Halloween 2019: October 27th

Willard (1971)

In many ways, “Willard” seems like a genuine Forgotbuster. Released in summer of 1971 – back before summer was the destination for big budget blockbusters – the film became a surprise hit. The significant box office success of this killer rat thriller led to the animal horror wave of the seventies, spawning “Jaws” and indirectly changing Hollywood cinema forever. Despite that, “Willard” didn't seem to make much of a lasting impression on pop culture. The original film was unavailable on DVD for a very long time, only receiving a proper release a few years back. That certainly contributed to this movie, once a mainstream success, being forgotten by the general public.

Willard Stiles is 27 years old. He lives with his melodramatic, domineering mother in the crumbling home she bought with his late father. At his office job, he's frequently humiliated by Mr. Martin, his boss and his father's former partner. Willard is meek, pushed around, and lonely. One day, his mother instructs him to kill the rats living in the backyard. Instead, he takes pity on the animals and befriends them. He starts to train the rats and forms a special bond with a little white rat that he names Socrates. Also among the rodents is another intelligent rat named Ben. Willard uses the rats to take petty revenge on his tormentors but, after Mr. Martin kills Socrates, the young man's fury turns murderous.

“Willard” might've terrified audiences in 1971 but it comes across as hokey today. Many of the characters are exaggerated figures. Willard's mother is not the bitter old woman she was in “Ratman's Notebooks,” Stephen Gilbert's source novel, but a goofy drama queen who manipulates her son in obvious ways. She constantly invites her equally old friends over, Aunt Charlotte being even more obnoxiously histrionic. Alex North's musical score is unusually prosaic. A scene where Willard sics his rats on Mr. Martin's birthday party is more humorous than scary, the mere appearance of the rats driving the guests into a frenzy. When Willard finally takes his revenge on Martin, the tension is somewhat undermined by rats falling down on Ernest Borgnine in such a way that you know, just off-screen, some P.A. was throwing them at him. It's only during the very end, when Ben turns the tables on Willard, that Daniel Mann's direction gets sufficiently moody.

While more-or-less failing as a horror movie, “Willard” is more interesting as a study of outsiderdom. Pathetic, frustrated Willard is belittled by life. The film makes him more sympathetic than the unnamed protagonist of Gilbert's book, who does many bad deeds. Yet once Willard receives a degree of power, with a huge colony of rats depending on him, he abuses it. With the exception of Socrates, Ben and all the other rats are excluded from his house, confined to the dark cellar. A pivotal scene has him yelling in anger at the rodent filled basement. He even picks Ben up and tosses him away, at one point. If the toxicity of modern nerd culture has taught us anything, it's that those who have been excluded their whole lives are eager to start excluding others. When Ben takes his bloody revenge, it's the cycle of abuse starting anew.

The film is, if nothing else, well acted. Bruce Davidson is compelling as Willard. When he has to play off his mother's smothering or his boss' condescension, you really feel for the guy. The genuine joy he feels when playing with his rats is equally apparent. His agony at Socrates' death, and the righteous fury he delivers back at Martin, are well conveyed. As Martin, Ernest Borgnine is perfectly hateable as the bullying boss. The scene where he unexpectedly drops a homophobic slur is especially effective. Sandra Locke appears as the office girl Willard forms a romance with. I wish that subplot was more fully formed, as Locke is inexplicably attracted to Willard but the actress is charming. Elsa Lanchester is grotesquely over-the-top though as Willard's mom.

It's easy to assume “Willard's” box office success has to do with the public's intense musophobia. Admittedly, just seeing a bunch of rats would be enough to make some people intensely uncomfortable. This was long before the rise of the “fancy rat,” where rats are considered perfectly acceptable pets. (Roger Ebert suggested the public just really wanted to see Ernest Borgoine attacked by rats.) While not exactly a bad film, “Willard” is far too campy and overwrought in its emotions to be especially effective. Superior films about outsiders striking back at society would follow and better killer animal flicks would arise in its wake too. [6/10]

Candy Corn (2019)

Aside from reboots of long running franchise or the occasional odd exception like “Hell Fest,” slasher movies don't show up in your big box theater chains anymore. However, the slasher film has been going through something of a revival in the independent horror scene. Last year we had several notable releases and now, this year, our Halloween season has been gifted with three brand new slasher movies based around the holiday. The first, and most low-key, of these productions is “Candy Corn.” I recall the film's crowdfunding campaign receiving some minor buzz and was happy to see it arrive just in time for the Halloween season to kick off earlier this year. And now we're at the end of the October and I'm finally watching it.

Set in the early eighties in the small town of Grove Hill, Ohio, “Candy Corn” centers on a group of recent high school graduates. Led by psychotic bully Mike, the group of friends celebrate Halloween every year by viciously attacking Jacob Atkins, a mentally ill boy. This year, Jacob has gotten a job at a traveling carnival, working under freak show leader Dr. Death. Before he can leave town, Jacob is beaten to death by Mike. Disgusted by the act of violence, Dr. Death uses dark magic to resurrect Jacob as a supernatural entity on Halloween Eve. Wearing a rotten pumpkin mask, the newly empowered Jacob seeks revenge on those that wronged him. 

When I was in high school, the very first attempt at a screenplay I ever wrote was about a bullied teenager being murdered by his tormentors and coming back to life to deliver bloody vindication. I think every weird kid into horror probably imagined a similar scenario. “Candy Corn” reminds me a lot of that script, though it's a lot more polished than my deranged, half-scribbled first attempt at screenwriting. A problem with this premise is its hard to be too invested in a group of juvenile delinquents that enjoy hazing a sad loner. The victims in “Candy Corn” range from obnoxious – like the cartoonish evil leader or the adult sleazeball who hangs out with them – to total non-entities. The film tries to make the token girlfriend in the clique remorseful, as she feels bad about what happens and tries to tell the cops, but she never attempts to actually stop the brutal beating. Hard to be too sympathetic to her. Further not helping matters is that most of the acting is stiff or overdone.

