Halloween 2025: September 17th

 

The Toxic Avenger (2023)

Troma Entertainment has always prided themselves on being crude, ridiculous, offensive, salacious and independent. Despite that, a Hollywood-ized version of their trademark character has been in development for thirty years. Shortly after the hyper-violent and perverse “Toxic Avengers” films were inexplicably turned into a kid-friendly cartoon and toy line, New Line Cinema bought the movie rights to “Toxic Crusaders.” In 2006, Lloyd Kaufman would publish a novel version of the story that promised a big budget remake was in development. By 2010, Steve Pink of “Hot Tub Time Machine” had signed on to direct, Arnold Schwarzenegger was in talks to play Toxie's mentor, and a PG-13 rating was promised. Both had dropped out by 2016, with DreamWorks animation director Conrad Vernon now attached. Two years later, Legendary Pictures acquired the rights with Macon Blair writing and directing. The previously sanitized adaptations were discarded, as Blair promised to make a movie that was true to Toxie's roots. He achieved this too well, it seemed. Despite starring recognizable actors, the reboot's content made distributors nervous. After two years on the festival circuit, Cineverse put the movie in thousands of theaters without an MPAA rating. This did not replicate the unrated success the company had with “Terrifer 3” last year but at least Blair and company can rest assured that they made an uncompromising re-imagining of “The Toxic Avenger.”

The city of St. Roma's Village, New Jersey is owned and run by pharmaceutical mega-corp BTH. Their drugs give customers horrible diseases. Their factories pump chemicals into the water supplies. The townsfolk live in fear of the mob, who directly work with BTH CEO, Bob Garbinger. Winston Gooze is a humble janitor for BTH, a single dad trying to raise his step-son, Wade. Winston learns that he has a terminal illness. Treatment exists but, of course, his insurance doesn't cover it. Desperate, he tries to talk to Garbinger at a company event only to be kicked out. With no other options, he dips his mop in some caustic chemicals and tries to rob his work place. He gets mixed up with a whistleblower attempting to expose the company and winds up shot in the head by BTH's personal hit squad/nu-metal band. His body is dumped into the chemical infested lake, which interacts with his tumors in a unique way. Winston is transformed into a hideously deformed monster hero of superhuman size and strength. Acts of vigilante justice make him beloved among the populace and hated by BTH. Winston must team up with the revolutionary if he hopes to expose the company, stop Garbinger's evil scheme to steal his blood, and save Wade. 

That major studios were determined for so many years to make a proper superhero epic out of "The Toxic Avenger" is especially bizarre. The Troma brand is built upon a particular aesthetic and attitude that has grown only more willfully abrasive as the years have gone on. Despite having the backing of Legendary's private equity money, Macon Blair and his team have done a shockingly good job of maintaining the maximalist Troma tone. This "Toxic Avenger" is packed with bodily dismemberment, profanity laced dialogue, freakish practical creature effects, a fatal fisting, and includes one (1) urinating mutated monster dong. The movie is intentionally cheap looking, with a lot of janky digital effects interacting with all that fake blood and rubber intestines. The script includes the kind of anti-capitalist humor Lloyd Kaufman is known for, depicting its corporate CEO as a cartoonishly corrupt, self-involved man-child who is openly in cahoots with organized crime. There are vague shout-outs to hot button topical issues like cancel culture, police brutality, nerd entitlement, and social media. More than anything else, Blair's movie is unendingly loud, self-aware, hyperactive, and obnoxious. It's never as crude as a home-grown Troma movie would be. The reboot is noticeably short on sex, nudity, violence against women, paraphilias, and slurs. However, this still looks and feels like a Troma movie with some semblance of a budget that inexplicably stars actors you've actually heard of. 

As well defined as the Troma brand is, most of the movies featuring their logo are also acquired productions made by lunatics far outside the Hollywood system. Films like “Redneck Zombies” or “Beware! Children at Play” are also packed full of bizarre digressions and weird in-jokes. The kind of dumb shit that makes the director and his friends giggle that anyone outside that social circle – the entire audience – will not understand. That would likely be removed by the creative process of a bigger production. Surprisingly, Blair's “Toxic Avenger” captures this feeling as well. The little brother of the main villain is a hunchback named Fritz, a Universal Monsters reference, that inexplicably manages an Insane Clown Posse/Slipknot-like rap/rock group. These guys are a surprisingly big part of the film, their individual band members getting defining gimmicks. Like the corpse paint wearing DJ who speaks in an indecipherable language subtitled with obscure symbols. Or the parkour dancer dressed like the Zodiac Killer. In his adventure, Toxie also meets a raving homeless man who is prone to elaborate rants or going on unrelated digressions.

It's weird and specific in a way a mainstream superhero movie assuredly is not. Did I personally find it amusing? Sometimes. Blair's script is so loaded down with screaming and swearing that it becomes overwhelming immediately. The reboot also replicates Lloyd Kaufman's nihilistic world view, in which the entire planet is a corrupt and stupid place pressing down on a handful of decent people. (Who are also ultra-violent mutants, usually.) However, there is enough pointed weirdness here that I chuckled a fair amount. A running gag that Winston's exact condition is never specified is well done. Toxie's pee having an acidic quality comes back around nicely. The comedic timing is too often off. Decent gags, like an attempted seduction going awry in all the right ways or the reveal of what's under a particular mask, feel off-balance in how they are delivered. However, I did laugh a fair number of times, so I suppose I got my money's worth.

What might keep the movie truly afloat is a cast trying awfully hard to invest this utterly manic material with some heart. Kevin Bacon, as the Peter Thiel-like villain, focuses hard on bulging out his eyes and being perpetually awful. That's the tone a lot of the supporting players go with, probably because it's what the material demanded of them. However, Peter Dinklage is utterly sincere as Winston. He's such a kind-hearted guy trying his best – if beaten down by a relentlessly cruel world – that you kind of don't buy his transformation into a blood-thirsty do-gooder. Jacob Tremblay, as the ambiguously autistic step-son, is game for the crazier elements of the script while acting like he's in a far tamer film. Weirdly, the relationship between Toxie and his kid is the heart of the film and that element works surprisingly well. It certainly works better than the subplot of Taylour Paige as the left-wing agitator seeking to expose the evil corporation. That entire element of the film is also played largely straight and never quite integrates with the rest of the story. 

