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 2024: October 13th

Poison for the Fairies (1984)

Veneno para las hadas

In Latin American countries, witches do not exist solely as folkloric boogey-women and New Age practitioners. A mixture of folk medicine, folk magik, and spiritualism – with roots in indigenous, African, and Catholic beliefs – known as Brujería has survived in these areas for centuries, despite attempts by Christianization to stomp them out. This has led to the witch being an archetype with a deep resonance, leading to both sympathetic and villainous portrayals in Mexican and Central American pop culture over the years. Among the most acclaimed Mexican witch movies is Carlos Enrique Taboada's "Poison for the Fairies," which won the 1985 Ariel Award for Best Picture and Best Director. I was very impressed with Taboada's ghost story "Even the Wind is Afraid" last year, so it seemed natural to give this one a look during this season's attempt to broaden my knowledge of Mexican horror films. 

Flavia, the young daughter of rich parents, begins attending a new school in Mexico City. There she meets Verónica, a poorer girl who has been raised by her grandmother and nanny. Verónica is fascinated with witches and claims to be one, merely disguising herself as a little girl. The two form a tentative friendship, Flavia skeptical of Verónica's supernatural claims at first. After Verónica overhears a teacher is leaving, and passes it off as a magical prediction, Flavia is slowly convinced. The two girls perform a ritual to banish Flavia's strict piano teacher. After the woman dies of a stroke, Flavia becomes increasingly fearful of her new friend's "powers." Verónica uses this sway to manipulate and bully Flavia more, talking her into being allowed to come along on a family vacation to the countryside. There, the two girls go about gathering the ingredients for a poison potion – to use against fairies, the mythical nemeses of witches – but Verónica's cruelty towards Flavia soon reaches a boiling point.

The first scene in "Poison for the Fairies" depicts a bloody passage from a fairy tale, which sets up the film's carefully balanced tone. The flowery musical score, from Carlos Jiménez Mabarak, recalls a family film from the fifties or sixties. The vague time period the story is set in, with its vintage cars and antiquated fashion, makes the movie seem much older than 1984. This is paired with gorgeous, soft cinematography from Lupe Garcia. The girls are often depicted as figures in larger tableaus, such as when Flavia climbs to the top of a castle's ruins or when Veronica swings back and forth in a fantastically green forest clearing. Despite how much "Poison for the Fairies" resembles a nostalgic, rose-tinted view of childhood, this is certainly not a kids' movie. The parental figures in the girls' lives are generally warm and loving. The children, on the other hand, are depicted as the duplicitous and cold ones. 

In order to align the viewer totally with its youthful protagonists, "Poison for the Fairies" rarely shows an adult fully on-screen. We usually only see them from behind or above, glimpses of their hands or legs. This is not a story of the adult world. Instead, it is told through the eyes of children. That doesn't mean this world is free of fear. Notably, when a mature face does appear on-screen, it also occurs as a shock: The one-eyed glare of an old woman, the lifeless stare of a dead body, the weathered lines of an elderly groundskeeper. The film takes us directly into Flavia's dreams and nightmares, drawing parallels between a face in a casket or a doll sitting in its box. A fantastic dream sequence begins with a tree branch outside a window slowly shifting into a hand and ends with a mother's loving touch replaced with the talons of a cackling hag. Despite feeling a little bit like a vintage Disney movie, "Poison for the Fairies" never shies away from showing childhood as a terrifying time nor guards children against fear or danger.

One of the most chilling things about "Poison for the Fairies" is that Verónica is probably a little sociopath. The earliest sign we get of this is when the girl's nanny asks her if she misses her mother. Ana Patricia Rojo – with her golden blonde hair, expressive smile, the face of innocence – turns her head slightly, thinks for a minute, before bluntly saying "No." Watching as an adult, you can see when the little girl is spinning a yarn, as she lies and backtracks on her wild claims around her friend. Flavia sees it too but Verónica is also exceptionally good at manipulating her friend. When she keeps a key piece of information to herself or concocts a scheme to convince her that she's a witch, the effect is chilling. Not only because Rojo gives a great performance but because... Everybody knew a kid like Verónica growing up. After sneaking a snake into class, Verónica manages to convince the teacher that Flavia is at fault. The girl is hurt that her friend would take advantage of her like that but Verónica coolly explains that, well, she had to blame her. As the story progresses and Verónica gets her hooks into the other girl more, her manipulations grow crueler. She uses fear to "punish" her supposed friend for the pettiest reasons. Being treated so cruelly by someone claiming to care about you is a cross everyone has to bare and Lord knows it usually first happens in childhood. "Poison for the Fairies" centers itself in that all too familiar pain, in a depiction of someone trusting and naïve getting close to someone who has already learned how to trick, fool, and control for their own selfish needs.

