Halloween 2025: September 11th

 

Final Destination: Bloodlines (2025)
 

I don't know why the "Final Destination" movies took a fourteen year long break. As far as slasher flicks go, these are on the pricier side. The last two both had 40 million dollar price tags but still easily turned healthy profits. Maybe New Line Cinema was too busy prioritizing "The Conjuring" and "IT" series. The ghost movies and Stephen King adaptations are probably classier examples of churned-out horror I.P. product than the gore-fests... But I know which type I prefer. Shortly announced after "Final Destination 5" did well, the sequel would finally emerge from development hell in 2022. That's when Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein won producers over with a pitch reel that ended with them "dying" in a freak accident, an extremely clever move. The duo had previously directed 2018's "Freaks," but I had only seen Lipovsky's solo attempt to reboot "Leprechaun." That sucked so I kept my expectations humble for the generically subtitled "Final Destination: Bloodlines." However, it turns out these two knew what they were doing. The latest taste of Death's design was a hit with fans and audiences this past summer. 

Every night, Stefani Reyes dreams about a blonde woman, visiting a fancy restaurant within a Space Needle-like observation deck with her boyfriend. The tower collapses and everyone dies a horrible death, the dreams traumatizing Stefani to the point that she's crashing out at college. The woman in her dreams is her grandmother Iris, which her absentee mother and friendly uncle are estranged from. Stef hunts down Grandma Iris at the fortified compound she lives in. Upon hearing about her dream, the old woman informs her granddaughter that it's a premonition she had in 1963. She saved hundreds of lives that night... But that wasn't Death's design. Over the years, everyone who was supposed to die in that building and all their offspring have perished in bizarre accidents, in the order they were originally meant to go. It's taken the Reaper sixty years to work his way down to Iris, who has learned to spot the signs that predict when Death will strike. She compiled a book of all her information and gives it to Stefani... Before being impaled by a falling weather vane. Stefani is soon convinced that Death is coming for her family, learning to see the omens that foretell each "accident." She embarks on a quest with her mom and cousins to find some way out of the fate's web before it strikes with especially vicious gusto. 

In the lead-up to "Bloodlines'" release, it was said that the new film would not follow the formula of the previous five entries. This is somewhat true. By having the plot-instigating disaster occur decades ago, with the proper protagonist experiencing the vision as a dream, it does change the general structure while still following the same old set-up we've seen before. The sequel notably does not explore any of the questions I've had about the premise, such as where the psychic visions come from. Nor does it address the various spiritual or philosophical implications of the abstract concept of Death itself operating like a lunatic serial killer. Nevertheless, "Bloodlines" does earn a lot of points for getting creative with the set-up. The implications of the idea that Death must obsessively, compulsively murder people in the order they were meant to die are explored, alongside the various ways to escape – or at least hold off – the inevitable. Some extra thought was definitely put into the rules these movies have always operated on.

I pointed out before that trying to defeat “Death's design” in the previous “Final Destination” movies renders a person a gibbering lunatic, looking for signs and symbols in every single thing that happens around them and paranoid at every point. “Bloodlines” comes to the same conclusion. Grandma Iris was so terrified that Death would come for her kids at any minute, that she left them thoroughly traumatized and resentful. Steffi's mother eventually realize that her own childhood left her incapable of being a decent mom to her kids. Now, carrying around a whole book full of crazy and sticking elaborate pin boards to the wall, Steff quickly becomes the spitting image of madness herself. Of course, in these movies, the “crazy” person is actually correct. Something is out to get them and the signs to avoid it are all over. It takes a bit of time but a surprising amount of “Bloodlines” revolves around the entire family coming together, believing these statements that sound crazy for the benefit of someone they care about. 

Is this some sort of metaphor for loving and supporting somebody through a mental illness, even if you don't entirely understand what they're going through? Possibly but, nevertheless, “Final Destination: Bloodlines” remains a surprisingly poignant reflection on the power of familial love throughout. Early on, Uncle Howard assures his kids and relatives that family is the most important thing in the world to him. The way his kids, nephews and nieces watch out for each other as death closes in on them proves that they believe this too. That “Bloodlines” juggles this commitment with the sometimes messy realities of being part of a family – present in Stefani's mother admitting her children are better off without her – proves that the screenwriters took this idea seriously too. That's not the only territory the movie is unusually sincere about. Tony Todd's small role was obviously recorded when the great genre icon was deep in treatment. Having someone so clearly near the end of their life look right into the camera and tell us to appreciate the time we have left makes the dialogue a lot more meaningful. 

I didn't expect the sixth entry in what is essentially a slasher franchise to make me a little misty-eyed. This is not to say that “Final Destination: Bloodlines” is an attempt to make the series all elevated. (Aside from the geographical position of the opening disaster.) “Bloodlines” might be the entry in the series most willing to walk the line between comedy and grisly mayhem. The gore is gnarlier than ever. A crushing in a trash compactor splits a head along an especially brutal line. A sequence involving an MRI machine surely ranks among the franchise's most painfully executed deaths. At the same time, these moments of sickening gore occur right alongside blatantly comedic beats. The driver of that trash truck is listening to an especially ironic musical choice. The execution immediately following that brutal magnetic scene plays exactly like the punchline to a cartoonish bit of physical comedy. It's honestly refreshing to see the filmmakers behind “Final Destination” admit that these are basically splat-stick movies at this point, even if it borders feeling a little too mean-spirited at times. 

Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein's directorial approach is clearly on the more devious side. They employ Dutch angles a few times, often ironic soundtrack choices, and frenetic editing. Among the collection of gnarly stunts – including the record holder for oldest person set on-fire on film, it seems – is also a little too much CGI. Despite some minor reservations, “Bloodlines” is a good, gory time at the movies. The backyard-barbecue-gong-wrong set piece prepares every element of its fabulously bloody show like a neatly assembled domino game. Watching the pieces fall into place has never been more satisfying. A colorful and kind-hearted cast and a slightly more thoughtful script brings a little more emotional resonance to the material than was needed but was certainly appreciated. And God bless Tony Todd, an consummate professional right up tot he end. I fully expect this series to continue and for Death to stalk theater rows once more soon enough. It'll certainly be lacking something without that familiar voice delivering those ominous warnings though... [7/10]

 

 

Homicidal (1961)

One cannot overstate the effect “Psycho” had on macabre cinema. Laying the foundation for what would become the slasher movie, making the insane killer with a disturbed mind a regular part of the monster pantheon, essentially kicking off the modern age of the genre: Hitchcock's masterpiece can be said to have provided all of this. In the more immediate sense, the film spawned a slew of imitators. Hammer Studios made several moody, black-and-white thrillers with one-word names like “Paranoic,” “Nightmare,” “Maniac,” “Hysteria.” Suspiciously similar titles like “Dementia 13” or “Psyche '59” would come along shortly afterwards. Films exploring abnormal psychology like “Mirage,” “Repulsion,” “Aroused” probably owe Hitch more than a little credit too. None of these would-be “Psychos” were as blatant as “Homicidal.” William Castle – kind of the crass American Hitchcock, in his own way or at least in his own mind – and Columbia rushed the movie into theaters a year after Norman Bates' debut in hopes that the public's appetite for such grisly shenanigans were only beginning. 

A strange blonde woman calling herself Miriam Webster checks into a hotel in Ventura, California. She immediately starts flirting with the bell boy and, after flashing two thousand dollars in cash at him, convinces the guy to marry her. That very night, the two head to the justice of the peace's house, paying extra to get married right away... At which point “Miriam” stabs the justice to death. Turns out her true identity is Emily. She is the live-in nurse of a disabled woman named Helga. She is the girlfriend of Warren, Helga's step-son who recently buried his misogynistic, abusive father. The real Miriam is Warren's sister. Miriam – befriending a local pharmacist and detective – soon learns that Emily is wanted in connection with a homicide. Emily's increasingly unstable behavior suggest she's capable of the killing too. More dark family secrets will be revealed as Miriam attempts to uncover Emily's secrets and protect her brother before it's too late. 

William Castle's movies will always be remembered for their outrageous gimmicks. “Homicidal” has one of his silliest ones: The Fright Break, an on-screen countdown to the film's supposedly scariest moment that would allow anyone too timid to continue a way out. At the same time, Castle's films were often better than these advertising stunts let on. “Homicidal” has some striking black-and-white cinematography from Burnett Guffrey. This is especially evident in the point-of-view shots during and directly following the Fright Break, leading up to a stylish unveiling of a grisly surprise. That's another thing “Homicidal” has going for it: It's gorier than “Psycho.” The stabbing of the justice of the peace is surprisingly drawn out and bloody. The discovery of the climatic murder, meanwhile, has the same level of campy glee to it that often characterized Castle's movies. It's a shocking, horrific surprise for the characters but more like a funny prank for the audience, not unlike a Tingler in the theater seats or an Emergo swinging out of the screen. 

These moments stand-out in the film probably because the rest of it is not all that memorable. “Homicidal” is fairly bare bones on a plotting level. The audience knows something is up with Emily from the first scene. Watching the characters come to that same conclusion is neither that suspenseful nor that compelling. Patricia Breslin is capable enough as Miriam but the rest of the film's heroic cast members – a series of bland white guys, one after the other – could not be more forgettable. The backstory of Warren and his sister are revealed entirely through dialogue, long conversations that are never as compelling as they need to be. All the talks of mysterious trips to Denmark or who will inherit Daddy's millions strictly cause the eyes to glaze over.

“Homicidal,” from the title on-down, is blatantly imitative of Hitchcock's film. Both start with a blonde woman arriving at a hotel with an awful lot of money. Both feature an immobile old woman in a chair – so there's some “Baby Jane” in here too – and set a key scene around a staircase. Most obviously, “Homicidal” features a gender-bending twist ending. Spoiler alert for a sixty-two year old movie: Warren and Emily are the same person. Warren and Miriam's dad was such a he-man woman hater that he couldn't stand the thought of having two daughters. Thus, the biological sex of his second child was withheld from him and the infant lived their life as a man. The doctor that explains all this doesn't take as long as Simon Oakland did in “Psycho,” nor is there as much focus on the psychology that led to this transition. While a fairly lazy reversal of “Psycho's” twist, there is an interesting layer here. That Warren was beaten and ostracized by a sexist father and made to walk a traditionally masculine path, before striking out in a feminine guise that rejects the role forced upon him. From a sideways view, it almost seems like the film is arguing against the role of gender at all. Not intentionally, as the film is still as cis-het centered as can be, but there is, perhaps, a subtext of queer vengeance on the repressive, straight society they are forced to live in.  

Not that the twist would be surprising to anyone paying attention. The much referenced but never fully explained trip to Denmark is clearly meant to imply some sex change shenanigans. Most obviously, Warren looks awfully feminine from the moment he walks on-screen. It's hard to miss that both Warren and Emily have Jean Arless' distinctive facial features, that a deeper masculine voice has clearly been dubbed in every time he moves his lips. “Homicidal” is definitely a movie where the parts do not add up to an especially strong whole. A head rolling down the stairs, a brutal stabbing, and the unintended LGBT+ rustlings are all much more interesting than the movie around them. Unsurprisingly, “homicidal” has largely been overshadowed by its own gimmick. The shame-inducing techniques Castle added to the Fright Break – highlighting the cowardice of anyone who ducked out or simply asked for a refund – are more amusing than anything in the film. Yellow foot steps in the theater, clucking chicken noises in the lobby, being forced to sign an official statement declaring yourself a scaredy-cat: All simply hilarious. Truly, when they say “You couldn't make that movie today,” they are talking about a film that publicly humiliated anyone who dared to walk out on it. [6/10]

 

Dead of Night: A Woman Sobbing

Last September, I watched the first episode of "Dead of Night," a ghost story anthology that aired on BBC2 for a single, six episode season in 1972. It remains one of the most eerie hours of television I've yet seen. "A Woman Sobbing" would be the last installment of the program to air and is now one of three episodes still known to survive. It concerns Jane, wife to Frank and mother to two sons. The family has recently moved to a house in the countryside. Every night, before bed, Jane hears a woman sobbing from the attic. The husband doesn't hear anything and is concerned his wife is having a mental breakdown. Jane investigates all possibilities. There is no gas leak, no sign that her husband is manipulating her. Taking medication, seeing a psychiatrist, and consulting a priest do not cause the strange noises to cease. Frank hires a live-in nanny, an attractive Dutch girl in her twenties, for fear that motherhood is exhausting Jane. This only exposes the sexual frustration between the couple. And still the spectral cries of an unseen woman continue, soon joined by the attic window opening on its own and vision of someone falling to their death. The wife soon takes matters into her own hands. 