What the film noticeably is not is a parody of modern superhero movies. The only time the reboot stops to comment on the formulas popularized by Marvel is in a piss-take on the entire concept of a post-credit scene. Which is also maybe the best joke in the whole movie. I can see why absolutely every big distributor looked at this film and passed on it. Not only because its content. Despite its proudly trumpeted unrated status, I only think two gags truly exists outside the boundaries of modern, R-rated gross-out comedies. No, the movie is also kind of a slapdash mess, never as funny as it wants to be or as bold as it needs to be. However, I'm still glad this motion picture exists. I laughed and smiled a good number of times throughout its runtime. If nothing else, the sheer unlikeliness of a “Toxic Avenger” movie starring actors that have been nominated for Emmys, Golden Globes, and Teen Choice Awards is a novelty that's hard to overlook. I would assuredly take this messy, off-balanced, and clearly personal take on Toxie over whatever a remake squeezed through the mainstream blockbuster meat grinder would've looked like. Better an off-kilter half-success than the face of independent adolescent punk-rock horror/comedy splatter becoming more slop for the streaming factory. [7/10]
 

Spellcaster (1988)

Recently, I had to make the extremely heartbreaking decision to cut SiriusXM from my monthly budget, deciding I can no longer justify paying for radio. This means I had to say goodbye to 1st Wave, the station devoted to “classic alternative and New Wave.” Truly, how will I get through my daily commute without hearing “Never Say Never” by Romeo Void and “Major Tom (Coming Home)” by Peter Schilling every morning? Jokes aside, I did grow fond of that station's on-air personalities during my years of being subscribed to the service. Especially recent Hollywood Walk of Fame recipient Richard Blade. Best known for his role as a DJ on influential and beloved California radio station KROQ, Mr. Blade did make a few attempts to break into other branches of the media over the years. Among his handful of mostly music-related acting credits is “Spellcaster,” a Charles Band production from 1988 that features most of the things you associate with Charles Band productions filmed in the eighties. In other words, the Halloween Horror-fest Blog-a-Thon has presented me with an unlikely chance to put a face to the accented, high-energy voice I'm now no longer hearing on a regular basis. 

Presumably because they don't have parents, orphans Jackie and Tom are working in a crappy fast food restaurant. They recently entered a contest through Rock-TV, their favorite music video centric cable station, and are elated to see they've been selected. The two are flown out to an obscure corner of Europe, to a sprawling castle owned by the mysterious Mr. Diablo. People from all over the world have been invited to participate. Video jockey Rex seems to be hosting the event, partially as an advertising effort for pop star Cassandra Castle. (Whose career is taking a downturn lately because of her alcoholism.) A check for a million dollars has been hidden somewhere in the castle. The first person that can find it, gets to keep it. However, it soon becomes apparent that something unusual is happening here. People are starting to disappear or act oddly. As the weekend goes on, Jackie and Tom are witness to bizarre monster emerging from the shadows and attacking people. It turns out that the contest is connected to Cassandra and the unseen Mr. Diablo. 

If the internet is to be believed, “Spellcaster” would begin production in 1986. That's right around the time Charles Band bought an actual fucking castle in the countryside of Rome, a 12th century structure known as Castello di Giove. This is also around the same time that Empire Pictures, his then production company, started to collapse into financial disarray. This might explain why “Spellcaster” has what can be called a loose plot. The film is largely devoted to the various characters wandering around the castle, trying to have sex with each other until some sort of monster appears to kill or attack them. The biggest problem with this set-up is that none of the characters are all that distinct. The easiest way to tell the various players in “Spellcaster” apart is by their accents. There's a French girl, an English girl obsessed with hunting, a sleazy Italian guy. The difference in voices is especially important as several of the women are varying shades of blonde, making it easy to mix them up. Aside from their nationalities, the cast members are given few other defining characteristics. You know things are bad when the token fat guy, obsessed with food, is one of the more fleshed-out participants. 

The impression that “Spellcaster” was an almost improvisational production is also supported by its creature effects. John Carl Buechler was Band's go-to monster guy during this period, supervising the creation of many slimy, wrinkly, weird creatures for motion pictures ike “Ghoulies,” “Troll,” and “TerrorVision.” Those films had some sort of unifying visions behind their monstrosities though. In “Spellcaster,” the cast members explore the castle until some sort of threat emerges from the shadows or curses them. There are plenty of cool and fun ideas here. A sequence where a large, wooden throne springs to life and devours the person sitting in it isn't bad. A suit of armor comes to life. Upon being decapitated, a flying, flesh-y worm beast pops out.  A painting depicting a horned creature embracing a maiden leaps into reality, providing the film with its most comic book-like beastie. I can enjoy all of this stuff for its ingenuity, the gooey and slightly cartoonish latex and rubber being a joy to behold in its own right. But it would've been nice if there was more rhyme or reason to the how and why of these things appearing. 

Richard Blade plays the VJ, Rex, a character that is essentially a rather sleazy horn-dog who seems most interested in getting into the pop star's pants than the contest he's supposed to be hosting. Said pop star is portrayed by Bunty Bailey, most famous for her starring role in a-ha's “Take On Me” music video. The above-the-title talent in “Spellcaster” is Adam Ant, formally of the Ants and probably the most visible of the New Romantic style in the early eighties. All of which suggests that “Spellcaster” was designed to cash-in on the popularity of MTV at the time. This forms the closest thing the movie has to an actual point. Clearly, Cassandra Castle is miserable about something. She's so dependent on booze that she licks it up off the floor at some point. Throughout the film, people are tempted by the offer of money, sex, or fame. When Jackie finally confronts Diablo in the last ten minutes – the only time Mr. Ant is actually on-screen – he is quickly revealed as a Luciferian figure of some sort. Yes, he purchases souls in exchange for the fulfillment of fantasies in the most diabolical of ways. The observation that the entertainment industry, and the music world especially, is comparable to a deal with the devil is nothing new. “Spellcaster” certainly doesn't have any fresh thoughts on the idea, the epilogue leaving the viewer unsure of how these soul-selling agreements work. It remains the sole semi-coherent premise in a movie that feels more like a bunch of unrelated ideas tossed together.

“Spellcaster” was directed by Rafal Zielinski. This was his first horror movie, as he seemed to specialize in ribald farces like the “Screwballs” trilogy or “Recruits” before this. You can still tell that titty comedies is what Zielinski had experience with. Aside from the many goofy touches in the film, an air of horniness floats over all of “Spellcaster.” Not the fun kind either. There's at least two sequences of a woman luring a man in with a sexy shower or bath before pushing him out of her bedroom, leaving him sexually frustrated. Later, one of the rejected men gets more insistent in demanding sexual services from a random female. There's also a scene where some rotting mummies yank down the top of a body double clearly bustier than the actress she's posing as. I guess we can assume the film is criticizing men who feel entitled to women's bodies. The entire movie is a bit too leering and corny to accept that. Yes, one can't help but declare this to be one of those old eighties movies that come across as rather “Rape-y” to modern eyes. 

