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 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 20th

 

Obsession (2026)

If nothing else, 2026 is the year that definitively proved that a successful career on YouTube can be a pathway to Hollywood, especially if you're making a horror movie. Around 2017, Curry Barker and Cooper Tomlinson started posting comedy skits on the Youtube channel "thats_a_bad_idea." Their comical videos regularly get hundreds of thousands of views while occasional horror shorts do even better, attracting millions of eyeballs. Last year, the channel released a pretty good found footage movie called "Milk & Serial." Despite only being an hour long and a budget supposedly smaller than most people's monthly expenses, the flick attracted extensive press from genre websites. I suspect this might have been a calculated advertising campaign to build hype for Barker's next release, as he already had a movie deal based on the success of those earlier shorts. "Obsession" was in-production when "Milk & Serial" went viral, Blumhouse picking the film up in post and Focus Features agreeing to distribute it after a single festival screening. Am I suggesting Curry Barker is that most dreaded of pop culture imposters, the industry plant? Probably not, merely that his success was not quite as overnight as it appeared. But "Obsession" was undeniably a success, making twenty times its budget opening weekend and attracting ecstatic reactions from critics and viewers. As the third or fourth "scariest movie ever" released in 2026, I felt the need to weigh in. 

Bear has had a crush on Nikki since childhood. Advice from their mutual friends Ian and Sarah have gotten him nowhere. Upon learning that Nikki plans on moving away from Atlanta soon, Bear realizes he has to shoot his shot. While attempting to purchase a replacement for a crystal necklace Nikki recently lost, Bear instead comes upon a trinket called a One Wish Willow. You take the stick-shaped object out of the box, declare your wish, snap it in half, and supposedly it will come true. Bear buys the device, intending to give it to Nikki as a gift. After once again being too cowardly to declare his feelings for her, he instead uses it himself. He wishes that Nikki loved him more than anyone else in the world. Shockingly, the device works as promised... Too well, in fact, as Nikki becomes utterly obsessed with Bear. Her behavior immediately turns disturbing and quickly violent too. The One Wish Willow allows for no take-backs on its wish and Bear must now navigate his crush being distressingly, frantically in love with him. 

I think people were writing stories about how you should be careful what you wish for, because you may get it, approximately ten seconds after the concept of wishes was invented. Many films have played on the irony of this idea, usually through the intervention of a magical plot device or a stiflingly literal genie. "Obsession" operates under the "Big" method, of a seemingly harmless novelty actually having the powers advertised. This is a premise that presents a lot of questions. Bear asks two separate employees at the shop about how the objects work, both seeming to grasp the magical mechanics of the One Wish Willow without stopping to explain how it is possible. Later, Bear calls the number on the box and has a phone call with some creepy dude, who soon summons hellish screams. So, what, the One Wish Willow is some sort of demonic object? That traps people in Hells of their own making, luring them in with the promise of fulfilling their deepest desire, a punishment for avarice and want? Except later, we see someone use the One Wish Willow and immediately receive what they want with seemingly no negative consequences. To find out that Curry Barker got his start in sketch comedy makes sense, as "Obsession" operates with the logic of a "SNL" bit. You're presented with one idea – magical wish makes protagonist's life hell – up until a swerve arrives that subverts that seemingly straight-forward set-up, for an ironic punch line. 

This works fine within the space of a five minute Youtube video. Over the course of a feature film, however, other problems present itself. Cinematographer Taylor Clemens gives "Obsession" a muted, frequently too dark color palette. The camera angles are usually close up on the actors' face, the framing boxy. When combined with production design that focuses on an untidy mundanity, such as in Bear's slightly sketchy apartment, the presumed aesthetic is a grounded, realistic one. "Obsession" wants to operate like a nightmare, everyday reality slowly becoming increasingly "off" with horrific interjections. The visual approach might have helped create that but the film can never make its more outlandish moments feel like they could logically exist in this world. Such as in a scene where Bear turns around to discover that Nikki, in her mania, has completely plastered the front door over with duct tape. That's a sight gag, a joke, and it feels too at-odds with the presented reality of the film. 