Clearly, something in the British condition caused their TV writers to excel at stark, ambiguous, and unsettling ghost stories. "A Woman Sobbing" is, like "The Stepford Wives" and "Rosemary's Baby" before it, a horror story about the quiet desperation of a housewife. Jane's sons are rowdy and demanding. Her husband seems much more concerned with his advertising job, dismissive of her concerns. They discuss "Gaslight," the husband trying to convince his wife that it wasn't a play but a film. Their sex life is so regimented that Frank can recall the exact day and hour of the last time they made love. He doesn't stray but does look at his secretary's ass and listens with envy to a coworker describing a pretty young thing on the train. Inga the nanny is an unwanted intrusion for Jane, a visitor from a sexually liberated land that does nothing but make her feel inadequate. All the men Jane seeks solace from do nothing. The gas line worker tells an uncomfortable joke about his own sexual potency, the priest claims that exorcism simply aren't done anymore, and the shrink scribbles obvious observations in his notepad. 

In other words, the supernatural terror at the heart of "A Woman Sobbing" is clearly a subtextual manifestation of the unhappiness Jane feels, born of the circumstances of a world that dismisses or disposes of women. All throughout the hour, the threat of being shipped off to a mental hospital hangs over Jane's head. Nobody once considers that what she is hearing might be real. Not even Inga, the only other woman in the household. So maybe Jane is crazy. Maybe the voice beckoning to her is the call of the void, the sickness in her own mind taunting her into embracing non-existence. The final scene, however, is a brief epilogue that suggests she is the victim of a curse. That a malevolent force targets the mothers of the house. "A Woman Sobbing" keeps the details about its haunting vague. We never learn the history of the house. A rope or cord Jane finds in the walls of the attic is the only clue uncovered about what could've birthed this supernatural presence. That all we know about this ghostly force is that it's a woman, it's crying, and wants to trap Jane in its cycle of madness and death is more than enough to make it a frightening manifestation of the loneliness, isolation, and frustration the protagonist feels. This means that the social concerns “A Woman Sobbing” handles are baked into a traditional horror story, about how evil sometimes randomly targets people.

In this regard, “Dead of Night” is chillingly effective. There is something about the way British genre television of this era was shot and edited that is especially suitable for horror. There's little music here, which means you really hear the ghostly sounds when they arise. The camera angles favor close-ups on the actors within smaller sets, furthering a sense of claustrophobia. The acting has a pointed, ice cold quality that makes every line hit noticeably hard. Anna Massey gives a fine performance as Jane, a desperate woman at the end of her rope. It all builds to a bluntly chilling climax, these moments of horror being presented with an almost documentary-like matter-of-factness. “A Woman Sobbing” is not quite as unsettling as “The Exorcism.” Its characters are thornier, its pace slower, and its social commentary not as razor sharp. However, it still left me with the same chilled, disquieted feeling as that episode. In other words, I need those remaining four episodes to resurface in some form. I need all of this shit that I can get. [8/10]

The Addams Family: Gomez the Reluctant Lover

“The Addams Family” very rarely centered episodes around Pugsley and “Gomez the Reluctant Lover” isn't about him either. He is, however, the impetus for the plot at least. Gomez and Morticia's eldest child has a case of the melancholies because he's developed a crush on his French teacher, Miss Dunbar. Her son's love-sickness concerns Morticia and she decides to re-read the love letters Gomez wrote to her way back when. She quickly decides these are inappropriate for her young son to send to a teacher but Pugsley gives one to Miss Dunbar anyway. The principal is concerned by a child writing such passionate words to a teacher and suggests Dunbar have a talk with Pugsley's parents. She visits the Addams' home and, when Gomez admits he wrote those words, Dunbar admits she was moved by his words, the first time any man has said something like that to her. Upon telling his wife of the situation, Morticia decides it would be cruel to simply tell the teacher no and instructs her husband to play along with a bit. There's a little misunderstanding and Morticia soon becomes concerned that Gomez is genuinely leaving her for Pugsley's teacher.

Disguised under the pretense of the Addams simply being eccentric, this show continued to sneak kinky and alternative lifestyles into sixties family's living rooms. “Gomez the Reluctant Lover” starts with husband and wife enacting some dentist themed role play, Gomez enjoying getting his teeth drilled. Later, Morticia walks in on another woman throwing herself at Gomez. She does not seemed distressed by this and, instead, suggest he humor the other woman... As long as Gomez stops as soon as Morticia says so. See, I knew these two were swingers! Things only start to go wrong because Morticia gives Fester the duty of transporting the safe word to Gomez' ears. This results in a very funny last third, devoted to one of my favorite comedic tropes: The conversation with two meanings. Morticia is genuinely upset, Gomez thinks she's just acting and assumes her cries of distress are cues to take it further. Of course, it all goes off the rails the minute his beloved wife speaks some French, Gomez literally pulled towards her. Unlike the last two episodes, this plays off the couple's established dynamic in a way that's funny but doesn't betray the trust they share.

Atop that amusing set-up, “Gomez the Reluctant Lover” has some strong physical gags in it. When Fester spies Gomez and Miss Dunbar getting close, he immediately slides back up the fire pole. See, that's the kind of stupid cartoon logic that makes me chuckle. The same is true of the moment when Morticia fishes out one of Gomez' old love letters and the contents are so hot that the parchment is in ashes. The reaction on Carolyn Jones'  face when attempting to read one of Gomez' old love letters to her son is priceless. There's also an extremely silly gag about what the painting she is working on is. It probably says a lot about my taste in women that I also found Jones, when throwing things and being upset near the end, to be even more attractive than usual. On that note, I don't think Jill Andre as Miss Dunbar is hideous by any means. The episode ends on the note that, the minute her glasses off, a man is able to find her attractive. As a guy who grew up with a crush on Lisa Loeb, I consider that venomous anti-girls-in-glasses propaganda. Anyway, this is probably one of the funnier season two “Addams Family” episodes I've seen so far. [710]

Halloween 2024: September 29th

Nightwatch (1994)

Nattevagten

If you are a fan of slickly shot thrillers, possibly featuring serial killers or seductive femme fatales, it's probably because you came of age in the nineties. That was this particular style's brightest point in the mainstream limelight, in the time between the slasher genre's cultural dominance and before its ironic revival later in the decade. Otherwise known as the period directly after "Silence of the Lambs" won all those Oscars. This phenomenon was not limited to the United States either. In 1994, a well photographed, low-budget thriller became the highest grossing movie of the year in Denmark. That means Ole Bornedal's "Nightwatch" outgrossed "Jurassic Park" in its home country. Since then, the film has remained well regarded by the Danes and continues to pop up on comprehensive list of genre classics. 

