Halloween 2026: September 26th

Resident Evil (2026)

After the surprise critical and commercial success of "Barbarian," people were ready to declare former Whitest Kid U' Know Zach Cregger the next great horror director. I always have a "wait and see" attitude with these kinds of things. "Weapons" proved that Cregger is a distinctive voice in the genre, willing to tackle big ideas without sacrificing thrills and hollers. I was disappointed to hear that his next project would be an adaptation of a mega-popular, long-running video game series. "Resident Evil" has already spawned somewhere between seven and twelve feature films. There had already been a new movie and streaming series, after Paul W.S. Anderson and Milla Jovovich moved on to ruin another Capcom video game, and the response was unenthusiastic. Were we losing a bold new voice in the genre to the franchise machine? Or was this an example of an auteur leaping onto a familiar property because he was genuinely a huge fan? Well, the movie is out now so it is time to decide. 

Bryan is a simple medical courier. He makes one more delivery for the night before heading home to his newly pregnant girlfriend, the two uncertain about whether to keep the fetus. While at the hospital, he's asked to take on another rush delivery. He's promised a bonus to deliver an insulated package to Raccoon City General Hospital. It's snowing and the roads are perilous but he takes on the mission anyway. While driving the back roads, a strange woman walks in front of his car and is struck. This is the first sign that something crazy is going on. Bryan has unwittingly been chosen to deliver part of an anti-virus that can stop an unleashed bio-weapon in the process of ravaging the world. 

When the first trailer for Cregger's "Resident Evil" came out, and fans didn't see Jill Valentine tank-controlling through Spencer Mansion, there was some outcry. Indeed, Cregger's film is not an adaptation of any of the games and features none of the franchise's reoccurring characters. While a Rebecca Chambers cameo would've been nice, this approach allows for something clever. Cregger is more interested in adapting the experience of playing a "Resident Evil" game than any specific plot. Our protagonist is exploring environments he's unfamiliar with, with no idea what kind of threat might be around the next corner. When Bryan gets a hold of a firearm, he must carefully conserve ammunition. His journey is repeatedly thwarted by padlocks he doesn't have keys for. The focus is on what choices he'll make with the resources available to him in risky situations. We see evidence of past events that had happened in these locations, hints at other stories playing out in this world, but that's not the tale this "Resident Evil" is telling. As in most games, we are stuck with this guy, on this adventure, as he tries to survive it. 

It's an interesting approach to a big problem often facing video game movies. Namely, the vastly different pacing needs of each medium. Cinema is telling you a story, while gaming is about you enacting that story or experience. Most games keep things novel and challenging by throwing new enemies or puzzles at the player, the kind of perpetual escalation that film can't usually support. By attaching solely to one guy's trek, Cregger hopes to emulate that structure while still making "Resident Evil" feel like a movie. Bryan is repeatedly running through new areas with obstacles unique to them. The longer "Resident Evil" goes on, the more this approach strains. He crawls down into a sewer and sees some freaky shit about to attack him. A run through a city street is hastened by zombies falling from the rooftops. By the time he's clinging onto an elevator slowly being chipped away by acid from overhead, "Resident Evil's" attempt to latch a video game's framework to the flow of a motion picture is clearly favoring one style over the other. 

You never want your movie to feel like a YouTube play through video. Cregger's film comes dangerously close to that territory at times. However, if this "Resident Evil" is mostly just one set piece after another, it must be said that they are good set pieces. The film is successful at deploying a new bit of freaky body horror in such a way as to shock, surprise, and freak out the viewer. Another element taken right from the games is the hero perpetually being pursued by the same unstoppable monster throughout: A tentacled parasite always adding more victims to a Katamari Damacy of flailing limbs. This keeps tension up throughout, balancing a fear of what's coming up behind you with what you might face ahead. That's best shown during a fabulous freak show in a hospital maternity ward and a sequence where Bryan must choose between an incoming horde of zombies and an extremely perilous bridge. "Resident Evil" takes the tricks from the games and applies them to the task of making a scary monster movie. It's mostly pretty successful. 

Cregger's film is often cheeky about what it's doing. There's a few shots clearly emulating the perspective of a first-person shooter. The script outright acknowledges that real life doesn't work like a video game. The film definitely seems to be asking us what we would do in these situations – the best of which involves a dismembered torso being dragged further into the darkness – if the controller was in our hands. That question of "How would you do it?" is furthered by the film's hero not being a highly trained special agent or super-powered zombie killer. Instead, Bryan is just a guy, pasty and stubbly and in way over his head. He has no expertise with guns, a good running joke. His only extraordinary quality is his sheer determination to keep moving forward, of staying focused on that mission of delivering this package. Star Zach Cherry doesn't play this as indomitable courage. Instead, it feels a bit like Bryan is too stupid to know that he doesn't have to run towards danger. It's a funny way to approach your horror movie hero, someone so laser focused on simply doing their job that they accidentally become brave. I guess this kid really needs that extra paycheck. Don't we all? 

