Halloween 2025: October 6th

Warlock: The Armageddon (1993)

I joke and say that the eighties is when one-off horror hits become on-going horror franchises. However, we have to examine if this is exactly true. It's not like “The Burning” or “Madman” spawned long-running series. In the late eighties and early nineties, however, a concentrated effort was made to transform fluke indie successes into video store empires. This is the time when suddenly the Angelas, Pumpkinhead, Pinhead, He Who Walks Behind the Rows, Xtro, some werewolves that howl, and whatever the “Witchcraft” movies are about had multiple titles to their names. Perhaps everyone was eager to fill the hole left in the public's heart after Jason and Freddy burned themselves out. Up next was the Warlock, whose first movie must've been a hit for TriMark. After directing “Waxwork II” and “Hellraiser III,” Anthony Hickox would be recruited to turn Julian Sands' stylish, sexually ambiguous, time-traveling he-witch into the next Michael Myers.

Sands' presence as a pretty boy demon-spawn with magical powers is, in fact, the only connecting fiber between “Warlock” and “Warlock: The Armageddon.” The second film instead focuses on an ancient druidic tribe who have sworn to stop the off-spring of Satan from bringing about the end of the world. In the modern day, only a handful of followers survive. Teenage lovers, Kenny and Samantha, are unaware of their destiny as the last in this bloodline. The six rune stones capable of summoning the Devil to Earth have been spread across the country. During a lunar eclipse, the foretold return of the Warlock arrives, reborn as a slimy monster before becoming a man again. He sets out on a road trip to gather the other stones. Kenny's father murders him before bringing him back to life, a necessary step to awaken his magical powers. His elders give him all of six days to train and master the ways of Druid magic before the Warlock arrives in town and attempts to summon his add.

While the first “Warlock” had a magical MacGuffin, in the form of the Grand Grimoire, this was merely an excuse to send our two lovable heroes and charismatic villain on a chase across the U.S. “The Armageddon” has a much sillier plot, far more concerned with ancient orders and magical plot devices to gather. A minute's examination reveals the mythology the semi-sequel invents as nothing but a pretense. “Warlock: The Armageddon” is actually about putting Sands' campy villain in multiple different locations. He's in these places for the next Chaos Emerald he must gather. More importantly, though, he kills another person in each location in some crazy manner. If Hickox's “Waxwork” movies were mostly an excuse for wildly different set-pieces to occur within the same story, he applies a similar approach to what the first “Warlock” built.

Hickox's ADHD-like style, always bouncing from one idea to the next, is certainly not without its charms. “The Armageddon” exists to be a showcase for two things. First off, Julian Sands gets to ham it up in a variety of places and against multiple partners. He enters the movie nude and screeching, already vamping. At one point, he starts spewing green blood before Frenching a mechanic and stealing his replica of the General Lee. Later, he picks up a street-walker strictly to have another person to banter with and then gorily off. Which he does, spectacularly. Those murder scenes are highly entertaining and each is brought to life with inventively gooey creature effects. A sequence where the Warlock uses his seemingly limited ability to stretch a human being's body into a piece of modern art is easily the high-light of the entire film. Though the bubbling map he makes of torn-off human flesh is cool too. Through it all, there's Sands delighting in being a floating, campy figure of chaos. 

Narrative coherence, thematic depth and characters with actual personalities have never been Hickox's strong suit. You can tell he had a lot of fun making “Warlock: The Armageddon” though. Gerry Lively's cinematography is colorful and frantic. A sequence set inside a roadside fun house is shot in psychedelic colors, featuring plenty of Raimi-ian camera movements, a distorted hall of mirrors, and some random rubber monsters. An earlier scene has Sands negotiating with a fashion designer atop a skyscraper that appears to be in Tim Burton's Gotham City. There are multiple shots adhered to people's faces as they fly backwards through the air in slow-motion. At one point, Sands – or his stunt double, more likely – leaps over the camera like he's in a kung-fu movie. There are multiple explosions and shoot-outs, sometimes with magical finger-guns. The art direction, production design, and visual composition have been stretched as far as possible to create a goofy, bloody, comic book-like tone of excess. 

And it is a lot of fun, don't get me a wrong. A little more substance perhaps wouldn't have hurt though. While the original had the heroes trying to beat the bad guy to the last Dragon Ball, “The Armageddon” lives the good guys weirdly stationary and puts the villain on the move. Chris Young's teenage hero never actually meets Sands until the showdown at the end. Attempts are made to make the subplot about the Druidic order more complex. The small tow's pastor – played by Bruce Glover, R.I.P. Crispin's dad – used to be a Druid but left when he couldn't bring himself to kill his daughter. Despite knowing she'll come back to life. Considering we all know Sands' Warlock is the star of the show, it all strikes the viewer as an unnecessary attempt to add some conflict and depth to the script's other half. Young isn't a bad lead. The conflict with his dad, played by Steve Kahan is mildly interesting, but all the business with the Druids is an obvious load of nonsense. It's simply there to prepare us for the inevitable showdown and to fill time between the Warlock tearing shit up. 

It is interesting that, despite its Abrahamic subtitle, “The Armageddon” casts Christian beliefs as impotent interlopers in the battle against evil. That the heroes are Druids, another branch of pre-Christian paganism, against the explicitly Satanic baddie surely says something about the spiritual mood in 1993. Perhaps it's another example of people seeking shelter in New Age corners after being failed by organized religion. Considering the movie also throws in runes, a Germanic thing, maybe the goofball script is simply a jumble of random semi-mystical ideas that were popular at the time. All of that aside, “Warlock: the Armageddon” is a fun piece of nineties monster movie hokum. It's a big step-down from the first but is still a suitably wild time. Creative direction, fun special effects, and an amusingly hammy leading man is sometimes all you need. [7/10]

It's Never Too Late to Mend (1937)

To fans of the early days of cinema, when sound was new and film was in black-and-white, a familiar set of faces are carved upon the face of the Mount Rushmore of Horror. Mostly, it's the same three names that Universal Studios largely build their iconic legacy of monster movies upon: Lugosi, Karloff, and the Chaneys. This is probably true for classic film fans all over the world. However, countries around the world occasionally would attempt, within their own Hollywoods, to build their own Karloffs or Lugosis. A good example is Tod Slaughter. Slaughter got his start on-stage, becoming popular for productions in the Elephant and Castle region of London. He headlined many plays, in roles like Sherlock Holmes and D'Artagnan, but Slaughter would truly excel at playing villains. His most popular roles were William Burke and Sweeney Todd, causing Slaughter to boast that he had committed “15 murders on-stage a day.” Eventually, an attempt would be made to translate Slaughter's stage success to the silver screen, playing a lot of the same roles on-screen. While there was a token attempt to sell Slaughter's films abroad, they never caught on much in America. Nevertheless, recent restorations and Blu-Ray releases have made his work ripe for rediscovery. Why not pick a film from England's home-grown classic horror star to represent that country on my cinematic trip around the world?

