Halloween 2026: October 3rd

 

The Dam (2022)
Al-Sadd 

 

The recent history of Sudan has been defined by civil wars, massacres, and government coups. The human drive to tell and record stories survives no matter the social circumstances. Which is my pretentious, hopefully not-too-condescending way of saying that Sudan has, over the decades, had active film-going and making communities. The country's history of “mobile theaters” playing out of trucks or how drive-in cinemas became popular again during the lock-down is extremely interesting to me. However, I've noted before that countries with an excess of real life horror don't often have time for horror movies. However, a title of note did pop up recently. “The Dam” was directed by Ali Cherri, a Lebanese filmmaker based in Paris, but the film was made entirely within Sudan and with a Sudanese cast. I don't think “The Dam” has gotten official distribution in the States yet and finding a subtitled copy took some digging. But let's see how this goes.

In a desert region of North Sudan, workers toil in the shadows of the Merowe Dam. From the waters of the Nile, they sculpt bricks. Among them is Maher, a usually quiet man. During his off-hours, he walks into the desert and works on a personal project. He has dreams and visions, of a grumbling voice rising out from the ground. He has a wound on his lower back, that seems to be growing worst. Despite his failing health, he continues to sculpt a mysterious figure out of mud, He is compelled to continue his mission, which seems tied to the weeping scar in his skin. All the while, rising social unrest plays out in the background. Signs of looming violence and economic disaster are never far beyond any of the workers' minds. 

If the above plot synopsis didn't make it apparent, “The Dam” is a film that is not heavy on narrative. It is a vague story, told largely through imagery. (Which helps, since the subtitles I found for the film were not always the clearest.) The story often feels like a dream, moving through mundane and uncanny events in a slow and meditative fashion. There's not much of a soundtrack, scenes more often scored to natural sounds or songs from the radio. The sound design, however, is quite good. The dream sequences, of Maher wandering into the jungle and hearing strange, gurgling calls from underground feature some truly eerie sound work. While the scenes of the protagonist contemplating nature or wandering from one place to another feels like stereotypical art house stuff, “The Dam” does capture a properly hypnotizing feeling. I felt drawn into the actions of the protagonist, despite the lack of clarity about what he's doing or what is happening to him exactly. 

That's probably the main reason “The Dam” couldn't compel me more. It's a film that never outright says what it is doing. The mystery of what Maher is building is never exactly answered. Is the force pushing him to make this mud sculpture supernatural or spiritual in nature? Does it exist entirely within his own head? There is evidently some sort of connection between what he's building and the growing wound on his skin. It also feeds into the building of the dam, with rising and falling water levels throughout the village. However, if you're expecting any sort of clarification or climax to these threads, “The Dam” isn't the movie for you. There is violence and conflict eventually, though on a fairly low-key level, but the tone remains vague all throughout. “The Dam” is operating more as an allegory, meaning filtered through symbols and suggestion, but what exactly it is allegorical of escapes me some. 

It clearly has something to do with the political situation in Sudan. I definitely do not know enough about that to make any sort of interpretation. Much less attempt to decipher the particular political leanings of the filmmaker, the story they are telling, and how it relates to any atrocities one army or another may be performing at this moment. I suspect the filmmakers were reluctant to pick a clear side over another. We hear news reports of civil unrest and military action from radios in the background. The lack of money, resources, and food the workers must endure is emphasized. There's a moment where Maher glares in anger at a border guard holding a machine gun. All of this certainly paints a picture of an impoverished society, with violent change and just plain violence pushing in on them. The film casts locals from the community to essentially play versions of themselves, the characters and actors sharing names. The dam in the background is very real and the performers were largely actual brick-makers. It all suggests that “The Dam” is about capturing life among the people in this place, at this moment, and seems to do an interesting job of documenting that. 

As for “The Dam” being the first horror movie made in Sudan, that's a debatable statement. A sequence where Maher walks through a darkened area, the underground voice beckoning to him, is eerie. The reoccurring presence of a wild dog or coyote has a somewhat threatening aura to it. I guess the weird scar on his back suggests a layer of body horror? I don't think tension, suspense, fear, or repulsion were any of the intended emotions by the filmmakers though. “Magical realism” is probably a better classification for this one, maybe “Dark fantasy.” It's still probably the closest thing to a horror movie Sudan has produced yet though. And it's an interesting, if very vague motion picture. I liked it enough to be interested in whatever Ali Cherri does next and hopeful that this gets a physical release of some sort eventually. [6/10]

 

Legend of the Werewolf (1975)

As fright films became more explicit and modern in the seventies, vampires in evening wear and fog-shrouded castles started to feel a lot more antiquated. This was a problem for Hammer Productions, who still specialized in the gothic stuff. They would put more flesh and blood in their films, try out newer tales of terror, and eventually drop Dracula into modern day London. It was all for naught and the studio basically didn't exist by the end of the decade. Yet as Hammer was dying, a start-up would appear making the exact same sort of movies. Tyburn Productions was founded by Kevin Francis as a deliberate attempt to revive the spirit of Hammer horror. He recruited several alums of the studio – most prominently his dad, Freddie Francis – to help on this mission. It didn't work out. Tyburn ceased productions for theaters after three tries. While I wasn't much impressed with the previous Tyburn joint I watched, I decided to give 1975's “Legend of the Werewolf” a try.

Hammer never made a sequel to “Curse of the Werewolf” but this one, from the title on down, is so derivative of it as to operate as an unofficial follow-up. Like that film's source novel, "Legend" is set in 1800s France. Its protagonist is also cursed with lycanthropy by the circumstances of his birth. A newly born infant has his family killed by wolves. The canines adopted the baby, instead of eating it. Eight years later, he's living in the woods as a wild child. That's when a traveling side show captures him to be an attraction. In time, he grows into a strapping young lad named Etoile. The full moon prompts him to change into a werewolf, ripping one of the worker's throat out. He flees into the city and finds work in a zoo, before falling in love with a prostitute named Christine. When jealousy over her clients rises up, he changes into a beast again and begins a killing spree. A pathologist named Professor Cataflanque is soon on the case.