An emotional through line focusing more on how we're all trapped in the hellscape of late stage capitalism would probably be more involving than the standard subplot about Bryan's girlfriend and possible future child. Every scene devoted to that truly feels like the movie stopping to say "This is a poignant, thematically relevant moment." "Barbarian" and "Weapons" had a similar bluntness about their ideas, so I suppose this is a trademark of Cregger's. His "Resident Evil" doesn't always nail its goal of blending a video game's anatomy with a film's direction. It is still a fun time at the movies. The lead is likable. The thrills hit. The monsters are freaky. There's a bunch of blood, slime, gunk, and grime. The ending is surprising. I would call that a success. [7/10]

Shake, Rattle & Roll (1984)

If you were to perform an internet search for the horror film series with the most installments – or, god forbid, ask an LLM – the answer you’d get would probably be wrong. Seventeen “Witchcraft” movies and fifteen or so “Puppet Master” films are certainly achievements of some sort. If one were to tally up all the movies with “Amityville” in the title, which I hesitate to call a “series” exactly, the number would surely be staggering. Such view points are distressingly English language centric, however. A look to Asia reveals several fear franchises that dwarf most American long-runners. A 1997 Hong Kong film called “Troublesome Night” has spawned 19 sequels. Another contender is “Shake, Rattle & Roll.” That is a Filipino anthology series that began in 1984, with the seventeenth and most recent installment having been released just last year. The stories are often inspired by the Philippines’ rich local folklore, with new installments usually coming around Christmas time. It would seem trying to run the entire series every December is an annual tradition among Pinoy horror fans. While the films remain frustratingly unavailable in my corner of the world, I was able to find a copy of the original with English subtitles.

“Shake, Rattle & Roll” begin with “Baso.” Paolo, his partner Girlie, and their mutual friend Johnny gather in a spooky old house to play Spirit of the Glass. That’s an Ouija-like game of divination performed with a scroll of paper and a drinking glass. They unwittingly summon the restless spirits of three people, trapped in a love triangle, who died during the Spanish colonial era. In “Pridyider,” Lorna and her daughter Virgie move into a home that includes a fancy new refrigerator. Maid Nelia is seemingly crushed to death by the refrigerator's door. This is the first of several bizarre incidents involving the appliance. “Manananggal” is about Douglas, a lad living with his grandmother and younger brothers in the Visayan jungles. He is attempting to court Anita, despite his granny’s warnings that she’s a manananggal. Upon seeing Anita separate her upper body from her waist and flying through the night with bat wings, he realizes that this is true.

Of the three stories presented here, “Baso” is both the most traditional and the driest. Young people sneaking into an old dark house to perform a ghostly ritual is about as classical a horror set-up as possible. The darkly lit scenes of the glass slowly spelling out names is well-done. Unfortunately, after that, the segment launches into a long flashback that explains the backstory of the spectral love triangles. The period costumes and details are decently assembled but it still feels more like a historical soap opera than a horror movie. The eventual shift back to the gruesome stuff is hampered a bit by some unconvincing make-up effects. There is still a shock ending of sorts, though the episode concludes so abruptly afterwards that I’m not sure it sinks in exactly. Director Emmanuel H. Borlaza is best known for a romantic fantasy about a mermaid, which might explain why this first story seems to shy away from horror at times. 

The second episode has to overcome what is a silly premise on its face. Refrigerators are not especially mobile devices, nor do they present many options as a murder weapon. “Pridyider” seems somewhat aware of this and attempts to derive horror from visions of dismembered body parts around the fridge instead. Once again, the effects are a bit rubbery, which does little to dispel the notion of goofiness around this one. However, director Ishmael Bernal and cinematographer Ely R. Cruz take the material seriously. “Pridyider” is shot with a patient, quiet intimacy and eroticism, as if the heat coming off the vents of the fridge is making everyone around it hot. When the absurd finale arrives, in which the household appliance seems to develop a sense of lust, it actually feels like a logical extension of the segment’s style up to that point. It makes for an unexpectedly intense finale, despite how difficult it is to take the premise seriously. 

The “Manananggal” sequence is a straight-ahead monster movie and effectively so. There’s a thread of quiet absurdity here too. The events take place during Holy Week, Douglas being accosted by several guys dressed for a passion play. Otherwise, director Peque Gallaga mostly plays the folk tale straight. In its human form, the manananggal is an alluring, exotic presence. The only way to destroy it is to salt and bless the lower half of the body as the vampiric half flies into the night. The first crow of the cock at dawn draws the monster back to its source. The isolation of the jungle setting creates a nicely eerie mood, further emphasized by the shadowy visuals. The segment becomes a siege story in the second half, the family attempting to prevent the winged creature from breaking through the thin walls of their hut. Unlike the other parts of “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” “Manananggal” smartly shoots around the film’s limited budget. There’s only one shot of the titular monster taking flight, conveyed through some awkward animation. Otherwise, the scenes are carefully framed to obscure the lower half of the segmented beast. This surprisingly does little to decrease its threat value. “Manananggal” is a fairly potent mini-monster movie.  

The main reason I’ve decided to seek out international horror movies is to expose myself to other cultures. As horror often does, “Shake, Rattle & Roll” is obviously reflecting the social mores of the country that birthed it. “Baso” is a story about how violence and class separation are reoccurring patterns throughout Filipino history, as it is in history everywhere. “Pridyider” seems especially focused on the plight of young women, at the mercy of predatory men. The possessed fridge seems to act on the most violent impulses of the perverted groundskeeper or Virgie’s handsy boyfriend. Director Bernal seems mostly known for his social dramas, often focused on the struggles of women in Manila, making this angle unsurprising. While “Mananangal” is largely a straight-ahead adaptation of the folklore that birthed it, it’s speaking to social issues as well. Douglas and his family are practicing Christians, often praying to a small religious alter. The eponymous monster is a symbol of native paganism, linked to lust and mystery. This makes the story an encapsulation of the conflict between the Philippines’ extremely Christian modern existence and its still lingering shamanistic roots.