Like most of Slaughter's starring roles, “It's Never Too Late to Mend” is a hoary melodrama, set in Victorian London and based on a penny novel from that period. Slaughter plays Squire John Meadows, an openly corrupt justice-of-the-peace. He covets Susan, the daughter of a poor farmer named Merton. Susan, however, is in love with the virtuous George Fielding. Determined to deal with his romantic rival, Meadows cooks up a phony charge of poaching to get George sent off to prison. George's buddy, Tom, swaps places with him so he'll go to jail in his place and George will go off on a trip to Australia. He writes to Susan all the time but the Squire intercepts his letters, making sure she never receives them. Slowly, he conspires to take the girl for his own. What pushes “It's Never Too Late to Mend” into the horror genre is that Squire Meadows is also on the board of governors at the local prison. There, he gleefully enacts a number of cruel punishments on the in-mates, delighting in torturing them far beyond the boundaries of what could be called a “justice” system. 

If the above plot synopsis didn't make it abundantly clear, “It's Never Too Late to Mend” is about as stereotypical an old story of crime and punishment as you could possibly find. The characters are all exaggerated archetypes. Ian Colin's hero isn't merely a nice guy. He's as pure-hearted and good-natured as a human being as you could possibly imagine. Marjorie Taylor as Susan is such a perfectly virginal maiden as to have no other characteristics at all, existing as a symbol for the men in the story to conspire for. The story is full of improbable turns. Love triangles, mistaken identities, blackmail, and missing letters are all prominent plot points.  Naturally, much of this information is conveyed via shouted declarations by the characters. People falling to their knees, begging and pleading for one thing or another, is not an uncommon sight here. Naturally, this means “It's Never Too Late to Mend” ends with the villain explaining his evil plot in detail after being found out. Meanwhile, the moral of the story – summed up in the title – is mentioned as often as possible too. 

It is, to say the least, all rather hackneyed. Compared to the enormously atmospheric monster movies and thrillers that Universal cranked out in the twenties, thirties, and forties, the visual palette here is rather restrained. There's a cool tracking shot through an open door. A sequence in which a priest comforts a dying young boy in a jail cell, probably the movie's best, looks quite stylish. However, much of “It's Never Too Late to Mend” is rather beholden to its stage roots. There are many scenes of people standing around in rooms and talking. Music is not used that often, only being noticeable in a scene of Slaughter creeping around an empty bar. The sequences devoted to all that old English discipline will probably be of most interest to classic horror heads. A fifteen year old kid is locked in a steel bodice attached to a wall. Prisoners are dropped into a deep, dark hole for days on end. They are forced to turn heavy cranks endlessly. Seems to qualify as cruel and unusual punishment in my eyes, though it falls a bit short of “The Pit and the Pendulum” or the kind of shit Hjalmar Poelzig got up to in “The Black Cat.” 

Through its admittedly short runtime of seventy minutes, the audience's attention is mostly kept on “It's Never Too Late to Mend” thanks to Slaughter's elaborate overacting. He is the very image of a stereotypical Bad Guy here. He wears the black overcoat and top hat. He lurks and hunches and schemes. He does indeed have a mustache and, yes, it should go without saying, he does twirl the ends of it. If I didn't know better, I would assume these cliches originated with Slaughter, that's how much he embodies them. From the minute he appears on-screen, Slaughter's character is obviously, blatantly evil. He smirks with absolute wicked glee as he talks about whipping prisoners and confining them to a black hole. The ending of “It's Never Too Late to Mend” features Slaughter cackling with insane abandon. That was simply inevitable.

I had previously seen Slaughter's version of “Sweeney Todd.” However, that was a long enough time ago that I have little to no memory of it. Consulting my old review shows that Slaughter's acting was quite over-the-top in that too. It would seem to me that Slaughter's films simply weren't as artistically shot or memorably poetic as the American monster stars he followed in the path of. However, the guy could tear up the scenery. No doubt about that. “It's Never Too Late to Mend” will probably prove equally forgettable, distinguished once again by its star's theatrical vamping. I don't think I'll be picking up that box set of his movies but I did get enough out of this one to probably watch another Tod Slaughter pic somewhere further down the line. [6/10]

Alien: Earth: The Fly
 

Six hours in, “Alien: Earth” has abandoned all pretenses about its individual episodes having any sense of pacing at all. This show has simply become a game of watching the progress bar on its various plot threads load a little more. Wendy is slowly getting the hang of communicating with the xenomorph Prodigy has in captivity. Joe begins to plot out a scheme to help his sister escape the island. After Nibs' disturbing declaration that she was pregnant, the corporate brass talk the scientists into rebooting her memory to before the traumatic incident. The negotiations between Prodigy and Yutani fail, as no amount of billions sees Boy Kavalier willing to give up the aliens. Morrow continues to manipulate Slightly into allowing a warm body to meet a face-hugger. Isaac gets over-confident while dealing with the other alien specimens in the lab, leading to tragedy. A few of these wandering subplots meet up before the episode is over, tricking you into thinking all of this is going somewhere. 

One of the elements people complained very, very loudly about with “Prometheus” was that the characters acted in a “stupid” manner. That a scientist poking a weird alien snake thing or a panicked character not thinking to run in a different direction was an unrealistic way for some one to act in a strange situation. There are pros and cons to these arguments. However, considering how lab-tested so much of Disney's franchise extensions are these days to appease internet complainers, you'd think they would avoid people doing stupid shit in their “Alien” series. Instead, “The Fly” has a character wandering into a laboratory full of bizarre, deadly creatures and, through a series of unlikely mistakes, getting trapped in a containment unit with one of the monsters. Certainly, human beings assuming they are at the top of the food chain and underestimating the capabilities of other creatures is a reoccurring idea across the “Alien” films. The implication of this scene in “The Fly” is that Isaac is woefully overestimating his own skills and abilities. However, the number of leaps one must make to accept the reality of this scene playing out are... Excessive. 

The most pressing issue of all in “The Fly,” if not most of the episodes of “Alien: Earth,” has been if I actually cared about something happening to any of these characters. Wendy's outrage at Nibs having her memory edited to suit corporate needs is obviously a comment on how far trans-humanist concerns will inevitably conflict with technocratic goals. However, the script writers forgot to make the audience actually have any interest or investment in Nibs before beginning this development. Similarly, has Slightly ever had a purpose within this story line outside of being manipulated by Morrow? The advantage of television over film is that you have more time to flesh-out characters and explore their personalities. Instead, “Earth” having a large cast and multiple plot threads means everyone on this show is an idea that is simply stretched out as long as possible. 