Despite dealing extensively with the subject of witches, “Poison for the Fairies” is a grounded film. There's never any suggestion that Veronica actually has magical powers. All of her acts of witchery are either the result of trickery or coincidence. However, she certainly convinces Flavia her spells are real. During a ritual, she asks about why the candles are black and Veronica replies, simply, that's “how the devil likes them.” Flavia comes from a rationalist, atheist family. They don't prayer before bed and don't put up a nativity at Christmas. This contrast heavily with how easily Flavia is convinced in Veronica's conjuring though. That's the power of belief and ritual, all the talk of witches invading Flavia's dreams and subconscious. While in the countryside, the girls devote themselves to tracking down the ingredients for the potion. Common elements, snake skins and frog legs, are imbued with power simply because Verónica and Flavia believe that to be the case. The only time “Poison for the Fairies” seems to show a genuine supernatural event is at the very end, by which point Verónica's mean-spirited actions have more than made her a symbolic witch, if not a literal one. 

“Poison for the Fairies” has a hell of a finale too, generating a real sense of tension by constantly making the viewer wonder how far this situation will go. It's a good example of how strong the film's child actors are, Rojo and Elsa Maria both showing such a sense of depth despite their young ages. In much the same way Veronica can be seen as either a scheming villain and an ordinary little girl, the film somehow exists in the world of both daytime frivolity and nightly horrors. It's a rare work that captures the carefree joys of childhood and the vulnerability that comes with it, something the film does in the same scenes occasionally. That makes the film much truer to the fairy tales and folklore that obviously inspired it than many straight adaptations of these stories. (It also makes it an obvious influence on Guillermo del Toro. A scene where the girls are chastised for getting their dresses muddy likely inspired a similar moment in “Pan's Labyrinth.”) In other words, it's an accomplished and effective film, its status as a classic of Mexican cinema well secured. [9/10]

Isolation (2005)

They don't make monster movies the way they used to. I mean this almost literally. The rise of digital effects has truly robbed us of one of life's humblest joys: Watching underpaid actors scream and flee from rubber or latex abominations, dripping with slime and gore, played by either an elaborate puppet or a suffering stuntman in a sweltering suit. Creature feature used to be tactile, ya get what I'm sayin'? The big studios make everything in a computer and the little guys usually can't afford lots of practical effects. When something more in the vein of "Pumpkinhead" or "The Deadly Spawn" does make it into the wild, it's usually under most people's radars. "Isolation" was one of countless low budget horror flicks that Lionsgates shoveled onto DVD in the 2000s, with little promotion or press. The film hasn't been discussed much in the nineteen years since its release. At least outside the demographic of aging genre nerds with photographic memories who never forget a random title they read about in Fangoria nearly two decades ago. However, it's exactly the kind of old school rubber monster flick I happened to be looking for today. And, hey, it's Irish, meaning I can mark off another country on my cinematic trip around the world. 

In hopes of salvaging his faltering cattle farm, Dan Reilly has taken a deal with a shady biotech firm. They are performing strange test on the cows, to produce bovines that will grow faster and bigger. Jamie and Mary, an interracial couple on the run from her family, parked their van on the farmland, which Dan tolerates. That night, the experimented-upon cow begins to give birth. Dan recruits Jamie to help but the situation quickly goes awry. The calf dies shortly after being born... Strangely, however, the animal was born already pregnant. The fetuses inside it are twisted, bony monsters. And they are very alive. The strange offspring, which carry infectious properties, begins to squirm around the farm. Soon, Dan, Jamie, and Mary are fighting for their lives against these creatures. 