Part of what made “Curse of the Werewolf” one of Hammer's best films, or at least my personal favorite, was how keenly human its characters were. Leon was a sympathetic victim of fate but the werewolf remained scary. The romantic subplot was passionate and the inevitability of what his father figure must do was tragic. “Legend of the Werewolf” is trying to replicate this but the balance is off. Etoile's devotion to Christine reads less as sweet than as pathetic. He's a naive man-child in love with a prostitute who he just met and who obviously can't return his feelings. He's clingy, overly protective, and expresses his feelings through crying or murderous werewolf attacks. A lack of likable characters is a big problem for the film. The sideshow crew that take the boy in are cynical, money-obsessed, and hostile. The unnamed zoo keeper that takes him is a sleazy crook, who feels bad about abusing his animals but does it anyway. The madam of the brothel is an alcoholic who is all-business, all the time. 

The result is a prickly feeling film, with little to draw the viewer in. Peter Cushing is the one non-repelling character in the film, as the eccentric detective on the case. Watching Cushing talk his way through various leads and explore clues is always charming. However, the resolution tot he mystery is a moot point. We, the viewer, know who the werewolf is, where he's hiding, and why he's killing. That creates a tension-free narrative. Once Christine rejects Etoile, he becomes a strangely non-active protagonist. He spends the rest of the movie moping in the sewers, unable to stop his murderous hunger. His arc evolves no further past this point. This goes hand-in-hand with a strangely limited lack of scope. For most of the movie, it seems the story rotates through three or four locations: The zoo, the whore house, the coroner's office and the sewer. The script passing back and forth between this handful of places makes the film feel short of budget, ideas, and a vision to implement them.

“Legend of the Werewolf” as a pale imitation of the earlier film is evident in another factor. When the protagonist transforms, he has a wreath of white and grey hair around his face, with a furrowed brow, and a torn open silk shirt. He looks a lot like Oliver Reed in “Curse of the Werewolf,” in other words. Though he's been assigned to remake one of his classic films, you can still see Freddie Francis trying to get something out of this. The film throws in a few creative visuals. The werewolf attacks are often preceded by red-tinted point-of-view shots from the beast. The focus is often on those bloody fangs, as they pull away from the neck of their victim. Another cool shot sees a body floating backwards through the waters of the sewer. A lot of these moments are framed from eccentric angles, askew or upside down. It's the most playful thing about a film that is mostly unlikable and warmed-over.

I like the bits where Cushing's relaxed attitude towards looking at dead bodies grosses out the people around him. Roy Castle has a great bit part as the squeamish photographer Cushing ropes into his plan. Those eccentricities in the cast represents the best parts of the film. Such as Marjorie Yates as the madam, a thoroughly nasty person who nevertheless gets a funny line or two. “Legend of the Werewolf” primarily made me think of two things. Ya know how Hammer's first “The Mummy” is a classic and most of the sequels they made to it feel lifeless and cheesy in comparison? If you pretend “Legend” is a sequel to “Curse,” the exact impression it gives. Secondly, after watching Tyburn's “The Ghoul” and also finding it to be bereft of likable humans, an image of why the company failed emerges. The company tried to adapt the more down-beat attitude horror took in the seventies and combine it with classic Hammer features, forgetting to make the former fully-formed and developed and the latter anything but warmed-over leftovers. [5/10]

 

 

The Hidden Room: Dangerous Dreams
 

You probably thought I was done talking about the Lifetime Channel, didn't you? Last time the cable station came up, it was during a transitional period in its identity. By 1991, the Television for Women premise had been established. The network had already gotten attention for its string of ripped-from-the-headlines TV movies, detailing the traumatic backstories of real women, usually played by slightly washed-up actresses. Again, this probably seemed like an odd environment to launched a supernatural themed anthology network. However, in the past, I've discussed how cable channels moving into original programming have a weird habit of trying to create their own anthologies. I guess “It's “The Twilight Zone” but about the entertainment industry/rock music/sad women!” is an easily understood pitch. Thus, “The Hidden Room” debuted in the early nineties, attempting to combine Lifetime's lady-centric melodramas with a spookier edge. While the series ran for two seasons, it's obscure enough today that online uploads of episodes are rare. The only one I can currently find is “Dangerous Dreams,” the season two premiere. 

Martha and Victor have recently married, following the death of his previous wife. This is a problem for Victor's teenage daughter, Alice, who resents the presence of another woman in the role formally occupied by her late mom. Martha isn't crazy about the kid either, as her prickliness often causes fights between her and her new husband. Martha is also beginning to have unsettling nightmares, that seem to foretell bad things happening in the home. Such as a sweater that belonged to Alice's mom being found sliced up, causing another argument. Or the garage of the house catching on fire. It gets bad enough that Martha decides to spend a night with a friend of her's. This is when the dreams take their most distressing turn yet...

Despite the extreme obscurity it's been cast into, “The Hidden Room” did manage to wrangle up a decent selection of recognizable names. Helen Mirren and Catherine O'Hara did episodes, for two examples. “Dangerous Dreams” stars more cult-friendly faces. Amanda Donahue plays Martha, a young Sarah Polley makes her second appearance this season as Alice, and – bringing it back to “Forever Knight” for me again – Geraint Wyn Davies appears as Victor. Unfortunately, a decent cast cannot elevate fairly maudlin material. “Dangerous Dreams” hits all the notes you expect from a story of a child adjusting to a new stepparent. The circumstances around the arguments are fairly contrived. A very ugly slashed up shirt seems petty as can be, while the garage almost blowing up seems a lot more serious than it's treated as. It all bends towards a narrative twist that becomes more easily predicted as the half-hour goes on. 

The reputation of Lifetime original programming is certainly maintained here. The world of “The Hidden Room” seems to be one filled with aggressive, sexually menacing, cartoonish street gangs. At least Wyn Davis is not a one-note jerk and him and Donahue, mostly underutilized, share some okay romantic chemistry. It's still hard to escape the chintzy quality at work here. The score is composed of either “Incredible Hulk”-sounding sad piano melodies or ominous bongo pattering, going a long way towards making this seem like the forgettable basic cable dross it was. Season one of “The Hidden Room' had a host, an old woman in the titular room blabbering “Hitchhiker”-style philoso-dreck, but she was removed in season two. As a fan of that kind of bullshit, I would've liked to have seen that but I get the impression that “The Hidden Room” didn't offer much otherwise. [5/10]

 

Friday the 13th: The Series: Pipe Dream

Here's another “Friday the 13th” where it feels like they cobbled together several different ideas for an episode. The episode is called “Pipe Dream” because the cursed antique is an ornate, very funny looking tobacco pipe with a devil's face carved into the bowl. When smoked, it produces an orange mist that envelopes the nearest person, causing their skin to crack and bubble before making them dissolve into nothing. This is largely incidental to the actual premise, which takes place at a high-tech weapon design firm. The pipe's first victim is a newbie to the company who has blue prints for a laser-guided, powerful rifle. Ray, unaware of the pipe's murderous abilities, accidentally kills the kid after seeing the blue prints, which he then takes and sells as his own. A tense week follows, with pressure on from the boss, he tries to pitch the rifle to a new contractor. Oh yeah, Ray is also Ryan's estranged dad. Father and son's tense relationship, Ryan invited back into Ray's life because he's also marrying his long-time girlfriend, is actually what drives the dramatic intent of the episode. 

