Halloween 2025: September 9th

The Final Destination (2009)

At the end of the 2000s, technology had advanced to the point that Hollywood became convinced to give 3-D another shot. They try this about every thirty years but the gimmick had slowly been gaining traction throughout the decade, mostly through animated movies and specialty documentaries utilizing the format. The impending release of James Cameron's “Avatar” – which would, indeed, prove the viability of 3-D, at least for a while – promised to revolutionize the tech. The horror genre, always eager to exploit a fad, jumped on the trend first. A 3-D remake of “My Bloody Valentine” hit theaters that February. In August, a fourth “Final Destination” movie would also utilize the third dimension. The third installment had been conceived in 3-D before the idea was abandoned, meaning Death hurling objects directly at audiences had been on somebody's mind for a while. Confusingly entitled “The Final Destination,” David R. Ellis was invited back to make the sequel after James Wong got busy with “Dragonball: Evolution.” While the fourth “Destination” is generally considered a franchise low, I bet Wong still wishes he had stuck with this one instead.

“The Final Destination” commits to the Mad Libs-like narrative formula for the series. Nick O'Bannon slots into the protagonist role, as the person who gets a vision of a massive calamari that claims the life of him and his friends. This time, it's wreck debris from a NASCAR race flying into the stands and causing the raceway stadium to collapse. As before, he gets a select group – including his girlfriend Lori, her BFF Janet, and some other bozos – out right before disaster strikes. As always, soon the survivors begin to perish in hideously gory “freak accidents.” Death has been cheated and now is out for revenge but you know that already. Once more, our hero and his friends attempt to figure out the pattern to Death's design and see if it can be escaped before anymore of them die. Rinse and repeat. 

It's easy to imagine why a producer would look at the “Final Destination” movies up to this point and assume 3-D would be a good choice for the series. Part two's bouncing log, speeding out-of-control truck or falling plate of glass would have extended off the screen nicely, ya know? It's a sound idea but “The Final Destination” makes an unfortunate miscalculation. More often than not, the sequel uses some truly mediocre digital effects to complete the illusion. A guy falling backwards onto a protruding piece of wood or getting segmented when launched through a chain-link fence are clever ideas for gory executions. They are ruined by exceedingly awkward special effects that render the ideas unimpressive CGI glopola. In fact, the entire stadium collapse sequence is hampered by some deeply mediocre effects. The sequel ends in an orgy of computer generated explosions, further underwhelming the viewer. As you'd expect with a 3-D sequel, there's a lot of tedious eye-gouging as well. When paired with the subpar effects, it drains a lot of fun from the film.

As I said, “The Final Destination” is committed to the series' formulaic approach. What made “Final Destination 2” such a blast was how it subverted and misdirected what the audience expected. By part four though, however, we've figured this shit out. When a mother of two boys goes into a salon, the puddle on the floor, the swiveling chair, and the rickety ceiling fan above are obviously fake-outs for the real method of doom. Disappointingly, this is the only trick the sequel has. A busy garage presents lots of chances for Death to strike, most of which obviously won't be used. A random speeding bus is taken directly from the first movie, the series having begun to repeat itself. “The Final Destination” is lacking in the cleverness necessary to make these gore shows any fun. At one point, the sequel can't be bothered to try and catch us off-guard. Once a faulty pool pump is introduced, we know the jock-o meathead is getting sucked into it. 

Ellis' “Final Destination 2” rose above the pack thanks to the sneaky ways it made the characters more memorable than those in the original. The third film leaned on lazy cliches instead and suffered because of it. “The Final Destination” can't be bothered to go that far. The meat bags this time around are about as indistinct as they come. There's a virulent racist, unpleasant enough that you want to see him die. There's a girl-chasing bro with frosted tips, who is only slightly less annoying. Our hero and his girlfriend, played by equally blank Bobby Campo and Shantel VanSanten, have absolutely nothing to offer us. About the only character with any substance is an older black man who contemplates suicide as a way to escape the vindictive reaper. It doesn't work. Which the man would already know if he had watched “Final Destination 2!” 

The general feeling floating around “The Final Destination” is a lack of new ideas. Only four movies in and it feels like the series has wrung itself dry, having become too dependent on its own routine. This is truly annoying because the repetitive nature of this franchise actually does imply something more interesting: Where do the psychic premonitions that kick off these movies come from? Why are certain people chosen to have these visions, only to fall victim to horrifying incidents afterwards? To me, the conclusion is obvious. If we can assume “Death” is a magical entity able to feel cheated and engineer elaborate malfunctions, is it too far of a leap to guess that he puts these visions into people's heads too? The Grim Reaper of the “Final Destination” universe is obviously a sadistic son-of-a-bitch who enjoys fucking with people. An exploration of the exact nature of the series' villain is the kind of thing the fourth entry in a series should've gotten around to. But that would've been too interesting for “The Final Destination.”

Ultimately, the sequel has two things going for it. The last sequence in the mall features an especially nasty death, when someone is feed into an escalator. That's the kind of common anxiety horror movies like this are made to play off on. The sick humor that powered “Final Destination 2” is largely absent here. However, a sequence involving an overflowing therapy pool – which otherwise features the same crappy effects as the rest of the movie – ends with a shot that made me chuckle. Otherwise, the lack of creativity apparent in “The Final Destination's” title also shines through the entire production. Underwhelming CGI and a lame script too satisfied to repeat what came before results in the weakest entry in the series. A 3-D “Final Destination” movie was a good idea on paper but, when paired with a total lack of new ideas, it does nothing to elevate the sequel. Ya know what might've improved things, if just a little? Tony Todd growling some bullshit about Death's design. You can easily tell which entries in this series are the bad ones by the amount of screen time the distinguished thespian has. [4/10]

Hunchback of the Morgue (1972)
El jorobado de la morgue

Among the classic Monster Mash line-up, the hunchback is the archetype that puts in the fewest appearances in the modern day. It's easy to guess why. Referring to someone with, as Wikipedia puts it, “an abnormally excessive convex curvature of the spine in the thoracic and sacral regions” as a “monster” is, at best, very rude and, at worst, totally dehumanizing. On another level, a dude with a fucked-up back isn't an especially impressive “monster” anyway. A condition that can be improved with a brace or posture exercises isn't exactly akin to being a zombie or vampire. Such sensitivities had clearly not reached Spain circa 1972. That is when Paul Naschy, the country's home-grown horror icon, starred in “Hunchback of the Morgue.” The especially lurid U.S. poster carried the tagline “Beware The Hunchback! A freak of nature whose crimes go beyond your wildest terrors!” I don't see that one getting past civil liberty organizations these days. All of that aside, among devotees of Naschy, this one is usually considered one of his best films.

