Halloween 2024: September 7th

Longlegs (2024)

Probably helped out by being the son of Norman Bates, Oz Perkins has quickly established a specific brand for himself as a genre filmmaker. "The Blackcoat's Daughter" and "I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House" were high on eerie ambiance, isolation, and precise set design. Perkins finally combined that with a compelling narrative and characters with interior lives in "Gretel & Hansel," the first of his films I actually loved. This got me excited for his next feature, "Longlegs," especially once I read that it starred Nicolas Cage as a serial killer. Largely thanks to an effectively creepy marketing campaign, distributor NEON built up a good degree of hype for the film this past July and made it a surprise hit. This is atop some hyperbolic reviews that called the film the scariest to appear in quite a while. Now that the dust has settled, what's my takeaway on this one? 

FBI agent Lee Harker displays ambiguous clairvoyant powers during a manhunt. This causes Supervisor Carter to assign her to the bureau's most baffling case. Since the sixties, there have been a string of incidents where a father would massacre his family before killing himself. At the scene of the crime, an encoded letter signed by "Longlegs" is left, despite no signs of forced entry. Lee studies the evidence and quickly connects the cases, each murder occurring near the 9th birthday of each family's daughter. Further investigation reveals occult symbolism in this pattern, with Harker and Carter uncovering a strange doll patterned after the family's daughter at one of the crime scenes. The deeper into the case Lee goes, the closer she comes to encountering the strange man behind the killings, his otherworldly motivations, and the personal connection she has to these events. 

From a technical perspective, there's a lot to admire about "Longlegs." Once again, Perkins engineers an unsettling atmosphere of quiet dread from the opening frame onward. This is largely accomplished by a sound design full of slowly mounting discordant noise, that constantly leaves the audience on-edge. That's actually a plot point, as a mysterious silver orb that generates ominous whispering appears in several scenes. This is paired with a visual perspective that emphasizes stillness, distance, and isolation. Characters often appear as obscured figures in painting-like landscapes, surrounded by shadows, snow, or stray streaks of light. (Frequently via eye-like windows, symmetrically placed as if on a face.) Flashbacks are always framed in tight, Academy ratio, making them appear even more like broadcast from nightmares. That constant stillness is often broken up by assaultive bursts. This may be through sudden acts of graphic violence, a reveal of a grotesque rotting corpse, or red-tinged visions flashing on-screen.

In other words, many of the ingredients for a successfully distressing horror film are present here. And "Longlegs" certainly is creepy, often overwhelming the viewer into a state of discomfort through its visual and aural suggestions. However, as a narrative experience and piece of cinematic art, I found the film to be frustrating. Like Perkins' first two features, the movie takes a vague approach to its own story. We don't learn Longlegs' modus operandi until twenty minutes or so before the end. The mechanics of how the killer operates are fairly simple, by the standard of fictional occult serial killers/black magicians. The script takes a needlessly roundabout way to revealing this, bogging its story down in ritualistic symbols, algorithms, and codes that the protagonist must unravel. Certain elements are left largely vague – such as the nature of Lee's apparent psychic powers – while other parts are explained via lengthy expositonary scenes. All of this combines with glacial pacing, heavy on long silences and meaningful glares. "Longlegs" is paced like a nightmare, it's true. This means it is unsettling and that it is composed of two hours that feel like four.

The film approaching its own material in such a deliberately  evasive manner makes it difficult for the viewer to get a grip on its intentions. The witchcraft element, of Longlegs being an unrepentant Satanist, never quite gels with me. Considering the movie is also set during the nineties – established via that old trick of prominently placing a photo of the then-president in as many shots as possible – it feels like an unironic invoking of the Satanic Panic that never once stops to consider the cultural baggage of that phenomenon. Giving the killer the Zodiac-like gimmick of leaving encoded messages at the crime scene adds a puzzle-like structure, frustrated by the murderer's identity being flatly revealed when he gives himself up to the FBI without a fight. He builds creepy dolls but the movie isn't about creepy dolls, that element merely being more unsettling set dressing on a fairly straightforward story. The specific patterns and rituals of Longlegs' actions suggest he's trying to achieve some ultimate goal, furthered by the cryptic things he says, but that's never revealed. And why does he call himself Longlegs anyway? What the fuck does that mean? Perhaps making us ask "why" is exactly the point but piling your movie up with symbols that never seem to have a meaning results in meaningless symbols. 

A snippet from an interview where Perkins admits that the film was inspired by his own mother – Tony's longtime beard Berry Berenson, who died in the September 11th attacks – is the closest Rosetta Stone I can find to unravelling "Longlegs." The birthdays of daughters is the reoccurring thread that connects all of the killer's victims. The glimpses we get of Lee's mother, which increase throughout the film, hint at a smothering, emotionally manipulative relationship. When one of the family slaughters occur on-screen in the last act, it feels all the world like a domestic incident performed by an abusive, short-tempered dad. Despite his outwardly effeminate features, Longlegs himself operates as something like a twisted absentee father figure to Lee, as this distant image from her past that sends her letters every once in a while. I guess that means his chosen nickname is short for Daddy Longlegs? As if there's any doubt of this persistent subtext, the killer's favorite music seems to be seventies glam rock, a very Dad-ish genre. None of these ideas seem to convalesce into a coherent meaning to me, acting instead as undercurrents that operate as part of the film's dream logic, connecting some of its twists and turns. 

For Nicolas Cage fans, the film is certainly worth seeing. Cage, glimpsed only in quick flashes or from a distance for the first half, wears a disturbing make-up that makes him look like the cross between a porcelain doll, Tiny Tim, and a plastic surgery addict. He shrieks, winces, twitches, dances, and babbles in a falsetto in a way that only Cage could do and make equally unnerving and hilarious. Maika Monroe, as Lee, is charmingly weird as a woman so hyper-focused on her obsessions and socially awkward that she reads as on-the-spectrum. I would've liked to have gotten more peeks at her inner life. Blair Underwood makes a compelling straight man to the story's weird events, as her supervisor. Alicia Witt, as Lee's mother, probably does the best job of giving her character a complicated inner life, as we learn more about her past.

I guess the kind of emotional coldness that Perkins specializes in is hard for me to jive with. The film's standout sequences of gory special effects are effective. The swallowing atmosphere of dread engineered throughout is impressive. The cast, cinematographer, sound designer, and production artists all do excellent work. However, "Longlegs" so intentionally denying us any insight into its characters, their motives, or the events that starts these dominos falling makes it hard for me to truly connect with the movie. Maybe Perkins' next gig, a mainstream Stephen King adaptation, will work better for me. Maybe this is a filmmaker who needs to place his ideas within a recognizable story structure, like a fairy tale or a Kingian ghost story, for me to link to his work. Because I came away from "Longlegs" admiring it more as a technical achievement than as a piece of storytelling. [7/10]

Shock (1946)

Vincent Price never set out to become best known for playing villains, much less primarily associated with the horror genre. If you look at his early parts, it's mostly handsome leading man roles and supporting characters in various noirs. That all changed with "Shock," a little, noir-tinged psycho thriller that turned a modest profit for Fox in 1946. This proved that audiences most liked to see the actor playing sinister ne'er-do-wells, setting him on the road towards horror stardom. Price never had much positive to say about the movie. In Victoria Price's biography on her dad, she said he derisively referred to the movie as "Schlock." Yet I had never seen it before and decided now was the time to check it out.

