the week may or may not be lame, I simply enjoy hanging out with Jack, Ryan, and Micki. Yeah, I do think I'm going to check out the rest of this series. It's sometimes silly or limp but it's also the kind of old show I would've gotten really into as a kid. Ideal nostalgic October viewing, in other words. [Bottle of Dreams: 6/10] [Friday the 13th: The Series: Season One: 7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 25th

Insidious: Out of the Further (2026)

Maybe it’s simply the long Covid talking but “Insidious” feels like a horror series from another time. It has been about fifteen years since the original one came out and the world has changed so much since then. Horror films about ghosts or demons with vague, one-word, descriptive titles feel like a relic of The Before Times. In spite of that, the series remains a very serious on-going concern for Blumhouse Productions. The fifth installment made enough money that a spin-off film and a live theatrical experience were both announced. Well, that spin-off movie still hasn’t materialized and the live show was canceled after a few performances. However, this summer still saw the release of a new main entry in the “Insidious” series. Subtitled “Out of the Further,” it was written and directed by Jacob Chase, director of the second or third saddest thing Gillian Jacobs has been in since “Community” got canceled. 

As a child, Gemma Hall lived with her mother as she slowly went insane before witnessing her commit suicide via repeated facial trauma to a wall. As an adult, she has tried to put this behind her. She’s a successful dental hygienist, has a steady boyfriend, and is very close to her daughter, Maya. The two currently live in the same home Gemma grew up in. Three strange residents move into the house across the street, after which Gemma begins to have strange visions. She is attacked by ghostly spectres in a misty netherworld. Yes, Gemma is actually astral projecting into the Further, a fact confirmed by the spirit of medium Elise Rainer. Elise informs Gemma that she has the ability to transport objects and souls from the Further into the physical world. That this skill has made her the target of a cult based in the Further, whose leader promises to resurrect the undead spirits and who are supported by living acolytes in the waking world.

When I watched all the “Insidious” movies as part of my James Wan retrospective a while back, I repeatedly called the franchise’s mythos silly and/or stupid. Save for a supporting role for Lin Shaye’s dead-but-still-kickin’ character, “Out of the Further” is a stand-alone story built entirely upon the series’ established lore. Which is to say it is extremely silly and stupid. There's one or two interesting ideas here. The concept of living people accessing the Further via sedatives had potential. Elise communicating with the living world through a medium, a punky tattoo artist played by Maisie Richardson-Sellers, isn't the worst way to keep that character in the story. However, the more "Out of the Further" reveals about its story, the more convoluted it starts to feel. The idea of a cult made up of ghosts, residing on this astral plain, or being able to manifest things from the spiritual to physical realms strike me as desperate and somewhat confusing attempts to add more novelty to this universe. "Insidious" has always been somewhat vague concerning the rules governing its ghostly realm and these new additions only muddy the waters further. Of course, the last act focuses largely on these narrative devices, dispelling any spiritual connotations in favor entirely of brute force, comic book-style plotting. 

While I've always found "Insidious'" New Age spiritualism influenced backstory to be incredibly doofy, that's not the main reason "Out of the Further" is a tedious viewing experience. Past entries mixed in a little body horror with lots of jump scares and more atmospheric elements. The sixth installment focuses almost entirely on gross-out tactics. In particular, the film seems especially appalled by the bodies of the aging. The half-living Acolytes have deep eye sockets, patchy hair, yellowish skin, and hollow, soulless stares. If the viewer didn't get that we are meant to find the mere sight of old people gross, the sequel includes a mouthful of slimy, rotten teeth and a pile of used diapers. Desperate attempts at gross-out are all throughout the film. One of the reoccurring ghouls wears a permanent mouth depresser and is always leaking green slime. Another, laughably silly sequence features a whole horde of sickly, twitchy spirits. Including guys whose sole purpose is to lick dirty dishes or eat rats. "Out of the Further" has plenty of the series' trademark loud shrieks. They are usually paired with this juvenile ickiness or goofy touches. Such as a second pair of teeth exploding through an old man's rotten maulers or a chase scene through a tunnel of couch cushions. 

It all suggests that the creative forces behind the "Insidious" series have exhausted all other avenues of getting squeals out of audiences. The film sticks most of the franchise's star ghouls into brief cameos and instead brings back minor spookies for larger roles. I suppose giving the Doll Girl and other returning ghosts expanded presences was an attempt to get hoots out of hardcore "Insidious" fans. Assuming such a thing exists. Speaking for myself, I had forgotten about most of these guys. The new additions to the franchise's litany of horrors are deeply uninspired. The sequel bets big on "Carnival of Souls" style pasty faced ghouls, who sometimes burst through walls like zombies in a Romero film. Ghost Dentist or Little Girl with a Box Full of Teeth seem unlikely to become Halloween costumes or action figures to me. The main villain here is that ghostly cult leader. He is played by Sam Spruell in a bathrobe, face bandages, and a pointy finger accessory presumably purchased from Hot Topic. The greasy long hair and Mall Goth aesthetic once again strike me as lame holdovers from the era when people thought Marilyn Manson was actually scary. While Spruell has occasionally been compelling in his various bad guy roles, his work here is forgettable. 