All of these ideas conflict for space within the episode. This is frustrating, as even the screenwriter clearly realized the main focus should be on Ryan and his dad's hang-ups. Michael Constantine, a character actor with a long career who I most recognize as the bewitcher in “Thinner,” plays Ray as a thorny guy. He's so focused on achieving his own idea of success that he's alienated his son. It's a surprisingly frank depiction of an asshole dad unwilling to accept his son's differing path. While you would expect this to lead towards a resolution between the two, where Ryan does finally earn his dad's respect and understanding... That's not what happens. “Pipe Dream” goes for a tragic ending instead and Ryan's trauma is left unresolved, lingering and eating at him. Which is a far more realistic and sad ending. Constantine still manages to make Ray somewhat sympathetic, hard-headed but also with an air desperation around him. He strikes me as a guy who has been struggling to survive all his life and, finally, has gotten a chance to get ahead, if only people would perfectly obey him. A common fault among dads, I've observed. 

This is also, perhaps, a compelling depiction of the nature of evil too. Ray isn't a bad guy. He doesn't mean to commit murder in the beginning, lighting the big goofy devil pipe unaware of what it'll do. At the same time, he still chooses to steal a design that wasn't made by him. I guess the Satanic appearance of the pipe is the obvious indicator of the Deal with the Devil set-up “Friday the 13th: The Series” usually utilizes. Financial windfall is given but only in return for rotting away at the soul. Ray is an average guy who compromises his own ethics to receive an easy answer. That's how good people become shitty ones, making choices that are selfish when proper pressure in their lives is put on them. While the ending is melodramatic in how downbeat it is, the latest in a line of sour endings for the show, it does follow this thread. Ryan's Dad takes the classic Faustian bargain but, unlike most of this show's weekly villain, he does realize the weight of his actions. And, like Faust, it cost him everything.

I say Ray is likable despite being a schmuck. That he also works for weapon manufacturers is another factor that pushes him into the asshole zone. Is this, perhaps, an anti-capitalistic message? Had Ray's soul already been sold when he chose to make a gun for a company that sells ways to kill people? When placed atop the emotionally-fraught premise of Ryan and his dad being at odds, this idea doesn't have the room to develop. I did like the sequence where Jack is knocked unconscious and placed behind a target at the firing range. That was decently suspenseful. I also can't undersell how silly that pipe looks. It's method of execution is also very silly, featuring some of the show's trademark dodgy special effects. Despite the flaws, I do think episode features some strong acting from John D. LeMay, who has been getting a lot of chances to cry lately. [7/10]

Halloween 2026: September 24th

Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma (2026)

The golden age of the slasher movie was short-lived. By 1984, over-saturation had been reached, the style was burnt out, and Jason Voorhees was dead. They kept making them. They'll keep making them forever, because something about the subgenre seems to imprint on every subsequent generation of horror fans. Which is to say: It's been four decades since "Halloween" and "Friday the 13th" lit the fire, and three since "Scream" popularly deconstructed it, and people are still finding things to say about these movies. Whether the irony-enriched eighties slasher regurgitation premise is totally played out or not is irrelevant. A certain breed of filmmaker will keep thinking about it. Deeply personal reflections on media seems to be Jane Schoenbrun's thing. "We Are All Going to the World's Fair" and "I Saw the TV Glow" were the director's post-mortems on getting too deep into the internet and substituting real life experiences with television, respectively. Now "Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma" has this extremely distinctive voice considering the often-considered camp slasher framework. 

"Camp Miasma" was a popular eighties slasher film. It concerned Little Death, a transgender revenant wearing an air vent on their head and wielding a spear. The killer regularly rose from a lake to massacre the people at the summer camp next door. The original was a hit and beget a long line of sequels, until the premise was thoroughly run into the ground. Now, up-and-coming filmmaker Kris Williams has been contacted to pitch a reboot. Kris knows the studio singled her out because she's queer and they are hopeful she can untangle the "Camp Miasma" series from its problematic origins. She genuinely loves the films though. In particular, she's enamored of Billy Presley, the star of the original film that has since disappeared from public life. Kris tracks Billy down at her home, which turns out to be the camp grounds where the first movie was shot. Billy has a deep connection to "Camp Miasma" as well. Her and Kris explore what the film means to them, and their own sexuality, until the border between reality and fiction are totally blurred. 

The impression I got from Jane Schoenbrun's previous films is that they put a lot of themselves into the protagonists. A young person losing connection to reality as they go deeper into an internet rabbit hole and a pop culture-obsessed, deeply closeted loner perhaps represented dark "what-ifs" for the auteur. "Camp Miasma" is Schoenbrun's most personal work yet. By which I mean, Kris Williams definitely seems to be a self-insert for the director. Hannah Einbinder is even made up to look a bit like Schoenbrun. The plot thread of Kris being asked to make a "woke" reboot of a transphobic summer camp slasher, specifically because of their queer identity, makes me think Schoenbrun got asked to reboot "Sleepaway Camp" at some point. (Both that film and its beloved-by-me sequel are mentioned by name.) That must be weird, being offered a job only because your identity lines up with the murderous villain's. If "Camp Miasma" is a reflection of the director's feelings, Schoenbrun has little respect for typical Hollywood smoozers. Kris' agent and the execs are obsessed with meaningless buzz words like "origin story" and "elevated." While the "Queer Assistant" present is depicted as utterly apathetic. If brainless industry people are a target of the story, the script doesn't spare its protagonist either. Kris' past films that "explore queerness as monstrous otherness" and her obsessive film fandom are treated as immature defense mechanisms, to cover up real insecurities she feels about herself and sex. When asked to talk about herself, Kris talks about her films instead. As if that's all there is to her, as if cinema is more real than reality.