While awaiting her prisoner-of-war husband's return home, Janet nervously sits in a hotel room. From the window, she sees a man bludgeon his wife to death with a candle stick. The shock of this sight leaves Janet in a catatonic state. Her husband calls for the doctor staying in the hotel, Dr. Cross... Who happens to be the murderous man Janet saw. Quickly figuring out what happened, Cross has Janet committed to his clinic. Conspiring with his nurse, who is also his mistress, Cross tries to get Janet to forget what she saw. When she starts to directly accuse the doctor of murder, Cross plots to get rid of the sole witness to his crime for good. 

"Shock" is another entry in the long line of films about duplicitous men trying to convince women they are crazy, in order to cover up their own crimes. Considering it came out only two years after George Cukor's "Gaslight," "Shock" was probably directly inspired by it. That term has since passed into common usage, to describe any time a man tries to make a woman doubt her own perception. The film ups the manipulation level by having the gaslighting man be the woman's doctor, giving him even more power over her. Unfortunately, and strangely, "Shock" downplays Janet's role in the story that should have been her's. Anabel Shaw – doe-eyed, good at panicking, fourth billed – spends most of the movie laying in bed, half unconscious. Instead of focusing on the fear and doubt she must feel, trying to convince everyone that she didn't imagine seeing a murder, "Shock" devotes far more scenes to Dr. Cross and Elaine plotting and working to throw doubt on their own role in the murder. This is frustrating, when a more compelling story is right there within the movie, waiting to be explored. 

Instead, this really is Price's movie. Unlike the campy bad guy roles he'd later become famous for, Vincent mostly underplays it here. There's a moment when someone suggests that Dr. Cross might have had some role in what Janet saw and you can see the sense of panic briefly crosses Price's face. His great talent for saying one thing but clearly feeling another is apparent during a tense meeting with a detective. Despite being a murderer, "Shock" weirdly plays Cross as a sympathetic character. He talks about coming clean multiple times, clearly feeling conflicted about his actions. It's Lynn Bari as Elaine, the scheming Lady MacBeth/femme fatale, that continuously pushes him towards more wicked actions. This points towards "Shock's" less-than-stellar politics, that repeatedly center the men in a story about a woman's plight. That marks this film as truly a product of 1946. As a fan of Vincent Price, seeing a more nuanced, layered take on the type of murdering, bitter husbands he would play many other times is quite interesting. 

If it isn't obvious by now, "Shock" definitely resides more on the noir side of the horror/noir divide. However, there are some moments here to interest fans of the macabre, outside of Price's presence. Early on, Janet has an eerie, misty nightmare where she runs towards a door that keeps bigger and further away. There's a key sequence where a thunderstorm rages outside the mental institution. A disturbed patient escapes, sneaks downstairs, and attacks Elaine in Janet's room. It's definitely the most stylishly directed episode in the film, with some extremely good use of shadows and clever shot composition. In general, "Shock" gets a little more macabre and hysterical as it goes on, even if it never nudges into full-on horror. Director Alfred L. Werk also made "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" and "A-Haunting We Will Go," so he had some experience with horror-adjacent projects.  

"Shock" is in the public domain, so many low quality copies of the film circulate around all over the place. (Often paired with that other Price-starring public domain favorite, "House on Haunted Hill.") Luckily, a nice restored edition was put out on disc as part of Fox's Classic Noir Collection, so you can find a decent looking print of the movie with minimal effort. By no means a classic – and barely qualifying for a marathon of creepy movies – "Shock" is definitely still worth seeking out for Vincent Price fans. You can see the beginning of his style as an actor formulating here while losing out on none of the star presence that made him such an irresistible presence in so many films. Add in some nifty cinematography and it gets a recommendation from me. [7/10]

Creepshow: George Romero in 3D/Baby Teeth

It seems “Creepshow,” or maybe Greg Nicotero specifically, has to pay homage to its forefathers at least once a season. The required referential episode arrives with “George Romero in 3D.” Sarah's brick-and-motor book store is failing, amid pressure from their asshole landlord. That's when her horror nerd son, Martin, discovers a crate containing unpublished comic books written by George Romero. Such priceless collectables could save the business but Martin has to put on the 3-D glasses contained within the comics... Which causes the zombies from within the pages to leap into reality. And they're only visible with the glasses on. Luckily, the pages also contain a facsimile of George Romero himself, who is willing to help the kid.

As far as “Creepshow's” overly meta episodes go, “George Romero in 3D” is less suffocatingly smug than “Skeletons in the Closet” and stands alone better than “Night of the Living Late Show.” The monster kid hero, played by Graham Verchere, is mildly likable and resists dropping a movie title every five minutes. (Though his name, Martin, is one of several obvious Romero homages here.) The central gimmick, the zombies being invisible unless you look at them through the 3D glasses, leads to some interesting gore sequences. The zombies themselves are, like classical Romero ghouls, more intelligent than your average shambler too, allowing the threat level to increase as the episode goes along. Sebastian Kroon plays Romero, as an avuncular but humble figure that peppers his sentence with outdated slang. I also like the “Take On Me” style animation placed over top him. It is kind of weird that they chose comics as the medium here, which Romero didn't work in until much later in his career. What if the kids had found the script for “Diamond Dead” instead? 

“Baby Teeth” begins with teenager Shelby getting her wisdom teeth pulled, the latest in a long line of signifiers that she's growing up. This greatly upsets her clinging, needy mother, Miranda. Miranda demands to keep the extracted teeth in a special box with all of Shelby's baby teeth, part of a life-long belief in the Tooth Fairy. In fact, Miranda's whole house is filled with superstitious iconography: Iron nails sewn into clothes, horse shoes over doorways. Miranda has been a believer in the fair folk her whole life, convinced her mother was taken away by fairies when she was a girl. As part of her teenage rebellion, Shelby rejects these beliefs and smashes the box holding her teeth. This unleashes the spirits her mother has been trying to keep at bay her whole life.

“Baby Teeth” is based in an anxiety most anyone can relate to. Every kid grows up and comes into conflict with their parents. Every parent has to accept that their offspring isn't their little baby anymore. Miranda, played by a nicely neurotic Rochelle Greenwood, is sympathetic as it becomes clear how much of her anxious personality has been molded by a life of loss and abandonment. Her obsessive clinginess is also rightfully off-putting. This makes us feel bad for Shelby, allowing her bratty, rebellious teenager shenanigans to be more tolerable. The way the script slowly reveals the folkloric aspect of its premise are well done. A folk horror spin on the Tooth Fairy is one I'm surprise I haven't seen before. The episode also features probably the gooiest, grossest monster of “Creepshow's” fourth season. Like too many of this season's episodes, it fumbles the ending. This is another “Creepshow” installment that proves John Harrison is probably this series' most consistent director. [George Romero in 3-D: 6/10 / Baby Teeth: 7/10]

Chucky: Panic Room

Having ripped President Collins' eyes out and stolen his access card, “Panic Room” sees Chucky going after the big ones: Nuclear weapons. Warren Pryce replaces the President with a double, as part of a massive cover-up that deeply disturbs the First Lady. (Who is still seeing ghost around the White House.) The fake president and Henry are soon being held at gunpoint by an aging, homicidal doll. On the same day, Lexy manages to talk Grant into letting her, Devon, and Jake come to the White House. They reveal the truth about why they are there, Lexy determined to find out where her sister is before Charles Lee Ray shuffles off this mortal coil forever. It all ends with a tense confrontation in the Situation Room. 

Earlier, I said I hoped season three of “Chucky” would take the White House cover-up angle in increasingly wacky directions. I'm glad to say this has come to pass. When Pryce brings in a look-a-like to play the now deceased President, he reveals that this is not an altogether uncommon experience. That intelligence agencies perform all sorts of operations to insure the government remains running smoothly. Yes, this show is arguing for the existence of the Deep State. (Pryce also says supernatural events are discreetly handled by the government all the time too, so it's also arguing for the existence of the X-Files.) But “Chucky” being a smart-ass comedy, it quickly reveals the presidential doppelganger to be a nerdy, socially awkward actor type just happy to have this chance. That allows Devon Sawa to get some of the biggest laughs he's had over his three years on this show. 