In a small Spanish village lives Wolfgang Gotho, a deformed and simple man who works in the morgue of the local hospital. Gotho is bullied and belittled by everyone in town. The only person who treats him with any kindness is Ilse, a sickly childhood friend in hospice care. He brings her flowers every day but, when she dies, Gotho's already limited grip on reality totally slips. He steals her body from the morgue, murders the two doctors in attendance, and hides the corpse in an underground torture chamber once used by the Inquisition. On the run from authorities, Gotho ends up in the employ of Dr. Orla, a biologist obsessed with creating life. After promising to bring Ilse back from the dead, Gotho becomes the doctor's faithful servant. He manipulates the increasingly murderous hunchback into providing him with fresh bodies to feed to the weird monster he's growing. When Orla starts commanding Gotho to kidnap girls from the local reformatory, his colleagues – including Elke, who sees Gotho's sensitive side – take notice and try to stop these mad experiments. 

As much as they were blatant exploitation flicks, Paul Naschy's monster movies have a direct line to the Universal classics because he always made sure his beasties had a sad, sympathetic side. This is perhaps most true of The Hunchback of the Morgue. Gotho seems reasonably intelligent in some scenes but, at other times, is unable to understand the concept of death. It is not his fault that his understanding of right and wrong is skewed. Aside from his hump, he doesn't look especially deformed. However, he is still relentlessly mocked and abused by everyone around him. (People call him a monkey a lot and I do not know why.) Naschy's sad, soulful eyes truly get a workout in this one. There are several moments when Gotho looks up at someone with a tear rolling down his cheek and they genuinely tugged at my heart strings. He's so misunderstood, you guys. I mean, he brings a sick girl flowers every day! He worships her, despite considering himself unworthy of her love. Any time a woman is kind to him, his default reaction is to kneel at their feet and kiss their toes. And in a sweet way, not a Tarantino way. 

Yes, Gotho the hunchback is a precious smol bean of a horror villain... Ya know, except for all the people he kills. The very first action the character takes is murdering Ilse's unfaithful boyfriend, dragging the drunk guy into the morgue, slashing his throat and dismembering him. This is not the only time the character has a violent outburst before his sweetheart dies. Often, “Hunchback of the Morgue” will stop everything else it's doing and devote a long scene to Naschy gorily killing people. There's decapitation, disemboweling, an iron maiden being used for its intended purpose, a smothering via a bouquet of flowers, and multiple bodies being dunked into a pool of acid. This is an European exploitation flick from the seventies, so “Hunchback of the Morgue” tempers its gore with women disrobing, taking showers, and being whipped. There's an up-skirt scene of a corpse, which is probably the tackiest moment in a fairly tacky motion picture. Because Naschy usually wrote his own films and clearly used them as vehicles for his own fantasies, the miserable wretch Gotho still ends up getting a love scene with one of these beautiful ladies. The inconsistencies in the treatment of the character, sympathetic and misunderstood one minute, utterly murderous the next, mostly play as camp. Save for the moment where Gotho gets pelted with some very real rats that are then set ablaze with some very real fire. I didn't like that.

The mixture of classic horror tropes and bloody, sleazy action causes “Hunchback of the Morgue” to play like a low budget emulation of the later, grislier Hammer movies. The locations certainly contribute to this feeling. Naschy waddles around several genuine crumbling old buildings and churches. The underground chamber features a rack, old timey torches, and a robed skeleton, looking like an Aurora Monster Scenes model kit blown up to actual size. As the film goes on, it reveals itself as essentially a “Frankenstein” variant where Igor is the main character. Except weirder than that, as Dr. Orla isn't merely stitching dead body parts together. No, he's growing an artificial life form in a vat, which takes the form of squirming organs in a glass bucket. In its latter half, the film falls into a repetitive structure of Gotho retrieving bodies to feed to this ravenous beast, the already loose plot starting to truly go into circles. At least it comes back together for a properly ludicrous finale, wherein the oddball monster slithers on-screen.

Like nearly all of Naschy's films, there is an undeniable sloppy quality to “Hunchback of the Morgue.” (If admittedly less mixed up than “Count Dracula's Great Love,” the next film Naschy would make with director Javier Aguirre.) The story feels a bit jumbled up. The characters do not always act with much rhyme or reason. Especially Dr. Orla, who goes from reasonable enough authority figure to mad scientist in the blink of an eye. The movie is also a bit slow at times, as its plot wanders around in search of an ending. However, it is all worth it for those scenes of Naschy gazing at the camera, conveying so much pain and loneliness with only his eyes and face. I enjoyed the cheesy but grimy gore effects too. This would certainly be a better movie with a larger budget, a less slapdash script, and the freedom to not conform to exploitation movie expectations. At the same time, there's a charm to the seams showing. As a fellow monster kid, I can do nothing but salute Naschy's goofy vision. [7/10]

Out of the Unknown: Tunnel Under the World

The history of British genre television is a rabbit hole onto itself. Here, let me show you: In 1956, ITV started airing “Armchair Theatre,” a program that showcased a different dramatic “television play” every week. The idea proved popular enough to spawn spin-offs, such as “Armchair Mystery Theatre” and science fiction centric “Out of This World.” The show-runner for the latter program would soon begin developing a similar series for the BBC, which became “Out of the Unknown.” Bringing this all up is almost a moot point. Owing to the British television practice of recording over old video tapes, most of these shows are lost forever. Only one episode of the Boris Karloff-hosted “Out of This World” is extant. Of the Donald Pleasence hosted “Armchair Mystery Threatre,” ten episodes survive as 16mm recordings but good luck finding any of them. The hostless “Out of the Unknown” is the most complete, with twenty and a half installments commercially available at the moment. Of these, season two episode “Tunnel Under the World” seems to be the most highly regarded. 