And maybe it is, at least for these characters. The film leans on the surreal borderland between the real and the imagined early on. As soon as Kris arrives at the camp, elaborate matte paintings are being used to create a sense of cinematic dreaminess. The brand names of junk food are highlighted, as if to the emphasize the importance of shiny, disposable commercial products to these people. Dipping sauce for chicken fingers is sensually lingered on, only the first of many scenes connecting food and sex. This is because, as the title indicates, this movie is almost entirely about sex. That's why the killer is Little Death, why they penetrate with a spear, and why they strikes as their victims are on the verge of orgasmic rapture. Some of these symbolic touches are obvious, even trite. But this is ultimately a film about how the pop culture we consume gives us the words to express our desires, our fantasies. The shadow play of the movies are absorbed as erotic nightmares, through which we can then describe our own thoughts and feelings. If the amount of Jason-themed erotica I've seen is any indication, Kris is far from the only person whose sexual awakening was entwined with an old horror movie. Finding sensual satisfaction from watching naked, stereotyped teenagers get killed is acknowledged as #Problematic but, the film seems to say, our fantasies tend to be a little fucked-up. That's why they only exist in dreams and on the big screen. 

It's an interesting, highly personal re-contextualization of the slasher concept.  Schoenbrun has said that the film is as much about learning to enjoy sex after transitioning as it is riffing on Jason movies. I exist in too cis of a head-space to, perhaps, understand that element. A sequence where Kris talks about watching a horror movie and wanting to be the fleeing bimbo on the screen is pretty obviously important. The symbolism of the spiraling, interlocking lines of Little Death's vent mask were a little lost on me. I'm sure someone with a degree in Gender Studies would have something to say about the discussion around the role watching and being watched, being both within and outside the body during sex, plays in the film. 

I don't know much about that kind of thing. What I do know lots about is eighties slasher movies. The opening credits depict a litany of poster art, VHS boxes, Fright Flicks-style trading cards, merchandise, and industry articles about the long-running series. Clearly, Schoenbrun is as faithful to the marketing aesthetic of the “Friday the 13th” series as they were to the look and feel of nineties television in “I Saw the TV Glow.” The first glimpses we get at the “Camp Miasma” films, a sequence where Billy is humping with her male co-star when Little Death is reflected in her eye, is striking. When we finally get an extended look at the film-within-the-film, the results are dishearteningly not as faithful. As much as the film draws specific cues from “Sleepaway Camp” or “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter,” the characters within the film are never less than utterly cartoonish. Including a female stoner with a huge mohawk, which feels a bit anachronistic for the early eighties. The sequence grows more exaggerated as it goes on, with every kill being followed by a massive geyser of blood. It is, simply put, quite bad, playing less like the creation of a loyal fan of the genre and more like a shitty “Saturday Night Live” sketch or something. The filmmaker clearly knew what the films they were paying homage to looked and felt like, so I can only assume that these moments of obnoxiously dumb parody are intentional. 

Moments this grating are especially baffling when other parts of the movie work so well. The filmmaker remains especially talented at unexpected needle drops, especially when pairing them with unexpectedly lyrical violence. The cinematography and visuals are interesting throughout.  Hannah Einbinder gives a thoughtful performance as Kris. Gillian Anderson adopts a kind of silly country twang as Billy, which takes some getting used to. However, she has fine chemistry with Einbinder and the acting choices eventually win me over. In other words, “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is messy, too self-aware at times, and doubtlessly self-indulgent. At first, I was disappointed in it. As far as recent self-aware “Friday the 13th” homages go, I preferred “In a Violent Nature.” However, thinking about it, the film captivated me for its entire runtime and transported me. I suspect I will think about it a lot more in the future. [7/10]

Cry of the Banshee (1970)

You can get a good sense of the shifts the horror genre went through as the sixties became the seventies by looking at Vincent Price's career. The previous decade was defined by the classy chills of the Poe Cycle. Ten years later, his trademark films were about mad villains seeking elaborate, often gory revenge on those who wronged him. The transitional film between these two styles was, of course, the intense and violent "Witchfinder General." American International Pictures would attempt to replicate that one's success a few times. Most directly with 1970's "Cry of the Banshee." It was Price's 100th film and that would normally be a cause for celebration. Unfortunately, he hated making the movie, often citing it as one of the least favorite of his career. His relationship with AIP and Sam Z. Arkoff was on the skids at the time, no doubt contributing to Price's ire towards the film. All of this makes "Cry of the Banshee," despite its low standing in its star's career, something of the end of an era. It is often cited as Price's last gothic horror film, which is close enough to the truth. 

Lord Whitman is a rich magistrate, his grand manner overlooking a simple village. He is obsessed with stamping out the local witch community. Alongside his two sons and henchman Bully Boy, he often raids and terrorizes sabbaths and rituals. One such coven is led by a witch named Oona, who places a curse on the Whitman family in retaliation. An otherworldly spirit takes over the body of Roderick, the servant boy that both Whitman's daughter and wife are sleeping with. The supernatural activity increases: The eerie howl of a banshee is heard outside the castle at night. A demonic black dog begins to attack the locals. An inhuman beast prowls the grounds. Both Lady Patricia and Maureen Whitman have visions of madness. The Lord only increases his witch-hunting shenanigans in response to these events, seeking out Oona to end the curse.

Scholars of folk horror, or at least the people who made that long-ass documentary on the subject, refer to the three films that kicked off the modern iteration of the subgenre as the Unholy Trinity: 1968's "Witchfinder General," 1971's "Blood on Satan's Claws" and "The Wicker Man." "Cry of the Banshee" represents something of the bridge between those first two titles. It's a blatant imitation of Michael Reeves' film, featuring Vincent Price again in period garb and performing medieval torture on supposed witches. There's a branding, some stocks, a burning at the stake, and a spin on the breaking wheel. There's also some rape and coerced confessions. The rebellious witches frolic in nature with flowers in their hair, clearly drawing parallels to the hippy movement. The end credits go so far as to separate the cast into two opposing groups, the Witches and "The Establishment." "Blood on Satan's Claws" was going for more of a Manson family vibe than a flower power angle but both movies clearly look to the witch hunts of the past as a way to comment generational conflict of the early seventies.

Unfortunately, “Cry of the Banshees” seems uncertain about which side of this conflict we should root for. Now, obviously Lord Whitman and his raping, torturing cohorts are vile people who deserve our scorn. His wife and daughter, meanwhile, are largely innocent bystanders caught up in things. While the film certainly focuses on the cruelty of the witchhunters, it also takes place in a world where witchcraft is real and dark, magical powers do exist. This muddles the waters a bit. It's also simply another symptom of the film's inability to focus on one idea for too long at all. “Cry of the Banshee” has entirely too many characters, few of them being that distinct from one another or memorable. Forgive me if I couldn't always recall which of these guys is Whitman's evil son and which is merely his evil henchman. At one point, a random grave robber wanders into the story to drop some key information before wandering back out. The nature of the supernatural threat changes often too. The movie cycles through witchy curses, a black-coated demon dog, and an off-screen unearthly shriek before finally deciding on becoming a werewolf movie in the last third. It's all over-the-place, unfocused, and often hard to follow.