Normally, when telling these types of stories, filmmakers will develop the outsider into a fully-formed character, so the audience relates to their strife and finds the eventual revenge cathartic. “Candy Corn,” weirdly, doesn't do that. Jacob Atkins is barely a character at all. He's introduced eating the titular treat - the only role it plays in the film, by the way - out of a Halloween pail while watching a static-screened TV. He doesn't have any dialogue. Jacob is clearly mentally ill and I think we're suppose to be freaked out by that, since the local sheriff discovers the horrible secret in his house. So are we suppose to cheer on Jacob's retaliation or be afraid of him? It's hard to know because the killer has no personality. The film instead builds up the carnival performers as these mythic defenders of “outsiders.” That doesn't really work either, since Dr. Death is the only one developed much and his actions are rather cartonish.

So does “Candy Corn” have anything going for it? Well, writer/director John Hasty – a protegee of Rob Zombie – does capture that dreary, late October feeling several times. (He also dips his toes into Zombie-esque grotesquery, by making us privy to one guy's masturbatory fantasies.) Shots of the sideshow performers going on-stage for an empty audience have a sense of mid-western isolation I like. However, Hasty's direction is also melodramatic. He employs too much slow-motion. The attack scenes are all awkwardly framed, weirdly focusing on the squirming victims and not the special effects. Maybe that's because the film didn't have much of a budget for gore. The death scenes usually amount to uninspired ripping and gouging, with most of the red stuff showing up afterwards. There's even some embarrassingly bad CGI blood. You'd think a film so clearly indebted to seventies and eighties slasher flicks would know better than to do that.

The film is peppered with homages to “Halloween.” Such as in the on-screen font, the low-key synth score, or Hasty putting his name above the title. The cast includes convention regulars like P.J. Soles, who wears a ridiculous wig and plays a very Lucy-from-”Twin-Peaks” style police secretary, and Tony Todd, who does nothing but brood silently in the back of several scenes. Going into “Candy Corn,” and knowing how micro-budget horror flicks like this usually turn out, I didn't have high expectations. However, the film has won some positive reviews. I'm glad some folks were able to get something out of the film but, sadly, I wasn't so receptive. It's a nice try, and I think Hasty next film will be better, but “Candy Corn” is mostly empty calories. [5/10]

Goosebumps: The Haunted Mask

If you were a kid horror fan in the nineties, you were definitely exposed to “Goosebumps.” The Y.A. horror anthology books, cranked out via a tried-and-true formula monthly by R.L. Stine, were a full-blown kiddie phenomenon during the decade of my youth. I was a fan, of sorts. I loved Tim Jacobus' vivid, grotesque cover art but, even as a kid, I found the actual stories to be rather campy. I felt much the same about the TV show adaptation, which ran on Fox Kids at the peak of the books' popularity. Yet I watched practically every episode and happily ate up the merchandise, because I was always hungry for spooky bullshit. Fox frequently treated the series as an event, debuting several episodes in prime time. Including the forty-minute series premiere, “The Haunted Mask,” which just happens to be set on Halloween.

“The Haunted Mask” follows Carly-Beth, an easily frightened ten year old girl. As Halloween approaches, Carly-Beth gets increasingly fed up with the taunting and pranks from bullies Chuck and Steve. Tearing up the cutesy duck costume her mom made her, she instead seeks out a spooky mask shop that has popped up in town overnight. Despite the objections from the shop owner, she buys a spooky, green-skinned ghoul mask. Upon wearing the mask, Carly-Beth's behavior becomes more mischievous and unhinged. She goes around on Halloween night, scaring other kids, including Chuck and Steve. But then she finds she can't remove the mask, that a malevolent persona seems to be overtaking her own.

Undeniably, “The Haunted Mask” is campy bullshit. The acting is ridiculous, most notably from the young kids. The special effects are unimpressive, especially anytime the masks come to life. The writing is highly compressed and overwrought, the emotions being oversized for the youthful audience. The show was produced in Canada and this is obvious every time someone says “sorry.” R. L. Stine, with his droll voice and distinctive forehead mole, appears as host in a very silly wrap-around segment. The writer claims his books don't contain moral lessons but “The Haunted Mask” is obviously trying to teach kids about self-worth, to value the opinions of their friends and family more than those of their snot-nosed peers. This becomes especially overdone during the sappy conclusion. And the episode contains a dumb-ass twist ending, like everything Stine wrote. It's about what you'd expect from a horror show targeted at ten year olds.

And yet... There is something about “The Haunted Mask” that gets under your skin. Carly-Beth is sick of always being scared. She's sick of her own failings. She sees Halloween, and the admittedly creepy titular mask, as a way to bury the version of herself she hates. (A concept literalizes when she buries a sculpture of her head her mom made.) And yet, by venturing so hard to change the elements of herself she dislikes, she also looses the parts of her personality she values. Though it's stricken with kid-friendly goofiness, there is something bracing about the scene where Carly-Beth forces her bullies to repent. Or the way the shop-owner's face is turning into a moldy, diseased mask. You could take this same premise and write a far more disturbing horror movie about kids behaving badly. And, yes, the episode is steeped in the warm glow of nostalgic childhood Halloweens, making it far more entertaining to my weary, grown-up eyes than anticipated. [7/10] 

The United Monster Talent Agency (2010)

After thirty years as one of the premiere monster makers in Hollywood, Greg Nicotero – the “N” in KNB Effects – decided to try his hand at filmmaking. He started his directional career with 2010 short “The United Monster Talent Agency,” produced for AMC's website during their annual Fear-Fest marathon. Presented as a 1940s entertainment industry newsreel, it takes us inside the United Monster Talent Agency. That would be exactly what it sounds like: A scouting and managing agency that specializes in monsters, creatures, freaks, and abominations. Going under the premise the monsters are real actors, we see how stars like the Gillman, the Wolfman, Frankenstein, and others are corralled for motion picture stardom.

“The United Monster Talent Agency” is about what you'd expect from a monster kid special effects guy who has decades worth of connections in the industry. The short features beautifully faithful recreations of all sorts of classic monster characters. Frankenstein, Gillman, and the Wolfman all get notable roles. Moments from the original “Creature from the Black Lagoon,” “The Thing from Another World,” or “Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein” are recreated in obsessive detail. More obscure critters like the Hideous Sun Demon or the Alligator People are also referenced. Despite its 1940s-style setting, newer creations like the ants from “Them,” the shark from “Jaws,” Dr. Zaius, the “Dawn of the Dead” zombies, or John Carpenter's the Thing all show up as well. Recognizable faces like Cerina Vincent, Eli Roth, Jeffrey Combs, Derek Mears, Robert Rodriguez, Frank Darabont, and Bob Burns all have cameos. 