Much like Larry Fessenden's "No Telling" – a film it has a lot in common with – "Isolation" operates essentially as a grounded update of the mad scientist premise. Instead of using radiation or lightning to make its monsters, the creatures here are the result of biological engineering. Writer/director Billy O'Brien leans into this in a big way. The creature resembles, at first, a spinal cord that has sprung to life. These biopunk Tinglers get bigger and grislier as the film goes on, resembling a disturbing mesh of bones, sinews, blood, and oozing organs. Like Xenomorphs, they also burst out of the normal animals they grow inside of, burrowing into people eventually too. In other words, the film takes some familiar sci-fi/horror tropes and put a surprisingly fresh and grisly remix of them. Cinematographer Robbie Ryan keeps the monster largely in the shadow, so you're never entirely sure of what you are looking at. This further adds to the disorientating sense of "What the hell am I looking at?" you feel whenever the beast is on-screen. The special effects are entirely practical, making sure this aberration of science looks like a physical thing that's actually there. It's a lot scarier in execution than the logline of "mutated cow monster" sounds on paper. 

Aside from an effectively messed-up monster design and some clever special effects, "Isolation" is a well orchestrated little horror film in general. As you'd expect from the title, the movie plays up the emptiness of its setting. The Irish countryside comes across as especially desolate and dreary, always overcast. Seemingly every corner of the farm is dingy and dirty, the film building notable sequence around a slurry pit or a shallow bodies of water. The characters feel very alone, out there in the countryside. Once the monster is loose, the setting gets more cramped and claustrophobic, the characters chased under floorboards and into ventilation areas, sharp machinery near-by. The musical score is discordant and threatening but smartly deployed. There are many silent stretches which smartly build towards disturbing, sudden acts of violence. These are jump scares used smartly, paired with some effectively squirm-inducing gore effects. The bony creature slithering under a bedsheet or lunging at someone with a scream produce exactly the right reaction in the viewer. 

In other words, "Isolation" does everything right as a technical exercise, with a slow-burn first act that keeps escalating in intensity and craziness on the way to the bloody finale. The characters are kept simple, without any tedious back story, and the narrative rarely leaves the farm. As simple as the script can be, the movie clearly has some bigger ideas on its mind. Jamie is a Traveler, a racial underclass in Ireland, and Jamie being a black woman surely isn't a mistake either. Meanwhile, cows are treated in the film as disposable assets, instead of living things. A pneumatic hammer gun is used repeatedly on the animals and, when it's inevitably turned on a person, it's by a character that doesn't seem to value human life either. There's no concrete point here about the abuse of animals, industrialized farming, the cattle industry, or biotech capitalism. The quarantine subplot about the film is the most underdeveloped idea here. However, "Isolation" suggests a lot within its simple monster movie set-up. There's an undercurrent of technology pushing the natural world past it's breaking point and people, desperate simply to survive, caught in the crossfire. 

"Isolation" doesn't let its cast and characters get in the story's way. Ruth Negga and Essie Davis, a long time before "Loving" and "The Babadook," make for relatable and reasonable heroines. John Lynch, as Dan, has a nicely desperate quality to him. The result is a lean, mean creature thriller full of grimy, dismal atmosphere and a hell of an original monster. Sometimes, that's all a horror flick needs to be a hidden gem. O'Brien has done some notable work since, such as "I Am Not a Serial Killer," but the film did not launch him to the forefront of the industry. Which is a bit of a bummer, as "Isolation" is the kind of straight-to-the-point, grisly, and clever genre entertainment that so many people are in search of. And it's so extremely Irish top, with enough lilting accents and brogues to satisfy anyone who simply finds residents of the Emerald Isles fun to listen too. If you haven't seen this one, and you're on the lookout for a creatively nasty little monster-fest, definitely dig up "Isolation." [8/10]

Shockers: The Visitor

Two years back, I watched "Parents' Night," an episode of short-lived Channel 4 anthology, "Shockers." It was an unsettling hour of television and I've been wanting to get back to the series since. Probably the second best known episode of this largely overlooked series is "The Visitor," owing to it starring a young Daniel Craig. Craig plays a mysterious drifter who wanders into a swanky home. At first planning to rob the place, he quickly realizes the three residents there – Louise, Matt, and Terri – are expecting a new roommate that no one has previously met. Posing as "Richard," the man integrates himself into their lives. He seduces both Louise and Terri, though Louise is dating Matt. He also empties out Matt's bank account. When Louise pushes back against "Richard's" creepy behavior, he grows more possessive and unhinged. When the real Richard shows up, the imposter shows that murder isn't beyond him either. 