When it was announced that “Chucky: Season Three” would head to Washington, my first thought is that the doll would eventually try and get his tiny, plastic hands on some nukes. “Panic Room” runs with this idea, devoting its second half to Chucky trying to spend his last hours alive starting World War III and becoming the most prolific serial killer in history. I suppose it's natural that the tight, metallic interior of the Situation Room would lead to a rise in tension. As NORAD prepares to launch WMDs, the episode actually gets suspenseful. Knowing how crazy “Chucky” is willing to get, I truly wondered how far they'd take things. Amusingly, the smart-ass doll picks an unexpected third target... I won't spoil things but it leads to easily the best punchline this season has given us yet.

Needless to say: Decrepit, dying Chucky is all out of fucks to give. While this could've seen Brad Dourif take the character in a more nihilistic direction, he remains a sarcastic little bastard up until the end. Watching this pint-sized rubber psycho threaten people and makes quips about pizza cutters, gun safety, and his mother remains delightful to me. No matter how goofy Chucky's one-liners get, the show never undersells what a threat he remains. As he slams a pen into a secret service agent's skull, describing what parts of the brain he is severing, it's a testament to the amount of genuinely sinister energy this absurd character have been gifted over the years. Around the time this episode aired, it was announced that Brad Dourif was retiring from acting. That retirement doesn't extend to any future “Chucky” projects, “Panic Room” still feels like a tribute to the great actor. 

While this episode features plenty of great killer doll action, it does spend a lot of time on the subplots. God help me, I think I'm actually invested in these characters now. Charlotte being increasingly freaked-out by the paranormal activity in the Oval Office allows Lara Jean Chorostecki to do some fine acting. She's got an excellent pair of crazy eyes, I'm now noticing. While Grant is probably the least exciting new character this season, there's a scene here between him and Lexy – where they sit at a piano and sing “Don't Fear the Reaper” – that is genuinely adorable. I think I might actually be rooting for those two now? That “Chucky” wraps up its biggest plot thread with two episodes left to go does suggest season three isn't done making some big swings. I'm looking forward to where this is all going next. [8/10]

Halloween 2023: September 21st

Renfield (2023)

As someone fascinated by the horror movies produced by Universal Studios from 1923 to 1960, I have followed the company’s attempts to reboot the Universal Monsters as a modern franchise with rapt attention. It’s been, mostly, a series of failures ranging in severity from box office disappointments to full blown fiascoes. After years of non-starters, Universal finally touched on the right idea when they let Blumhouse remake the monsters as medium-budget horror films. Based on the box office success and critical acclaim of Leigh Whannel’s “Invisible Man,” Universal announced a whole slate of new monster movies. Then another snag emerged, in the form of COVID-19 bringing the globe to a standstill for two years. It’s hard to say if Elizabeth Banks’ “Invisible Woman,” Paul Feig’s mysterious “Dark Army,” James Wan’s “Frankenstein” project, Ryan Gosling’s “Wolfman,” and an untitled animated feature are ever going to make it out of Development Hell. 

Three years later, we’ve finally gotten our next entry in this new series of Universal Monsters movies. “Renfield,” a self-described gore comedy conceived by Robert Kirkman, was initially to be directed by Dexter Fletcher. Instead, Chris McKay would realize the movie. A direct sequel to 1931’s “Dracula,” it positions R.M. Renfeld as the vampire count’s put-upon assistant. He’s been protecting Dracula during the day time, securing victims for him, and reviving him when vampire hunters inevitably track him down again for decades now. Even the bonus of longer life and superpowers, activated by eating bugs, has done little to ease Renfeld’s ennui. Fed up with the abuse by his boss, Renfeld seeks out a support group for dealing with toxic relationships in modern day New Orleans. His attempts to separate himself from his bloodsucking boss quickly entangle with a local crime family and the rookie cop determined to bring them down. 

For a 64 million dollar studio movie, “Renfeld” is kind of weird. Horror comedies are rarely box office hits — as the movie’s meager gross can attest to — and it’s hard to imagine the pitch meeting that successfully got this green lit. The only recent hit movies I can compare it to are the “Deadpool” series. In fact, “Renfeld” frequently feels like a horror-ified attempt to replicate the specific Deadpool formula. It combines self-satisfied vulgar dialogue with hyper-bloody action scenes. Meanwhile, Renfeld directly addressing the audience via narration and the frequent subversions of the film medium — such as a flashback to the 1931 “Dracula” that deep-fakes Nicholas Hoult and Nic Cage’s face over Dwight Frye and Bela Lugosi’s faces — remind me of the flippant superhero saga’s meta elements. 

Of course, a large percentage of the Letterboxd audience find “Deadpool” unbearably obnoxious. “Renfeld” is definitely at its weakest when emulating the Merc with a Mouth. The self-consciously profane dialogue is sometimes unbearable. The rocket-sled editing takes some getting-used-to. Dialogue that takes its time explaining the specifics of Renfeld’s bug-eating superpowers and setting up the story suggest a certain lack of confidence in the viewer. Sequences that explain the mechanics of Dracula’s magic blood or circles of salt feel at length feel like belabored attempts to set up later events. For the first half-hour, I genuinely wasn’t sure if this movie was going to work for me or not. 

However, “Renfeld” eventually find its gory groove. The movie is at its best when contrasting the horrific circumstances of its character with a more mundane setting. Renfeld going on a shopping spree via montage or pasting the walls of his pastel apartment with self-motivational posters made me laugh. This is best exemplified in a scene where Dracula shows up at his home, casually sipping on a martini glass full of blood and eyeballs. Or when Hoult breaks into his neighbors’ place and chugs the contents of an ant farm. That kind of loopy absurdity pairs better with the gory gags than the f-bomb laden dialogue. 

If nothing else, “Renfeld” does commit fully to the gore comedy label. When empowered by devoured creepy crawlers, Renfeld can easily rip his opponents apart. Heads are punched off, bodies are cleaved in half, intestines are spilled, and torn-off arms are fashioned into makeshift spears. There’s more practical effects here than expected, which certainly gives a little more heft to the bloody mayhem. The accompanying action scenes suffer a bit from the same overediting that effects the whole movie. That Deadpoolian commitment to juvenile gags rears its head during a “Mortal Kombat”-style x-ray fatality. Yet, by the time Renfield fashions vampire fangs into improvised knuckledusters, I realized I was having a good time with this. 

If anything holds this nutty genre hybrid together, it’s a cast enjoying themselves. Nicholas Hoult probably would’ve been funnier if he emphasized Renfeld’s pathetic desperation more. Instead, he plays him as a worn-down optimist doing his best to regain control of his life. Yet Hoult proves to be a plucky, likable protagonist nevertheless. (Ben Schwartz, who plays the obnoxious secondary antagonist, might have pulled off that combination a little better.) Awkafina, a performer who can be incredibly annoying sometimes, has decent chemistry with Hoult, even if she can never enliven what is definitely the least inspired part of the movie. Of course, the real catch here is Nic Cage as the Count. Cage’s Mega Acting is well suited to an oversized character like the king of vampires. His — if you’ll excuse the pun — theatrical vamping gets more than a few laughs. Cage is at his best when going on indignant rants, not unlike the last time he played a bloodsucker. 