Out of the three directors who worked on this first “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” Gallaga is also the only one who would extensively return to horror later in his career. He contributed segments to the next three entries in the series and made a few other monster movies, also inspired by the Philippines’ rich history of legendary creatures. (Though he worked in a variety of genres, including historical war epic, erotica, and light-hearted fantasy.) In other words, “Shake, Rattle & Roll” is both extremely Filipino and fairly entertaining in its own right. The most restored edition of the film still has some visually degraded moments and the ending of “Pridyider” is lost, making that segment’s conclusion very abrupt as well. While campy and goofy at times, the presentation won me over long before the end. I don’t know if that’s enough to build sixteen sequels on but I liked it. By the way, as far as I can tell, the actual answer to the question of which horror franchise has the most installments is “Honto ni Atta! Noroi No Video.” That’s a direct-to-video Japanese series, compilations of spooky footage, with somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 installments. “Shake, Rattle & Roll” isn’t that populous but I did have a good time with it. I guess, if I keep doing a global theme for my Halloween marathons, I’ve got a Filipino pick settled for the next sixteen years… [7/10]

The Twilight Zone (1985): The Toys of Caliban

Before "A Song of Ice and Fire" made him a literary superstar, George R.R. Martin was a humble science fiction and horror writer, struggling to make a living. After one of his earlier novellas received a low budget adaptation, Martin found a contact with the film world. That's how he got a regular gig writing for the 1985 revival of "The Twilight Zone." He provided teleplays for five episodes, mostly in the second season, and the best regarded of the lot seems to be "Toys of Caliban." It concerns Toby Ross, a boy with a developmental disability. He is seemingly in his late teens but with the mentality of a toddler. His elderly parents, Ernie and Mary, isolate the boy from the world within their apartment full of toys. This is because Toby has the ability to "bring" – physically manifest – any object he sees in a photograph into the home. Any attempt by Toby to manifest living creatures only results in corpses appearing. His parents are fearful of what his powers could do with any more exposure. After "bringing" too many donuts one night and getting a serious tummy ache, Toby's parents are forced to take him to the emergency room. The boy is fine but he catches the attention of a Child Protective Services agent who believes Toby is being abused. This brief glimpse of the outside world has tragic consequences for the family. 

Once again, this autistic adult is forced to tango with one of my least favorite writing tropes, the inelegantly named "Magical Disabled Person." I would prefer to use another word for it but understand that some are offended by the term, even if I'm not. This episode is not so generous and refers to Toby as a word that rhymes with leotard several times. Yes, "Toys of Caliban" is another offering that portrays neurodivergent individuals in a patronizing, dehumanizing manner. Toby's parents are depicted as the ones who are suffering, while their overgrown infant of a son lives in a world of blissful ignorance. He is so dangerous that they have no recourse but to lock him away forever. Alexandre Borrie's CPS agent points out that resources and classes the elderly Rosses might be unfamiliar with are available to help their son. Toby's dad knows better and insists the kid stay in a windowless home forever. This is still not enough to protect the family and the final scene of "Toys of Caliban" offers a frankly offensive solution. The poor, pathetic simpleton, the only way out for them and their beleaguered N.T. sires is to put them all down like a sick dog. (The penultimate scene has the dad rubbing Toby's head as he kneels at his feet and calling him a "good boy," making the dog comparison fairly literal.) 

The resulting episode is often cringe-inducing. David Greenlee's blubbering performance as Toby reaches "Simple Jack" levels immediately. I'm pretty sure his jubilant but agonized cries of his own name must have been an inspiration for "South Park's" Timmy. It's difficult to look at "Toys of Caliban" as anything but an embarrassing misfire from another era, using the difficulties functional human beings live with because their brain chemistry or bodies are a little different from the majority as nothing but a gimmick to lure tears out of weepy viewers. And it's a bummer too, because I think this episode could've worked without making Toby a regressive stereotype. One of the most famous episodes of the original "Twilight Zone" features a youngster with unfathomable psychic powers and it accurately observes that a regular kid is scary enough without making them "special." 

Richard Mulligan gives a good performance as an exhausted, heart-broken father and Anne Haney has a sad fragility about her as the mother. (Even if her big monologue essentially boils down to, once again, how hard Toby's condition is on his parents.) There's two decent shocks in this episode, when Toby's literalness results in him teleporting two bits of fleshy horror into the home. However, , it's difficult to regard "Toys of Caliban" with anything but aghast grimaces and bemused bafflement that such a hilariously insensitive portrayal was ever acceptable. I don't hold it against George R.R. Martin though. All writers gotta eat, even if it means turning someone else's horrible story into a coherent screenplay. [3/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: The Electrocutioner

The seventeenth episode of "Friday the 13th: The Series" does not feature a C-list Batman villain. Instead, it's an entry into the eighties' most minor of horror trends: Stories about murderers who return from a sit in the electric chair to kill again, sometimes with electricity-themed superpowers. The condemned is Eli Pittman, a dental student wrongfully convicted of murdering his girlfriend in 1978. Despite getting two jolts in Ol' Sparky, Pittman survives. Since you can't legally execute someone for the same crime twice, he is set free apparently. (I'm not a lawyer but wouldn't they be able to further detain him for the standing murder conviction?) A decade later, Pittman has reinvented himself as a dentist in a halfway house for troubled teens. He's held onto the electric chair intended to kill him, actually one of Lewis Vendredi's cursed artifacts. Now, Pittman shocks orphaned teens no one will miss in the chair and, in return, gets electric shock powers. He's using those to seek vengeance on all who convicted him. Micki, Ryan, and Jack are on the case. 

