Halloween 2026: October 5th

 

The Housemaid (2016)
Cô Hầu Gái

Vietnam doesn't really have the tradition of horror movies that many of its neighboring nations do. The Wikipedia article on Vietnamese cinema references a short from 1937 entitled "Toét's Scared of Ghosts," supposedly one of the first fictional films made in the country and a "comedy with a slight romantic horror theme." There's also a Vietnamese-made Hong Kong production from '37 called "The Ghost Field" but I'm betting any ghosts in that one are probably of the metaphorical variety. Because most early Vietnamese films are documentaries or propaganda efforts. After the war and the unification, it seems social-realism was the primary genre favored by studios and audiences for several decades. There's a 1999 movie called "The Building" (Chung cư), that most sources describe as a straight-ahead social drama but IMDb's plot synopsis pitches like a haunted house movie, so I'm not sure what to think about that. Generally speaking though, Vietnamese cinema didn't try to catch up with the J-horror fad until the 2000s. A 2004 drama called "Spirits" seems to incorporate some supernatural activity. A 2007 Korean co-production, "Muoi: Legend of a Portrait," sounds like a proper local variation on the ever popular "stringy-haired ghost girl" premise and is frequently listed as the country's first true horror movie. Since then, there's been an ongoing attempt to establish Vietnamese horror for real. Probably the most acclaimed example is "The Housemaid," a 2016 film from Derek Nguyen, which actually got some decent distribution over here. 

Our story takes place in 1953, in the midst of the First Indochina War. A young woman named Linh mysteriously appears at a rubber plantation deep in the woods, seeking work. Stern headmistress Mrs. Han reluctantly takes her in, advising her to know her place and never make eye contact with her French masters. Linh soon learns that the home is said to be haunted. That owner Captain Sebastian had a wife and daughter but, after being left alone for so long, the madame murdered the child and drowned herself. And her spirit is said to still wander the grounds. After Sebastian returns home suddenly with a war wound, Linh is tasked with nursing him back to health. They get to know each other and soon a passionate love affair ensues. All the while, threatening visions of Madame Christine pursue Linh. Soon enough, people begin to wind up dead around the mansion. 

If "The Housemaid" was a deliberate attempt by Nguyen and his team to establish Vietnam genre filmmaking on the international scene, it's easy to see the path they took. The film belongs to the classy tradition of gothic ghost stories and haunted period pieces, drawing some clear inspiration from "The Innocents" and "Jane Eyre." The mansion setting is handsome, filled with many shadowy corners and brooding windows. Fog seems to perpetually float over the forest floor. A gloomy atmosphere of repressed passion and barely concealed secrets prevails. The film does indulge in some noisier scares. The ghost of Madame Christine, a rotting corpse in a tattered gown, has a habit of leaping out and screeching at people. There's an attempted axe murder and a fairly well done sequence involving some zombies rising from the forest floor. The editing and sound design is a bit overdone at times. However, "The Housemaid" mostly does a serviceable job invoking some misty, ghost story ambiance without spoiling it too much with obnoxious loud shrieks and sudden intrusions. 

Aside from belonging to a classier type of horror, “The Housemaid” is also all too aware of the class and social boundaries facing its protagonist. Linh faces the challenges of being both a woman and a servant. One of Captain Sebastian's military pals attempts to insult her, while Mrs. Han repeatedly reminds her that she is not of the same strata as her employers. Even after beginning the affair with the man of the house, Linh receives scornful glances from his (white) fiancee, who declares her not pretty enough to be cheated on with. While these kinds of divisions and pressures are universal, “The Housemaid” is also distinctly Vietnamese though. Among the plantation staff is a cruel overseer, who nostalgically recalls the days of being able to torture deserters and others he deems “ungrateful.” These speak to specific abuses and injustices the Vietnamese faced under French imperialism. The film attempts to tie both its haunting story and its social minded, historical elements together into a twist ending that I don't think I entirely understood. Nevertheless, this is clearly a film where the boundaries of class and racism keep the heroine imprisoned as much as the haunting does. 

While I think there's some good skill on display here, and the film is sound in much of its writing and construction, “The Housemaid” ultimately left me a little unsatisfied. The pace is slow, almost dirge-like at times, as we watch Linh's daily misery. Meanwhile, her romance with her employer seems almost inevitable, the two destined to end up together as much as any other male and female lead in a romance story would. The film attempts to make the romance feel less mechanical. There's some passionate love scenes and a moment where Sebastian tearfully begs for Linh's forgiveness. However, it all comes across as more melodramatic than anything else. That emphasis of oversized emotions are present in other elements of the film, in the way it tries a little too hard with some of its ghost sequence or in the broader actions of some of the supporting cast. 

“The Housemaid” is not one of those tedious dramas, concerned only with making its social statements, that includes a handful of ghosts or nightmares to qualify for the much more commercially popular genre of horror. I do think the film is genuinely invested in the ghost story and handles it, from time to time, quite well. The appreciation of misty gothic atmosphere is very real. However, I do feel like the script is never quite able to bring its romance story, ghostly haunting, and class-drama threads together into a satisfying whole. Maybe a stronger lead performance would have helped, as Nhung Kate as Linh is a bit stiff at times. Either way, it's merely an okay, not great, attempt at a Vietnamese ghost story. [6/10]

 

Crypt of the Vampire (1964)
La cripta e l’incubo

If Sheridan Le Fanu's “Carmilla” must hold the title of Second Most Influential Vampire Novel in Literary History, I would say that's still a rather honorable position to be in. Obviously, “Dracula” would essentially invent the pop culture vampire. However, that krazy Karnstein was there first. The novel has gotten its own share of adaptations too, if not nearly as many to rival the Count. In fact, for the second time this season, I've found myself going into a seemingly unrelated vampire movie only to realize it's another adaptation of Le Fanu's book. While “Alucarda” was clearly a case of being merely inspired by the text, 1964's “Crypt of the Vampire” – alternatively known as “Terror in the Crypt” and probably a dozen other titles – is actually one of the more faithful adaptations I've seen. It's another film from Christopher Lee's Italian period, made when he had a week off from filming “The Whip and the Body.” 