Ultimately, I get the impression that “Renfeld” would’ve been sturdier with a more confident tonal mix. If the crime story B-plot was played less wacky and more grounded, its sequences of cartoonish violence and subversion of gothic horror trappings would've gotten bigger laughs. As it is, the movie feels like a unsteady mixture of "Braindead" style splatstick and a standard comic book inspired action flick. Despite these flaws, I still enjoyed myself with this one. McKay's direction has enough visual panache in it to make the movie distinctive looking. The leads are compelling, especially when leaning into the absurdity inherent in the material. Ultimately, I guess I'm predisposed to enjoy a movie this fucking odd, that blends classic horror characters with entrails and F-bombs. I'm not shocked in the least that it failed to connect with a wide audience but "Renfeld" will probably grab a cult following in years to come. [7/10]

The Corpse Vanishes (1942)

The time has come, once again, for me to return to the realm of Bela Lugosi's Monogram movies.  The iconic “Dracula” star made nine movies with the poverty row studio throughout the forties. None of these movies are especially well regarded, with some of them being considered among the horror icon's weakest work. At the same time, almost all of the films Lugosi made for the famously threadbare studio fell quickly into the public domain. Producers looking to make a quick buck by filling out the bottom half of a double feature, as cheaply as they could, weren't all that concerned about intellectual property. (It's not like television and home video existed yet, so once these flicks ended their run in theaters, they might as well not exist anymore in the logic of the time.) This means that, no matter how lame these flicks might be, they survive through countless horror host programs, cheap DVD box sets, and every video streaming website around. “The Corpse Vanishes” is one such typical example. 

Young brides, on their wedding days, are dropping over at the altars, seemingly dead. Afterwards, the bodies vanish under increasingly mysterious circumstances. Female reporter, Patricia Hunter, signs up to investigate the case, much to the chagrin of her editor. She soon learns that each bride received a mysterious orchid, laced with a strange drug, before their weddings. She tracks down local orchid expert, Dr. Lorenz, for his opinion. Hunter doesn't realize that Lorenz is the culprit, stealing the girl's body and draining their corpses of vital fluids in order to keep his vain wife young and beautiful. While stuck at Lorenz' home during a torrential storm, Patricia uncovers the doctor's macabre operation. She races to catch him before he strikes again. 

“The Corpse Vanishes” is a good snapshot of the kind of horror movies Monogram produced during the forties. In the sense that its story is largely a compilation of the genre's most frequent clichés at the time. Lorenz operates out of a spooky mansion, with a secret laboratory in the basement. He has several henchmen in his service, including a hunchback and a dwarf. (The former is given the unassuming name of “Mike” while the latter is played by “Freaks” Angelo Rossitto.) The hunchback, naturally, develops a crush on the lovely Patricia, pawing at her sleeping body. Among the story's more unlikely plot developments is the dark and stormy night that strands our heroine at the doctor's abode.  Much like Lugosi's most famous character, Lorenz is also found of lurking over sleeping maiden's body and has some hypnotic powers, though that's not explored much. The story of a mad scientist performing arcane experiments to maintain a woman's beauty is certainly a cliché too, though one that wouldn't reach its peak until the days of “Dr. Orloff” and “Eyes Without a Face.” 

Bela, it goes without saying, could play a role like this in his sleep. Lugosi deploys his often called-upon villain act, leering wickedly and intoning with sinister intent. (His legendary hand acting is underutilized.) “The Corpse Vanishes” also has a mildly captivating heroine, as played by Luana Walters. The film almost becomes interested when it puts Walter's Patricia through the casual sexism wringer. She gets slapped suddenly by Lorenz' cruel wife. After seeing all sorts of creepy shit in his basement, the doctor does everything he can to gaslight her into believing she saw nothing. None of the men around her take her seriously at all. Even her love interest, in the form of Tristam Foster's virtuous doctor, doesn't seem to believe her. “The Corpse Vanishes” is 100% of its time, so these sexist structures are presented without criticism. Her getting swept off her feet by the bland hero, who she's known for all of a day, is presented as a happy ending. 

“The Corpse Vanishes” isn't without its recommendable attributes, especially to life-long classic horror nuts like myself. There's some okay shadowy atmosphere in a few shots. Lugosi is entertaining, as always. The bad guy having a whole family of deformed weirdos at his disposal, who eventually turn on him, provides some mild novelty. There's the neat detail of the doctor and his wife sleeping in caskets. (Which, now that I think about it, also recalls “Dracula.”) However, there's no escaping that “The Corpse Vanishes” is, like so many of Monogram's B-movie programmers, unforgivably slow. The film runs barely over an hour and feels much longer than that, the pace lumbering along at a sleepy speed on its way towards an underwhelming climax. The script feels both hopelessly rushed, in that every event leads into the next without much build-up, while also generally listless in its construction. 

You can tell “The Corpse Vanishes” is a ramshackle affair in other ways too. When it runs out of horror cliches to use, it delves into other genres as well. There's a comic relief sidekick working in the newsroom alongside Walters, who mugs it up in a few scenes. A handful of extremely mild car chases and shoot-outs unwind too, curbing considerably from the detective movies Monogram also produced. Even to an experienced classic horror nut, there's only so much to enjoy here. Due to its public domain nature, most of the prints of the movie are overly dark and grainy. The edition shown during a very relaxed season one episode of “Mystery Science Theater 3000” is of such a vintage. Better copies exist now, though whether or not it's worth digging up one of the nicer editions for such a mediocre movie is up to you. [5/10]

Cabinet of Curiosities: Graveyard Rats

I don't know how big a name Vincenzo Natali is, even among horror nerds, but I'm a fan. I was excited to see him included among Guillermo del Toro's “Cabinet of Curiosities.” For his episode, Natali adapts a classic of weird fiction from Henry Kuttner. Set in 1900s Salem, “Graveyard Rats” follows Masson, a cemetery caretaker who also robs the graves for valuables. However, the rats that occupy the graveyard have started making off with the corpses before he can burgle them. When Masson learns a rich man is going to be buried with his priceless saber, he's eager to rob the casket so he can settle up his debts. As he digs it up, he finds the rats dragging the body away. Masson descents into the tunnels under the graveyard after his target, uncovering a world of horror under his feet. 

“Graveyard Rats” is exactly the kind of classy but grotesque gothic horror thrills I hoped for from “Cabinet of Curiosities.” Natali and cinematographer Colin Hoult create a delightfully atmospheric looking episode. The seasick greens and grays of the gritty settings – of haunted looking graveyards, greasy brothels, dreary mortuaries, and rat-infested tunnels – establish the correct mood. Some memorable visuals appear, such as Masson being hammered into a casket during a nightmare scene or his face enlarging when looking through a glass bottle. Once the episode is underground, the dingy tunnels and bone-filled catacombs are properly claustrophobic. The rats might be mostly CGI but they still induce some squirms when crawling all over someone's face and body. 

Another pleasure of “Graveyard Rats” is its star. Natali brings along his regular leading man, David Hewlett, to play Masson. Hewlett happily hams it up in the part. He gnaws through reams of colorful, complex dialogue while playing a charismatic dirt bag. Much like “Lot 36,” this is a story of a less-than-honorable fellow getting a suitably ironic punishment for his greed and lack of respect for the dead. Yet Hewlett makes Masson almost a lovable scoundrel, as he schemes his way around the various brokers and coroners he interacts with. It's almost a one man show for him too, which Hewlett is more than capable of handling.

