Halloween 2017: October 28

Snakes on a Plane (2006)

In 2006, “Snakes on a Plane” showed both pros and cons of a movie becoming an internet meme. Since it's been over ten years – yes, really – some of you may not remember. Samuel L. Jackson signed on to the project based on its title, which is also its premise. The internet, subsequently, fell in love. They made art, fan fiction, songs, and animations. When New Line Cinema found out, they re-shot the PG-13 movie to bring it more in line with fans' R-rated expectations. What was formally an unimportant August release became a genuine pop culture phenomenon. I was caught up in this too. I literally bought the T-shirt. When “Snakes on a Plane” came out, it did underwhelming business. This proved that, just because the internet loved a movie, it didn't mean people would actually show up. In the decade since, the movie has been more-or-less forgotten.

So why, exactly, are these snakes on this specific plane? While in Hawaii, Sean sees gangster Eddie Kim beat a federal agent to death. Sean is immediately grabbed by FBI agent Neville Flynn. Sean is dropped on a plane and sent to California to testify against Kim. The crime boss really doesn't want this to happen. He cooks up an especially convoluted plan to make sure the kid doesn't make it to court. Kim smuggles hundreds of highly venomous snakes onto the Boeing 747, giving the passengers pheromone scented leis. When the snakes escape, they are highly aggressive. Now, Flynn has to protect his witness and everyone else on the flight as the deadly snakes became their violent rampage.

The concept for “Snakes on a Plane” was conceived in 1992, by first-time screenwriter David Dalessandro. That was around the time disaster movies were coming back into vogue in Hollywood. Accordingly, “Snakes on a Plane” functions under a similar formula. The first half-hour introduces us to the ensemble cast, the crew and the passengers who will try and survive this ordeal. They are easily understood archetypes: The elderly stewardess nearing retirement, the ambiguously gay male stewardess, the germaphobe rap star, his buffoonish bodyguards, the two little kids, the single mom with a baby, the Paris Hilton-like heiress, the belligerent asshole, the horny pilot. Even Flynn fits the traditional role of a tough but resourceful hero, tossed into a crazy situation. In accordance to these same troupes, there's also a team on the ground, helping to save the day.  So “Snakes on a Plane'” premise is less snakes on a plane and more “Airport... with Snakes.”

“Snakes on a Plane” is not so beholden to formula that it can't have some fun with its ridiculous premise. The late David R. Ellis also directed “Final Destination 2,” an uproarious gore-comedy disguised as a standard sequel. Ellis brings some of that sick humor to this one. The sequence of snakes descending on a couple banging in the bathroom concludes with a milk snake biting the woman's breasts. Later, a snake bites a guy's dick, causing him to theatrically thrash around the bathroom. In a likely nod to “Gremlins,” a snake gets exploded in a microwave. A massive boa constrictor eats both a chihuahua and the asshole who threw it. There's certainly plenty of footage of snakes biting people, leaving convulsing corpses covered in ripened sores. The snakes aren't the only cause of chaos. During a stampede of people, a woman in high heels stomps on a guy's head. After a crowd overwhelms the staircase, some people are impaled. Ellis even throws in some POV shots from the snakes!

Despite featuring quite a lot of reptile-on-human carnage, “Snakes on a Plane” still falls short of its outrageous concept. It's quite obvious that this was a PG-13 movie that was upgraded to an R-rating. Most of the profanity and elaborately gory moments are obvious re-shoots. There are long stretches of the movie that are far less exciting. Such as Samuel L. Jackson heading into the bowels of the plane, trying to get the coolant system back on line. (Jackson's performance is disappointingly subdued, save for a few moments.) The subplot about the team on the ground, trying to locate enough anti-venom, is a total snooze. In addition to that, most of the computer effects have aged incredibly poorly. The CGI snakes look like crap, then and now.