That doesn't leave the viewer much to enjoy. The interrogation and execution sequences lack the brutality and indignation of “Witchhunter General's” similar scenes. None of the film's other horrors are that intriguing. “Cry of the Banshee” was filmed at W.S. Gilbert's manor and that's a cool location. There's some okay use of shadow and colors. The glimpses we get of the werewolf make it look like a moldy-faced gorilla costume, making the choice to keep it to the shadows likely for the best. Price might not have thought much of the project but he is still doing his best to make it entertaining. There's a cool shot of him dressed like Henry VIII in that famous portrait. He doesn't play the character as only a cold-blooded villain, allowing the lord to show his fondness for his family and his steadfast belief in his own, wicked quest. Mostly, Price is at his campy best when showing wide-eyed panic and fear. Also, he gets to wield a blunderbust in a few scenes and that's fun too. 

“Cry of the Banshee” exists in two versions. Director Gordon Hessler's original cut runs 91 minutes long, features an animated opening credits sequence from Terry Gilliam, and a score by Wilfred Josephs. Before releasing the movie domestically, A.I.P cut out most of the nudity and some of the violence in order to receive a GP rating, taking the runtime down to 87 minutes. They also ditched the animated opening and had Les Baxter compose a new score. (AIP also slapped Edgar Allen Poe's name all over the posters, utilizing the same trick that turn “Witchfinder General” into “The Conqueror Worm” by briefly including some lines from one of Poe's poems – in this case, “The Bells” – at the beginning.) Neither cut of the movie features a banshee at all. Which is kind of disappointing. That would be a cool, underutilized monster to built a film around. While the director's cut is a slight improvement over the U.S. edit, “Cry of the Banshee” is subpar in any version. Vincent Price's theatrical vamping has elevated middling material before but this one mostly feels reheated from superior work. Also, the devil dog looks a little like my dog, presumably because all black German Shepherd mixes kind of look the same. [5/10] 

The Ray Bradbury Theater: A Sound of Thunder

It’s probably the most famous of Ray Bradbury’s short stories, to the point that it would eventually receive a (very bad) feature film adaptation. The premise, of dinosaurs and time travel from a futuristic society, are also quite ambitious. That’s probably why the low-budget “Ray Bradbury Theater” didn’t adapt it until the third season. For those who don’t know, “A Sound of Thunder” begins in a sci-fi future, where time travel has become common technology. Following an election where a fascist dictator nearly became President, big game hunter Eckels heads into the offices of Time Safari Inc. He pays an exorbitant cost to go back in time to the Mesozoic and hunt a T-Rex. His guide Travis gives him strict rules to follow: He must stay aboard a floating platform and can only kill animals already destined to die. Any other disturbance to the environment may have horrifying effects on the future... Rules that Eckels inevitably breaks. 

I honestly don’t know how famous Bradbury’s story is among people who don’t read science fiction. However, the central twist the story leads up to – that seemingly the most inconsequential of changes in the past can unknowingly have enormous effects on the future – has long since entered common knowledge. Bradbury’s story isn’t the origin of the term the butterfly effect but is often mistaken as such, because Ray also used a mere Lepidoptera as the symbol of how little things can set off chain reactions with massive consequences. Unfortunately, this has the downside of making any adaptation of “A Sound of Thunder” leading to a foregone conclusion. The minute the story introduces the idea of a strict set of rules that must be follow in the past, it’s only a matter of time before they are broken and birth a strange new future. 

If anything, I think the future that the death of one butterfly 65 million years ago sets off might be too similar to the one already established. The future the cast arrives in at the end isn’t that different from the one they left. It’s effectively the same except for two key changes: Language and writing is kind of fucked-up and the heavily foreshadowed crypto-fascist running for president has won, birthing an era of American Nazism. (Something that, ya know, could never happen.) Anything more elaborate than that was also probably outside the show’s budget. It’s also faithful to Bradbury’s story, likely because he wrote the script himself. Still, more extreme changes would probably be a better, more surprising illustration of simply how much that little butterfly – a species that really does date back to the Cretaceous – actually did matter to history. 

Then again, maybe Ray accidentally predicating the butterfly effect isn’t the point of the story so much. “A Sound of Thunder” is mostly a simple tale of hubris. Its big game hunter goes in search of dinosaurs because he believes he’s killed every dangerous creature alive. The sight of the tyrant lizard king, however, sends him into a panic. It turns out there is something bigger than himself and the idea terrifies him, leading to his downfall. I’m always happy to see shitty hunter types get what’s coming to them. Kiel Martin plays Eckles as properly haughty and then spineless, a good contrast to the ice cold but fearless take John Bach provides to his guide. The idea is simple: History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man. A focus on that moral over what ends up happening would’ve resulted in a more satisfying pay-off, I think. Or perhaps that’s simply my familiarity with the source material and this episode featuring a mediocre animatronic dinosaur influencing my opinion. Still a better take on the story than the 2005 movie. [6/10]

Friday the 13th: The Series: Vanity's Mirror

Mirrors are objects loaded with symbolism, certainly when it comes to the topic of vanity, which makes it unsurprising that “Friday the 13th: The Series” would devote an episode to one. This one begins with a ragamuffin flower vendor attempting to convince the guy in a nice suit that buys roses from her every day to love her. When that doesn’t work, she reflects light from a compact in his eyes, magically inducing a powerful infatuation. This has deadly consequences. In the aftermath, homely high school student Helen Mackie picks up the compact. She quickly deduces its magical mechanics. She uses it to make the jocko friends of her sister’s handsome boyfriend – who, of course, Helen has a crush on – fall in love with her. And this show being what it is, all of those sudden love spells result in death too. When Micki showing up at the girl’s door is unsuccessful, Ryan goes undercover as a high school student to find out more. 