"The Electrocutioner" was written and directed by Rob Hedden. Presumably, it was this episode that convinced Frank Mancuso Jr. that Hedden was the right man to make "Friday the 13th Part VIII." "Jason Takes Manhattan" is probably my least favorite film in the series and it's largely because of the  melodramatic direction, childish screenplay, and a tone indecisively placed between self-aware camp and ostensibly a serious attempt at horror. All of these flaws are apparent here. The episode starts with a fairly well done flashback to Pittman's execution, which is shot in grainy black-and-white and features some stylized camera angles. However, as the execution attempt begins, Pittman screams towards the heavens. This is the first of many very silly touches in the episode. Any time Pittman plots his revenge, we return to that flashback, now presented as everyone pointing and laughing at him. One shot has his screaming face superimposed on the image, a very cheesy looking choice. All of the murder scenes are made laughable because the actors playing the victims make goofy faces as they contort around. There's also an inexplicable jump scare involving a plume of steam shooting out of a wall, a gag I'm pretty sure Hedden repeated in his Jason movie. 

This approach, either deeply un-serious or miscalculated, is evident in Hedden's script too. The story bends in some odd directions. Every time Pittman kills a runaway teen in his chair, they are reduced to a pile of steaming clothes. That's weird. Why does that happen? Later, Jack hunts the killer down by magnifying a needle and making a compass with it, to track Pittman's electric charge. Was this Mr. Wizard moment truly the smoothest way to get to that plot point? In general, the central trio act rather broad in this episode. Ryan is introduced playing with a glow orb while listening to shitty rock music, a story beat that comes back around for a lame joke in the last scene. Micki is treated like a genius fir suggesting that more people were responsible for an execution order than those simply shown in a photograph. 

The half-assed, senseless quality to the writing is most clearly seen in the villain. Angelo Rizacos plays the dentist-turned-electrocutioner and it's a hammy performance. He looks like "Weird" Al and generally acts like a nerd, which is not the most intimidating of choices. Mostly, I'm baffled by the decision to make the villain both wrongfully convicted and a remorseless killer. The way he callously kills random teenagers is obviously a writing choice to void any sympathy the audience might feel towards him. I guess Pittman was only pissed because he was charged with a crime he didn't do, not by the concept of murder itself. Those visions of being laughed at and persecuted are clearly designed to make him look unhinged. I get why he would be pissed but, also, he survived execution and was let go. He even got superpowers out of the deal! Kind of makes you wonder what is driving his need for vengeance. Is the implication that the cursed electric chair – which he makes no attempt to disguise as his dental chair, something you'd think his regular clients would comment on – has driven him mad? But it's not like he was willingly placed in the chair in the first place either. I did like the ironic, final fate of the villain. Hedden does have one or two interesting ideas but this episode is, overall, very silly and juvenile. I'm going to presume that it was not Hedden's creative skills that impressed Mancuso but some quality – his ability to shoot fast and cheap? His personality? His soft and moist lips? – not apparent in that episode itself that got him the feature gig. [4/10]

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]

RECENT WATCHES: Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024)

I was fourteen years old when “Sonic Adventure 2” came out. This means I was right in the target demographic to find Shadow the Hedgehog appealing. In retrospect, it's tricky to overlook how calculated a character Shadow was. The “Sonic the Hedgehog” fandom was already full of original characters that were barely anymore than different colored versions of Sonic. This was an official character with almost the exact same gimmick... Except he was also an edgy antihero with a tragic backstory and a plethora of superpowers. In other words, Shadow the Hedgehog felt a lot like a cheesy original character except he was one hundred percent official. Ashamedly, this strategy worked exactly as planned. Shadow immediately became the second most popular character in the franchise, launching a hundred other O.C.s. When Sega gave him his own game, allowing him to shoot a gun and ride around on a motorcycle, it almost felt like self-parody. 

I wasn't above being caught by this. I too loved Shadow when he first debuted. However, at some point, I woke up to the blatant corporate manipulation at play here and turned on the character. However, Shadow has now been an established part of the “Sonic” universe for over two decades. I've long since made my peace with the character. I would go so far as to call myself a fan of Shadow the Hedgehog, when he's written well. However, how would the character be integrated into the cinematic “Sonic the Hedgehog” universe? That was the question on my mind as I sat down to watch “Sonic the Hedgehog 3,” somehow the third big budget theatrical adaptation of the beloved series. The latest sequel, and Shadow's much-hyped debut, has been well received by fans. What would I, an ever-shrewd old man, think of this?

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles' peaceful lives with the Wachowski is interrupted again when G.U.N. specifically recruits the furry alien heroes. A black hedgehog from the same world as Sonic, but far more powerful, is on a rampage in Tokyo. Kept on ice by G.U.N. for fifty years, this Shadow has a grudge against the organization. He proves too powerful for Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles to defeat on their own. This leads them to forming an uneasy alliance with their greatest enemy, Dr. Robotnik. The new team soon are led to the secret base of Dr. Gerald Robotnik, the villain's grandfather and the scientist who studied Shadow fifty years ago. He recruits his grandson and Shadow into a plot to activate the Eclipse Cannon, a planet killing weapon he designed. Sonic races to stop villains new and old, the fight quickly getting personal. 