Ultimately, “Snakes on a Plane” was a better internet meme than a movie. In the run-up to the film's release, it was a blast to imagine an entire franchise of films, of Samuel L. Jackson fighting other killer animals on other isolated vehicles. Who wouldn't want to see “Spiders on a Submarine” or “Crocodiles on a Cruise?” Or a prequel, where Jackson's cowboy ancestor fights snakes on the frontier called “Snakes on a Plain?” Fan projects like these were ultimately more creative and enduring than the actual film. What we're left with are a bunch of in-jokes and that amazing central scene that the internet willed into existence. The final film is entertaining, for what it is, but in no way the uniting cult classic people hoped it would be. [6/10]

Lizard in a Woman's Skin (1972)

I need to see more giallo. I really love Italian horror in general but am still woefully under-read when it comes to these gory, crazy murder mystery. “Lizard in a Woman's Skin” seems like a good one to include, this Halloween. It was the first proper horror film from Lucio Fulci, who had previously specialized in comedies and spaghetti westerns. Fulci's next film would be “Don't Torture a Duckling,” which would solidify his transition into a horror director and lead to the likes of “Zombie” and “The Beyond.” Obscure and unavailable in the states for years, “A Lizard in Woman's Skin” has slowly gathered a reputation as a classic of the giallo genre.

Carol Hammond, the daughter of an influential politician, is having strange dreams. The erotic and unnerving visions seem to focus on her next door neighbor, a beautiful woman prone to throwing wild parties. After visiting a shrink, Carol has a dream about murdering the girl next door. The next day, the woman actually ends up dead, in a way that perfectly mirrors Carol's dream. From there, the woman is drawn into a web of lies, deceit, drugs, and sex. Soon, a man begins to chase her, seemingly with murder on his mind.

“Lizard in a Woman's Skin's” dream sequences are clearly the highlight of the film. While most cinematic dreams are too orderly, the erotic nightmares here feel appropriately surreal. Carol wanders through long hallways, full of naked partiers mingling among themselves. She is watched by dead-eyed witnesses, floating in the air. When confronting her dream woman, Fulci's camera oozes and slides with strange motions. The dreams are full of fittingly unexplained elements, like a fascinating sequence where Carol is chased by a huge, mechanical goose. These scenes are just random enough to feel like real dreams. Like dreams, they are inviting, sensual, strange, and frightening. It certainly starts “Lizard in a Woman's Skin” on a very high note. These scenes, accompanied by Ennio Morricone's slithering score, are honestly so good that I'm surprised Fulci directed them. He certainly didn't display artistry like this in his later zombie movies. (Some of the later scenes include tackier tricks, like repeated crash-zooms, that I associated more with Fulci.)

The film never totally leaves the dreaming world behind, even during the later stalk-and-slash scenes you'd expect in a giallo. While being pursued through a hospital, Caorl walks into the startling sight of dogs suspended in the air, cut open, tubes running through their bloody entrails. (This scene disturbed Italian censors so much, they forced the film's effect supervisor to prove they were fake.) Another chase scene begins in the tunnels under a church. The scenes here contrast the blackness of the underground with the stone walls. Soon, Carol is chased up through the building, pass a pair of whirling generators. She accidentally activates the pipe organ before being attacked by a swarm of bats inside the belfry. This effective sequence ends with her arm being brutally slashed by the man. “Lizard in a Woman's Skin” is uncharacteristically lacking in gore for a Fulci movie but that moment is pretty cringe-inducing, as you really feel the blade piercing the skin.

Aside from the stylish murder scenes and a degree of eroticism, what really characterizes the giallo genre is convoluted mystery plots. “Lizard in a Woman's Skin” has a truly incomprehensible one. There are long, fairly droll scenes of police officers and other people talking about the details of the case. There's an on-going subplot about a pair of hippy artist, who talk repeatedly with a young girl, and an unhinged Irishman. Eventually, we learn that Carol was more connected with her neighbor then she first appeared. How it ties together with the dead dogs and the nightmares, I can't tell you. There's a twist ending that seems to muddle things further. The truth is, I don't think anybody watches giallos for the plot anyway.

