Halloween 2025: October 11th

 

The Queen of Black Magic (1981)
Ratu Ilmu Hitam

Familiarizing oneself with another country's horror history means getting to know that country's horror stars. The actress known professionally as Suzzanna had been working since 1958. She became well known for the 1970 human trafficking drama, “Bernafas Dalam Lumpur.” At the start of the eighties, her career would begin a new phase. While macabre films had been made in the country in prior decades – Suzzanna had previously appeared in a 1972 effort, “Birth in the Grave” – Indonesian horror would really kick off in 1980 with “Satan's Slave.” The next year saw the release of “Mystics in Bali” and “The Queen of Black Magic,” two more popular and highly influential titles. The latter starred Suzanne, nearly forty at the time but still astonishingly youthful looking. Its success would lead to her starring in a number of horror flicks throughout the eighties, with “Sundel Bolong” and “Santet” being some of the better known titles internationally. That's how she earned the nickname “The Queen of Indonesian Horror.” But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back to “Queen of Black Magic.” 

Murni is a virginal maiden in a small Indonesian village. She is seduced by a man named Kohar, who promises to marry her before taking her to bed. Instead, he discards the girl and marries the daughter of the village's leader, granting himself a privileged status. On their wedding day, the bride begins to experience horrific visions of dead bodies, snakes, and rotting food. Kohar accuses Murni of having bewitched his new wife. He assembles an angry mob that tosses Murni off a cliff. The villagers assume her dead but she has been rescued by Gendon, a powerful sorcerer living in the jungle. He promises to teach Murni the ways of black magic, giving her the abilities she'll need to take revenge on those who have wronged her. However, it turns out that her teacher has an agenda of his own. The situation is further complicated by the arrival of Permana, a Muslim authority brought in to investigate all the strangeness, that Murni feels drawn to. 

My previous exposure to eighties Indonesian horror was watching “Mystics in Bali” last October. That movie was delightfully insane, in its commitment to using low budget special effects to create truly bizarre and gruesome sights. “The Queen of Black Magic” doesn't pack in quite as much rubbery madness as that movie but it comes close. Murni's specialty, as a enchantress, is to compel the men who tried to destroy her to destroy themselves. A notable scene has a guy's muscles flexing and pulsating until his skin bursts apart. Another stand-out sequence involves a fellow tearing his own head off, which then comes to life and attacks someone else. When not employing these methods, Murni calls upon a horde of vicious bees or spins someone into the ground like a drill bit. As you might expect, the visual effects are far from seamless. However, the cheesy quality only adds to the movie's charm. “Queen of Black Magic” constantly surprises its viewer with one unexpected and grisly sight after another, brought to life with lots of mutating rubber skin and spurting fake blood. It is, in other words, cool as shit and utterly entertaining.

The stereotype is that Asian countries are incredibly patriarchal, which is often reflected in its cinema. This element of Indonesian society is obviously reflected in “The Queen of Black Magic.” The idea of a woman giving her virginity to anyone but the man she'll married is treated as an enormous scandal. It's enough to mark Murni as a pariah even before she's accused of witchcraft. The man, of course, receives no blow back whatsoever for sleeping around. On one level, Murni becoming a magical avenger certainly suggests this is a narrative about fighting back against these restrictive systems. Except, of course, that she's still under a man's control when learning black magic. Moreover, the second half shows Murni being increasingly manipulated by her teacher while she longs to return to traditionally feminine roles like being a mother. The ending makes sure to find a way to excuse Murni for transgressing, having her die a forgiven woman that is subservient to a good man. The moral of “The Queen of Black Magic” definitely seems to be that it's wrong for a man to pressure a woman into sex and generally mislead her... While also pointing towards the idea that a mother, wife, daughter, and sister is still the most she should aspire to. 

This is not the only odd cultural dynamic at play here. “The Queen of Black Magic” is quite unambiguous in its depiction of occult powers as something to be reckoned with. In addition to all the horrors Murni reaps, her teacher is able to make a man's belly swell like he's pregnant with the use of enchanted dolls or shoot fireballs from his hands. While “Mystics in Bali” showed good white magic as the opposing force to the evil witchcraft, the hero in this film is a Muslim sufi. I don't know anything about how Islamic beliefs influence Indonesian culture, other than it's the majority religion in the country. The presumption is that a Muslim hero in an Indonesian movie, in combat against black magic, plays a similar role to a Catholic priest in an American exorcism movie. Except the white men of God are usually kind of useless against the devil. The hero in “Queen of Black Magic” knows exactly what he's doing, He counters what the villain throws at him and is gloriously victorious. Maybe there really is no god but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet after all...

It's easy to see why Suzzanna would become the face of the horror genre in her home country. She does have an enchanting presence. She is capable of playing both an innocent woman who has been wronged and a wicked force of vengeance. While it can be a bit tricky to tell how the film expects us to feel about her character at any given point, her performance makes sure that we're always on her side. More than anything else, “The Queen of Black Magic” is packed full of unforgettably bizarre images. Murni going somersaults through the air before a full moon or a body exploding graphically right before the end titles come up abruptly: Oh yeah, that's the stuff. That's what I seek out in cult cinema like this. While not quite the parade of lunacy that “Mystics in Bali” was, this was still a ton of fun. [7/10]

 

Watchers 3 (1994)

New Concorde was something like Roger Corman's third or fourth company, depending on what exactly you count. By the early nineties, the studio was absolutely in the business of producing quickie, direct-to-video sequels to whatever their latest hit was. This is why they made eight “Bloodfist” movies, five “Carnosaurs” kind of, and two sequels to “Munchies.” Clearly, the video stores is where the company was having their greatest success. That is probably why “Watchers II” went straight-to-VHS in 1990. It must have sold well but not so well as to rush a third installment out. When a deal came along that allowed Corman to make some films cheaply in Peru, I guess somebody figured that would be a good place to shoot “Watchers 3.” Marc Singer was, I guess, unavailable so instead Wings Hauser – another cult celeb casualty of 2025, sad to say – would team up with a super-smart dog against another genetically engineered monster this time. 

A top secret aircraft is shot down over a jungle infested Central American country. Two creatures escape from a container that is left behind. The first is a mundane golden retriever. The second is a hideous monster, that sets about immediately tearing apart a local military encampment.  Meanwhile, a decorated soldier named Ferguson is being held in military prison, for unspecified crimes. A government official named Stratten makes him an offer. Ferguson and a team of other ex-military convicts will be sent into the jungle after the monster as a black ops. unit. If they can capture the beast, their records will be cleared. Shortly after arriving, Ferguson encounters a super-smart dog that he recognizes as Einstein. Yes, it's at this point that “Watchers 3” is revealed as an actual sequel to the second movie. Oh yeah, he also realizes that the team hasn't been sent to stop the Outsider. They've been sent to prove how effective a killing machine it really is.

It wasn't too difficult to see that “Predator” was a clear influence on the first two “Watchers” movies. The original features its hero setting traps for the monster in the forest. The second doubled-up on the action elements, while adding more infrared-style point-of-view shots from the creature's perspective. Despite that, the movies at least carried the main gimmick of the book forward by focusing on the relationships between the heroes and the hyper-intelligent dogs they befriend. Unfortunately, “Watchers 3” has comparatively little of that. Ferguson and Einstein are not reunited until about half through the movie. For most of the film, the dog hangs out with a mute boy. The exclusively jungle setting leaves few chances for cute scenes of Einstein doing extraordinary activities like typing or driving a car. Instead, “Watchers 3” commits itself entirely to being a “Predator” rip-off. This is a movie about commandos, sent into the jungle under false pretenses, being killed off one-by-one by a super competent monster. Several scenes are directly copied from John MacTiernan's sci-fi/action classic. Such as the monster tending to its wounds and shrieking towards the heavens or the hero rigging up a swinging log booby trap for the beast. 