If we are not interested in what happens to these people, why am I watching “Alien: Earth?” I'm watching because I talked myself into an non-existent contract to review each episode. However, ostensibly, I'm watching because I'm a fan of the freaky monsters and sci-fi setting of the “Alien” movies. In that case, “The Fly” is also a failure. The little baby xenomorph Wendy chatters with is in a few scene. There's a tiny bit of Facehugger action at the very end. Otherwise, the monster quota in this episode is provided by the mutant sheep glaring from behind glass and an oversized space-insect puking acidic enzymes into someone's face. That bothers me because it seems to show a lack of imagination central to this entire program. When the iconic monster of a horror film is already famous for the acidic components of its bodily fluids, why would you add another creature with skin-melting spew? I don't know, you guys. My capability to not feel increasingly annoyed with this show is running thin. That point-of-view shot of the space-fly buzzing around a room was kind of cool, I guess. [5/10]

Goosebumps: One Day at Horrorland
 

After directing Canadian horror films like “Funeral Home,” “Killer Party,” and “Blue Monkey” in the eighties, William Fruet would find steady work directing low-budget television shows filmed in the Great White North to save cash. That would include 27 episodes of “Goosebumps,” including the previously reviewed “Welcome to Dead House” and “Don't Look in the Basement.” Those were not complete dog-shit so I return to Fruet's work for my latest attempt to give “Goosebumps” a fair chance. “One Day at Horrorland” concerns the Morris family. A road trip to an amusement park called Zoo Gardens goes wrong when dad gets lost. Trapped in a car with no air conditioning, eldest child Lizzy and youngest child Luke are starting to get antsy. After being assaulted by fireballs on the road, the family begins seeing signs for an attraction called “Horrorland.” The kids beg to go, simply to get out of the car, and the parents reluctantly agree. The mostly abandoned park seems staffed entirely by horned monsters. The rides get the participants too close to real fear. When the family threatens to leave, they see a sign informing them that “No One Leaves Horrorland Alive.” The Morris brood is then ushered onto a soundscape, forced to participate in a game show run by more of these devilish ogres. 

I've written before about the potency of the idea of a carnival, amusement park, or circus being used as a setting for a horror story. The contrast between engineered but safe thrills with decidedly not-so-safe thrills is fertile ground. There's exactly two moments in “One Day at Horrorland” that touches on some of these ideas. Shortly after arriving at Horrorland, the kids spot what appears to be a costumed performer holding a decapitated human head. The head then speaks, informing them not to go on the guillotine ride. Hey, that's a mildly gruesome, almost morbidly funny moment! Meanwhile, at the end of the first half-hour – this was originally a two-part episode – the family are faced with a locked gate and a sign reading “No Exit.” Aside from being a Sartre shout-out in a kid's show, the idea of entering a seemingly innocent seeming park, only to learn that you are trapped there forever... That's a genuinely nightmarish idea, by which I mean I've often had nightmares of entering a building only to be unable to leave it. 

As is typical for “Goosebumps,” any potency “One Day at Horrorland” could have had is squandered by an excess of goofy bullshit and a total lack of any sense of danger. The cheapness of the program is unavoidable. All the Horrors are made up of two different types of green, horned, goblin masks. One is more expressive while the other is entirely still. The attractions that are supposedly so traumatizing to Lizzy and Luke do not strike me as especially intense. She is lead around a hall of mirrors that ends with her getting dropped through a trap door... To the outside of the fun house. The second ride is like a flume log lazy river ride, except in caskets. And that's entirely it! The game show sequence is mostly an excuse for half-assed jokes and bits. Such as an advertisement for a CD of monster-themed love songs. It seems to be building towards an actual grim climax, until a minor supporting character appears to save the family!

That is probably my biggest problem with “Goosebumps,” as an entire enterprise. The characters are ridiculously one-note and often obnoxious. Such as the obnoxiously stupid parents here or screeching little brother. However, the complete lack of any stakes to all these stories makes them essentially a series of scenes amounting to no meaning at all. Life or death is not necessary for a horror story to be effective. However, there has to be some reasons for this. When the Morris parents insist on participating with the monster-themed game show, because of the promise of a new car, that almost struck me as a commentary on greed. Instead, it simply because another phrase the script repeats over and over again. I know “Goosebumps” is a nostalgic favorite for some but I grew up with this show and these books too and I still think this shit blows ass. [4/10]

 

Halloween 2025: October 4th

Witchboard (2024)

Chuck Russell had a damn good run for a while. He got his start as a line producer on “The Hearse,” “Hell Night” and “Dreamscape” before making his directorial debut with what a lot of fans consider their favorite “A Nightmare on Elm Street” sequel. What followed was a beloved remake of a fifties classic, one of the movies that made Jim Carrey a superstar, probably the best of Arnold's late nineties flicks, and the first blockbuster starring the Rock. For reasons I've never found a satisfying explanation for, Russell took a fourteen year hiatus from feature film making. When he came back, it was with forgettable entries into the usually forgettable “geezer teaser” industry. While action movies had always been good to him, Russell had been plotting his proper return to the horror genre... With, of all things, a remake of “Witchboard.” The project was first announced back in 2017 and, through numerous starts and stops in production, Russell remained attached. He co-wrote the script too, so we can only assume he was genuinely passionate about remaking the eighties cult classic. After a long wait, the film finally came out last August. 

A botched robbery in a New Orleans museum ends with the thief dead in the woods with one stolen object: A 300 year old pendulum board, with which real witches used to contact otherworldly spirits. The board is found by Emily, while hunting for mushrooms in the forest. Her boyfriend, Christian, is preparing to open a fancy restaurants in the city's French district. At a party the night before the opening, Christian's ex Brooke puts in an appearance. She's into all that witchy shit and instantly recognizes the board for what it is, teaching Emily how to use it. Emily, a recovering addict, soon becomes hooked on talking to the board. She experiences bizarre visions of witchcraft and fiery executions. Meanwhile, bizarre deaths and the presence of feral cats begin to disrupt Christian's new business. He teams up with Brooke, to seek the advice of a local expert in the occult. Christian doesn't know it yet but his girlfriend is at the center of a revenge plot three centuries in the making to resurrect the witch Naga Soth.