Also par the course of the giallo genre, the film's lyrical title doesn't have much to do with the actual story. There are no “V”-like reptilian humanoids to be seen here. There's one line of dialogue about a woman's skin hiding a lizard's body. In a broader sense, the title symbolizes Carol's status as someone hiding something, I guess. All these flaws aside, “Lizard in a Woman's Skin” works beautifully at times. Those dream sequences and stalking scenes go a very long way. None of it makes much sense but that barely matters. It's a stylish, creepy, sexy murder-thriller and that's exactly what I want when I pop in an Italian horror flick like this. [7/10]

The Happiness of the Katakuris (2001)

I never know what to make of Takashi Miike. The incredibly prolific director – he recently completed his 100th movie – is probably Japan's premiere cult filmmaker. “Audition” won an international fanbase. His ultra-violent and sexually perverse features, like “Ichi the Killer” and “Visitor Q,” attracted the attention of a certain breed of horror fan. Yet a lot of Miike's work have left me cold. The extreme violence in his film always struck me as self-serving while his frequent disregard for story put me off. More often, I've enjoyed the off-beat stuff in his career more, like the oddball superhero flick “Zebraman.” So I hoped I'd enjoy his dark comedy/horror/musical “The Happiness of the Katakuris” equally.

The Katakuris clan has seen better days. After being fired from their jobs at a shoe factory, Masao and Terue decided to open a roadside bed-and-breakfast. Thus far, the business has been an absolute failure. Daughter Shizue, who falls in love too easily, is recently divorced. Son Masayuki is a petty criminal who has gotten out of prison not too long ago. Grandfather Jinpei, granddaugther Yurie and dog Poochi are just living their lives. Things start to change when a suicidal man arrives at the hotel. After killing himself, the family decides to bury the dead body without telling anyone. Following that incident, people keep dying violently at the Katakuris' hotel. Things escalate quickly.

From everything I've read, “The Happiness of the Katakuris” sounded like a crazy, over-the-top horror/comedy. Maybe something along the lines of “Hausu.” While the film is incredibly strange, the tone is not madcap. In fact, “Happiness of the Katakuris” is actually quite maudlin. Failure is the main theme in the movie. Each member of the family is a screw-up to some degree. The dead bodies are not comedic interruptions so much. Instead, they are the latest roadblock they have to overcome. This challenge ends up uniting them, bringing the film's second theme to mind: The power of family and how that love unites people. When something wacky isn't happening, the film functions like a slow-paced drama about a neurotic family.

Of course, wacky things do happen. The film begins with an incredibly bizarre sequence of a woman yanking a cherub-like creature out of her soup. The winged thing then grabs her uvula. From there, the critter is eaten by a crow, which is eaten by a murderous teddy, and so on. Did I mention these scenes are brought to life with stop-motion effects/ Throughout the film, the characters are replaced with weird stop-motion puppets. This probably happens when an event – a tumble down a cliff side, an erupting volcano – was outside the movie's budget. The death scenes are another bizarrely comic element. They're less outrageous than Miike's regular output would lead you to believe. One death scene involves a sumo wrestler dying while having sex with his ten year old girlfriend – there's that deviant sex Miike loves – smothering her to death with his size. That leads to a mildly amusing bit where they lower the sumo's corpse from a window.

One of the weirdest things about “The Happiness of Katakuris” are the musical numbers. As odd as the movie is, the musical numbers are still presented as dream sequences. I guess singing and dancing would break with even this story's reality. Some of the sequences are quite theatrically realized. When Shizue meets a man claiming to be an American naval officer – he's actually a con artist – they go leaping through the air, declaring their love for one another. When the police arrive for totally unrelated reasons, father and son musically debate over who should take the fall. A memorable scene involves Masao and Terue re-declaring their love for each other via a karaoke sing-along. Probably the most famous scene involves some of the dead bodies rising from their grave, to dance along and provide back-up vocals. Despite how unforgettable these moments are, none of the songs are that catchy. They're pretty forgettable J-pop.