Intended for release in 1987, “Spellcaster” got caught up in Empire's money problems. The movie would sneak out onto TV in 1989 before a VHS release followed in 1992. By which point, the extremely eighties aesthetic of the entire production must have seemed quite dated. I don't know what Adam Ant was up to by then but it certainly wasn't burning up the charts. Ant's character mostly appears as a set of hands vamping around a crystal ball, suggesting Band was only able to get the pop star for a day or two of filming. This exposes “Spellcaster” as another low-budget rip-off job. (Also apparent in the song that plays over the end credits, which definitely was not sung by Adam Ant but could be mistaken for him if you aren't paying attention.) There is a certain charm to its goofier touches and those rubbery monster effects. The film simply doesn't hold together as anything but a handful of set-pieces with a lot of padding otherwise though. Not Richard Blade's best work, in other words. [5/10]

In Search Of...: Moon Madness

Last year, I declared “In Search Of...” to be, for me personally, the most relaxing television series that could conceivably be called “horror.” Which does not mean that the show didn't tap into the same sort of hysterical paranoia and doom-saying as any of today's pseudo-scientific, quasi-documentary programs. A typical such example, identifiable as from the later seasons because of Leonard Nimoy's uneven mustache, is the episode “Moon Madness.” It sees “In Search Of...” examining the long-held belief that the full moon causes people to act in erratic ways. The episode presents Arnold L. Lieber's 1978 book “The Lunar Effect: Biological Tides and Human Emotions” as the main evidence for the scientific credibility of this often-discussed idea. Lieber presented the theory that, since the Moon's cycle can effect the planet's tide, it can also effect the level of water in our bodies. He supposedly correlated the crime statistics in his city with the new and full moons, as proof of this idea. 

For its credit, “In Search Of...” does bring on lauded astronomy professor, and founding member of the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry, George Abell. Abell and his extraordinary beard expose this idea as bullshit. Humans are so tiny and minute that any conceivable effect the moon's gravitational pull could have on our brain chemistry is negligible. A mosquito on the shoulder exerts more gravitational weight on us than the moon does. Despite that – as Nimoy's most famous character would say – highly logical conclusion, “Moon Madness” is still packed with alarming recounting of homicides, robberies, and general criminal acts, that the script insists rises and falls with the waning and waxing of the lunar body. These factoids are paired with footage of erratic urban activity, emergency rooms, and newspaper headlines. Any kid watching this half-hour when it was new could conceivably be tricked into believing that the moon was coming to fucking kill them.

The interviews with Mr. Lieber are supplemented by footage of him looking at very important seeming charts, computers, and case files. Still, it's obvious that wouldn't make for much of an exciting half-hour of television. That's when “In Search Of...” does what it did best and bring up a bunch of barely related but fascinating digressions. A sequence is devoted to the idea that primitive men hunted better during the full moon. That their female counterparts noticed their fertility changing on a monthly cycle, not unlike the moon's. The story of 18th century Edinburgh cabinet maker William Brodie, who was a deacon by day and a burglar by night, is brought up. Especially his claim that his unseemly behavior was caused by moon madness. Even Nimoy's narration must dismiss this idea by saying the jury was unconvinced, while bringing up the unlikely possibility that Brodie had dissociative identity disorder. We can reasonably say that Brodie did inspire Robert Louis Stevenson to write “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”  

To horror fans, that last point stems from probably the most interesting element of “Moon Madness.” Naturally, the episode must discuss the myth of the werewolf. This is paired with Nimoy lurking around a shadowy forest at night and footage of a hairy wolfman stalking the moors. As far as I can tell, that footage was shot specifically for “In Search Of...” and isn't from any movie. The episode also concludes with what I found to be its most amusing moment. That would be a digressions about Georges  Méliès' “A Trip to the Moon.” Nimoy strangely refers to the film as a cautionary tale, calling the famous shot of a face in the moon “demonic.” Really? You sure about that, Leonard? This leads to a hilarious monologue about the Apollo moon mission and how it was actually a moment of earthly peace and brotherhood, in opposition to the idea that moon causes madness. What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I mean that in as complimentary a manner as possible. I love this stupid shit. [7/10]

 

The Addams Family: Morticia & Gomez vs. Fester & Grandmama

Awkward as this one's title might be, it does point towards this being one of the few episodes of “The Addams Family” that gives all the main cast members something to do. Gomez hears that a bad storm dubbed Hurricane Zsa-Zsa is blowing in on the cost. It's the perfect romantic circumstances for him and Morticia to have a second honeymoon, retreating to the same rickety hotel they visited years prior. A problem emerges, however. Recent incidents with dynamite and wrestling alligators has caused the parents to worry Uncle Fester and Grandmama might be spoiling Wednesday and Pugsley. They seek out a governess to watch the kids while they are gone. This greatly insults the uncle and grandmother, who enact a series of petty rebellions against the rest of the family. Upon arriving at their dilapidated vacation resort, Morticia realizes that she grabbed the governess' bag instead. Upon seeing what is in Miss Thud's bag, the parents begin to doubt her abilities after all. 

“Morticia & Gomez vs. Fester & Grandmama” – that makes this sound like a legal battle themed episode – does pack in some fine sight gags. After Fester and Grandmama get insulted, they paint a line down the middle of the house, separating the home in two. “The Munsters” did this joke too. However, this does set-up some funny moments. Such as when Lurch is asked to split the newspapers between the rival factions, which quickly proves overwhelming for the butler. I'm impressed with how long that joke goes on. There's also a good, throwaway gag where Fester thumps on his chest a few times, producing different sounds. Instead of the governess being horrified by the Addams' style, she is thoroughly into it. Ms. Thudd considers it cozy and, perhaps, might actually be more harsh than the Addams. She bosses Lurch around too. There's also a nicely random bit where a suit of armor starts coughing after Gomez tosses his cigar into its helmet. 