Aside from miscalculated spectral villains and an insistence that the Further is a cool name for a ghostly realm, the main thing uniting the "Insidious" films has been a focus on generational trauma and parental anxieties. "Out of the Further" does carry on this thematic thread. Gemma was thoroughly traumatized by her mother's lunacy and suicide. As her own haunting grows more severe, she finds herself repeating a lot of the same mistakes with her own daughter, like sleeping in too late or lashing out at the kid. The threat of turning into our abusive or neglectful parents, no matter how hard we try to do better, is a potent one. However, "Out of the Further" mostly sidelines it for the goofier ghost shenanigans. The idea that some curses are hereditary crops up again before the end but solely as a plot device, not as a meaningful statement. Amelia Eve isn't a bad lead. She has a certain wide-eyed vulnerability and a can-do spunkiness. I like the rapport she has with Island Austin as the daughter. The script simply doesn't give her much else to dig into. 

As someone always more tolerant than appreciative of the "Insidious" series, I suppose it's unsurprising that "Out of the Further" left me feeling bored and slightly irritated. I don't know if fans of these movies liked this one or not but the impression I got is that this shit is seriously played out. "Out of the Further" is too enamored with the superpowers and mystical layers of its universe and too devoid of effective or interesting scares. I feel like the sequel came and went from theaters without making any impact but has still grossed 169 million dollars so far, against a 18 million dollar budget. Which presumably means Blumhouse will go further into the Further in the near future. Part six is lame enough that I'm probably done with these movies, unless Jason Blum finally gets off his ass and makes that promised crossover with "Sinister." Those movies suck too but the pulpy allure of mashing two unrelated fright flicks together is sadly irresistible to me. [3/10]

The Island (1980)

Before “Jaws” redefined what a cinematic blockbuster was, it was a best-selling book. This must have been tricky for its author, former journalist and Johnson administration speech writer Peter Benchley. He spent the rest of his career in the shadow of “Jaws.” He felt so much guilt over contributing to the perception of sharks as ultra-dangerous killing machines that he became an active conservationist for the animal. Also, he wrote several other maritime themed thrillers, with simple titles that would look good embossed on a hardback cover. None of which proved as successful as his debut novel. Hollywood still tried to turn Benchley into a successful brand name. “The Deep,” mostly based on the strengths of Jacqueline Bisset in a wet t-shirt, was also a hit. This convinced the “Jaws” producers to buy the movie rights to Benchley’s third novel, “The Island,” before it was published. The movie made from that book was such a box office flop, that all future Benchley adaptations went straight-to-TV. Michael Caine, who was happy to joke about his other Benchley-adjacent oceanic floater, was so ashamed of the movie that he refused to discuss it. Despite that reputation, the film has a small cult following. “The Island” was also largely shot on the island of Antigua. Considering the Caribbean nation it forms with neighboring Barbuda has few cinematic offerings of its own, that’s close enough for me to count it for 2026’s Horror Around the World journey.

Journalist Blair Maynard wants to investigate the disappearances in the Bermuda Triangle. He convinces his editor to pay for a trip to Florida. His gun-obsessed pre-teen son tags along out of necessity. After their plane into the Caribbean crashes, father and son are stranded on an obscure island. They go for a fishing trip to pass the time, during which the two are abducted by pirates. These buccaneers are descendants of 17th century privateers. They’ve lived in their own bizarre island society for three hundred years, being responsible for a number of the disappearances in the area. Recently, they’ve begun stealing the children off the boats they pillage, to grow their culture. Justin is their next adoptee into the pirate lifestyle. Blair is kept alive because the sole woman on the island chooses him as her mate. Now, he must escape the plunderers and stop his son from being indoctrinated into their violent ways.

Probably owning to their status as a common Halloween costume, my brain has always sorted pirates alongside other classic horror tropes. I don’t know if anyone else does that but nomadic sea bandits were a common feature in classic gothic literature. Either way, “The Island” does make a decent case for the corsair as a movie monster. The film introduces its villains by having them gorily killing a tourist with an axe. Their next appearance features a flaming head-dress, the sort of thing Blackbeard supposedly did. Certainly a striking and shocking thing to see at any place besides an Arthur Brown concert or Burning Man. All of the following raids are equally violent, with lots of slashed throats. Most pirate movies focus more on high adventure on the high seas. This is weirdly the tone taken by Ennio Morricone’s nostalgic score. However, being attacked while at sea by blood-thirsty bandits would be pretty scary, which is what “The Island” emphasizes to decent effect. 

