Halloween 2017: September 25

The Resurrected (1992)

When people list off the great horror filmmakers, Dan O’Bannon’s name is too often left off. As a screenwriter, O’Bannon helped create stone cold classics like “Alien” and “Total Recall.” He also had his names on cult favorites like “Dead and Buried,” “Heavy Metal,” and “Lifeforce.” And as a director, he gifted the world with “Return of the Living Dead,” one of the eighties’ greatest zombie movies. His second directorial feature would see him adapting H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward.” This is fitting, as “Alien” contained some of Lovecraft’s DNA. The resulting film would be re-cut, retitled, and shuffled onto video with little fanfare. In the years since, some have reevaluated “The Resurrected” as an underrated and overlooked classic.

John March is a private detective living and working in Providence, Rhode Island. An attractive young woman comes into his office with a very odd case. Her husband, Charles Ward, has disappeared. March soon tracks the man down at a solitary country cabin, where he’s acting very strange. Ward is placed in a mental hospital soon afterwards. As March digs deeper into Ward’s case, he uncovers something unnerving. Ward is the ancestor of Joseph Curwin, a man accused of witchcraft a hundred years prior. After uncovering more evidence, March comes to believe that Curwin is Ward, somehow returned to life. His case only gets stranger from there.

Lovecraft’s original story was already something of a mystery, about a doctor attempting to figure out what caused Charles Ward to start acting so strange. O’Bannon ran with that aspect, making “The Resurrected” into a full blown detective story. There’s even a deliberate film noir vibe. March’s involvement with the plot begins with a strange woman enters his office. March is given a voice over narration, which stops just short of featuring some hard-boiled language. Ultimately, O’Bannon’s desire to turn Lovecraft’s story into a quasi-noir becomes a bit of a problem. “The Resurrected” veer towards convoluted at times, a few too many subplots not adding up. Twice, characters have to stop and explain the plot. Blending Lovecraft and mystery fiction wasn’t a new idea but is still a fun one.

As a horror movie, “The Resurrected” gets increasingly grisly as it goes on. The film begins as more atmospheric. There’s spooky shots of an old houses, surrounded by fog. A memorable shot features some wild dogs, howling amid a desolated landscape. The film makes the New England countryside look as foreboding as possible. A scalpel slashing a hand open, spurting blood, signals a shift in tone. A flashback to Curwin’s days conclude with a startling shot of a writhing, half decomposed, partially undead body. A lengthy portion of the film’s second half is devoted to exploring the catacombs under Ward’s cabin. What the heroes find there are horrifying masses of body horror. The twitching amalgamations of different corpses, fused together, lurch out of the shadows, in several shocking moments. The film’s climax features even stronger horror, as Curwin twists an orderly’s head. The villain’s final fate is a startling display of special effects. There’s even a stop-motion skeleton!

What about the film’s cast? I was a little uncertain of John Terry’s performance as March, at first. Some of his line readings, especially in the voiceover, come across as flat. In other moments, Terry is a really likable lead. He has nice chemistry with the other cast members. Laurie Briscoe appears as March’s secretary while Robert Romanus is Lenny, his investigative partner. Together, the three make a fun team, having a natural, breezy interaction. Jane Sibbett plays Claire, Ward’s horrified wife. Sibbett is vulnerable but resourceful, especially once she crawls down into her husband’s pit of horror. Of course, Chris Sarandon steals the show as Ward/Curwin. Sarandon puts on a convincing antiqued accent. As a villain, he projects a threatening air. He gets to really cut loose in the final scene, hamming it wonderfully as the fully unleashed necromancer.

“The Resurrected” is a decently compelling mystery and a very cool horror movie. Whatever flaws it has may not be O’Bannon’s fault. His original cut, entitled “The Ancestor,” was re-edited by the studio. In some areas, the movie was given the intriguing but nonsensical new title of “Shatterbrain.” Perhaps some of the narrative issues are the result of these differing edits. While O’Bannon’s death makes an official release of his director’s cut unlikely, “The Resurrected” is still pretty good in its present form. Thanks to a shiny recent Blu-Ray release from Scream Factory, the film is being rediscovered and further reevaluated as one of the better Lovecraft adaptations. [7/10]

Frayed (2007)

There's probably about a thousand killer clown movies out there. It's a cheap and easy gimmick to give your horror movie villain and one that will freak out a portion of your audience. A lot of these movies go direct-to-video and most of them, it's fair to say, are terrible. I doubt critical reevaluations of the “S.I.C.K./Mr. Jingles,” “Fear of Clowns,” or “Killjoys” series are forthcoming. So, during my tenure at Blockbuster Video, when “Frayed” crossed our video shelves, I dismissed it as more of the same. However, I would later read a highly positive review from the good folks at Kindertrauma. All these years later, I'm finally getting around to giving the film a watch.

At the birthday party of his eight year old sister, Sara, little Kurt Baker displays some anti-social behavior. First, he goes ballistic on the pinata. Then he ruins his sister's cake. Lastly, he brutally beats his mother to death with a baseball bat. Kurt is placed in a mental hospital and the years go by. His dad, the local sheriff, is haunted by Kurt's murder but attempts to move on. He remarries. Sara, now a young adult, has a best friend and a boyfriend. On the night she decides to stay out with this boy, Kurt escapes from the hospital. Wearing a clown mask, he begins to stalk and kill the family members who have tried to forget him.

When “Frayed” is discussed – which isn't often – usually the movie's opening scene is singled out. And rightfully so. That first sequence is brilliant. Through some shaky camcorder footage, we watch Kurt's bad behavior slowly escalate. When the murder comes, it's shockingly brutal. Using some clever CGI, we see the mother's face get battered, her forehead bruising, her mouth splitting open. “Frayed” never recaptures that moment. However, the movie occasionally features a few other clever gags. One has the killer's face slowly appear in a window, behind a woman's shoulders. Another scene has Kurt suddenly leaping out of a backseat, attacking the car's driver with a screwdriver.

However, these effective scenes only comprise a small part of “Frayed.” The movie, which runs nearly two hours long, is primarily devoted to seemingly endless build-up. We see Kurt escape from the mental hospital. We see the dead bodies of his few victims. We get to know all about Sara and her friends' life. I understand, and even somewhat applaud, what the director was trying to do. In theory, a horror movie is more effectively if we care about the characters. In practice, the effect is somewhat tedious. By the time Sara and her buddy begin to argue, in the middle of a tense situation, I was really getting tired of things. “Frayed” is far too long and not nearly as interesting as the filmmaker seems to think.

For all its flaws, “Frayed” at least functions as a decent slasher in the last act. The movie is clearly indebted to “Halloween” and directly pays homage to it. However, any momentum “Frayed” has collapses at the end. The script displays a twist ending. Killer clown Kurt and a helpful supporting character, we learn, are actually the same person. One twist is not enough for this movie. We then learn that Kurt didn't kill his mother, that she was actually murdered by someone else. In an almost offensive moment, this suddenly appearing killer also sexually molested Kurt. Yet even this isn't the last twist. There's yet another one, revealing that the entire movie isn't what it appears to be. No, “Frayed” doesn't stop there either. A post-credit scene hints at the true identity of Kurt's molester, that he might strike again. Give me a break. I was fed up after the first asinine twist. By the fourth, “Frayed' had used up any good will it had left.