As far as remakes go, this “Witchboard” is on the looser side. The scene where the spirits win the female protagonist over by helping her find a lost ring is about the only moment taken from the original. The decision to change your standard ouija board into a “pendulum board” – works on the same principal but with a witch's finger on a chain, instead of a planchette – shows the direction the film hopes to take the idea. Of the two words in the title, “witch” is emphasized over “board” in this telling. There are extensive flashbacks to medieval France, depicting the backstory of Naga Soth and the witch hunter obsessed with destroying her. The element of a cult devoted to fulfilling the witch's prophecy is included, bringing lots of decadent pagan ritual vibes to several scenes. The key presence of psychedelic mushrooms in one sequence cements what Russell and his gang where going for with this one. They wanted to get some modern day folk horror chocolate in Kevin Tenney's eighties possession/slasher movie peanut butter. It's an idea of debatable merit but, at the very least, setting the film in the New Orleans French District does give it a slightly more concrete connection to that old world setting. 

Considering the last horror movie Russell made twenty-five years ago and also bad, I had my doubts the director still had it in him for this one. This instinct was mostly correct but, every once in a while, 2024's “Witchboard” worked for me. The poltergeist-like activity of the original returns in a sequence where a little spilled gumbo and a sandwich slicer result in a surprisingly gory mishap. Another callback to the 1986 version involves Emily being abducted by spirits while in the shower. During this moment, and an earlier one where corpse-like hands reach out from her bed to grab her body, this “Witchboard” actually achieves that spook-a-blast feeling. Considering the obvious Raimi influence Tenney showed, incorporating that kind of chaotic, frenzied energy to scenes of supernatural menace isn't a bad idea. That scene with the poison mushroom has some serious flaws but, once the blood really starts to fly, I found myself enjoying it. The film needed more of that wacky, bloody sense of recklessness. 

Russell made extensive use of special effects in his eighties classics and nineties blockbusters. It is something of a trademark of his. That desire is still present in “Witchboard” but 2024's subpar digital effects do not have the charm of eighties rubber and latex. More than a few times, his “Witchboard” throws CGI spectres of screeching witches, demonic faces, or spring-loaded cats into the viewer's face. If the deployment of that last cliché sounds improbable, Russell actually builds several entire sequences around the evil kitties. One, in which a drug dealer falls from a rooftop onto a statue's up-lifted sword, is a good example of how the mediocre special effects drain some of the fun from the movie's ideas. The longer the film goes on, the more enamored it becomes of such digital trickery. Clouds of CGI green smoke, slow-mo dagger dives, or trippy distorted faces do not have the same appeal to them as Freddy's chest full of twitching souls or the bubbly tentacles of the government-engineered blob. 

Like far too many modern productions, what causes this “Witchboard” to droop the most is a script overburdened with backstory. As Christian and his friends are being introduced at that party, each one casually reveals their defining characteristic. Here's the jokey friend, the Caribbean one, the wiccan ex-girlfriend. The moment Emily is announced as a former junkie, you know that the witchboard is going to become her next addiction. Here's her former dealer, wandering randomly into the story to up the body count later on. No attempt is made to foster this connection with a deeper meaning. It's all mercenary plot construction, not an expression of a bigger idea. This is most evident in all the screen time focused on both the backstory of the witch and the man who cast her out of society. Adding some historical context to the idea of a “witch”board is nice and all, admitting that historical “witches” were usually persecuted women at the mercy of patriarchal systems. At the same time, the original didn't need fifteen minutes of flashbacks to make us understand that Malfeitor was a bad guy. It weights the movie down.

I went into the “Witchboard” remake with measured expectations, after the movie sat on a shelf for a bit and debuted to mixed reviews. I secretly hoped that Chuck Russell would make a strong come-back with this one. Alas, it is not the eighties anymore. Incorporating a more folkloric approach to the titular relic wasn't the worst idea. (Not to mention it helps distinguish the film from the officially licensed by Hasbro Ouija movies that have been made.) Occasionally, the remake comes close to making me crack a smile. Unfortunately, it is disappointingly short of spark, humor, and venom. The humble charms of the original are not much present in this largely overstuffed and far too technical a take. Russell shouldn't have left out the homoeroticism, wacky medium, axe murders, or hair metal theme song. That would've gone a long way to redeeming this one, a good idea executed in mostly juiceless fashion. [6/10]

Santo Vs. the Vampire Women (1962)

Santo contras las Mujeres Vampiro

I've never been a pro-wrestling watcher. I am, however, fascinated by the mythology of pro-wrestling, the idea that real men become larger than life characters within this ephemeral space where fantasy and reality blur. Nobody did this better than the golden age luchadores enmascarado, who often wore their distinctive masks in all facets of public life. When El Santo, the most popular and beloved of them all, began starring in movies in which he played himself, fighting monsters and supervillains, it further muddied the boundaries between the real man, the Superman-like do-gooder he played in the ring, and the mythic folk hero he had become in the public's mind. I know all of this without having seen any of the movies Santo starred in, because anybody who knows anything about Mexican film history knows this stuff. Of the 53 motion pictures El Santo appeared in, only four received stateside distribution, with most of them still unavailable with English subtitles today. The best known of Santo's starring roles is "Santo contras las Mujeres Vampiro." Released dubbed in the U.S. as "Samson Vs. the Vampire Women," the film was a common presence on late night creature feature shows and largely shaped the public perception of what Mexican horror movies are in this country. While most Mexican horror movies actually don't have masked wrestlers in them, "Santo Vs. the Vampire Women" remains an iconic film. Thankfully, the uncut, subtitled version is fairly accessible now. 

Zorina, the queen of the vampires, has awoken from 200 years of slumber. She calls upon Tundra, her craftiest vampire follower, to find a successor for her before she returns to Hell to marry Satan. Tundra targets Diana, the descender of the same woman she attempted to turn into a vampire centuries ago. Soon, the vampire woman is lurking outside Diana's window and calling to her. Diana's father, Dr. Orloff, is well aware of the family prophecy that vampires are after his daughter but is reluctant to tell her. (Especially not to ruin her recent, happy engagement to Jorge.) With no one else to turn to, he calls upon Santo, El Enmascarado de Plata, professional wrestling star, part-time superhero, and the last in a long line of masked monster hunters. Santo tries his best to protect Diana, fight off the vampiric henchmen Zorina sends after her, track down the bloodsuckers' lair, and still do his gigs in the squared circle.