For fans of Craig, "The Visitor" is an especially fascinating watch. It can't help but play as an alternate universe version of Craig's James Bond, one who never had his violent instincts focused by the British government. "Richard" always thinks on his feet, grabbing any opportunity he can to benefit himself. We see this keenly when he kisses Terri, to distract her as he cleans up the last spot of evidence of the bloody crime he committed. His soulful blue eyes and charming demeanor makes it easy for him to seduce women. Ultimately, he's a sociopath, who manipulates people as easily as he breathes and truly only cares for himself. He also thinks nothing of springing towards violence, cold-bloodedly knocking off anyone who pisses him off or has something he wants. It's a chilling performance from Craig, who is one half emotionally unstable stalker and one half icy hitman. 

As with "Parents' Night," "The Visitor" shows that "Shockers" was determined to live up to its name. A slow burning tension characterizes the hour, as the audience inevitably waits for "Richard" to show his true nature. When that does happen, it's startlingly brutal. "The Visitor" is not especially bloody, most of the actual violence taking place off-screen. However, the way Craig beats a victim to death with a cast-iron skillet or smashes an arm in a door are presented in ways both furious and unflinchingly harsh. The visual style of the episode is sometimes a little irritating. The editing during a sex scene gets a bit frantic and the decision to repeat several key lines of vulgar dialogue is odd. "The Visitor" still approaches its violent content in a chilling manner, being totally grounded in its approach while also ratcheting up the suspense the way you'd expect from a good slasher pic or domestic thriller. (Two genres this episode resembles.) 

The gimmick of "Shockers" is that each episode was written by up-and-coming names. "The Visitor" comes from novelist and screenwriter Guy Burt, best known for "The Hole." While the story here is clearly influenced by films like "Shallow Grave" or "Single White Female," some deeper themes are established. Terri comes from a well-to-do family, the house essentially being something she inherited. Matt is a successful hedge fund manager, frequently bragging about his success, while Louise has the very bougie job of designing lay-outs for cook books.  We don't learn anything about "Richard's" backstory but his transient lifestyle suggests he's probably lived in poverty his whole life. When the real Richard shows up at the house, the imposter berates him that he doesn't know what it's like to have to work for anything he has. This gives this story of a smooth psycho blowing up some twenty-somethings' lives a class struggle subtext. While I wouldn't suggest Terri and Louise deserve anything that happens to them, it does bring an extra layer to this story of a lunatic sneaking in and taking over your life. While it doesn't have quite the level of disquieting impact that "Parents' Night" did, "The Visitor" is still surprisingly potent stuff. [8/10]

The Addams Family: The Winning of Morticia Addams

One of the most charming contributions to pop culture "The Addams Family" has made is Gomez and Morticia becoming accepted as the perfectly attuned couple everyone should aspire to be. This is challenged in "The Winning of Morticia Addams," when Fester reads an article that suggests the opposite may be true. A recent study suggests couples who fight more often are actually happier. Worried for their marriage, Fester and Granmama plot to engineer some discord in Morticia and Gomez's relationship. When these schemes fail, Fester reaches out to the article's author, Dr. Chalon, and invites him to the home. The doctor is immediately smitten with Morticia and attempts to seduce her. (Which she rebuffs, of course.) Upon hearing of this, Gomez challenges Chalon to a duel. The only problem is that Chalon is a celebrated fencer who has killed three previous men in duels. 

What makes Gomez and Mortica such an ideal couple is the innate understanding and infinite passion they have with each other. When Fester tells Gomez's Zen yogi guru that Morticia has demanded her husband quit the club, Drashi Dumo makes an angry house call. Gomez's reaction is, simply, if that's what his wife thinks, then it must be true. The two see Gomez's freed-up schedule as a chance to spend more time together. Always approaching your partner with an open mind and understanding, never doubting their commitment to you and vice versa, might be the secret to a happy marriage. Remaining utterly dedicated and enamored of them certainly doesn't hurt either. 