To utilize the inevitable pun, “Sonic the Hedgehog 3's” script hits the ground running. Within the opening minutes, we are being presented with Shadow's back story. Not long after that, Sonic and his friends are already dueling against the new threat. By the half-way point, we've already had alliance switches and betrayals and dramatic revelations, heroes teaming up with villains, villains teaming up with villains, and then breaking apart again. The movie breathlessly races from one plot point, and accompanying set piece, to the next. MacGuffins come and go, heroes chasing after access cards and the Master Emerald. The script looks like it's going to shove in the “Sonic Adventure 2” plot point of G.U.N. chasing Sonic before going in a wholly different direction, which then set-up dramatic heist and confrontations between the good guys. “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” rarely slows down, trying to squeeze as much into its 110 minute run time as possible. I guess this is what happens when you're attempting to tell a blockbuster worthy script but keep it within the runtime restraints of a traditional kid's flick.

Part of why “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” feels stuffed to the brims has to do with a problem that is often encountered in this franchise: There's a lot of characters here. In the returning column, we have Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Tom Wachowski, Maddie, Robotnik, Agent Stone, plus the Olive Garden guy and cameos for Wade Whipple, Maddie's sister, and the undercover G.U.N. Agent she nearly married in the last movie. To this already considerable cast, the film adds Shadow, Gerald Robotnik, Maria via the power of flashbacks, and Krysten Ritter as a new antagonistic G.U.N. commander. If the studio is going to pay recognizable actors like James Marsden and Ritter to be in the movie, it better give them things to do too. All of this must co-exist alongside the story of Shadow and Maria that the fans are truly here to see, as well as new additions these adaptations always feel the need to make. 

Part of why Hollywood struggled so long to adapt video games is because of the wildly different structural needs of both mediums. This has mostly been resolved by movies and games becoming a lot more like each other. The first two “Sonic” movies mostly invented their own narratives, drawing from the extensive back stories of the games, which probably was the best approach to take. “Sonic 3,” meanwhile, is the first movie to truly be adapted one of the game's plots, directly pulling a lot of ideas from “Sonic Adventure 2.” That doesn't mean only Shadow's backstory, as I expected. In the middle section of the film, both the good guys and villains seek access cards, the kind of fetch quest you'd fully expect from a video game. The sequel goes so far as to include the gravity switching gimmick that was so prominent in “Adventure 2's” later levels. One gets the impression that this is the movie Jeff Fowler and his team have really been wanting to make all along, rather than grafting bits and pieces of established “Sonic” elements on traditional kid movie set-ups. 

Fidelity to the source material is a lot less important to me than honoring the characters as we know them. The “Sonic” cinematic universe has increasingly revolved around the idea of family. Sonic finding his new family with the Wachowski defined the first movie, while the second was about him learning responsibility when faced with a sidekick that looked up to him and an equally powerful rival. Family continues to be a heavily touted theme, the script emphasizing Sonic's connection to Tom and how it compares to Shadow being treated his whole life as a science experiment. Robotnik ends up aligning with Gerald largely because his similar want for a bloodline. However, that is secondary to the theme the movie flatly states again and again: “Making good decisions,” as Tom puts it, especially when the world constantly tries to break your heart with its overwhelming awfulness. In other words: Shadow and Sonic both have great power but only one of them has learned great responsibility from a father figure. 

While this is the kind of easily grasped themes and ideas you'd expect from a kid's movie, repeated enough times for the little ones to pick up on it, I do think “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” actually pays proper tribute to its emotional center. The sequel is seriously invested in Shadow the Hedgehog, particularly how the loss of Maria weighs on him. A surprising amount of time is devoted to establishing Shadow and Maria's relationship, via lengthy flashbacks. Though hassled with the franchise's continued obvious soundtrack picks – why is a scene in the seventies featuring a Traveling Wilburies song? – these moments are genuinely adorable. When Maria is inevitably killed, the pain Shadow feels is sincere. As sarcastic as these films get, the emotional stakes remain one hundred percent serious. I didn't expect a “Sonic the Hedgehog” movie to feature a touching depiction of overcoming grief and learning to live beyond that heartache but here we are. 

When it was announced Keanu Reeves was cast as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog, people got excited. This struck me as a little odd. I know Keanu is a beloved pop culture icon these days and I love the guy too. He's not truly a voice actor though, “Toy Story 4” aside. Much like Idris Elba as Knuckles, I can definitely feel some of that awkwardness coming through Reeves' performance. However, Keanu manages to find the heart of the character before the film is over. Ben Schwartz' take on Sonic is well established by now, the actor even getting a chance to stretch his dramatic legs a bit in this installment. I do wish Elba as Knuckles and Colleen O'Shaughnessey weren't increasingly sidelined by the story though, another side effect of the film having so many characters in it.