Are there any actual jokes here or is it all a game of spot-the-reference? Well, a few. There are tiny, mildly amusing gags like a maid whose responsibility is to dust the mummy. Or the cheesy narrator cracking jokes about agents being “bloodsuckers.” Seeing how the Wolfman is controlled on-set is mildly amusing. But mostly this is a breezy, goofy act of homage for other folks obsessed with the long history of the horror genre. And I happen to fall into that category, so I appreciate the effort. Nicotero has since directed episodes of “The Walking Dead” and Shudder's new “Creepshow” series and seems ready to move into features. [7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 26th

As we head into the final week of October, Halloween being neigh, I still have a few spooky activities to squeeze in. A friend and I visited a local pumpkin patch and corn maze this past weekend. While the pumpkin patch we usually visit has a haunted attraction on the grounds, the one we visited this year skewed much younger. It had all sorts of activities for the little kids. Carnival games, a jungle jim made from haystacks, a petting zoo, a bouncy castle, bean bag toss and lots of other stuff. The main attraction for me was the absolutely massive pumpkin patch and a corn maze that was also huge. We were in there for well over an hour, it seemed. Not as much fun as a haunted house but we had a good time anyway.

Idle Hands (1999)

I've already talked in the past about what an odd reoccurring horror premise the crawling hand is. Even if Thing from “The Addams Family” is the most prominent example, it's still an image that gives some people the creeps. In the late nineties, horror was suddenly really popular again. During this time, someone sought to resurrect the disembodied hand concept as a comedy. “Idle Hands” would be marketed aggressively at the youth audience, with an MTV-ready soundtrack and a hip young cast. It wouldn't work, as the film was a box office failure. However, horror fans would embrace the movie on home video and cable. It also happens to be set on Halloween, making it a strong choice for the last week of the Blog-a-thon.

Anton is a lazy stoner teenager, who can hardly be bothered to get off the couch most nights. He's so constantly blitzed, that he doesn't even notice a serial killer is murdering people around his small Utah town. Or that his own parents have mysteriously vanished recently. When he discovers his parent's bodies, disguised as Halloween decorations, he realizes he's the killer. That the devil has taken possession of his left hand, which Anton can no longer control. He kills his best friends, the equally stoned Mark and Pnub, who return as zombies. The hand begins to target his crush, the sexy girl next door. Realizing there's nothing else he can do to stop it, Anton chops off the demonic hand... Only for it to go on a rampage all by itself at the school Halloween party.

“Idle Hands” mashes up the niche genre of the stoner movie with the even-more-niche crawling hand genre, resulting in a premise that isn't exactly laugh-worthy. Now, don't get me wrong. “Idle Hands” has some amusing gags. The best of which is Anton's best buds returning as zombies. Not because of some curse or anything but simply because they are too apathetic to go into the afterlife. The undead corpses get some of the best laughs, such as the way the decapitated one has his head crudely reattached. Or Seth Green's way with a one-liner. These moments of gentle absurdity certainly work better than some of the more aggressively wacky moments. Most of the slapstick the evil hand creates isn't especially amusing, though an aggressively wacky bit involving a cat did make me laugh. 

The reason “Idle Hands” became a minor cult classic among horror fans is, I think, its surprisingly good special effects. The crawling hand is brought to life in a shockingly seamless fashion, never looking like an artificial special effect. (Magician Christopher Hart, whose screen work is almost exclusively devoted to hand movies, plays the titular villain.) For such a goofy movie, there's some rather elaborate gore. A stand-out scene involves two cops being taken out with a knitting needle and a taser. Later, a sexy girl gets yanked violently into an industrial fan. After the Hand sharpens his fingers into points via pencil sharpener – a good gag – he de-scalps the lead singer of the Offspring. You can imagine these same murder scenes playing out in a more serious horror movie.

I think a big reason “Idle Hands” doesn't work better for me is its lead actor. Devon Sawa, teenage sex symbol to a million young girls at the time, is never especially appealing as Anton. He's goofy but kind of obnoxious, leaning into the role of a lazy stoner a little too hard. Moreover, his skills as a physical comedian are woefully unprepared for this kind of part. Peter Sellers, this guy ain't. Luckily, the supporting cast picks up some slack. As I said earlier, Seth Green steals the show as the sarcastic zombie. Vivica A. Fox gets one or two funny moments as the demon hunter, whose character exists just to justify why these wacky things are happening. Jessica Alba plays the most facile type of wish fulfillment, dream girl and the film puts her in a number of revealing outfits. But, it must be said, she does that kind of thing well.

By the way, “Idle Hands'” Halloween content is relatively strong. The film begins with a lingering shot of a Jack O'Lantern and ends at a wild Halloween party, so it certainly earns points for that. The film is also highly indicative of its time and place, with Sublime and "Dragula" featuring prominently on the soundtrack, and featuring some crude dialogue. Director Rodman Flender – previously of “Leprechaun 2" – even throws in some loud jump scares. The film is hardly worth much attention but, by some chance, if you're looking for a gory horror/comedy about a crawling hand, this is your best bet. [6/10]

The Monster (1925)

We are late into October, Halloween is nearly here, and I am craving an old dark house movie. The subgenre was basically extinct by the sixties and, save the odd parody or two, no attempts have been made to revive it. (Though some of the cliches first explored in old dark house movies would be absorbed by slasher films.) The concept – a combination of horror, comedy, and mystery revolving around an isolated group of people in an old building – was extremely popular from the late 1900s up through the forties, beginning on the stage and soon leaping to cinema. Literally hundreds of these things were made. “The Monster,” from 1925, wouldn't be an especially notable example of the genre if it didn't happen to star Lon Chaney, one of the most iconic actors of the silent era and Hollywood's first horror star.

A rich farmer disappears while driving his car near an old, abandoned sanitarium. All the town is abuzz with this news and rumors swirl wildly. Grocery store employee Johnny Goodlittle decides to become an amateur detective to uncover the truth. He mostly does this to impress Betty, the daughter of the store owner, and to beat out his rich friend Amos, who also has eyes on Betty. Through a convoluted series of events, all three end up at the abandoned sanitarium, which is now being run by the sinister Dr. Ziska and his three servants. Soon, more secrets are revealed.