I'm sorry to say that Kindertrauma was wrong about this one. “Frayed” does have a corker of an opening scene. The movie fails to live up to that moment. In fact, it repeatedly tramples on everything effective about its beginning. Throw in some annoying cinematic tricks – like some spasm-inducing peeks into the killer's mad mind – and I really struggle to recommend this one. There's not much killer clown action either, as the greasepaint just provide the murderer with a mask, not a gimmick. Perhaps the directors should have just made a short film instead? [5/10]

Masters of Horror: Pelts

By the time “Masters of Horror” rolled around, Dario Argento had gone from being one of the genre’s greatest voices to the man behind embarrassing flubs like “Phantom of the Opera” and “Dracula 3D.” Unsurprisingly, his two episodes for the series would be divisive and widely disliked. “Pelts” concerns Feldman, an egregiously sleazy fur trader. When not rending animal skin or browbeating his employees, he harasses Shanna, a local stripper. That’s where Feldman is when he gets a tip from an old trapper. The trapper has captured some impressive raccoon pelts. Feldman uses them to make a gorgeous fur coat. However, the pelts are connected to the sacred grounds of an Indian tribe. The vengeful spirits of the dead animals enact their revenge, making sure everyone who interacts with the furs dies a hideous death.

Argento’s first “Masters of Horror” episode, “Jenifer,” was mostly concerned with graphic violence and explicit sex. He doesn’t break this trend with “Pelts.” Despite only being an hour long, “Pelts” squeezes in six elaborate death scenes. Some of the cringers involve a severe baseball bat beating, a man falling face first into a steel trap, a self-disemboweling, and a woman sewing her nostrils and lips shut. In the last act, a man skins himself with a large knife, stalking a victim in only his exposed muscle. An early scene shows the aftermath of a raccoon chewing its paw off to escape a trap. This is mirrored in the final scene, where a woman’s arm is torn off in an elevator door. Argento dismisses with any suspense by beginning the episode with the main characters, dead and bloody, and backtracking from there. He’s not interested in the people, only their gory executions.

This isn’t the only type of flesh Dario is eager to put on display. “Pelts” is somehow sleazier than “Jenifer,” a story about an evil teenage girl seducing men. Feldman isn’t merely romantically obsessed with Shanna. He’s enamored with her ass, desiring anal sex with her. A private dance practically turns into a rape scene. Upon presenting her with the finished fur coat, he gets his wish, in a very graphic moment. Ellen Ewusie – who is, it must be said, totally fucking stacked – spends nearly the entire episode naked. Argento even throws in a lesbian sex scene, which is equally graphic and totally gratuitous. The blatantly sexual tone pairs oddly with the deeply misanthropic atmosphere.

Super sleazy sex and ridiculously graphic gore, however, can be appealing. “Pelts’” content is so extreme that I think it’s supposed to be partially comedic. The performances hold this out. Meat Loaf – yes, that Meat Loaf – is a sweating, lumbering, madman as Feldman. It’s a performance that leaves good taste behind in a very entertaining fashion. John Saxon is similarly over-the-top as the fur trapper, a toothless old redneck and drunkard. Holding it all together is a surprisingly elegant score from Claudio Simonetti. I’m not really sure if “Pelts” is a good hour of horror but it is, in the most base, lizard brain sort of way, an entertaining one. I guess that’s the most we can hope for from Dario Argento these days. [7/10]

Perversions of Science: Planely Possible

The punniful title of “Perversions of Science” doesn’t refer to airplanes, as I assumed, but dimensional planes. Walter Thurman’s wife is murdered by a home invader. He has never recovered from the trauma and is preoccupied with questions of “What if?” That’s when he has a chance meeting with Dr. Rotwang. The doctor is a former NASA engineer who not only believes in alternate dimensions. He also has invented a machine capable of transporting someone to them. Walter immediately signs up to be the test subject. Walter travels to other versions of this world where his wife is alive. Yet this is not the only difference. Walter finds himself arriving in multiple, horrifying, alternate Earths.

With four left to go, “Perversions of Science” finally delivers another half-way decent episode. The shifting narrative is centered around George Newbern’s Walter, who gives a likably nervous performance. The dimension leaping premise presents opportunities for all sorts of wacky situations. In one, Walter’s wife stretches into a mutated spider monster. In another, World War III has happened. In yet another, his wife is a murderer. This is the sort of wacky, quasi-comedic but creatively gruesome premise that “Tales from the Crypt” succeeded with. Russell Mulcahy contributes moody direction, making good use of shadows and camera angles. Vincent Schiavelli is amusingly hammy as Dr. Rotwang, a well-intentioned but still somewhat unstable scientist. Dr. Joyce Brothers, of all people, also has a cameo. Yes, Chrome’s host segments are still devoted to deeply juvenile sexual double entendres. But this is still probably the best episode of “Perversions of Science,” thus far. [7/10]

Halloween 2017: September 24

The Unnamable (1988)

There aren't many traditional heroes among H.P. Lovecraft's many stories. Especially compared to his pulp contemporaries, Lovecraft's lead characters tend to be somewhat feeble. Scholarly intellectuals are more likely to appear than two-fisted adventurers. The character most indicative of the Lovecraft Hero is Randolph Carter, one of his few re-occurring protagonists. Carter is an expert in the occult and the Dreamlands, an unpublished author who sprouts long reams of expositionary dialogue. He's also prone to fainting, being described as extremely nervous from time to time. Aside from his collection of Elder Gods and Old Ones, he's probably the author's most famous creation. Carter's first on-screen appearance was in the 1988 low budget film, “The Unnamable.”

In Arkham, Massachusetts, near Miskatonic University, there is a place known as the Winthrop House. A hundred years ago, a demonic child was born there. Unable to kill the demon, the child's father attempted to imprison her before being killed himself. Supposedly, the monster still occupies the house. This is the legend anyway. Randolph Carter believes it but his friend, Howard, is skeptical. When a friend of their's vanishes inside the house, Carter and Howard decide to investigate. On the same night, two college couples decide the haunted Winthrop House is the perfect make-out spot. Soon, the Unnamable is hunting all of them.

There's not too much to Lovecraft's “The Unnamable.” The story is essentially Carter telling his friend about the legend before the two are briefly attacked by the monster. Writer/director Jean-Paul Ouellette essentially uses this as the opening of his adaptation. (He also mixes in part of the Jersey Devil legend, with the detail of a mother's unwanted child being a monster.) From there, “The Unnamable” essentially becomes a slasher flick. The movie follows a group of horny college students, trapped in a spooky house. They are then hunted down one by one, a killer murdering each of them. There's the required nudity, when some heavy petting gets heavier. There's plenty of gore too. The Unnamable tears heads off, snaps necks, slashes faces, and yanks out guts. I doubt Lovecraft would appreciate his work being associated with such a low genre. But “The Unnamable's” straight-ahead quality makes it more appealing to us horror fans.

“The Unnamable” was pretty obviously a low budget production. The majority of the film is set inside the dusty old house, with little in the way of sets beyond that. In order to pass the time between the murder scenes, the film is padded out with long scenes of people exploring the Winthrop House. Some of these scenes are mildly suspenseful. When Howard and Carter's friend first enters the home, there's a quiet tension as he explores the dark hallways. Later, after the guys and girls arrive, there are longer moments of people walking around the house. These verge more towards the tedious. It doesn't help that it's pretty obvious which characters will live and which will die. The jock, his slutty girlfriend, the other generic fratboy, and the wacky comic relief might as well have targets on their backs. Howard, Carter, and the European transfer student are obviously going to live.