That suit of armor appears in an earlier scene, where Thing pops out of its hatch. I previously speculated that the boxes Thing appears out of contain portals of some sort, allowing the hand creature to leap around the house. Now I'm beginning to suspect that Thing can generate these wormholes itself. Another reoccurring observation I've had about “The Addams Family” is John Astin and Carolyn Jones' very real chemistry. The way she caresses his face here seems rather intimate. There's a great bit about him mistaking her cries of concern for pleas for him to embrace her. Once again, I'm a bit surprised at how clearly sexy these two's interactions were allowed to get. Finally, this episode reveals that the Addams' home has a mot with at least one alligator in it. I don't see the mot in any of the exterior shots of the house and a later line of dialogue confirms it being in the basement. Perhaps Thing is not an eldritch entity and it's the Addams' home itself that is non-euclidean in nature? [7/10]

Halloween 2024: October 22nd

Diablo Rojo PTY (2019)

The genesis of this year's Horror Around the World series began a few years back, when I randomly decided to select a horror movie from every country that has made one. The list is probably longer than you'd guess. It would seem, once a truly independent cinematic tradition begins in a country, it's only a matter of time before monsters or shadows emerge. I would like to think this is because there's something universal about the need to be scared, to confront the dark side. That horror is typically cheap to produce and has wide commercial appeal is probably a bigger factor. Either way, a lot of countries have produced their first horror films in the last ten years. If the list of Panamanian films on Wikipedia is anything to go by, the Southern most stretch of Central America wouldn't begin to regularly produce films until about twenty years ago. More motion pictures have been made in Panama in the last decade than in all the proceeding ones. In 2019, somebody finally set out to make what has been trumpeted as Panama's first horror movie, "Diablo Rojo PTY." 

Miguel drives a Diablo Rojo – colorfully decorated and independently owned buses that serve the lesser metropolitan areas of Panama – with Teo acting as his el secretario. The two struggle to make a living as the local authorities put more pressure on the bus owners. After a night of drinking, Miguel is kissed by a strange young woman. Afterwards, the bus is pulled over by two cops after nearly crashing into a spectre of the same girl. A monster appears and mangles one of the cop's hands, forcing the party to flee deeper into the Chiriqui jungle. They continue to be pursued and haunted by a band of infant-devouring brujas. After the bus runs out of gas, the quartet take shelter in a church. There, Miguel discovers he has a personal connection to the priest, as well as the otherworldly girl that is after him. The deeper into the jungle they go, the more the group is forced to confront the witches and other strange forces they summon. 

I suppose the one thing I've been looking for from all the international productions I've been watching this month is, simply, specificity. I want to see films that reflect the cultures they were made in, that gives me a distinct flavor of what makes, say, Panamanian cinema different from that seen in neighboring countries. What ever flaws "Diablo Rojo PTY" has, it certainly delivers on that promise. This is a movie steeped in the folklore of the area. The story freely mixes together several distinct urban legends. The persistent bruja, maybe the primary boogie-woman of Latin American culture, are the central antagonists. This is combined with the story of La Tuliviejai, a local variant of the La Llorona archetype that is also a hideous bird woman. The film also incorporates stories of the indigenous Guaymí tribe being cannibals and the entire Chiriqui jungle being cursed. (There's also a shout-out to the cadejo, the hooved spirit dogs spoken of all throughout Central America.) At times, "Diablo Rojo PTY" feels a bit like an anthology film made to showcase the ghost tales of the area that instead weaved the different figures into one narrative. This hasty fusion is, at times, awkward and makes the film feel a bit distracted. Especially during the cannibal scenes or the flashbacks establishing La Tuliviejai's backstory. However, the characters often introduce these concepts via childhood stories or almost forgotten memories. In other words, they speak of these tales as a verbal tradition, exactly how legends of this sort have always spread. It adds up to make "Diablo Rojo PTY" feel like a celebration of the traditional monster stories of Panama. 

While "Diablo Rojo PTY" is primarily a love letter to the ghost stories of the region, directors Sol Moreno and J. Oskura Nájera are clearly aware of other horror trademarks. The film has a picturesque musical score clearly meant to invoke an older cinematic era. The soundtrack incorporated the refrain from Berlioz' "Dreams of a Witch's Sabbath" while the melodic opening theme seems inspired by "Cannibal Holocaust." That film can also be seen in the cannibal sequence while the ending pantomimes "Carrie's" final jump-scare. Moreno and Nájera's work isn't wholly referential though. The script draws on the construction of horror classics because they are economical and sturdy. There are five heroes here, each in archetypal roles: The priest, the mentor, the young stoner, the cop, and the load. Despite the simplicity of these roles – and the briefness of the film's 78 minute runtime – enough characteristics are given to each of these guys to make them distinct. Moreover, the film adopts a classical siege movie structure. The first third has the heroes hiding in their bus, beset by the witches outside. Romero and Fulci are clear influences once they arrive at the church, the inhuman threats gathering outside. The climax removes all protection, leaving the survivors alone in the jungle with the entities that seek to kill them. It's a time-tested approach and one that keeps "Diablo Rojo PTY" balanced and moving forward despite its short length. 

The film was clearly a low budget production, which is another reason while it was surely limited to only a few locations. Sometimes, this holds the movie back a little. A bus crash isn't very well orchestrated. Terrible looking CGI muzzle flashes appear any time someone fires a gun, among some other questionable digital effects. However, the special effects are largely practical and charming. The central monster appears as a stretching, pulsating rubber beast that looks neat. The gory spectacle is mostly well-done and directed , with at least one extremely creative application of a machete. A moment where the witches do what witches are often said to do in folklore is genuinely quite unnerving. Not all the exploding heads look great but clearly every cent spent on fake blood and latex appliances is right up there on screen. "Diablo Rojo PTY" radiates with a scrappy energy comparable that recalls the do-it-yourself spirit of Raimi and Romero. The film finds novel ways to deploy its flashier effects – as evident in the clever finale – while showing an obvious love for the art and skill shown on-screen.

I think this might be what elevates "Diablo Rojo PTY" over a lot of other indie horror films of this time. It doesn't pack in references to established classics to show its horror fan street cred. Graphic gore isn't inserted solely to gross out the audience. Instead, the entire movie has a warm and fuzzy glow for genre history and the culture of Panama and its people. It's the cutest movie you'll see that also features a baby being eaten. You can also see this affection in the prominent role given to the diablo rojo buses, a uniquely Panamanian expression of cultural identity. In many ways, this is a simple film, humble in its goals. Its evil witches aren't much more than women in raggedy dresses with some face paint on. A few of its narrative turns are easily foreseen. However, this largely proves to be a very entertaining experience for long-time fans of the genre. If this sets a precedence for what future Panamanian horror movies might be like, things are off to a strong start. [8/10]

Beware! Children at Play (1989)

You think I would've gotten enough killer kid movies earlier in the season but I guess not... Troma Entertainment prides itself upon producing willfully offensive and transgressive movies. The studio's brand has always been outrageousness and, as time has gone on, a tongue-in-cheek approach to violence and as many controversial topics as possible. This includes a taboo that can still ruffle feathers today, even among the hardened audience of horror-obsessed weirdos. I'm talking about kids getting killed on-screen. The studio did a flick about zombie pre-adolescents early in the eighties with "The Children." The company would handle a similar subject at the close of the decade too, when they acquired Mik Cribben's Z-budget splatter fest, "Beware! Children at Play." Lloyd Kaufman has referred to it as the most controversial title in the company's history, which was surely no easy feat from the studio that brought us "Killer Condom," "Fertilize the Blaspheming Bombshell," and "Dumpster Baby." Time for me to judge for myself. 