“The Monster” came early in the old dark house cycle, even predating “The Cat and the Canary,” but all the cliches of the genre are present and accounted for. The film is indeed set in a spooky old building, though a sanitarium is not a house exactly. The hospital includes a number of secret tunnels, underground chambers, trap doors, and boobie traps. The film is quite sincerely set on a dark and stormy night. The only thing missing is the shadowy villain in a fedora and cape. The film makes up for that with Ziska's henchmen, which include a towering mute and a nutcase in a cloak. Even though there's really nothing in the movie that qualifies as a “monster,” you put all these classic tropes together and you still have something resembling a horror movie.

Yet as many foundational horror elements are present in “The Monster,” long stretches of the film are directed by other impulses. Slapstick comedy is present in almost every old dark house movie, usually in the form of a comic relief side character. In “The Monster,” that character is the main protagonist. Johnny Goodlittle is played by Johnny Arthur, an actor who would later become famous for playing camp gay characters in early sound movies. Arthur's comedic shtick is broad. He prances through many scenes, with a very hammy style of acting. An especially extended sequence has his character getting drunk during an otherwise very serious situation. There's also, of course, a love triangle which seems to take up quite a lot of the film's run time. We spend a very long time at a dance with Johnny, Amos, and Betty. It takes about a half-hour to get to the abandoned sanitarium and, keep in mind, this movie is only 86 minutes long.

Despite getting top-billing, Lon Chaney is underutilized. Dr. Ziska doesn't appear until the thirty minute mark and doesn't actually do anything until the very end. However, Chaney was effective even when asked to just stand around and vamp ominously. He does quite a lot of that here, playing a prototypical mad scientist with sinister glee. His henchman are quite memorable as well, with the strong, silent Caliban – played by the intimidating Walter James – and the snake-like Rigo making for amusingly daunting adversaries. The rest of the cast is fairly hammy. Aside from the comically flailing Arthur, Hallam Cooley does a lot of overacting with his face as Amos.

If not for the presence of Chaney, “The Monster” almost certainly would've been consigned to the dust bin of cinematic history. The only reason I've heard of the movie is that they use to show it on Turner Classic Movies a lot. Perhaps the film's only lasting contribution to pop history is several images from it would be used in the original MonsterVision intro. This is surely one of the first films to feature a shot of a deranged mad s                                                                                                               cientist lording over a pretty maiden strapped to an operating table. But being first doesn't correlate with quality. “The Monster” scratched my itch for an old dark house movie but, save for its iconic star and some spooky atmosphere, isn't especially good. [5/10]

Nightmares and Dreamscapes: Battleground

Considering the enduring popularity of his work and the wealth of material he's published over the years, I'm surprised nobody tried to make a Stephen King anthology series sooner. While there have been dozens of movies, and even a few serialized TV shows, inspired by America's most popular horror author, “Nightmares and Dreamscapes” would be the first anthology show drawing exclusively from King's writing. The series aired on TNT in summer of 2006, where it drew little attention. (Probably because TNT is not the first channel you associate with horror.) Eight episodes were produced, eight episodes were aired, and that was that. Among these, only the series debut – “Battleground,” from a short story found not in the titular collection but in “Night Shift” –  was written about much.

That's probably because of the episode's primary gimmick. “Battleground” is presented entirely without dialogue. Music, sound effects, and the occasional anguished yelp is the only audio. Renshaw is a professional assassin and has been hired to eliminate the head of the Morris Toys corporation. He completes the job, killing the man in cold blood, and thinks nothing of it. Upon returning to his penthouse apartment, Renshaw receives a strange package in the mail. It's a tin of green army men toys. Things get much stranger when the army men spring to life, armed with actual weapons of war, and begin to attack the hitman.

“Battleground” does have an admittedly cool concept. The episode is essentially a kaiju movie in reverse, in which the military is tiny compared to the normal sized human. Watching William Hurt, indomitably nasty as Renshaw despite never saying a word, get slowly torn up by tiny machine gun rounds or miniature bazookas is entertaining. Renshaw's initial counterattack against the army men is fierce in its effectiveness. However, “Battleground” quickly becomes repetitive, the hitman thinking he's defeated the toys only for them to return again. This is an almost-good hour of television that probably would've made an excellent half-hour episode of television.

Still, there are some stand-out moments. Such as the toys offering the adult man a chance to surrender or the final, explosive twist. There's certainly no reason for the episode to be dialogue-free but it does turn the focus towards action, a good idea. By the way, Richard Christian Matheson wrote the teleplay and includes a homage to his dad's “Trilogy of Terror.” Another famous son, Brian Henson, directed. [6/10]

Within the Woods (1978)

This past summer, I reviewed all of Sam Raimi's movies, which naturally included all the “Evil Dead” movies. So I thought it would be fitting to watch “Within the Woods” this Halloween. In case you don't know, “Within the Woods” is a half-hour long prototype for “The Evil Dead,” made to convince financial backers to invest in the feature length version. Made for all of a 1000 dollars, the short has never been officially released on home media. (You'd think one of the countless “Evil Dead” home releases would've included it as a special feature.) This hasn't stopped increasingly blurry bootlegs from circulating around horror conventions and, now, on the internet. The version on Youtube is a fourth generation copy with deeply washed-out colors, distorted sound, too much darkness, and frequent tracking errors.

Despite the almost unwatchable condition it currently survives in, “Within the Woods” is still interesting. Raimi and co. test-drove a lot of the tricks they would utilize on “Evil Dead” here. The chaotic P.O.V. shots are present, though not as smooth as they are in the final film. A number of moments here would re-appear in the feature film or its sequel. Such as the mysteriously swaying porch swing, a descent down the stairs into the cellar, a hero accidentally stabbing a friend and his body getting stuck in the door, a deadite leaping into frame through a window, or the possessed chanting “Join us!”

And, of course, the premises are nearly identical, following a group of college students isolated in a cabin, where they accidentally awake an ancient evil and are consumed by it. The differences stand out more. There's no Necronomicon, an Indian burial ground being the source of the demonic possession. This leaves the film without any deeper lore and without an easy way to destroy the monsters. Bruce Campbell's character becomes the sole homicidal zombie, while Ellen Sandweiss is our heroine.