Years ago, Sheena Karnstein was persecuted for the crime of witchcraft. Before being executed, she put a curse on the family, promising to return and haunt them again some day. Centuries later, Count Ludwig lives in the same castle with his daughter, Laura. Laura is haunted by reoccurring nightmares. Ludwig is afraid that she is possessed by the spirit of Sheena. Laura holds this concern too and has made her handmaid promise to kill her, should she ever be taken over by an evil ancestor. The castle sees two guests arrive. The first is Klauss, a scholar recruited to uncover the portrait of Sheena, revealing if Laura resembles her or not. Secondly, a carriage wreck leaves a young woman named Ljuba at the home. Her and Laura become fast friends but her nightmares persists. Strange murders begin to happen around the castle too, making Ludwig increasingly concerned that his daughter is now a vampire.

I've brought this up surely a dozen times before but it bares repeating. If an old horror movie has really pretty, black-and-white photography, I'm willing to give it a pass on so many other things. Well, let me tell you: “Crypt of the Vampire” is not a classic, by any means. Its story is somehow both a bit repetitive and somewhat confusing. It seems a large portion of the script is devoted to re-emphasizing that Ludwig is worried about his daughter, without really specifying how the curse is supposed to work. Her maid is also a witch, which is separately referred to as both a good thing and a bad thing at different times. None of the characters are that distinct and it's easy to confuse them. The pacing is rather slow, the audience often left wondering when the point will arrive. 

All of this is true and yet... “Crypt of the Vampire” is so pretty. Filmed at the Castello Piccolomini, the genuine ancient ambiance goes a long way. A shot of Laura running through the castle halls, coming to a large locked door right before the lights go out, is a great example of how far the location goes. Julio Orlas and Giuseppe Aquari's cinematography is rich with shadows. An especially stunning sequence involves an ascent up the staircase, carrying a rather unique candelabra, throwing brilliant shadows on the walls around. In general, the film builds some impressively creepy sequences. The discovery of why a bell is ringing or Laura's reoccurring nightmares prove to hit the exact sweet spot for rich, monochromatic shivers that I long for. 

“Dracula” and “Carmilla” are linked by the role dreams play in both stories. The vampire in each is an incubus-like figure, arriving to take something from the sleeping maiden while she is unawares. By devoting significant screen time to Laura's dreams, “Crypt” brings the idea that the vampire arises from the subconscious to mind much more clearly. This is further emphasized by the film barely disguising the queer subtext of the source material. Laura and Ljuba grow very close, very fast. They are often giving each other long, meaningful looks or little touches on the shoulders. They do seem to spend a lot of time together in their nightgowns. When Klauss makes his romantic interest in Laura known, she outright says she prefers Ljuba's company to his. Having the bite of a vampire seemingly bring sexual bliss is nothing new. It plays in slightly different context when it's two young women, their passions for each other unspoken, the sexual taste and the undead nature going hand-in-hand. If the vampire lurks in the subconscious, it lives in the same shadowy realm as the desires we oppress and try to ignore but that inevitably bubble up as we dream. 

Repressed sexuality is not the only thing lurking down there in the shade-blanketed neither land of our subconscious. Throughout the film, Count Ludwig is overcome with shame that his bloodline has doomed his daughter. He's such a devoted father, that he fears making his relationship with another woman in the castle obvious to Laura. He wants to protect her from the outside world, unaware that corruption is already working its fangs into her, in an innocent seeming form. Moreover, his own fear has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. By talking about the family curse, putting the idea in his daughter's head, he's insured that she's interested and fearful of this too. Thus, the parent has made sure that what he's most worried will certainly come to pass. It's another manifestation of our secret fears, shame, guilt, and worries arising out of the abyss of the mind and becoming reality.

The films he shot aboard in Italy, Spain, or Germany did not always ask Christopher Lee to do much more than glower or stand around menacingly. He does plenty of that here too. However, “Crypt of the Vampire” actually gave Lee some material to chew on. A moment where, all but tears in his eyes, he asks why his daughter must suffer actually had me feeling some things. None of the other performances are that notable, though Adriana Ambesi and Ursula Davis both have some soulful eyes. The inevitable Bava comparisons arises in the torture sequence flashback, showing the witch being strung up and punished, in a way awfully similar to “Black Sunday.” The film also includes the somewhat underwhelming climax from Le Fanu's novel, which probably wasn't its best idea. Nevertheless, despite some obvious and apparent flaws, “Crypt of the Vampire” is still ridiculously in my wheelhouse. [8/10]

Ghosts: Three Miles Up

There's been so much self-mythologizing about the BBC's lengthy history of ghost stories that even I, an admitted convert to loving this shit, am a little tired of hearing about it. Clearly, however, the British Broadcasting Corporation has been aware of its own legacy of hushed, spooky horror for quite a while. In 1995, the network would debut an anthology that was simply called “Ghosts.” The brief, five episode series has never been released on disc but remains well-regarded by fans of this sort of thing. “Three Miles Up” was the penultimate episode, based on a short story by Elizabeth Jane Howard, and was directed by Lesley Manning. As in, the filmmaker behind “Ghostwatch,” my favorite low-key but creepy ghost story to emerge from British television. Meaning I had to check it out.

John decides to reconnect with Billy, his troubled younger brother. They rent a boat and go for a long excursion through the Fenlands, ostensibly as a bonding exercise. This is fitting, as both brothers carry around a boatload of trauma from their childhood with an abusive, withholding mother. That includes John essentially raising his brother himself and their mother dying under mysterious circumstances. Among the possessions of dear ol' mum they find is a whistle, which Billy thoughtlessly blows. Shortly after setting up the river, they discover a young lady on the shore. Both men feel attracted to her, the rivalry between the brothers heating up. At the same time, their journey up the river seems to keep going, the duo's destination always “three miles up” from their current location.

All ghost stories are about the dead refusing to stay underground, a fitting metaphor for unresolved childhood hang-ups and sibling rivalry. John and Billy often bicker, their familiarity with one another colored by years of resentment and pain. Billy insists he was always mom's favorite, John shooting back that he was the one always watching after his brother. That makes the soggy, overgrown fens a very fitting setting for such a story. Throughout “Three Miles Up,” faces and objects either emerge from the dark waters or sink into it. Much like bad memories or deeply buried memories floating up out of the subconscious. The deeper down the river they go, the comparisons to the mythological Styx all too obvious, the more the past comes to life around them. The final image of the episode is nicely chilling, an appropriate visualization of the idea of both men being swallowed up from that which they attempt to forget. 