Office worker Guy Birkett is having reoccurring dreams about being caught in a factory explosions. His wife, Mary, is having the same dream too, the couple waking up unsettled every day. By the way, every day is April 15th, according to the newspaper and the radio broadcast Guy receives every morning. The days are otherwise different, with the couple being inundated with a barrage of different advertisements every morning. In the mail, from the radio, from people walking around, and from car-mounted speakers. Obnoxious commercials for inane products like soda pop, candy bars, and fancy freezers assail them all the time. Upon arriving at work, a nervous man named Swanson requests a meeting with Guy. He claims that he can explain the unnerving feeling Guy feels every day. Guy dismisses him as a nut. As he gets ready for bed one night, Guy discovers a metal flooring underneath the rug of his flat. He passes out in the closest and maintains his memories of the previous day, while his wife does not and the rest of the world seems to reset. Teaming up with Swanson, Guy attempts to get to the bottom of this apparent conspiracy... But he's not prepared for the bizarre answers he discovers. 

“Tunnel Under the World” is one of those narratives that play off common paranoid fantasies, except the characters here are totally justified in their beliefs. We, the viewer, see small cameras emerging from the walls of Guy's apartment, watching him. At night, strange men emerge from the floor and perform bizarre experiments on the sleeping populace. It's a potent nightmare, the idea that easily dismissed schizophrenic concerns are actually true. That “Tunnel Under the World” takes the form of a mystery, where the protagonist is slowly discovering the scope of this conspiracy, makes the idea more powerful. Maybe it's only me but I feel imagining your entire life has been an engineered lie, and stumbling upon evidence for this revelation, is a common intrusive thought. It's “The Truman Show” psychosis and “Tunnel Under the World” was exploiting the idea three full decades before “The Truman Show” came out.

Like “The Truman Show,” what makes this scenario far more insidious is that it's not the result of some grand, God-like entity playing with its creation. No, the evil force behind this betrayal of the basic rules of reality, of the privacy we all take for granted, is something much more down to Earth: Capitalism. From the opening minute, Guy is bombarded with extremely obnoxious commercial jingles. The hard-sell advertisements only get more intrusive as the hour goes on, until the command to buy, buy, buy is literally screamed at him from a loud speaker. In our modern world, we are similarly assaulted at all hours by the siren call of commercialism. Every video we watch, every screen we look at, every place we visit is covered with advertisements for products. It's gotten to the point where it's impossible to tell if we are watching a sincere expression of a thought or feeling or an ad. “Tunnel Under the World” was quite ahead of its time in exploring this fear, the idea that every facet of our lives is being directed and controlled by a pressure to buy, consume, spend and nothing else. 

Like all British science fiction shows from this era, “Out of the Unknown” has extremely modest production values. There's very little music and the story mostly takes place on a series of mundane sets. Ronald Hines' acting goes a bit over-the-top, as he plays out the role of a stuffy British man “what's-all-this-then”-ing at a series of increasingly improbable circumstances. In its last act, “Tunnel Under the World” throws in a number of sudden plot swerves that get more and more outlandish. Was it some kind of law that the BBC couldn't produce a show like this without including an extremely goofy looking little robot? The final reveal is the campiest one of them all. However, that doesn't stop the script from exploring some very potent and fascinating ideas. The final image is rather unsettling, reinforcing the idea that all of us are at the whims of forces outside our control. Good stuff, if you can handle the early “Dr. Who”-ness of it all. [7/10]

 

The Addams Family: Morticia, the Writer

Once again, Wednesday and Pugsley are used as catalyst for a plot that otherwise doesn't involve them much. The two kids come home with the books their school has provided them with, ordinary fairy tales that demonize giants and goblins. Outraged by the content, Morticia sets out to write her own children's literature. She is soon absorbed in her new hobby, spending days at a time cranking out Addams-ified takes on classic kids tales. Gomez grows despondent without his wife and sets out to sabotage her burgeoning career, by rewriting the books before sending them off to the publisher. Said publisher turns out to be a con artist, asking outrageous prices from gullible would-be authors to publish their manuscripts before running off with the cash. Which only complicates matters more. 

“Morticia, the Writer” is kind of a weird episode. First off, it is over-reliant on the established running gags of these series. Right from the get-go, the inciting incident recalls how the very first episode of the series kicks off. This is the second episode since the new season started to reference the adjustable echo effect in the cave and Cousin Cackle. Both the fire pole, Gomez' passion igniting when his wife speaks French, his Zen Yogi habit, and Uncle Fester threatening to shoot someone in the back with his blunderbuss all reappear here as well. The episode also gets a minor detail of the established genealogy wrong too. Gomez refers to Fester as an “in-law,” despite the “Morticia's Romance” two-parter recently establishing Fester as Gomez' uncle. Weirder yet, this episode was written by Hannibal Coons and Harry Winkler, the same team that wrote “Morticia's Romance!”

I can only conclude that the duo were having an off-day when they composed this one. When the characters aren't re-enacting bits from previous episodes, they are acting a bit out of character. The premise of Gomez being separated from Morticia for a while, and getting so horny for his wife, that he's pushed to desperate measure is funny. However, I can't see the guy betraying her trust by re-writing her work behind her back like this. That the episode allows him to get away with this without facing any consequences, never truly considering Morticia's feelings about this scheme at all, rubs me the wrong way. There's also two extremely odd jokes early on, where Morticia refers to herself as an “Indian giver” and Gomez has an unexpected reaction to considering telling his children about the “birds and the bees.” Not really sure how to interpret those two and I'd rather not consider the connotations. I did like the pun about Morticia seeking out “D. Press” to publish her book and Lurch tucking Gomez into bed after he falls asleep in a random spot. [5/10]

Halloween 2024: October 4th

Mute Witness (1995)

In the waning days of my youth, the local mom-n-pop rental place closed its gates forever. I mourn for you still, Top 20 Video. The location then became the site of a massive liquidation sale for what must've been every indie video store in the area. I laid eyes on many weird, rare tapes during that time, many of which I didn't think to buy because I never imagined anyone would miss them.  I seem to recall seeing a lot of copies of "Mute Witness" on those shelves, suggesting to me that it wasn't much in demand at the time. I had never heard of the film before but its distinctive box art stuck in my brain. Years later, following the path of so many other VHS era obscurities before it, this title started to be praised as a hidden gem of the nineties. Naturally, it got the spiffy boutique label 4K remaster recently. A German co-production from a British director, "Mute Witness" was filmed in Moscow with a mostly Russian cast. I think that's a sufficiently Russian percentage for me to count this as my Horror World Tour entry for the Land of the Czars. 

