Halloween 2020: September 21st

Audition (1999)

When “Audition” played the 2000 Telluride Film Festival, it brought Takashi Miike to the west. The prolific Japanese director – he directed seven other movies in 1999 -  was best known in his home country for ultraviolent gangster flicks like “Blues Harp” or “Full Metal Yakuza.” With “Audition,” Miike would earn a reputation for grisly horror that would largely change the course of his career. Though many reviewers were reluctant to reveal it, the film's drastic tonal shift in the last third, from low-key drama to intense torture-horror, quickly became well known. By the time I sat down to watch the movie, some years later, I was certainly aware of the switcharoo. It had a a drastic effect on my ability to enjoy “Audition” and, in fact, I haven't liked most of the Miike movies I've seen since. Yet, considering the vaulted place this film holds in horror history, I figured I better give it a second look.

When Aoyama's wife died of cancer, it broke his heart. Ten years later, he still hasn't recovered. His now teenage son, after getting a girlfriend of his own, encourages his dad to find a new wife. Aoyama's friend, a film producer, devises a strategy where they will hold an audition for a fake film, the role calling for the specifics attributes Aoyama hopes to find in a new wife. Through this duplicitous method, he meets Asami. The quiet, lonely girl immediately attracts Aoyama. As the two continue their courtship, certain gaps in Asami's past become apparent. As he investigates his new girlfriend's origins, Aoyama will uncover a terrifying truth and suffer a horrible fate.

“Audition” was sold to me with a brilliant premise. I was told the film was a charming romance for its first ninety minutes before suddenly, and unexpectedly, becoming a disturbing horror picture in its final third. What a brilliant trick to spring on an unaware audience! This, however, is not the movie “Audition” actually is. There are plenty of warnings about Asami's true nature. After Aoyama decides she's the girl for him, his friend informs him that her stories don't line up. The night they consummate their relationship, she acts erratically. We get peeks at her sitting in her room, spine jutting out, as she glares obsessively at the telephone. The eerily doll-like Eihi Shiina plays the character as clearly unwell. After the first stop on his journey to dig into Asami's past, where he meets a deformed ballet teacher, Aoyama should've gotten the hell out of there. Not only does “Audition” lay down the cards concerning its twist way too early, its protagonist also looks like a moron for not noticing sooner that there's something very wrong with his new bride-to-be. 

This is all the more disappointing because “Audition,” for a while, is actually a fascinating exploration of loneliness. Aoyama, played by a wonderfully quiet Ryo Ishibashi, lives an isolated life. His son, a paleontology enthusiast who bonds with his girlfriend over biology text books, rarely has in-depth conversations with him. The family pet, an adorable beagle named Gangu, doesn't bring much comfort. Asami, similarly, lives a lonely life. Her personal essay, where she talks about giving up on her dreams, is what truly attracts Aoyama. He sees a kindred spirit in the girl. As he learns that Aoyama was physically, and possibly sexually, abused as a child, “Audition” reaches an interesting point. Just as Aoyama's current situation arose out of his wife's death, Asami has been molded by the pain in her past. Is our current selves the result of the trauma in our past? And is it possibly to rise out of that pain with love? All of that goes out the window once the truth kicks in, of course. 

There are other ideas possibly floating inside “Audition.” As Aoyama and his friend conceive the audition, they bemoan the death of traditional Japanese values. He hopes to find a woman that reflects these fading values, that soft femininity. The two men have a group of women march before them, grading each one on their various attributes. Reducing real, complex people to a checklist of desires, all in the name of pleasing a man, is obviously sexist. It's also something real dudes do all the time. During the psychedelic flashback sequence, Aoyama sees multiple women – his wife, his son's girlfriend – standing in Asami's place, suggesting he sees all women the same anyway. They're all just vessels for his gratification. Once Asami's bloody torture begins, it's tempting to read it as payback for the entire audition charade. As punishment for Aoyama's sexist behavior, blow back against Japan's entire culture of sexism.

This is a popular reading but, considering the almost fetishistic focus on rape and violence-against-women seen in Miike's other films, I think it might be giving “Audition” too much credit. Instead, “Audition's” moral emerges as “don't stick your dick in crazy." Once Asami has Aoyama drugged and strapped down, the film turns its focus to cringe-inducing gore. Tiny needles are driven into his chest, while Eihi Shiida giggles girlishly. The sound design and direction makes the act of an ankle sawed off with piano wire even more graphically unsettling. It's an excellently executed display of disturbing gore and torture. “Audition” would influence the American torture horror trend that kicked off a few years later but it's more effective than most of those films, largely by making its torture so easily understood and related too. Most of the seasick tension generate in this scene is squandered by Miike still cutting away to trippy flashback scenes and a wet fart of a climax, Aoyama being sparred in sudden, unconvincing manner. 

“Audition” is adapted from a novel by Ryu Murakami. I really enjoyed another recent adaptation of his work, “Piercing,” and you can see similar threads of emotional and physical kinkiness in this film. However, the flaws I see in “Audition” are still apparent. If the film hadn't foreshadowed its tonal shift so gratuitously, I'd probably love it. If Asami had been developed more, instead of eventually dissolving into a giggling psycho, that would've been nice. If the film committed more to its ideas of what loneliness will make a person do, to how men view women, I might've loved it. If, if, if... I honestly think “Audition” would be a great candidate for a remake but I'm doubtful any American filmmaker would be willing to touch such a respected film. Miike's direction is stylish and he knows how to deliver upsetting violence but “Audition” still doesn't work for me. [6/10]

Amityville 3-D (1983)

The question of how 3-D movies saw a brief revival in the early eighties can be answered easily enough. A low-budget comedy throwback to the spaghetti westerns called “Comin' at Ya!” was presented in 3-D and became a surprise hit in 1981. Why 3-D movies were a brief fad again, thirty years after their heyday, is trickier to determined. Maybe older audiences were drawn in thanks to boomer nostalgia, while the gimmick was something totally new to the kids. Whatever the reason, as it usually does, genre films were the ones most eager to capitalize. Gratuitously subtitled sci-fi flicks with goofy compound titles like “Metalstorm,” “Starchaser,” and “Spacehunter” would utilize the format. Low budget horror films like “Parasite” and “Silent Madness” hoped to add to their box office by jumping on the bandwagon. And, of course, franchises couldn't resist the gimmick of presenting the third part in the third dimension. Way down the list after the campy heights of “Friday the 13th Part III” and “Jaws 3-D” is “Amityville 3-D.”  