Auditioning for the part of an “ugly” girl, only to win the role, must be demoralizing for an actor. That unfortunately sets up what is the rather fucked moral of “Vanity’s Mirror.” The script never considers that unfair social pressures placed on young women to make themselves stand up to an impossible beauty standard might deserve any blame for this situation. The woman in the first scene is simply a villain. Helen is not much more sympathetic. A few hours after figuring out how the mirror works, she is already callously engineering the gruesome death of somebody. She becomes fully ruthless right after that, never once being shocked or unsettled by the violence she is reaping. The unusually down-beat end of the episode is similarly pitiless to the girl. This one ends without any sense of “justice” being served and seems to come to the conclusion of “Well, some people are just ugly, inside and out, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” 

I, for one, do not agree with this. I believe it’s cartoonishly unfair to a sixteen year old girl to turn her into a remorseless serial killer and then off her in such a callous way, for the crime of being “ugly.” Whatever happened to the idea of beauty being subjective? Let’s not take the side of the high school bullies here. I get that “Friday the 13th: The Series” only has forty-five minutes to tell its story and is, on the best of days, still a fairly dumb or silly show. However, this one left me feeling depressed in a decidedly un-satisfying fashion. Using demonically infused mundane objects to make someone fall in love with you is bad, as “Obsession” already hammered into our heads this season. But, I dunno, maybe making a young girl with an ungainly nose and some acme into a serial killer simply because she has a crush on her sister’s boyfriend is kind of shitty. 

Outside of all of that, I suppose this episode has one or two moments. The instantly recognizable Zack Ward – not exactly a traditionally handsome fella himself and the episode doesn’t shit on his looks – appears as the first of Helen’s victims. His demise occurs off-screen but, by the standards of broadcast television in the eighties, is still quite gruesome. The second death is bloody too. Nebulous as its connection to Jason’s rampages was, this show was definitely doing its best to bring some Hollywood style gore to the small screen. However, the plot point of Ryan going undercover as a teenager is laughable. Moreover, he spends a large fraction of this episode unconscious on a floor. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is an episode of “Friday the 13th” where the Curious Goods crew have almost no effect on the plot at all. I guess Jack does save the sister from an unfortunate death trap but, otherwise, all of these events would have played out in the exact same manner without their involvement. Odd episode. [5/10]

Halloween 2025: September 28th

 

The Strangers: Chapter 2 (2025)
 

When it was announced that Lionsgate was rebooting Bryan Bertino's generally well-liked 2008 home invasion thriller, “The Strangers,” that was standard entertainment news. These days, some old movie or property gets a relaunch announced about every week. When it was revealed that Lionsgate was planning a whole trilogy based off this mildly popular movie from sixteen years ago, it seemed like putting the horse before the cart but that's also hardly unprecedented in Hollywood. Except all three films were already written and would be shot back-to-back. A risky proposition, as the first might flop, sticking the studio with two sequels there's no demand for. Especially since these movies were being directed by Renny Harlin, whose days as a blockbuster hit-maker have long, long since passed. Well, “The Strangers: Chapter 1” made 48 million against an 8 million dollar budget, giving Lionsgate the confidence to release “Chapter 2” in theaters this September. Despite most people having hated the previous one. I thought “Chapter 1” wasn't totally without its merits and so I foolishly give this second part of the trilogy a look. 

And so we return to the small town of Venus, Oregon, where Maya and her husband had their AirBNB invaded by a trio of masked murders. Having survived the night of torment, the battered and injured Maya awakens in the nearest hospital. She is questioned by the local sheriff, who strikes her as suspicious. That night, she hears screams from the hallway outside her hospital room. The Strangers have followed her and are determined to finish the job they started. Despite having stitches in her gut from a prior stab wound, Maya is chased all around the hospital and the surrounding area. She takes shelter in the woods, the ceaseless pursuit by the three maniacs on-going. Maya becomes increasingly convinced that the entire town is in on these murders, which seem to have gone back years ago. 

Every slasher movie fan will recognize that portion of the film, when most of the warm bodies have been cleaved through. When it is only the killer and the final girl left, a long fight for survival erupting between the seemingly unstoppable murderer and the one young woman that has escaped their wrath thus far. Ya know, the part of “Halloween” when Laurie Strode is in the house by herself with Michael Myers. “The Strangers: Chapter 2” essentially attempts to build an entire movie around this portion of the slasher formula. The Strangers are stalking and chasing Maya and they won't stop until they've caught her. It's not the worst idea for a movie. The first act of “Chapter 2” recalls “Halloween II” with its hospital setting. Sequences in which the girl hides inside a morgue storage locker or behind big metal jugs in the basement aren't half-bad. While watching these moments, I found myself wondering if perhaps this might actually work. 

That otherwise quite good scene of Maya in the cold storage locker, the lead Stranger lurking inches away from her face, is cut short when an orderly sticks his head in and subsequently gets axed. This, unfortunately, sets up a pattern that nearly the entire movie then follows. Maya will be chased by the killers to a new location: A random horse ranch, a derelict car sitting in the middle of the forest, the AirBNB from the previous movie, an apartment where her nurse and three roommates are living. A person or a few will appear to help her. They will reveal a tiny tidbit of information about the bigger picture here before the Strangers appear again, murdering them and starting the cycle again. By the third time “Chapter 2” is repeating this cycle, when a detective is introduced only to be unceremoniously offed in the very next scene, this blatant repetition has become unintentionally funny. By the fourth time it happens, it has become tedious. The sequel feels the need to throw multiple vehicular chases between these identical set-ups and pay-offs.  

“Chapter 2” essentially repeating the same scenes over and over again until it reaches a feature length run time is not the only sign that this entire trilogy enterprise might have been a misguided affair. Alan R. Cohen and Alan Freedland's script often feels like an obnoxiously drawn-out tease for something more interesting. A random old woman or that aforementioned detective promise to reveal the truth before being silenced. The sequel constantly toys with the possibility that the quartet of shifty weirdos that help Maya out are connected to the murderers. These are narrative red herrings, cut short so the film can have the heroine run and hide and sometimes fight-off the unflappable villains again. It reminds me of all those shitty streaming series. Ya know, the ones that are six or eight hours long but truthfully only had enough real story for two hours, necessitating extensive padding and repeated hints that the plot might genuinely move forward at some point. The script's desperate attempts to stretch this premise out eventually lurches towards unintentional comedy. Would you believe me if I said this sequel to the reboot/remake of “The Strangers” features in the middle of the runtime, for no particular reason, an extended sequence where someone is attacked by a feral hog? It's true and it's stupid and it's also, perhaps not coincidentally, the only time this movie truly reaches any degree of schlocky amusement. 