Challenging that bond without cooking up some bullshit drama between Gomez and Morticia, and violating the foundation of their love, must've been a tricky scenario to write. Bringing in a headstrong third party that tries to seduce Morticia is a good solution. It helps that Lee Bergere as Dr. Chalon makes a good foil for Gomez. He's a swarthy Frenchman who probably could charm a wife with a less rock solid devotion to her husband. Making sure Morticia roundly rejects his come-on makes sure that the dilemma that follows isn't either husband or wife's fault. All Morticia wants to do is prevent her beloved from getting killed, while Gomez's utter respect for his wife makes him outraged at Chalon's behavior and determined to correct it. 

In other words, it's a really good set-up for some jokes. Putting Fester in the situation where he has to roll back his plans, Gomez remaining oblivious to this, leads to some amusing interactions. (Though Fester's hope that his nephew will beat his wife is, uh, uncomfortable to say the least.) That Gomez strictly refuses to back down, despite Chalon's obvious superior fencing abilities, leads to some wonderfully goofy moments. In general, there's a lot of good gags here. Lurch standing in for the net during a basketball game or Chalon's response to Wednesday's Marie Antoine doll all got chuckles out of me. While "Progress and the Addams Family" probably would've made a better season finale, for how it escalates the central conflict of the series and brings back an old antagonist, this is an equally good note to take season one out on. [7/10]

As I've watched my way through season one of "The Addams Family," I've compared it a lot to "The Munsters." The two rival series touching on a lot of the same subjects made such comparisons difficult to avoid. It's still hard to say either sitcom is better than the other though. Herman and Grandpa's interactions were certainly funnier than anything Gomez and Fester did together. Mortica and Gomez are obviously the better, sweeter couple than the childish Herman and the sometimes shrewish Lily. It's tempting to say "The Munsters'" jokes were hokier than the "Addams'" but the truth is both shows are equally cheesy in their approach. The Addams may have a sharper social criticism built into their premise, not to mention sometimes edgier sight jokes. The Munsters' running gags, however, are simply a lot funnier to me than the Addams'. Both shows have the benefit of having great casts, pitch-perfect actors embodying archetypal characters that you immediately understand and deem likable. I think I do find 1313 Mockingbird Lane slightly more charming a home than 0001 Cemetery Drive, probably becomes the former emphasizes classic monster movie dustiness over the latter's opulent eccentricities. Thus far, Eddie has gotten a lot more to do than either Wednesday or Pugsley. (Though all the kids are adorable.) "The Munsters" only having four central members of the family, as opposed to the Addams' seven, might make it a little easier for the other show to write consistent premises. Nevertheless, I'd say both are equally silly, spooky fun. I've enjoyed watching season one of "The Addams Family" and look forward to hopefully picking up the show again next year. 

Halloween 2023: October 17th

Cube (2021)

Usually, when the news breaks that some beloved cult classic is getting remade, the seasoned genre fan comes to one of two conclusions. Usually, this is the work of some greedy producer, hoping to cash in on whatever name recognition the original movie might have to turn a quick buck. Alternatively, perhaps a big Hollywood studio is remaking a foreign language success in hopes of replicating that box office here at home. We were certainly inundated with (frequently mediocre) English language remakes of Asian films in the 2000s. Much rarer are overseas remakes of American movies. When it was announced that a Japanese remake of Vincenzo Natali's Canadian sci-fi/horror fave “Cube” was forthcoming, I was surprised and intrigued. It's not like “Cube” is exactly a hot property in the 2020s. Surely a Japanese filmmaker would only take a crack at this story if they had a unique take on it, right? 

Director Yasuhiko Shimizu and screenwriter Koji Tokuo hew fairly closely to Natali's original. This “Cube” also follows a group of strangers, who awaken inside a perfectly cube-shaped room. None has any memory of how they got there. They soon discover they can travel to other, similar looking rooms through hatches in the wall. Some rooms, however, contain deadly mechanical traps. The six individuals are Yuichi, an engineer; Shinji, a 31 year old NEET; Chiharu, a teenager with autism; Ide, a family man and mechanic; Ando, a corporate executive; and Askao, a mysterious woman. They work together to escape their prison, discovering obscure clues that help and hinder them on their voyage. 