Unlike vampires and Frankensteins, pirates were and are real things. You probably aren’t going to see too many Captain Hooks or Long John Silvers in international waters, today or circa 1980. To get around that, Benchley’s novel and screenplay introduces the improbable plot device of an isolated colony of Napoleonic freebooters hiding in the Bermuda Triangle in the late 20th century. The story only passingly acknowledges that inbreeding would become a major problem for such a small, concentrated population. The pirates also still mostly use swords, cannon balls, and blunderbuss, despite the film making it clear that they would encounter modern technology on their raids. Despite the silliness of all this, there is a fun idea here. The pirates speak in their own pidgin English, with clipped sentences and weird slang of their own invention. Their culture is replete with strange customs, ruled by obscure and insular rules. If you kill a man, you must take care of his wife. For an abducted child to fully become part of the tribe, he must kill his own dad. There are fleeting references to sea-faring lore, which adds a neat depth to the whole thing. When combined with some above-average costume design, it convincingly creates its own reality. Being an outsider in this world is interesting and some of its features – such as a punishment in which a jellyfish’s tendrils are dragged along an exposed body – are quite memorable.  

This means “The Island” has some cool ideas and decently assembled sequences, despite the obvious gaps in logic. Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t entirely work. The pacing is sluggish, especially during the long middle section once the characters arrive at the titular location. The film also takes far too many additional paths on its way to its central point. Did we need that stop-over on another isolated island before the pirates grab Blair and his kid? In general, “The Island” does not have the most likable main character. Michael Caine plays Blair as a prickly and stand-off-ish guy that isn’t easily liked. The focus on his relationship with the woman that adopts him and his repeated escape attempts never quite take off. Caine is an appealing performer, his established screen persona already straddling the line between egg-headed intellectual and British gangster. He can’t make the former likable with such a thin script. 

This is part of an intended theme about masculinity. Justin clearly does not respect his dad, constantly belittling him with smart-ass comments. When the two visit a gun shop, the kid is very excited and knowledgeable about the fire arms. His father, despite being a Korean War vet, does not seem to be a fan. Obviously, the idea is that Blair is a stuffy intellectual, disconnected from real manhood. This is ostensibly why the boy ends up seemingly embracing the pirate life style, as the bloody bandits are more traditionally masculine. David Warner plays the leader of the buccaneers, his presence recalling “Straw Dogs.” “The Island” has a similarly regressive message about masculinity, the boy accepting his actual father figure only after he embraces violence. Ostensibly, I guess the message is that Blair proves his bravery and that is what impresses the boy. In effect, it looks like Michael Caine gets behind a machine gun like Stallone in the climax of “Rambo IV,” and the kid’s feeling about his dad immediately changes. Now, I’m a fan of a hyper-violent, shoot-em-up ending and eighties movies with questionable stances on what constitutes a “real man.” The film still does not earn the sentimentality of that ending.

If “The Island” had focused solely on the weirdo pirate culture and those bloody scenes of stalking and murder, I would be able to get behind it as an overlooked gem of eighties horror. Instead, a shaky screenplay and some sluggish pacing sinks this one. Director Michael Ritchie was mostly known for sports movies, serious and comedic, before this. He would have more success in the eighties with personality-driven action/comedies, further suggesting that this project was an odd fit for him. You do see lots of the beautiful Caribbean islands and seas though. I also don’t know why Michael Caine is so embarrassed by this one, which definitely isn’t worst than “Jaws: The Revenge,” if maybe not as funny. [6/10]

Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1985): The Specialty of the House

Since most of the eighties "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" episodes are remakes, what truly attracts me to an installment is the cast. Oh, John Saxon as a bitchy food critic? I'll roll the dice on that. Garth December is the prestigious restaurant reviewer at a high-profile publication, known for his biting words and brutal critiques. He visits Hart of the South, a fancy dining establishment run by a Southern belle named Betty Jo, where the menu of every evening is chosen by the chef. Garth is served a delicious but mysterious dish named lamb fritters. December is complying a book of trademark recipes from different restaurants and asks for how these lamb fritters are prepared. Betty Jo refuses to reveal the secret family recipes. Offers of cash do not sway her and Garth cannot replicate the meal at home. He then goes into vindictive mode, writing highly negative reviews of the establishment, hiring actors to feign sickness outside of the building, and doing what he can to sink Betty Jo's career. That's until she personally invites him into her kitchen...