This is not the only example of a vexing disconnect between the film's stated premise and its actual execution. "Obsession's" title and general setup suggest a twist on the stalker with a crush thriller. Nikki's intense mood swings, possessiveness, histrionic reactions to the mere idea of abandonment, public tantrums, and trying to blame Bear for her actions are not-so-tasteful invocations of borderline personality disorder. Other moments – such as when she stands in one place all day, waiting for Bear to come home from work, pissing, shitting and apparently puking right there – go back to the idea that she is being compelled to literally not function when he isn't around. Other times, however, Nikki just does crazy shit for no reason. She'll space out for a second and then shriek. A lengthy sequence has her flittering around a dark bedroom like a sleep paralysis demon. She does a public performance of an incestuous poem or delivers a rambling monologue from a shadow doorway. The dumbest reoccurring idea is postmortem uses for a cat. Why would a person obsessively in love with you do that? Inde Navarrette's facial contortions and unhinged theatrics are impressive but it can't cover the lack of interior coherence here. 

There is, I suspect, reasons for these lapses in logic. "Obsession" is not depicting these things because it follows the story's reasoning. Instead, it wants to scare and freak out the audience. This is why there are gross-out reveals concerning unconventional lunch meat and bodily fluids, night terror-like shenanigans, and extremely uncomfortable public declarations. "Obsession" is as self-conscious about its desire to be scary as your average jump scare filled potboiler, only with highly engineered cringe-inducers than sudden and loud noises. (Further indicated by repeated face-bashing trauma, which has quickly become a cliche of "elevated" horror.) This is why Nikki acts more like a person possessed by a demon at times than a yandere fanatically infatuated with someone. This is also why the plot twists itself in silly configurations. Such as someone asking Bear to leave the apartment and talk to them after Nikki has repeatedly reminded him to never leave her side, which has predictable results. In fact, "Obsession" is one of those movies where a lot of the plot would've been resolved if the characters simply said what they were feeling. 

This is, I suppose, part of the point of "Obsession." Quickly, the film reveals itself as a series of punishments and humiliations for its hapless protagonist. Bear, as played by a suitably sweaty Michael Johnston, is an utterly spineless individual. He is too afraid of rejection to tell Nikki how he feels and too timid to stand up to her once she becomes obsessive. Ultimately, he's also too cowardly to take responsibility for his own actions, trying to weasel his way out at the last minute of the climax. He is an archetypal "nice guy," feeling entitled to romantic love but unwilling to risk anything to earn it, and "Obsession" is the machine designed to torment him for this crime. Despite quickly grasping that Nikki is not acting under her own free will, he still accepts her initial affection and has sex with her. Is the parallel we are meant to grasp here that having a crush on someone, wishing they liked you as much as you like them, is tantamount to rape? This has been the reading many have taken with "Obsession," seeing it as a dark comedy that presents the audience with a Guy That Sucks and making him suffer for our amusement. But I don't know, man. The attitude I got was more self-hating than anything else, cinematic flagellation from a recovering dweeb who is now embarrassed that he was ever anything like this. What is there to be gained from watching a sad boy grapple with the consequences of his own sexist disregard for the bodily autonomy of the woman he claims to respect, but merely only desires, for ninety minutes? I guess this is a lesson that many men still need to hear but "Obsession's" ironically smug handling made me more irritated than anything else. 