“Three Miles Up” is also really slow. Once again, this is a prickly story devoted to two characters who don't like each other, arguing about their past. The appearance of the woman is an especially Freudian intrusion into this uneasy balance. She's both a romantic object for the men as well as a stand-in for their bitter mother. That's a reveal easily foreseen. While slowly entombing dread is the obvious goal here, the episode moving at the same pace as the sleepy boat ride makes it a little harder to be sucked in. Still, there is a dreary ambiance to this one, supported by the perpetually overcast British weather. It's more sad than scary, more tragic than chilling, but still quite well done. [7/10]

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Bottle of Dreams

After spending a whole season hunting down the devil's playthings, Jack decides to throw a little party for Ryan and Micki. They get dressed up and pop a bottle of wine. That's when a weird guy in a turban delivers an ancient Egyptian canoptic jar. As they attempt to place the jar in the vault, Ryan and Micki are envelope in fumes from inside it. They begin to experience nightmares of their most frightening encounters, a personal hell that will ultimately end in their deaths. Jack stands up up stairs, inviting a friend named Rashid to help him undo this curse. This will mean confronting the spirit of Lewis Vendredi once again, as well as his own fears and regrets. 

Another episode set largely within the antiques shop, about the trio trying to unwind after capturing so many cursed items, is a fun idea for a season finale. Unfortunately, that set-up is soon passed over in favor of that most despised of cost-saving measures for old TV shows: The clip show. Bringing back some of the evil doodads for cameos is a great idea, as it deepens the sense of history and continuity the show has. Unfortunately, the minute the camera zoomed in on the demon doll from episode one and started replaying footage, I could tell what we were getting here. Yes, about half of the run time here is made up of recycled scenes from past installments. I hope I don't disappoint anybody by admitting that I fast-forwarded through the reused clips. Some of the clips chosen are also a bit questionable. I still think the doll episode was pretty cheesy, while agreeing that “Scarecrow” and the Dracula one were highlights. 

Clip shows are usually totally disposable episode that can be easily skipped. Maybe all too aware of that stigma, the “Friday the 13th” crew decided to also drop some essential lore in this episode. Here, we learn that Jack used to have a son, with psychic powers of his own, who died while trying to help someone. This episode also has Uncle Lewis reappearing. It's funny that the first episode established Lewis as ultimately remorseful about his mission to spread evil in the world, while every subsequent appearance has him being a willing minion of the devil. I don't mind too much, as watching R.G. Armstrong be evil is consistently amusing. I also like the minimalist but well done otherworldly sets used in the back half. It's nothing but a black backdrop with some dramatic lighting but it works. Certainly works better than the cheesy, stereotypical “laser” effects used a little later on. 

That puts “Bottle of Dreams” in an interesting place, half-way between the laziest way to pad out a season order and feeling like a proper finale to the last twenty-five episodes. I don't know if the episode can entirely overcome the inherent weaknesses of the clip-heavy format but I still think this one is okay. In fact, while the quality of “Friday the 13th: The Series” can vary wildly from episode to episode, I mostly found myself enjoying this first season. Like many shows of this nature, the chemistry between the central players has caused me to slowly become invested in them. While the gimmick of the week may or may not be lame, I simply enjoy hanging out with Jack, Ryan, and Micki. Yeah, I do think I'm going to check out the rest of this series. It's sometimes silly or limp but it's also the kind of old show I would've gotten really into as a kid. Ideal nostalgic October viewing, in other words. [Bottle of Dreams: 6/10] [Friday the 13th: The Series: Season One: 7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 27th

 

Kraken (2026)
 

The Norwegian film industry has, within the last decade, made an honest attempt to establish itself as an international hot spot. The country can now claim several big budget summer blockbusters of its own, with special effects and urban destruction almost comparable to their Hollywood equivalents. Proving once again that Legendary's “Godzilla” truly did renew global interest in giant monsters, a few of these titles feature enormous beasts. Yes, the tally of Norwegian kaiju movies now totals three. First, there was Roar Uthaug’s “Troll,” about a big ass troll attacking Oslo. Next was “Troll 2,” in which a good big-ass troll fought a bad big-ass troll. Now, another famous beastie from Nordic mythology is getting a similar treatment. “Kraken” arrived earlier this year. It is from director Pål Øie, who has followed in Roar’s footsteps by leaping from slasher flicks to disaster movies to giant monsters. 

Decades ago, several witnesses saw something huge in the waters of the Sognefjord. Today, the deepest of all of Norway’s fjords is now the home of an industrialized salmon farm. The farm makes use of ultra-sonic devices to drive sea lice away from the fish. These machines were invented by Johanne, who distanced herself from the work over ecological concerns. However, with pressure from investors mounting, she’s drawn back to the project. A pair of teenagers disappear on the fjord, their mangled bodies discovered soon afterwards. This is the first of several strange events around the water. Against Johanne’s wishes, the frequencies of the devices are increased. This further agitates something dwelling deep within the waters. It’s not long before a massive tentacled beast is emerging from the fjord, Johannes and her co-workers attempting to stop it from causing more destruction. 

The kraken does not originate in pre-Christian religions or ancient folkloric beliefs, like most of the sea monsters of the Scandinavian region. Instead, it was basically to 1600 Norwegian sailors what Bigfoot was to early 20th century American lumberjacks: A rumored creature spotted briefly but never confirmed, probably based on glimpses of actual animals that were exaggerated over time. Øie follows this lead by basing his “Kraken” in modern ecological concerns. One of the first scenes is of the salmon farm manager showing off a fossilized arrow head. It’s been uncovered because global warming is melting glaciers. Rather than take this as a deeply concerning sign of how man-made industry is changing nature, the guy instead turns it into a sales pitch. Capitalism has no regard for the natural order of things. The dead bodies are piling up. The businessmen are specifically warned against continuing forward. They do it all anyway, further awakening the wrath of a giant monster. In the modern era, Godzilla and his brethren have been distanced from their atomic origins and made more general symbols of anxieties over climate change. “Kraken” applies this same idea to the very Norwegian landscape, of scenic fjords and fishing boats. 