Law student Martin, in need of funds, takes a job as a night watchman at Copenhagen's Forensic Medical Institute. His nightly duties involve checking all the keys in the building, including in the morgue. In his time off, Martin hangs out with his girlfriend, Kalinka, and his best friend, Jens. The guys like to make juvenile challenges with each other, dares that transgress the lines of politeness. Recently, Jens has become fascinated with a prostitute named Joyce. At the same time, the city's sex workers are being targeted by a killer whose trademark is scalping the bodies... Bodies that end up at Martin's morgue. After some strange incidents at the hospital, the police begin to suspect Martin might be their killer. He wonders if Jens is the murderer. Kalinka has the same suspicions. It won't be long before the butcher's identity is revealed.

Bornedal and his team obviously studied Hitchcock before making "Nightwatch." The film puts a number of the master's lessons to work. The story slowly reveals itself to be a Wrong Man narrative, Martin accused of a crime he knows he didn't commit and rushing to clear his own name before he's locked up. The script frequently puts its characters in situations where danger is lurking right next to them. Kalinka ends up in an apartment with the killer, whose gloved hand appears around the opened door as she looks on. There's a deliberate drip-feed of information to the audience, setting up several scenes in the last third where we, the viewer, know something that the character doesn't. When it dawns on them that a murderous lunatic is in the room with them, this is often accompanied by a slow zoom-in on the actor's shocked faces. If the obvious debt "Nightwatch" shows to Hitchcock wasn't already apparent, the soundtrack features some shrieking strings clearly inspired by Bernard Herrmann's "Psycho" score. "Nightwatch" utilizes these tools well, getting your heartbeat up throughout on the way to a properly exciting finale. 

The effectively tense, and at times foreboding, atmosphere "Nightwatch" captures is largely thanks to Dan Laustsen's cinematography. The film begins with a long tracking shot, through the home as the main characters have a meal in the other room. This creates the idea of being watched, which is revisited through a number of similarly shot sequences. There's a shadowy chilliness to much of the film, the color palette going for cool blues and isolating blacks that doesn't cease when the couples are together. The forensic center is a great setting too. Martin's office resides in a glass case at the end of a long hallway, continuing the paranoid sensation of being observed. Much of the hospital is framed in sickly greens or sterile whites, solidifying the inhuman, uncomfortable sensation we associate with it. This is most true of the morgue, a room always shot in such a way that we never forget there are dead bodies right there the whole time. The clever, intuitive visuals are responsible for a large part of what makes "Nightwatch" work. 

I wish the script was that strong. It's not that "Nightwatch" is badly written. However, the film begins in a much darker place than it ends. Kim Bodnia plays Jens as an always sweaty lout, with a sleaziness about him that suggests he knows plenty about the depraved side of life. Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, meanwhile, portrays Martin as a stout-chinned, blonde babe-in-the-woods, the kind of naive and handsome guy the audience can pin their hopes on. The expectation is that Jens' presence will corrupt Martin's purity in time. That's the sense you get from the scene where the friend sadistically mocks a sex worker in a fancy restaurant or Martin does something inappropriate in the morgue. However, the narrative bends in a totally different direction, blaming the violence and depravity in the story on an outside source. Jens performs a self-sacrificing act, a metaphorical atonement for his earlier bad behavior, on the way to a happy ending that seems incompatible with the film's first act. "Nightwatch" introduces bleak and disturbing themes – necrophilia, a serial killer who mutilates sex workers, men generally treating women badly – but never builds on them in complete ways. An ultimately crowd pleasing story is stuffed with sticky subjects seemingly as flavoring only. 

The result is a film that functions best as a technical exercise, well shot with likable performances and compelling characters. Bornedal nails the mechanics of creating an intense thriller. However, he gets cold feet about the darker elements that he inserted into his own story. Clearly, others don't agree with me on this one. "Nightwatch" has made more than one list of the best Danish films of all time. Bornedal has gone onto a good career, including directing an English language remake of his breakout film and, more recently, a thirty years later sequel. (Though both seem to be regarded as inferior to the original.) Nikolaj Coster-Waldau became a successful Danish export too. While "Nightwatch" can't go toe-to-toe with its influences, I am glad I watched it. Even if a great movie is obviously somewhere in the guts of the pretty good one we got instead. [7/10]

Let's Kill Uncle (1966)

Before the sixties ended, camp horror icon William Castle would make a bid for respectability by re-mortgaging his house – the second time he raised funds that way – to purchase the rights to Ira Levin's "Rosemary's Baby." The ever-savvy Castle knew that an adaptation of the bestseller could be a bridge between the B-budget gimmick horrors that brought him fame and more prestigious fare. Ultimately, Paramount exec Robert Evans insisted Roman Polanski direct the film, Castle being slotted into a producer role instead. If you look at the movies Castle made right before this happened, you can see his growing weariness with in-theater gimmicks. Of the three pictures Castle made with Universal in the middle sixties, only "I Saw What You Did" had an outrageous marketing stunt. The other thrillers to emerge from this period, "The Night Walker" and "Let's Kill Uncle," went out gimmick-less. While the former has garnered some praise over the years, you almost never see folks talking about the other. Let's try and uncover why "Let's Killed Uncle" failed to kill viewers. 