An inexperienced nepo-baby director is filming a horror movie on a Moscow soundstage. His wife's sister, Billy, is working as the production's make-up artist. Billy, who is mute, accidentally gets locked in the studio overnight. That's when she spies two burly crew members filming what appears to be a home-made porno... Which then turns into a snuff film, when they slash the girl's throat. Horrified, Billy flees and hides from the men, barely escaping. She reports what she saw to the police but has all her evidence dismantled. However, Billy truly did see a real murder. The silent woman has stumbled into an international conspiracy of snuff and sex trafficking, run by sadistic Russian mobsters. As the killers pursue her still, she finds herself unable to trust anyone. 

Writer/director Anthony Waller first conceived of "Mute Witness" back in the eighties, creating a story around a single scene he serendipitously shot of Alec Guinness. The years of delays clearly gave Waller time to hone his craft. "Mute Witness" has a brilliant first act that is as tight as any complete features film I've seen. Once Billy sees the murder in the almost empty studio, the film becomes a series of scenes of her barely avoiding detection from the intimidating men. These sequences are frequently brilliantly shot from intriguing perspectives, that make a hallway loom out into the distance before or behind our imperiled heroine. Most impressive is a moment that extends the space before a door, perfectly capturing the feeling Billy is having of escape seeming just out-of-reach. She physically can't scream, suffering in silent terror as the murderers lurk above or behind her various hiding spots. I was impressed with how immediately the expressive cinematography, brilliant sound design, emotional score, and stylishly assembled sets drew me in. If "Mute Witness" had ended there, it would go down in genre history as one of the scariest horror shorts of all time. 

 

The film doesn't end there, of course. Billy escapes the studio, rescued by her director and sister, who call in the Moscow police. From that point on, "Mute Witness" strays away from horror into a more general crime thriller mode. More focus is put on the webs of deception the make-up artist finds herself caught in, criminal forces closing in on her. Waller still does everything he can to keep the tension up. He often succeeds. A sequence where Billy attempts to contact authorities through a text-to-voice device, while a burly Russian psycho meticulously drills through the screws in her lock, is fabulously suspenseful. The last third of the movie is a series of chase scenes, stand-offs, and double crosses that successfully keep the audience guessing. Hitchcock's espionage thrillers are clearly the inspiration here, Waller including more and more wry humor and a smattering of puckish sensuality as the film progresses. The twists are packed in until quite literally the final minute, in another attempt to never let the audience's heartbeat recover. "Mute Witness" never recaptures the pins-and-needles tension of its first half-hour but it's all extremely well done and breathlessly entertaining.

The moment when "Mute Witness" nearly goes off the rails is when the creepy dudes in the studio dismantle everything upsetting Billy saw in front of the police. It's a somewhat tedious scene, because the viewer obviously knows what she saw is real. There wouldn't be a movie if it wasn't. However, one minor plot point keeps this extended gaslighting scene from being dull. The only person who always believes Billy, who never doubts her, is her sister. The men in "Mute Witness" are all untrustworthy figures. The director is incompetent, the cops are crooked, the stagehands are psychos. "Mute Witness" steps back from making all its male figures evil or idiots. However, the story's one virtuous man is still suspicious, as he has to earn Billy's trust. Meanwhile, we never doubt the women being honest with each other. "Mute Witness" draws extensive suspense from its protagonist being a vulnerable woman who can't voice her own fears. It takes this further in one scene, sticking her in a bath when the killers kick in her door. The film operates as such a thrilling piece of fantastically engineered pulp that its blatantly obvious themes almost seem subtle. The idea remains persistent though: Any woman would be wise not to trust every strange guy she see. Moreover, she'll probably feel a lot safer around other women too. 

The person killed in the snuff film Billy sees is another woman not only because a bound, screaming, naked female is an encouraged sight in a low budget genre film. "Mute Witness" begins with a fake horror movie within the movie, in which a woman is stalked by a brutish man. As the camera pulls back to reveal the film crew, the idea that violence is less real if recorded by a camera is already introduced. The killers try to dissuade the cops by trotting out special effects. This theme comes back at the end, when an inability to distinguish fake violence from real violence proves to be common across all the movie's characters. We, the viewer, are also watching what we know is a fictional narrative. To fill such a story with interlocking layers of realities, where the characters are unaware of what death is real and what is fabricated, puts us in the same place as the protagonist. We doubt what is plainly in front of our eyes. Released a year before "Scream" would thoroughly dissect the slasher's corpse, "Mute Witness" can't help but feel like a post-mortem on the body count flick. The script challenges the supposed sexism of the horror genre, while playing with audience expectations for gory mayhem and interrogating our own disregard for on-screen violence. "If it was real, how would we react?" the central set-up asks. 