Is Takashi Miike just not my speed? Once again, I watch one of his beloved cult classics and I find myself underwhelmed. This is the kind of thing that should be right up my alley. Instead, it didn't quite work for me. “The Happiness of the Katakuris” is obviously an interesting movie. It's too aggressively weird not to be. I do not besmirch the film it's cult following. Yet the somber tone seems at odds with the wackier elements. It's also pretty weak as a musical. This is a loose remake of a Korean film, called “The Quiet Family,” that approaches the material in a more straight-forward manner. Maybe I'll enjoy that one more? [6/10]

Riley (2015)

I've become a Bex Taylor-Klaus fan while seeing very little of her work. I've never watched a single episode of “The Killing” or “Scream: The Series” and gave up on “Arrow” after the first few episodes. The truth is, I saw Bex on her one episode of “Longmire,” thought she was cute, and have kept an eye on her career ever since. She's beginning to develop a real following. “Riley' was a short she did a few years back and, hey, what do you know, it's a horror movie. Taylor-Klaus plays the titular character, a young woman who happens to be a serial killer. Her latest murder is interrupted when a date arrives a little early. Now, Riley has to distract the guy long enough before he discovers the gruesome truth.

“Riley” was obviously produced very cheaply. I suspect it was shot in the home of one of the key players. Most of the short is devoted to Bex and Vincent Martella, as Riley's date, talking. It's a comedy of manners, as the girl hopelessly attempts to steer her date away from the awful truth. This light-hearted mood is punctuated by a goofy score. The scenes of awkwardness between Klaus-Taylor and Martella are clearly the high-light of the film. Once we get to the actual murders, it becomes a little less interesting. Still, “Riley” is cute enough and definitely worth checking out if you're a fan of the lead actress. [7/10]

Halloween 2017: October 27

Frenzy (1972)

Do you know some people still argue that Hitchcock never directed a horror movie? Okay, my sister's husband once tried to convince me that Hitchcock never directed a horror movie because he's a pretentious ass. I think most people agree that “Psycho” and “The Birds” are obviously horror movies. “Frenzy” also meets the definition of a horror movie, in my opinion. It dives into the mind of a serial killer, focusing to a great degree on the methods of his murder. The director's penultimate movie, some go so far as to consider it his last masterpiece. Whether “Frenzy” is that good or not is a matter of opinion but the film is still certainly well regarded among Hitchcock fans.

A serial killer is prowling the streets of London again. The dead bodies of young women are washing up near Convent Garden. Each of the women were raped before being strangled to death with neckties. The police have no leads. Until the ex-wife of Richard Blaney winds up as the latest victim. Inspector Oxford believes the temperamental and volatile Blaney is their man. However, this isn't the case. The innocuous seeming Bob Rusk is actually the killer. As Richard hides out from the cops, Rusk attempts to cover his latest crimes and reel in a compulsion he has no control over.

Throughout his career, Hitchcock was obsessed with making audiences sympathize with morally ambiguous characters. Norman Bates in “Psycho,” a serial killer the audience can't help but empathize with a little, is only the most famous example. This inclination is taken even further in “Frenzy.” Jon Finch's Richard is the default protagonist of the movie. However, he's a jerk. He's introduced arguing with his boss. Later, he argues with his ex-wife and the wife of a friend. He's an abrasive asshole, a gambler and a drunkard. Barry Foster's Bob, meanwhile, is charming. He's funny and easy-going. The audience immediately likes him. He's also, we learn shortly afterwards, a disgusting rapist and murderer. Whether this is out of a perverse sense of humor or some greater purpose, that's for a full-blown Hitchcock scholar to answer. But it sure is interesting, putting the audience in a very uncertain place.