Though once again legally barred from referencing the Lutz family, “Amityville 3-D” at least acknowledges the DeFio murders, establishing it as a true sequel. John Baxter, a writer for skeptical magazine Reveal, debunks a séance within Long Island's infamous 112 Ocean Avenue. Despite the home's morbid history, John decides to buy it. He hopes this will please his ex-wife Nancy and their teenage daughter Susan. Immediately, strange things begin to happen in the home. The real estate agent dies after being attacked by flies. John's writing partner suffers a macabre car accident. Strange noises and lights are seen around the building. As the body count rises, John is forced to acknowledge 112 Ocean Avenue really is under demonic influence.

At the very least, “Amityville 3-D” has a decent idea for a sequel. Drawing inspiration from the real life skeptical investigations into the Amtyville case was a strong foundation to build upon. I've often said the story of the fraud behind “The Amityville Horror” is a lot more interesting than the actual hoax story. The 3-D film also, surprisingly, weaves a story of parental grief into its plot. Susan, halfway through the film, dies in a fatal boating accident. Her mother sees her daughter's spirit, soaking wet, take one more walk through the house. Later, when confronted with the body, Mom is too stunned to believe what's happening. Eventually, the demonic presence in the home uses Nancy's loss to manipulate her. The scenes dealing with the death of a child have a real sense of pathos about them, providing some unexpected dramatic heft to “Amityville 3-D's” back half.

Sadly, “Amityville 3-D” otherwise has a similar problem as the first two installments. The film approaches its horrors in as hysterical and over-the-top fashion as possible. The real estate agent isn't buzzed by merely some flies. An entire swarm of flies covers his body. An especially ridiculous moment has John's partner being blown around the house by a gust of wind from the basement. Once again, the house's evil influence extends beyond the driveway. John is tossed about by an out-of-control elevator. His partner is nearly impaled by a pipe smashing through her windshield, before an unlikely fire claims her life. When not doing that, “Amityville 3-D” just tosses shrieking, gooey skeletons at the viewer. The attempts to frighten are trying so hard to be scary, throttling the viewer with in-your-face loudness, that they immediately become silly instead.

“Amityville 3-D” isn't as fun of a campy 3-D sequel as “Jaws 3-D” or “Friday the 13th Part III.” Yeah, lots of objects are tossed into the viewers' face, including an incredibly slow moving frisbee. Yet the sequel uses the eye-gouging effects just sparingly enough that the gimmick never becomes cheesy fun, like in those other sequels. However, you can tell the 3-D gimmick gave the third film a beefed-up budget. “Amityville 3-D” is sometimes known as “Amityville 3: The Demon.” Indeed, a fishy demon with bulging red eyes leaps out of the well in the basement in the final act. (The wet is filled to the brim with water this time, which is very different from the shallow water seen in the last two entries.) Hilariously, this creature breathes fire too. Even with the extra ghoulies and goop, “Amityville 3-D” still can't think of a decent finale. As far as I can tell, the heroes do nothing to defeat the house's evil. Instead, the cursed building just goes up in flames totally of its own accord.

Coming late in the eighties 3-D cycle, “Amityville 3-D” must've seen like something of a hanger-on. At least, I'm assuming that was the case, given the sequel's mediocre box office. (The film just broke even.) Director Richard Fleischer, whose truly random filmography is seemingly only held together by an interest in stunts and special effects, wasn't affected too badly by the sequel's disappointing run. He would quickly move on “Conan the Destroyer,” another eighties sequel of debatable merit. Despite not being very good, “Amityville 3-D” must have a following of sorts. It's been re-released on DVD and Blu-Ray several times, including in actual 3-D for the folks who want to experience this film in its original presentation for whatever reason. [5/10]

Creepshow: Bad Wolf Down / The Finger

“Creepshow” wants you to know that how pulpy it can get in its second episode. In “Bad Wolf Down,” a squadron of American soldiers are chased by a vengeful Nazi captain into an abandoned prison, surrounded by landmines. After being betrayed by one of their own, they discover a woman inside claiming to be a werewolf. She ends up providing the men with an unusual solution to their problem. In “The Finger,” unemployed and recently divorced Clark discovers a strange animal finger while out on a walk. He takes it home with him and, unexpectedly, It grows into a small creature. He befriends the critter, which he names Bob. Soon, however, Bob is seeking out and killing the people who anger Clark. 

“Bad Wolf Down” was directed by comic-creator-turned-filmmaker Rob Schrab. Fittingly, Schrab makes good use of the show's comic book transitions, the werewolf transformations occurring in four-color panels. The gory finale features some cheap looking gore but is colorfully directed, with lots of red lighting and fog. The story is rather predictable and you quickly figure out what its trajectory will be. However, the pulpy fun inherent in the premise of “werewolves vs. Nazis” is undeniable. Schrab includes multiple references to werewolf classics, with familiar sounding names like Talbot, Kessler, and Quist. We get a variety of wolfmen here, four-legged, two-legged, and man/wolf hybrids being spotted. The cast is blustery and macho, including Jeffrey Combs as the cartoonish evil Nazi officer. Good, gory fun over all.

Greg Nicotero is back behind the camera for “The Finger,” adapted from a short story by David J. Schow. The best thing about this segment is Bob himself. Despite looking like a cross between a xenomorph and the Cloverfield monster, he's still pretty cute. Especially his love of soap operas and popcorn. Brought to life largely through puppetry and stop-motion, his little shrieks are awfully expressive. Bob's charming qualities make up for “The Finger's” other weaknesses. Clark is a largely unlikable protagonist, increasingly bitter and amoral as the story progresses. D.J. Qualls' performance, when combined with the narration-heavy dialogue, is a bit on the abrasive side. The segment's humor is generally too crass. Yet a cute and lovable little monster keeps things from getting too obnoxious. [Bad Wolf Down: 7/10] [The Finger: 6/10]

Forever Knight: Black Buddha, Part 2

Schanke's death moves further into the background in the second part of “Forever Knight: Season Three's” opening story arc. Instead, Nick Knight's hunt for the mad bomber – now nicknamed “Voodoo,” for the song that all his music box bombs play -  heats up. He tries to figure out the method behind the killer's madness. Detective Tracy continues to resist the advances of vampire Javier Vachon, who is on the run from another vampire known as the Incan, his “sibling” vampire he has a centuries old link to. Soon, these divergent storylines meet up when Tracy meets a seemingly nice guy who gives her a mysterious package...