Whether "Mute Witness" grabs all the thematic balls it throws up in the air is debatable. Some of the script's headier ideas are lost in pursuit of thrilling suspense scenes. Still, this is a movie that is so effective at what it sets out to do that you can't call it anything but a raging success. "Mute Witness" sets out to move you to the edge of your seat and does exactly that. Marina Zudina makes Billy the kind of underdog any horror fan can root for, helping further sell the movie's suspense. It should've been the promising start of a fine career for Anthony Waller. Instead, he made "An American Werewolf in Paris" next and that was the end of that. Still, "Mute Witness" stands as a stylish, funny, clever, and thrilling fusion of prolonged tensions and post-Soviet paranoia. Moreover, the ideas concerning women, cinematic violence, and life in Moscow in the middle nineties make it a surprisingly rich experience. I suppose this is a hidden gem that actually earns that reputation. [8/10]

The Traveller (1979)

El Caminante

It is worth noting that Paul Naschy took on the role of El Hombre Lobo out of necessity, as another actor couldn't be found to fill the role. This is how the legend goes, anyway. That is how he got started on the path of becoming Spain's Lon Chaney Jr., eventually playing Dracula, Dr. Jekyll, a zombie overlord, a mummy and a hunchback too. Owing to their low budgets and exploitation movie content, Naschy's films were always likelier to play in a grindhouse than an arthouse. However, one wonders if more widespread respectability was something Naschy strived for. As the seventies went on, either out of a desire to leave the classic monster roles behind or chasing market trends, Naschy would star in a giallo, an "Exorcist" imitator, and a witch-hunting movie. Emerging from the tail-end of this period is one of the star's most interesting film, a historical drama/horror/social satire known in its native language as "El Caminante." Known variously as "The Traveller" or "The Devil Incarnate," the film represents Naschy's best attempt to fuse his classic horror sensibilities and any higher mind aspirations, with the required amounts of flesh and blood.

In medieval Spain, a man calling himself Leonardo walks the countryside. He comes across a man claiming to be a disgraced knight. After an argument, he kills him before stealing his clothes and gold. Shortly afterwards, he meets a blind man tormenting his servant, a boy named Tomas. Leonardo robs the man and takes the boy under his wing. The two travel the countryside, Leonardo teaching Tomas all of his wicked ways. He seduces wives, nuns, and peasant women. He robs from the rich and the poor alike. He murders whenever he sees fit. The more time Tomas spends with Leonardo, the clearer it becomes that the man may be the devil himself. And the devil doesn't keep friends for long before betraying them...

By this point in his career, Naschy was a full-blown auteur. If he starred in a movie, that usually meant he directed it too. (Often credited under his birth name, Jacinto Molina.) Naschy co-wrote “The Traveller” too, so we can assume he is the primary author of the film. Which reflects on its content in some funny ways. “El Caminante” sees the star playing a totally amoral, utterly unrepentant, rampaging id. Most of the film is devoted to him tricking people or beating them up, the audience often privy to Leonardo's mean-spirited thoughts as he plans to perform these heinous acts. Whenever he sees a beautiful woman, he immediately goes about seducing her, often giving her pleasure she's never felt before. The script specifies that the character has a big cock too, in case you were curious. A key moment has Leonardo pretending to be a mad man, as he urinates in front of a noblewoman and extensively gropes her breasts. This is a character that lives solely for hedonistic pleasure and never once considers the consequences of who he is harming. 

In less capable hands, this premise could have come off as a ridiculous ego trip. It's definitely still is that, a little bit. However, as much as “The Traveller” revels in Leonardo's bad behavior, it never has any illusions about him being a hero. When he humiliates a stuttering lord, it's a subversive violation of social hierarchies. Leonardo is no Robin Hood figure though. After giving the crippled wife of a farmer her first orgasm, he robs her, degrades her, and carves an inverted cross into her ass cheek. (An image so salacious, it wound up on most of the posters.) This is not a man to admire, not as an antihero or anything else. Considering Leonardo's heavily implied diabolic nature, this turns “The Traveler” into a twisted inversion of a traditional morality tale. Instead of being about a good samaritan, who wanders into town, sees a problem, and works to make it better, this guy shows up and does the most selfish, hurtful things he can. There is some juvenile glee in seeing the boundaries of medieval politeness crossed. This is evident in the scene where Leonardo and Tomas chase naked girls around in sped-up motion, the most obvious  indicator that Naschy was influenced by “A Clockwork Orange.” Ultimately, the script leaves no doubt that Leonardo is a monster. 

In fact, he might be the devil himself. “The Traveller” hints throughout that its villain protagonist is a Hellish emissary, sent to corrupt and destroy any soul he finds. The path he sets Tomas on, taking him from humble servant boy to a murderous criminal, suggests as much. Multiple times, Leonardo displays supernatural abilities of some sort. His eyes glow as he seduces the farmer's wife. The room is cast in an ominous red light as he seemingly heals a sick girl. While stirring up sin in a convent, he changes a portrait of a nun defying the devil into a pornographic tableau with only a look. This element of dark magical realism – in which Naschy plays such a bastard, he can change the properties of things around him – pushes the film fully into the realm of folk horror. By the last third, when Leonardo finally gets what is coming to him, it feels like the inevitable conclusion to a rambling legend. Even the devil can get away with it only for so long. 

While Naschy's films were often hampered by low budgets, rushed productions, and limited resources, more care was clearly taken with “The Traveller.” There is some crude acting or cheesy visual effects here and there. However, the movie also contains some striking imagery. The love scene with the crippled woman is elegantly shot. The most memorable visual in the film has Naschy strung up on a cross across from a large stone crucifix, throwing petty comments at the statue of Christ. Humorous in its gleeful amorality, but ultimately grim in its message, “The Traveller” is surely among the star/director's most ambitious film from a thematic perspective. Rather than remixing classic monster movie tropes, Naschy was trying to scratch at something about human – and demonic – nature here. His means fell short of his goals but the result is still a highly entertaining and intriguing motion picture. [8/10]

Unsolved Mysteries: Season 1, Episode 3

When first conceived, "Unsolved Mysteries" was television as an act of public service. The program was meant to draw national attention to true disappearances and unsolved homicides, in hopes of finding answers. However, the show quickly incorporated alleged paranormal "mysteries" into its format. This led to NBC's news department distancing themselves from the series and introducing a disclaimer that clarified it was "not a news program." By the third episode of its first regular season – aired two nights before Halloween, not coincidentally – "Unsolved Mysteries" was already devoting an entire hour to ghostly reports. Episodes like this, of course, form the backbone of the show's long-lived cult following. Fans often point to this third episode as featuring maybe the creepiest moments in the series' history.

Host Robert Stack, his voice always grave but a wry smirk often on his face, introduces the episode from the deck of the Queen Mary. The docked cruise ship's long history of supposed hauntings makes up the first segment. Later scenes cover otherworldly sightings and poltergeist activity in a New England hotel and a suburban home in Georgia. The episode's most notorious segment concerns the haunting of the Wisconsin Tallman family, who were terrorized by disturbing visions after purchasing an old bunk bed. 