I don't know why New Horizon decided to produce a blatant knock-off of “Predator,” four years after the cloaked extraterrestrial hunter lurked through the big city. What I do know is that the budget clearly was not here to emulate the pyrotechnics and over-the-top action that made “Predator” a classic. Instead, “Watchers 3” seems to feature a lot of downtime for its team of ex-con bad-asses. There are a handful of encounters with the Outsider in the first half but none are allowed to escalate very far. This means the runtime is padded out with many sequences of the guys bickering among themselves. The one female on the squad is harassed by the biggest asshole on the team, encouraging Ferguson to bark about how he's a dad now or whatever. There's lots of scenes of the dudes challenging his authority, debating what to do, or looking back on their time in Vietnam. Wings Hauser had a certain raspy charm but that can only go so far. A long sequence in which he explains the events of the previous movie, while leaning against a tree, only gives the impression that this life-or-death situation is not so urgent after all.

That “Watchers 3” ends up more uneventful than thrilling is disappointing. While straying further and further from the alligator/baboon described in Koontz' book, this sequel probably has the coolest look for the Outsider yet. It's a reptilian creature with bulging bug eyes, a bumpy exterior hide, and a decently animated face. The seams in the budget still show repeatedly. Whenever the creature has to run, its various scales and armor flop around. It makes the same canned hissing/shrieking dinosaurian monster noises you've heard in a hundred other B-movies. However, when dedicated to the monster tearing dudes apart, “Watchers 3” finally develops a pulse. The gory dismemberment mostly play out on-screen this time. Two bloody moments that couldn't help but make me laugh involved the monster ripping the flesh from a guy's chest until the rib cage was revealed and a rather rubbery beheading. Once the rest of Ferguson's team bit the dust, and the film becomes a mano-a-monsto showdown, the feeling of dull inevitability overtakes it once again. 

“Watchers 3” cooks a little bit of “Rambo: First Blood Part II” into its premise as well, what with the good guy being released from prison only to be screwed over by the man in charge. Because this is a half-assed and low-budget rip-off, we don't get to see Wings get revenge on the stuffed-shirt CIA pencil-pusher who sent him off to die. We do, however, get to see Wings sit down from across a large black man and say “I'm black.” (They are about to play chess, har-har.) There's also an amusingly overheated moment where one of his army buddies has a Vietnam flashback right at the moment of death, leading to much overacting from both parties involved. Does that make “Watchers 3” worth watching? Not really. This one definitely needed more dog. [5/10]

Truth or Scare: The True Story of Halloween

Of all the prominent celebrity deaths in 2025, the one that hit me the hardest was Michelle Trachtenberg. I'll admit, I had a crush on her back in my middle school days, going so far as to pin a poster of her from the official “Buffy” magazine up on my bedroom wall. I've decided to pay homage to Miss Trachtenberg by digging up an overlooked series she hosted. In 1996, Discovery Channel launched a kid-centric spin-off network called, fittingly enough, Discovery Kids. At the time, Discovery was still a brand associated with actual educational programming and this venture was meant to bring the same quality of documentaries and science shows to a younger audience. One such program was “Truth or Scare,” which was basically a version of “In Search Of...” targeted at the 7-to-12 crowd. From a bitchin' looking creepy library set, “Michelle Trachtenberg of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,”” as the credits referred to her, would brings us a little bit of the history behind legends like Dracula, werewolves, Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and haunted locations from all around the world.

Of the twenty-two episodes, “The True Story of Halloween” is obviously the most fitting for this time of year. Over a half-hour, Trachtenberg describes a brief summation of Halloween's roots as a Celtic celebration and how this practice was eventually Christianized and secularized into the holiday we know today. The narration is fairly simplified but the information covered is essentially true. The script has the annoying habit of relying legends under the guise of “a man claims to have seen” something but it gets the message across. A kid watching this would learn that Halloween began as a celebration of the harvest, a commemoration of the spirits of the dead, and a time when spiritual awareness was heightened. Stories like human sacrifices or black cats being burned at this time are mentioned and smartly dismissed as legends. Instead, the origins of bobbing for apples as a form of divination or trick-or-treating's probable beginnings as the Catholic tradition of souling are high-lighted. Good stuff for a eight year old to learn back in October of 2001. 

The footage that plays behind this narration is standard B-roll of nineties trick-or-treaters. The number of Ghostface masks on display make that clear. When Michelle is discussing the legend of Stingy Jack, we get some fun footage of a guy in a devil mask hanging out in a tree. “Truth or Scare” mixes in a little bit of backstory behind the vampire and witches legends too. A modern pagan named Fiona Horne is interviewed to provide some insight into witchcraft history and its link to the modern Halloween. Anybody well versed in the history and folklore of the holiday isn't going to learn anything new here. However, it sets a fittingly spooky ambiance for anybody who has nostalgia for this era of television. This is especially true of the opening titles – depicted as an animated trip through the secret passageways of a haunted host – and the cool goth fashion Trachtenberg wears in her host segments. While surrounded by pumpkins and candles, no less. No wonder my twelve year old self got a good look at her and started feeling things. Rest in peace, Michelle. [7/10]

The Far Countries (1965)

Les pays loin

Before Jean Rollin started making his dreamy sexploitation movies about naked lady vampires and an immediately recognizable beach, he was a young filmmaker trying to establish himself. After failing to make a documentary about Francisco Franco, he directed a surreal short entitled "The Far Countries." It concerns a young man wandering through the streets of a ruined city, covered with rubble. He has few memories and only knows he is seeking the town center. The people he meets speak a strange unearthly language, always too busy to help him. In an underground tunnel, he meets a young woman who speaks French. Her memories are also fragmented but, together, the two attempt to navigate through this strange, inhospitable place. 

Rollin was a filmmaker obsessed with reoccurring ideas and images. He returned to many of them over and over again throughout his career, like reprises during an orchestral piece. "The Far Countries" lacks the sexploitation or gothic elements of his later work but does zero in on another persistent theme. Here, we see a man wandering through a strange city. He doesn't know anything about it, other than he doesn't belong here. Rollin protagonists are always misfits and, more often than not, they wander through labyrinth locations where they do not fit in. The lack of memory – revisited in "Night of the Hunted" – and not speaking the language makes the outsiderdom in "The Far Countries" even more existential. The man doesn't know how he got here, where he's going, and can't make anyone understand how lost he is. You can't help but interpret the film as a metaphor for life when you're a confused young person, with not much behind you and no idea of what's ahead, surrounded by a hostile landscape where everyone around you doesn't even speak the same words as you. 

The protagonist persists in this state until he meets a girl, who is enough like him that they can form a bond. There's no resolution to "The Far Countries" but what we do get is a young couple finding some form of solace in each other's arms. The ending is more hopeful than Rollin's later films that touched on similar ideas, like "The Iron Rose" or "Lips of Blood," which veer more towards tragedy or ennui. In general, the short lacks the threat of death or campy dime store horror trappings that haunts his later work. However, it has the same sort of dreamy otherness that I seek from Rollin. Ideas here – running into a friend at his home and being unable to convince him of what you need because he's about to leave on an important trip – feel right out of an anxious dream. As do inexplicable but somehow meaningful images like the man picking up a dislocated door and laying it aside. Describing the "The Far Countries" as horror exactly is a real stretch. (Though being lost in a seemingly post-apocalyptic city where everyone speaks a weird language you can't understand would be pretty scary.) Yet, for Rollin fans like me, it provides a tantalizing glimpse into his early days, when the obsessions were just taking roots but the symbols resonate with the same hard-to-define importance. [7/10]

Halloween 2024: October 9th

Mahakaal (1994)

Don't think for a minute that remakes of foreign language hits are a strictly Hollywood phenomenon. Look no further than Freddy Krueger for an American pop culture creation that other countries simply could not stop ripping off. Mexico brought us “Don't Panic” and its croaking Virgil. Indonesia mashed up Freddy with “The Exorcist” in “Satan's Bed.” The Italians had their own take too, naturally. Of all these Nightmare Feddys, none are more notorious than “Mahakaal.” With the English title of simply “The Monster” – though “Time of Death” seems to be a more accurate translation – the film has become notorious for being India's answer to Wes Craven's classic, with all the tropes you associate with that country's cinematic language. For years, out-of-context clips of the “Bollywood Freddy Krueger” movie have been passed around for hardened horror fans to laugh and point at. Perhaps one should not be so quick to dismiss the film though, despite it being a blatant knock-off of an iconic classic. “Mahakaal” is the work of Shyam and Tulsi Ramsey, two of most popular Hindi horror directors. That suggests the film deserves to be examined more deeply than its status as a meme suggests. 