This is also, you’ll notice, a similar plot point to “Jaws” and its ocean of imitators. Rather than have a mayor insisting that the Beaches Are Open, because the tourism industry will take a hit, you’ve got a fishing exec demanding progress be sped up to meet investor demands. This is only the most obvious cue “Kraken” takes from Hollywood blockbusters. The giant monster is proceeded by smaller parasites. They look a lot like the Facehuggers from “Alien.” They act a lot like them too, scurrying around through vents and leaping at people. They also spray caustic black slime, like the Dilophosaurus in “Jurassic Park.” The guy on the receiving end of that ooze is even a tubby technician. The general outline of “Kraken” is reminiscent of a dozen American disaster flicks and monster movies, of an ignored expert being forced to step in and save the day when ignorant capitalist set off a chain reaction of catastrophe. The characters – a rebellious daughter, a stoic ex-lover, a cocky police officer – are all stock part roles too. 

That is what truly keeps “Kraken” from pulling me in, that its cast and characters are never developed beyond familiar clichés. That’s a bummer, because the technical film-making is strong. The special effects are quite good, the enormous tentacles providing a proper sense of scale. The sequences in which the heroine has to crawl through vents while avoiding detection from the parasites are decently suspenseful. The movie is also gorier than I expected, showing us the mutilated remains of the monster’s victims closer than anticipated. The final act, in which we come face to face with the giant eye of the beast, naturally bring some Lovecraftian energy to the motion picture as well. All of this suggests that, with a more layered and unique script, “Kraken” probably could have been a scarier, deeper experience.

A faster pace would’ve helped too. The film is almost exactly ninety minutes long, which is economic by the measure of big budget blockbusters. Despite that, the C’thulhu headed horror doesn’t truly start to slither on-screen until about fifty minutes in. Those horseshoe crabs from hell almost play a bigger role than the marquee distraction. Still, Pål Øie and his team deserve some points. They took a project with a Syfy Channel Original set-up and turned it into something that, if dubbed into English, could play in American multiplexes without raising any eyebrows. Supposedly, the film’s primary financiers have invested big in A.I., causing some to wonder if such technology was used while making “Kraken.” I can certainly see that in the posters, at least. That shows that the money people making this movie did not learn from its moral. May their data centers melt glacial ice, unleashing a beast that crushes their offices. As for the movie, it’s pretty forgettable but I didn’t hate it. [6/10]

Pure Blood (1982)
Pura sangre

The first victim was discovered in November of 1963. Over the next six months, an additional thirteen bodies were uncovered. Most of them were boys. The majority had been assaulted, tortured, and had their hearts pierced with needles. All of them were discovered in unfinished lots and alley ways, referred to by locals as mangones. (Which literally translates to "pastures" but colloquially refers to an open, empty area.) Ultimately, over thirty deaths would be linked to the figure nicknamed the Monster of the Mangones. A perpetrator was never captured, with some speculating that these were unrelated homicides. Either way, it's the kind of macabre and disturbing case that can't help but fascinate. Documentary filmmaker Luis Ospina would be inspired by the case, combining it with the true story of Colombian businessman and coffee magnate Adolfo Aristizabal, to create the 1982 film "Pura sangre." While still fairly obscure on the international scene, subtitled copies do circulate online, giving me a chance to check out more of Columbia's often neglected contributions to the horror genre. 

Roberto Hurtado, an aging leader in the medical and sugar cane industries, has been diagnosed with a rare blood disease. The only thing that will keep him alive are daily, massive transfusions of blood. Specifically blood from young men or boys of a matching types. His son, Adolfo, runs the daily practices of the business while monitoring his father. By chance, he discovers that three of his employees – nurse Florencia, ambulance driver Perfecto, and morgue attendant Ever – have recently committed a grisly murder and assault, strictly for the thrill of it. Adolfo blackmails the trio into continuing this killing spree. As long as they target boys, drain the blood afterwards, and make sure it's transfused to his father. The trio go about their nightly activities, targeting social undesirables like gay men and the impoverished. Soon, reports of a serial killer known as the Monster of the Mangones begin to circulate among the grieving parents and press.

The observation that rich people are like vampires, draining the life blood from the lower class to prolong their unnatural existence, is not exactly novel. The correlation is right there in "Dracula." At times, that seems to be the only point "Pure Blood" has. The film is largely devoted to watching this trio of remorseless serial killers callously targeting their victims, intercut with scenes of the frail old man in his hospital bed and the daily routines of the family business. (Which includes haggling with, and intimidating, sugar cane labor unions.) However, an even darker point does eventually emerge. Roberto is a cadaverous old man. His daily treatments will not save his life, merely make it last a little longer. How does this supposed titan of industry spend the final days of his existence? He pervs on his nurse, watching her undress from secret monitors and telling her what to wear. He makes people read the newspaper to him. He dismisses actual news, caring only about the rise and fall of stocks and fortunes, which often seem to be meaningless metrics. He watches movies on VHS. He likes "Johnny Guitar" but hates "Citizen Kane," demanding his nurse no longer bring him black-and-white movies. I wonder why the story of a rich man who dies unhappy and unsatisfied might bother this guy?

All the while, Roberto is utterly unaware of the sordid activities being carried out to preserve his existence for a few more days. Of the lives lost and destroyed to make sure this sick old man doesn't die for another week. Yes, the rich are like vampires, figuratively and sometimes literally sucking the life force out of the poor to keep themselves alive. They are also entirely protected from the consequences of their actions, unaware of the suffering their trivial existence is responsible for. Roberto Hurtado probably wouldn't care about the kids who die to keep him going but he also doesn't even know, making this condition equally horrific and pathetic. 

The complete unawareness of the old man goes hand-in-hand with the utter callousness of the murderers. When cruising the street for victims, Perfecto points at one kid, who Ever dismisses for being black in as racist a fashion as possible. They hang out in a gay bar, luring in young guys with drugs, because they know that the deaths of gay men are less likely to be taken seriously by the police. After realizing that one of the children they've murdered is the wrong blood type, the trio simply dump the body out of their car and continue on. In addition to being a cold-hearted killer, Ever is also a necrophile, often assaulting the bodies of the victims after they are dead. As he leaves the evidence of such a vile crime behind him, Perfecto merely shrugs it off. That is a consistent quality about "Pure Blood." These killers tell jokes in-between homicides. A late scene depicts them going on a trip to the beach with their families. The only time they come close to being found, they defuse the situation by acting callously and whistling to themselves. That's shit out of a cartoon but why wouldn't it work, in fiction or real life? The way "Pure Blood" captures the disaffected, ruthless fashion of its serial killers is the most chilling thing about it. 