Much like "In Search Of...," "Unsolved Mysteries'" horror content usually stemmed from its reenactments. This ghost episode is a good one, in that regard. Low-budget and hokey as they might be, sequences devoted to a man appearing and disappearing behind a woman on an escalator or ghostly footprints splashing by a pool do provide a mildly spooky feeling. When combined with the foreboding synth theme and Stack's gravelly narration, it's easy to imagine this creeping out impressible young viewers when watched all alone at night, in a dark room lit only by the glow of the TV. Though the scenes of alleged psychics and Dutch paranormal researchers grasping at straws are hard to take too seriously. 

A phantasmic head appearing in a kitchen or a bell rung by unseen forces aren't the most distressing of supernatural encounters, as sincere as the witnesses seem. The Tallman house scenes, on the other hand, are more unsettling. First off, the real people only appear as silhouettes, having declined to participate in the reenactments. That adds an already eerie feeling to a haunting story that is genuinely creepy. Children having persistent nightmares, mist floating across the floor, and voices whispering threats would make any family uncomfortable. The standout scene involves the father returning home from work at night, faced with a vision of the house being on fire and his metal lunchbox getting hurled across the room. The analog effects and howling sound design definitely make this a creepy moment. I find most supposedly true ghost stories underwhelming but, when the mom finally has enough and drags the kids out of the house, I don't blame her. I wouldn't put up with that shit either. 

Having jumped around multiple networks and seen several revivals, "Unsolved Mysteries" has now been officially distributed across many platforms. However, these episodes have been re-edited, often to remove more blatantly supernatural reports. If you want to see this ghost special in its original, untinkered-with form, you're going to have to watch a blurry VHS rip. Honestly, such a nostalgic format might be the ideal way to watch "Unsolved Mysteries" anyway. It reminds us of a time when we were less cynical and more inclined to believe in claims of the unknown. [7/10]

The Addams Family: Lurch and His Harpsicord 

Considering the Addams Family's butler tickling the ivories is one of the iconic images of the series, it's not surprising a whole episode was built around "Lurch and His Harpsicord." During one of Gomez and Morticia's daily dance routines, a museum curator named Mr. Belmont passes 0001 Cemetery Lane. Attracted by the music, he steps inside and mentions that Lurch's harpsicord is a valuable antique. The Addams immediately offer to donate it to the museum, free of charge. Lurch, however, is deeply distraught by the idea of being separated from his favorite instrument. After trying to find him another hobby doesn't work, Gomez and Fester offer to build him a new one. Japes ensue, though maybe not as you'd expect. 

Unsurprising given Lurch's placement in the title, this is another episode that capitalizes on Ted Cassidy's deadpan reactions. When told that they've donated his beloved harpsicord, Lurch's response is to slowly rise from his chair and intone "I quit." (A line that gets an amusing rejoinder.) The manservant trying out drumming, knitting, or attempting to smile all make good use of Cassidy's lumbering, grumbling comedic abilities. When the movers arrive to take the replacement keyboard, it results in one of the few times we've actually heard Lurch raise his voice. He really likes that harpsicord, you guys. 

It's an amusing set-up for an episode. Once again, this show gets the best laughs by keeping things mostly inside the family. Fester's response when told everyone loves Lurch or his use of a toothless saw show that Jackie Coogan has grown on me. Carolyn Jones also gets a few chuckles, showing Morticia doesn't like whatever passes for profanity on a sixties sitcom. Byron Foulger, as Belmont, is a decent straight man. The only real issue with this episode is it's somewhat rushed ending. They've got to stop wrapping these up with phone calls. [7/10]

Halloween 2023: October 4th

Terrifier (2016)

In this day and age, it has become increasingly difficult for a cult classic to emerge organically. So many films are pre-packaged as “cult movies,” with the kind of content designed to appeal to weirdo movie fans. Few of these end up breaking through, quickly being forgotten. In this respect, “Terrifier” isn't that different from a hundred other indie horror movies that come out every year. It's a slasher throwback with a retro synth score and over-the-top gore. Yet, somehow, “Terrifier” really did start to grow a cult following totally on its own. Slowly, I started to see fan art and bootleg merchandise of Art the Clown pop up over the course of several years. Now it's at the point where Art is already being accepted into the pantheon of modern horror icons. In spite of its passionate following, I was reluctant to watch “Terrifier,” owing to a lot of negative press I had read about it. Well, the time has now come for me to judge on this one for myself.

Tara and Dawn are winding down their Halloween night, stopping into a pizza place for a late night bite to eat. They are harassed by a silent man, dressed as a clown and carrying a garbage bag. After the clown is kicked out of the restaurant – for shitting all over the bathroom walls – Tara and Dawn return to their car... To find the tires slashed. As they wait for Tara's sister, Victoria, to pick them up, Tara walks over to a near-by derelict apartment building to use the restroom. Art the Clown returns, abducting Dawn and pursuing Tara through the dingy apartment. And so begins a night of terror, Art relentlessly chasing Tara and then Victoria, brutally murdering everyone who gets in his way and taking sadistic glee in their suffering.

The feature length “Terrifier” clearly represents an attempt by Damien Leone to cleave the slasher formula down to its barest essentials. The plot is as simple as can be, being devoted to little more than a killer chasing his targets through an isolated location and killing everyone he encounters. Most every trope of the slasher movie is dispensed with, save for the central conflict between murderer and final girl and the copious gore. While simplifying the premise, “Terrifer” maximizes the gore and the tension. Art's executions of his victims are brutally violent while the stalking sequences are protracted for as much sustained suspense as possible. Tara, Victoria, and even minor characters all hide from Art for extended periods, the audience kept waiting for the next exceedingly gruesome burst of gore that is sure to come.

In this sense, “Terrifier” is not really a homage to the eighties heyday of the slasher film. Leone keeps the pulsating synth score from the short film but ditches the VHS scan lines. The interest is not in going over the clichés and aesthetics of the subgenre again. By prioritizing raw terror and savage gore over everything else, “Terrifier” creates a distinctly mean-spirited atmosphere. Art's victims suffer. They scream in agony as he rips them apart, human bodies rendered in many different ways over the short run time. While most slasher movies set out to provide comfy, campy cheap thrills, “Terrifier” is clearly going for something with a harder edge. Art skins his victims, bashes heads in, eats their skin, and – in the film's most notorious moment – saws a woman from her groin and straight through her skull. This is a movie that brutalizes the audience more than it entertains. 