Also like “Lot 36,” this story involves a cursed artifact that awakens eldritch horrors when they are purloined. Kuttner was a contemporary of Lovecraft – both were regular features in “Weird Tales” – so it's not surprising that he dipped his toes into some of the same story tropes. The creature effects are obviously well done, with a giant rat monster being especially disgusting and intimidating. Overall, “Graveyard Rats” is a delight for fans of this kind of material. It looks great, has an amusing lead performance, and features all sorts of squirmy thrills. [8/10]

Chucky: The Sinners Are Much More Fun

With the set-up of the first episode out of the way, “Chucky” can get to the actual premise of its second season. Jake, Devon, and Lexy have been shipped off to Incarnate Lord, the same Catholic boarding school for troubled youths that Charles Lee Ray grew up in. While trying to integrate themselves among the strict staff of priests and nuns, the three teens wait around for the murderous doll's inevitable reappearance. Soon enough, Chucky sneaks into the school through a charity toy drive and begins tormenting the youths and bumping unlucky side characters off. Meanwhile, Chucky's equally homicidal squeeze, Tiffany Valentine, is still inside the body of actress Jennifer Tilly. She's still tormenting Nica Pierce, whose arms and legs have been cut off and whose body contains a part of Chucky's soul. 

It's already obvious that “Chucky” is going to have some fun exploiting the Catholic school setting. One of the nuns, upon seeing Chucky's angelic plastic face, thinks he's a vision of our Lord and Savior. Ideas of sin, temptation, and redemption are clearly on the writers and showrunners' minds this season, if the conversation Jake has with one of the teachers is any indication. Much more fun is the strange relationship brewing between Jake and Father Bryce. I can't help but wonder what direction this show will take the idea of a Catholic priest expressing an interest in a teenage boy. Finally, I really like Lexy's quirky roommate, the kleptomaniac Nadine, played by the suitably off-beat Bella Higgenbotham. She immediately becomes part of the gang here, so hopefully the show will keep her around for a while. 

Obviously, we are all watching this show for the killer doll. Chucky gets a few good moments. It seems, like everyone else, he's become obsessed with taking selfies with his cell phone. His interaction with a nun, that he scares to death, also got a chuckle out of me. As did his reaction when a teenage girl screams at him. Whether the subplot about Tiffany/Jennifer Tilly and Nica goes anywhere compelling remains to be seen. Fioana Dourif still does a great impersonation of her dad. Tilly is still utterly delightful as the unhinged killer. But I can also see this subplot dragging things down. I guess we'll see. Overall, this is a pretty fun episode, even if not nearly as much stuff happens here as in the premiere. [7/10]

Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2003)

14. Matchstick Men

By 2003, Ridley Scott had directed movies in a number of genres. Science-fiction, historical epics, action, fantasy, and horror were all well within his wheelhouse. One thing he definitely hadn't made was a comedy. In fact, the sometimes suffocating seriousness of films like "Gladiator" or "Black Hawk Down" suggested Scott didn't have much of a sense-of-humor at all. I suppose, after his last few films were such grim affairs, he wanted to lighten things up a little bit. "Matchstick Men" would see the director stepping outside his comfort zone to try something more fleet-footed and light-hearted. 

Roy Waller, along with his partner Frank Mercer, makes his living pulling petty cons on unsuspecting people. Mostly, he tricks old ladies into writing big checks by posing as salesman, contest runners, or IRS agents. Roy also has fairly severe OCD, which he barely keeps in-check with medication. After loosing his pills, he seeks out a shrink who encourages him to get back in-contact with an ex-wife, who was pregnant when she left him. This is when Roy discovers he has a 14-year-old daughter named Angela. She becomes part of his life, testing him and causing him to open up emotionally. Invigorated, Roy and Frank set out on their biggest con yet. 

"Matchstick Men" is based off a novel by Eric Garcia, who is best known for a series of novels about a detective who is also a dinosaur. If that didn't make it apparent, Garcia tends to write very quirky stories. That attitude extends into "Matchstick Men's" film version. Roy's tics and compulsions make him a non-standard protagonist. The dialogue is highly stylized. The film includes cute little touches, like Roy eating only tuna fish or hiding his money inside a dog-shaped bank. In fact, "Matchstick Men" fits pretty comfortably into a wave of indie-ish quirky comedies about family that were all the rage at the time. It predates movies like "Little Miss Sunshine" and "Juno" but feels akin to their style. Everything about this movie just screams early 2000s. 

That "Matchstick Men" is Ridley Scott's stab at the quirky indie comedy subgenre is very apparent in the film's visual direction. The film's opening credits have the scenes and names appearing in little boxes before sliding off-screen. The editing is fast-paced and comical. Hans Zimmer's score is jangly and fleet-footed, establishing the film's softly eccentric sense of humor. The cinematography and visuals continues in that stylized way. When an opened patio door triggers Roy's OCD, the film adopts his point-of-view, with searing colors and swirling audio. After being hit over the head, Roy's disorientation is depicted through similarly tilting visual. (Scott used this same trick in "Hannibal.") It's almost overbearing at times but it fits better here than in some of Scott's other films. Oh, and the slotted blinds in Roy's apartment allows for some of Scott's trademark lighting.

Definitely the quirkiest thing about "Matchstick Men" is its premise of a con artist with obsessive-compulsive disorder and Tourette's syndrome. That sounds like a TV show, doesn't it? ("Monk," which has a similar set-up, debuted the year before "Matchstick Men" hit theaters.) The movie is not an especially deep examination of these conditions. The obsessive thoughts that surely torment Roy, or the discomfort of dealing with uncontrollable tics, is not dwelled upon. Instead, the movie plays his rituals – opening doors three times or obsessing over his carpet fabrics – for humor. A scene where he has to confront his germphobia, by digging through some trash, is inevitable. The film ends with the mildly insulting idea that his disorders are entirely psychological and can be overcome strictly through a change in outlook. Though this does, at least, explain the unlikeliness of someone with uncontrollable compulsions being able to work as a con artist. 

"Matchstick Men" attempts to fuse this quirky comedy style with the con artist movie, a mini-genre with a distinct set of rules since at least "The Sting." We see this band of grifters set up schemes to bilk the unsuspecting out of their hard-earned cash. This involves elaborate disguises, false identities, and engineered distractions to do simple things like switch a pair of suitcases or get someone to write a check. It's nothing we haven't seen before but watching "Matchstick Men" go about its business is fairly entertaining. Watching the schemes come together, and wondering if the target is aware they're being ripped-off, is fun to watch.

Of course, the grifter genre has certain clichés and rules of its own. It's only a matter of time before one of the confidence games go horribly wrong. This occurs halfway through the second act, right on time, setting up a final third full of dramatic decisions. The biggest expectation of the con movie is that all the conmen are conning each other. This occurs as well, with a twist ending that you see coming from the film's earliest minutes. It's immediately apparent that the two storylines, of Roy's criminal day job and his reunion with his lost daughter, are connected. The minute the switcharoo goes down is obvious and leads to a climax lacking in surprise.

Yet this isn't such a big loss, because "Matchstick Men's" greatest joys have little to do with its routine storyline. As a movie about a thoroughly disaffected man forging a relationship with his unexpected daughter, which opens his heart back up, this is extremely charming. Angela breaks Roy out of his cycle, having him ordering pizza and getting out of his comfort zone. She's as observant about human behavior as he is, such as a scene where she convinces him to let her join the con game by talking about her teenage romantic life. The quieter moments are sweet too, when Roy tries to comfort her when she's sad or how they patch things up following an argument. These characters are well realized enough that you get invested in their relationship. The movie has a lot of heart and that saves it. 

Scott and his team are smart enough to realize that emotional core is way more valuable than the twists and turns of the story. After the big reveal, the movie jumps ahead a year in time. Roy and Angela are reunited by chance, living totally different lives. It's such a quiet and understated ending, that makes it clear that the relationship the movie is built on was more real than the twist ending made you think. It's a kind of sweet, kind of sad conclusion that gives us a perfect sense of closure. Considering Roy and Angela's bond is what makes "Matchstick Men" work, returning to it in the final minutes is the best decision the film could've made. 