While “Evil Dead” can only be seen as an upgrade,  “Within the Woods” is effecting in its own way. The gore effects, though hard to make out, are still clearly impressive. A shot of Bruce chewing through his own hand is amusingly nasty. A shot of the then-disembodied fist falling onto a Monopoly board is cool. Even the prototype deadite is scary, for his pure unwillingness to die. Early scenes of Bruce Campbell explaining the local legends to his girlfriend made me chuckle. “Within the Woods” will likely only be of interest to “Evil Dead” fans, and primarily for its historical values, but I think it's a pretty bitchin' short all right. [7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 25th

Dead & Buried (1981)

Here are two underappreciated names in the horror genre for you: Dan O'Bannon and Gary Sherman. O'Bannon, of course, wrote “Alien” and directed “Return of the Living Dead,” in addition to having a hand in a number of notable genre credits. Gary Sherman, meanwhile, was involved with cult classics like “Raw Meat,” “Vice Squad,” and “Lisa.” Despite contributing to classics of varying degrees, neither Sherman nor O'Bannon are the household names among horror fans they should be. Naturally, the two would collaborate early in the names with “Dead & Buried,” another underrated horror gem.

Welcome to Potter's Bluff, a seaside Rhode Island town. The peacefulness of the isolated community is disturbed when a motorist is found brutally burned. Sheriff Dan Gillis is unnerved by the crime, suspecting the body has been moved. The town's residents, including mortician William Dobbs, assure him that nothing unusual has happened. Yet the burned man is struck dead in his hospital bed. And then more dead bodies, seemingly victims of mob violence, begin to pile up. Gillis begins to suspect black magic is involved but the truth is far more terrifying than he could ever imagine.

On one level, there's not much to “Dead & Buried.” This is a straight example of a “town with a dark secret” narrative, with one of the residents being the person who uncovers the mystery. Yet Sherman adds a surprisingly spooky atmosphere of dread to the proceedings. The foggy New England setting goes a long way. Potter's Bluff is always wet and dreary, the roar of the ocean never far from your ears. The town is seemingly composed primarily of abandoned buildings. Within this setting, Sherman engineers a number of effective moments. A mutilated body, that sure seems dead, springs to life with a horrified scream. Our protagonist comes across a black-and-white film reel, which is presented in the starkest, creepiest way possible. “Dead & Buried” is even oddly poetic at times, such as when we see a dead body stripped down to the bone and then built back up again, in a series of slow, cross-fades.

Yet horror fans will probably be most drawn to “Dead & Buried” for its especially intense attack sequences. Somehow, the film repeatedly catches the viewer off-guard. The opening scene let's your guard down, a photography session growing increasingly erotic, before exploding into intense violence. The hospital stabbing is similarly sustained, the tension drawn out before delivering the squirm-inducing image of a hypodermic to the eye. A drunkard being sliced apart with a harpoon is frenzied in its delivery. The film's mood and suspense combine as a family is stalked through an empty house, before the violent mob explodes through a window. It's impressive how “Dead & Buried” manages to deliver its scares with maximum impact each time.

The first time I saw “Dead & Buried,” I knew almost nothing about it. This is the best way to approach the film. The film operates as a mystery, no immediate cause for the violent attacks being evident. While the audience knows the townsfolk have grown deadly, Sheriff Gillis can only guess. The story unravels in an interesting way, slowly leaving hints at something larger. Such as a suggestion of black magic. Or a single shot of some odd scratches on someone's arm. By the time the funeral director is rising from his own cold locker, we've realized that “Dead & Buried” is a zombie film of a very unusual sort. Yet even that doesn't prepare us for the twist ending, visually conveyed to be as shocking as possible.

Finally, what holds “Dead & Buried” together is an especially strong cast. James Farentio is likable as Sheriff Gillis, a man genuinely motivated by a desire to help other people and increasingly baffled by the violence he sees. Farentino panics extremely well and that comes in handy during the film's last act. Jack Albertson, Grandpa Joe himself, makes the town's sinister undertaker an especially memorable character. His monologue about how his work is an art form, or quirks like his obsession with jazz music, are especially endearing. Though his part is small, Robert Englund is immediately recognizable as a typical Potter's Bluff resident.

Dan O'Bannon's involvement in “Dead & Buried” was heavily trumpeted, as the film was advertised as coming from “the creators of 'Alien.'” (O'Bannon would disown the finished film, claiming his script was not used and he only got attached to the film for promotional reasons.) This did little to draw in audiences, as “Dead & Buried” disappeared from theaters quickly. Yet it was increasingly rediscovered on video and cable, where horror fans found it to be a suitably grisly and original feature. A zombie movie unlike any other, “Dead & Buried” is fantastically scary and beautifully assembled, a true eighties classic that everyone should check out. [9/10]

Critters Attack! (2019)

Someone seems determined to resurrect the “Critters” franchise. Part four came out in 1992 and, for two whole decades, there was nary a peep. By the early nineties, the public's hunger for low budget “Gremlins” rip-offs must've surely run dry anyway. And yet, for some reason, we've gotten two new “Critters” bits of media this year. Hot on the heels of the long delayed web-series “A New Binge,” came a brand new movie. “Critters Attack!” was produced by the same production company as “A New Binge,” making me suspect a licensing deal was about to expire or something. However, the film is unrelated to the web-show and, in fact, only loosely connects with the original four “Critters” series.

Two unidentified flying objects crash-land over the rural countryside. Those ravenous Crites have returned to Earth. The first capsule contains a white, female, seemingly benevolent Crite. The second capsule contains a whole mess of hungry, mischievous, black-furred males. Meanwhile, frustrated twenty-something Drea – who longs to get into college but has difficult being accepted – takes a job babysitting the kids of the school administrator. While hiking through the woods, they come across the female Crite. This attacks the evil critters, who are already devouring all in their way, to them. Meanwhile, a familiar face also detects the Crites' presence on Earth and begins to track them.