My question of why a Japanese studio would decide to remake “Cube,” 26 years after it was originally made, remains unanswered. The fact that “Cube” was famously a frugal production, utilizing a small cast and one set redressed in different ways, was probably a factor. Shimizu's “Cube” follows more-or-less the same narrative as the original. There are direct parallels between the characters here and the 1997 cast. Many incidents reoccur. A boot is thrown from room to room, in hopes of triggering traps. One trap is discovered to be activated by sound. A prominent button appears, prime numbers are discovered in each hatch, and one of the ensemble goes insane by the end. Eventually, Shimizu does deviate from the source material, especially in regards to the main characters and their choices at the end. Yet, if you've seen the original, you will have a good idea of where this film is headed. 

The most interesting thing about foreign language remakes like this is seeing how the values and experiences of a different culture alter the story. In 2021's “Cube,” this is most reflected in the conflicts between the characters. As a high-ranking corporate executive, Ando dismisses the teenage Chiharu and the unemployed Shinji. While there is a class element to this dynamic, in the contrast between the CEO and the blue collar heroes, that's not the main thing Shimizu is on about here. Instead,  resentment between the old and the young drives much of the conflict. The younger people hate their elders because they have all the power. The older man hates the young because he thinks they're all slackers. The inability for one generation to relate to another, floats in and out of the script. 

That's interesting and, from my limited understanding of Japanese society, of particular concern to that country. However, Shimizu's “Cube” follows these ideas in the most disappointing way. Natali's “Cube” was beguiling precisely because of its ambiguity. The question of “how” and “why” remained unanswered, forcing the viewer to find other, fascinating interpretations of the situation. Tokuo's script keeps mum on how everyone came to be in the Cube and to what purpose. However, there's no ambiguity over what it's all supposed to mean. The theme of ageism and generational differences are blatantly pronounced by the characters. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that the main thematic issue is that of hope versus despair. Do the heroes succumb to the uselessness of the scenario and accept death or do they continue forward, striving to escape and survive, despite the odds being stacked against them? The viewer is really hit over the head with these ideas, smothering most any other reading of these events. 

While the original “Cube” had an extremely clever script that executed its intriguing premise in captivating ways, with multiple layers to the story, that's not the main reason it became such a cult classic. No, the main reason people loved “Cube” is because the characters were likable. They were relatable enough that you could easily put yourself in their shoes, while also being distinct, memorable individuals in their own right. The Japanese “Cube” has nothing like that. Instead of being an ensemble piece, Yuichi is the main character of “Cube.” He's recovering from the suicide of his younger brother, who was experiencing some sort of abuse. We know this because – breaking a cardinal rule of “Cube” – the remake features flashbacks to Yuichi's life and takes us outside the titular location. The focus on Yuichi is such that none of the other characters are expanded beyond mere archetypes. When someone goes nuts, it happens without much prompting. The sole female cast member is so vaguely defined as to basically not exist. It doesn't help that the cast is uniformly stiff and bland.

In other words, Shimizu's “Cube” copies most of the surface elements of Natali's original while missing much of what made it fascinating. While the central mystery is mostly maintained, with only a baffling final scene pointing towards any answers, the remake is overall a lot less subtle and intriguing than its inspiration. Even the gory death scenes aren't as good, with only the opening execution being all that memorable. Ironically, a lot of these same criticism can be held against middling American remakes of Japanese horror films. I guess it's only fair that the reverse finally happen too. It's a shame too, as I think there's a lot more room for expansion of the “Cube” universe than what we've seen in the lackluster sequels. This remake is similarly uninspired. [5/10]

Even the Wind is Afraid (1968)

When I think of Mexican horror, my brain still goes to low-budget attempts to replicate American monster movies that usually starred masked wrestlers. Even though filmmakers like Guillermo del Toro and Issa Lopez have elevated the critical standing of the country's genre output, my brain still goes to the Aztec Mummy, El Vampiro, Santo and the Blue Demon when I think of Mexican horror. Yet Mexican horror does have its auteurs. Chief among them is Carlos Enrique Taboada. In fact, Taboada seems to have made some of the most highly respected horror and suspense films within Mexico. He even won his country's equivalent of the Best Picture and Best Director Academy Awards for 1984's “Poison for the Fairies.” While that might've been a more logical place to start with Taboada, I always prefer to go back to the beginning. Taboada's first macabre motion picture was 1968's “Even the Wind is Afraid.” 