From my previous viewings of “El vampiro” and “The Brainiac,” it was clear that the Universal Monster movies and Bava's “Black Sunday” were big influences on the look and feel of Mexican horror films in the sixties. “Santo Vs. the Vampire Women” adds a little Franco to the mix, by naming a character Dr. Orloff, but the focus clearly remains on replicating that classic horror ambiance. Almost the entire first ten minutes of this movie is set entirely within a dusty, shadowy, cobweb strewn crypt. All the shots of crickly-faced vampire women awakening in their coffins, rubber bats flapping through the darkness, or the shadow of a cartoonish devil cast huge on the wall is more than enough for me to love this one. “Santo Vs. the Vampire Women” never quite tops that mega-dose of monster movie flair again. (A shot of the normal looking vampire woman being reflected in a mirror in her monstrous form comes close though.) However, the film is still rich with that same creaky, cheesy, comforting atmosphere. 

The next ten minutes are devoted to establishing Diane, Dr. Orloff, and Jorge. These scenes are talky and kind of slow, in the same way the thirties Universal flicks were too. This crashes right into Dr. Orloff activating a secret monitor that puts him in direct contact with Santo, the kind of set-up Adam West's Batman would've approve of. From that point on, “Santo Vs. the Vampire Women” never stops having maximum fun bashing its action figures together. The brawny vampire henchmen sent to combat Santo run through the night, their hands holding their outstretched black capes, the exact same way a little kid would when playing pretend as a vampire. That child-like sense of glee is present thoughout, when a cop has to remind his fellow officers that Santo is a good guy or the masked wrestler leaps into his convertible. The lovingly rendered close-ups of the vampire women preparing to bite their prey is pure classic horror. When that gothic opulence contrasts against the inherent silliness of a grown man in tights and a mask, solving all his problems with punching and body slams, it creates the most beautiful kind of disconnect.

The nexus point between those two bizarre extremes arrives during a sequence when Santo's regular opponent in the ring has been replaced with one of the vampire servants. His deadly karate chops nearly defeat the mighty Santo before our hero manages to unmasks the fiend.. And reveals that he is a pro-wrestler werewolf! Yes, there is quite a lot of grappling in “Santo Vs. the Vampire Women.” At least two lengthy sequences are devoted entirely to watching a regular pro-wrestling match between Santo and whoever he's fighting that night. As somebody with little knowledge or grasp of wrasslin' as an artform, I can still appreciate the acrobatics of the leaps, slams, and leg-locks on display here. It's certainly not as much fun as the monster movie shenanigans or when the two worlds meet. However, the shots of crowds cheering and shouting for Santo – clearly meant to invoke similar reactions in theater going audiences – are infectious in their own way. 

Through it all, I couldn't help but notice an odd sort of meloncholey around Santo as a character. The love story is in-between Diana and Jorge. The tale of family is between Dr. Orloff and his daughter. Even the vampire women are a group, prowling together in their tombs. Santo is always alone. As the supporting characters embrace in the final scene, he drives off by himself. He defines himself as the last remaining member of a mythic bloodline earlier. Dr. Orloff notes that Santo's amazing skills do not gurantee that he'll succeed against the vampires. Unavoidably, the film paints him as a solitary figure, who lives only for wrestling and fighting evil. It's strange that a film as silly and cheesy as this one could stir such thoughts in me. Perhaps this is another sign that there is power in the most unexpected of images sometimes. In other words, “Santo Vs. The Vampire Women” is exactly my kind of thing. Classic monster movie vibes, camp, and culturally specific details combine to an oddly compelling B-movie. This is widely regarded as the best of the Santo films so I have no idea if any of the other ones are worth seeking out but I'm extremely curious now. [8/10]

Alien: Earth: Observation
 

The various subplots of “Alien: Earth” continue to roll along in episode four, “Observation.” Wendy is awoken from the strange coma she fell into at the end of the previous installment. It is soon discovered that she's learned how to speak the Xenomorphs' “language,” much to Boy Kavalier's amazement. Both Joe and Wendy desire to be kept together or to leave the island someday. Forces within the corporation naturally want to make sure this never happens. From outside the compound, Morrow continues to talk with Slightly, emotionally manipulating him into either procuring an egg for him or infesting someone with a Chestburster. The test continue on the eyeball parasite discovered at the crash site. Nibs, one of the other hybrid children, develops a sudden desire to become pregnant, confusing and frightening those overseeing her.

“Observation” makes a good case for the elements that annoy me the most about modern serialized television writing. Episode four sees the series reaching that inevitably point that all streaming shows reach sooner or later: Focusing an entire hour on a bunch of shit nobody cares about. The plot thread concerning Morrow worming his way into Slightly's brain obviously exists to lead to an inevitable containment break of the alien specimens. Kursh is also shown as being aware of their conversations, which will no doubt lead to more dramatic entanglements in three or so installments. The most eye-rollingly asinine of these dangling plot points is Nibs inexplicably developing baby fever. As two scenes are devoted to this subject, I could feel the sense of absolute indifference creeping into me. This is padding, plain and simple. It has no actual purpose in the story.

Far too many modern continuations of old franchises seem content to simply give fans what they want and provide no substance. “Alien: Romulus” was heavily guilty of this. On one hand, that makes “Earth's” various divergences from canon hypothetically interesting. What is this weird eyeball parasite that the Prodigy scientists are studying? The scene where it yanks out a sheep's eye and crawls into its skull is pretty gnarly. At the same time, this new extraterrestrial threat is not different enough from the Xenomorph to overcome the inevitable feeling of: When are they going to get to the alien hive? Why is the Alien not being given more to do in this series with “Alien” in the title? The scenes developing the Xenomorph's language is an actual example of building on previously established lore, as opposed to just tossing in some new stuff. I wish the episode focused more on that. 

I mostly found “Observation” to be tedious. You can almost feel the writers and show runners patting themselves on the back as they revisit the themes of motherhood and birth from the older “Alien” themes. Or in the repeated “Peter Pan” references. See, the overgrown man-child trillionaire never wants to grow up either! Once again, world-building is done not through naturalistic storytelling but through blatant exposition. There's another conversation about how the globe is broken up across five corporations. While the theme of corporate indifference to human suffering is another “Alien” Golden Oldie, it does lead to the one truly effective moment in the episode. When Joe insist that his sister is a human being, a cold representative of Prodigy reminds him that she is in fact corporate property. That's a more chilling reminder of how we will all be mere assets to the corporate oligarchs in the future. Needed more shit like that and less of Essie Davis trying to make an unhinged robo-adolescent understand that she can't be pregnant. [6/10]

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: The Tale of Apartment 214

Moving into a new apartment is an experience rich with potential for horror. There's the disorientating sensation of being uprooted from the familiar and the comfortable and being dropped into someplace alien and new. You are now surrounded by strangers, very close to you, that could be getting up to god knows what. Moreover, there's the lingering reminders that someone else once resided in this place you are trying to make your own now. Kids show schlock like “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” was aware of this too. “Tale of Apartment 214” follows Stacy, who is moving into a new apartment building with her single mom. Isolated and with no friends around, Stacy finds herself drawn to Madeline, the old woman who lives down the hall in Room 214. Madelyn informs her that her nephew abandoned on an important day, breaking a promise to never leave her alone. When Stacy goes to a concert with appropriate friend Angela instead, she finds Madelyn has abandoned 214. In fact, the old woman now appears to her as a threatening spectre, insisting that she “broke her promise.” Yes, Madeline is a ghost, haunting the apartment in which she lived and died after being left behind by those who swore to take care of her. And now that's Stacy's problem. 