Tracy Vetter continues to not endear herself to viewers in this episode. While a maniac is trying to blow up the city, she's worried about getting a date. That her suspicions aren't immediately raised by the guy she meets doesn't speak well of her deductive reasoning skills. At least she realizes what is open when she discovers the music box he gave her. Nick's arguments with Captain Reese about the nature of mass murderers proves mildly interesting, even if it's an obvious attempt to deepen the episode's themes. The subplot concerning Javier and the Incan's origins prove more interesting, which pays off in a satisfying manner. Still, I wish this two-parter focused more on Schanke's death and the effect it has on Nick and Natalie. It's evident the show is already struggling to replace him. [6/10]

Halloween 2020: September 20th

Train to Busan (2016)

The zombie, all too fittingly, is the pop culture monster that keeps returning to life no matter how many times we think we've killed it. The early 2000s wave of zombie flicks, spurned on by the “Dawn of the Dead” remake, seemed to burn itself out entirely just for “The Walking Dead” to come along and make zombies a big fucking deal again. Even though that show is still shambling along, its relevance has long since faded, dragging down the idea of zombies with it. Yet now, a new wave of zombie movies has arisen overseas, raking in serious box office and receiving impressive reviews. “Train to Busan,” a Korean film from animator-turned-director Yeon Sang-ho, would be popular across the Asian continent in 2016 before becoming a cult sensation in the English speaking world. Even though I'm about as burned out on zombies as you can be, I figured I better give this one a look.

Korean fund manager Seok-woo works long hours to distract himself from his nasty divorce, which has forced a wedge between him and his young daughter, Su-an. For her birthday, all Su-an wants is to see her mother, who lives in the city of Busan. Seok-woo reluctantly agrees to board a train with his daughter, for what should be a simple rid. Instead, not long after boarding the Korean eXpress in Seoul, the world begins to end. A man-made virus is sweeping through Korea, turning the infected into savage zombies that attack any living thing they see. Seok-woo and Su-an are soon part of a small group of survivors on the train, trying to protect themselves from those already infected, as their slowly chug towards their destination.

So what does “Train to Busan” bring to the zombie premise that sets it apart from the thousand other undead flicks? Mostly, a sense of immediacy. These zombies are fast and hard to kill. One notable sequence, presented via shaky cellphone footage uploaded to the internet, has the zombies falling off the helicopter they are clinging to, landing in a parking lot, just to get up and continue pursuing new victims. The virus in “Train to Busan” spreads really fast, to the point that people turn into zombies almost instantly after being beaten. Though obviously beholden to Snyder's “Dawn” and “World War Z,” Yeon brings a renewed ferocity to the worn-out ideas here. These zombies are a threat, which can only be tricked by blocking their senses, and that brings an unrelenting tension to much of “Train to Busan.”

Yeon is also extremely good at engineering intense scenarios. More than once, the film pulls off surprise sequences. The way society quickly falls into chaos here – we first get a glimpse of a stranger getting tackled in the distance – is compelling. During one of the few stop-offs on the train ride, the ensemble believes they've found safety with the military... Only to realize that they too have been compromised by the virus. Several characters get bitten when you least expect it. The highlight of the film, and a likely homage to “Snowpiercer,” has Seak-woo and Sang-hwa making their way through the train, fighting off small hordes of zombies with just some shields and their fists. Moments like that suggests Yeon could definitely direct one of those kick-ass Korean action movies I'm always hearing about. 

For all its positive attributes, “Train to Busan” ultimately can't keep up that sense of panicked chaos. After that armed march through the train, the film falls into a predictable malaise. As in all zombie movies, an asshole emerges out of the survivors, beginning to bark orders and force people to make dramatic decisions. This is because the characters are the least interesting thing about “Train to Busan.” Seok-woo's arc, of a workaholic dad learning to appreciate his kid, is nothing we haven't seen a hundred times before. While a few deaths are surprising, the inevitable heroic sacrifices that arise can easily be spotted. “Train to Busan” runs almost two hours long and the pacing lags badly in the last third. After the adrenaline rush of the first half, you start to feel numb to the characters' continued bad luck and the film's endless barrage of high-octane zombie chaos. 

Ultimately, “Train to Busan” is another one of those critically acclaimed, foreign-language genre films I admire more from a technical prospective. Yeon Sang-ho is clearly a talented director and he engineers some truly impressive set pieces here. Yet the movie lacks much in the way of heart, its emotional center even veering towards the sappy near the end. Meanwhile, the sociological aspect of the film simply regurgitates the same points George Romero had been making since the sixties. While I liked the film, I didn't love it. I'm also the odd man out on this one. “Train to Busan” has, thus far, produced two follow-ups. “Seoul Station,” an animated prequel, was also released in 2016. Meanwhile, the proper sequel, known as “Peninsula,” was released in Asia earlier this year to much hype and success. I thoroughly expect the COVID era to lead to another wave of zombie flicks, making the “Train to Busan” series the predecessor of more to come. [7/10]

Amityville II: The Possession (1982)

Having spawned a best-selling book and a blockbuster movie, “The Amityville Horror” was ready to become a full-blown phenomenon. Two other books would quickly follow Jay Anson's quasi-fictional novel: “Murder in Amityville” by Hans Holzer, which focused on Ronald DeFeo Jr.'s murder of his family, and “The Amityville Horror Part II” by John G. Jones, a direct sequel continuing to chronicle the supposed supernatural events the Lutz family suffered. Producers were eager to capitalize on the film's popularity as well. Eventually, an unholy union between Dino De Laurentiis and the remnants of A.I.P. would choose to adapt “Murder in Amityville” for the next film. George Lutz actually sued to ensure his name and image was not used to promote a movie that had nothing to do with his family. Anyway, “Amityville II: The Possession” would possess theaters in fall of 1982.

Though ostensibly based on events that happened before the original movie, “Amityville II: The Possession” does not seem to be a prequel. The pivotal role a Sony Walkman – not put into production until 1979 – plays confirms the setting firmly as the early eighties. The family is named the Montellis, not the DeFeos, and the events bare no resemblance to the flashbacks we see in the original “Amityville.” So I guess the Montelli family moves into 112 Ocean Avenue after the Lutzes fled in terror. The already troubled family becomes even more deeply disturbed upon arriving at their new homes. Strange events happen and horrible visions plagued the mother. Oldest son Sonny comes under the sway of a demonic force that lives in the house. It compels him to seduce his sister and murder his family. Only Catholic priest Father Adamsky seems willing to fight the great evil here.

The first “Amityville Horror” approached its soundly unimpressive terrors with an utterly melodramatic hand. “The Possession,” all too aware of sequel escalation, decides to ramp up the “Horrors” considerably while keeping the histrionics. The supernatural events that go down in 112 Ocean Avenue here are so immediate, persistent, and severe that you wonder why anyone would live here for even an hour. Minutes after moving in, the mom sees blood pouring from the sink. A pit of flies and raining excrement is discovered the next day in the basement. Guns go off on their own, paintings appear on the wall, objects move, thunder and rain crashes constantly. Father Adamsky's initial attempt to bless the house is derailed when he sees blood gush from his holy water sprinkler. The house in “Amityville II” is so obviously evil that only the most foolish of families would ever tolerate it. The film depicts these events with the most over-the-top pomp and circumstance possible, creating an utterly ridiculous motion picture more likely to generate laughs than screams.