Considering they ended up appealing most to horror fans, it might be hard to remember that the “Critters” movies were basically intended for kids. Despite featuring some bloody gnawings and even some occasional nudity, each of the original four “Critters” movies were rated PG. “Critters Attack!,” meanwhile, is rated R. There's a certain novelty to seeing the first R-rated Crites adventure. The nasty little monster truly chew their victims to pieces. One guy has his leg gnawed down to the bone. A showering park ranger splatters blood on the curtain. Lots of red stuff is smeared around as they chomp through the town. The monsters get their share too, lots of green blood being splattered as Crites as sliced in half, stabbed with pitchforks, or split down the middle.

The “Critters” series never had an especially deep mythology. The premise is basically the same in each movie, simply the setting being changed. “Critters Attacks!” does attempt to mix things up slightly. The addition of an adorable, good Crite – the white female being nicknamed Bianca – pays off nicely when she starts fighting back against the other Crites. Having Dee Wallace return, this time as one of the series' bounty hunters, is a nice touch. (Though supposedly some weird copyright situation prevented her from officially playing the same character she did in the original.) However, these additions to “Critters'” lore mostly just make the series more of a “Gremlins” rip-off than ever before. Bianca essentially fits the same role as Gizmo, even making similar cooing noises. The Crites fiddle with technology more than ever and gain a devastating weakness, in the form of high-pitched sound.

While “Critters Attack!” has some potentially interesting idea, it's ultimately undone by sheer dourness. Truly, is the “Critters” franchise not the story of a young girl struggling to get into a nice college? Simply put, too many scenes are devoted to Drea angsting about her inability to get into a fancy university. While decent Critters action is doled out throughout, it's sandwiched between loooong scenes of the characters talking among themselves about her schooling situation. Subplots that seem important, such as Drea's uncle or a bag-pipe playing boy with a crush, are discarded bluntly. This causes “Critters Attack!” to feel overly serious and sluggish, even when there are decent gags like the Crites pocketing some sushi or coughing up bubbles.

Supposedly, “Critters Attack!” is a result of Syfy Channel purchasing the rights to the series and will apparently proceed more new sequels. What makes a “Gremlin” rip-off being revived in 2019 so weird, is that “Critters” and “Gremlins” are both now owned by Warner Brothers. Why focus on the knock-off when you could be using the original “Critters Attack!” is less crude, in both content and production values, than “A New Binge.” Yet the web series was ultimately far more entertaining. It did wacky, new things with this series and created some character you could actually be invested in. As opposed to this sequel, which largely goes through the motions with a non-committal cast and a group of generic heroes. [5/10]

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: Tale of the Dead Man's Float

For horror fans of a certain age, “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” was a pivotal show. Broadcast on Nickelodeon, which was best known for wacky cartoons and children's game shows at the time, the series is renown for its menacing monsters-of-the-week and creepy opening. Despite being a young horror fan, I was never a regular watcher of “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” No specific reason, I just missed the boat on this one. I will say that opening – a series of seemingly benevolent childhood attractions but seen late at night, through a dark filter, while a heart beats on the soundtrack – is amazingly spooky

Does the selected episode, “Tale of the Dead Man's Float,” stand up to that opening? Both yes and no. The story begins in 1954, where a little boy drowns in the school pool after being dragged down by an invisible force. The pool is closed, the area boarded up, and the incident is forgotten about... Except by the life guard that day, a kid named Charlie, who still feels guilty all these years later. In the modern age, science nerd Zeke befriends swimming champ Clorice, the two harboring crushes on each other. They uncover the secret pool and unknowingly awaken the entity living inside. Using science, Zeke makes the monster invisible but that can't kill it.

In many ways, “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” is exactly the kiddie bullshit I was expecting. The framing device, devoted to the Midnight Society telling the tale around camp fire, is full of wacky child-friendly slapstick. The early scenes of the actual episode feature goofy music and lots of adolescent drama. Moments devoted to Zeke being gently mocked or Clorice considering her crush on the boy are disposable. However, “Tale of the Dead Man's Float” does feature an amazingly gross monster. The creature looks like a bloody, rotting corpse – and is said to smell like one too – and it's surprisingly graphic for a kid's program. The scenes around the abandoned pool are surprisingly dark in their direction too. Science being used to defeat the creature was probably and attempt to teach kids about chemistry but it's incorporated into the story fairly organically. I don't know if I'm going to seek out the rest of this show just yet but this episode was alright. [6/10]

Curve (2016)

“Curve,” a 2016 short film from director Tim Egan, has a minimalistic but undeniably catchy premise. A woman awakens against a smooth, stone wall above a black, deep pit. The wall is steeply curved, making her situation precarious indeed. That's it. Egan refreshingly resists the need to expand the idea any further than that. No explanation for who the woman is, how she got in this scenario, or what exactly the purpose of this fatal experiment is. There's only chilling suggestions at something more: Strange sounds from within the pit, bloody hand prints on the opposing wall, suggesting other people have been through this experience.

Instead, the focus is on the suspense of what the woman does. Egan's camera watches patiently as she attempts to re-situate herself without slipping any further down the wall. The short's sound design is excellent, as we hear every squeak and creak she makes against the curve. Even though we know nothing about this woman, the intimate direction makes this a highly tense experience anyway. The ending might seem moot – either she falls into the pit or she doesn't, right? – but Egan still throws in a fantastically cruel twist. Some have even read into the nine minute short, seeing either a story about depression or the indomitable will to survive inside the human spirit. It's hard to see too much in such a brief film, with so little on its bones narratively, but just as an exercise in form and tension, “Curve” is very successful. [7/10]

Halloween 2019: October 24th

Alice, Sweet Alice (1976)

There have been a lot of movies made about Catholicism. This is probably just because a lot of filmmakers come out of New York City, a heavily Catholic area. Yet I think there's an argument to be made that the rituals and institutions of Catholicism are especially cinematic. The garb of the priests, the ritualized customs of communion and confession, the symbolism inherent in stained glass windows, collars, rosaries. Not to mention the long history of the church certainly provides lots of grist for storytellers. Naturally, the horror genre touches upon the Catholic Church frequently. At the opposite end of “The Exorcist,” where the Catholic Church saves the day, is “Alice, Sweet Alice.” Alfred Sole's infamous 1976 proto-slasher was so critical of the Church that it's been publicly condemned on more than one occasion.