Following “Sonic the Hedgehog 2,” Jim Carrey announced his retirement and the character's fate in that film seemed potentially final, should the star really not come back. Well, Carrey loves money enough to return for part three, as both Robotnik and his grandfather. This means we get a double-dose of Carrey's manic comedy. The make-up effects that transform him into the 100 year old Gerald are good. In general, the illusion of one actor playing two characters that often interact is pulled off successfully. While Carrey's clownery is amusing, there are multiple moments when his buffoonery becomes difficult to sanction. A dance sequence among security laser or the increasingly nutty finale feel like moments when the star's chaotic energy take over the movie, to its detriment. Robotnik also gets a genuine character arc and I'm not sure Carrey is able to pull it off in-between all his extended mugging. 

Another reason “Sonic 3” feels a little overstuffed is because it has to make room for its human co-stars. Tom and Maddie get a sequence devoted to themselves, in which they sneak into a G.U.N. building in London. It is an inessential sequence, to say the least. Ritter, a decent actress, is given very little to work with as Rockwell. She's simply another obstacle for the heroes to run around. In general, the tension between what the fans most want to see – Sonic and his friends doing stuff – and the need for these films to be live action family-friendly comedy continue to make these unsteady affairs. Except for Lee Majdoub's agent Stone, whose role as Robotnik's loyal sidekick has expanded naturally into a full-on homoerotic will-they-or-won't-they? Majdoub and Carrey's banter continues to be a highlight of these movies.

My continued suspicion that these films would be a lot better if they were entirely animated is furthered by the last act. That's when “Sonic 3” becomes a colorfully directed action flick, the CGI hedgehogs blasting around the world and into outer space with enough verve to outclass some recent, bigger budget superhero flicks. The film also makes sure to get a prominent song on the soundtrack, once again suggesting that Fowler knew exactly what kind of fan service he had to include. I have a lot less investment in “Sonic Adventure 2's” plot than most but it was nice to see a “Sonic” movie truly push the limits of what its hero can do on-screen.

That evident desire to give people exactly what they want continues into the inevitable sequel baiting mid-credits scene. The “Sonic the Hedgehog” movies continue to exist in a bizarre space between special effects driven spectacles and goofy kid movies full of wacky comedy. The compromise agreed upon to make these movies possible continue to stick out badly. If I had seen this during the peak of my teenage Shadow fever, I probably would have loved it. “Sonic the hedgehog 3” feels like a movie primarily made for those people. The older I get, the more ambivalence I have towards franchises existing primarily to appease fans and activate nostalgia-driven dopamine rushes... From a simple factor of loyalty to the source material and on-screen flash, “Sonic 3” is easily the best entry in the series. How I'll feel about it in the future remains to be seen. But at least it beat the "Lion King" prequel at the box office... [7/10]

Halloween 2023: October 29th

Five Nights at Freddy's (2023)

In 2013, unsuccessful Christian game designer Scott Cawthon released "Chipper & Sons Lumber Co." The game was poorly received, with the few who did play it saying the characters were unintentionally creepy and moved like old Chuck E. Cheese's animatronics. Cawthon decided to lean into this with his next release, creating a horror game that featured intentionally creepy animatronics characters. The result, "Five Nights at Freddy's," became an immediate phenomenon, especially with kids. Bolstered by a litany of YouTube reaction videos, the game soon spawned multiple sequels, spin-offs, an obsessive fandom, and a metric fuck-ton of merchandise. Obviously, Hollywood came knocking after that. A film version was announced in 2015, with Blumhouse coming on-board in 2017. After several years in development, filming moved forward with "The Wind's" Emma Tammi directing. The cinematic "Five Nights at Freddy's" reached theaters in time for Halloween of this year, to rabid anticipation from fans and general bafflement from everyone else.

As as a child, Mike Schmidt's brother was kidnapped and presumably murdered by an unknown man. The incident haunts him still and he has reoccurring dreams about it. As an adult, Mike is the caretaker of his younger sister, Abby. Threatened with losing custody of her, Mike takes the only job he can get: a nighttime security gig at an abandoned restaurant/arcade called Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Mike soon discovers that Freddy's is at the center of an unsolved series of child murders from the eighties. Also, the restaurant's rickety animatronic animal band spring to life at night, attacking anyone they deem an intruder. His dreams about his brother intensifying, Mike soon realizes he has to unravel the mystery at Freddy's if he hopes to keep Abby safe. 

I've never actually played any of the "Freddy's" games and am not that familiar with the series. But my girlfriend is a fan, so I've picked up on a few things over the years. I know this universe has quite an elaborate, convoluted backstory. The greatest weakness of the film adaptation is how the script — co-written between Cawthon, Tammi, and "Tragedy Girls" filmmaker Tyler MacIntire — tries to squeeze in as much of that lore as possible. There's often long stops in the pacing devoted to explaining something or setting up a plot device for later use. One character in particular, a beat cop named Vanessa with seemingly nothing else to do, exists primarily to dump expositionary monologues. I guess this is inevitable when you are adapting a game series that delivers it's story more through background details than a forward narrative. The result is a movie that is quite awkwardly paced. Freddy Fazbear doesn't even appear until about forty minutes into the film, with long stretches of the story taking place away from the abandoned pizza parlor. Seems to me that the isolation and atmosphere of its setting is mostly what made the games scary but the movie doubles-down on narrative instead. 