Since watching “The Strangers: Chapter 2,” I can't decide if this out-of-the-blue homage to “Hogzilla” is made more or less silly by the subsequent reveal that it's also part of the masked killers' master plan. Part of what made Bertino's “The Strangers” effective was that we knew nothing about the titular menace. They struck without explanation, their motives unknowable and their justification totally random. That spooky bit of ambiguity clearly won't do in our era of fan wiki lore dumps and explainer videos. Since some jack-ass exec decided this story had to be three movies, “Chapter 2” can't actually tell us much about the Secret Origins of the Strangers. The brief glimpses we get are not compelling. Some sort of devil-kid little sociopath pact or whatever, with shades of Mormonism, that isn't as creepy as the briefest suggestion of a Manson-like cult from the original. Truly, did even the biggest fan of “The Strangers” actually care about how Tamara is? Or what the greater significance behind Pin-Up Girl's choice in mask? Explaining what these three want and where they come is obviously antithetical to what makes them scary but I guess we shouldn't expect subtle from a lame-brain attempt at brand extension like this. Harlin's trilogy has clearly failed in intriguing us about the story behind the Strangers. When a mask comes off in the final scene, it plays as if this is a shocking revelation. Instead, I found myself asking “who the hell is that?” before vaguely connecting it with a background player in an earlier scene. 

My earlier comparison of these newer “Strangers” to a half-assed streaming show is apt. The movie ends with an on-screen “To Be Continued” ellipses and a preview of the next film, truly following in the footsteps of bad television. What we can expect next time, promises to finally answer how the town's history and Richard Brake as the creepy sheriff tie into all of this, are not exactly promising. “The Strangers: Chapter 2” isn't the most wretched motion picture I've seen this fall. Madelaine Petsch has about twelve lines of dialogue in the entire movie. Instead, she gives a mostly physical performance, her final girl on the run nearly the whole time and taking an improbable amount of punishment. That's kind of interesting. (Though a gratuitous shot of Petsch in her underwear suggest she probably wasn't cast for her acting.) The stalking through the hospital and horse stables aren't bad, before we understand that the sequel has no further tricks up its sleeve. I didn't despise it but it's surely not good. Also not good has been the box office so far, suggesting “The Strangers: Chapter 3” might wind up going straight-to-Tubi. But I guess I'm on the hook for that piece of shit, since I've watched the other two already. They should include a few more feral hog attacks in that one. [5/10]

 

Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf (1975)
Nazareno Cruz y el lobo, las palomas y los gritos

Back in the days before birth control, when infant morality was high and large families were often necessary to operate farms, having seven or more kids was not so uncommon. Nor was the possibility of that seventh son begetting seven sons himself. Where exactly the idea that such an individual was blessed or cursed in some way began, we can't say. The belief likely has its roots in Mesopotamia, where seven was a sacred number, which was reflected in Christian concepts like the seven deadly sins. Whatever the origins, the superstition has spread throughout many different cultures and taken many forms. In England and Ireland, the seventh son of a seventh son was said to be healers or to have psychic visions. Italian folklore speaks of a seventh son able to ward off snakes. Not every example was so lucky. Seventh sons were also often said to be cursed, to become vampires or werewolves. The latter idea would inspire Argentinian director Leonardo Favio to create “Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf.” The film would become very successful in its home country, the most popular locally made film in Argentinian history by some measurements.

The heavily pregnant Fidelia prepares for the birth of her seventh child. Her husband and her six previous sons set out to tend to the herd in a thunderstorm. The subsequent flood results in each of them drowning. The local lechiguana warns her that, should the child be a son, he will be cursed to become a werewolf. Fidelia does have a son, whom she names Nazareno Cruz. Despite the hardships of being raised by a single mother and told his whole life that he's cursed, Nazareno grows up to be a boisterous, kind man that is loved by all who meet him. While at a bonfire party one night, he meets the beautiful maiden Griselda. The two immediately fall in love. Afterwards, Nazareno is approached by a mysterious stranger. The man informs him that the curse Cruz has heard about his whole life is real. Now that he's fallen in love, he will become a wolf at the next full moon. The stranger says the curse can be avoided, and he'll receive treasures untold, if Nazareno gives up his love for Griselda. Recognizing the traveler as the devil himself, he refuses the offer. And as the moon rises in the night sky the next night, Nazareno Cruz becomes a bloodthirsty beast.

"Nazareno Cruz y el lobo" is introduced in voice-over by one of the supporting characters, as a story that happened to a friend of his. This presents the film's story as exactly what it is meant to be, a legend told via word-of-mouth and spread down through the generations as oral tradition. The film is obviously informed by concepts from local folklore. The premise of the cursed seventh son of a seventh son, an old witch who speaks of both God and the devil, Satan himself appearing with an impossible trade: All of these are archetypal ideas, older than any one tale itself. Fittingly, the characters and narrative turns in "Nazareno Cruz" are mythic in their broadness. Nazareno is a joyful man, always singing and dancing, a jolly young man accepted anywhere. The old witch, played by a toothless and sunken-eyed Nora Cullen, is the perfect mental image of an old but wise crone. Griselda is an utterly pure maiden, angelic in her beauty and grace. When the two make love, it is depicted as a frolic among the fields and by a waterfall, the young lovers free of sin in their devotion to each other. 

In accordance with this, "Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf" is told as a fairy tale with an operatic emotional range. There are a lot of shouted lines of dialogue or sustained moments of laughing or yelling. When Nazareno first meets Griselda, it results in several minutes of the camera gazing at her while the sweeping romantic theme from Juan José García Caffi and Jorge Candia plays. That cascading choir piece of music plays repeatedly, alongside the score's other oversized leitmotifs. The characters will often repeat their dialogue, as if they are also reoccurring melodies within a song that establishes their simple roles in the story. When Nazareno decides he could never give up his lady love, it results in a long sequence of the two messily kissing in the waves. This kind of bigger-than-life execution can be a bit hard to enjoy but, once you get on its wave-length, it's interesting. 

Like many operas, “Nazareno Cruz and the Wolf” is also a tragedy. From before he was born, the title character was told he was cursed. Despite doing everything in his life to prove these accusations wrong, being the best version of himself he can be, Nazareno is still destined to become a wolf. In comparison to the overwrought emotion of every other scene of the film, the sequence devoted to the wolf stalking a herder is unusually quiet and unsettling. The suggestion seems to be twofold. First off, that any man – no matter how well-liked or virtuous he might be – is still capable of evil acts. After this murder occurs, Griselda reassures her father that her lover is a good man. However, everyone else has already decided from his first breath that he was destined to be this monster. “Nazareno Cruz” could be a rumination on how we are all victims of fate. It could also be read as a story about how what we call “fate” is more the machinations of the society we live in. 