As a horror movie, “Amityville II: The Possession” is nothing less than hysterically overdone. As a drama about a seriously fucked-up family, it's so depraved as to become genuinely unnerving. Within the opening minutes, the father – played by Burt Young at his most blustery – is belittling and emotionally abusing Sonny. After a spat of poltergeist activity, the same dad brutally whips his younger children with a belt. The wife is traumatized by her husband's behavior, causing her to shriek frequently. This is a family that communicates exclusively in screaming arguments and passive-aggressive retorts. “The Possession” reaches the peak of its degeneracy when Sonny seduces Patricia, his teenage sister. It's a scene that is so drawn-out, the details of their flirtation so focused on, that the viewer can't help but cringe. The depravity of the Montelli family is such that otherwise normal scenes, like Sonny's birthday party or the younger kids playing, come off as disturbing by association. (I honestly wonder if Ari Aster is a fan of this one, as its mixture of demonic influence and domestic chaos reminds me of a less artful “Hereditary” or “The Strange Thing About the Johnsons.”) 

Whose idea was it to insert incest and domestic violence into a sequel to a goofy haunted house movie? Apparently director Damiano Damiani, a respected filmmaker of Italian crime dramas, wanted to upset audiences. His initial cut apparently included the dad sodomizing the mom, which was thankfully cut. I really didn't need to see the face Pauly makes when butt-fucking some poor woman... It must be said that, as overcooked as the sequel is, Damiani knew how to make a good-looking film. The interior of the Amityville house is awash in cool blues and expressive shadows. The numerous first-person shots of the demonic force moving through the building are cool. The sequence where Sonny murders his family is dramatically lit. In its last act, “The Possession” becomes an “Exorcist” rip-off and that's when Damiani ramps shit up even further. Squirming boils of body horror sprout form under people's skin. A demonic monster claws its way from under Sonny's face. Flames explode on the outside of the house. All the viewer's senses are hammered and, if nothing else, I admire Damiani's gumption.

Despite Ed and Loraine Warren, those proponents of Catholic propaganda, getting “demonology advisers” credits, “The Possession” pretty soundly condemns the Church. Father Adamsky is a massive fuck-up who is always too late to save anyone. He even graduates to criminal acts in the last act. (But watch out for a cameo from “The Monster Squad's” Scary German Guy as the bishop.) Still an achingly dumb and completely ridiculous motion picture, “Amityville II: The Possession” is, at the very least, less tedious than its predecessor. Its mixture of childishly excessive boo-show antics and sincerely disquieting content is too eccentric to be all-together boring. I use to watch this one on TV a lot but networks cut most of the incest out. Really, to appreciate “Amityville II,” you have to see all the sister fucking. [6/10]

Creepshow: Gray Matter / House of the Head

Since 2013, I've been watching and reviewing “Tales from the Crypt” for the Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-thon. The pun-cracking Cryptkeeper became such a standard part of my Halloween marathons that, after watching my way through all seven seasons of that show, I continued on to the various spin-offs. Having consumed almost every bit of televised Cryptkeepr content now, I've had to move on to other programs... Luckily, Shudder has arrived with just the thing to fill the E.C. Comics-shaped void in my haunted heart. The streaming network's “Creepshow” series premiered to much hype last year. I even reviewed one of the six episodes already. This year, I decided to watch the rest of season one. 

Each episode of “Creepshow” contains two stories, hosted by the gruesomely grinning but silent Creep in comic book-style wraparounds. The first half is devoted to “Gray Matter,” based on a Stephen King story. It concerns a young boy stepping into a grocery store just as a hurricane barrels down on the town. He proceeds to tell the shopowner about his loving father's transformation into a desperate alcoholic... And his further transformation into something else. The second story is “House of the Head,” from “Bird Box” scribe Josh Malerman. It concerns a little girl with a beloved doll house. She imagines a whole life for the little doll family that lives in the tiny home. Soon, though, a disturbing presence takes up residence in the girl's miniature building.

“Gray Matter” is directed by Greg Nicotero, the show's co-creator and veteran effects man. By structuring most of the episode as a flashback, it allows Nictero to show off a moody side. It's only through the boy's eyes that we see the shadowy story of his father's metamorphosis. The eventual reveal of what's happening to dad pays off in a big burst of gooey special effects. Which is fun in a traditionally E.C. Comics way and cleverly blends CGI and latex. As a metaphor for watching a parent consumed by alcoholism, “Gray Matter” is a little drippy. More time probably should've been paid to the normal parts of the father/son bond, before shit gets weird. The segment does make good use of Tobin Bell and Adriene Barbeau. 

As solid an opener as “Gray Matter” is, “House of the Head” proves to be the far spookier experience. Cailey Flemming is excellent as the little girl who finds her toy collection haunted by an errant zombie head. The way she creates a whole imaginary world around her little dolls is so vividly brought to life. To see that violated by a disturbing intrusion is truly creepy. The way this is depicted, the dolls moving into new positions off-screen every time she turns her back, is an excellent way to convey that feeling. There's something quietly unsettling about this tale of childhood innocence being disrupted, director John Harrison – who composed the score for the original “Creepshow” movie – focusing more on quiet spookiness over shocking jump scares. As a toy collector myself, I'll admit the premise of an unsettling intruder among a collection of figures hits close to home for me. [Gray Matter: 7/10] [House of the Head: 8/10]

Forever Knight: Black Buddha, Part 1

With the start of a new Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-thon, it's time for me to get back to watching “Forever Knight.” The nineties vampire cop show, following the adventures of redemptive bloodsucker turned Canadian officer-of-the law Nick Knight, would go through some changes in its third season. A letter writing campaign by fans was what got the low-rated show a second season. Cancellation was in the air once again after the season ended but another fan campaign saw the show picked up by the USA Network. Not all the cast members would stick around after the network leap. John Kapelos as Schanke, Nick's comic relief partner, Deborah Duchene as his on-again-off-again vampire girlfriend Jenette, and Natsuka Ohama as the police captain would leave the show. This forced some narrative changes.

Which the show addresses directly in the season opener, “Black Buddha, Part 1.” Nick drives Detective Tracy Vetter, the police chief's daughter and a novice detective, to the airport. They plan to meet Schanke and Captain Cohen there. Instead, the plane is destroyed by a bomb aboard. Nick and his coroner love interest Natalie barely have time to mourn the death of Schanke. Tracy spots a dead body get up and leave the wreckage. It turns out she just spotted a vampire, who quickly abducts her. While processing his grief, and considering leaving town, Nick thinks back to a supposedly cursed artifact he came across while sailing on the Titanic. 