In Paterson, New Jersey during the early sixties, Catherine does her best to raise her two daughters. While seven year old Karen is angelic and beloved, twelve year old Alice is moody, mischievous, and shunned. Catherine substitutes the girls' missing father – the two are divorced – with the Catholic Church. During Karen's first communion, tragedy strikes. The girl is strangled to death, her corpse set on fire, by a strange attacker in a feminine mask and a yellow rain slicker. Alice is widely suspected for the crime, due to her disturbing behavior, but she insists on her innocence. The killer continues to attack throughout the apartment complex, Alice and Karen's father being drawn into the mystery.

Speaking as someone non-religious, the main benefit of being a church-going person is, as far as I can tell, the sense of community and togetherness that come with a good congregation. “Alice, Sweet Alice” portrays the far more common truth. The film depicts religion as a system of judgment, as a way for people to condemn others. Alice demands to take communion, longing for the acceptance it brings, but is repeatedly refused. A crone-faced nun stares at the girls as they kneel at the vestibule. An infirm Catholic priests whines and begs throughout the film, clearly suffering from dementia. Sole shoots the scenes set in the church in cramped close-ups, emphasizing the lack of privacy in this place. When a kindly priest tries to deliver peace and forgiveness to the killer, she returns a repressed lust to him. “Alice, Sweet Alice” has been referred to “anti-Catholic” and that seems fair. The film stands against all organized religion.

Invoking the rituals of the Catholic Church is a primary way “Alice, Sweet Alice” generates its eerie tone. This is a film where nothing ever feels right. A free-form menace floats in the air, the events simultaneously feeling dream-like and anxiety inducing. The similarly dreamy musical score helps further this tone. Into this atmosphere of uncertain, Sole introduces moments of shocking violence and uncomfortable suggestions of depravity. The murder scenes in “Alice, Sweet Alice” attack with an undeniably ferocity. The stairway stabbing sequence, undoubtedly the film's scariest moment, occurs in a closed-in, cramp location, a sensitive part of the body being pierced. A later stabbing is similarly claustrophobic in its execution, before the violence escalates with a brick smashed over the head and into the mouth, before the body is dropped out a window. If the violence doesn't make you flinch, the moments devoted to a morbidly obese landlord pawing at a young girl, or a cop commenting on the same twelve year old girl's breasts, most definitely will.

Watching “Alice, Sweet Alice” after re-visiting “Hereditary” earlier in the month makes me wonder if Ari Aster is a fan of this film. Alfred Sole's movie deals with Big Emotions. After her daughter is murdered, Katherine shrieks in agony. After her sister is attacked, she similarly screams for the heavens. The following scene in the hospital features a similar moment of hysterics. This is only right, as “Alice, Sweet Alice” deals heavily with emotional trauma. Much like how the institution of the church has failed the characters, so has the institution of family. Resentment, especially against Alice, floats throughout the household. The simple act of sitting in a car headed towards the funeral is thick with difficulty.

So what of Alice? It's interesting that, despite getting title billing, Alice does not end up being the killer. The mad-woman in the distinctive yellow slicker and off-putting transparent mask, with streaked harlot's make-up down its face, ends up being a minor supporting character, motivated by her own Catholic guilt to punish those she deems unworthy of God. Yet why is Alice's behavior so creepy? Why does she hide artifacts from her dead sister? Why does she seemed repulsed by the landlord in one scene and then seemingly attempts to seduce him in the next? Alice is rarely shown love throughout the film. She's usually yelled at and verbally punished. Even her mother, who tries to connect with Alice, is more off-put than anything else by her daughter. (This is why she keeps starting her period a secret.) Alice may not be our killer but she is symbolic of all the failings “Alice, Sweet Alice” exposes. Paula Shepphard, who was 18 at the time of filming, is deeply unnerving in the part.

Alfred Sole has made few films besides “Alice, Sweet Alice.” He began in pornography and would go onto slasher parody “Pandemonium,” but this film is his claim-to-fame. And this film is, perhaps, most infamous for being Brooke Shields' debut. After she shot to fame, it was re-issued on VHS under the title “Holy Terror,” her face and name prominent on the box. Horror fans, meanwhile, have come to cherish “Alice” as an extremely creepy, disquieting early example of the slasher genre. (The film heavily resembles a giallo, both in tone and its detective story, but Sole claims he was unfamiliar with that subgenre.) Indie horror auteur Dante Tomaselli, a cousin of Alfred Sole, has been working on a remake since 2006 and still mentions it occasionally. Until that gets made, “Alice, Sweet Alice” will remain a distinctive horror classic. [8/10]

Forever Evil (1988)

Even though JD and I only spent one day at Monster-Mania this year, we still had certain traditions we tried to fulfill. Such as stopping by the VHS Preservation Society's booth and asking for a recommendation. As always, I asked them for something “weird and old.” I was pointed in the direction of “Forever Evil,” which shouldn't be confused with “Beyond Evil” or “Eternal Evil.” The way the film was described to me, it seemed abreast with flicks like “Demonwind,” “Hellgate,” or “Spookies.” Ya know, an oddball eighties horror flick about college kids in an isolated location encountering all sorts of demons, monsters, and weird shit. It turns out “Forever Evil” sort of belongs to this particular subgenre for its first few minutes before shifting towards something even goofier.

Marc joins a group of old college friends, including his pregnant girlfriend, for a retreat at a secluded cabin. The group is unaware that a supernatural cult is active in the near-by area. Demonic entities arise and kill everyone except Marc. In the following months, Marc becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth. He teams up with a police detective and a journalist to get to the bottom of things. He uncovers a conspiracy to bring an ancient god of evil, called Yog Kothag, into flesh-and-blood existence. Marc hunts down this evil, looking to destroy it before anymore innocents are killed.

“Forever Evil” begins as if it's another low budget “Evil Dead” rip-off, likely made by a group of friends goofing around. The old college buddies share private jokes and particular dialogue that is meaningless to us but probably meant something to the people making the movie. P.O.V. monsters tears them apart, frequently in very cheesy ways. This only accounts for the film's first twenty minutes. “Forever Evil” does not let its low budget restrict its imagination. The film then reveals an elaborate mythology, obviously inspired by Lovecraft. (The Necronomicon is name-dropped.) “Forever Evil” bends towards lucubrate conspiracy theories and action movie theatrics, the likes of which you probably didn't expect from a super low budget gore-fest. You certainly can't fault the filmmaker's ambitions.