The millionaire motivating the crimes is ignorant. The killers doing the dirty work are heartless. The man in the middle, played by a perfectly deadpan Luis Alberto Garcia, treats it all as a mere business operation. Sugar cane futures, bargaining with union leaders, paying off ice cold psychopaths, it's all the same to this man. That angle informs all of "Pura sangre." Ospina's background in documentaries is apparent in the scenes devoting to showing life in the downtrodden parts of Cali. We see kids in thrown-together Halloween costumes partying and playing as the Advent holiday arrives. Moments like these are captured with the same matter-of-fact quality as watching people snort some cocaine or hang out in their apartment. This is backed by a droning electronic score that further surrounds us with a chilly, isolated atmosphere. Business, whether it be in blood or money, is equally detached from the human element. "Pura sangre" observes the lives of the lost innocents with an intimate, lived-in reality and the actions of the killers like a dispassionate god. 

The result is an unsettling film that is tricky to shake. I went into "Pure Blood" being told it was a dark comedy. I guess this is still true but any chuckles to be found here are more of the rueful, grim type than bemused. Most chilling of all is a final scene that implies all of this is set to begin again, the responsible party unlikely to face any consequences for their actions. There's little information on the English-speaking web about the film, the murders that inspired it, and any other links between these events and real people. What I have been able to find is contradictory and confused. To any Colombian readers better versed in the facts, I apologize for getting any details wrong. What I'm sure of is that "Pure Blood" lays it's thesis out, the social frame work that makes crimes such as these possible, with distressing preciseness. [8/10]

Amazing Stories: Welcome to My Nightmare

Having watched all of the “Psycho” movies earlier this month, now seemed like a good time to watch “Welcome to My Nightmare.” That’s the season two episode of “Amazing Stories” that is an extended homage to Hitchcock’s classic. Harry is a horror obsessed teenage boy and “Psycho” is his favorite. He sets his VHS player up so that the shrieking strings of the shower scene act as his alarm clock every morning. His fixation is such that it’s annoying his family. It’s also annoying Kate, the cute girl next door who inexplicably has a crush on Harry. She asks him to the dance and he fumbles it. Instead, he has a fight with his family and leaves for the movie theater. On his way there, he wishes that his life was more like a movie. This wish comes true but he doesn’t specify which movie. Harry is transported into “Psycho” in the role of Marion Crane, right before the shower scene.

“Welcome to My Nightmare” is the work of Todd Holland, who would go on to direct “The Wizard,” “Krippendorf’s Tribe,” and a bunch of television. He has no relation to Tom Holland, director of “Fright Night” and “Child’s Play,” who probably would’ve been a smarter choice to direct a horror centric episode like this. While it heavily references a terror classic, the tone here is of heavy-handed comedy and mawkish sentimentality. Harry’s family flatly lays out the themes of the episode, explaining that life isn’t a movie. That he needs to focus more on reality than what’s on the screen. His rejection of their suburban lifestyle is similarly broadly explained through dialogue. The episode’s plot literally depends on a shooting star, the kind of waxy whimsy that too often characterized this show. “Amazing Stories” really did feel like a bad imitation of Spielberg and not an actual Spielberg production a lot of the time, didn’t it?

The episode stars David Hollander as Harry, presenting the frightening possibility that someone with the last name of Hollandest is also involved in this production. His performance is broad and exaggerated. He makes stretched, mugging faces. His reaction to ending up inside “Psycho” is one of aghast shock, a note the actor and episode never stops hitting. He is also placed inside a dress, since he’s inhabiting the Janet Leigh role. You would think that a homage to “Psycho” that puts a man in drag would be commenting on the queerness of this source material in some way. No, it’s just a lame sight gag here. There’s no Hitchcockian subtly here, as the episode climaxes with a buffoonish ride down a carnival slide and an equally obvious homage to “It’s a Wonderful Life.” When you consider that the story involves a cute girl having a pre-established attraction to the awkward movie nerd, the whole half-hour feels like bad wish fulfillment. The zombies in one of the fantasy sequences are kind of cool but this one is pretty lame otherwise. [5/10] 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Brain Drain

If nothing else, the “Friday the 13th: The Series” writing team gets points for creativity with this one. The eighteenth episode’s Artifact of Doom is a trepanier. As in a device used for trepanning, the antiquated practice of punching holes in the skull to relieve internal pressure or let out evil spirits. The tool is in the possession of Dr. Pangborn, a scientist working to increase intelligence. His test subject is a simpleton named Harry. The trepanier allows Harry to absorb Pangborn’s smarts into his brain, at the result of leaving the doctor a drooling idiot. Now assuming the doctor’s identity, the villain uses the device to drain his colleague’s intelligence and download them into a gorilla’s brain. Working on the same project is Dr. Viola Rhodes, who happens to be Jack’s old flame. They nearly got married but it didn’t work out. With this mission bringing Jack into her presence, the two resume their relationship. Unfortunately, the brain sucking gizmo and the mad scientist using it endangers their renewed love affair. 

While “Friday the 13th: The Series” has hinted at Jack’s storied past many times, this is the first time it’s become a truly relevant plot point. Reliable character actress Carrie Snodgrass plays Vi and she has strong chemistry with Chris Wiggins. Sometimes simply getting two older performers together is enough to imbue a fictional interaction with some gravitas. Everyone has made mistakes, left somebody behind that they miss, wonder what their life might have been if things had worked out. Playing on that gives this episode way more pathos than your usual “Friday the 13th” episode. Naturally, this love affair is destined to end in tragedy. Seeing Jack get seriously pissed off at the villain of the week, violently seeking vengeance, provides some true novelty to this one. The note this one ends on is of resigned sadness, of regrets with no solution and once cherished memories that now only sting. As it too often goes in life.