Of the handful of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” episodes I've written about, several of them have been about a young person being doggedly pursue by some ghost or entity. Often, they repeat a threatening message each time they appear, to re-enforce the moral of the episode. “Tale of Apartment 214” does this with an otherwise unassuming little old lady, who repeatedly shouts about this pre-teen girl “breaking her promise” to her. It's very silly and not especially creepy at all. I know Hollywood seems convinced that old women are the most terrifying sight imaginable but Madeline here is no Aunt Gladys. The scene where she glowers in front of a stormy window, over-enunciating dialogue about the day she died, is an especially comical moment. This isn't an example of kid-friendly horror so much as it is horror that only works if you are a kid.

After the central idea has been set-up, that Stacy has offended this elderly ghost and she'll continue to haunt her, “Tale of Apartment 214” more-or-less goes on like that. I'm not saying the episode is entirely without merit. A sequence where Stacy holds up a painting Madeline made of the two of them together, before the old woman appears right behind it, might have been effective without such a belabored set-up. A pan around the apartment prominently features a mirror. Unsurprisingly, the old woman's form shows up there too. A kid, not so familiar with horror tropes, might get a thrill out of that one. Again, it's all undermined by a kindly old woman being the central threat. The last act confirms that this ghost is not dangerous, merely misunderstood, to hammer home some half-assed moral about making new friends. While grown-ass adults continue to assure me “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” is a quality program, most of what I've seen inevitably strikes me as strictly for the elementary school crowd. [5/10]

Halloween 2025: September 26th

 

Lost Souls (2000)

I'm glad that we, as a culture, decided to forgive Winona Ryder. Considering the vile acts male movie stars commit,  their careers intact afterwards, a little shop-lifting truly doesn't feel like a big deal. Hell, it's practically morally justified. As clear as that is in retrospect, the lovely Miss Ryder was truly having a downswing in her career at the turn of the millennium. What was supposed to be her big Oscar moment got overshadowed by another actress. She was the love interest in a lame Adam Sandler movie and a lame Richard Gere weepy. And then there was “Lost Souls.” It probably sounded like a solid career move, as the directorial debut of the cinematographer of “Schindler's List.” However, nobody seemed very enthusiastic about the script and the test screenings were disastrous. A wave of religious horror movies coming out in 1999 – all hoping to cash-in on Y2K Revelations anxiety – led to the film being shelved for over a year. It finally dropped in October of 2000... Opposite a re-release of the biggest Satanic Panic thriller ever. Almost as if the studio was intentionally trying to make sure nobody paid attention to this thing. By that point, Ryder was no longer contractually obligated to promote the film, adding to the stink of failure around the whole project. After that, “Lost Souls” was quickly forgotten by normal people. I am not a normal person, however, and promised to review the movie while talking about “Bless the Child” last year. Well, consider the prophecy fulfilled. 

As a teenager, Maya Larkin survived an exorcism, Father Lareaux driving a demon out of her body. Since then, she has become Lareaux's assistant whenever they are needed. The two arrive at a mental hospital, where an epileptic man and family annihilator has been obsessively writing down numbers. The exorcism is a failure, Father Lareaux left catatonic and the victim stuck in a coma. Maya decodes the man's writing and discovers the name Peter Kelson. That is a lawyer and writer famous for his true crime books on the nature of evil. Peter is having strange dreams and odd experiences. A priest attempts to kill him. Maya slips him an audio recording of the exorcism but Peter can't hear anything on it. The same recording pushes his elderly neighbor to suicide. After meeting Maya again, Peter becomes convinced that his life is the result of a Satanic conspiracy. At midnight, on his 33rd birthday, he will become possessed by the spirit of Satan himself. Maya sets out to stop this apocalyptic chain of events before it is too late.

"Lost Souls" is proof positive that gathering a bunch of talented people together is not enough to prevent the making of a stinky dog turd. The narrative's stakes are about as high as they can get, the good guys racing to stop the creation of the Antichrist before he can get the End Times rolling. Despite that, "Lost Souls" is utterly bereft of tension. The script flip-flops between Maya and Peter as protagonists, the indecisiveness stalling a sense of anticipation. The details of Peter's unholy origins are revealed during a dispassionate conversation, not as a traumatic flashback but as a list of names and events. His shock seems minimal. The movie quickly progresses past the revelation that everyone in the male lead's life has been part of a demonic cult determined to bring the Devil into his body. Most of the exorcisms take place off-screen and the arrival of Satan occurs in a literal blink of an eye. Supporting characters and subplots pop in and out, until they are dismissed. A good example of "Lost Souls'" complete unwillingness to generate any excitement is the climax. A Black Mass gathers to crown Peter as the Father of All Lies. A couple of people get shot and then the heroes escape during a scene transition, what would normally be the most important part of the story occurring completely off-screen. 

As far as I can tell, "Lost Souls" is like this because nobody involved wanted to make an actual horror movie. In one of the few interviews Winona gave concerning the film, she refers to it as "more of a supernatural thriller." Director Janusz Kamiński said the film was "not the most ideal project." After it received a rare F grade from Cinema Score, New Line ordered reshoots to make the movie "scarier." This suggests nobody was trying to make a scary movie in the first place. Reshoots like that almost never work, right? You can spot with ease where these new moments were inserted. Such as when Maya has a vision of a knife wielding maniac in a melting bathroom or a blurry sequence of a man's arms and legs cracking and twisting around. If that sounds like a bad cliche, it's far from the only one present. A true groaner of a moment involves a little girl whispering blasphemous statements, amid jerky editing and digital distortion. The only cliche I find more tiresome than that is attempts to emulate the head-bopping demons of "Jacob's Ladder." "Lost Souls" employs that one too, alongside heavy metal music video style glimpses of a screeching, twitching exorcism. 