Despite these slower moments, “The Unnamable” does make up for it in a few ways. First off, it's got a pretty cool monster. The Unnamable actually does have a name. She's called Alyda Winthrop. As in Lovecraft's text, the female creature has devil horns and cloven feet. Yet the film is surprisingly sympathetic to its monsters. Alyda is obviously a ruthless killer yet, when she's hurt, she screams in a very human fashion. The film emphasizes Alyda's recognizably human characteristics. Her body is identifiable as a naked female body, making her somewhat vulnerable. You can tell some thought went into the creature's performance. (Katrin Alexandre is credited with playing Alyda but an interview in “The Lurker in the Lobby” confirms that this was a pseudonym for a well-known dancer. You're guess is as good as mine as to who that could be.) Mark Kinsey Stephenson is also fantastic as Randolph Carter, essentially embodying Lovecraft's brainy but somewhat courageous hero.

“The Unnamable” does have a pretty sloppy script at times. While exploring the house, Carter just happens to find the Necronomicon. The book provides the spell needed to contain Alyda. This leads to a somewhat baffling conclusion, the exact nature of the monster's defeat being rather comical. Yet “The Unnamable” is still pretty satisfying. It functions as a tasty bit of exploitation while, somehow, honoring Lovecraft's original ideas. If you have no pre-existing preference for low budget, eighties monster movies, you probably won't think much of it. For the rest of it, this is a fun flick to spent less than ninety minutes with. [7/10]

Funny Man (1994)

I first became aware of “Funny Man” in a way that seems especially antiquated now: I saw the DVD box in a video store. I was a teenager, browsing the horror section at my late, lamented Sun Coast. The jester-like character on the cover caught my eye. As did the presence of Christopher Lee and the box's claims that the film was a “cult classic.” I didn't buy the film, because I had a strict policy at the time of only buying films I had already seen. However, do to my obsessive nerdiness, the title stuck in my brain all these years. Considering the killer clown theme I'm tackling this first week of the Blog-a-thon, I figured now was the time to finally watch this mysterious movie. After all, a killer jester is basically the same thing as a killer clown, right?

Loosely inspired by the legend of Tom Skelton, a homicidal jester said to haunt Muncaster Castle in Cumbria, England. “Funny Man” begins with a poker game. Rock music executive Max Taylor wins the ancestral castle home of the Chance family in a poker game. He quickly moves his wife, teenage daughter, and young son into the place. His never-was rock star brother is on the way to join them. Upon entering the castle, Max spins a wheel of fate game. This frees an evil creature living on the castle grounds. Calling himself the Funny Man, the demonic jester proceeds to kill everyone he comes across in whimsical, irrelevant ways.

I don't know much about Simon Sprackling, “Funny Man's” director and writer. Aside from this film, he's mostly directed DVD special features concerning other British horror movies. However, it's clear Sprackling has some talent. “Funny Man” is a good looking film. The use of lighting is atmospheric, characters often bathed in strange light. The use of color is clever, many of the movie's sets given an unreal feeling. Sprackling throws together some memorable images, such as a raving mad victim wearing a jester's hat made of dismembered arms. “Funny Man” clearly had some money behind its production too. The castle set is quite cool. The various settings the Funny Man creates are vivid. One especially neat one is a staircase that spirals down into a drill-like point. The creature make-up is solid. The special effects are convincing.

It's just a shame that “Funny Man's” plot makes absolutely zero sense. What story the movie does have is quickly abandoned. Within a half-hour, “Funny Man” degrades into long scenes of the evil jester messing with his potential victims. The clown's powers are seemingly unlimited. The settings shift from scene to scene. One moment takes place on a beach. Another is in a seedy strip club. There's a green glowing underworld, with a vague western theme. These segments rarely connect with each other. The characters wander around until they encounter the titular monster, meeting their fate soon afterwards. By the end, which features an utterly bizarre rock performance, “Funny Man” has entirely abandoned logic and reason. It would not surprise me to discover the movie was shot without a script.

The driving factor behind “Funny Man's” existence seems to be the movie's unusual sense of humor. The Funny Man likes to mess with his victims. He often chit-chats with people before killing them. This is apparent in a scene where he insists a man wears a music-playing retro wig before entering a club – yes, it's weird – and then afterwards, where he awkwardly talks with the guy. The Funny Man is so chatty that he often breaks the fourth wall, addressing the audience directly. This sense of humor entered into the absurdly gory death scenes. A teenager, while playing a Gameboy, has her head blown off with jumper cables. Another woman, dressed as “Scooby-Doo's” Velma for no reason, receives a shotgun blast to the back of the head. This cause her brain, eyes, and glasses to fly across the room. Another victim is dispatched with a modern version of a Punch and Judy show. It's occasionally creative but usually utterly baffling.

Making “Funny Man” even more difficult to understand are the thick British accents of the cast. Sometimes, I straight-up could not understand anything anyone was saying. The film's sense of humor – absurd, ribald, conversational – also strikes me as extremely British. Despite what the DVD case says, I kind of doubt that “Funny Man” has much of a cult following. I'm sure, however, someone out there loves this weird-ass movie. It's defiantly singular, if nothing else. Christopher Lee, by the way, only appears in a few scenes. He does, however, sing the theme song. So the movie has that going for it. [5/10]

Masters of Horror: Pro-Life

John Carpenter's first “Masters of Horror” episode was, in actually, a homage to a different master. His “Cigarette Burns” recalled the films of Dario Argento. His season two episode, “Pro-Life,” was written as a homage to Carpenter's own filmography. The episode begins with Angelique, a fifteen year old girl, running through the woods. She's rescued by a doctor and nurse, who work at a near-by abortion clinic. The girl is the daughter of Dwayne Burcell, a fanatical pro-life protester. And she's pregnant, seeking to terminate the baby. However, this is no ordinary pregnancy. Angelique was apparently raped by a demon, the baby inside developing at an extraordinary rate. Outside the clinic, Dwayne hears a voice, commanding him to enter the clinic and protect his unborn grandson. Violence breaks out soon afterwards.

As I said, Drew McWeeny and Scott Swan – who also wrote “Cigarette Burns” – wrote “Pro-Life” as an intentional throwback to Carpenter's eighties output. The episode is a siege movie. Befitting an eightes-style action story, “Pro-Life” is heavy on gunfire. Burcell gets into several gun fights with one of the doctors. These shoot-outs lead to some pretty intense gore. People have their heads blown open. One of Burcell's sons is shot in the neck, bleeding out quickly. Another explicit shot revolves around a man receiving a shotgun shell to the gut. However, the episode's gory streak hits a snag during its most explicit sequence. When Burcell turns the abortion tools on one of the male doctors, “Pro-Life” becomes preoccupied with its own grisliness.

“Pro-Life” features a good cast. Ron Perlman is convincingly harsh yet believably sanctimonious as Burcell. Caitlin Wachs is sympathetic as the young mother, thrown into a situation she can barely comprehend. Yet “Pro-Life” didn't receive the positive review that met “Cigarette Burns.” A big problem with the episode is its wishy-washy politics. The script is pretty clearly pro-choice, portraying pro-life activists as insanely violent and unhinged. Yet the politics of the situation rarely play into the proceedings. The Burcells are merely bad guys, their beliefs being largely irrelevant to the actual story. What's really confusing is the ending. After the demonic baby is born, and then killed, the demonic father genuinely mourns his child's lost. How are we to interpret this? It's good that the demon baby was aborted but too bad for its dad? There's no clear point to this one, which undermines what otherwise would've been a decent thriller. [6/10]

Perversions of Science: Given the Heir

“Perversions of Science” backslides again in its fifth episode. “Given the Heir” follows Lisa Gerou, a woman living in the far-flung future year of 2006. She's obsessed with Nick Boyer, a long dead millionaire. She travels back in time, to 1997, to be with him. Lisa uses her knowledge of the future to access Boyer's bank account. She then quickly seduces him, the two making love in his penthouse. Yet Nick quickly picks up that there's something weird going on. Soon, the two lovers are at each other's throat. Lisa, however, is not the person Nick believes her to be.