After Russell Harrison dies in a mysterious car crash, his five million dollar fortune is set to be inherited by his twelve year old son, Barnaby. Barnaby's guardian is to be his uncle, Major Kevin Harrison, a former spy and war hero. The major lives on an isolated tropical island. Barnaby travels there with police sergeant Frank Travis and Chrissie, a girl sent to live with her aunt by an apathetic father. The island is drought with danger, including a dilapidated old hotel and shark-infested waters. The biggest danger to the kids, however, proves to be Uncle Kevin himself. He gleefully announces his intentions to murder his nephew, so that he'll inherit his late brother's wealth. The boy and Chrissie decide to go on the offensive, plotting to kill uncle before he kills them. 

Castle's brand of goofy gimmick horror always appealed to kids. You can see the director cashing in on this, by making children the central characters in "13 Ghosts" or "I Saw What You Did." "Homicidal," "Strait Jacket," and "The Night Walker" were Hitchcock knock-offs and naturally skewed older. "Let's Kill Uncle" represents an old attempt to blend these two approaches. With the stars being twelve year olds, scheming against grown-ups, the movie feels a bit like the shenanigans-filled live action Disney movies of that decade. At the same time, the perversity of an adult plotting to kill a child being played as black comedy seems like something Hitch would do. This is paired with a light romantic subplot, of the police sergeant growing closer to Chrissie's aunt, that is reminiscent of "To Catch a Thief" or "Rear Window." This is further blended with some minor Bondian elements – what with the death traps and all the talk of espionage – and more classical horror elements. Such as that spooky abandoned hotel, some hypnotism, a blanket of foggy atmosphere over a few scenes, and a jump scare involving a scarred, legless local. 

The result is a tonal oddity that never quite comes together. The movie seems designed for kids. There are outrageous plot points, such as a shark living in a swimming pool or the evil uncle being a master of mesmerism, that a child would be most convinced by. Uncle Kevin is a cartoonish villain, played with full campy verve by Nigel Green, who gleefully announces his homicidal plans to the boy. Plot points about international spying or Uncle Kevin being part of an ancient criminal conspiracy never comes to fruition, which would probably be more readily accepted by a young audience. The kiddie approach is most evident in two ways. Firstly, the movie has a terrible, deflating ending that removes much of the tension of everything that came before, showing a sort of gee-shucks optimism that is counter to the actions of the plot. Mostly though, it's those kids. Pat Cardi is often grating as the bratty, ever-energetic Barnaby. His habit of weaving big lies – which feels like it's pointing towards a "Boy Who Cried Wolf" moral that never materializes – immediately makes him unlikable. Chrissie, played by "To Kill a Mockingbird's" Mary Badham, has a conceited smarminess to her that makes her difficult to sympathize with. This is paired with a sob story background that does nothing to make her more likable. 

That "Let's Kill Uncle" never successfully blends its different tones and plot points is disappointing. When operating as a more traditional kid-friendly horror movie, it's decently effective. That derelict hotel is the best set in the movie, the location for two of the better scenes. Such as the climax, when uncle stops messing around and starts getting serious about murdering these juveniles, that features a dead body being wheeled out of the shadows. Silly as it is, the image of a shark's fin breaking through the surface of a swimming pool taps into a common childhood fear. You can feel the movie almost leaning into that dream-like vibe, with the artificiality of the island sets or the layer of mists floating over a few scenes. The sequence where the kids plot to feed Uncle Kevin some poisonous mushrooms, playing out around a dinner table, points out what could've been a deeper theme. Namely, that kids and adults live in two different worlds. Those worlds come into conflict often, children and their authority figures frequently at odds with each other. If "Let's Kill Uncle" centered this idea more, blowing up the tension between youngsters and grown-ups into a murderous narrative, it would've been a stronger, eerier movie. Instead, it recedes back into sitcom normality whenever this Grimm's fairy tale angle starts to take focus. 

I cannot over-emphasize how bad that ending is. It's been stated that several conclusions were shot, Universal choosing the lamest one. That it comes on the back of a decently macabre climax leaves the viewer with a sour feeling. If Castle had followed this up with "Rosemary's Baby," it would've been a return to form. Instead, Polanski and Evans got all the credit for the film's success and Castle suffered through a bout of kidney failure. When he returned, he was back to making films like this, that never quite come together into a cohesive whole. There's a few moments in "Let's Kill Uncle" that shows the flair for the macabre and outrageous that the director had in his best work. However, they are fleeting among a series of competing tones and a story that never quite builds on what it sets up. [5/10]

Tales from the Darkside: The Cutty Black Sow

Generally regarded among "Tales from the Darkside's" scariest episodes, "The Cutty Black Sow" is doubly appropriate for this time of year as it's set on Halloween. In the late hours of October 30th, Jamie's great grandmother is near death. In the final minutes of her life, she warns her great-grandson about the Cutty Black Sow, an entity that steals the souls of their family every Halloween. The demon can only be held off with an elaborate ritual, involving writing the initials of each family member on stones and circling them around the All Hallows Eve fire, which must burn through the night. Jamie is tasked with taking his little sister trick-or-treating but is still determined to see the practice through, lest the Cutty Black Sow take his great-grandmother's soul to Hell. Little Gloria doesn't understand what her brother is doing and that leads to trouble... 

"Tales from the Darkside" was ostensibly a program for grown-ups. However, it seems most every fan of the show first saw it as kids, traumatized by a particularly intense episode. The producers must've been aware of the show's popularity among young people, as several of its most highly rated episodes center around children. This is certainly true of "The Cutty Black Sow," which largely plays as a horror story for children. The idea of a kid taking a grandparent's warning – delivered literally on their deathbed naturally – far more seriously than his peers seems like the kind of a thing is a kid would do. Halloween being centered as the night of the horror and the responsibility towards a younger (irritating) sibling are all very child-like contrivances. This is ultimately the tale of a kid hearing an old ghost story and creeping themselves out with it, to the point of imagining monsters in the dark. What is a more child-like experience than that? 