Getting past the departure of Kapelos, who has been with the series since the pilot movie “Nick Knight,” is admittedly awkward. Schanke only appears as a postmortem photograph, Nick having a one-sided phone conversation with him early on. (Blu Mankuma, a veteran voice actor who I recognized immediately as “Beast Wars'” Tigatron, steps into the role of police captain.) The story has to keep moving forward, not really allowing the death of such a major character time to breath. Instead, a lot of “Black Buddha, Part 1” is devoted to introducing Tracy. Lisa Ryder has a bubbly energy in the part but the show's attempts to make her interesting – immediately getting scooped up by another vampire – doesn't endear much interest. The mad bomber subplot also has to be squeezed in here, failing to generate much interest. The flashback scenes, showing Geraint Wyn-Davis angsting on the Titanic while an aristocrat lady asks to be turned into a vampire, are a little more interesting. It's definitely a slightly off-center note to begin the season on. [6/10]

Halloween 2020: September 19th

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920)

For the last seven years, I have kicked off my Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-thon with a silent film. This seems fitting to me, to begin my yearly horror pilgrimage in the days of the genre's cinematic roots. If we are talking classic horror stories of the silent era, few were more popular than Robert Louis Stevenson's “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” There were at least twenty adaptations of the novel during the silent years alone. The most well regarded of these voiceless versions of Stevenson's tale is the 1920 one from Paramount, starring John Barrymore. (To show you how common Jekyll and Hyde were during the silent days, this isn't even the only version of the story from that year.) I first saw this particular take years ago, when I was first exploring silent horror, and wasn't much impressed with it. But perhaps my opinion will change with time, I figured.

You all know the story by now. Of the saintly physician Dr. Henry Jekyll, who becomes obsessed with the duality of man and concocts a potion to contain his baser instincts, accidentally birthing a vile alter-ego by the name of Mr. Edward Hyde. Perhaps time would be better spent summarizing how this version is different from Stevenson's oft-adapted book. Like most adaptations do, Jekyll receives a love interest here, a finance named Millicent. In an interesting touch, her father is the man who unknowingly sends Jekyll down the path towards becoming Hyde, by introducing him to London's night life. Despite being upfront with Jekyll and Hyde's true identities, as all adaptations are, this adaptation still weirdly maintains some of the mystery elements from Stevenson's book. 

My biggest issue with 1920's “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” now and when I first watched it, is how wordy it is. An over-reliance on title cards is the biggest mistake a silent movie can make. Here, there are frequent dialogue cards interrupting the flow of the story. Worst yet, longer description cards often flash on-screen, explaining events that are going to happen or just happened. What's most frustrating about this approach, is it causes some plot relevant information to be depicted totally off-screen. For example, we only hear about Mr. Hyde's night time acts of depravity, instead of seeing even a smidgen of them depicted. I know film was still pretty young in 1920 but, surely, even by then they knew to show, not tell?

As a fan of classic horror, and especially silent horror, I've grown quite use to the amount the melodrama that piles up in these old films. Yet even by that standard, this “Jekyll and Hyde” is pretty egregious. The romantic subplot is drearily overblown, Millicent spending long portions of the film pining for Jekyll. This is despite a noticeable lack of chemistry between the two, as Jekyll is depicted as so saint-like here, it's hard to imagine him having romantic feelings for anyone. Adding to this is the lack of attention given to the dance hall girl, Hyde's romantic obsession. The film depicts her as slutty and wanton, the filmmakers clearly thinking she gets what she deserved. This melodramatic atmosphere is encapsulated in John Barrymore's performance. Barrymore gesticulates wildly, reaching for the heavens, stretching his limbs, and collapsing to the floor. It's an utterly unbelievable, almost comedic bit of acting. 

So what does work about 1920's version of “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” This version of the story was somewhat pioneering for how grotesque it makes Mr. Hyde. Unlike in other versions, up to this point, Hyde grows more deformed and depraved looking the longer he exists. He goes from having simply witch-like fingers, to a deformed head, a hunchback, twisted legs, and seriously bad teeth. The big finale, where Hyde is at his most inhuman looking menaces Millicent, is definitely a highlight of the film. So is the dream sequence where a giant spider crawls into bed with Jekyll, symbolizing Hyde taking control of his sleeping body. There's also some of that expressionistic atmosphere I love so much, in the scenes of Hyde wandering through the slanting buildings of Victorian London. 

Ultimately, my opinion of 1920's “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” remains largely unchanged. It is an adaptation bogged down with too much text and melodrama. While many have praised Barrymore's performance over the years, I'm not a fan. Honestly, the acting here sums up everything I dislike about silent movie performances. Act with your eyes, not your hands, man. Having said that, the make-up and more dreamy touches are pretty great. (And were considered especially shocking in its day.) This version of “Jekyll and Hyde,” in my eyes, proves most noticeable for heavily influencing the 1931 adaptation with Fredrick March, my vote for best take on the material. Though, if nothing else, this is a better “Hyde” than King Baggot or Spencer Tracy. [5/10]

Strait-Jacket (1964)

The king of Gimmick Horror, William Castle, began his independent career making hokey ghost stories, gothic thrillers, and monster movies. After “Psycho” came out, he correctly realized that unhinged killers and bloody murder were the future of the genre. Following “Homicidal,” his most blatant “Psycho” emulation, Castle would create another story of madness and dismemberment. “Strait-Jacket” would bring two other key figures into the fold. The first of which was Robert Bloch, the writer of “Psycho,” which lent the project a little more esteem. The second was Joan Crawford, well into the psycho biddy portion of her career. The combination would result in another campy classic.

Twenty years ago, Lucy Harbin came home to discover her husband in bed with another woman. Her immediate reaction was to take a fire axe and hack both of their heads off. Her daughter, Carol, was the only witness to the crime. Now, after two decades in a mental institute, Lucy has been set free. She goes to live with her now adult daughter on an isolated ranch. Lucy does her best to re-adapt to life but is haunted by disturbing nightmares and unsettling visions, all reminding her of her crime. Carol wonders if her mom is truly better. When heads start getting lobbed off again, she really begins to fear that mom has gone crazy again.