College student Anita is having nightmares about a strange, scarred man with a clawed metal glove. She notices the wounds she sustains in her dreams seem to translate to her physical body when she wakes up. Her police chief father – still heartbroken over the murder of his youngest daughter, Mohini, years earlier – tells her not to worry about it. Her friend Seema is having the same dreams too. While on a picnic with their boyfriends, Prakash and Param, Seema dies violently in her sleep. Param is the only suspect in the case but he is also soon bizarrely killed in his prison cell. As the nightmares continue to haunt Anita, she discovers the same clawed glove in her father's desk. It turns out her dad buried a sorcerer named Shakaal alive after he murdered Mohini to increase his magical powers. Shakaal has now returned as a dream-invading demon, determined to rebirth himself into the physical world by possessing Anita and getting his revenge on the police chief. 

Inevitably, "Mahakaal" will be of most interest to western horror fans for the elements it blatantly takes from "A Nightmare on Elm Street." The film doesn't stop at swiping the general premise – a burned murderer with a razor gloves kills people in their dreams – and goes so far as to directly copy several scenes. Anita, our Nancy stand-in, falls asleep in class and sees a dead body in a plastic bag beckoning her into a boiler room. When Param surprises her outside school, it mirrors Rod trying to convince Nancy of his innocence in Craven's film. Obviously, the dream killer framing a girl's boyfriend for her murder is a plot point taken directly from "Elm Street." "Mahakaal" doesn't stop at emulating the original either. As the film goes on, it starts bringing in ideas and sequences from the sequels too. Anita being possessed by Shakaal, so the villain can re-enter reality, is clearly inspired by "Freddy's Revenge." Later, Shakaal kills the secondary villain by springing out of his waterbed, replicating the "wet dream" kill from "Nightmare 4." There's a shot of the glove sailing through the air by itself too, which I suspect was also inspired by that sequel. 

As similar as "Mahakaal" is to the Krueger canon, the differences are notable as well. No film is made in a vacuum, "Mahakaal" filtering the Hollywood creation through a Hindi cultural lens. First off, everyone is made older, the teen heroes being transplanted to college. The Freddy stand-in's status as a child murderer is downplayed and his perverse tendencies are totally absent. This means the stranger danger premise of a weirdo dragging a kid down into the boiler room for unspeakable reasons are gone too. Shakaal still hangs out in a dark, hot, industrial setting but no deeper reason is provided. Shakaal also still has a fucked-up face but he's now a victim of being buried alive, instead of burned. (He also has a full head of hair, sporting a mullet of sorts.) All of this feels like a result of different censorship standards. Indeed, "Mahakaal" keeps most of its gore off-screen. Shakaal's methods involve covering his victim with a blanket when they get slashed or summoned cobras to bite them to death. The bladed glove is more for intimidation than execution, it seems. The only changes that seem to truly reflect Indian ideology is a scene where a Hindu monk is consulted and Anita's parents still being together. 

Instead of filtering Craven's original through the unique sensibilities of their culture, the Ramsey brothers mostly stand Bollywood cinematic staples alongside the familiar moments. Which is to say "Mahakaal" contains countless wild tonal shifts. First and foremost: Yes, the movie is a musical. Disappointingly, this does not mean the Freddy rip-off sings and dances. However, Anita, Prakash and their friends do perform several extensive numbers. Prakash and Anita head to the beach and sing a lengthy song about their love for each other. Later, the gang goes on a picnic, resulting in another long production about what a great idea that is. After Shakaal takes over Anita, it leads to a full-blown disco sequence. What is most staggering about these scenes is there is no attempt to blend these songs with the horror tone of the rest of the movie. The characters will go from being chased by Not-Freddy through his spooky lair to a music video-style breakdown. It catches you off-guard. This isn't my genre of music, so I can't say the trilling vocals, repetitive lyrics, and chintzy melodies are appealing to me. Though that picnic song is kind of catchy...

The bizarre tonal shifts do not stop there. "Mahakaal" wildly leaps through different genres without warning. Everyone in the film is friends with Canteen, who can charitably be called the wacky comic relief. He is introduced impersonating Michael Jackson and later mimics Bruce Lee. A very long scene has the same actor playing the weird, pervy owner of a hotel. The comedy here is, to say the least, not to my liking. It's mugging, obnoxious, loud, and unending. As inexplicable as that moment is, a later scene tops it. While Anita and a friend are out on the town, a group of thugs attempt to assault them in a restaurant. Canteen appears to save the day while dressed as Shahenshah, a character from a 1988 film of the same name that, as far as I can tell, is some sort of superhero. That this wacky comedic scene is proceeded by a threat of sexual assault is also not uncommon in "Mahakaal." Anita is almost raped by a gang leader named Randheer. (In addition to multiple scenes of women wearing wet clothes, seemingly a common form of acceptable titillation in Bollywood cinema.) This results in an awkward, if elaborately choreography, fight scene. In fact, sudden pyrotechnics and high-kicking fight scenes can occur any time in "Mahakaal." I guess in a world where people bursting into song and dance is commonplace, everyone being down for a rumble isn't unexpected either. This is, unavoidably, eventually applied to the villain as well. "Mahakaal" concludes with Anita's boyfriend beating the shit out of Shakaal. Let's see Johnny Depp try that.

From my admittedly limited exposure to Indian cinema, bizarre right-turns in style and tone like this do not appear to be altogether atypical. The result is an unpredictable experience. "Mahakaal" is not without some decent horror ambiance. Shakaal's nightmare realm is often shaded in moody purples and reds. Chains dangle from the ceiling ominously. There's a cool, Raimi-esque shot of the camera swooping through the air, not to mention a few P.O.V. angles from the glove. A chase scene through a freezer full of huge sheets of ice is well done. Shakaal mostly hangs out in a creepy den decorated with an enormous skull. The attempts to copy the gore of the original is usually underwhelming, resulting in a lot of very clean looking skeletons popping out or an underwhelming skinless face. However, the finale features both an enormous guillotine and a wall of slowly advancing spikes, which are welcomed additions. 