If the title didn't make it obvious, “Perversions of Science” was a show obsessed with being sexy. Chrome's host segments are 97% crude sexual double entendres. (This one begins with a groan-worthy joke about solitaire. "Playing with yourself" in other words.) “Given the Heir” really doubles down on this. Yancy Butler begins the episode in a form-fitting red jumpsuit. Later, she appears in just a large T-shirt or a slinky dress. This leads up to an extended love scene. Despite the passion the characters are displaying, the sex is mechanical and un-erotic. Once the two main characters bang, everything interesting about “Given the Heir” goes out the window. There's needless shoot-outs, conflicts suddenly arising, and absolutely one of the dumbest twist endings I've seen recently. About the only thing that engaged me about this one was Paul Williams' cameo in the opening minutes. Otherwise, it's another dud. [4/10]

Halloween 2017: September 23

Clownhouse (1989)

It's impossible to talk about “Clownhouse” without discussing the disturbing case of director Victor Salva. Salva was a promising, young filmmaker snatched up by Francis Ford Copella. He was given a small budget to produce his debut feature, “Clownhouse.” The film received good reviews on the festival circuit. Soon afterwards, however, Salva was convicted of molesting the movie's young star. He even recorded one of the assaults. Salva would be sentenced to three years but only serve fifteen months. Since being released, he's continued to make films, including the successful “Jeepers Creepers” franchise. Knowing this, watching “Clownhouse” becomes an uncomfortable experience. Is it possible to separate the film's merits from the crimes its director perpetrated on its star?

The film concerns three brothers. Casey is the youngest and has an intense phobia of clowns. His older brother, Randy, often torments Casey over this. The middle brother, Geoffrey, is a little more sympathetic. One fateful night, the three brothers are left home alone by their parents. In order to pass the time, Randy and Geoffrey take Casey to the circus. There, the boy has a frightening encounter with a circus clown. Later that night, a group of lunatics escape from a mental institute. They attack and kill the circus clowns, taking their costumes. The maniacs follow Casey back to his house, proceeding to hunt and torment the boys throughout the night.

Looking at “Clownhouse” strictly from an artistic perspective, it's an effective horror film. The film sustains a surprising amount of tension during its first half. After about a half-hour of set-up, we are greeted to long scenes of the clowns stalking their victims. There's a simple trick here that makes these scenes intense. The boys don't know the clowns are near-by. So there's extended moments of the brothers being watched by the clowns, unaware that they're being observed. A really solid scene has the clowns walking down a hallway towards one brother, only for them to vanish again in a blink. Lights blink in the attic, a running clown briefly visible in the background. Later, we spot clowns hiding behind racks of clothes in a closest. Or peering through a slightly ajar door. These are creepy images and “Clownhouse” utilizes them to ratchet up the tension.

These moments of long, sustained tension eventually build towards a frightening release. “Clownhouse” has been referred to as a slasher film but there's little gore in the movie. When the clown attacks happen, the film continues its focus on tension. The clowns never pick up a bladed weapon. One victim has his neck broken, after a theatrical build-up. Another is killed off-screen, his body dropping out of a closest. Otherwise, the attack scenes are devoted to clown's leaping out of doorways and hallways. “Clownhouse” really mines the unnerving quality of the clown for all its worth. I have no fear of clowns but a madly grinning, painting face suddenly peering from the darkness is startling. The attack scenes are fiercely directed, especially in the final act, where Cheezo the Clown has Casey pinned under a table.

“Clownhouse” does have a good cast. Nathan Forrest Winters gives a naturalistic performance as Casey, striking the viewer as a normal kid, overwhelmed by his fears. (Though it's very difficult to judge Winters' performance, knowing what the director did to him.) Brian McHugh is similarly likable as middle brother, Geoffrey. McHugh brings a slightly nerdy edge to the character, making him seem more grounded. Future star Sam Rockwell appears as Randy, the asshole older brother. Randy is unquestionably a bully but Rockwell sneaks in a few hints that he does actually love his younger brothers. The actor Michael Jerome West, credited simply as “Tree” for some reason, is deeply creepy as Cheezo the Clown. Using just his body language, Tree creates an effectively unnerving horror villain.

“Clownhouse” puts me in a really weird place, as a horror fan. On one hand, I want to recommend it as an effectively tense horror/thriller. On the other hand, it's impossible not to feel Victor Salva's pedophilic instincts in the film. Aside from the general plot of young kids being stalked by older men, there's multiple scenes of the three boys in their underwear, changing, or bathing. So I've answered my opening question: It is impossible to separate the film's artistic value from the disgusting acts its filmmaker committed during production. (If you must know, I downloaded a copy off a sketchy streaming site, so at least Salva didn't profit from me watching his movie.) In some alternate universe, where Victor Salva isn't a literal child molester, “Clownhouse” is a pretty good horror flick. In our world, I really don't know how the hell to rate it and will refrain from doing so. [-/10]

The Curse (1987)

I've probably mentioned it before. During my college years, I really got into obscure eighties horror, even more so than before. During that time, Youtube was still pretty new and packed with illegal uploads of all sorts of movies. In our 4K, HD world, it's hard to believe I once watched so many movies in 360 pixels, cut into ten minute segments. However, I found a lot of films I probably never would've seen otherwise this way. Such as “The Curse.” Among the channels I subscribed too, one I trusted so implicitly that I watched everything he uploaded, regardless of whether I had heard of it before. While watching “The Curse” back then, I realized the movie was an adaptation of Lovecraft's “The Colour Out of Space.” The film was also produced by Lucio Fulci and directed by David Keith, of all people. This makes it a uniquely eighties take on Providence's scribe of the strange.

Something has happened on the Crane family farm. In the middle of the night, a meteor crashes into their field. Within the next few days, the strange, glowing stone shrinks until it's nothing. After that, the family's crops begin to flourish. However, the fruit and vegetables are rotten inside. The animals begin to go mad. Soon enough, the family members are infected, slowly changing into half-human monsters. The meteor brought some pathogen from space and it has seeped into the well water. If it's not stopped soon, the entire town may be in trouble.

“The Curse” has been referred to by other writers as “cheesy,” which is not an inaccurate description. Most of the characters in the film are broad redneck stereotypes. The oldest Crane sibling, Cyrus, is an especially ridiculous character. He's a honking, farting, guffawing nincompoop. The majority of the performances are on this level. The various scenes of animals attacking, driven mad by the intergalactic infection, tend to be goofy. A horse attack is especially laughable. Yet, within its goofy atmosphere, “The Curse” occasionally touches upon a seriously gross image. Such as a half-eaten apple full of squirming worms or a tomato spurting a tidal wave of brown slime. One of the nastiest scenes involves a cow rotted from the inside out, rancid flesh and bugs exploding from its body. This stuff is not sophisticated but it's effectively nasty, hitting the viewer in their visceral gut.