This approach naturally lends "The Cutty Black Sow" a somewhat hokey feeling. Huckleberry Fox's performance as Jamie is utterly ridiculous. The episode largely being confined to one living room set reflects the show's cheapness. At the same time... From its opening shot, centered on a dying old woman's face, "The Cutty Black Sow" captures a certain sinister feeling. The score is heavy on the ominous drone of bagpipes. Predatory yellow eyes, staring in from a window, glowing in the dark, is a memorably creepy image. It all leads towards a surprisingly fucked-up ending that attacks a child's mind in their most vulnerable place. Yeah, I can totally see this scaring the shit out of a kid who stumbled upon it late at night, on some obscure local channel. "Tales from the Darkside" rarely had much in the way of resources or sophistication. It could still deliver an intense shock ending when it wanted, which is very much on display here. [7/10]

The Addams Family: Cousin Itt Visits the Addams Family 

The most well-known, and perhaps most bizarre, of the extended Addams family would make his first appearance in the twentieth episode. "Cousin Itt Visits" begins with Parks Commissioner Fiske arriving at Cemetery Lane, requesting a donation to open an expansion to the city zoo. The same day, the hirsute Cousin Itt comes to stay for a night. Though beloved by the family, Morticia worries about Itt's lack of employment. Gomez soon decides Itt would make a fine authority at the new zoo. However, Fiske mistakes Itt for a wild animal and displays him in a cage. This eventually leads to a wild misunderstanding about a horrible beast escaping the zoo and moving towards the Addams' home. 

Thoroughly into its first season, "The Addams Family" was a well oiled gag delivery machine by this point. "Cousin Itt Visits" begins with the memorable sight of Thing playing castanets, the first of several amusing bits. Such as Morticia naming off whatever French words she can think of, to further Gomez's excitement. (Later, Gomez admits that he also excites himself when speaking French, a line John Astin makes hilariously perverse.) Or an absurd exchange of dialogue that concerns what objects in the house Fester can shoot with his blunderbuss. Really, the cast has settled in with these characters so totally that they can make almost any bit of dialogue amusing. As seen in Ted Cassidy deadpanning a line about how Itt exits the house or Jackie Coogan's spirited reaction to the climatic injustice. 

Naturally, the episode's best absurd joke is Cousin Itt him/itself. The foreign Addamses with bizarre physical features usually only exist as off-screen jokes. That the show manages to make the first to actually visually appear stranger is a compliment to the writers. A four foot tall wig walking around is odd enough but, this show being what it is, Itt is portrayed as nothing but charming. He performs magic tricks, tells jokes, and is implied to be the life of the party wherever he goes. A surprising degree of personality is given to this squawking hairball. (Under all that shag is Felix Silla, a short actor who would have quite a storied career in genre television and film.) It's a strong enough episode that the expected bits of Alan Reed as the Parks Commissioner responding with shock to the Addams' home are quite funny. [7/10]

Halloween 2023: October 13th

The Exorcist: Believer (2023)

There hasn't been an “Exorcist” movie since 2005 and there hasn't been an especially successful “Exorcist” movie since 1973. Yet, with the fiftieth anniversary looming, it's not surprising that someone would decide to revive the possession saga. The path forward with this new iteration has been especially obvious. Universal paid big bucks to acquire the franchise rights. They partnered with Blumhouse and David Gordon Green was immediately given the reins to the series, coming right off the success of his “Halloween” trilogy. In fact, it really seemed like the idea was to do something very similar here, including inviting back a face from the original film for a new story.  No word on whether “The Exorcist: Believer” disregards the events of “Exorcist II: The Heretic” or “Exorcist III.” The legacy sequel opened to middling reviews earlier this month but that wasn't going to stop me from seeing it. 

In Haiti, photographer Victor Fielding and his pregnant wife are caught in an earthquake. She dies in childbirth but the baby lives. 13 years later, Angela is now a precocious teenager, eager to learn more about her late mother. She sneaks off with her best friend, Katherine, one night to go into the forest and perform a séance. The two girls then vanish, panicking their parents. Three days later, they are found, with no memory of their disappearance and burned feet. Soon, the girls begin to act strangely, their behavior escalating to disturbing heights. Katherine's highly religious family are convinced their daughter is possessed. Victor, an atheist, is skeptical. Yet reading a book written by Chris McNeil, about her daughter being possessed and the subsequent exorcism, convinces him to track McNeil down and ask for her help. Soon, a group of leaders from different faiths are brought in to save Angela and Katherine's souls from the grip of evil. 

For whatever it's worth, “The Exorcist: Believer” has a decent first act. The opening in Haiti blatantly recalls the original Iraq-set prologue. Once that passes, the film is allowed to do its own thing for a while. Victor and Angela's relationship is nicely established. He loves her daughter, she's close to her dad. The death of their mother still looms over them both, Angela doing what she can to reconnect with a topic her father is clearly still processing. “Believer” doesn't pile on the jump scares or cheap shocks too much in its first forty minutes, taking time to establish Victor as a conflicted protagonist. Once the girls disappear, and the different parents are tossed together in a panicked search, I was actually kind of feeling this one. I was genuinely intrigued to see where it might be going.

Where it was going, perhaps inevitably, is a fairly pale imitation of the original. Unlike some people, I have nothing against David Gordon Green. I was one of the few folks who loved “Halloween Ends.” Yet the simple truth is he's not as good of a director as the late, great William Friedkin. I mean, how many people are? So many of Friedkin's films have a genuine unhinged quality to them, a sense of real danger, that Green was never going to capture. This becomes abundantly clear once “Believer” starts going for scares. Most of the possessed girl business in this sequel are uninspired rehashes. The girls gain scarred up bodies and faces. They swear inappropriately, bleeding from various orifices, while demon faces will flash on-screen briefly. Once the actual exorcism begins in the last third, there really isn't anything too exciting happening. At least the sequel holds off on the levitation and projectile vomiting as long as possible. The same can't be said for the prominent use of a silver crucifix, which is easily “Believer's” most stilted and embarrassing moment. 

Yet a lack of fresh scares is not even the biggest problem with “Believer.” The truth is the sequel simply doesn't have the complexity of the original. “The Exorcist” is a movie about faith really being tested. It's about the question of good and evil, how it resides in us, and whether anything can be done to challenge it. Notably, the exorcism in the original doesn't actually work and a noble man making a sacrifice is what actually makes a difference. Even then, there is a question of ambiguity in the air, of what driving the devil out of this girl has actually cost. “Believer,” meanwhile, goes with a much simpler message about religious solidarity. Katherine's parents are Southern Baptists. The nurse, who was almost a nun, that assist Victor is Catholic and gets a priest involved. His next door neighbor is Pentecostal, while a local hoodoo practitioner is the main driving force during the exorcism. A rather loaded monologue points out that, though all these faiths are different, they all believe in the power of good, that people can make a difference.