However, my attempt to genuinely like "Mahakaal" was ultimately a futile one. The comedy is so annoying. The musical numbers are not well integrated into the rest of the story. The ever present but casually dismissed threat of sexual assault did make me uncomfortable. Seeing low budget recreations of famous Hollywood scenes are not truly worth the two hours and twelve minutes it'll take for you to watch this. Indian cinema is a vast landscape, reflecting cultures, languages, ideas and styles. I'm sure horror films better than this have been made in that industry. There's certainly a novelty to "Mahakaal" but, sadly, it's grating humor and whiplash inducing style changes left me more baffled than enthused. [5/10]

The Seduction of Amy (1975) 

Phantasmes

Last year saw the release of "Orchestrator of Storms," as comprehensive a retrospective on the career of Jean Rollin as we're likely to get. Over the years, I've grown quite fond of the French director's dreamy, campy, lady vampire-filled work. The documentary gave me a peek at some of the more obscure corners of Rollin's career too. Such as his occasional forays into hardcore pornography. Rollin's horror films usually strayed into the erotic but, to keep the lights on, he took several triple-X gigs in the middle seventies. Rollin himself was dismissive of his smut but he did deem one worthy of carrying his actual name. "Phantasmes" would see the filmmaker sneaking in some of his reoccurring obsessions amid the expected unsimulated humping. The film currently survives in two forms: The unsubtitled French original and a dubbed U.S. cut, retitled "The Seduction of Amy" and missing twenty minutes. Either print is in miserable shape but, in the name of completeness, I watched both. In other words: I'm reviewing an actual porno and, yes, I watched it twice. Truly, it has come to this.

As you'd expect from a motion picture belonging to this particular genre, "The Seduction of Amy" is rather light on narrative. Amy is a virginal maiden who escapes being assaulted after the brute (played by Rollin himself) punches her into a lake. When she awakens, she is in the secluded chateau of Count Gideon. He claims to be a widower but the truth is stranger. The castle was once owned by the Marquis de Sade and the rituals he performed compel the current residents to get up to similarly unrestrained actions. Other women and guests wander into the building, engaging in lusty pleasures. When Gideon is done with them, they are locked up in the dungeon and subjected to the lash. Will innocent Amy be the next victim of the count's twisted passions or can she reach his inner heart? 

The copy of "The Seduction of Amy" floating around the internet – unsurprisingly, I watched it on a porn site – is in rather sad condition. It's dark and murky. The color grading shifts randomly from scene to scene, scratches and grain are ever present, and the reel visibly breaks at one point! However, through the subpar presentation, one can spot some of the Rollin trademarks. The isolated chateau setting has the gothic trappings that define his career. This becomes especially apparent when Amy – in a see-through nightgown, another Rollin trademark – wanders the castle at night with a candelabra. Rollin's visual playfulness and love of horror atmosphere shows the most during a coupling set in a tomb. The female performer's shadow is cast large over the stone walls as she goes about her business with her male costar. The final love scene takes place on a beach, though not the beach that crops up in so many of the director's films. 

Thematically, the film is abreast – excuse the pun – of some of Rollin's other work. "The Seduction of Amy" can never quite capture the dreamy atmosphere of "Shivers of the Vampire" or "Lost in New York," being far too preoccupied with the earthly nature of the flesh. There are touches here and there though, especially when Gideon leads one of his conquests for a walk around the castle ruins. The story, of an innocent wandering into a frightening and corrupt world, recalls "The Demoniacs" and "Living Dead Girl." The way Amy inevitably partakes in the explicit actions without sacrificing her own pure demeanor, acting out of love and not lust, is another reoccurring idea of the director. As seen in "The Iron Rose" and "Night of the Hunted," naïf like female protagonists lost in dangerous and sexual netherlands, pulled between corruption and child-like perspectives, was the obsession Rollin was most stuck on, outside of vampires and creepy locations. Instead of "Dracula" or "Carmilla," "Beauty and the Beast" feels like the main source of reference here, what with a young maiden becoming the captive of a monstrous but pathetic man whose better nature she slowly brings out. 

As for the horror content, it's light. The spooky setting, women in cages, and themes of madness and obsession push the film into the margins of the genre. The most blatantly horrific scenes involve Amy being chased back to the castle by a menacing bank of fog and a DeSadian whipping. You can tell Rollin was doing his best to insert some of his personality into this one. However, unavoidably, "Phantasmes" fills most of its runtime with bodies intertwining in all the ways you'd expect. I know various scholars have gone to bat for the artistic merits of the porno chic era but "The Seduction of Amy" doesn't strike me as a good example of that. The lovemaking is mechanical. The camera work is clinical, with lingering close-ups on the orifices and appendages of the participating models. An earlier sequence in the shadowy catacombs of the castle suggests maybe Rollin was able to balance his aesthetic with adult movie expectations. However, most of the rest of the film is made up of the kind of sweaty, hairy eroticism likely typical of any motion picture of this type. The English dub, meanwhile, features some truly atrocious pop-rock on the soundtrack. Repetitive, tinny songs about "a red-headed woman" and how you can "double your pleasure" make many of the graphic scenes hard to get through. And not that kind of hard either... I thought seventies porn was supposed to have funky guitar soundtracks? I was promised bow-chicka-wow-wows. 

Every film deserves to be graded on its own merits. Since "The Seduction of Amy" is designed to get the viewer off, the questions must be asked... Is it arousing? Well, the actresses are all fairly attractive and you see a lot of them. Rollin regulars the Castell sisters appear, participating in some school girl themed spanking and other ribald activities. For the most part, it's tedious rather than interesting, much less erotic. I prefer my smut with more artistic flair or fetishistic intensity than this, it seems. Something about the equation is off when you think a porno movie would be better if the sex scenes were cut out. Since this is supposedly the best of Rollin's hardcore movies, I don't think I'll be compelled to dig up any of the other ones. My morbid curiosity is appeased but neither my higher nor lower functions were especially tickled by this presentation. We now return to our regular programming. Begone bushes and dongs! [5/10]

The Outer Limits (1995): First Anniversary

After watching an episode of "Goosebumps" yesterday, it got me thinking about horror/supernatural themed show for kids that's actually good, "So Weird." That show was molded by two writers, Jon Cooksey and Ali Marie Matheson. (Both of whom, by the way, I've had a chance to interview.) Among that duo's credits is also an episode of the 1995 revival of "The Outer Limits." Since I haven't liked most of the installments of this series I've watched, that gave me an extra incentive to watch "First Anniversary."

Based on a story by Ali's dad, "First Anniversary" follows an insurance agent named Norman. Through work, he meets the beautiful Ady – whose first husband recently died in a car accident – and the two quickly marry. The first year goes great. However, after that, Norman has moments where he's suddenly disgusted by the taste or smell of his wife. He tries to ignore it but the incidents escalate to disturbing audio and visual hallucinations as well. After his buddy – who is married to Ady's best friend – suffers a similar delusion and dies because of it, Norman fears he's cracking up. But he's not. His wife truly isn't what she seems and is hiding a horrifying secret.

"First Anniversary" is obviously a metaphor for a problem a lot of couples experience. Namely, that period when you've known your partner long enough to have seen all their bad habits. Despite your love for them, maybe you're annoyed by something small they frequently do. Maybe they make a weird noise when they chew or pick their nose or whatever. In other words, this is a sci-fi/horror escalation of what's commonly known as the end of the honeymoon period. Most of us, in these moments, realize our partners are human too and don't worry about it. But some relationships don't survive this revelation. "First Anniversary" blows up this idea into a husband suddenly finding all of his senses repulsed by his wife after a year of marriage. It's a good idea to turn into a horror story. "First Anniversary's" best moments is when Norman catches a glimpse of his wife in the shower and, for a split second, only sees a hideous, pulsating blob. Or when he hears her in the kitchen, making disgusting wet monster noises. Moments like these play like brief lapses in sanity, the kind of horrible but easily understood experience that horror can bloom from.

Unfortunately, this is the nineties' "Outer Limits," so there's not much room for subtlety. The metaphor is obvious and it goes hand-in-hand with some uncomfortable subtext. All the women in this episode are inhuman monsters trying to pull a trick on their husbands, before killing them. I think this is supposed to be an interrogation of sexism. Ady does love her husband, we find out. Running with the idea that there are secrets women keep that men can't understand is interesting. In execution, it looks like all women are part of a vast conspiracy to emasculate guys though. And it doesn't help that this is a pretty horny episode, featuring some pay-cable quality eroticism and exclusively casting model looking women in the roles. 