Such a poignant subplot contrasts sharply against an otherwise typical episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” Denis Forest, who previously appeared in “Cupid’s Quiver,” inexplicably adopts a German accent upon becoming smarter. His invention features a brain floating in a tank of fluid, a microphone picking up its grumbling thoughts somehow. The climax of this episode is extremely silly, with a slow-motion scream and a close-up on a goofy facial expression. I admittedly don’t know much about trepanning but I don’t think it involved such an elaborate machine, with a swinging blade and tubes transporting spinal fluid. There is a decent suspense scene, in which Ryan and Micki are stalked through a storage room. Otherwise, the A-plot is typical ridiculous shenanigans, while Jack’s arc is much more moving. Makes for an odd back-and-forth but I'll still give this one an above-average grade. [7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 22nd

Iron Lung (2026)

Up until very recently, I had no idea what a "Markiplier" was. I had seen the name bandied about in discussions of popular YouTubers and LetsPlayers. However, I don't find watching other people play video games to be that interesting so never investigated further. When I started to see buzz over "Iron Lung," a movie this Markiplier fella had made, I assumed it would be another sloppy vanity project by a random internet celebrity with little actual talent. When "Iron Lung's" release approached earlier this year, the director/writer/star's extensive fan base launched a campaign to expand the initial planned distribution of only 60 theaters to as many as possible. "Iron Lung" would instead play in over 4000 American theaters, a wide release by any estimation, and become a surprise box office hit. A genuine grass roots, independent success like that certainly caught my attention. Then some folks whose opinions I trust stated the movie was actually good too. Once I learned the claim that the film broke the record for most fake blood used in any horror picture was apparently legitimate I had to see it, to maintain genre nerd cred or something. Also my wife wanted to watch it so here we go, diving into "Iron Lung."

In addition to my ignorance about the film's star, I am also unfamiliar with the indie video game it is an adaptation of. This is my best estimation of the plot of "Iron Lung," as far as I could parse it: The story is set in the far future, after mankind has colonized space. Furthermore, it's set after a mysterious apocalypse known as the Quiet Rapture has wiped out most of humanity. On an alien moon covered with a sea of blood, a lone convict has been tasked with piloting a rickety submarine into the red depths. He receives orders from officials above, who are directing him to snap photographs of the ocean floor. It seems he is expected to find something, though is not told what exactly. What he does seem to find is a massive skeleton of an unknown alien life form. If he retrieves part of the bones and brings it to the surface, he'll supposedly be granted his freedom. As the journey goes on, we learn more about the pilot's backstory, the events surrounding the Quiet Rapture, more details about this mission, and that the apparent "skeleton" is actually very much alive. 

Being in unknown territory here myself, I can't truly rate "Iron Lung" as a take on an obscure, lore-heavy video game nor as "the Markiplier movie." However, I am pretty familiar with single location horror films. Considering the popularity of the enclosed space thriller, I'm surprised nobody has tried to make a movie set aboard a tiny submarine before. Certain recent events have shown how perilous such a journey is and it seems like a premise ripe with horror. In that regard, I think "Iron Lung" does a good job. The title comes from the nickname for the sub. It's a fitting description of a cramped, purely industrial vehicle filled with low-tech meters, clunky controls, analog monitors, and glowing buttons. The protagonist's only link to the surface world is a shitty radio speaker. His only peek at what's around him are the flashes captured by that giant x-ray camera, which provide vague hints at best. Save for a few flashbacks, "Iron Lung" rarely leaves this setting. Meaning the viewer is trapped in here too, with only slightly less context than the pilot. The danger becomes apparent immediately, as mechanical warnings hint at a limited oxygen supply and the overall rough quality of the submarine seems destined to fail at any point. Deep sea diving is scary to begin with. "Iron Lung" further ups the stakes by making the dive into a sea of blood, upon an unstable world, aboard a vessel clearly made from whatever materials were available. I don't think the script had to include a Lovecraftian eldritch abomination or the fate of the human race beyond that but it shows "Iron Lung's" commitment to being a claustrophobic horror experience. 

That commitment doesn't mean much if we don't care about the hero or the story though. Alright, so how does this Markiplier guy do as a filmmaker and actor? "Iron Lung" is well shot. Cinematographer Philip Roy manages to make the small space cinematic, without sacrificing how uncomfortable it is for the protagonist. The "used future" aesthetic is clearly indebted to "Alien" but the effects are still well done. Moreover, the low, ominous lighting and threat of blood dripping into the interior keeps things creepy. The blurry photographs we get of whatever is hunting the submarine are effective. They create an impression of a weird, giant, angler fish-like threat while still leaving plenty of room for the imagination to elaborate. The script does a good job of emphasizing how bleak this situation is. By slowly revealing more details about why the pilot is a prisoner, about what he did that was so atrocious, the film creates a properly hopeless feeling. This is a good setting for a story about the human spirit to fight and survive, no matter how uneven the odds. And Mark "Iplier" Fischbach is a functional leading man. He reminds me of a young Keanu Reeves and I mean that as a compliment. I don't know if he sells the depth of emotion and passion the part was calling for. I'm also not sure if he is compelling enough a presence to anchor an entire movie. However, I've also seen way less convincing performances from other would-be auteurs, so kudos for what the guy pulls off. 

The places where "Iron Lung" falls behind a bit are more standard. Namely, narrative coherence and pacing. The movie is over two hours long. This is largely thank to a lengthy sequence in the middle where the pilot is adrift in an unknown cave system, trying to navigate his way out. The film can never make it entirely clear how he figures out exactly where he is or where he is going. It seems to involve a lot of math and lines drawn on a graph. Furthermore, this sequence is also where the protagonist starts to hallucinate, always a dicey way to keep an isolated, mostly single character story moving. These scenes drag the forward momentum of the film down. They also seem to exist mostly to expand on the back story. Despite the extensive peeks we get at what has happened before these events and its ramifications for the rest of the universe, I still didn't have a clear idea of a lot of the plot details until I read a plot synopsis. I think all the things the film does well could have been done without the elaborate sci-fi backstory or far-out alien setting. (Though the cool factor of a "sea of blood" does count for something.) I do think some of these flaws are inherited from a style of source material heavy on "environmental storytelling" and an emphasis on mythos you can fill a fan wiki with. "Five Nights at Freddy's" and its consequences have been a disaster for the horror genre or something. 

Overall, I'm inclined to say my impression of "Iron Lung" is a mostly positive one. Not everything the story wants to get across is clear. However, perhaps that is fitting. As with past low budget homage to Lovecraft, "The Outwaters," I think the audience being as clueless as to what is happening as the protagonist becomes a good way to properly convey the disorientating aspect of cosmic horror. We might have been intended to take away more from "Iron Lung" but what I got is that this is a guy of average intelligence having a deep sea encounter with some bizarre, inhuman intelligence who seems to regard us puny flesh-bags with contempt. A more elaborate update of Howard Phillip's "Dagon," in other words. There's also some grisly body horror effects as the film goes on, the submarine's pipes and steel seemingly being replaced with veins and flesh. That idea is taken to some nicely gruesome places before the end. I didn't understand why all these things were happening but I thought they were interesting. It comes closer than some to capturing what is actually interesting about this subgenre to me. 