Yet, when the "Five Nights at Freddy's" movie gets out of its own way, it can be effective. I was skeptical if the cute, highly toyetic animatronics could actually be made scary. The fact that I find Freddy and the gang are so goofy looking has been the main roadblock to me getting into this series. Yet the film does occasionally pull it off. The moments when the machines move off-camera, glaring suddenly into the security camera, or their eyes softly glow in the dark, actually work for me. The highlight of the film is a sequence where some intruders enter the parlor and are picked off one-by-one. This is the moment when "Five Nights" feels the most like a throwback slasher movie, devoted to the ol' stalk-and-slash. And it works, largely because the excellent creature effects add a realistic heft and weight to the robots and because the dilapidated setting can genuinely be eerie at times. 

However, "Freddy's" is a franchise mostly beloved by children. You can feel the movie frequently pulling back on the scariness and gore. Which makes the more violent scenes feel tonally out-of-place. But I'm not sure that tonal consistency was a big concern here. The film indecisively dangles the animatronics in-between being figures of fear and misunderstood softies. A long sequence in the middle features the heroes playfully interaction with the robots, even including some broad physical comedy. Moments like this is what most reminds me that this is a movie for eight-year-olds. Eventually, the film decides Freddy and the gang are dangerous monsters with sympathetic origins. Yet that uncertainty does hang in the air, over whether we are supposed to be afraid of the robots or want to give them big hugs. 

I have no idea if Emma Tammi is a "Five Nights" fan girl. I would guess so, as the film feels chained to fan expectations and respect for canon. Yet I do think Tammi makes an overall good-looking movie. The cinematography is solid, with a slow zoom into the neon sign outside the establishment being the coolest moment. The production design is strong, with the derelict location feeling fittingly unkept. The cast is decent. Josh Hutcherson is a serviceable lead, Piper Rubio is cute as the little sister, and Matthew Lillard is fittingly off-beat in a key role. Really, the only time "Freddy's" really made me roll my eyes are during the extensive dream sequences. It's an ungainly plot point. The ghost kids element falls into all the clichés of that troupe that I find goofy and insufferable. Then again, Tammi's "The Wind" worked best when emphasizing atmosphere and isolation, over its limp attempts at jump scares and horror stereotypes, so this seems to be a re-occuring trend for her. 

Ultimately, I feel like "Five Nights at Freddy's" probably would've been a far more effective horror movie if it simply went back to the premise of the original game: A guy, forced into this situation by economic pressures, alone in a building with wandering robots that want to kill him. However, that's really not what the "Freddy's" is. Instead, it's made to please longtime fans that expect to see certain things and have their beloved mythology honored. (Such as jarring cameos from YouTubers.) I guess that's what big budget adaptations are in this very online world of ours. Still, I didn't hate "Five Nights at Freddy's." In fact, I think it's almost a good movie. Once it gets through a bumpy first half, this turns into a solidly amusing monster movie for kids. Considering the track record of video game movies and the niche aspects of the source material, it could've been a lot worse and altogether more inaccessible. Maybe this is the best we could've expected from a movie about murderous, singing pizza robots. [6/10]

The Mask (1961)

When I think of exploitation and horror films made by our brothers to the north, my mind immediately goes to the likes of David Cronenberg, Ivan Reitman, and Bob Clark. However, the story of Canuxploitation go back much further than that. Canada has had its own, small film industry since the early days of the art form. It wasn't until the fifties that Canadian producers became interested in producing films for other markets, made in their own country. As far as every source I've read knows, 1961's “The Mask” is the first horror made entirely in Canada by a Canadian crew. The film would be picked up for U.S. distribution by Warner Brothers, making “The Mask” also among the first Canadian films to reach a wide audience. Nowadays, the film is regarded as not just a historical artifact but an oddball cult favorite. 

Psychologist Dr. Allen Barnes has a distressing visit with his patient, Michael. The man complains of murderous dreams and mentions feeling powerless against some force. That night, Michael commits suicide. Shortly afterwards, a package arrives at Barnes' office. Inside, is a skull-shaped, tribal mask used by the Aztecs during rituals of human sacrifice. Barnes feels compelled to put the mask on and, when he does, has vivid visions. He quickly becomes addicted to the mask's powers and finds himself driven to murder. Allen's girlfriend and partners try to intervene, while a detective investigates the killings. 

From the first interaction between Dr. Barnes and his disturbed patient, it's clear that “The Mask” is operating on a heightened level of reality. The performances are stilted and stage-like. The actors tend to say everything they are feeling at any given moment. This becomes especially evident when it becomes clear what “The Mask” is about. After putting the mask on for the first time, Dr. Barnes is immediately addicted to it. His girlfriend recognizes a change in his behavior and appearance right away. It seems, mere hours after using the mask for the first time, Allen has changed from an upward member of society to a desperate junkie. That includes perpetual five o'clock shadow sprouting up on his face. The film features scenes of Allen's girlfriend asking him to choose between her and the mask and his friends and family coming together to beg him to stop. Allen even says he can quit any time he wants, he just doesn't want too. Ultimately, “The Mask” is a highly melodramatic anti-drug metaphor that's about as subtle as that implies.  

And what kind of drug does the mask most resemble? Probably some sort of powerful hallucinogenic. When Allen wears the mask, he's greeted to bizarre visions. He sees the mask – sometimes floating on its own, sometimes worn by a woman, sometimes worn by a corpse – throwing fireballs in his face. He sees zombies and ghouls lunging at him, in vaguely temple like sets that are thick with fog. One particularly vivid sequence has him floating down a Styx-like river, led by a rotten-faced ferryman. It's all pretty crazy stuff. Some of the images, like snakes emerging from a cadaver's eye sockets or a pair of gloved hands floating above a sofa, are even somewhat creepy. That everyone in these fantasy sequences wear masks of different sorts further lends an air of unreality to the proceedings. 