Honestly, I don't think this is an especially compelling angle. “The Exorcist” reflected the crisis of faith in the early seventies, when traditional religion was playing less of an important role in a modern, more cynical world. 2023 is a totally different time, when mass religion has been commercialized by prosperity doctrine shit-heads and weaponized by the right-wing outrage machine in a way that's certainly not new but definitely seriously insidious. How are we suppose to take a film with a heroic Catholic priest seriously in a world were the church's dirtiest secret is public knowledge? If the film is so concerned with a multicultural angle, why are all its represented religious faiths Christian denominations? Why wasn't a Rabbi or Muslim imam consulted? An ultimately feel-good message about how what unites us is stronger than what divides us, and that faith is essential across all belief systems, seems like a limp reflection of what “The Exorcist” is actually about.

Then again, it's not like an “Exorcist” sequel being disappointing or failing to live up to the original is anything new. It's actually standard practice for this franchise. At least “Believer” has a decent cast. Leslie Odom Jr. clearly invested some emotional depth as Victor. Lidya Jewell and Olivia O'Neill are convincing as peppy teenage girls, even if their demonic contortions feel uninspired. It's nice to see Ann Dowd as the attending nurse. Really, the only cast member who truly phones it in is the most hyped one. Ellen Burstyn doesn't seem especially interested to be here. She gets some of the sequel's most awkward, ungainly dialogue. Considering Chris McNeil repeatedly says she's not an exorcist, before attempting to perform an exorcism, you kind of have to wonder why she's in this story at all. 

But the answer to that question is obvious. “Believer” wouldn't be a real legacy sequel if it didn't have someone from the original film in the cast. The most obvious surviving cast member from the original is saved for the last-minute cameo, plot points floating around her clearly being reserved for a perspective sequel. (Which may or may not come to pass, now that this one opened softly.) “Believer” isn't terrible, like many have reported. It certainly doesn't hit the low point of “The Beginning.” Yet it is, at worst, unambitious and lacking in complexity. Say what you will about “The Heretic,” at least it had a lot of ideas on its mind. I'm sure William Friedkin would've hated it but I don't think the sequel deserves that much scorn. It's not that interesting. “Believer” ultimately plays things too safe, recycling old scares and refusing to engage with its ideas in any real way. [5/10] 

13 Frightened Girls (1963)

In Joe Dante's frequently overlooked gem “Matinee,” there's a scene where Lawrence Woolsey – a stand-in for king of gimmick horror, William Castle – is mistaken for Alfred Hitchcock. This, no doubt, references Castle's evident desire to be the American answer to Hitchcock. “Homicidal” was clearly inspired by “Psycho,” “Strait Jacket” featured a script from “Psycho” scribe Robert Bloch, and “I Saw What You Did” turned the famous shower scene on its head. Another attempt by Castle to emulate Hitch was 1963's “13 Frightened Girls,” which obviously drew inspiration from the Master of Suspense's many espionage thrillers. It's kind of like if “The 39 Steps” starred a bunch of teenage girls. And the film is just macabre enough to sneak into a horror marathon...

“13 Frightened Girls” is set at an exclusive school for diplomat's daughters, girls from all over the world gathered together in this one place. One such teenager is Candice Hull. Nicknamed Candy, she harbors an unrequited crush on Wally Sanders, a CIA agent and a friend of her father's. Wally is not an especially successful spy and is potentially facing termination from his job. Candy takes it upon herself to save Wally's employment. She begins to spy on the fathers and uncles of her classmates, mailing the tips to Wally under the code name “Kitten.” She soon uncovers a deadly Red China communist plot and earns the wrath of a master spy known only as “Spider.” Spider is the one who kidnaps Candy and twelve of her classmates.

Much like the original “Star Trek,” “13 Frightened Girls” represents one of those well-intentioned but somewhat misguided sixties attempts to showcase global diversity. On paper, the idea of a movie centering around characters from thirteen different countries is a great chance to showcase other cultures. Yet the film doesn't give much screen time to the majority of these girls. When they do, they are depicted more-or-less as stereotypes. The Russian girl is loudly proud of her Soviet strength. The Argentinean girl is a fiery Latina. The French girl is haughty. The Japanese girl is accompanied by a distinctive musical motif. You can guess the one. I suppose having Mai-Ling the Chinese girl, played by Lynne Sue Moon, be Candy's best friend was pretty bold in 1963. (She wears a qipao, of course.) Yet that's negated somewhat by Chinese agents being the main antagonists of the film. 

Ultimately, most of the thirteen girls mentioned in the title aren't developed much beyond their accents. The majority of them are only identified by their countries of origin. Instead, “13 Frightened Girls” is mostly focused on Candy, her attempts to win Wally's approval, and her missions in the world of espionage. The latter is portrayed in a largely episodic fashion, such as in a mostly disconnected sequence where she brushes up to a Dutch diplomat. The former, meanwhile, is quite uncomfortable. Wally, played with a weaselly Murray Hamilton, has an age-appropriate love interest and shows no romantic interest in the teenage girl. Yet it is a little weird that a movie about a sixteen year old girl so obsessed with an adult man, to the point that she risks her own life to prove her love, doesn't make it clear that this is a hopeless infatuation for her. 

You might be reading this review and asking why am I discussing this film for a Halloween marathon. None of this sounds like a horror movie, right? “13 Frightened Girls'” marketing played up the spider connection and the girls in peril, probably because William Castle's earlier hits were horror. Yet the actual movie is on the marginal side of the genre. The opening sequence features a fun shock, of a tarantula crawling over a bus windshield. As Candy explores the mansion of Mai-Ling's family, she sneaks through a cobweb-strewn secret passageway. She discovers a dead body hanging over her head and there's a few more corpses later on in the film. Castle's film does generate a little bit of tension, largely because Kathy Dunn makes Candy a likable heroine that runs into danger throughout the story. Yet the tone largely remains light-hearted, often causing “13 Frightened Girls” to feel a little like the Disney version of a Hitchcock thriller. 