In the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, an English professor goes camping with his young son. The man gets his leg caught in a bear trap and slowly dies, his boy forced to cannibalize his father's body to survive. Ten years later, author John DeWolfe, his wife Julia, and their little daughter Kara are driving through the same forest on the way to see a relative. Kids have been disappearing around town lately. It turns out the boy, now calling himself Grendel, has grown into a cannibalistic cult leader. He's been abducting other kids and brainwashing them to partake in his parent killing and eating rituals. After Kara is taken, John takes it upon himself to get to the bottom of this before the religious town folks take brutal, vigilante justice against the homicidal young'uns. 

Troma's output is not known for having especially literary screenplays, more so among the titles they've merely acquired instead of producing in-house. Their scripts typically feature more four letter words and bodily functions than references to classical literature. This is not the case with "Beware! Children at Play." The film is unexpectedly dialogue heavy, with numerous call-outs to intellectual subject matters. "Beowulf" is a reoccurring motif, what with the killer kid calling himself Grendel and speaking in quasi-Olde English rhyming. (Somehow, this is not the sole Troma release to shout-out the ancient text.) John's wife is a literature professor, which leads to more discussion of this subject and the history of the Anglo-Saxon language. Early in the film, the parents meet a shyster Bible salesman, which results in a lengthy conversation about scripture that also sets up numerous ideas later on. John is a writer of sensationalist books about the paranormal, several conversations about the nature and intent of such topics following. The killer kids are linked to the Pine Barren's history of backwoods throwbacks as well. The dialogue is rather stylized, the characters talking in long and intricate paragraphs. At first, it's surprising, maybe somewhat endearing. By the end, it is tiresome, as if the movie is trying to prove over and over again that this isn't merely a dumb horror flick. 

What makes the high-minded script all the more disorientating is that the talent displayed in front of and behind the camera does not match these academic pretensions. As is normal for the kind of low-budget schlock Troma puts out, the acting in "Beware! Children at Play" is stilted, to say the least. The cast of balding, middle-age men and their wives croak their way through the elaborate dialogue, feeling at times like they are reading from cue cards. I figured the child actors would give awkward performances but the adults are all on strictly community theater levels as well. Mik Cribben's direction also falls far short of his literary screenplay. Take, for example, the first post-flashback scene. John and his wife talk while driving their car, the camera holding on that one angle until they're done. The talk with the salesman that follows is mostly composed of similarly stationary shots of the actors talking. This continues through the film's many dialogue driven scenes. That does not change when the murderous kiddies are attacking the heroes, the mom stopping in suspended horror to monologue blankly while killer kindergartners are swarming her. It does not make for especially compelling filmmaking. 

The droll writing and flat visuals all seem at odds with "Beware! Children at Play" operating as an outrageous exploitation movie. As you'd expect from a Troma release, the gore effects are gruesome but crude. Showing the obvious "Children of the Corn" influence, a grown adult is slashed in half at the waist and a woman is strung up like a scarecrow while rats eat her face. There's lots of rubber bodies being cut open and raw organs being yanked out. There's some teenager-on-adult sexual assault too, which would probably be the most distasteful scene if it wasn't presented so blankly. This is not why "Beware! Children at Play" is mildly notorious though. That reputation comes from the nihilistic finale where the town folks slaughter the shantytown of psychotic kids. Turns out club-wielding, pint-sized barbarians are no match for a white trash militia with lots of guns. While the brain splatter and barrage of squibs are technically the film's most impressive special effects – standing alongside the most half-assed machete stabbing I've seen recently – they are performed with the same halting fashion as everything else in the film. For example, there's a weird pause before a big head shot. I suppose the bluntness of this conclusion is surprising. I'm not surprised this climax is the only element of the film that is remembered much. However, if not for children being the recipients of these gory acts, none of these effects would be shocking. It's nothing we haven't seen in a hundred low budget zombie pictures. 

Considering "Beware! Children at Play" is rather proud and open about its New Jersey setting, and how many obvious Jersey accents can be heard among the cast, it makes sense that Troma would pick this up. I can't imagine anyone else releasing a movie like this in 1989. Whatever infamy the film might have, it clearly wasn't enough to create a lasting directorial career for Mik Cribben. He would find more work as a camera operator and sound mixer after this but never directed another film again. He's done a little cinematography too, which explains the one or two nice looking shots in the movie when the camera actually bothers moving. (The restoration on the recent Vinegar Syndrome release looks far better than a film like this probably deserves.) I suppose "Beware! Children at Play" mixing literary references with crude gore and low-budget filmmaking makes the film somewhat unique among the Troma library. Or maybe not, considering "Tromeo & Juliet" and "Shakespeare's Shitshow" exist. There's some mild gasps or chuckles to be had here but it's mostly a lurching, if unusual, clunker. [5/10]

Room 104: Mr. Mulvahill

What I like the most about "Room 104" is how the stripped-down quality of its premise – every episode is set in the same motel room and anything can happen there – forces a focus on doing a lot with a little: Telling a story in a plain setting cinematically, getting strong performances out of the actors, and creating a script that surprises the viewer. This is very apparent in "Mr. Mulvahill." The episode follows middle-aged trumpet player, Jim. He invites his third grade music teacher, Mr. Mulvahill, to meet him in this hotel room so he can tell him how he changed his life. What starts out as innocent nostalgia soon reveals a darker secret, as it becomes clear that Jim is unwell and Mr. Mulvahill is not all he appears to be. Before too long, the old man is tied to a chair and Jim is threatening his life. 

On the surface, it's not too hard to figure out what "Mr. Mulvahill" is really about. After exchanging pleasantries and telling a sweet story about how the old man introduced him to Beethoven, Jim presses his teacher to admit something. To recount how he remembers what happened next on that day, all those years ago, when Jim was only a lad. As the former student reveals more of his life – how the incident of that day has haunted him and led to a history of therapist visits, medication, keeping secrets, and a sense of worthlessness – the viewer can fill in the blanks. Mr. Mulvahill is a sexual predator and Jim is his victim. That act of violation has turned Jim into a depressed, struggling adult, an unstable man-child forever trapped in the moment of that trauma. When the story turns violent, when Jim ties Mr. Mulvahill to a chair and threatens to bash his brains in with a baseball bat unless he admits the truth, you can't help but assume that this is a story of revenge, consequences, and the lingering psychic damage of childhood abuse. 