And to what purpose? This is always the question I ask when watching a so-called “extreme” horror movie. Despite working with an obviously low budget, Damian Leone is clearly a talented filmmaker. There are several well orchestrated shots, such as a man's shadow cast over a cowering woman or good use of lighting. The grungy abandoned building setting provides an undeniably gritty feel, adding to the uncomfortable ambiance of the entire film. Many scenes, such as an encounter between Art and an unwell homeless woman, makes it clear that there's a particular vision behind the film. “Terrifier” isn't dumb and that makes its wanton cruelty harder and more troubling to excuse.

Cause, here's the thing with “Terrifier:” Art the Clown is an asshole. He's not a menacing brute with a tragic backstory, like Jason or Leatherface. We learn nothing about Art throughout the film. He's not a lovable smart-ass, like Chucky. Art does comical japes – like honking a bike horn or riding a little tricycle around – but it's just to amuse himself. David Howard Thornton's performance vacillates between fittingly exaggerated miming and grim, psychopathic stares. Yet Art's antics seem designed to intentionally frustrate slasher movie conventions. When a final girl seems to best him, he pulls out a gun and shoots her. There's no ironic punishment, campy glee, or even twisted moral justification for his killing spree.  Even his final act is seemingly done to rob the audience of a cathartic vanishing of evil. 

Instead, Art is a conduit for pure sadistic malice. He doesn't just shoot an attempted heroine once. He does it over and over again. He doesn't just decapitate someone but slowly carves their head off. Obviously, “Terrifier” is as much effects reel as it is movie, much attention paid to its elaborate, latex executions. Yet the film's characters aren't just bodies to be torn apart. Tara and Dawn have a likable rapport. Victoria is an ideal final girl, smart and determined to survive. Even the minor characters, like the exterminator that helps Tara out or the aforementioned homeless woman, clearly had some thought put into them. Which makes their unforgiving dismembering all the more upsetting. And that's the idea, I'm sure. Horror movies are supposed to upset us, right? Yet the way the movie treats Art like a typical slasher movie anti-hero – a larger-than-life movie monster that we can root for in a twisted way – when he's actually a massive prick rubs me the wrong way. 

Like I said, the care Damien Leone takes with creating “Terrifier's” world and characters shows he's not dumb. Which is why I don't believe him when he dismisses the claims of misogyny against the film. Art carved sexist slogans into a woman's skin in the short film. The film's full circle ending makes it clear that its heroine is left in a hopeless situation. And the infamous bone-saw to the pussy scene speaks for itself. Leone and his film knew what they were doing. These scenes are meant to provoke people, women especially. Art is a misogynist who reserves his most agonizing tortures for females. “Terrifier,” whose outlook seemingly reflects the brutalist and heartless outlook of its villain, kind of seems like it wants us to treat Art like he's Freddy or the Leprechaun. A goofy prankster, enacting far-out vengeance in a cartoonish world. When he's actually closer to Richard Speck or Paul Bernardo, a sexual-sadist who only takes joy in other people's suffering.

I'm not opposed to these kind of things being in a film. Hell, I'm a big fan of the “Wolf Creek” series, which similarly mines queasy thrills out of hopeless violence and a repellent villain. But Mick Taylor seems like he could really exist, while being a mythic representation of the indifference of nature. Art the Clown is a fantastical cartoon villain who represents nothing more than an evil clown. I'm not going to say “Terrifier” is a bad movie. Honestly, it's easier to argue it's a good one. If nothing else, it's a well-made film that, I believe, succeeds in its goal of unsettling and thrilling the audience while bringing something new to the slasher template. Yet its in-your-face edginess, deafeningly nihilistic tone, and uneasy attitudes towards its mass murderer mostly just pissed me off in a way that I don't find especially compelling or intriguing. Also, it could have utilized its Halloween setting a whole lot more. [6/10]

The Werewolf Vs. The Vampire Woman (1970)

La Noche de Walpugis

Throughout these various Halloween marathons I've done, I've watched only two Paul Naschy movies. The multi-hyphenated talent more-or-less got Spain's horror industry going again in the seventies. Over the course of a career that stretched on for over one hundred credits, Naschy played just about all the classic monster movie characters. Yet his trademark role would be Waldemar Daninsky, a count cursed to become a werewolf and always return to life. Naschy played this Wolfman throughout twelve movies. The most successful, and still the most critically acclaimed, of the long-running series was 1970's “La Noche de Walpurgis.” Presumably because us dumb-ass Americans don't know what Walpurgis Night is, it was released over here under the far more salacious title of “The Werewolf Vs. the Vampire Woman.” 

Coroners dig two silver bullets out of Waldemar Daminsky's corpse, reviving him and beginning his lycanthropic rampage again. He moves into an isolated chateau in the Spanish countryside with his insane sister, searching for a legendary silver cross that can supposedly end his suffering. Simultaneously, college student Elvira and her friend Genevieve are in the same area. They are searching for the tomb of Wandesa Nadasdy, a medieval countess said to be involved in witchcraft and vampirism. They encounter and befriend Waldemar, finding the tomb soon afterwards. Removing the cross, the countess is revived. She begins a rampage across the countryside, turning Genevieve into a bloodsucker. As the titular witches' sabbath approaches, her power grows and Waldemar wolfs out more often, leading to a confrontation. 

In its best moments, “Walpurgis Night” does summon up some suitably spooky Gothic atmosphere. When the Countess and the other vampires are on the prowl, director Leon Klimovsky utilizes slow-motion photography. When combined with a soundtrack composed of moans and shrieks, and a generous amount of fog lining the ground, the effect is genuinely a bit eerie. Hammer horror is clearly the main inspiration for Naschy and Klimovsky here. The shots of the Countess, in her distinctive black robes, digging herself out of the ground or flashing her fangs scratch a similar itch. The locations used for the film, stony chateaus and aged tombs, further help solidify this classic horror ambiance. 