Despite making his directorial debut with a down-and-dirty horror film, David Keith's ambitions were pretty high for “The Curse.” The film is not just a portrait of a redneck family, infected by alien pathogens, but actually looks at the entire community. We meet a man who is buying up many of the local farms, selling the property to developers. Francis Crane is cheating on her husband with the hunky farm hand, a subplot that barely comes up. The doctor next door, interested in helping the Cranes, is ostensibly the hero of the film. We also meet a local government official, who is also having an affair. Most of these subplots were probably not necessary, especially considering the film's brief 92 minute run time. However, it does give us a nice view of the surrounding area, making the movie a little more interested than it would've been otherwise.

“The Curse” is more faithful to “The Colour Out of Space” than “Die, Monster, Die!” was. The farm setting, backwoods half-wits, the meteor shrinking into nothingness, and giant but rotted vegetables are maintained. Most of the author's cosmic elements are ditched, such as the intelligent alien color beyond human comprehension. However, “The Curse” does touch upon some of H.P.'s themes, in an odd way. Nathan Crane is a religious fanatic, often praising God and cursing his family to damnation. When the curse befalls their animals and crops, Nathan initially blames his children for bringing this on them. Later, he decides this must be God's will. Yet the effects of the meteor are clearly a science-fiction threat, disconnected from religion. “The Curse,” if it was less trashy, could've been a story about Christian fanaticism meeting Lovecraftian horror.

The cast is pretty hammy, all things considered. The effects are not the best, the Crane family turning into pasty-faced ghouls. The ending goes on way too long, the movie attempting to wrap up too many subplots in too little time. Still, I sort of liked “The Curse.” Weirdly, the movie would spawn three in-name-only sequels. I've seen the second, “Curse II: The Bite,” which involves snakes, more body horror, Jill Schoelen, and something about an Amish family. I haven't seen the others, none of which are discussed much. The original is sort of worth seeing though, as a grimy and slightly dumb take on one of Lovecraft's best stories. [6/10]

Masters of Horror: Sounds Like

As I said yesterday, I found most of the new additions during “Masters of Horror” season two to be questionable masters, at best. Yet I soundly approved of one name. After the terrifying “Session 9” and the effectively grim “The Machinist,” Brad Anderson seemed to earn that title. (Disappointingly, Anderson's subsequent genre work has been very forgettable.) Anderson would direct “Sounds Like.” The episode concerns Larry Pearce, a man with hypersensitive hearing. Usually he can ignore this troubling ability. Sometimes, like at his job as an call monitor at an I.T. call center, it even comes in handy. However, Pearce is still haunted by the death of his young son. In-between his inconsiderate wife and stressful job, Pearce's super-hearing goes into overdrive. Soon after that, his grip on sanity starts to slip.

Compared to most “Masters of Horror” episodes, which tend to focus on gory special effects, “Sounds Like” is a more psychological episode. There's very little violence and most of the horrifying stuff happens inside the main character's head. (Or ear canals, as it were.) It's primarily a character study of a man grappling with grief. Larry refuses to let his wife re-paint their dead son's bedroom, leaving it the way it was when the boy died. When the same wife suspect she's pregnant, Larry is offended that she would ever want to replace their deceased son. He frequently visits the boy's grave, fondly recalling their trips to a local lake to race toy boats. In one scene, he speaks to a younger co-worker, imagining the man as his little boy. In fact, “Sounds Like's” depiction of grief is so raw, that it's almost difficult to watch. Chris Bauer's performance rotates between quiet disconnection and fiery rage. Without going for melodrama, the film solemnly depicts the boy's dying days and Larry's inability to move on.

The super-hearing aspect of the story may seem disconnected from this element. Yet “Sounds Like” incorporates Larry's overly sensitive hearing as a measuring stick for his stress level. When he's dealing with things, his hearing is normal, peaceful even. When emotions start to boil over, the slightest sound can be insufferable. “Sound Like” does a great job of making noise unnerving. Raindrops on a windshield sound like bombs falling. A sleeping person's eyeball, fluttering against their closed eyelid, makes a disgusting squishing noise. A buzzing fly on a window sounds like a hurricane. Eventually, Larry can't even hear speech anymore, people's words obscured by the sound of their tongues swishing in their saliva. If you're sometimes sensitive to noise, “Sounds Like” is a very effective horror movie. It successfully makes the somewhat benign premise of “super hearing” into a nightmarish situation. This, combined with its strong emotional content, makes it easily one of the series' best episodes. [9/10]

Perversions of Science: The Exile

“Perversions of Science” finally starts to pick up some in its fourth episode. “The Exile” begins in some far-flung future society where most crime has been eliminated. This seemingly utopian world is interrupted by a sadistic serial killer, a would-be scientist obsess with racial purity. He is caught and imprisoned. Since the death penalty has been outlawed, the authorities attempt to reprogram him. The warden, Dr. Nordoff, becomes especially interested in the mad killer. Despite their best efforts, the man's violent and obsessive tendencies remain unchanged. The authorities decide to exile him instead.

“The Exile” has a better pedigree than most “Perversions of Science” episodes. Splatterpunk pioneer David J. Schow wrote the script while William Malone directs. Malone's somewhat obnoxious visual style is restrained, save for one colorful nightmare. Instead, the episode is mostly about three cult icons hamming it up delightfully. Jeffrey Combs plays the serial killer. He's in full-on Herbert West mode when ranting at his victims. When playing off other actors, Combs' enjoyably plays up his nihilistic side. He swears, sweats, and makes being a huge asshole look very amusing. David Warner plays Dr. Nordoff as a cold, authoritarian voice. This makes him an ideal foil to the blustering Combs. Watching Warner grow more tired of his bullshit is great. Lastly, Ron Perlman appears as Combs' cell mate, a coldly practical criminal. The ending is utterly ridiculous and borderline offensive but, I'll admit, it totally caught me off-guard. “The Exile” is, thus far, the best episode of this series. [7/10]

Halloween 2017: September 22

The Dunwich Horror (1970)

American International Pictures made at least seven films based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe, more if you count the films that took Poe's titles and attached them to unrelated stories. The studio's attempt to launch a long-running series of H.P. Lovecraft adaptations was less successful. Their effort would produce only three adaptations over the course of eight years. The final Lovecraft film from the studio was 1970's “The Dunwich Horror.” Director Daniel Heller would return from “Die, Monster, Die!” The result is one of the weirder Lovecraft movies, coming at a time when the horror genre – and A.I.P's approach to it – was changing.

Inside the library at Miskatonic University, located in Arkham, Massachusetts, resides the Necronomicon. The notorious tome supposedly contains spells and rites that can summon the Old Ones – ancient gods who ruled Earth before man – back to our level of reality. Wilbur Whateley has a particular interest in the book. His family has a long history of witchcraft. Wilbur's grandfather was a warlock, lynched by angry villagers. His father claims Wilbur has a brother, though no evidence exists of this. Local college student, Nancy Wagner, is strangely attracted to Wilbur. After stealing the Necronomicon, Whateley seduces Nancy into his cult, ready to return Yog-Sothoth back to Earth.

Though based on a story written in 1928, “The Dunwich Horror” was clearly inspired by “Rosemary's Baby.” Lovecraft's Old Ones are name-dropped frequently, with Yog-Sothoth being mentioned probably a hundred times. Yet the tone is explicitly sacrilegious, pointing out how the Old Ones are pagan deities, summoned by occult rituals. Pregnancy is a reoccurring image. The movie begins with a strange birth, the opening credits feature weird baby imagery, and then ends with a demonic conception. Satanism isn't the only trendy topic incorporated into the story. 1970's “The Dunwich Horror” is heavy on psychedelic shenanigans. Nancy has visions of hairy, naked hippies attacking her. Trippy colors and quick cuts appear throughout. The movie is characterized by an off-center, slightly dreamy tone. It's an odd approach to Lovecraft but one that works well. “The Dunwich Horror” is certainly memorable.