Another reason I checked this one is the cast. Matt Frewer plays Norman, with Clint Howard appearing as his best friend. Since "The Outer Limits" seemingly always ends up turning on the melodrama, the performances get quite campy before the end. I suppose that's to be expected of the otherwise decent Frewer and the typically mugging Howard. The creature effects are also better the less we see of them. Once the monster is seen clearly at the end, it's less creepy than catching a glimpse of a hairy, slimy hump. The script has to painfully explain what's going on before the end too, forcing this story solidly into the realm of sci-fi when it could've existed as dream-like horror instead. Despite the many reservations I had about "First Anniversary," the basic idea is still good enough. Combined with one or two effectively gross moments and it's still one of the more tolerable episodes of the nineties "Outer Limits" I've seen. [6/10]

The Addams Family: Progress and the Addams Family

The thirtieth episode of "The Addams Family" sees the spooky brood caught in the wheels of progress. The family's archenemy Arthur Henson is back, now functioning as the city commissioner. He plans to build a freeway through the town. Right through the Addams' living room, sending an eviction letter to the family and condemning their mansion. Gomez and the gang don't take this lightly, of course. When multiple attempts to convince Henson to change his mind don't quite connect, the family touches on a novel solution: Simply strap their home to the back of a truck and move it across town... Right next door to where Mr. Henson lives. 

Most episodes of "The Addams Family," in one way or another, match the family against the values and institutions of more traditional society. "Progress and the Addams Family" makes that an explicit confrontation. Once Henson threatens the family's home, the Addams go on the offensive. The running gag of Fester threatening to shoot people in the back returns. Lurch angrily grumbles at a demolitions worker and Thing shakes his fist/himself at another intruder. (Though from the way Morticia asks, you'd think he made a far ruder hand gesture.) However, the Addams prevail simply by sticking to their moral code. Henson isn't defeated with Gomez's circular legal knowledge. Instead, the Addams decide to be good neighbors and build their new home next to Henson's house. This horrifies him, naturally, and he changes his mind about the freeway. It displays the Addams Family's philosophy. They are unapologetically, uniquely themselves. They do not seek out confrontation and, instead, defeat naysayers by continuously refusing to capitulate. Those standing on less sturdy philosophical ground will eventually back down and the Addams will endure. It's a fascinating lesson to teach. 

Aside from exploring the family's credo, "Progress and the Addams Family" is simply a very funny episode that packs the gags in. There's lots of wacky fun here. Such as Granmama inventing two sticks that can produce thunder, Cleopatra being picky about her pork chops, and an amusing conversation about a judge's wig. The broadest and silliest gag involves the house being shipped across town, and the family preparing for that. (This is accomplished via some clever stock footage.) My favorite joke involves Gomez tearing up a letter, tossing it overhead, and the crumpled balls of paper simply vanishing. I also like a moment where Gomez, upon gazing at his wife, simply and sincerely announces his love for her. These two absolutely are the ideal couple! Good, silly fun and sharp social satire in its own way, "Progress..." is another highlight of the show's first season. [7/10]

Halloween 2023: October 8th

Talk To Me (2023)

One of the promises of YouTube is that it could make anyone into a filmmaker. A site where everyone can upload anything they can capture on a camera should've democratized the distribution world, right? Instead, the realm of YouTube curdled almost immediately into its own self-contained, venomous ecosystem. Most uploads go unnoticed in an ever-expanding sea of content, with the more successful creators forced to cater to an arbitrary algorithm and the whims of an attention-eroding media landscape. YouTube favors folks who talk about stuff and ruthless marketers, not so much individual artists. Yet, rarely, it happens. Twin brothers Danny and Michael Phillippou forged a following with their RackaRacka YouTube channel. While their meme-y prank videos didn't suggest much innovation, the brothers managed to segue their viral success into an actual movie deal. Their debut feature, "Talk to Me," would become the talk of this year's Sundance Film Festival. The tidal way of hype would lead to A24 scooping up the movie. The company put the supernatural horror film on theater screens world-wide this past summer, where the press immediately declared it the latest scariest movie ever. Time for me to be the judge of that. 

Set in the Phillippous' native Adelaide, "Talk to Me" follows teenager Mia. Still recovering from her mother's fatal overdose – which Mia believes was accidental – she has found solace with her best friend Jade's family, which includes little brother Riley and new boyfriend Daniel. While at a party, Mia is introduced to a strange artifact: A ceramic hand, which supposedly belonged to a medium, that can summons the spirits of the dead. All you have to do is grip it and say "talk to me" to make a spectre appear. An invitation of "Come into me" allows the ghost to inhabit your body and communicate with the living. Though risky, Mia and her friends treat the ritual like a game. Soon, Mia becomes obsessed with the process, believing she can communicate with her late mother. Yet malevolent entities wait on the other side and it's not long before Mia, Jade, and their loved ones are in horrible danger. 

Ultimately, “Talk to Me” revolves around a modern update of the century old tradition of spiritualism. Much like the seances trendy in the late 1890s and early 1900s, people gather around a table, light candles, perform simple rituals, and make the concept of contacting the dead into a party game. Considering they got their start on the internet, it's not surprising that the Philippous relate to how teenagers in 2023 would probably react to such an endeavor. Any time the hand is used to summon the spirits, everyone has their phones out. Recordings of people in the thralls of the dead circulate as viral videos. The opening sequence, which set-ups most of the misfortune soon to happen, plays out like a creepypasta passed around social media sites. The mediums of the past were all frauds, their supposed powers simple parlor tricks, but the enchanted hand in “Talk to Me” is totally for-real. In spite of that lack of skepticism, I still found this to be a clever update on an old idea. 

From the minute it was established that Mia is still recovering from the trauma of her mother's death, I kind of expected “Talk to Me” to be one of those “elevated” horror movies all about grief. While her inability to healthily process her mom's death is undeniably part of Mia's journey, the film has more on its mind than that. Her mother's death pushes her apart from her father. The horrible incident with the magical hand separates her from Jade and her family, before an ill-advised cuddle with Daniel further pushes Mia away from her best friend. In her loneliness, Mia keeps turning to the hand because it provides her with a sense of hope. It's a distinctly false form of hope too, the otherworldly spirits soon revealed as manipulative. Whether you read this as a direct metaphor for drug addiction or not, “Talk to Me” becomes an effecting portrayal of teenage isolation. Sophie Wilde's performance, fearless and wide-eyed, further makes Mia's descent seem like more than just typical adolescent angst. 

That Mia's journey feels so bleak goes a long way towards generating a proper atmosphere of dread. From the beginning, it's clear none of this is going to end well. The musical score is intense and the cinematography creates an unsettling ambiance. The Philippou's also know how to execute some genuinely shocking gore. A sequence of repeated head trauma is graphically disturbing, concluding with a visceral eye injury. That the violence seems so realistic, so reminiscent of actual gory accidents, makes the reprises of this moment equally effective. Once the malformed ghouls, and the hellish realm they inhabit, appear on-screen, that's well done too. It's clear these RackaRacka guys know their stuff when it comes to the horrific and the creepy. 

Yet sometimes one misstep is enough for a movie to totally loose a viewer. “Talk to Me” features a rather contrived event in its last third. The exact rules governing the malevolent spirits are fuzzy, which I'm used to with the horror genre. Somehow, such a series of events are orchestrated to leave Mia even more alone and traumatized as we head into the climax. It's the only time the film feels too clever for its own good, the story bending in such a way to catch the audience off-guard and not because it's a natural escalation of the plot. That left a bad taste in my mouth, putting me off a film that was otherwise a potent dose of dread and shock. Sometimes, you have to ask if a movie is telling a story in order to express something personal or if it's just fucking with the audience. 