A number of factors elevate “Strait-Jacket” above many of the other psycho biddy flicks Crawford would star in during the twilight of her career. Bloch's script goes through quite a few expected beats, causing the audience to question Lucy's brittle grip on sanity before an easy-to-predict twist ending shows not everything is as it appears. Inside this standard thriller construction is a touching story of a mother and daughter attempting to reconnect. When Lucy and Carol first meet, they silently hug each other, looks of joys on their faces. Carol does her best to make her mother comfortable, while Mom attempts to assimilate into her daughter's new life. Yet the traumas of the past are not so easily escaped, tension often cropping up between them. This kind of struggling parent/child relationship is a strong foundation to build a horror story upon. If you want to take a meta approach, one can't help but wonder if Joan saw her own mother/daughter struggles in this material.

Or maybe Joan Crawford was just happy that her newfound horror stardom kept the paychecks rolling in. As was expected of the hag horror subgenre by this point, the performances are on a largely histrionic level. More than once, the script calls on Joan Crawford to shriek and prattle on manically, which she is more than able to do. She cracks up during a social party with Carol and her boyfriend. When confronted by the potential groom's parents, she wails in tear-strewn anger and fear. It's totally over-the-top which is, of course, totally fitting to the material. “Strait-Jacket” is high camp and that's exactly the level Crawford's performance is on. It's very entertaining to watch. 

As campy as “Strait-Jacket” is, it's also pretty effective as a horror movie. The film's scares operate in two modes. Castle creates a number of sequences in which we assume Lucy's fractured view of the world. She hears little girls jumping rope and singing a rhyme about her murders. She has nightmares of severed heads in her bed. The best sequence is a moment when a dressing room becomes a boxed-in prison cell. Yet, at other times, “Strait-Jacket” essentially operates like an early example of the slasher movie. Shadowy stalking sequences, the best of which occurs in a dark bedroom, climax with axes to heads. The film even includes an on-screen decapitation, which was pretty graphic by 1964's standard. A scene involving white sheets on a clothing line might've influenced “Halloween.” If you doubt the movie's slasher status, the killer even wears a mask which gets dramatically pulled off at the climax..

Being a William Castle flick, “Strait-Jacket” came packaged with a memorable gimmick. Attendees received a small, cardboard axe with every ticket purchased. Maybe not as cool as joy buzzers in the seats or Emergo but, if you can find a surviving one, I bet it would go for big money on eBay. “Strait-Jacket” probably could've been a serious shocker, as it has some effective black-and-white photography and a score with some spooky, whispery choir sounds. Castle and Crawford were more than happy to settle on campy fun though. The director makes sure you understand that, as he includes numerous moments of Crawford posing melodramatically with scissors or knives. (And ends the film on a pretty good joke, by decapitating the Columbia logo.) Ain't nothing wrong with campy fun though, especially on the first day of the Six Weeks of Halloween. [7/10]

The Amityville Horror (1978)

In 2020, all but the most gullible proponents of the supernatural accept that the Amityville Horror was an elaborate hoax. The bizarre events said to terrify the Lutz family after they moved into 112 Ocean Avenue, as recounted in Jay Anson's eponymous book, was a scheme cooked up by Ronnie DeFio's defense attorney. Yes, DeFio really did kill his family and the Lutz really did briefly live in the house. That's where the factual elements of Anson's book ends and the fiction begins. Despite how widely discredited the story was, even in 1979, that didn't stop the motion picture adaptation of “The Amityville Horror” from being wildly successful. In fact, the film became American Independent Pictures' highest grossing release. 

I read Anson's book this past summer in preparation for this review and, I have to say, I found it pretty poorly written. Anson's screenplay improves on his source material but follows more or less the same outline. Ronnie DeFeo murders his whole family in November of 1974. One year later, the Lutz family – husband George, wife Kathy, and kids Matt, Greg, and Amy – move in. Weird shit begins happening almost immediately. Flies buzz constantly inside. Amy communicates with an unseen entity called “Jody.” A Catholic priest is driven from the house and suffers multiple maladies. George begins to act strangely. A foreboding red room is discovered in the basement. Soon, the family has to contend with the possibility that their home is haunted by evil spirits. 

Anson and the rest of the team that devised the “Amityville Horror” hoax intentionally patterned the fabricated details after recent horror mega-hits like “The Exorcist” and “The Omen.” Director Stuart Rosenberg – previously of “Cool Hand Luke” – clearly wants to scare the audience. He throws in multiple horror cliches, such as a spring-loaded cat, a dark and stormy night, demonic voices, and a kid singing spooky songs. The delivery is utterly histrionic. The Catholic priest has one misfortune after another – boils on the hands, sickness, vehicle troubles, blindness – visited on him, all delivered in the most overheated fashion possible. This, weirdly, contrasts with the film's muted terrors. Most of these “Horrors” are strictly underwhelming. Flies buzzing around a house, black gunk bubbling up from the toilets, vomiting nuns, and fuzzy phone lines are not exactly the stuff of nightmares. Minor bad luck being played as great horror is funny, not scary. 

The film works best when it dials down the over-the-top touches a bit. As the Lutz family are introduced to the different rooms in the house, quick shots of the murders that took place there flash on-screen. Rosenberg's direction occasionally creates a really nice moment, when a gliding tracking shot going from room to room implies a supernatural presence, without showing any explicit effects. The same thing happens during a shot of Kathy sitting in the kitchen, an unusual breeze picking her hair up. Scenes like this, that emphasize a sense of wrongness in what is supposed to be someone's home, are “The Amityville Horror” at its most effective. Two of the spookiest moments were invented for the film: The babysitter getting trapped in a closest and the bleeding walls, which play off a common fear that's easy to relate to and a just plain unnerving visual. The subtler scares prove more effective... And I can't believe I'm referring to bleeding walls as “subtle” but here we are.

Considering the mood of hysterics that permeates “The Amityville Horror,” it should not be surprising that most of the performances are similarly over-the-top. Margot Kidder's generally cute take on Kathy Lutz is the exception. Most notably, Rod Steiger screams to the rafters, sometimes literally, as the unlucky priest. He spends the entire movie shouting, gasping, panting, and overacting wildly. This is far from the only anguished screaming in the film, as James Brolin as George also wails that the house is “tearing him apart.” Yet even if Brolin's performance was more down-to-Earth, it would've been hard to overcome the simple fact that George Lutz is an asshole. Oh, sure, the demon possessed house is influencing his behavior. It's still hard to root for the guy who yells at his step-kids, ignores his wife, neglects his job, punches a friend, and obsess over firewood, regardless of the reason.