What makes these hallucinations all the more vivid is that they are in color, while the rest of “The Mask” is in black-and-white. That is where the film's central gimmick emerges: These trip scenes were originally presented in 3D. (Making “The Mask” Canada's first 3D movie too.) Each time Allen is compelled to wear the mask, a voice booms out to “PUT ON THE MASK,” which was an order to audience members to put on their 3-D glasses. One presumes that most of “The Mask's” budget was spent on these sequences and the 3-D technology necessary to film them. This probably explains why the rest of the movie is so dull. Oh, there's some cool, black-and-white photography. But far too much of “The Mask's” non-trip sequences are devoted to people standing around in plain rooms, having very dry conversations. 

That is the zone “The Mask” resides in. The film slingshots between delightfully nuts fantasy scenes and dull, overly dramatic grounded sequences. Whether the former is worth sitting through for the latter is a matter of opinion. I'm sure “The Mask” is a blast to watch on a big screen, in 3-D, where its fantasy sequences can really be enjoyed at their full potency. Watching at home and flat, it's a frequently slow experience broken up by fantastically surreal moments. If nothing else, it's a defiantly quirky note for the legacy of Canuxploitation to begin with. [6/10]

50 States of Fright: Almost There

Earlier this year, when studios started performing the incredibly scummy move of removing content from streaming services to cut costs, Roku yanked all the content they acquired from the long-since-dead Quibi. This meant promising horror anthology series “50 States of Fright” is now totally unavailable through any legal means. But everything survives in the world of internet piracy. If producers are going to screw over artists just to save a few bucks, then stealing stuff becomes the only way to appreciate certain programs. I enjoyed the previous two episodes of “50 States of Fright” I watched, so decided to look at the Iowa set episode, “Almost There.”

Written and directed by Scott Beck and Bryan Woods – forever categorized in my brain as the “A Quiet Place” guys – “Almost There” starts Taissa Farmiga as Hannah. A young engineer, Hannah is still haunted by memories of her Amish mother, who killed herself and Hannah's sisters by dropping them in front of a moving train. Hannah receives a phone call in the middle of the night from Blake, a mechanic working on a wind turbine. A fire in the control room means the turbine might collapse, forcing Hannah and Blake to ascend the massive structure. This means Hannah must confront her fear of heights and the ghosts from her past. 

When you add “Almost There's'” three parts together, it runs about the length of a normal TV episode. Yet, since “50 States of Fright” was made for Quibi's “quick bites” format, that means it has to establish its story fast. This actually works really well, as it means “Almost There” doesn't waste any time detailing Hannah's past trauma and getting us right into the action. From the opening minutes, we know why Hannah is haunted, why she fears heights, and that she'll have to confront both of them to do her job and save the day. That Farmiga is good at immediately gaining audience sympathy, and establishing a can-do attitude, makes “Almost There” all the more compelling right out of the gate.

“Almost There” also has a hell of a setting. Most of the episode is devoted to a Hannah and Blake climbing up the practically endless ladder in the middle of the turbine. This generates tension right away, as the audience is dangling right alongside the characters over a great height. When things inevitably go right, whether that's from a falling tool or the lights going out, you can't help but flinch. All the more-so when they are accompanied by a grisly sight of a breaking bone. Yet Beck and Woods, following the same formula laid out in their “Haunt,” do give Hannah a triumphant ending... Only after a last minute jump scare and action-packed climax, that admittedly got me. In other words, “Almost There” is pretty good! I wish it was actually available through legal means now and that its creators could be paid for their work. [7/10]

Backwoods (2019)

Here's another more recent short included in Severin's folk horror box set. A fairly close adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's “The Picture in the House,” the short follows a genealogist traveling through the New England backwoods. After a storm rolls in, he takes shelter in a seemingly unoccupied house. However, he soon discovers that the desolate location does contain one resident: An old man with a long, gray beard and a strange accent. He shows the traveler a very old book. Though the man is illiterate, he still looks at the pictures with rapt attention. These etchings concern cannibalism and arcane rituals. As the man goes on about the particular hunger the images stir in him, the traveler realizes he is in danger.

If you're going to watch “Backwoods,” it will probably help you to read the Lovecraft story first. Ryan Mackfall's short keeps things as vague as possible. The protagonist has no name and the details of why he's in this place or what he's doing are never expounded on. We don't even see the old man's face until the very end. The man's peculiar accent is so thick that it's often tricky to understand what he's saying. The film ditches the deus ex machina ending of Lovecraft's story but doesn't come up with an alternative. Instead, “Backwoods” just kind of stops. What happens to the characters next is certainly heavily implied but it's all up to audience guess work to decide where things actually conclude here. 

What “Backwoods” lacks in clear narrative, it makes up for in atmosphere. The production design and cinematography is very good, quickly establishing a dreary and overcast ambiance. The set-up, of being stuck in an isolated house with a weird old man, does create a certain tension in the viewer. Combining the man's rantings with visual flashbacks weren't necessary, as the briefly glimpsed obscene images in the book tell us all we need to know. It's clear that Mackfall and his team are quite talented and even capable of creating a spooky feeling. Still, “Backwoods” would be better served by actually having an ending. [5/10]