Here's another episode of an anthology show where the twist ending is made far more predictable by the expectations of a twist. Any time there's a secret ingredient to a recipe that the cook emphatically refuses to disclose, it's easy to presume the morbid reveal. Having said that, "Specialty of the House" is indeed worth watching for John Saxon at his campiest. Wearing a succession of hideous pinstripe suits, he cuts down every one around him with brutal observations. This adds a light-hearted but critical tone to this one. Clearly, this is a story of a fabulously cunty jerk going about his obnoxious paths, on the way to a suitably ironic punishment. Of course, watching John Saxon being an asshole is highly entertaining and makes this a breezy half-hour.

There's a definite layer of class conflict here. The snooty, upper-crust douchebaggery of Garth December is obviously representative of a snobbish ruling class. Betty Jo's lower class roots are evident from her heavy southern accent. Operating a restaurant is one of the few ways poorer or blue collar folks can make the leap into a higher tax bracket. Betty Jo has successfully reached this level but stuffy gatekeepers like December still refuse to accept her unless she plays by their rules. That makes the gruesome ending, which thoroughly pushes this story into the realm of horror, all more meaningful. In other words: Eat the rich. This one is based on a short story by Stanley Ellin, also adopted as an episode of Vincent Price's radio show. I'll have to listen to that too. [7/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Tattoo

As evident by the specific chiming quality of the background music and the presence of special guest star Keye Luke, "Tattoo" is "Friday the 13th: The Series'" token Mysteries of the Orient episode. Naturally, that means it's set in that corner of every major city in North America known as "Chinatown." Tommy Chen longs to be a hot-shot gambler but his luck is rotten. This means he owes a lot of money to intimidating crime boss-type Frankie Wong. His sordid lifestyle is considered shameful by his grandfather but his cousin, Linda, is a little more sympathetic. Tommy's luck starts to change after he stumbles upon this week's Cursed Artifact: Magical tattoo needles that fatally brings to life the design etched on to someone's skin, bringing the tattooer unbeatable luck. (And also passable tattooing artistry, I guess.) Mr. Chen reaches out to Jack, Micki, and Ryan who quickly set off to grab the needles before Tommy's avarice leads him to kill again. 

Orientalist stereotypes have been especially tricky to dispel in pop culture. "Tattoo" certainly makes no attempt to do so. Grandpa Chen runs an Herbal Medicine shop. He speaks frequently of honor and how Tommy's pursuit of money brings shame on the family. Dragon sculptures appear in passing. One of the random tough guys Ryan encounters knows martial arts. Among Tommy's victims is a nameless woman in a Qipao and smoking an opium pipe. The climatic bet Tommy takes is a game of Russian Roulette, fixated in pop culture as a Vietnamese thing after "The Deer Hunter." While tattoos are now a common sight anywhere, that focus too has a tinge of exoticism to it. Chinatown is depicted as an urban area infested with organized crime, violence, drugs, and back alley businesses. Three of the endangered people in this episode are also women in bondage, a ubiquitous trope that nevertheless takes on a salacious quality in this setting. The show never says the women are sex workers but it kind of feels implied, ya know? 

We have to acknowledge such stereotypes as harmful and regressive. To not do so makes them seem acceptable, when they are not. Much like I did when reviewing "Mask of Fu Manchu" earlier in the season, I must also confess that "Tattoo" is a pretty good episode otherwise. It's tighter paced than most "Friday the 13th: The Series" installments. It feels like Jack, Ryan, and Micki are on the move the entire time in this one. Perhaps it's the inherent tension in any sort of gambling that gives Tommy's killing spree and all related activities a bit more suspense. The climax ramps up nicely as it cuts between that game of Russian Roulette and Jack's attempts to save Linda Chen from a deadly snake. (Or a "deadly" snake, as the zoology nerd in me immediately checked if red-touched-yellow or red-touched-black on the reptile's skin and guess which one it was?) This is not the first time I've seen deadly tattoo art on a show like this but it's a cool gimmick. My favorite example is probably the tat of a monstrous hand that then sprouts from the guy's chest and strangles him to death. 

As questionable as the role's racial connotations are, the guest cast is very good here. Especially after the very unsympathetic portrayal of the previous episode's antagonist, I like how we at least understand where Tommy is coming from. His cousin Linda's drive to try and protect him adds a little more drama to the plot, most notably to the inevitable moment where Tommy tattoos her. That also dovetails with Micki and Ryan's status as family, which is played up over their usual flirtatious dynamic. There's no doubt that Keye Luke was gifted at bringing actual gravitas to parts like this. I like the interaction he has with Jack at the end, the two men treating each other as equal masters of eccentric arts. Once again, I must concede that this is "solid entertainment if you ignore the racism." Also, this is another episode with an annoying-to-Google name. The keywords "friday the 13th tattoo" mostly returns articles about the associated lore between the activity of ink under skin and the day or images of Jason tats. [7/10] 

Halloween 2026: September 18th

Faces of Death (1978)
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Ruthless Father (2019)

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

The Mind Beyond: Stones

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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