Adding to this late sixties atmosphere are the clearly stoned performances. Dean Stockwell, not quite recognizable with a beard and long hair, plays Wilbur Whateley. The cinematic Whateley lacks the literary Wilbur's chimerical physique but is no less weird. Stockwell states most of his dialogue in a flat monotone. He spent the entire movie starring with wide, wild eyes. It's an odd, off-putting performance that kind of works, given the character. What doesn't work is Nancy's inexplicable attraction to Wilbur. Why a normal girl like her would be interested in an obvious weirdo like Wilbur is mysterious. Sandra Dee is fine in the part but the character is often a non-entity, reduced into a passive role for most of the story.

Like I said, Lovecraft and psychedelia doesn't seem like an ideal combination but “The Dunwich Horror” ends up making it work. Mostly when it comes to the titular horror, Wilbur's locked-up brother. The glimpse we get of the monster are unimpressive, appearing to be a pulsating beach ball covered with rubber snakes. Instead of directly showing the monster, the film often takes the creature's perspective. Shifting, searing colors overtake the movie. People flee in terror from the unseen threat, its presence affecting the area around them. It's a surprisingly effective, if somewhat campy, way to depict Lovecraft's indescribable monstrosity on-screen. The movie's other explicit horror elements – Sandra Dee strapped to a stone altar, Stockwell shooting lightening from his magic rings – are equally campy but also fun in their own way.

Another element I like about “The Dunwich Horror” is Les Baxter's spooky score. Baxter combines a memorable melody, sparse but clear, with mounting electronic noise. The first time I saw “The Dunwich Horror,” on TV and late at night, I found it somewhat creepy but also slightly off-putting. I've seen it a few other times, liking it more every time. The campy elements are still evident, such as a goofy fight scene Stockwell has with a guard as Miskatonic University. However, this stuff is more appealing to me now. Though far from an ideal adaptation, it's a fun horror picture in its own right. Another adaptation came in 2009, which starred Jeffrey Combs and... Dean Stockwell. I wonder if it's worth seeing? [7/10]

Blood Harvest (1987)

Like many other nerds, I became a fan of “Weird Al” Yankovic at a young age. As a teenager, I explored beyond Yankovic into further avenues of weird music. I discovered the perverse songs of Barnes & Barnes, the insane rantings of Wild Man Fischer, and the peculiar stylings of Tiny Tim. Born Herbert Khaury, Tiny Tim is best known for his ukulele-assisted novelty hit “Tiptope Through the Tulips” and his stunt marriage to Miss Vicki on the Tonight Show. However, Tim's deeper discography shows a phenomenal vocal range and a surreal sense of humor. And if you doubt his commitment to his craft, consider that he died on stage. Anyway, Tim brought his unique abilities to a handful of films. His only lead role, however, was the 1987 horror film, “Blood Harvest.”

“Blood Harvest” revolves around Jill. After spending some time at college, and gaining a fiance while there, she is returning home. Her family is controversial in her home town, as they own the bank responsible for a number of local farms being forced to foreclose. Back home, Jill is reunited with an old childhood friend. Gary lost his parents at a young age, forcing him to take care of his mentally ill older brother, Mervin. Mervin has a child-like worldview and likes to dress up as a clown, calling himself the Magnificent Mervo. Soon afterwards, friends of Jill's begin to disappear. Is Mervo, the lovelorn Gary, or someone else to blame for the murders?

“Blood Harvest” is likely to be enjoyed by two audiences: Fans of scraping-the-bottom-of-the-barrel eighties horror and hardcore Tiny Tim aficionados. The latter audience is likely to get the most out of “Blood Harvest.” Whenever Tim is on-screen, the movie is taken over by a strange, unnerving energy. As the Magnificent Mervo, Tiny Tim is genuinely unsettling. He's perfectly cast as an off-putting man-child, prone to sitting on porch swings at night and appearing outside windows suddenly. The sight of Tim's wide, weird face, smeared with grease-paint, is probably unsettling enough for most people. Add him slobbering through the Lord's prayer and crying over pictures of dead pigs for further creep factor. It seems to me that Tim is just playing a greasier, clown-ier version of himself.  Which just happens to translate to a slightly sympathetic and really freaky horror character.

Aside from Tiny Tim's unique screen presence, not a whole lot else happens in “Blood Harvest.” There's attempt to pad the movie out with various subplots, such as a group of paintballers in the woods or the locals being angry at Jill's family. All of these storylines vanish by the half-way point. Instead, most of the film is devoted to leading lady Itonia Salchek – this is her only film appearance – lounging around the house. About a third of the film takes place on her bed, to the point where her teddy bear and the “Commando” poster on the wall probably deserve credits. Salchek is either nude or in her underwear for many of her scenes. This is one component of the film's sleazy elements. There's also some heavy petting, some light bondage, and an attempted rape scene.

“Blood Harvest” was directed by Bill Rebane, previously of “The Giant Spider Invasion” and “Monster-a-Go-Go.” The film is slightly more competent than those garbage classics but not by much. “Blood Harvest's” attempts at being a slasher film are fairly anemic. There are no real kill scenes. The killer abducts his victims, strings them up in the barn, and slashes their throats. This happens repeatedly, so there's no novel murder scenes. What gore we do see is watery and unconvincing. The film's climax involves the identities and motivations being revealed, none of them surprising. The showdown between the heroine and the killer goes on too long before deflating suddenly.

“Blood Harvest” is plenty trashy but doesn't deliver the kind of trashy thrills you might be expecting. No, the movie does not feature Tiny Tim murdering teenagers while wearing slimy clown make-up. There's actually very little killer clown action in “Blood Harvest.” The movie remains a Wisconsin-produced oddity, equal parts tedious and sleazy. The version on the DVD is supposedly the director's cut, featuring the similarly uninspired title of “Nightmare,” but I doubt some great creative vision was stymied by producers. Whatever you call the film, it's occasionally inspired insanity but is mostly a bore. [4/10]

Masters of Horror: The V Word

One of the reasons “Masters of Horror: Season Two” disappointed me was the new directors brought onto the series. Referring to some of these guys as “masters” strained believably. Such as Ernest Dickerson. Sure, “Demon Knight” and “Bones” are fun but I wouldn't call them masterpieces. Anyway, “The V Word” follows two teenage boys: Justin and Kerry. Justin is feuding with his dad, who recently left his mother and little sister for another woman. Bored, the two decide to sneak into the local funeral home to look at the body of a dead classmate. What they find instead is Mr. Chaney, a predatory vampire who preys on teenage boys. Both Justin and Kerry are bitten, transforming into vampires, forced to deal with their new attributes.

When first watching it, I found “The V Word” to be mediocre. On second viewing, it holds up better. The first half of the episode is devoted to the teens exploring the funeral home. There's not much to this but it works well, boiling with a quiet tension and some shadowy atmosphere. When the vampire stuff appears, Dickerson throws in some effectively grisly gore. These vampires don't leave two discreet holes. Instead, they tear people's throats out. Upon awakening as a vampire, Kerry attempts to drink water, the liquid spilling out of his neck. The young cast, Arjay Smith as Kerry and Branden Nadon as Justin, have an amusingly bro-tastic chemistry. Michael Ironside is fittingly sinister as Mr. Chaney, even if his status as a sexual predator is barely commented on.