If there's been no other lesson we can take away from the horror hits of 2026, it's that we better get used to tomorrow's hot directors starting off as today's Youtuber. I don't know if Fischbach has the technical talent of some of these similar success stories. Mistakes are made here and they are of the type that might be more intrinsic than formal. A guy supported by millions of enthusiastic fans online, instead of fellow editors and artisans making informed decisions, is probably always going to make something that is too long or too invested in its own concepts. At the same time, I have to admire his chutzpah in getting his movie in front of people. If filmmakers wanna leverage the following they've built up through making faces at video game footage, so be it. "Iron Lung" ain't bad and even does some things well. [7/10]

Bridge to Nowhere (1986)

In the Whanganui National Park, of New Zealand's North Island, resides the Mangapurua Gorge and the stream that runs through it. In 1917, the government attempted to turn the surrounding land into farms for soldiers returning home from World War I. In the thirties, a 130 foot long concrete bridge was constructed across the gorge. The intention was to eventually build connecting roads on either side, to create vehicular access to nearby ports. However, the remoteness of the area and the soil's inability to support crops doomed the settlement. Following a major flood in 1942, the project was abandoned altogether. The bush reclaimed the land and consumed most signs that people once lived and worked there... Except for that bridge, which still stands, unlinked to any roads or paths. People call it the Bridge to Nowhere and it's a popular tourist attraction for hikers and mountain bikers. It is also, you might recognize just from the sounds of it, a great location for a horror movie. American screenwriter Bill Baer, producer Larry Parr, and beloved New Zealand character actor Ian Mune thought the same thing. With Mune directing, "Bridge to Nowhere" came together as a modest thriller in 1986. Much like the farmlands that birthed it, the movie has mostly fallen into obscurity save for adventurous types willing to hunt it down. 

Five youths set out for a weekend excursion into the New Zealand wilderness, with the titular bridge being their primary destination. Tanya and her quiet brother, Carl, leave following an argument with their parents. They are joined by Tanya's rowdy boyfriend, Leon, and two additional friends, couple Julia and Gray. The group expects to be alone with nature on this trip but soon discover this is not the case. Mac, an isolated cattle farmer who lives with a much younger girl named Lise, works and lives nearby. After Leon attempts to shoot one of Mac's cows, tensions start to flare between them. After Leon tries to assault Tanya, he flees into the woods and discovers Mac's cabin... And spies on Mac and Lise in a romantic moment. A fight ensues, violence following. Soon, Mac is pursuing Tanya and her friends across the forest. He's determined to eliminate any witnesses to his crime, tracking the kids with his hunting dogs and picking them off one by one with his rifle.

On paper, “Bridge to Nowhere” reads essentially like a hybrid of “Deliverance” and a slasher movie. It has the same set-up, of a group of suburbanites heading into the wilderness for a vacation and running afoul of the locals. Mac is not quite a depraved hillbilly type. At first, I thought Lise might be his daughter, which would've made the revelation of their sexual relationship fit that stereotype. Instead, apparently they are just a couple with a visible age gap. Meanwhile, the cast of characters are all youths, still navigating their identities and social boundaries. Essentially, the film sticks characters you could find in “Just Before Dawn” or “Without Warning” into a “Hunter's Blood” or “Southern Comfort” type scenario. Having man revert to his savage nature out in the wilderness is a gimmick that usually works for me. When set among the especially scenic New Zealand landscapes, it makes for an even nicer contrast. The verdant woods and cascading leaves truly ups the feeling of isolation here. 

While “Bridge to Nowhere” superficially resembles the set-up of a slasher movie, it's not paced like one. The film takes its time before the danger becomes apparent. Mac doesn't begin to cut the teens down until about half-way through the film. It's a little while longer before the kids realize they are in danger. The stalking scenes are devoted more to the guy's (adorable) dogs trailing the kids as they attempt to put distance between them and their threat. The result is a film that slowly ramps up the tension, the situation growing more desperate before the youths and their hunter come to blows. This slow increase of suspense is furthered by the murderer mostly using a rifle as his weapon of choices. That gives him the advantage of distance and surprise, making the teens seemed more actively endangered than in your usual Jason flick. By the time the last man standing goes hand-to-hand with their pursuer, “Bridge to Nowhere” successfully reaches a frantic pitch. 

Rather than have a final girl, like most body count flicks, “Bridge of Nowhere” has a Final Boy. Matthew Hunter plays Carl, as a stoic and sensitive type who is more interested in observing than acting. He has the arc, of a shy and unassuming youth who has to rise to the occasion and fight off the attacker. That choice also points to the somewhat understated nature of the film's writing. The script does not develop all its cast members equally. Gray and Julia are indistinct hanger-ons, never quite emerging as anything other than The Other Ones. Leon and Tanya, meanwhile, spend a bit more time than is appreciated screaming at each other. That Mac and his dysfunctional relationship with Lise are the most interesting characters in the film is probably another example of the unbalanced writing here. Bruno Lawrence plays the man with a steely quality that makes his actions, no matter how rash, seem calculated and reasonable. Meanwhile, Alison Routledge as Lise seems to be prone to mental instability. I found myself wanting to know more about what the hell the exact dynamic between these two was. 

I'm not sure the film is too interested in women. Leon is introduced stealing a rifle from his dad's gun vault, as if firearms are totems of masculine power. When him and Gray first find a swimming hole, they strip off their clothes and leap in, whangs flopping around. Later, they trick Carl – who is introduced shirtless and wears a mesh shirt – into taking a fart right to the face. Yes, there is a bit of casual homoeroticism at play. I don't think this is merely an example of an eighties movie accidentally bending towards queer subtext. To contrast against Carl's calm, perhaps even submissive nature, Leon is a hyper-sexual braggart. He is also pushing forward into wilder displays of courage, as if he's eager to prove his bravery and worth. When he gets a young woman all alone, his instinct do not veer toward romance but violence. Is “Bridge to Nowhere” making some sort of statement about toxic masculinity? I'm inclined to say yes, which makes the decision to not play the villain as some sort of raging, egregiously macho type an odd one. Mac is rustic and virile but not in a way that especially contrasts with Leon's teen boy insecurities or Carl's unassuming softness. 