"Matchstick Men" is able to sell its dual attributes of eccentric and heartfelt largely thanks to its cast. Nicolas Cage was an ideal choice for Roy. Obviously, a leading man as serially unpredictable as Cage relishes the chance to play a character with so many quirks. A twitching eyelid, emotional outbursts, and wild hand gestures seem so second-nature to him, you can't help but imagine he's like that in real life. Cage's "mega-acting" is certainly well utilized for comedy here, such as when he yells unexpectedly about pissing blood. Yet Cage's special talent as an actor is to make such oversized characters seem like real people. Roy isn't defined by his tics and has a complex inner-life outside of them. You understand and relate to Roy's problems, as ridiculous as they can be, and it makes "Matchstick Men" very sincere.

It also helps that Cage has dynamite chemistry with Alison Lohman, as Angela. Though Lohman is so effervescently charming that I think she could've had chemistry with anyone, including a cardboard cutout. There's no denying that Lohman is absolutely adorable as Angela, with her bright eyes, shinning smile, and chubby cheeks. She's completely convincing as a high-spirited teenage girl, that is so much fun to be around, that you long to protect. Watching her embrace her dad's career is a blast. It's such an obvious star making turn that it makes her career never quite taking off, and her eventual retreat from the spotlight, all the more disappointing. 

If "Matchstick Men" hadn't starred Nic Cage, it probably would've starred Sam Rockwell, another actor who specializes in rooting oversized characters in real heart. Instead, "Matchstick Men" costars Rockwell. Rockwell pumps up the attitude as Frank, who equally encourages and teases his partner. His easy-going sarcasm is a good fit for the movie's tone and plays off of Cage nicely. Bruce McGill also appears as the tough guy Roy and Frank rip-off, which makes good use for the actor's talent for blustery intimidation. Also, watch out for a cameo from Beth Grant as an enthusiastic woman in a laundromat. 

"Matchstick Men" would not exactly signal a new chapter in Ridley Scott. Right afterwards, he was went back to his usual blood soaked style. The movie received positive reviews but didn't make much of an impact on the box office and was a no-show during award season. Despite probably being a minor work for the director, I've always liked "Matchstick Men." It's breezy, cute, and funny. It doesn't overcome the cliches of its script but manages to be charming even with those flaws. Maybe I'm just a sucker for Alison Lohman's smile and Nic Cage overacting. Either way, I have a good time whenever I watch the film. [Grade: B+]

Director Report Card: David Lynch (1990) Part Two

6. Wild at Heart

David Lynch was definitely having A Moment in 1990. While working on the pilot of “Twin Peaks,” he was offered a chance to produce an adaptation of “Wild at Heart: The Story of Sailor and Lula,” a then-unpublished novel by Barney Gifford. Lynch quickly decided he didn't want to merely produce the film but write and direct it as well. The film would premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, where it received discordant reactions. Yet, with “Twin Peaks” having become a full-blown phenomenon by that point, it was decided that Lynch was the defining filmmaker of the time who had reached full maturity as an artist. “Wild at Heart” would win Canne's top prize, the Palme d'Or, a move which was met badly by some people. “Wild at Heart” remains among Lynch's most divisive features.

Lula and Sailor, two youths that aren't much more than teenagers, are in love. Lula's mother, Marietta, does not approve and sends a man to kill Sailor. When Sailor violently beats the attacker's head in, he goes to jail. After getting out, Sailor and Lula break parole and tear on down the road. Further enraged, Marietta sends her two lovers – a private detective and a mafia hitman – after them, to retrieve her daughter and kill the boy she loves. Lula and Sailor will soon confront the darkness of the world as they try to find a way for themselves and keep their love burning bright.

The very first image in “Wild at Heart” is a flame igniting. Blazing fires reoccur throughout the entire film. This is fitting, as “Wild at Heart” is burning with emotion. In a key moment, Lula becomes so excited by the idea of dancing, that she stomps her feet rhythmically on their bed. The two protagonist frequently dance in a wild, violent fashion. During a heavy metal concert, we see people slam-dancing in the most intense manner. Characters scream, in agony and pleasure. Moans, of sexual ecstasy, terror, and everything in-between, are frequently heard. Sailor vacillates between passionate love for his girlfriend and an intense rage that turns him into a monster when fighting someone. This is the world of “Wild at Heart,” where every emotion – but love most of all – is always at the most fever pitch. Characters fuck, fight, and feel at maximum intensity.

It's only fitting that “Wild at Heart's” characters should act in such an extreme manner. Lynch has referred to the film as a tale of lovers in Hell. And the film's world is hellish. During a key moment, Lula is driven into an anguished frenzy by a series of news stories referencing rape, homicide, and necrophilia. This is, by far, Lynch's most vulgar and violent film. Characters frequently swear and scream. The first scene has a man's head being smashed into bloody pulp. The finale features another man's head being shotgunned off and bouncing into a wall. Bloody bodies are found on the side of the road and violent gangs roam the streets. Random characters are surrounded by half-nude women. There's talk of pornography and sexual assault, torture, and despair. It's a graphic film.

Especially graphic is its depiction of sex. Sailor and Lula's passion for each other is such that they can't keep their hands off each other. The screen often goes warm and orange during these moments, as if their lovemaking is causing heat to radiate off the screen. The character's vocally voice their enjoyment of each other's bodies. Sailor describes his first sexual conquest in graphic detail. “Wild at Heart” is definitely interested in the sweaty, visceral effects of sex, during and after. One of the film's nastiest moments shows an abortion Lula had as a teenage, after her uncle raped her. (Which we also see the disturbing aftermath of.)

Yet, for all its nudity and semi-graphic fuckery, “Wild at Heart” is akin to Lynch's earlier films. Despite their actions, with each other and against other people, Lula and Sailor are still innocents of sorts. They are basically big kids, way over their heads in a world with mean intentions for them. “Wild at Heart” is ultimately a story about their love for one another being tested. They have the violent machinations of Lula's deranged mother, pursuit by a hitman, and violent crime in their path. It's true that the course of true love never ran smooth, especially here. They stumble towards maturity as they attempt to survive this wild world and keep loving each other. In that sense, “Wild at Heart” is a classic story of young lovers on the run together, learning a lot about life along the way.

“Wild at Heart” continues some of Lynch's other themes too. If “Blue Velvet” and “Twin Peaks” showed him subverting images of Americana by exposing its dark underbelly, “Wild at Heart” has him chewing up classic American concepts and vomiting them back up as nightmares. Sailor, much like Nic Cage himself, is obsessed with Elvis Presley. Lula is obsessed with “Wizard of Oz,” a story that is referenced throughout the film. Marietta becomes the most nightmarish version of the Wicked Witch of West. Lynch, rather knowingly, cast Sheryl Lee – Laura Palmer herself – as Glenda the Good Witch. The film is a classic road trip story, an idea aided further by its classic cars and retro fashions. By sticking such well-known American iconography in such a hellish situation, Lynch is twisting the ideas they represent in a new light.

As interesting as “Wild at Heart” is, it's also a deeply flawed film. The road trip pacing races ahead, fast and furious, until the characters arrive at Big Tuna. There, the pacing screeches to a halt. Moreover, there are times when “Wild at Heart” just feels like our protagonists encountering a succession of increasingly bizarre characters. At a roadside dinner, they run into a helium-voiced man for no particular reason. The entire subplot around Harry Dean Stanton's Farragut doesn't amount to much. Hotel managers with snooty accents and cast on their feet show up. There's a long memory devoted to Lula's exceedingly eccentric Cousin Dell, played by Crispin Glover at his most bizarre, and his very strange habits. Once in Big Tuna, we meet Jack Nance as a crazy man ranting about an invisible dog, a pair of eloquently spoken hicks, and a collection of naked obese women. It never pays off too much and often feels like Lynch just throwing in weird, goofy stuff because it amuses him.