Fans of gooey special effects and low-budget buffoonery will certainly find some things to entertain them in “Forever Evil.” The gore effects are mostly pretty crude, being limited to people smeared with fake blood... Save for some especially graphic gags. The highlight of the film is when Marc is haunted by spectres of his dead girlfriend and their unborn child. The only time the film comes to close to spooky at all is when a ghoulish baby crawls up to him out of the darkness. Another highlight is when the ghost of the girlfriend claws a fetus from her pregnant belly. That was pretty wicked. Most of the film's climax is devoted to fighting an undying zombie named Alfie, the earthly manifestation of Yog Kothag. Despite his threatening appearance, Alfie repeatedly gets the shit kicked out of him by the heroes. He's shot, stabbed, burned, and eventually blown up. Yet he just keeps coming, the make-up job getting gooier and messier. That's the kind of tenacity I respect in a monster.

Ultimately though, it's hard to recommend “Forever Evil.” From what I've described of the movie, you'd fully expect this thing to be over in eighty minutes, right? Ninety max? Nope, “Forever Evil” runs for nearly two hours. Most of that runtime is devoted to Marc chatting with the police detective and the female journalist, preparing for his final battle with the forces of evil. It's hard to get too invested in this stuff. The film starts to drag very quickly and it focuses on building up a mythology that the filmmakers cared about way more than the audience. The relationship between the cast, which includes an extremely sudden romance, is similarly uninvolving. Even after the undying zombie is defeated, the film still doesn't have the good sense to end. An extended epilogue attempts to wrap up any lingering plot points.

If “Forever Evil” had run about a half-hour shorter and focused on its goofy low budget atmosphere and grisly special effects, it would've been a totally entertaining slice of eighties horror cheese. Instead, the filmmakers were a little too confident in their own story. The result is a bloated creature feature that the audience can barely be bothered to follow along with. It's a bummer too, as this one came real close to satisfying my desire for weirdo eighties cheese. By the way, the VHSPS disc includes a lo-fi trailer for something called “Murder Rap” at the start and features Oingo Boingo as the menu music. Now that I can get into! [5/10]

The Twilight Zone: Nightcrawlers

The enduring influence and popularity of “The Twilight Zone” means there have been several attempts to resurrect Rod Serling's series. Aside from the unlucky theatrical movie and a TV film, there's been three long form TV revivals. Before the most recent version with Jordan Peele, and a largely forgotten version with Forest Whittaker, there was the 1985 “Zone.” Notable filmmakers like Wes Craven, Peter Medak, and Joe Dante would be behind the camera, with authors like Ray Bradbury, Harlon Ellison, and Stephen King contributing stories. The eighties “Twilight Zone” never really caught on in its day, being canceled after two seasons, revived for a syndicated third season, and then canceled again. Since then, the show has developed a cult following. Of all the episodes, “Nightcrawlers,” from season one and directed by William Friedkin, seems especially well regarded.

State trooper Wells pulls into a roadside dinner. He's just come from a bullet-ridden crime scene at a local hotel. At that same time, a man named Price enters the establishment. Price soon reveals himself to be a Vietnam veteran. Disturbed by his memories of the war, Price also has the ability to manifest his dreams and nightmares. Soon, an alternation with the state trooper triggers a full-blown Vietnam flashback in the man. A series of undead soldiers descent on the dinner, emerging from Price's disturbed imagination.

Like so much eighties pop culture, “Nightcrawlers” shows the public consciousness further digesting the aftereffects of the Vietnam War. Friedkin's segment, the last part of the first season's fourth episode, brings the carnage of the war back home in a rather literal fashion. “The Exorcist” director creates a fittingly foreboding atmosphere. Beginning with heavy rainfall, a doom-laden tone quickly overtakes the short. Scott Paulin gives an appropriately intense and unhinged performance as Price, his frenzied delivery ramping up the tension. And that's before gory, zombie soldiers crawl out of the darkness, a nightmarish image if I've ever seen one. I have no idea if the rest of the eighties “Twilight Zone” stood up to scrutiny but “Nightcrawlers” is a delightfully dark and creepy story, well directed and acted with some surprisingly graphic shocks. [7/10]

Critters: A New Binge: The Final Battle

“A New Binge” tries to pull off a fittingly grand finale on its very low budget. “The Final Battle” has Chris, having embraced his half-Crite lineage, facing off against the Bounty Hunters at his hometown's hot dog eating contest. The Crites, however, see the gathering as an excuse to start devouring everyone in their path. Utter chaos breaks out, the furry monsters killing indiscriminately. Realizing his alien brothers are just as bad as the Bounty Hunters, his friends and family endangered, Chris makes the hard decision to fight his own kind.

After a run of solidly entertaining episode, “A New Binge” stumbles a bit in its finale. There are solid gags here. Such as a hot dog eating contestant continuing to chow down, even after the monsters attack. Or Brian's attempt to dissuade the Bounty Hunters and Chris remembering his uncle not-so-inspiring words. However, the show ends up trying a little too hard in its final episode. The low budget really shows here. Though it's cool to see the Critters form into a giant ball again, a call-back to “Critters 2,” the special effects are not so special here. The last few minutes are a storm of Crites exploding in an unconvincing manner. The sequel hook for another season is pretty bad though. (And unlikely, considering how “A New Binge” got abandoned by its production company.) I'm happy to see “A New Binge” doesn't soften its monstrous invaders any, letting them be vicious killers here. And there's even an attempt at some pathos, as Chris' mom takes some drastic measure. However, the show remains too flippant and aggressively wacky for any real emotional resonance. [6/10]

However, I think I'll give “Critters: A New Binge” a positive score over all. The series' extremely low budget was readily apparent from time to time. The writing was extremely crude but I still ended up laughing frequently. The cast is above average, with Joey Morgan being an especially well-suited lead. The web series even put some surprising spins on established “Critters” lore, as it was. I initially wondered why an eight part web series was made instead of a new movie. Then I realized, if you clipped out the end credits, the entirety of “A New Binge” still runs only about an hour. So let's be thankful this was allowed to be the goofy trifle it is and not a badly padded out feature. If nothing else, it's better than “Zombeavers.” [Critters: A New Binge: 7/10]