Nevertheless, I do admire the craft on-display in “Talk to Me.” I clearly wasn't the only one, as the film made a healthy profit for A24. The Philippous are determined to make this their calling cards. They filmed a prequel, expanding on the opening act of violence that sets the story off, before “Talk to Me” even reached theaters. A sequel – with an admittedly amusing title – was quickly announced as well. I'm not sure how “Talk to Me” will translate to a franchise. I don't even know if it'll endure the way previous A24 genre efforts like “Hereditary” or “The Witch” have. Yet I do think it's a pretty darn good horror movie, one or two narrative leaps aside. [7/10]

Lost in New York (1989)

Perdues dans New York

Somehow, it's been eleven years since I first discovered the dreamy, sleazy, campy, and enchanting films of Jean Rollin. Rollin's cult following is founded upon the equally surreal, erotic, and comical vampire films he made in the seventies. Perhaps unsurprisingly, movies that straddle the line between the art house and the grindhouse were not always commercially successful. Rollin would spend many years directing hardcore pornography, just to pay the bills. By the end of the eighties, it really seemed like his best years as a filmmaker were behind him. That was when a chance to shoot in New York City prompted Rollin to return to many of the themes that defined his most beloved work. The resulting film, “Lost in New York,” only ran for 58 minutes and debuted on French TV. Unseen for years, it would eventually be rediscovered by Rollin scholars. 

Even by the standards of Rollin's films, “Lost in New York's” plot is vague. I'll do my best to sum it up. An old woman named Michelle recalls her childhood best friend, Marie. The two bonded over a wooden idol they called the Moon Goddesses. They used the statue to travel in and out of their favorite story books and films, as well as moving through time and space. As girls in their twenties, they both arrive in New York City. Marie and Michelle run through the streets of Manhattan, attempting to find one another and be reunited. The elderly Michelle reflects on these dreams and memories, while seemingly the living manifestation of their childhood goddess dances in the distance. And, because it's a Rollin movie, a cemetery and a vampire show up too.

All of Jean Rollin's movies have a certain dream-like quality to them. Yet “Lost in New York,” by dismissing with plot almost totally, truly captures the tone and pacing of a dream. The story exists in the past, present, and future simultaneously, the young heroines seemingly being unstuck in time and space. While Marie and Michelle's quest to be reunited is the main driving premise, other ideas intercede from time-to-time. Such as a woman on a roof top threatening Marie with a knife or the token appearance of a female vampire. This is much like how a dream will randomly digress. That two little French girls in the past would convince of New York City as a far-off, magical land is fitting as well. Considering movies are of-their-time historical records, “Lost in New York” becomes a travelogue of a New York that no longer exists as well.

Being a dream, “Lost in New York” is much concerned with imagination. As children, a story book transported the girls to other places. Yet, as the elderly Michelle describes these travels, she's actually describing movies. “Picnic at Hanging Rock,” “Modern Times,” and “Eyes Without a Face” are all name-dropped alongside several of Rollins' own films. Here, the director seems to be arguing for the transformative power of art, while also comparing movies to memories. Michelle is recollecting all of this, after all. The old woman longs to return to the childhood innocence of her friendship with Marie. In its final, touching moments, “Lost in New York” suggests that even death cannot truly separate us from those we love and that all lost bonds will be renewed on the other side. 

Such a distinctly nostalgic, self-reflective mood makes “Lost in New York” a deeply personal movie for Rollin. The director's films have always largely been variations on themes. Yet there's a sense of the finite to the way “Lost in New York” revisits Rollin's reoccuring motifs. The sisterly bonds between two young women seen in his films frequently hovered between the child-like and the sensual but here it's clarified as a longing to return to innocence. That immediately recognizable beach, with the legs of a rotted away dock extending from the water like teeth, reappears. So does the hunting vampire in a see-through nightgown, wandering through a blustery cemetery. To this litany of trademark imagery, “Lost in New York” adds another. The women wearing white masks is as immediate and gripping an image as any other the director put before cameras. 

As much as “Lost in New York” feels like a final statement by the director on his body work, it would not be his last movie. Rollins would actually make five more movies before his death in 2010, including several that touched upon the camp horror concepts that made him famous. “Lost in New York” belatedly brings Rollin's style into the eighties, with a slithering synth soundtrack, but still feels like a throwback to the groovy seventies. Especially when a comical sproing sound effect is used when the girls teleport across the globe, one last goofy joke in a film more concerned with putting a point on things. Recently, a restored version was released on Arrow's streaming service, really allowing “Lost in New York” to be rediscovered by Rollin's obsessives, where it has been properly evaluated as one of the most intriguing, beguiling, and important works of the director's career. [9/10]

Tales of the Unexpected: The Hitch-Hiker

If there's anything I've learned from horror movies and thriller stories, it's that picking up a hitchhiker is never a good idea. I'm not surprised that Roald Dahl, prolific writer that he was, put his own spin on this particular genre trope. Nor that such a story would be adapted for “Tales of the Unexpected.” “The Hitch-Hiker” begins with Paul, an American writer, traveling across Ireland in his new automobile. He picks up a hitchhiker, an eccentric fellow named Fish, who talks him into testing out the car's speed capabilities. When a highway patrolman pulls him over for speeding, Paul is none too pleased. Afterwards, Fish reveals that he's an exceptionally fast “fingersmith,” able to steal a man's belt off without him even noticing. And Paul's luck only gets worst from there.

As far as hitchhikers from anthology shows go, Fish here is more on the mischievous than the outright murderous side. Considering the setting and the seemingly magical slight-of-hand Fish displays, I can't help but wonder if he's not meant to be a leprechaun or other fairy being. (At least in a metaphorical sense, if not literally.) After all, he's able to snatch Paul's shoelaces off while he's driving. Much like you'd expect from such an impish spirit, Fish isn't done playing tricks on the man foolish enough to give him a ride. Since this is “Tales of the Unexpected,” the story ends in a twist ending that isn't exactly shocking though is a suitably ironic place to end things.

The episode is mostly a two-man show, with Rod Taylor as the driver and Cyril Cusack as the hitchhiker. Taylor makes an ideal straight man in this scenario, growing increasingly frustrated with the situation. Cusack, with his lilting Irish accent, is also ideally cast as the trickster. The way their conversation progresses, how he's able to subtly goad Paul into more and more bad decisions, is natural but diverting. As far as British television shows from the early eighties go, this one is well shot too. There's several crane shots over the highway which adds a nice cinematic quality. Maybe that's the unexpected part... [7/10]

The Munsters: The Fregosi Emerald / Zombo

“The Fregosi Emerald” starts with Marilyn's birthday party. Eddie gifts her a ring he found in the attic. Grandpa claims it is the cursed Fregosi Emerald. Marilyn's date that night goes horribly, suggesting the curse is real. Herman is skeptical, slipping the ring on himself and immediately having bad luck befall him. The ring is stuck to his finger, forcing Grandpa to find the sole descendant to the Fregosi family to remove the curse. In “Zombo,” Eddie has developed a fascination of the titular TV horror host. Herman is jealous of his son looking up to another monster, prompting him to extreme measures. When Eddie wins a contest to meet Zombo, he's disappointed that his hero is just an actor and not an actual ghoul.

Herman doubting the existence of a cursed ring feels like a stretch, considering everything else about him. “The Fregosi Emerald” starts off kind of slow, as far as these things go, with a lack of laughs in the first few minutes. “The Munsters” being the show that it is, more laughs are produced the broader things go. Lily's muffins exploding or Herman immediately having stuff fall on him the minute he slips on the ring is a good chuckle. Things get even wackier as the story progresses, eventually coming to involve a Transylvanian operator with  New York accent and a warlock posing as the head of an auto company. The final minutes are a nice expansion of the episode's central premise. 