In fact, “Wild at Heart” has some pretty serious tonal issues. It's a frequently grotesque film. Sometimes, we are clearly meant to laugh at this grotesqueness. Such as when a dog wanders off with a severed hand in its mouth. This jives badly with the other scenes, where Lynch is clearly creating absurd, grotesque villains to disgust us. Marietta Fortune, as played by Diana Ladd, is nothing short of terrifying. She smears her face with lipstick, screams and weeps. Merietta is a woman at the end of her rope and projecting that ugliness at everyone around her. Similarly vile is Willem DaFoe's Bobby Peru, a sadistic criminal with rotting teeth and snake-like eyes. The moment where he assaults Lula has to be among the most discomforting moments in Lynch's entire career. (No easy feat.) Both actors are incredible playing such revolting villains, though it's still hard to tell what our exact reactions are suppose to be to these excesses.

Still, for all its flaws, “Wild at Heart” has its share of indelible moments, unforgettable scenes that only David Lynch could've conceived. The most effective is when Sailor and Lula come across a car wreck in the middle of the night. They discover a young woman – played by “Twin Peak's” Sherilyn Fenn – who is clearly dying of a grievous head wound. It's a heartbreaking moment, the girl only able to focus on trivial details as she bleeds out. If that scene is deeply sad, “Wild at Heart's” other highlight is frighteningly intense. Johnnie Farragut is captured by Juana Durango, played by a truly unhinged Grace Zabrieskie. Lynch's camera watches intently, with jerky editing, as Farragut is psychologically tortured before being killed. It is a very uncomfortable, unnerving moment. (Supposedly, the scene was originally longer but proved so disturbing, even Lynch decided he had to cut it down.)

At the center of “Wild at Heart's” madness and chaos are two utterly committed performance. Nicolas Cage goes “full Cage,” as fans are fond of calling it. He shouts and points, karate kicks and does handstands, and roars like a wild animal. Yet, as wild and over-the-top as Cage is, he also plays Sailor as a lovable doofus, desperately trying to do the right thing but uncertain of the route. Laura Dern, meanwhile, plays Lula as an especially lusty innocent. She loves her boyfriend, loves to have sex with her boyfriend, loves music. The world has abused and mistreated her and it's caused her hope to fade at times... Yet she keeps holding on somehow. Dern, of course, is perfectly capable of bringing this character to life.

Whatever you think of “Wild at Heart” as a whole, you have to agree that Lynch's instincts as a visual and aural stylist rarely fail him. The frequent shots of burning fires becoming a powerful symbol, the more the movie returns to it. The visual references to "Wizard of Oz" – Mariella appearing as a ghostly witch on a broomstick, images cast in a crystal ball – are certainly memorable. The visual construction of “Wild at Heart” is fantastic, shadows and lights, long shots and close-ups, having their full effect. The encounter between Lula and Bobby Peru is filmed like a stage play, two characters talking in a flat, wide room. The film's soundtrack slides between soft rock and blaring speed metal, rumbling ambient noise and quiet serenity. This is why Lynch is among America's greatest stylist.

“Wild at Heart” received some raves but many baffled, annoyed pans as well. This made it an extremely controversial choice to win the Palme, the announcement being greeted with boos. I don't think the film deserved to win either. It's probably among my least favorite Lynch films. That still means it has some moments of absolute inspired insanity, some strong performance, and a deranged, often disturbing atmosphere that's really not like much else. With “Twin Peaks” being such a big deal at the time, with David Lynch's name actually having commercial appeal at the time, “Wild at Heart” even managed to make a little money at the box office. I can only imagine what mainstream audiences coming off of “Peaks” thought of this... [Grade: B]

Halloween 2019: September 29th

Vampire's Kiss (1988)

Somewhere along the way, Nicolas Cage went from one of those actors we were all suppose to hate to an adored cult icon. I attribute this shift in perception to a YouTube compilation of Cage “loosing his shit,” making people realize Cage's style of “mega-acting” was hilarious and highly entertaining. The actor has embraced his newfound cult popularity. In-between appearing in undistinguished junk, he's done actually great acting in genuinely interesting movies. No high-light reel of Cage loosing his shit would be complete with 1988's bizarro horror/comedy, “Vampire's Kiss.” In fact,  In fact, “Vampire's Kiss” may be the Cagiest movie ever made.

Paul Loew is a highly successful literary agent but, despite his life style of riches and hook-ups with random beautiful women, he isn't happy. Following a hot date with a young artist, Paul is attacked by a bat in his bedroom, which arouses him. Afterwards, he begins to have phantasmagorical visitations from Rachel. The fanged woman appears in his room every night, reducing him to a whimpering state as she drinks his blood. Paul naturally assumes her to be a vampire, feeling himself becoming one of the undead too. Meanwhile, he focuses his impotent rage on Alva, his secretary who can't locate an unimportant legal document.

Produced a few years before “American Psycho” was published, “Vampire's Kiss” is a similarly dark satire about the fragility of white masculinity. Paul would seem to have his life under control but, during his deeply shallow sessions with his shrink, he complains about his lack of a love life. His relationship with Rachel – which the film more-or-less confirms is entirely hallucinatory – involves this yuppie master of the world ceding control of his life to a woman. Rachel always dominates him in the bedroom, reducing Paul to a whimpering mess. A woman having so much power over Paul in his fantasies causes him to act out monstrously in real life. He heaps abuse on Alva, constantly harassing her, degrading her, insulting her, and eventually assaulting her. And it's no mistake on the filmmaker's behalf that the targets of Paul's wildest abuses are all non-white, non-American, female.

A lot of the movie's absurdist humor also arises from its horror content. The idea of a woman dominating Paul strikes him as so impossible, he imagines her as a fantastical creature: A vampire. Thus, Paul's splintering ego turns him into a vampire too. The movie mines humor from comparing the fantastic quality of the vampire myth with the extremely petty concerns of its protagonist. He imagines himself as unseen in a mirror, when he's still very visible... Much to the chagrin of someone sharing the public bathroom with him in that moment. He collapses in the sight of religious symbols. He improvises his fancy sofa into a casket. When unable to grow fangs on his own, he purchases the cheapest, plastic set of chompers he can find. It's a hilarious and oddball subversion of everything we've come to expect from a vampire movie.

Yet the greatest comedic weapon “Vampire's Kiss” has is Nicolas Cage's titanic performance. Cage isn't merely over-the-top. He's acting in such a grotesquely oversized fashion, that he creates a heightened cartoon reality all around him. Adopting a bizarre accent, he has one emotional outburst after another. He screams profanity, recites the ABCs, and declares his newfound vampirism as loudly as possible. Cage leaps atop desks, points wildly, gesticulates strangely with his hands and bodies, moans towards the heavens, heaves exaggeratedly, eats a live cockroach, and glares in the most unhinged fashion. It's an utterly unforgettable explosion of truly demented acting. Cage will make your mouth hang open in disbelief that someone would be willing to go so far to entertain and fascinate film viewers.