Thus, I must part ways with the critical consensus. There are clever elements to "Obsession." Several shots depict Nikki's face in darkness or half-light, rendering her literally faceless much the same way Bear's wish took away all her agency. This does tie in nicely with all that head bashing. However, once the blood and puke and overly proud-of-itself profanities and half-assed gross-outs and shapeless creepiness start to pile up, I found the experience increasingly tedious. Kudos to the folks who dug it but "Obsession" was not for me. Barker has his considerably more star-studded follow-up in the can and has already been plucked for a big franchise gig. (Insomuch that the umpteenth attempt to turn "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" into a consistent money generator can be considered "big.") I think the guy is talented but I personally found "Obsession's" writing inconsistent, its attempts at scares annoying, and its intended greater message shallow. [4/10]

Short Night of Glass Dolls (1970)

 

The way the Italian film industry used to crank 'em out back in the day is truly something to behold. If one film became a hit, suddenly every cinematograpfica was packed to the gills with similar motion pictures. The peak period for the giallo was actually fairly short-lived, running from around 1969 to about 1973. That three year period saw over a hundred different stylish murder-mystery thrillers gracing Italian screens. No wonder the style burnt itself out so quickly! Argento, Bava, and Martino would emerge as the most notable names but the sheer number of gialli made meant quite a few filmmakers have earned cult followings for their work in the subgenre. A less well known name is Aldo Lado. He scripted a killer thriller named “The Designated Victim” in 1971 before going on to make “Short Night of the Glass Dolls” and “Who Saw Her Die?” The former title seems especially well regarded. I've always remembered that evocative title – I mean, it wouldn't be a gialli without one – and decided to give this one a watch this year.  

 

In Prague, a park's groundskeeper discovers what is seemingly the dead body of a man. The apparent corpse is quickly identified as Gregory Moore, a journalist. Despite his death-like state, Gregory is very much alive. As he lays on the slab, he thinks back on the events that led him here. It started with the disappearance of his girlfriend, Jessica. She was a defectee from the Soviet Union and vanished after the two attended a fancy party. The authorities attempt to dissuade Gregory from investigating further but he's unconvinced. His contacted by a mysterious old man who claims to know what happened to Jessica. The man is pushed in front of an on-coming train before getting a chance to talk to Gregory. He starts to follow the clues left behind, which lead him to a mysterious organization called Klub 99. Can he recall what led him to the morgue and will he be able to fully awaken before an autopsy is performed on his still-living body?

 

The giallo is well known for its button-pushing content in terms of violence and sex. Less discussed is the political underpinnings of the style. Authority can rarely be trusted in these stories, with elaborate cover-ups or murderous priests appearing from time-to-time. “Short Night of the Glass Dolls” pairs this with a more explicit Soviet-era unease. Despite being as Italian as any other example, “Short Night” is actually a cross-European production. It's set in Prague, was a co-production with West German and Yugoslav companies, and was mostly filmed in Croatia. (Lado was ethnically Croatian, which feels like a significant point.) The story is explicitly political, with Jessica's status as a former Soviet and Gregory being an outsider in this city factoring into the story. While most gialli depict the police as either eccentric or incompetent, “Short Night” has them as fully antagonistic. The cops try to stop Gregory from digging into what's going on here. It's a welcomed bit of A.C.A.B. theming and goes hand-in-hand with the sense within the story that the protagonist shouldn't trust anyone. 

 

There's a good reason for that. I do my best to avoid spoilers in my reviews, especially for films more on the obscure spectrum like this. However, it's tricky to discuss “Short Night of Glass Dolls” without spoiling its last act. Gregory's investigation leads him to blind weirdos, sheds full of doll parts, butterflies, and hippy love-ins with strumming guitars. Most of these are red herrings for the true culprits behind the disappearances: The Illuminati! Yes, “Short Night of Glass Dolls” climaxes with the hero storming into an “Eyes Wide Shut” style ritualistic orgy among the elites. Conspiracy theories about the rich and powerful gathering in mansions to do pervy, witchy shit often go hand-in-hand with racist or xenophobic rhetoric. However, history has repeatedly shown that the rich and powerful gathering to bleed life from the poor and young is an all-too-common occurrence. Aldo's film running with this idea further places its anti-authoritarian politics in context. 