Claudia, a student at a secluded all-girls academy, is having visions of a girl hanging herself in a near-by tower. Her fears are dismissed as nightmares and the strong winds that blow at night. Claudia and five of her friends – including the boy-crazy Kitty and tattletale Josephine – investigate the tower themselves. Cruel headmistress Bernarda punishes all the girls, forcing them to stay at the school over spring break. Claudia sleepwalks towards the tower at night and sees the ghost of a girl her age. A sympathetic teacher, Miss Lucia, informs her that a girl named Andrea hanged herself in the tower after Bernarda forbid her from seeing her sick mother. While everyone denies that something supernatural is clearly going on, the spirit of Andrea continues to call to the girls and Claudia especially. 

It is fitting that the wind gets mentioned in “Hasta el viento tiene miedo's” title. From its opening minutes, we hear the wind howling outside the school's walls. This sets the tone for a chilly ghost story right away, which is exactly what unfolds. “Even the Wind is Afraid” pays tribute to the Gothic traditions. The ominous tower, which seems much larger and more desolate on the inside than out, is a classical setting. The image of the ghostly girl, with long hair obscuring her face and in a white gown, is similarly an archetypal visual. Yet “Even the Wind is Afraid” is far from a dusty, stale haunted house story. An unease inhabits the entire movie, which moves towards solid shocks when that hanged body appears suddenly. Or subtler chills, such as in a great scene where Lucia wanders out into the night, pursuing Andrea's ghost as the wind throws her back and forth.

While the motifs “Even the Wind is Afraid” touches on are classic, it still feels pretty modern for 1968. The movie really taps into the youthful energy of its teenage cast. Early on, the film establishes this conflict between the girls and the headmistresses. Kitty, Yvette, Silvia, and Marina are troublemakers. Kitty has a boyfriend she constantly lusts after and is later chastised for wearing a revealing nightgown. This characterizes the teenage girls as eager to express their sexuality, in a world that only wants them to conform to polite standards. The girls are constantly rebelling, in ways both small and large, against the authoritarian attitudes of the school. That the haunting was a girl struggling against the strict rules of her elders ties into this idea as well. 

It further helps that these characters feel so alive. The cast is quite good, each of the girls giving strong performances. Alicia Bonet and Norma Lazareno are especially appealing as Claudia and Kitty. The scenes of the girls hanging out, teasing each other or talking about boys, are so comfortable and naturalistic. Even the more minor girls, like Irma Castillon as Silvia, have a quirky vibe to them I like. “Even the Wind is Afraid” is also a good looking movie. The colors are bright and striking. The cinematography, from Agustin Jimenez, is excellent. A sequence where Kitten performs a playful striptease for her classmates – it's less sleazy than it sounds – is shot from a playful low angle, the dancing placed in the center of the frame. I also love a shot that pans across the girls' stunned faces after Claudio says something surprising. 

“Even the Wind is Afraid” kept me guessing, its premise continuing pass the point where most movies would have ended, heading towards a far more poetic and cathartic finale. Like the best ghost stories, this one has the viewer reflecting on the nature of this world and the one beyond as well as giving us a few choice chills. I'm not surprised to read that this is a beloved, and highly influential, cult classic in Mexico. For the most prominent example, del Toro's “The Devil's Backbone” clearly drew some inspiration from it. In conclusion, this Carlos Enrique Taboada guy knew what he was doing. I look forward to exploring his films more. [8/10]

Monsters: The Waiting Room

I've been using IMDb's Highest Rated episode feature to narrow down what anthology shows I'm watching this year. Among “Monsters'” highest rated episodes is “The Waiting Room.” (Which shouldn't be confused with another highly regarded installment of the series, “The Waiting Game.”) I'll admit, I picked this one specifically because it stars John Saxon. “The Waiting Room” concerns John, newly married to Catherine. John's dad, Benjamin, convinces his son to take his honeymoon in the same hotel him and his mother stayed in. Ben tags along and finds the hotel in much the same condition. After getting up in the middle of the night, John wanders into a dark room and is taken capture by a strange woman. Benjamin then explains to Catherine how, on his honeymoon, he encountered the same woman in the same strange room... 