To call “Nazareno Cruz y el lobo” a riff on classical folk lores is an accurate statement. The script – written by Favio and Jorge Zuhair Jury, based on a radio program by Juan Carlos Chiappe – actually seems to hearken back to pre-Christian indigenous mythology in Argentina. This is noticeable in how the old witch is called the Lechiguana, a word taken from the Mapudungun language. Unless most depictions of those who converse with spirits or know of the occult, this witch is not an evil figure. She is a neutral one. She refers to God and the devil in a similar way, saying either can bring bad luck depending on the weather. This holds through with the film's depiction of the devil. He tempts Cruz with gold and asks him to give up his earthly love. At the same time, we later see this same figure – who goes so far as to admit he's the devil – as a benevolent leader of an underground system of other magical beings. This devil is an ultimately sympathetic figure, attempting to take the protagonist out of a world that will never accept him fully. 

If you are like me and are fascinated by all the permutations folklore has taken around the world, “Nazareno Cruz” will probably be to your liking too. The operatic approach to the story is likely to rub some people the wrong way. You might get annoyed hearing the same lines of dialogue repeated or find the music overbearing. However, I was quickly caught up in this one. Juan Jose Stagnaro's cinematography is strong, often providing a smooth sense of movement to many scenes. The performances are all strong. That this story resonated so much with Argentinians in 1975 surely says something about the culture that I, as am outsider, is unable to see. Despite its standing in its home country, the film has been obscure in America. At least it can now be watched with a decent transfer and strong subtitles, thanks once again to the folk horror archivists at Severin. It's well worth seeking out. [7/10]
 

The Twilight Zone (1985): Examination Day

When it first started airing, the 1985 revival of “The Twilight Zone” would feature multiple stories in each episode. Rather than evenly split each hour between two twenty minute narratives, the length of the segments would vary. Some episodes would squeeze in as many as three stories.  This presentation wold eventually be dropped and it's not too hard to see why. When squeezing in multiple scenarios of uneven length, it meant one segment was bound to overshadow the others. This is the case with the sixth episode. Most of the hour is taken up by “A Message from Charity,” a cute but distinctly not macabre tale of telepathic romance between a teenage boy in the eighties and a puritan girl in the 1700s. But nobody remembers that one. Instead, the ten minute short that precedes it, “Examination Day,” made a much stronger impression on audiences. Not long ago at all, I saw a TikTok going on about how shocking its twist ending remains. 

Like “The Obsolete Man” and a few classic “Zone” episodes before it, “Examination Day” takes place in some weird sci-fi future. In this setting, everyone in the country is forced to undertake an intelligence exam when they turn twelve years old. Little Dickie Jordan, a bright and enthusiastic boy, is hoping to do well on the test. His parents, Richard and Ruth, are much more hesitant. Something as them worried. The day after his birthday, Dickie is taken to a government facility and given a truth serum, to make sure he doesn't tell any lies on the test. To say what happens next would take most of the punch out of this one but it's hard to discuss the episode much otherwise. So, look away now if you don't want a forty year old TV show spoiled for you: Dickie's parents are informed that their son scored too high on the intelligence test and, in accordance with government laws to keep the public servile and content, the boy has been executed. 

The sci-fi setting of “Examination Day” seems hopelessly dated to modern eyes. The gift Dickie receives for his birthday, that has him so excited, is a small television that he can talk to his friends on. In addition to that rather analog form of communication, the silver jumpsuits everyone wears and shiny, glowing buildings surely seemed like an example of retro-futurism even in 1985. The same could be said of the golly-gee-aw-shucks attitude of the little boy and that his name is Dickie. Despite these flaws, “Examination Day” does have a timeless message. Namely, that those in power will always frown upon anyone who asks questions. We haven't had a government that regulates IQ yet – give the current administration another year – but it hardly seems like that far of a leap. The death of a kid, especially one as adorably precocious as this one, is still a shocking incident. The way this announcement is coldly delivered to the parents makes the ruthless efficiency of this slaughtering system all the more brutal. “Examination Day” may not be much more than its twist but it is an effective twist. [7/10]

The Addams Family: The Addams Policy

Here's an episode of “The Addams Family” that builds its plot around some of the show's memorably bizarre props. “The Addams Policy” starts with the family playing with their latest acquisition: A hand-held flamethrower. While attempting to light Gomez' cigar, Uncle Fester accidentally sets the stuffed polar bear in the living room ablaze. Distraught, Morticia immediately seeks out their insurance agent. That turns out to be Mr. Digby, last seen living next door and now in the employ of old Mr. Henson. Digby is natural confused and frightened by the Addams' antics. Henson is so enraged by his employee agreeing to insure the eccentric Addams that he immediately fires him. Gomez and Morticia's solution is to simply open up their own insurance office, with Digby's name on the door. Naturally, the family has an equally quirky reaction to such a mercenary business.

As I've drawn closer to the conclusion of season two, how formulaic “The Addams Family” could be has become more apparent. I'm not talking about the reliance on running gags or guest stars getting freaked out. Those have always been a part of the show. Instead, a lot of season two episodes seem to be revolving around the set-up of sticking the family into an otherwise routine job or premise. We had “What if the Addams ran a school?” not that long ago and “What if Morticia was a decorator?” before that. This episode is “What if the Addams ran an insurance company?” It leads to the expected bits, of the family insuring only the most uninsurable rejects or Fester dressing up and playing doctor with a disguised Mr. Henson. I'm not saying I didn't chuckle from time to time – Cousin Itt has an amusing cameo in this one – but the repetitive quality of these ideas are beginning to show. 

I do admire the show bringing back various supporting players, despite how interchangeable many of them can be. I mean, how many different roles and jobs has Mr. Henson had at this point? I guess he's back in the insurance game now. Similarly, Digby seems weirdly unfamiliar with the Addams family, despite having lived next door to them fairly recently. Still, the ghoulish family tormenting these stuffed shirts are still easily the best part of “The Addams Policy.” Morticia relentlessly grilling Digby over what other animal a pile of ash might have been besides a bear is a nicely extended joke. Fester repeatedly shocking the man with his electrical powers is surprisingly mean-spirited too. If there's anyone we should be breaking down with stern-eyed interrogations and electrical torture, it's probably insurance salesman. The main cast and their reliably sharp delivery of various cheesy one-liners remain entertaining, despite the show starting to feel a little uninspired in its ideas. [6/10]