If the amount of times I've heard it referenced is any indication, “Zombo” seems to be among the most popular episodes of “The Munsters.”  That's probably because the central premise – a real monster becomes jealous of a fake one on TV – is a novel use of the series' gimmick. “The Andy Griffith Show” couldn't do an episode like this! Also, Zombo seems to have a large budget for a horror host program. The make-up and haunted house set are fairly elaborate. Zombo also knows how to smash some monster-shaped crackers. As memorable as Zombo himself is, that's not the most entertaining thing about this episode. Herman trying to get his son's attention, being a massive man-child, or attempting to imitate Eddie's new idol are all good gags. The conclusion is sweet, as far as these things go, and seems like a fairly meta addressing of the show's younger viewers. [The Fregosi Emerald: 7/10 / Zombo: 7/10]

Halloween 2021: October 28th

The Lair of the White Worm (1988)

Bram Stoker is a writer in an interesting position. He is both one of the most influential writers in genre history while also, paradoxically, being a literary one-hit wonder. “Dracula” informs practically every vampire story that came afterwards, not to mention greatly influencing the entire gothic style of horror. It's also really the only thing Stoker ever wrote that most people have read. Most everything else non-”Dracula” related he's done has slipped into total obscurity. Which brings us to “The Lair of the White Worm.” Probably Stoker's most blatant attempt to emulate his one big hit, the novel is regarded by some as one of the worst books ever written. Yet it still ranks among Stoker's better known, non-”Dracula” works. Probably because Ken Russell, cult movie extraordinaire, loosely adapted it to film in 1988. 

In the Derbyshire countryside, there's the legend of the d'Ampton Worm. That's an enormous, white snake that vexed the land centuries ago, which was sliced in half by John d'Ampton. His descendant, James d'Ampton, still lives on an extensive manor on the same land. At a party, he meets Angus Flint, an archaeologist that has uncovered a strange skull on the neighboring land. He's living with two sisters, Eve and Mary, whose parents mysteriously vanished. That's because Lady Sylvia Marsh, d'Ampton's neighbor, is an immortal vampire-like monster that is wrecking havoc on the countryside. She worships Dionin, the ancient snake god that inspired the legend of the White Worm. Sylvia is determined to fully resurrected her god, eyeing Eve as her virgin sacrifice. 

Ken Russell thoroughly puts his own stamp on “The Lair of the White Worm.” He turns Stoker's novel into a story of the conflict between Christianity and paganism. Upon seeing a crucifix early in the film, Sylvia spews snake venom on it. She considers Christianity a modern usurper to her far older, far more powerful religion. And that religion is explicitly sexual and untamed. The snake is a phallic symbol, something the film is all too aware of. Sylvia is a vivacious female predator, openly sexual and happy to seduce and pray on any man she chooses. This stands in contrast to the innocent, chaste Eve and Mary and all the ideas about femininity that Christiandom encourages. Considering the film clearly connects the Worm and Sylvia with the Romans who were in Derbyshire before Christianity, you get the distinct impression that Russell is rooting for the giant, phallic snake monster and its worshiper. 

The link goes back further than that. A scene where the pointedly named Eve encounters the snake-like Lady Sylvia in a tree, while she wears an apple red leather suit, situations the Christian/Pagan rivalry as one that goes back to the beginning of time. This is far from the only on-the-nose visual symbolism Russell includes in the film. The huge white horn Sylvia wields in several scenes is a phallic symbol too, which becomes very literal in the finale. (And further connects Sylvia with the hermaphroditic wyrm.) The movie is dotted with snake-like images, whether its a hose uncoiling or Sylvia slithering out of a basket, as she's summoned by a snake-charmer's music. This is most clear in a wild dream sequence James has, where watching a pair of comely stewardess in thigh-high garters wrestle makes his pen rise. Russell uses the psychedelic effects of the snake venom to include a couple far-out visions. Such as trippy images of Roman centurions raping nuns, before a crucifix squeezed by a snake, or a series of perversely dancing, blue-skinned snake cultists. 

If all of this sounds thoroughly ridiculous, it is. Russell's movie has its (forked) tongue deliberately in cheek. The performances are delightfully campy. Hugh Grant takes his stuffy, upper-crust act to amusingly goofy levels. This heightened atmosphere even allows him to look kind of cool, when swinging an oversized sword around and reprising the legend of his ancestor. Peter Capaldi, as the archaeologist, ramps his Scottish accent up to almost indecipherable levels. Amanda Donahue, as Lady Sylvia, is an absolutely delightful villainess. She oozes sexuality in every frame, never appearing to be anything but confident and in-control of every situation. When seducing and destroying a horny boy scout, or teasing the mesmerized Eve, she's absolutely captivating. She slithers and smirks through all her scenes, absolutely commanding the screen. 

“Lair of the White Worm” was met with mixed reviews upon release. Russell's blending of camp, far-out visuals, and sexy horror has always rubbed lots of people the wrong way. Even Hugh Grant seemed unsure how to approach the movie, noting after it came out that he wasn't sure if it was supposed to be funny or scary. Yet, for those of us who can vibe with these kind of theatrics, “Lair of the White Worm” is a delightful experience. It would naturally become a cult classic. Russell creates a wacky, smart, and thoroughly entertaining concoction here, as hip and lively as the folk-rock song that plays several times over. [7/10]

The Grapes of Death (1978)

It was in 2012 – was that really nine years ago? –  when Netflix added a bunch of Jean Rollin movies to their streaming service. (Which was still a free add-on to their by-mail disc service at the time.)  This was finally the excuse I needed to expose myself to the films of this weird French director I often heard people talking about. I was immediately enchanted by the surreal, campy, sleazy sights I beheld. I reviewed a bunch of them at the time... Though one Rollin classic has escaped my grasp up until now. “The Grapes of Death” has been weirdly hard for me to get a hold up in all this time. Now, thanks to Kino Cult, it is finally streaming around the Halloween holiday. Time to check this one off my list.

In the rural French village of Roublès, a new type of pesticide is sprayed on the grapes at the vineyard. The wine made from these grapes – which is enjoyed at the wine festival the following weekend – turns everyone who drinks it into sore-covered zombies who act violently. Unaware of this, Elisabeth heads to Roublès via train to visit her boyfriend, Michel. On the train, an infected attacks her and kills her friend. Elisabeth flees into the countryside. The closer she gets to Roublès, the more people she meets who are infected. Soon, the entire town is consumed by madness. Elisabeth makes some friends – a blind woman, two hunters – who are willing to help her, as she tries to survive and find Michel. 

Almost every movie Jean Rollin made was a variation on a theme. The majority of his films feature often naked female vampires, friendships between women that seem more than platonic, tragic lovers, and visits to a beach with a distinctive rotten pier. People in clown make-up, walks through cemeteries, and twins are common reoccurring images too. “The Grapes of Death” had Rollin stepping outside of his comfort zone and doing a zombie movie. Yet it's still a distinctly Rollin-esque take on the genre. These zombies have diseased flesh and act on homicidal instinct. They still kill in mobs and spread their infection with violence. Yet they are also prone to asking for the sweet release of death. A tragic monster demanding an end to their suffering is another theme Rollin would revisit again and again throughout his career.

You can certainly spot some of the other Rollin trademarks in “The Grapes of Death.” Elisabeth's bond with the blind girl is a little familiar. And there's definitely some gratuitous nudity. Brigite Lahaie stripping her clothes off to prove she's not infected was a moment I definitely predicted. Yet “The Grapes of Death” still feels like a departure for the director. The plot is as loose as it ever is but the film is mostly grounded in reality, only hinting at the dream-like atmosphere that characterizes most of Rollin's work. There's also only a small amount of the campiness that usually keeps the director's work from being unbearably pretentious. A woman speaking nonchalantly about her face being horribly burned, before blowing herself up, is about it as far as unintentional laughs go. 