In other words, “Bridge to Nowhere” is not a perfectly constructed and concise thrills machine. It is unevenly paced, with a cast that isn't fully realized, and unfulfilled ideas at its margins. At the same time, there's a humbleness at play here that can't help but charm me. The novelty of the location goes a long way, as does the natural isolation of the beautiful scenery. The film sets out with modest expectations, knowingly utilizing well-worn genre frameworks, and does a good job playing within that field. The film goes to credits almost immediately after the climax, suggesting to me that the filmmakers were well aware that this was destined to be a bite-sized, relaxed gem and not a blockbuster super-smash. That's just fine with me and I would recommend this one, to horror dorks who need something they probably haven't seen that is well executed but also won't demand their attention too closely. [7/10]

Tales from the Darkside: The Odds

This has been a hard year for fans of cult cinema and television. Unfortunately, enough time has passed that beloved performers of the eighties and nineties are starting to pass away. Among one of the notable names to shuffle off this mortal coil was the great Tom Noonan, whose height and off-beat aura saw him cast as many villains in beloved films. He also did TV sometimes, such as a memorable early episode of “Tales from the Darkside.” “The Odds” concerns Tommy Vale, a bookie who never turns down a bet and, accordingly, never turns down battering those that fail to pay up. A mysterious tall man in a white hat appears in his bar one day. He makes improbable bets that, somehow, always pay off. Tommy's buddy, who is always tinkering with a chiming electronic calculator, says the man resembles Bill Lacey. That was an old customer of Vale's, who took a still unsolved dive off a bridge not that long ago. Shortly after the suspicion that this could be Lacey's grown son, or the man himself returned from the grave for revenge, the visitor makes another bet: That Tommy Vale will be dead by eight o'clock tonight.

“The Odds” is not an episode wide in scope. The entire story takes place in Tommy Vale's bar and there's only three or four characters. It's a tale from the dark side without any monsters. The supernatural elements are subtle and could be considered ambiguous. Despite that, it is a compelling half-hour of television. That's largely because of the two actors playing against each other here. In one corner, we have Mr. Noonan, putting on an outrageous guideo accent. He smiles like he knows a secret and has an ideal twinkle of sinister intent in his eyes. It's an proper use of Noonan's unique star power. Opposite him is another great character actor, Danny Aiello. This is the exact type of tough guy, Mafia-adjacent role that Aiello specialized in. With simply a look or a particular line read, he summons up a cock-sure intelligence or a calculating exactness. He never raises his voice but prove a threatening presence nevertheless.

Watching these two bounce off each other is worthwhile. When the ghostly element appears, I really like how casually Aiello accepts it. Like the E.C. Comics that inspired “Tales from the Darkside,” this is a story of a crooked bastard getting what's coming to him. Like the fairy tales and folk stories that inspired those comics, it's also a riff on a common storytelling idea. Namely, that you cannot cheat the devil out of what he's owed. The twist ending of “The Odds” comes right before the end credits, the episode really making you wait for that pay-off. It's a satisfying conclusion, albeit one heavily foreshadowed. Despite that and its humble resources, this is a good “Tale.” It's also a fitting tribute to Noonan and Aiello's talents, two performers who could do a lot with very little. [7/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Baron's Bride

I don't know how much Frank Mancuso Jr. and the gang cared about specific episode milestones. However, the production team did whip up something kind of special for the thirteenth episode of “Friday the 13th: The Series.” “The Baron's Bride” begins with a guy name Frank inquiring about a room for rent in a stately old mansion. The hostess keeps mentioning her late husband and leaves an old cape with an ornate jewel on it out in the room, which Frank is compelled to try on. This is the object Ryan, Micki, and Jack are seeking this week, an old baron's cape said to make the wearer irresistible to women. There's more though, because the homeowner is... A vampire! She bites Frank before the Curious Goods trio burst into the room. The now vampiric, cape-wearing renter grabs Ryan and Miki and finishes saying the incantation the vampiress was speaking a minute ago. This sends all three of them back in time to 1860s England. Now they have to stop a vampire killer on the loose in Whitechapel and figure out how to get home. Oh yeah, Miki is also starting to fall under the cape's allure. The gang gets assistant from a Scottish author named Abraham and Caitlin, whose true identities should be easy enough to guess...

Yes, “The Baron's Bride” is “Friday the 13th: The Series”” homage to “Dracula.” Not only Stoker's novel either. The minute the setting shifts back in time to Victorian London, the episode switches to black-and-white. This is not simply an example of the colors being de-saturated. Cinematographer Rodney Charters and director Bradford May were clearly fans of the classic Universal Monster movies. (May was previously the D.P. on “The Monster Squad,” so this is not surprising.) The shadows are very deep and dark, accented by moody grays. There's a fair bit of fog and shots of the vampire lurking around the urban back alleys. Some ambiance taken from Tod Browning and Karl Freund is not the only classic horror throwback here. Frank looks more like Langella's Dracula in his cloak but, upon removing the cape, his hands become elongated claws and his face takes a rat-like visage, “Nosferatu” style. In general, this is a slightly freakier vampire than your usual bloodsucker, fangs longer and mouth wider than a demure Dracula. 

Beyond the strong visuals and nods to old monster movies, I also enjoy how this episode's premise keeps escalating. You assume it's going to be an average “Friday the 13th,” simply about a cursed piece of evening wear reeking havoc. That's before the introduction of straight-up vampires, a supernatural threat previously not established in this universe and unrelated to the usual demonic knickknacks. And then the gang is shot back in time, another gimmick tossed atop this set-up. Simply dropping Ryan and Micki into a new setting is fun. Robey being enthralled by a vampire allows her to broaden her acting a bit, getting to be a femme fatale in a scene or two. The true identity of “Abraham” is immediately obvious the minute I heard his accent. Eighties genre TV loved secret origin stories like this. Also, I continue to be surprised by how gory this show was allowed to get, as its stakes through the hearts are bloodier than anticipated. Bradford May would go on to direct the lame “Darkman” sequels, which would've benefit from some of this classic horror energy. [7/10]