“Vampire's Kiss” is pretty interesting overall. You can read a lot more into what it says about men, women, and power roles. I only just scratched the surface there. Obviously too aggressively weird and mean-spirited to be a box office success, the film ended director Robert Bierman's career before it even really started. (He's mostly done television in the years since.) Bierman's visual sense is strong, the musical score is fittingly spooky, and the supporting cast features strong turns from Maria Conchita Alonso and Jennifer Beals. Yet Cage's ground-shaking, wildman performance overshadows absolutely everything else about this movie, making “Vampire's Kiss” the kind of cult experience that must truly be seen to be believed. [8/10]

Twice-Told Tales (1963)

This might be hard to imagine but A.I.P. and Roger Corman's cycle of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations were so popular, they actually spawned a few copy-cat movies. The films' popularity in Europe prompted a number of gothic horror pictures in Italy and Germany. (One of which, “Castle of Blood,” I've already reviewed this year.) Even the art house crowd got into the game with 1968's “Spirits of the Dead,” a Poe omnibus directed by Fellini, Vadim, and Malle. The most blatant emulation of the Poe Cycle was United Artist's 1963 feature “Twice-Told Tales.” Instead of adapting Poe, the film pulled from that other early American master of literary macabre: Nathaniel Hawthorne. Much like 'Tales of Terror,” it is a three-part omnibus film. And, of course, Vincent Price is here too. The similarities are such that, for years, I just assumed “Twice-Told Tales” was also an A.I.P. production.

Despite the title, only one of the stories is taken from the Hawthorne collection of the same name and all three adaptations are rather loose. In “Dr. Heidegger's Experiment,” the 79 year old Carl Heidegger celebrates his birthday with his closest friend, Alex. Carl is still mourning the death of his wife, thirty years earlier. That night, they discover special water that can restore their youth and soon use it to resurrect Syliva, unearthing horrific secrets. In “Rappaccini's Daughter,” Dr. Rappaccini is so terrified of loosing his daughter, he pumps plant poison into her until her touch is acidic and deadly. This doesn't stop the beautiful maiden form catching the idea of a young man, forcing Rappaccini into even more extreme action. Lastly, “House of the Seven Gables” Gerald Pyncheon returns to his cursed ancestral home with his new wife. He's in search of buried treasure but the ghosts of the past call the new Mrs. Pyncheon in another direction.

Despite his reputation, Hawthorne wasn’t really a horror writer, belonging solidly to the dark romantics movement instead. So “Twice-Told Tales” adds explicit spooky elements, like resurrection and ghosts, and more severe themes, like murder and betrayal. Yet “Twice-Told Tales” also seeks to emulate the dry, literary tone Hawthorne is known for. So the movie’s attempts at scares come off as pretty hokey. This is most evident in “Mr. Heideggar’s Experiment,” which adds the melodramatic plot point of a love affair, poisoning, and back-stabbing. It also throws in a big, goofy skeleton. In fact, “Twice-Told Tales” seems to think the mere presence of skeletons is the pinnacle of horror,  as they also appear in the wrap-around and the final segment. “Mr. Heideggar’s Experiment” does have pretty fun performances from Price and Sebastian Cabot in its favor, at least until the bullshit plot twist spoils their friendship.

The second segment, “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” probably has the film’s best balance of horror and these literary aspirations. Perhaps not coincidentally, it’s also the most faithful of the film’s segments, though it adds a more overt mad scientist element and a more tragic ending. The idea of a poisonous girl, whose mere touch kills anything, is fairly novel. The dramatic center of the story, a daughter struggling against an obsessively over-protective father, is fairly compelling. The story utilizes Price’s strength for sinister intonations well, though he also manages to make Rappaccini somewhat sympathetic too. Though the ending is a bit melodramatic, it also features the film’s most striking imagery.

Instead of adapting one of Hawthorne’s other short stories for its final segment — “Young Goodman Brown” would’ve been a good fit for this film’s tone — the filmmakers shove in an adaptation of a whole novel, “The House of Seven Gables.” (Price had previously starred in a more faithful film of the story back in 1940, which I previously reviewed.) It’s an extremely loose adaptation, adding more ghosts, more murder, and more spookiness to the House. Some of this stuff, like a bleeding painting or a handless corpse discovered under a stone, are kind of cool. Though the house collapsing finale is a pretty blatant attempt to emulate Corman’s “House of Usher.” However, abandoning most of Hawthorne’s heavier ideas in favor of goofier horror antics makes the segment pretty thin soup, thematically speaking. Trying to force an entire novel into the space of an anthology film makes this one of the more heavily plotted tales, dragging down the film’s already laborious pacing in its last third.

Speaking of which! While all of the Corman Poe movies had the good sense to get in and out in under 90 minutes, “Twice-Told Tales” drags on for two hours. I have no idea how successful “Twice-Told Tales” was at the box office, though it’s notable United Artist made no further Hawthorne films. The film could be seen as something of a follow-up to the same year’s “Diary of a Madman,” another spooky classic literature adaptation Price made for UA. Despite the best efforts of Price, Cabot, Richard Dennings, Beverly Garland, and Jacquline deWit, “Twice-Told Tales” is ultimately something of a snore. Its scares are hokey and its tone ponderous. [5/10]

Tales from the Cryptkeeper: Uncle Harry's Horrible House of Horrors

With “Uncle Harry's Horrible House of Horrors,” “Tales from the Cryptkeeper” touches upon a more amusingly benign moral than usual. Grouchy Uncle Harry takes his six year old nephew to the carnival for his birthday. While the kid is excited by each ride and sight he sees, his uncle cynically dismisses all the attractions. He refuses to let the kid enjoy any of them, seeing each of them as scams or death traps. Eventually, the boy convinces his uncle to let him board the haunted house attraction. This is no ordinary dark ride, however, and Uncle Harry is soon expose to a series of actual monsters.

If you hadn't guessed already, by the end of this half-hour, Uncle Harry learns to loosen up some, not be such a spoil sport, and let the kid have some fun. The idea of a kid's cartoon largely devoted to a stodgy old adult being terrified by a succession of different monsters is a fun one. Watching Uncle Harry be menaced by vampire bats, carnivorous plants, giant bugs, actual zombies, and eventually a giant swinging pendulum is exactly the kind of spooky but kid-friendly horror I expect from “Tales from the Cryptkeeper.” That the kid is so excited by all of this is an amusing counterpoint. Sadly, the episode's denouncement takes it too far and lays the moral – of not loosing your childlike imagination and sense of fun – on too thick. And the host segments sees the Vaultkeeper and the Old Witch return, at their most irritating and obnoxious level yet. So this one was almost really good, is what I'm saying. [6/10]

Forever Knight: Father's Day

Another plot point “Forever Knight” was going to eventually touch upon was the mafia. The grandson of Toronto's biggest mob boss, Don Constantine, has made the decision to flee the family for the safety of his own son. This incenses the old man, who envisioned his grandson taking over the family business. The cops, Nick especially, are soon involved with protecting the guy. This is personal for Nick, as Don Constantine helped him travel to America decades before. (Apparently, the mafia has a side business giving vampire's safe passage to the new world.) Soon, the mob boss is calling in the favor owed to him by LaCroix.

“Father's Day” is a pretty solid episode largely because it directly links the typical crime-story-of-the-week and the vampire lore revolving around Nick and his old friends. LaCroix is blatantly painted as a father figure to Nick, explicitly mirroring the mobster's familial connection to his grandson. In both cases, the wannabe dad feels his offspring owes him a certain fidelity while the quasi-son demands freedom from his obsessive, controlling father figure. Building a lot of scenes around Nigel Bennet's hammy vamping as LaCroix makes this episode a delight. (LaCroix is back to his old DJ job, much to the viewer's delight.) There's a decent action sequence, of Nick fighting off some mob enforcers. The episode's tension keeps ramping up, until it looks like Nick and LaCroix are going to fight again... And then the episode just sort of ends in a disappointingly conversational anticlimax. Kind of a bum note to conclude a strong episode on. [7/10]