We've established that “The Amityville Horror” isn't especially well written or that effective as a horror movie. Why did it resonate with the public so much? In “Danse Macabre,” Stephen King supposes that the film proved a potent metaphor for anyone whose newly purchased dream home turned into a money pit. Leaks, plumbing problems, faulty windows, heating issues, and persistent pests are all much more indicative of a home in disrepair than a haunted house. There's even a prominent moment were 1500 dollars disappears, making the subtext of the house ruining the family's finances rather literal. Much like “The Exorcist” before it, “The Amityville Horror” also sees its non-religious family fleeing back into the arms of traditional Catholicism when faced with the supernatural. (Though, as in “The Exorcist” and “The Omen,” whether those beliefs have any actual power against the devil is debatable.)  Which definitely speaks to the cultural trends of the time, a reaction to the rise of new age practices and a general snapback from the freedom of the hippy movement.

And it's through this lens, as a cultural artifact, that “The Amityville Horror” proves most interesting. Otherwise, it's a relatively goofy haunted house flick that is painfully overacted and trying way too damn hard. It's also way too damn long, running nearly too hours. All I can figure is this was another attempt by A.I.P. to imitate the prestige horror of “The Exorcist.” All the film really has going for it is some bleeding walls, Kidder's performance, Lalo Schaflin's score – which is effectively spooky, when it doesn't focus on shrieking strings – and the house itself. That face-like structure, with the front windows starring like eyes, is absolutely an unforgettable image. And, hey, the film is at least a little less tedious than the book that inspired it. [5/10]

Noroi: The Curse (2005)

Most likely, the found footage film will likely be remembered as the defining horror trend of the early 2010s. Before that, in the slightly earlier 2000s, Japanese ghost movies made an indelible impact on the genre. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for someone to mash the two subgenres up. In fact, director Kōji Shiraishi – of the later “Carved: The Slit-Mouth Woman” – would create “Noroi: The Curse” two full years before “Paranormal Activity” caused the found footage approach to blow up. “Noroi” has since gone on to become one of the better regarded films of the genre. Which makes it as good a choice as any to watch on the first day of the marathon.

In 2004, Masafumi Kobayashi, a maker of paranormal documentaries, vanished in a house fire. Before this incident, Kobayashi was creating a doc called “The Curse,” a screening of which comprises the majority of the film. While investigating strange noises and psychic powers, Kobayashi uncovered a legend surrounding Shimokage, a village that was destroyed when a dam was built in the seventies. Supposedly, the villagers summoned a demon named Kagutaba, which they had to appease once a year with a ritual. Now, it would seem Kagutaba has re-emerged, drawing Koyagashi, a local eccentric, a telepathic young girl, and a young actress into a web of supernatural terror. 

A lot of found footage horror films use the format simply as a gimmick or a cost-saving measure. “Noroi: The Curse” puts an interesting spin on the idea. By presenting the bulk of the feature as a lost made-for-TV paranormal doc, it allows the film to have traditional elements like a score or dramatic editing. Moreover, this format actually adds to the creepiness factor. By contrasting a relatively common place thing – like a TV documentary about ghosts – with genuinely disturbing paranormal activity, the film feels like something really creepy the audience stumbled across on late night TV. It's an effectively spooky idea to present, “Noroi: The Curse” taking some obvious cures from “Ghostwatch” and maybe even improving on some aspects of the style. 

The main reason “Noroi: The Curse” is such an effective horror picture is the sheer amount of creepy images and ideas on display. The Kagutaba demon is represented with a carved wooden mask, which looks both alien-like and fetal, that subconsciously appears throughout the film. The found footage style is especially effective when a ghostly figure is glimpsed in the background. Or during the vintage recording of the demonic ritual. Creepy incidents, like a woman randomly going into a choking posture, as if she's being hanged, occur often. The film successfully establishes a tone of creeping dread, most notably when the village's dogs – already established to keep evil spirits away – are strewn through the forest, all dead. It all leads up to the disturbing image of ghostly fetal creatures gathering around a child. The special effects and lo-fi presentation combine to make this particular sight look practically real. 

It's a really good thing that “Noroi: The Curse” has such an effective presentation and so much spooky imagery at its disposal. Plot-wise, the movie gets pretty murky. Shiraishi packs the story with enough incidents for two movies. The subplot about psychic research slithers in and out of the movie whenever the plot needs it. Creepy stuff, like sleepwalking, psychic hangings, dead birds, or curling spirals, seem to be here more because it's spooky than because it makes much sense. A mention of illegal abortions and stolen fetal matter pops up out of nowhere. Despite the convoluted story, “Noroi” still takes regular stops for exposition dumps to explain its lore to us. (Though the mockumentary format at least justifies that to a degree.) The film really should've focused on the demonic angle and simplified its script a bit.

Then again, plot coherence and tonal consistency are not so important in Japanese horror films. A tone of unsettling grimness and some potent ghostly images should probably be enough for any horror movie. Unsurprisingly, that combo has won “Noroi” quite a few fans. The film would be distributed across the gray market before Shudder finally picked up its streaming rights, giving it an official release stateside. (A home media release still has yet to emerge.) Shiraishi has gone on to other notable projects, including another well-regarded found footage flick called “Cult.” Maybe I'll check that one out someday. Despite a largely incoherent plot. “Noroi: The Curse” is still an enjoyably creepy time. [7/10]

The Skeleton Dance (1929)

Like a lot of people, I signed up for Disney+ not too long after it launched. While I have increasingly negative feelings towards Disney's behavior as a corporation, I remain a fan of many of their films and shows. The streaming service has a few examples of spooky or spooky-adjacent programming. Including previously reviewed paranormal kids show “So Weird,” its first official re-release of any type and the main reason I signed up for the service. Or TV movies like “Mr. Boogedy,” “Don't Look Under the Bed,” and the “Halloweentown” series.  But it could be better! Where's “Watcher in the Woods?” Where's “Something Wicked This Way Comes?” Where's “The Skeleton Dance,” one of the studio's most iconic short films from all the way back in 1929? 

Like a lot of early Disney shorts, “The Skeleton Dance” doesn't have much in the way of story. As a church bell strikes midnight, the skeletons in the neighboring cemetery leap to life. They proceed to dance, play music, and engage in physical comedy with one another until the rising sun forces them back into their graves. Of course, images of frolicking skeletons were not anything new, even in 1929. “The Skeleton Dance” is the most whimsical adaptation of the medieval idea of the Danse Macabre – people of all social statuses being united in the commonalty of dying and rotting – you're likely to see. Instead, Walt Disney and animator Ub Iwerks would mostly use the set-up as an excuse for wacky slapstick. 