That alone probably would've been enough to make "Mr. Mulvahill" a tense, challenging half-hour of television. However, the episode is also not about childhood sex abuse, as Jim reveals that something much more improbable happened that day. Now, you can look at this as a cop-out. As character actor-turned-director Ross Partridge and writer Mark Duplass exploitatively using the all-too-common terror of childhood sexual abuse to set up a supernatural twist. To lend a more whimsical story gravity by mirroring the effects of a very serious, real world horror. I think "Mr. Mulvahill" does something interesting with this however. The ending still has the teacher validating what happened to Jim that day, giving him some sense of catharsis. If the entire thing is a metaphor, then it's hard not to see that conclusion as the boy getting revenge on his abuser. However, pinning the story around something impossible forces us to ask difficult questions about the subjectivity of truth, of capital punishment's role as justice. Moreover, this is twisting screenwriting that draws us further into the material. Is Jim a nut? Is Mr. Mulvahill innocent? It's compelling. 

I've never seen "The Office" but, based on his acting in films like "Super" and "The Boy," I'm a big fan of Rainn Wilson as a character actor who specializes in playing unhinged rejects and misfits. As Jim, Wilson uses his talent for childlike enthusiasm to create a man who is hopelessly stuck on his elementary years. As the material grows darker, Wilson displays a disquieting nervousness while still rooting Jim's madness in very real, easily understood issues. Frank Birney, near the end of a long career in film and television, plays the titular captive as someone who seems innocent... With the right amount of uncertainty in his voice and eyes, to make us wonder if he's as wicked as Jim thinks he is. That ambiguity allows "Mr. Mulvahill" to occupy the same place as other moral mindfucks like "Hard Candy," getting at the truth of a difficult subject by coaching it in metaphor and breakneck, pulp thrills. [8/10]

The Elvira Show (1993)

Cassandra Peterson's Elvira alter-ego has, by any traditional measure, been enormously successful. She's an internationally recognized sex symbol, probably the most iconic of all horror hosts, a perennial Halloween costume favorite, the face of several popular ad campaigns, and been slapped on every piece of merchandise imaginable. Strangely though, Elvira has never quite crossed over with the biggest narrative media. Though a beloved cult classic now, her first movie flopped at the time and its long delayed follow-up barely played in theaters. In 1993, Peterson would star in a pilot for a sitcom based around the beloved character. It was well received by test audiences but, supposedly, the head of the network canned it because Elvira's neckline was too low. "The Elvira Show" pilot now circulates online, where it remains a tantalizing what-if for fans of the Mistress of the Dark. 

Set in Peterson's childhood home of Manhattan, Kansas, the pilot sees Elvira working as a fortune teller and witch, selling love potions of debatable quality. She is kept company by her mischievous aunt Minerva and a talking black cat named Renfield. A hunky man named Chip comes into the shop and Elvira is immediately smitten. She doesn't know that Chip is an undercover cop sent to investigate her shop after a love potion supposedly sent a customer to the emergency room. Meanwhile, Elvira is also paid a visit by Paige, her teenage niece who has been raised by nuns. Elvira and Minerva attempt to hide their witchy ways from the wholesome youth.

In keeping with the bawdy puns the hostess usually slings, "The Elvira Show" is impressively horny at times. Every interaction she has with Chip is laced with double entendres, including a surprisingly explicit reference to erectile dysfunction. Jokes about Elvira's boobs and ravenous appetite are always amusing. However, Peterson has excellent comedic timing in general. Her reaction to her romantic rival at the cop filled climax or Minvera's sarcastic comebacks genuinely got me belly laughing. The pilot also embraces the witch element to a surprising degree. Chip ends up frozen and then floating due to some mishaps, which Elvira and Minerva have to cover up from the impressionable Paige, a solid sitcom shenanigan.

Phoebe Augustine – "Twin Peaks'" Ronette Pulaski – makes for a cute counterpart to the randy older ladies. Katherine Helmond also has the right attitude as Minerva. The pilot was directed by the fittingly named Peter Bonerz, who previously directed "Police Academy 6" and many nineties sitcoms. The potion shop set looks fun but the police station seems right out of "Murphy Brown," which Bonerz directed 96 episodes of. At first I was skeptical if an entire season could have sprung from this half-hour presentation but the decision to do away with the most contrived sitcom element – Elvira keeping her witchy abilities away from Paige – are dismissed by the end. Frequent collaborator Jon Paragon provides the voice of Renfield the cat, one of the sillier elements. I recall an interview where Peterson wondered if ABC's "Sabrina the Teenage Witch," which debuted shortly afterwards, didn't rip "The Elvira Show" off a little. Salem the cat didn't gain his snarky voice until that show, so Peterson might have a point. If "Elvira" had gone to series, it probably would've held up better than the dopier "Sabrina." I know I would've loved a weekly spooky, silly treat as a kid, though the naughty puns surely would've gone over my youthful head. Ah, what might have been... Either way, "The Elvira Show" is a sturdy laugh generator and well worth seeking out for fans. [7/10]

Halloween 2023: October 18th

Macabre (2009)

Rumah Darah

When “The Raid” came out in 2011, it really opened the eyes of western movie nerds to some of the bad-ass stuff coming out of Indonesia. Though that movie was directed by Gareth Evans – a Welsh filmmaker – it became a porthole through which a whole slew of Indonesian directors and stars sneaked through. Among those is Evans' occasional collaborator, Timo Tjahjanto. Before teaming up with Gareth, Timo was part of a duo called the Mo Brothers with Kimo Stamboel. (Who has also made some stand-alone hits of his own.) The Mo Brothers' breakout movie would be “Macabre.” Known in its native language as “Rumah Darah” – which seems to roughly translate to “House of Blood” – the film would, in many ways, be the predecessor to many of the hard-hitting, bone-crunching films to win fans all over the world in the years to come. 

Ladya has a tense relationship with her brother Adjie, who plans on moving to Australia with his pregnant wife, Astrid. Despite the awkwardness between them, Ladya agrees to celebrate with her brother and his friends. After leaving the bar she works at, the group encounters a strange woman in the streets. Named Maya, they give her a ride back to her secluded country home. She insists they come inside to meet her family, led by intense matriarch Dara. The family is welcoming at first, inviting the strangers to eat with them, but the horrible truth is soon revealed. Ladya, her brother, and their friends wake up, drugged and bound. Dara and her offspring are killing people and selling their flesh, which they also eat. Ladya and Adjie will be pushed to the limits if they hope to survive this hideous night. 