Sadly, the second half of “The V Word” is less interesting. After the boys are bitten, the episode focuses on their transformation into vampires. Justin's mom doesn't notice how odd he's acting. He wanders around in a daze. Kerry forces a conflict between Justin as his dad, which plays out in a deeply anti-climatic fashion. By the time we get to the confrontation with Mr. Chaney, “The V Word” is focusing on standard heroics. One of the boys even dies heroically in a Christ pose. That's another example of how “The V Word's” references are a little too on the nose. Dickerson piles on some obvious classic horror throwbacks: Mr. Chaney's name, a “Nosferatu”-style shadow, an appearance from Bela Lugosi, a direct quotation of “Dracula.” It's all too on the nose. So “The V Word” was very nearly a decent hour but doesn't quite hit the mark. [5/10]

Perversions of Science: Boxed In

This is not my first attempt to watch “Perversions of Science.” Several years back, after finding all the episodes on the internet, I decided to give the show a shot. After “Boxed In,” I gave up on that endeavor. The episode begins on a dilapidated space cruiser. There's only two inhabitants: A decorated war veteran and Emmy, a horny sex robot he won in a card game. The pilot is faithful to his fiance back on Earth though, resisting the sex-droid's frequent advances. After the war is over, he returns to Earth and reunites with his fiance. However, her controlling Admiral father has outfitted her with a high-tech chastity belt. Sexually frustrated beyond belief, the pilot takes Emmy up on her offers. Naturally, something goes wrong.

“Boxed In” is a truly dire sci-fi sex farce. The central gag occurs midway through. After finally deciding to have sex with Emmy, the robot shuts down out of jealousy over the unnamed pilot's fiance. The man is still, um, inside her when this happens. Meaning he has a naked female torso attached to his crotch. This leads to some sigh-inducing slap stick. Misogyny runs through this one, in-between the bitchy sex droid (a woman who is literally an object and frequently reduced to pieces) and the brainless fiance. The gags are simply too stupid to entertain. The episode features pathetic special effects too, as Emmy continues to talk after being decapitated thanks to lousy digital effects. Kevin Polalck tries to get laughs in the lead but it's no use. William Shater directed this, casts himself as the hammy admiral, features his daughter as the fiance, and references “Star Trek” in the opening minutes. I'm hoping this is the low point of “Perversions of Science” and not the precedence for the rest of the series. [3/10]

Halloween 2017: September 21

IT (2017)

A new cinematic version of Stephen King's “IT” has been floated – if you'll excuse the pun – for quite a while now. In 2009, right off the success of season one of “True Detective,” Cary Fukunaga was going to direct a two-part adaptation of the story. Unlike most other two-part book-to-movie deals, this one made sense. King's book is notoriously long and takes place over two time periods anyway. Kukunaga would eventually exit the project, which is one reason why it's taken until 2017 for this movie to get made. “Mama's” Andres Muschietti would direct the film instead. The new “IT” would quickly become the horror event of the Halloween season. People have flocked to “IT” in droves, making the film one of the biggest in the genre ever. I had doubts though. The trailer made the new movie look like a collection jump scares, that hammered the creepy clown note way too hard. So how does “IT” stand up?

The new “IT” updates the setting. Now, the year is 1989. The story is still set in the town of Derry, Maine. The city is gripped by a killing spree targeting children, seemingly centered around the sewer system. The latest victim is Georgie Denbrough. His older brother, Bill who has a stutter, is traumatized by Georgie's death. In his grief, Bill quickly gathers a new group of friends. They're all outcasts and affectionately name themselves the Losers Club. Together, they realize they've all seen weird stuff. In particular, they've all encountered a frightening clown. Soon, the Losers Club make plans to fight against It.

After finishing reading the book a few days before seeing the new movie, I wondered if any cinematic adaptation could do King's tome justice. King covers the entire history of Derry, provides extensive backstories for all the main characters (including the titular entity), and eventually extends into cosmic territory, pass the edges of the macroverse.  Muschietti's film ultimately does what an adaptation is supposed to do. It's more faithful to the book's spirit than its actual plot. Much of the narrative mechanics are different. However, the key events – the apocalyptic rock fight, the house on Neibolt street, the blood in Beverly's drain – are maintained. The film covers Derry's extensive history better than the 1990 television film did. Many elements are changed but 2017's “IT” nails the important stuff. You get a sense of the town, of who the Losers are, and the enormity of the evil they're up against.

Helping matters greatly is the exceptional cast. Each actor playing the Losers is perfectly cast. They're all so good that it's hard to pick a favorite. Jaeden Lieberher captures Bill Denbourgh's personality, showing the vulnerability his stutter causes but the innate leadership skills the other see in him. Jeremy Ray Taylor is great as Ben Hanscom, showing the big boy's intelligence without underselling his loner status. Jack Dylan Grazer expands past Eddie Kaspbrak's hypochondria to create a more active character. If I had to pick a favorite, it would probably come down to Sophia Lillis as Beverly or Finn Wolfhard as Richie. Lillis nails the tough resourcefulness central to Beverly Marsh's personality, while hinting at the girlishness that makes the young boys love her. Wolfhard, meanwhile, is hilarious as Richie Tozier. Wolfhard's Richie gets off a lot of good ones, capturing the character's smart ass appeal that covers a greater vulnerability.

The new film's cast is a hands-down improvement over the 1990 version in every department except for one. Bill Skarsgard is good as our new Pennywise the Dancing Clown. He's suitably creepy while capturing the utter joy It feels at frightening children. He's just not as good as Tim Curry was. Curry was so delightfully wicked in the part. Skarsgard, meanwhile, plays it a little straighter. He also relies on the overdone creepy clown make-up a little too much. I still find some of the design choices a little confusing. The turn-of-the-century clothes make sense in story but look odd in execution. I also think the new Pennywise is too outwardly creepy, negating the disguise's point as one meant to attract kids.

The trailers made me fear that the new “IT” would lean too heavily on jump scares. Muschietti's film does feature many of the marks of modern studio horror. It has that slick but dusty look. There's quite a lot of CGI and not all it incorporated organically. Muschietti's direction is a bit too mannered at time, incorporating distracting dutch angles and other tricks. And, yes, they're are plenty of jump scares. However, “IT” is a surprisingly fun horror movie. The scares scenes are sudden and go for the throat. They're also balanced with a lot of humor and heart. The “kids on an adventure” feeling the book featured is nicely represented in this adaptation, blending well with the more overtly scary moments. After watching “IT,” I felt the same way I do when stepping out of a good carnival funhouse. Elated but excited, creeped out but comfortable.

I do have a few complaints about the film. Out of the seven Losers, Wyatt Oleff's Stanley and Chosen Jacobs' Mike get the short end of the stick. Jacobs' Mike gets it the worst, as his defining characteristic in the book is transferred to another character. My biggest issue concerns a decision made in the last act. Beverly, one of the film's strongest characters up to that point, is reduced to a damsel in distress. Overall, the climax is a bit underwhelming, the initial defeat of Pennywise happening a little too easily in the new film. Most of my other complaints boil down to nitpicks. I wish the Barrens, a huge part of the book, played a larger role in the film. The classic horror references in the book are gone, which makes sense given the shift in setting. But I still sort of miss them.