While the film does occasionally reach the heightened levels of uncanny dreaminess it clearly strives for, more often, “Walpurgis Night” is the campy exploitation flick its American title suggests. Shortly after coming back to life, Waldemar turns into a werewolf and kills a random woman. This leads to a shot of blood running down her naked breasts. That's just the most prominent example of the movie's trashy monster theatrics. A random zombified monk shows up, a full year before “Tomb of the Blind Dead” would make such revenants a common feature of Spanish horror. There's a cheesy decapitation, a dungeon full of chains, and several Satanic rituals. For what it's worth, Paul Naschy is quite good at howling and prowling. The Wolfman make-up isn't bad either, a shaggy update of Lon Chaney's look. That he drools so much is a nice touch. 

When discussing the previous Naschy movies I've seen, I noted that coherent narratives was not a common feature of the star's vehicles. “La Noche de Walpurgis” is no different in that regard. Elvira is suspicious of Waldemar at first but Genevieve dismisses her fears. After a crazy woman and a zombie show up, Elvira seems a lot less concerned. Maybe this is because she's falling in love with the Count, in a romantic subplot that is not exactly convincing. (And leads to a hilariously languid love scene.) Other characters ramble in and out of the plot, such as a detective and a cab driver from the town. The most random of these encounters is a guy who shows up and confronts Daminsky, without any further introduction. All of these scenes feel like padding on the way to the promised – and over very quickly – title bout. 

Despite its obvious flaws, I did enjoy “Walpurgis Night.” There's a certain charm to the schlockiness here, a clear respect and love for classic horror tropes, that I don't detect in, say, “Vampyros Lesbos.” You get the impression that Naschy loved doing this stuff. By the way, it seems the dubbed “Werewolf Vs. the Vampire Woman” cut of the movie is in the public domain. However, before you watch the copies streaming on Tubi and other places, know that they are missing ten minutes and feature prints so dark and grainy they are almost indecipherable. Pick up the Vinegar Syndrome Blu-Ray instead, if you inclined to give this cheesy bit of monster-filled nonsense a look. [7/10]

Night Gallery: You Can’t Get Help Like That Anymore

The second of the 21st episode of “Night Gallery's” second season imagines a future very similar to the mid-seventies. With one differences: Highly advance robots, that look perfectly human, can be purchased to fill the roles of maids, cooks, and other laborers. “You Can't Get Help Like That Anymore” begins with such a model being returned to the manufacturers, extensively damaged. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Fulton, demand a refund. Yet it's clear to the engineer that built the machine that the maid robot was brutalized and beaten. We are then shown the aftermath of a party that resulted in these injuries, which suggest the maid robot might be more than it was programmed to be.

“You Can't Get Help Like That Anymore” is one of “Night Gallery” episodes that Rod Serling wrote himself. You can see the writer's penchant for social commentary clearly in the episode. The help in this story might be a literal object but, one imagines, the Fultons would treat her as such even if she was flesh and blood. When the robotic maid resists Mr. Fulton's sexual advances, Mrs. Fulton blames her. Even though she's a literal robot. When the machine dare defend itself with sharp, verbal barbs, it enrages both of the rich owners. The parallels are clear: The dehumanizing effect of toiling under spoiled, cruel upper-class makes robots of all of us. Those in power will always abuse those under them and bristled at any attempt to establish their god-given humanity. 

The episode does a good job of conveying these themes, at least at first. Lana Wood is well-cast as the robotic maid, affecting a properly mechanical body language while still making it clear that there's more to the character. Cloris Leachman is so perfectly vindictive as Mrs. Fulton, cutting the figure of a total, entitled bitch that doesn't care about anyone else around her. The direction –  from Jeannot Szwarc, who handled many segments of “Night Gallery” before making some notable features  – is nicely moody. I like how Wood has the Dracula lighting on her eyes. The twist ending suggests that the workers will have their day against their oppressors, though I wish it made that point a little more cleanly. Considering how brutal the episode was up to that point, a more fatalistic ending perhaps might've been necessary. [7/10]

The Munsters: Underground Munster / The Treasure of Mockingbird Heights

“Underground Munster” begins with Herman scolding Spot. The dragon runs away from home and sneaks into the sewer system under Mockingbird Heights. This leads to reports of a monster underground, causing Herman to go into the sewer himself to retrieve the pet. That just leads to more supposed monster sightings, forcing the local mayor to take extreme actions. In “The Treasure of Mockingbird Heights,” Herman and Grandpa stumble upon a secret room in the basement while looking for a fuse box. What they find is an inscription, promising that a pirate's treasure is buried somewhere near-by. Shenanigans ensue. 

“Underground Munster” has a funny premise, contrasting a typical family problem – a pet runs away – with the Munsters' macabre appearances and habits. When Marilyn shows up at the county office with Spot's over-sized collar, or Herman attempts to discipline the dragon, that got good chuckles out of me. The episode takes this idea to even wackier places as it goes on. Some of these bits are definitely a little shrill. Such as Grandpa and Lily speeding through the streets to rescue Herman or, of course, the exaggerated reactions of fright to the Munsters. I did like the bit about Eddie “chewing his nails.” The episode also includes an odd political subplot, of Grandpa attempting to highjack the local election with a machine. That's best utilized in the misleading opening but comes back again at the end, with uninspired results. 

Some of my favorite episodes of “The Munsters” revolves around Herman and Grandpa going off on wacky little adventures together. “The Treasure of Mockingbird Height” delivers on just that, Herman and Grandpa bickering and being childish goofballs as they wander through their own basement and dig up the backyard. Considering the surplus of fog in the backyard and the dungeon-like hidden room, this is an episode also awash in classic horror ambiance. Continuing the theme of pairing characters off, Lily and Marilyn also get some amusing interactions as they watch the men of the house make fools of themselves. The second half of the episode is not as much fun, as Herman and Grandpa get increasingly suspicious of each other over the treasure. The ending admittedly surprised me. Uncharacteristically, Eddie gets one of the best gags in the episode. [Underground Munster: 6/10 / The Treasure of Mockingbird Heights: 7/10]