 

It's a damn good finale. Glaring faces emerge from the darkness and Jean Soral's head spins around like he's been taking lessons from Linda Blair. As is also typical of the subgenre, “Short Night” is stylishly shot and scored. While the cinematography is nice and shadowy, and makes great use of the city's architecture, the editing is what really caught my eye here. The film is cut with a precise, poetic rhythm. Maybe this is extra apparent because so much of the story is told in flashback, cutting between the past and Gregory's currently paralyzed state being an important element. This is another giallo with an Ennio Morricone score. While the music isn't as memorable as his “Four Flies on Grey Velvet” or “A Lizard in a Woman's Skin” soundtracks, it's still quite eerie. 

 

In other words, “Short Night of Glass Dolls” has a lot going for it. So why didn't the film hook me more? Jean Sorel's lead performance is okay. He's got the big, dreamy eyes that are well suited to the film. However, the guy seems to lack much in the way of personality. He talks much about how much he loves his missing girlfriend but we simply don't see much evidence of it. In fact, he hooks up with his ex despite ostensibly being grieving throughout the entire story. I found Mario Adorf, as the boisterous friend, to be a much more likable presence. “Short Night of Glass Dolls” also has a slow pace. While stories that wander around a lot without going much of anywhere are not always rare in gialli, this one seems to have an especially aimless story. The hero spends the whole film coming close to uncovering something, only to be pushed away at the last minute. This continues until the conclusion, making the entire film feel a bit like a delayed pay-off to its best idea.

 

It's a bummer that I ultimately couldn't get onto this one's wavelength. That climax is awesome and the scene that follows are equally creepy. Simply put, the path to get there isn't quite compelling enough to make the wait worth it. This one needed some more hyper-stylized cinematography perhaps. Or more surreal touches, like the legless beggar who appears in the first scene. Or maybe having your main character be isolated on the operating table for most of the story robs it of some tension. Whatever the reason, I wasn't feeling this one on this watch. I'll probably have to give it another look to warm up to it. Also, the title is nonsensical even by the standards of baroque. I'm sure the narrative can be said to feature a quickly passing nocturne featuring metaphorical crystal playthings of some sort but, if so, I missed it. [6/10]

 

 

 

Supernatural: Dorabella

The episode of “Supernatural” – the BBC gothic horror anthology from 1977, not any other show with that name – was pretty good, so here's another one. Walter Von Lambert submits his story for the approval of the Club of the Damned. He tells of traveling Europe with his close friend Philip. While stopping in an obscure city, they witness a performance of music and magic by a beautiful young woman named Dorabella. Philip is immediately smitten and Dorabella is happy to reciprocate. Walter notices that his friend's behavior quickly changes. He stays up all night. He acts strange. He suddenly insist that they drag an ornate box with them everything, whose contents smoke in the sunlight. Most pointedly, people start to die where ever Dorabella seems to travel. Upon arriving at the estate of Dorabella's family, for her marriage to Philip, Walter comes to the inevitable conclusion: His buddy's new girlfriend is a vampire. 

I'll have to ask my best bro about this, since I'm the one getting married soon. However, it's often been observed that a man changes when a new woman comes into his life. Walter and Phillip are best buddies but, the minute he turns his focus on Dorabella, their bromance comes to an abrupt end. Dorabella is controlling, glaring at any other woman that approaches the duo. He's obsessed with her too, seeing visions of the women and dragging that coffin around for her. It's an interesting parallel to draw, between someone becoming the thrall to a vampire and losing a friend to a clinging, controlling relationship. Their wedding ceremony involves Phillip slipping on a ring with a spike in it that pierces his fingers, Dorabella sucking the blood from it, a literal depiction of her draining his life force away. The premise allows for another layer to this story. Before the end, Walter asks his buddy to leave his new bride behind and run away with him instead. It can't help but read as a homoerotic pleading. Phillip has put a ho before his bro and Walter isn't happy about it. She doesn't understand you like I do, man. 