If the above plot synopsis didn't make it clear, “Macabre” is basically the Indonesian version of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.” Leatherface's favorite power tool is even utilized in dismembering some victims. Yet this is a great example of a film where the execution – pun fully intended – is everything. As he would display in his future action pictures, Timo Tjahjanto has a hell of a talent for intense violence and skull-busting action sequence. When people get hurt in “Macabre,” they don't merely get knocked around. Bones protrude through the skin. Body parts are separated. A face is bashed in. Blood sprays through the air. Adding to the severity of the violence is some seriously tight editing and creative cinematography. More than once, the camera is attached to the blade of the chainsaw as it swings through the air. Tjahjanto, Stamboel, and their team insures that every bone splintering blow hits with maximum impact. 

The vicious efficiency and graphic brutality of “Macabre's” violence is what most distinguishes it. Yet none of that stuff would mean much if the film didn't have heroes we could root for. The characters in “Macabre” are simple, with the cast perhaps being too large for us to get a read on most of them. Adjie's friends include the horny one, the goofy one, his perfectly angelic wife, and a few other guys. If that's not enough, some clownish cops wander into the story to further beef up the body count. While none of these characters are that memorable, they sure have a will to survive. Most important is Julie Estelle as Ladya. Her shared trauma and lingering grief with her brother is standard stuff for horror films like this. Mostly, Estelle is such a compelling physical presence, a determined survivor who rails tooth-and-nail against her depraved enemies. She's got all the qualities you want in both an action heroine and a final girl. 

Not unlike “Texas Chain Saw Massacre,” the most interesting characters in “Macabre” are the brood of backwoods cannibals. There's the hulking, sexually predatory, Leatherface-like simpleton who does most of the sawing. His siblings includes the seductive but unhinged Maya and the upright seeming but brutally direct Adam. And they are all pretty good villains, intimidating and freaky. Yet Shareefa Daanish's Dara reigns over them all. I don't think Daanish blinks a single time throughout the whole movie. She speaks in a monotone voice, always starring ahead, projecting an inhuman level of focus that is immediately unnerving. By the end, when she picks up the chainsaw herself and starts to fight back, the fury she contains is unleashed as well. To see such a terrifying villainess and such a convincingly tough heroine come to blows makes sure that “Macabre” has a hell of a final act.

The film hints at some greater history for Dara and her off-spring. The mother is apparently over a hundred years old, with the suggestion being that her and her kids are some sort of scientific experiments. This nuggets of backstory are smartly revealed through briefly glimpsed film reels and photographs. Tjahjanto and Slamboel have both hinted at a sequel over the years, which “Macabre” clearly leaves room for. It's hard to say if that'll ever come to fruition, since Tjahjanto is now busy with a “Train to Busan” remake. Estelle and Daanish went on to star-making roles in “The Raid 2” and “The Night Comes for Us.” But I do hope a sequel emerges eventually, or at least another collaboration between these directors and cast members, if only because I want to see more of this strain of blood-soaked insanity. “Macabre” is a vicious, hard-hitting but utterly invigorating bit of bloodshed. [8/10]

Combat Shock (1986)

For cult movie devotees like myself, who were born too late to experience it personally, the exploitation films of the seventies and eighties hold a special appeal. Essentially, these movies capture a version of New York City that no longer exists. I'm referring to the era when Times Square was full of sleazy theaters that played exploitation cinema around the clock. While the city is probably better off without the porn shops, drug dealers, and pimps, the old, sleazy New York holds a certain romantic appeal. It is through the low budget films of this time period, filmed in the city to play in 42nd Street grindhouses, that we can get a peek at this bygone time. Few films give us as in-depth look at the city-dwelling sordidness of those days then Buddy Giovinazzo's 1986 nerve-rattler, “Combat Shock.” 

Fifteen years ago, Frankie rejected the advice of his well-to-do father and married Cathy, the woman he loved. Shortly afterwards, he was deployed to Vietnam. Frankie's experience in the war was utterly soul-crushing, being witness to a horrific massacre and tortured by the Viet-Cong. Left deeply traumatized, he's haunted by flashbacks still. Upon returning home, his exposure to Agent Orange causes his and Cathy's child to be born terribly deformed. Now unable to find work and practically homeless, Frankie takes to the streets to find some sort of employment. Instead, he encounters junkies, predatory gangsters, pimps, and child prostitutes. It won't be long before Frankie's sanity totally shatters and he descends completely into a personal hell.

Many exploitation movies made in the days concurrent and after “Combat Shock” were far more self-aware in their sleaziness. Troma, the distributors of “Combat Shock,” practically specialized in self-aware compilation of outrageous content and cartoonish gore. Giovinazzo's film is different. Its depiction of urban squalor is utterly sincere. Photographed entirely in genuine Staten Island locations, every corner of “Combat Shock” is covered with filth. The central apartment is rundown. The back-allies, abandoned buildings, and sidewalks are in utter disarray. Maggots and rotten food are shoved into the camera. Rick Giovinazzo, the director's brother who plays Frank, spends the entire film with a layer of flop-sweat on his skin and his greasy hair plastered to his forehead. Every character in the film is sunken-eyed and pale. Even the televisions in the movie only broadcast static and inane chatter. The film totally captures an atmosphere of life under the poverty line in a big city. 

It's not a pleasant experience, which “Combat Shock's” script and production values push further. Frankie is introduced in the grips of a PTSD flashback, which he more-or-less stays in for the rest of the movie. His wife yells at him to find work and get food. An early incident in the film is a clogged toilet. And that hellish baby, with its unsettling face, is always shrieking. Frank's acquaintances include desperate junkies and brutal crime lords, who regularly commit terrible acts to ensure their own survival. And then things get worst. In other words, “Combat Shock” creates an atmosphere of utter hopelessness, where no one will get out unscathed. It is bleak, abrasive, and thoroughly depressing. Frank amusing a child prostitute with some funny faces is what passes for a moment of levity in this film. 

As hopeless and sleazy as “Combat Shock” is, I don't think empty nihilism was Giovianzzo's goal here. These characters have personality. Frank loved his wife once and maybe still does. His refusal to go to his rich father isn't just out of pride but firmly held personal beliefs. When he encounters his junkie friend, he promises to help the guy next they meet. He stands up for the young girls he encounters. If not for his experiences in the war, Frank's life surely would've turned out differently. And so, a criticism of the U.S. war machine emerges. As more of Frank's haunted past is revealed, via increasingly fractured flashbacks, it becomes clear that being forced to kill for reasons those in control could barely justify broke Frank's mind and corrupted his soul. “Combat Shock” wallows in despair but not without good reason. 