“The Waiting Room” qualifies as one of “Monsters” more low-key episodes, relegating its bugbear of the week to its final minutes. Instead, this installment plays more like an old fable. The idea of a father leading his own son back to the same spot he had his honeymoon in, where the boy was conceived even, makes more sense in a medieval setting than a modern one. Yet the premise of a seemingly honorable man having one moment of infidelity that haunts him his entire life, rather literally in this case, is the exact sort of morality you expect from an old myth. The message here is clear: Guys, honor your wives and don't screw around, no matter how tempting the strange woman in the dark room might be. There's also a circular quality to the story, of returning to the same place and events repeating themselves, that seem archetypal to me.

As a half-hour of television, “The Waiting Room” is mostly effective because of its central performance. John Saxon, an actor more-than-capable of elevating schlock, plays Benjamin. The script is a bit awkward, how Catherine's newly acquired father-in-law immediately reveals his horrible secret, but Saxon's delivery of the regretful monologue sells it. Saxon achieves the exact balance here, of a man whose indiscretions are understandable but who you nevertheless kind of hate for his choices. Seeing him get his comeuppance is worthwhile. I do wish the story, especially the idea of the mysterious woman appearing in any dark room and her monstrous off-spring, where developed a little more. Not to mention John ends up being a periphery character. Yet this is still a mildly spooky half-hour of television. [7/10]

The Spider Will Kill You (1976)

Before directing cult favorites like “Tourist Trap” and the original “Puppet Master,” David Schmoeller made this half-hour short as his thesis film. “The Spider Will Kill You” follows an eccentric blind man, Jonathan, who lives in what appears to be an old theater. He's surrounded by mannequins, which seem to speak with his parents' voices. The man has an especially fraught relationship with his “mother,” who warns him of a trunk full of deadly spiders in his bedroom. While exploring the other rooms in the building, Jonathan discovers a female mannequin, which seemingly comes to life and says her name is Christina. He quickly falls in love with the living doll, bringing her back to his room. Yet just as he becomes devoted to Christina, she begins to torment him.

“The Spider Will Kill You” is a weird one. In many ways, it matches the stereotype of an artsy-fartsy student film by a budding filmmaker, eager to show off his talents. The premise presented here is obviously rift with symbolism. An opening monologue clarifies that Jonathan is blind due to being exposed to too much oxygen in an incubator as an infant. From the moment he came into this world, he's been trapped in dark places, mirroring his blindness. Yet the dusty, derelict building he lives in now also resembles a womb of sorts, becoming a comparison to his smothering, Norma Bates-like mother. The rotting building also reflects the protagonist's fractured mind. 

The exact meaning of the mannequins are harder to determine. Certainly, one can read into a man meeting a woman who is literally an object, that he then drags back to his home, declaring his love for her and that she's now his mate. Yet any statement of objectification is muddled by Christina being more of a femme fatale than a victim. Jonathan is such a doddering old weirdo that it's hard not to feel sorry for him. Perhaps his relationship, as it were, with Christina follows the same path of manipulation and control that his relationship with his mom did. In which case the odd, violent ending represents some freedom being achieved... Though that feels like an awfully upbeat reading, considering how dour the final images are.

All attempts to decipher its meaning aside, what did I think of “The Spider Will Kill You?” It's definitely kind of creepy! The copy available on Youtube is extremely dark and grainy, making the film a little difficult to follow at times. (Ted Nicolaou was the director-of-photography, by the way.) The acting is quite stilted, though in a way that contributes to the film's oddball atmosphere. It's good to see that “Tourist Trap” was not the beginning of Schmoeller mining the uncanny qualities of mannequins for scares. Indeed, the shots of dummies sitting in the dark and slowly turning their heads are probably the creepiest moments of the film. Ultimately, it's hard to get my brain around exactly what “The Spider Will Kill You” means, though I did appreciate its weirdo ambiance. Hopefully a better quality copy emerges some day. [6/10]