Still, the new “IT” turned out really well. It's a smooth adaptation with a fantastic cast. Moreover, I was surprised at how fun this particular horror picture turned out to be. During a time when the horror genre veers towards the grim, I certainly didn't expect a glossy studio picture – about a child-eating monster, no less – to be this fleet-footed and entertaining. “IT” concludes with a title screen declaring itself “Chapter One,” essentially promising chapter two. Considering the huge box office, that's sure to come. Hopefully, the filmmakers intentionally saved the book's more far-out material for the second movie, which I am now actually pretty hyped for. [7/10]

The Shuttered Room (1967)

“The Shuttered Room” is usually included on any list of H.P. Lovecraft adaptations. However, that's a bit of a cheat. The short story of the same name was actually written by August Derleth. Derleth was a pen pal and frequent collaborator of Lovecraft's. As his literary executor, Derleth can be thanked for keeping Lovecraft's work in print. Yet Derleth has also been criticized for making his own contributions to H.P.'s cosmology. He wrote “The Shuttered Room” based on notes by Lovecraft but most consider the story 100% Derleth. Despite that, Lovecraft's name is frequently attached to this film, hence its coverage here.

As a child, Susannah Kelton grew up on the island of Dunwich, in the New England countryside. Her family moved away when she was young. Now, after marrying a man much older than her, Susannah has been invited back to the island. A recently dead aunt has left the family mill in her position. Susannah and her husband, Mike, find they are unwelcomed here. The locals are hostile, attacking Mike and sexually harnessing Susannah. Meanwhile, it soon becomes apparent to Susannah that the family mill hides a dark secret. How does the shuttered room in the building's attic connect to her traumatic childhood memories?

The first thing I noticed about “The Shuttered Room” is how it sounds. Basil Kirchin provides the film with an eclectic jazz soundtrack. Many of the film's scenes are scored to frantic drumming and hot saxophones. This is an odd choice for a horror movie, often robbing scenes of potential tension and irritating the audience. It's not the only annoying thing about the movie. The sound design is equally shrill. The movie's soundscape is full of continuously blaring car horns, shrill shrieks, and obnoxious shouting. This ear-rending sound mixes with content that is often cheesy. In-between the exaggerated  redneck villains and Gig Young's tendency towards using karate chops, the audience is more likely to laugh than scream.

In fact, depraved backwoods shenanigans makes up too much of “The Shuttered Room.” If it wasn't released four years earlier, I would accuse it of ripping off “Straw Dogs.” Both films focus on city folk being menaced in the country side. In both, the wife is constantly sexually harassed by one man in particular. Oliver Reed hams it up as Ethan, the central villain. In one scene, he literally licks Susan's ear. Reed's performance drips with danger. Yet the movie is weirdly guarded with its subject matter. For every scene of Reed nearly raping Susannah, we get another scene of goofy rednecks throwing nets on people. (There's another connection of sorts between the films. “Straw Dogs” is set in the English countryside. “The Shuttered Room” is set in Lovecraft's Dunwich. However, the movie was shot in England, with many of the actors playing the country folk being English, putting on American accents.)

Lovecraft's writings are full of inbred hillbillies, communing with sinister forces from beyond. Yet “The Shuttered Room” ends up barely feeling like a Lovecraft story. Derleth's text included explicit connections to Lovecraft's mythology, such a half-human frog-monster locked in the attic. The cinematic “Shuttered Room” ditches all of this stuff. Instead, the titular room includes an insane, slightly deformed but otherwise very human prisoner. It's easy to predict the connection Susannah has to this person. That “The Shuttered Room” saves this reveal for the final act makes much of the movie feel like tedious waiting. When the door is finally opened, and the monster released, you're left wondering if that's it. The blunt conclusion that follows does nothing to resolve this dissatisfaction.

So that's why “The Shuttered Room” is rarely discussed when talking about beloved Lovecraft adaptations. Normally, I'd say the filmmakers wanted to make a different kind of story and attached a popular author to the movie in hopes of boosting its profile. Yet was Lovecraft really that big a name in 1967? I doubt it, which makes the reasons why “The Shuttered Room” turned out how it did deeply mysterious. Why bother adapting this story if you were going to remove all the cool parts? Reed's performance is disturbingly sleazy but, otherwise, there's little reason to check out this annoying and boring backwoods thriller. [5/10]

Masters of Horror: Family

During season one of “Masters of Horror,” John Landis might have seemed a little out of place, having directed only two or three horror movies. Yet his episode, “Deer Woman,” proved to be a season highlight. So I eagerly anticipated his next installment, “Family.” The episode follows Harold. He's a happy family man, with a wife and young daughter, living in the suburbs. But there's a problem: Harold's family is dead. He's actually a serial killer, who strips his victims' bodies down to the bones, propping up their skeletons and imagining personalities for them. Harold finds himself fascinated with his new neighbors, a young married couple. His perfect family is broken up as Harold becomes obsessed with Cecelia, the wife. But all is not as it seems.

As a peek into an especially whimsical serial killer's head, “Family” works pretty well. Harold kills not out of twisted sexual desires (though there's a little of that) or because voices tell him to. (Though there's a little of that too.) Instead, he kills to preserve a sense of internal normalcy. His fake family makes him happy. It gives him a wife that understands him, a daughter that looks up to him, and parents that advise him. It's a weirdly comfy world, even if its full of skeletons reading the Weekly World News. The audience is oddly on Harold's side, as he stalks his neighbors, plotting to kill them both. Watching his perfect inner life fall apart, developing strife with his skeleton wife, is oddly effecting. You feel bad for this guy, even if he's an unrepentant killer. George Wendt's performance is perfect for this, as his jolly appearance hides the character's sinister intentions.

Other elements of “Family” don't work as well. The graphic gore – bodies dissolving in acid, a face split by a hammer – feel mean-spirited, at odds with the quasi-comic tone. The twist ending is easy to predict. In fact, the scenes involving the neighbors drag the episode down a bit. It's not the performers' fault, as Meredith Monroe and Matt “The Middleman” Keeslar, are fine in the parts. Landis' directorial flourishes, which include a CGI zoom into a larynx, are distracting. Still, “Family” is a solid hour. It probably would've stretch the material a little thin but “Family” could've supported a feature length run time. Wendt's performance is fantastic and Harold's worldview, antisocial as it might be, is fascinating. [7/10]

Perversions of Science: Anatomy Lesson

“Perversions of Science's” second episode, “Anatomy Lesson,” is another story that is equal parts horror and sci-fi. The episode follows Billy, the son of the town coroner. His father frequently examines the bodies of a local serial killer's victims. (The victims are mostly criminals and scumbags.) Soon, Billy develops a fascination with dead bodies, deriving sexual satisfaction from cutting living flesh. He mostly preys on animals but is eager to move on to people. He seemingly gets his chance when a hot date is interrupted by a homeless man, someone Billy has encounter from time to time. However, the hunter quickly becomes the hunted.

As an examination of a young psychopath, slowly getting to know his desire for murder, “Anatomy Lesson” is mildly captivating. Jeremy London's performance is solid, as he shows no attempt to make this nasty character likable. The script clearly links his sex drive with his murder drive, without overexplaining things. The last minute shift into hard sci-fi, involving robot vigilantes and alien overlords, is sudden. A major character's true identity is revealed in a corny way. References to other historical serial killer are heavy handed. The special effects are underwhelming, involving a robot that is clearly a puppet and a giant CGI flying saucer. “Anatomy Lesson” ultimately feels like two stories, a gritty tale about a budding serial killer and a sci-fi story about aliens policing Earth, awkwardly fused together. Chrome's puns are a little better this time, as they actually relate to the story and aren't just thoughtlessly sexual. [6/10]