I'd even argue there's quite a deal of artistry to what the film pulls off. The acting is sometimes awkward. The dialogue, especially the voice-over narrations Rick Giovinazzo rattles off, are stilted. The electronic score is repetitive. Needless to say, the production values are often crude. Yet there's no doubt that “Combat Shock” makes an impact on the viewer. There's a ferocity in the way the violence is delivered, the inevitable carnage playing out as a cathartic release of Frank's pain and also ultimate acts of self-destruction by a desperate man. A real sense of disorientation and pain is apparent in the Vietnam sequences. While the special effects aren't the best, the way the death and murder is depicted is surprisingly harrowing. “Combat Shock” often borders on campy and could be accused of being juvenile in its edginess. However, the entire film resonates with a palpable rage and agony. 

In other words, Buddy Giovinazzo was making a point with “Combat Shock.” He had a purpose. His vision might've exceeded his resources at times. Still, I feel his film is highly successful in putting a viewer into the mindset of its broken protagonist and the hellish world he inhabits. Combined with the caught-on-film, genuine Staten Island grubbiness and you've got an undeniable exploitation classic. “Combat Shock” left me shaken and unsettled, no matter how low-budget it is at times. Giovinazzo went on to an idiosyncratic career – which includes an unrealized sequel to “Maniac,” one of the few movies that can rival this one in terms of scuzzy Big Apple atmosphere – proving that the talent on-display wasn't a fluke. If you've got the endurance for this kind of downbeat cinema, “Combat Shock” is likely to become a favorite of your's as well. [9/10]

Goosebumps: The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight

Scarecrows occupy the same uncanny valley as dummies and mannequins, making them frequent features in horror stories. This is even true in the kid-friendly horror market, as R.L. Stine's mega-popular but dubious “Goosebumps” took a crack at the concept as well. Naturally, “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight” was adapted for an episode of the Fox Kids TV version too. It follows –  like practically every one of these – a brother and sister. Jodie and Mark are visiting their grandparents' farm but quickly notice something is amiss. Everyone is acting strangely, especially farmhand Stanley. Soon, Jodie starts to have nightmares about the scarecrows and Mark observes them seemingly moving. Both youths soon discover that the scarecrows are indeed alive, animated by a spell book Stanley found and foolishly read from.

Even as a kid, I've never been much impressed with “Goosebumps,” either on the page or on screen. Yet, as I've noted in the past, the show does deserve some credit for treating its monsters-of-the-week seriously, more often than not. What the hell the scarecrows (what walk at midnight) plan to do once they grab someone is never defined. Yet the scenes of the scarecrows appearing in the youngsters' bedroom or emerging out of the cornstalks to grab someone play with an extremely mild degree of tension. When the straw-stuffed menaces start to break through the walls of the barns the siblings hide inside, “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight” even feels a little bit like the Saturday morning version of a zombie movie. I even kind of like the soundtrack, which is heavy on the sparse acoustic guitar and creates something of an isolated, rural ambiance. 

No matter how gingerly creepy the villains might be or how meekly suspenseful the scenarios are, “Goosebumps” is always hassled by its status as kid show slop. The narrative is largely senseless. The attempt to mine unease from Jodie's grandmother forgetting to make pancakes for breakfast or serving pie are as de-fanged as horror can get. Stanley – who Michael Copeman plays as someone who has been kicked in the head by a mule – is indecisively balanced between innocent simpleton and evil mastermind. His son, inexplicably named Sticks, leads to the episode's dumbest fake-outs. Ultimately, the justification for why the scarecrows have sprung to life feels like it was made-up on the spot. 

As quickly as R.L. Stine produced his “Goosebumps” installments, it's not surprising that they feature sloppy plotting. The ever-present twist ending here is very, very dumb but, at least, it ends the episode on something like a surprising mark. Like every episode of “Goosebumps,” “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight” nods towards the spooky and horrific but is so committed to being soft and unthreatening that it rarely works. However, this one actually had some potential. Scarecrows are symbols rift with meaning. The emptiness of the rural setting, and the wind blowing through the stalks at night, could've created a creepy feeling. There's even an element of folk horror, in the plot device used to animate the scarecrows. I guess unfulfilled opportunities to be good is the best we can hope for from this show. [6/10]

The Pledge (1981)

The series of television films produced for the BBC, usually airing around the holidays and more often than not adapted from classic English ghost stories, are critically acclaimed. Among a certain crowd of “Doctor Who”-loving genre nerds, they are practically worshiped. I've yet to actually watch any of these Ghost Stories for Christmas productions but I've seen a few parallel films. One such example is “The Pledge,” an adaptation of a Lord Dunsany short story by filmmaker Digby Rumsey. The twenty-minute short didn't actually air on the BBC and was, in fact, rated X by the British rating board. Yet it touches upon many of the same themes as those TV movies and is frequently listed alongside them. The short got a big boost recently after it was featured in that folk horror documentary.

The specific story adapted here is “The Highwayman.” It concerns a highwayman, a thief and robber, who never did a single good thing in his entire life. After being captured and tried, he is hanged at the gallows. Before his execution, three of the man's friends made a pledge to him: That they would cut down his corpse and give it a proper Christian burial. Though some of the trio object to the plan, the three men fulfill their promise. In the process, they end up saving the soul of their utterly rotten friend. 

“The Pledge” doesn't begin with a concise narrative. The film begins with a montage of the highwayman's villainous acts in life, which include abusing some poor woman. It flashes between these events, his capture, him awaiting execution in his cell, and close-ups on his rotting corpse. It's only after these events are thoroughly established that the story's proper narrative begins, at which point “The Pledge” becomes almost scientifically detached in its straight-forwardness. We see the men locate the man's body, which has rotted away to nothing much but bones, before cutting it down and placing it in a tomb. The switch between an almost experimental opening and then a direct second half produces quite a bit of whiplash in the viewer.

In truth, I was left wondering exactly what the point of “The Pledge” was. There's a certain irony to the result of the story. The close-ups of the moldering corpse are remarkably gruesome. The dialogue the men trade plays out like the 1800s equivalent of hard-boiled banter. It's all certainly interesting. Ramsey definitely shows a certain aptitude for otherworldly atmosphere, which the strange soundtrack contributes to. Yet I'm not sure what exactly it coheres into. Still, if you're looking for a dose of folk horror ambiance, “The Pledge” will certainly deliver on that. [6/10]