I can't help but find this Bitches Ain't Shit subtext funny. It's also befitting of the gothic horror traditions “Supernatural” was clearly following. As in the last episode I covered, the atmosphere is thick in this one. The entire last act takes place in a creepy old mansion, with ominous faces carved into the stone pillars. There's a shot of a cloaked Dorabella standing in the shadows, framed by the moon behind her, fog rolling around her feet. That scratches that classic horror craving of mine. Ania Marson certainly has the sex appeal and undercurrent of danger that would be worthy of a vintage Hammer flick. 

The creepiest addition “Supernatural” makes to the vampire lore is one that I genuinely don't think I've seen anywhere else. The servants in the vampire manor are blind, their eyes turned milky white with cataracts. This feature extends to the vampire themselves. It's a good representation of how joining the legion of the undead robs a person of their humanity. It's also creepy looking, a fact the episode utilizes well in several moments. Most notably the twist ending, which I definitely should've seen coming but was nicely caught off-guard by. This is a great dose of gothic horror, as slow as any other classic British genre show but with a genuine atmosphere of creepy, classy dread to go along with it. [8/10]
 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Scarecrow

I'm going to be honest with you guys. One of the main reasons I wanted to finally watch “Friday the 13th: The Series” this autumn is because I read that it has a pretty good episode about a creepy scarecrow, one of my favorite underutilized monster archetypes. The episode is, in fact, called “Scarecrow.” Ryan has sent out mailers across Canada to help locate more cursed objects, which takes him and Micki into the countryside. They are in search of an old scarecrow and their path leads them to the Cobean farm. The couple is clearly hiding something, if the mentally disabled and violent son they keep locked up in the attic is any indication. The Curious Goods team run into some other faces. Marge, the local innkeeper, seems too friendly for her own good. Ryan finds a kid hiding in a near-by home, taking him under his wing, and this is when the truth starts to come out. It would seem the Cobean farm is the only successful one in the area. This is the result of the scarecrow, which crawls down off his post and decapitates any one whose picture is placed on its chest. 

The scarecrow has always struck me as an especially pagan image. These are effigies of men that are crucified out in the field, to guard over the harvest. It's very easy to imagine them as remnants of the old ways, lingering reminders of traditions so old, we no longer remember why we do them. Fittingly, quite a few killer scarecrow stories have a folk horror edge. This episode certainly does. The murderous straw man is activated by old magik and implemented in human sacrifices, all in return for a bountiful crop. The responsible party – guess if you can figure out who – has some serious witch-like vibes about her. While the episode is low on country winds whispering through the stalks, the final chase is backgrounded by one of those Amish quilts. When you add in a barn full of dangling dead bodies and an extremely cool final shot of the cross posts before the evening sun, it leads to some fine ambiance. 

It also helps that the scarecrow itself has got a creepy design. The sack head looks a bit like the features of a human face stretched and warped in one direction. Scythes are more evocative of the Grim Reaper than tilling the fields in this day and age, making that an appropriate murder weapon. “Scarecrow” is another episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series” that recalls the slasher movies the show is ostensibly spun-off from. We've got a masked, lumbering killer slicing folks up, including a surprisingly gory on-screen decapitation. A moment of a shrieking woman, wielding a butcher knife high, leaping from the shadows feels like another feather from Miss Voorhees' cap that this show plucked. 

This episode also expands on the central duo's backstory a little. We learn Ryan had a little brother that died after being struck by a car. He carries his baseball around as a reminder. Naturally, the orphan he quasi-adopts acts as a surrogate of sorts. It feels like a detail thrown in to graft some extra pathos. Will Ryan's dead brother ever be mentioned again? Not to mention this show already had one of the protagonist look after a random little kid in an earlier episode. Still, these two have grown on me a lot. Watching them slowly pull the hints together is amusing. There's a moment when Micki notices a clue and leaps into action that I especially liked, even if it's a total misdirect. Jack's absence in this episode and the last are explained by him being on vacation but I've grown attached enough to Robey and John LeMay that I still had a good time with “Scarecrow.” [7/10]