Being a William Castle film, “13 Frightened Girls” was accompanied by a gimmick. In this case, an amusing publicity stunt: A casting call was announced to locate the thirteen titular girls from each of their corresponding countries. Maybe not as memorable as skeletons flying through the theater or joy-buzzers in the theater seats but a neat idea. And one that was ultimately not fulfilled, as the Liberian girl was played by an American actress. Anyway, “13 Frightened Girls” mildly entertains during its brief runtime. A montage of “Kitten's” letters, set to images of a little white kitty walking around a globe, made me chuckle. Yet it definitely ranks among the more minor of Castle's films. [6/10]

Amazing Stories: Remote Control Man

“Amazing Stories” was an attempt by Steven Spielberg to bring theatrical quality to network TV. Many episodes were directed by noteworthy filmmakers. Spielberg himself made two. Other notable names include Scorsese, Dante, Zemecksis, Eastwood, and even Burt Reynolds. I don't know if Bob Clark was ever as respected as those guys but he's a cult favorite in his own right. Clark would direct the tenth episode of the series, “Remote Control Man.” It follows Walter Poindexter, an accountant with a hateful wife and two garbage sons. His sole escape is television. After his wife sells the TV, he is pressured by otherworldly salesmen into purchasing a high-tech new set. He soon discovers that he can replace the people in his mundane life with characters from his favorite programs. Yet this dream scenario soon turns into a nightmare.

Despite its high production values and talented directors, “Amazing Stories” veered towards whimsy too often. Unfortunately, “Remote Control Man” resembles Bob Clark's comedies far more than “Black Christmas.” From its opening minutes, a tone of shrill humor is established. Sydney Lassick – a character actor who had a great career but I probably most recognize as the loud-mouthed sheriff from “Silent Madness” – plays Walter as a sweaty loser. His wife immediately screams at him. His youngest son tries to grind his dad's hand off in the garbage disposal. His oldest son is a Hare Krishna, that frequent target of scorn in low-brow eighties comedies. Walter has to contend with a group of rabid dogs every time he steps out the door, even creating an elaborate dummy to fool them. Most obnoxiously, nobody ever takes his side. Even a random old woman on the street is mean to him. The universe exists to shit on this guy.

All of this is before “Remote Control Man's” main gimmick comes into play. That would be Walter transporting well-known TV personalities into his living room. This makes “Remote Control Man” a delivery system for then-relevant pop culture references. That means Gary Coleman, June Cleaver, and Dirk Benedict as Face all have prominent roles. Before the end, Richard Simmons, Ed McMahon, Jim Lange, LaWanda Page, K.I.T.T., and the Incredible Hulk (played by Body by Jake, not Lou Ferrigno) also show up. The significance of any of these characters is not established, the program assuming the audience must be familiar with them. I guess the makers of “Remote Control Man” didn't anticipate anyone watching it forty years later. I bet most of the jokes here would play as total non-sequiturs to a zoomer.

The humor is largely obnoxious, heavy on the screaming and physical battering. It's all so cartoonish, reflecting a truly hateful perception of people and the world. Of course, Walter gets to sleep with a empty-headed supermodel too, presenting this whole thing as a very ugly fantasy. Shit like this reminds me that Bob Clark also made the “Porky's” movies and “Baby Geniuses.” The story wraps up with an obvious twist ending and a moral – appreciate those you have and don't watch so much TV! – that is completely unearned. Especially considering that Walter's family is genuinely awful. Among the many cameos are also Professor Toru Tanaka and Sid Haig, though they aren't playing any famous characters. This is definitely an example of a story that's far from amazing... [4/10]

The Munsters: Herman's Lawsuit / A Visit from the Teacher

“The Munsters” remained popular throughout its second season but rating took a nose-dive after “Batman” debuted opposite the show. You'd never know the end was neigh from the last two episodes though. “Herman's Lawsuit” and “A Visit from the Teacher” are typical installments. While out on a walk, Herman crosses a street and is struck by a car. Naturally, the car is much worse for wear than he is afterwards. The woman's lawyer talks him into suing the family for repairs. This sends Herman into a panic, causing him to run away from home. “A Visit from the Teacher” has Eddie writing about his family for a school project. His teachers naturally assume that the boy's claims are wild fantasies, prompting a visit to 1313 Mockingbird Lane from the faculty. Of course, they are in for a surprise.

“Herman's Lawsuit” is one of those episodes of “The Munsters” that starts in one place before digressing into an even wilder place. By the end, we are greeted to a montage of Herman working all sorts of odd jobs. Such as a dock worker, a target in a carnival game, and seemingly joining the Foreign Legion. Which sets up an even stranger reveal at the end. This provides the kind of seriously wacky sight gags you expect from this series. Some more subtle jokes about Herman's other jobs – such as his stay at a morgue – made me laugh harder though. The interaction between Herman and the car wreck is probably most notable for the way Fred Gwynne's hair piece flops of his head as he falls down. There's also a surprisingly dark gag where the raven in the family clock tries to help the dad shoot himself.

“A Visit from the Teacher” is naturally built around normal people reacting to the Munsters' macabre appearances. At least it goes about it in a more restrained way than you'd expect. The principal and Eddie's teacher are slowly given a taste of the family, Herman's face even being kept in the dark thanks to a freak black-out. It's a better approach than going right to the exaggerated screaming and fleeing that we usually get. Most of the wackier gags come from Grandpa's attempts to generate electricity, causing the household appliances to go nuts. The final joke of the episode – and, in turn, the entire series – sees Herman sitting down to eat his breakfast as Grandpa causes water to explode from all the house's pipes. Certainly an inauspicious but representative way for the show to go out. [Herman's Lawsuit: 6/10 / A Visit from the Teacher: 6/10]

Even though “The Munsters” would only run for two seasons, its cultural legacy is greater than that implies. It says a lot that this two season show was still running in syndication thirty years later, when I saw it as a kid. There have been multiple attempts to revive it over the years: A reunion special, a late eighties revival that actually ran for three episodes longer than the original, two TV movies in the nineties. I thought Bryan Fuller's one-and-done pilot had a lot of potential. That Universal allowed Rob Zombie to make his glorified fan film last year suggests the “Munsters” brand still has some life in it, nearly sixty years after the fact. I gotta say, I enjoyed watching my way through this cheesy old sitcom. “The Munsters” remains a comfy, goofy program for this overgrown monster kid. I guess I've got to start watching “The Addams Family” next year?