"Lost Souls" being such a terminally dull experience is all the more frustrating because of the talent assembled. Based on his work with Spielberg, Julian Schnabel, and Vanilla Ice, Kamiński clearly has an eye for visuals. Mauro Fiore – who would eventually win an Oscar of his own for "Avatar" – is credited with cinematography here. "Lost Souls" received some positive notices for its photography but I don't personally see it. This is a gloomy, grey looking motion picture, overly fond of washed-out colors and dimly lit interiors. Reliable performers like John Hurt, Philip Baker Hall, and Elias Koteas are lined up for a selection of interchangeable supporting rows. It's always a joy to gaze into Winona's giant anime girl eyes but she spends the whole movie looking for some sort of emotion to latch onto. This mostly results in her staring ahead, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide with dull surprise. The character's sole defining trait is being a devout Catholic, her faith strictly being an informed and never displayed attribute. She shares zero chemistry with the bland Ben Chaplin as Peter. I think there's supposed to be some sort of romantic chemistry between the two characters but there's no sign of it. There's a mildly clever reveal concerning a hidden pentacle, a brief blip of surprise in an otherwise monotonous story. 

"Lost Souls" is easily the lamest of turn-of-the-millennium Satan movies. "End of Days" is low-tier Arnold but has one or two moments, a cool special effect or a memorable quote. "Bless the Child" is bad but in an occasionally funny, interesting way that reflects the bat-shit beliefs of its author. I don't remember anything about "Stigmata," so I guess I need to write about that one next September. Regardless, you could detect some degree of passion, no matter how misplaced, in those productions. "Lost Souls" is seemingly the result of bored artists showing up, punching a clock, getting a paycheck, and expending not an ounce of themselves in the process. The last scene is so blunt and anticlimactic, furthering the feeling that everybody merely wanted to get this done and move on with their lives. Which is what I shall proceed to do. In their quest to reclaim every studio horror flick of the nineties, and in-between re-issues of "Child's Play" and "The Thing," Scream Factory gave this one a spiffy Blu-Ray. Which did nothing to redeem its reputation. May these souls remain lost. [2/10]
 

Tilbury (1987)

It is a mythological concept that exists all throughout Scandinavia but is practically unknown elsewhere. A witch fashions a creation out of bones, stolen wool or hair, nail clippings, or wood shavings She hides it between her breasts and grows it with the wine she spits out when taking communion. It grows into a weird little creature that sneaks out at night, sucking the near-by cows dry. Once gorged on milk, it returns home and vomits up the stolen goods into a churn, the witch using it to make cursed butter. As a reward, the beastie is allowed to suckle from a secret nipple on the sorceress' inner thigh. In Sweden, it usually takes the form of a hare or cat and is called a bjära. The Norwegians imagine the beast as a living ball of wool known as a trollnøste. The Estonian kratt is made from household items and brought to life with blood but still steals for its master. Latvian witches had the pūķis, a small dragon that dragged home gold and grain. In Iceland, however, this particular creature is a gruesome looking worm-thing called a tilberi. In 1987, Icelandic filmmaker Viðar Víkingsson would direct an hour long television movie inspired by this same mythology. Severin would bring this “Tilbury” to its widest audience yet as part of its folk horror box set a few years back. 

The year is 1940 and the place is the Icelandic countryside. Auðun is a young man, a swimmer. He still harbors an attachment to his boyhood crush, Gudrún. After receiving news that he's been recruited into the war effort,  Gudrún's pastor father asks Auðun to check on her. Arriving at the British controlled military base,  Auðun discovers that the girl he knew has grown into a promiscuous young woman. She's carrying on an affair with a married British officer named Tilbury. The eccentric, impish man seems to have a strange sway over Gudrún. Auðun seemingly spies him sucking on her thigh and puking up green butter. As Auðun grows increasingly obsessed with his childhood friend, he becomes more and more convinced that her lover is a monster from Icelandic folklore. 

“Tilbury” begins with a short prologue, explaining the specifics of the folkloric creature its story revolves around. The sequence focuses closely on the witch's breasts, thighs, and her spitting out the sacrament. It brings a distinctly sexual nature to the ritual. When  Auðun spies the officer Tilbury with his lips on his crush's thigh, it is similarly provocative. Especially when these meetings are done in secret places or under tables, leaving slimy residue behind. It's a shock to the boy to see the girl he likes being so wantonly sexual with a creepy little pervert. The more we see of Auðun's childhood recollections, however, the less wholesome they seem. He repeatedly revisits the image of the young girls teasing him by kicking their legs over his head as they're on swings. Is he looking up their skirts or laying down under them in preparation for...? Well, when paired with the tilberi's acts of suckling and vomiting – his lover and creator being the same figure, that he calls “Mommy” – it all starts to feel very kinky. Auðun's resentment of Officer Tilbury is clearly based in jealousy. At the same time, it starts to feel like he equally resents him and Gudrún for being willing to express their sexuality in an open, wanton way. 

“Tilbury” is probably most easily read as a film about sexual repression, a tightly wound young man suffering the culture shock of a more modern, sexually liberated couple. At the same time, there are more international concerns on Víkingsson's mind. The British presence in Iceland is shown as something of an unnatural intrusion, the foul-mouthed Brits often bullying and harassing Auðun. It makes him an outsider in his own country. Chocolate bars are made from the tilberi's green butter. Later on, the film connects this with crass corporate capitalism coming to Iceland, furthering the feeling that the supernatural threat represents the corrosive effects of American excess. Among the soldiers is another swimmer who gets imprisoned for possibly being a Nazi. He obviously sucks but he's also the first person to correctly identify Tilbury as a monster. Which makes me wonder what the hell the filmmaker meant by several Menorahs being present when the villain goes fully demonic. Needless to say, there's something deeper being hinted at here and I don't think it's antisemitic? 

While certain elements of “Tilbury” left me uncertain of how to feel, I still enjoyed it a lot. In general, the film has a delightfully light surreal touch to it. When we are greeted to bizarre sights – like our hero stepping from a swimming pool into a sauce that is also a military watch tower – you're left wondering if you're watching a dream sequence or a reflection of objective reality. The most delightful mixture of these elements occurs during a stylish shot dance sequence, the protagonist's anxieties playing out as a musical number. This is furthered with the bizarre sights we're shown, most of which involve the tilberi's very antisocial behavior. The amount of green butter puke in this movie pushes it into the realm of gross-out comedy at times, which I mean as a compliment. Karl Ágúst Úlfsson has such an uncomfortable greasiness to him in the eponymous role, that you totally believe he's a milk-sucking goblin. The special effects are extremely lo-fi yet the persistently off-beat tone the movie cultivates makes that work.