With less of the lyricism, eroticism, and goofiness that we crave from Rollin, what does “The Grapes of Death” have to offer? Not much, I'm afraid to say. There's little of the gory thrills we associate with the zombie genre here. A scene where a infected villager nails a girl to a wall, followed by a graphic decapitation, is fairly grisly. I can't help but read into the two farmers that come to Elisabeth's aide being beer drinkers, which is how they've avoided being infected, as some sort of social commentary. Especially since they have at least one long conversation about politics and how big business screws over the common farmer. I'm not sure there's much working class solidarity to be found in this otherwise. Until the ending, which attempts to be emotional, “The Grapes of Death” feels shapeless. And not in a fun way. 

Part of why I wanted to see “The Grapes of Death” for so long is because it's often regarded as one of Rollin's best movies. I guess this would be a good introduction to the director's work, since it's a little more accessible than “Rape of the Vampire" and the like.  At times, when the helpful farmers are shooting zombies and setting off dynamite, this even feels like an attempt to emulate George Romero's Living Dead series. (Or it would anyway, if it wasn't made a year before “Dawn of the Dead” came out.) Yet I think I prefer the sleazy weirdness of Rollin's vampire flicks, the dream logic of “The Naked Vampire” and the pure eroticism of “Fascination,” over this. [5/10]

Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989)

So when did Japan's reputation for producing egregiously wacky pop culture begin? Does it go back to Godzilla? Or “Speed Racer?” Obviously, plain ol' xenophobia plays a role in America's willingness to dismay an entire country's output as goofball insanity. At the same time, this reputation is not entirely undeserved. Those sixties kaiju movies are energetic and inventive in a way American films of the same breed and time simply were not. Similarly, Japan has produced some seriously bent cult classics over the decades, uniquely Japanese in their aesthetic and utterly bonkers in their content. Such as “Tetsuo: The Iron Man!” Arising out the Japanese cyberpunk/industrial/noise rock underground, “Tetsuo” would break out internationally in the early 1990s, quickly becoming a cult movie phenomenon worldwide.

A man known as the Metal Fetishist inserts rusty metal into his body. After one of his wounds become infested with maggots, he flees into the road. There, he is struck by a car, driven by an average Salaryman. The Salarayman's girlfriend is aroused by the crash, the two having sex near the Metal Fetishist's body. Afterwards, the man discovers a small metallic shard protruding from his face. This is the beginning of his transformation. Soon, the man is more scrap metal than human flesh, absorbing anything metallic he touches. The Metal Fetishist, still alive and similarly transformed, reappears. The two entities, each gifted with bizarre powers, wage war throughout Tokyo. 

“Tetsuo” is a cyberpunk classic but with the emphasis on the “punk.” A wild, untamed energy courses through the entire film. A pounding, propulsive industrial score powers the madness. Director Shinya Tsukamoto, who also plays the Metal Fetishist, provides an utterly unique visual sense. Tsukamoto utilizes his live actors in elaborate stop-motion sequences. On multiple occasions, the characters rocket down the streets in a jerky fashion, sometimes while propelled by actual rockets. This is inter-cut with lightning fast montages of the buildings around them. There are also manic, laughing faces and bursts of static-y television snow. The characters make machinery and metal twist, bend, and morph to the beat of the pounding, frantic soundtrack. The result is a movie with an incredible sense of energy and movement that feels simply like nothing else. (Not even “Eraserhead,” which is its most obvious predecessor.)

“Tetsuo” pairs its punk rock energy with a similarly unconventional approach to its narrative. The film is full of long digressions that have little to do with its story. Such as the Salaryman being chased through the subway station by a metal-infected woman. Sometimes, it seems the film takes place on multiple levels of reality. As the Metal Fetishist exists both in an alley way, where a stray derelict can attack him, as well as battling with the Salaryman across the slums of Tokyo. Yes, even “Testsuo's” plot construction is perverse... Which is fitting, as the movie is full of perverse sex and violence. The Salaryman has an erotic dream where his girlfriend becomes a demonic figure with a phallic, flexible metal tentacle growing from her crotch. Take a guess where the ends up going. But the Salaryman later pays her back, after he grows an enormous drill penis of his own. Bizarre desires, always involving twisted metal, is at the center of everything in “Tetsuo.”

What truly seals “Tetsuo's” punk rock ethos is not its shocking content or its propulsive energy. It's how homemade the movie feels. The special effects are cheap but inventive. The towering monstrosity of scrap metal seem to be made, I suspect, from a lot of aluminum foil. Most of the movie takes place in a handful of locations. The film was shot on grainy, black-and-white 16mm, which only adds to its underground feeling. Though clearly working with little money,  Tsukamoto create a number of truly unforgettable mutations. The Salaryman is covered with metal shards. In one memorable scene, an unlucky cat is absorbed into his growing mass. There's all sorts of intense body horror, as human limbs and skin are pierced and warped by the interceding bursts of scrap and steel. 

A movie as aggressively bizarre as “Tetsuo: The Iron Man” certainly invites multiple explanations. Considering the protagonist is identified as the Salaryman, that faceless peon of Japanese capitalism, makes one suspect “Tetsuo” is some metaphor for modern man's struggle with technology. Looking at it another way, when the Salaryman rejects the woman around him to eventually form a bizarre (and literal) union with the Metal Fetishist, maybe this is a movie about men rejecting the polite standards of society and embracing an alternative life style. Whatever the hell you think it is, “Tetsuo: The Iron Man” is absolutely enthralling cinema. Its insane visuals, sexual and violent and utterly creative, are still not quite like anything else I've ever seen.  Shinya Tsukamoto's utterly perverse embrace of kinky sex, industrial rock, and twisted metal created a heart-pounding cult experience that is impossible to resist. [9/10]

Elevated (1996)

Before kicking off this year's Blog-a-thon, I wrapped up a Director Report Card for Vincenzo Natali. Before making “Cube,” his debut film, Natali needed to convince backers that a movie set in one room could be compelling and cinematic. This was the purpose of “Elevated,” a horror short set almost entirely inside an elevator. Ellen and Ben ride an elevator inside an office building late at night. That's when Hank, a stranger covered in blood rushes inside. He insists the blood is not his own and that monsters have invaded the building. Ellen and Ben, naturally, don't believe him. A tense confrontation between the three, as they debate getting off the elevator and Hank tries to convince them it's not safe, ensues. 

There are pros and cons to “Elevated.” On the plus side, you can see Vincenzo Natali's strength as a filmmaker on display here. “Elevated” looks good for a nineteen minute short. The interior of the elevator never feels cramped or limiting. The camera moves freely inside, crash-zooming on the overhead escape hatch or spinning around the inhabitants. A center degree of tension is created by this scenario, as the viewer is left to wonder if Hank is crazy or if his story of monsters is true. (He says they look like a cross between “Alien” and “Pumpkinhead,” the kind of deliberate genre shout-out Natali would use more subtly in his future work.) The short also has a pretty good twist ending.

Yet “Elevated” doesn't work as well as “Cube” did for a big reason. No matter how much the prisoners in that film might've argued among themselves, you still liked them as characters. This is not true of “Elevated.” The cast members – which includes Natali regular David Hewlett, as Hank – spend most of the run time yelling and screaming at each other. The characters strike the viewers as largely unreasonable, as they begin to argue and threaten one another mere minutes after the tension rises. While Natali's later films used their limited locations smartly, “Elevated” feels like its run out of ideas after a striking scene where blood runs down the elevator's walls. Still, the director did accomplish some impressive tasks here, paving the way for his later, better work. [6/10]