There's two things I really admire about “The Skeleton Dance.” First off, it squeezes in a lot of classical Halloween imagery into its brief five minute run time. The short opens with the image of a hooting owl, a spooky tree with hand-like branches, and a glowering full moon. We move onto fang-faced bats, creepy crawly spiders, yawing black cats, and – of course – tombstones and skeletons. Really, all that's missing are the jack o'lanterns and a cackling witch. Secondly, “The Skeleton Dance” exaggerates its bony characters to the point where they become grotesque monstrosities. The skeletons' limbs stretch and shrink, in twisting fashions. The skeletons take each other apart and reassembles themselves into xylophones or hideous horse-like creatures. It's genuinely a bit eerie, though largely unintentionally I think.

Though admittedly a bit dated from a modern perspective, “The Skeleton Dance's” animation and music largely still looks great. The amount of cartoony detail built into this short is still impressive, while the music score is catchy. This would be the first of Disney's long-running and highly successful Silly Symphonies series, must of which favored music and animation over story. Disney has not acknowledge the dancing skeletons as much as some of their other spookier characters over the years but there's been the occasional nod. It's available through Disney's official Youtube page, though its public domain status – one of the few Disney products whose copyright was been allowed to lapse – means it can be found all sorts of places. Iwerks was so fond of the short, he could remake it in color in 1937 as “The Skeleton Frolic.” That one is also good, technically stronger, but the original is hard to beat for its spooky, scary energy. [7/10]

Halloween 2020: Preamble

The time has come to tell the tale.

Obviously, 2020 did not go the way anyone was anticipating. I'm not going to regurgitate the horrifying details but living through major historical events is utterly exhausting. Is this what people in the late sixties felt like? With the state of the world and my country being what it is, autumnal holidays and rituals must seem entirely trivial. Some have even gone so far as to say that 2020's Halloween is canceled. 

To me, this is, of course, a ridiculous statement. Yeah, the kids probably won't be able to trick-or-treat in 2020. The pandemic might just be the final nail in the coffin for that faltering tradition, which makes me deeply sad. Halloween parties, parades, haunted attractions, and other community gatherings will surely be greatly discouraged this year. But here's the truth – and this is so true, that there aren't many things I believe more – we need Halloween more than ever this year.

I saw a meme a while ago, which captioned a picture of Homer Simpson starring in dumbfound shock with “me after reading the news.” The second image was Homer sleeping snugly in bed, which was captioned “me after watching a horror movie.” There's been some research into the topic of how people with anxiety actually operate better during tragic situations. When you spend every waking hour mentally preparing for the worst, you may find yourself more ready when the worst actually happens. As a deeply nervous person, I find my love of horror is rooted in similar feelings. Horror is validating. Horror tells you everything isn't going to be okay. In the cases where the struggle is overcome, when the monster is vanquished, it feels more earned. 

As the holiday most closely associated with the macabre, Halloween fills me with similar feelings. I've rambled on before about the spiritual significance this season has for me. Maybe a holiday devoted to honoring those that passed before us, to connecting us with the dead, to letting the spooky into our lives for six weeks, is especially needed right now. The thought that Halloween could be canceled is absurd. Halloween isn't a day. It isn't a handful of celebratory get-togethers. Halloween is a state of mind. Halloween is a way of life. It lives inside us, within our hearts.

Even my bath room is decorated for Halloween!

Celebrating Halloween, looking forward to celebrating Halloween, often keeps me sane through the first nine months of the year. I needed a lot of sanity in 2020. So here we are at the Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-thon. I'm going to watch as many horror movies as I can in the next six weeks. I am going to pig out on candy, junk food, and cider. I am going to indulge in every spooky thing I responsibly can. Holy fuck, do I need it this year. 

Now that we've established why the Halloween Horror-fest Blog-a-thon is such a necessity for me this year, let's talk about what it will entail. As always, I've got plenty of plans. For a while now, I've been wanting to expose myself to one of those horror series with a ton of entries despite nobody seeming to actually like them. Largely out of a sense of morbid curiosity and, I don't know, masochism. After debating whether I wanted to suffer through every “Children of the Corn” or “Amityville Horror” movie, I finally decided to sit through the haunted house flicks. Granted, I am limiting myself to the ten “official” entries in the series. Due to the public domain status of the “true” Amityville story, there's at least fifteen additional films which have the word Amityville in the title but nothing else to do with the notorious case. (A new one comes out next month.) I won't be watching those. I don't hate myself that much.

In addition to that sure-to-be-arduous trek, I've decided to watch two other horror series that, while not quite that long-running, have always baffled me with their longevity. That would be the “Species” and “Wishmaster” films. Both of those tally four installments, so it won't add too much to my watch list. JD, my former podcast co-host and best buddy, has been trying to get me to watch the “Wishmaster” movies for years, so I guess I”m finally doing that.

This year, I'll also be doing something I've long wanted to do. The great Jose Mojita Marins – otherwise known as Coffin Joe, Brazil's first horror icon – passed away this year. Many of his films are hard-to-find here in America but, thanks to some friends of mine, I've managed to collect all of the Coffin Joe flicks as well as a few of Marins' other horror movies. That's going to be a wild journey through the mind of an obscure, sleazy genre visionary. Of course, I've got a ton of other movies on my list for 2020's Six Weeks of Halloween.

SOON

On the TV side of things, I'll be continuing two traditions from last year. That would be watching the final season of vampire cop show, “Forever Knight” and sampling choice episodes from a number of classic anthology shows. In fact, I enjoyed the latter adventure so much last year, I've doubled the number of anthologies I'll be sampling. Last year, I managed to finish my quest to consume every “Tales from the Crypt”-related television episode. But, honestly, I miss those gruesome but ironic E.C. Comic stories. So this year I've decided to watch Shudder's “Creepshow” series as well. It might lack John Kassir cracking cheesy puns via a robot corpse but I think it'll scratch a similar itch.

Normally, I devote paragraphs in these preambles to what horror movies will be out in theaters or what other Halloween-y events I'll be attending throughout the Six Weeks. Obviously, that is not a going concern right now. Most of the year's buzziest new horror releases will, like “Antebellum,” be releasing through V.O.D. or, like “A Quiet Place: Part II” or the new "Candyman," will be coming out at some unspecified point in the future. (Though a few horror releases, like "Come Play" and "The Wolf of Snow Hollow," will be daring film-goers to brave theaters this October.) I will try and catch up with some indie titles that have gotten hype this year. I will not be attending any horror conventions or haunts in 2020 because there aren't any happening. Duh.

Now the table is set. The ritual can begin. Are you ready? Do you have your mask, your grinning Jack-O'-Lanterns? Your black cats? Are you ready to trick-or-treat until you're sick? To raise hell and honor the dead until the vampire bats come back to roost? Good. The gate is open. The spirits live in me. It's okay, they don't bite much. The Autumn Country... I can see it, hear it, taste it. It feels like home. Step inside. The 2020's Halloween Horror-Fest Blog-a-Thon is upon us now.