That might be my primary disappointment with “Tilbury.” Most of the oral tradition and folk art about tilberi depict them as grotesque worm-like creatures. The replicas on display at the Icelandic Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft recall lengths of intestines, pre-mature fetuses, and massive globs of belly button lint. The creature in the movie, meanwhile, is mostly depicted as a human being with some impish features. Not that I'd expect a low-budget television film to truly have the money and resources to depict a creature that weird anyway. Mostly, it makes me wish that we had way more movies about this particular monsters, to allow for more cinematic interpretations of them. This “Tilbury” is still cool though, an oddly funny and funnily odd tale of witchcraft, sexual hang-ups, World War II, and globs of green butter. [7/10]

 

Faerie Tale Theater: The Boy Who Left Home to Find Out About the Shivers

Presumably following the logic that people spend money on their kids, premium cable channels in the eighties produced a surprising amount of kids' show. In September of 1982, Showtime would begin broadcasting “Faerie Tale Theatre.” Produced and hosted by the fittingly whimsical Shelley Duvall, the series often featured A-list celebrities as guest stars. (And sometimes had high profile names behind the camera too, with Francis Ford Coppola and Tim Burton directing two episodes.) Usually, this was in-service of doing wacky and comical retellings of the most well-known Grimm's fairy tales. Occasionally, however, the show would present a more obscure story. Such as “The Boy Who Left Home to Find Out About the Shivers,” based on the even more awkwardly entitled “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was.” As you might have guessed from the title, this was essentially the program's Halloween special, presenting a tone a bit more ghoulish than your standard modernized take on a fairy tale. 

That means it's still less gruesome than the original text, which might be the origin of the hoary horror cliché of spending the night in a haunted house to win a monetary prize. The titular character is Martin, the son of a superstitious carpenter. The boy has never experienced fear, not because he's exceptionally brave but because he's too dim-witted to know better. The boy is sent to ring the church bell at night, a set-up for a prank by the local deacon. This only results in the man getting his leg broken, leading to Martin being kicked out of his father's home. He eventually wanders towards an inn in the land of Transylvania. King Vladimir, the ruler of this land, is staying there with his daughter, Princess Amanda. That's because the castle is so beset by ghosts that nobody is willing to live there. The king makes Martin the same offer he's presented to several lads before him: If he can last three nights in the haunted castle without dying or being scared off, he will win riches and the princess' hand. Martin agrees to the task, despite having no use for money, because he hopes he'll finally be frightened for the first time in his life. However, the boy's cluelessness once again makes him difficult to startled, no matter how many spectres and zombies appear before him. 

The cast list for any given episode of “Faerie Tale Theatre” sometimes feels like if every part in a “Saturday Night Live” sketch was played by a celebrity guest hosts. A not-especially boy-ish thirty year old Peter MacNicol plays the title “boy.” Christopher Lee is King Vlad, explicitly identified as the son of Vlad the Impaler. David Warner is the innkeeper. Vincent Price is the narrator. Most randomly of all, Frank Zappa plays the king's hunchbacked assistant. And would you believe that Zappa gives the funniest performance? He never speaks and instead silently performs physical gags, like smashing a window when asked to let in some fresh air or rubbing a stolen apple on his arm pit. Lee mostly plays it straight, with just a bit more goofiness in his usual style. MacNicol is playing a very silly character but otherwise does it straight, playing a character whose exceptional courage actually extends from a genuine inability to process when he's in danger. 

Despite the Hollywood cast and quite detailed sets, “Faerie Tale Theatre” was still somewhat shot like a “Muppet Show” segment. The camera work is largely stationary. The digital effects are exceedingly cheesy. The writing still feels a little like a comedy sketch stretched to a full hour. Which is not to say I didn't enjoy “The Boy Who Left Hoe to Find Out About the Shivers.” Anytime the episode commits to capturing a non-threatening but suitably spooky haunted house ambiance, it's a ton of fun. The old castle setting looks like a bitchin' small time amusement park fun house. Set pieces involving a pendulum swinging into place or a revolving door feel right out of a classic “Abbott & Costello Meet the Monsters” flick. There's a pretty cool looking Grim Reaper and blinking gargoyle. The highlight of the episode is clearly a sequence where a horde of zombie-like spirits emerge, eventually playing a game of ten pins with skulls and femurs. That sounds like a great party to me! The finale features Christopher Lee shooting some extremely unconvincing laser beams out of his hands, before the punchline of the entire enterprise – the only thing that scares the boy without fear is the thought of getting married, hey-oooooo – arrives right when you expect. I would've absolutely been obsessed with this if I had seen it as a kid. [7/10]

 

The Addams Family: Cat Addams

We haven't seen Kitty Kat, the Addams' pet lion, in a while but the writers haven't forgotten about them. “Cat Addams” is kicked off when Grandmama notices that the feline is acting lethargic and not eating. Gomez quickly comes to the conclusion that Kitty Kat is not sick but rather lonely. The Addams decide to hide out on safari and seek out the help of the family witch doctor, Dr. Mbogo, in locating a mate for Kitty Kat. Unfortunately, this does not work, as Kitty's dad apparently ate Mbojo's dad. Instead, the family calls up a veterinarian called Dr. Gunderson. Gunderson arrives for a house call, assuming he is helping out a regular house cat. When he's terrified by the lion, Gomez and Morticia assumes that the guy is just suffering from a lack fo confidence. They enact a scheme to boost the terrified vet's self-esteem. 

Like “The Great Treasure Hunt” before it, this is another episode of “The Addams Family” that starts off pursuing a plot point far outside the budgetary limits of a sixties sitcom. The idea of Gomez and the gang going on safari and trying to pair Kitty Kat up with a girlfriend would probably be a lot of fun... Sadly, this show couldn't afford to have real actors in the same room with an actual lion. The brief moment where Dr. Gunderson has to interact with the lion is achieved by having stock footage of a lion – clearly not the same one that usually depicts Kitty – awkwardly inserted into the Addams' basement. The producers couldn't even afford to show Dr. Mbogo in his hut, instead using brief reused footage from his first appearance in “Uncle Fester's Illness.”

Instead, the majority of “Cat Addams” is about guest star Marty Ingels as Dr. Gunderson reacting with terror and bafflement to the Addams' antics. Yes, it's yet another episode like that. My familiarity with Mr. Ingels' work only extends to his voice work in crappy old Hanna-Barbera cartoons like “The Grape Ape Show” and “Pac-Man.” (He previously did another sitcom with John Astin.) If I had to guess, I would assume that playing over-the-top cowards like this was part of his regular shtick. Regardless, he does make for an amusing presence. The back-and-forth he has with Cousin Itt and an illness feigning Fester does make for an honest chuckle or two. This episode is also notable for Lurch appearing instantly when summoned, the butler producing a Tsetsee fly right from his jacket, and Astin and Carolyn Jones giving each other some crazy bedroom eyes during one sequence. Pretty standard stuff but, hey, I like it. [7/10]