If this choice is out of a sick sense of humor, “Frenzy” has other comedic elements. The detective pursuing the killer, Inspector Oxford, has a buffoonish wife. She is certainly undergoing a ridiculous gourmet cooking course, making him meals like boiled pig's feet, quail and grapes, and some stew involving squid and eels. He, meanwhile, craves steak and potatoes and a British breakfast. These comedic moments border expertly executed moments of tension. The most famous of which is Bob sneaking into the potato truck carrying his latest victim, to remove his distinctive broach from a corpse's rigor mortis-ed fingers. The scene clatters on as nervously as possible, making the audience wonder if he'll get away with this one. These moments of farce and thrills somehow balance each other out.

Despite being his second-to-last film, “Frenzy” shows Hitchcock is just as strong a stylist as ever.   There are several beautifully filmed segments from “Frenzy.” The best of which is a long shot, showing Bob and a potential victim walking into a building. Hitch's camera tracks the two as they walk, the audience growing more and more aware of what the killer's intention are. As the two enter a room, the camera pulls backwards, out into the street. The viewer perks their ears up, expecting to hear the struggle and screams. This contrast with an earlier assault scene, in which Hitchcock shows us practically everything, with a ferocity that was unspoken of in his career. There's another clever moment, where the camera quickly cuts between a victim's screaming face and Bob undoing his tie.

Due to its graphic content, “Frenzy” has been accused of being sexist, then and now. Since more details about Alfred Hitchcock's treatment of women have come forward, one can't help but read into parts of the movie. Especially a bit where Bob talks about how some woman are “asking for it.” This stuff aside, “Frenzy” remains a highly effective moral mind-screw. It's a first rate thriller and a highly effective dark comedy, brilliantly directed and well acted. [8/10]

Demon Seed (1977)

Once again, I find myself asking the question: What of Dean Koontz? Is he just a second-rate Stephen King or does he actually have merits of his own? Since last asking that question, I have actually read a Koontz novel. One of his earliest novels, “Demon Seed,” was adapted into a film in 1977. In 1997, Koontz would completely re-write the book. The setting would be updated, the story would be softened a bit, and the entire novel would be re-told from the perspective of the insane supercomputer. This is the version I read this past summer. It was an alright book. After reading the novel, I became interested in revisiting the adaptation, which I first saw many years ago.

In Dr. Alex Harris' lab, a highly advanced super computer named Proteus IV waits. Harris has recently separated from his wife, Susan. She is left alone in their home, which is entirely outfitted with cameras, voice-controlled services, and even a robotic butler. Proteus' great mind feels trapped inside the laboratory and finds a way into Susan's home. The artificial intelligence traps Susan inside her own home. The machine demands a way to experience the sensation of the flesh. It creates a plot to impregnate Susan with his off-spring, birthing his consciousness into a human body. Susan must survive Proteus' terrifying tactics if she hopes to escapes.

When I first saw “Demon Seed,” I found it to be a very strange film. That impression hasn't changed much since then. Like many other stories about insane supercomputers, “Demon Seed” aims on the cerebral side of things. There are multiple scenes of the Proteus IV discussing the nature of existence. However, “Demon Seed” frequently veers more towards psychedelic. When Susan is impregnated, the film cuts away to a swirl of bright colors and wide shapes. Proteus' computer brain is repeatedly visualized in a similar way. Sometimes, this odd vibe influences the more grounded segments of the story. In a bit that was apparently in Koontz' original novel, but cut out of the 1997 revision, Proteus builds a giant cubic snake robot in the basement. It's such an odd sight, a geometric shape that can rearrange itself into a killing machine. A lot of “Demon Seed” has that slightly stoned, odd feeling to it.

As an eccentric fusion of science fiction and horror, “Demon Seed” veers between disturbing, pretentious, and ridiculous. Proteus IV's voice, provided by an uncredited Robert Vaughn, reverberates through the house, intoning mysterious and strange commands. Proteus' main tool is a small robot named Joshua. It's essentially a robotic arm attached to an electric wheelchair. Though a simple device, the robot is a surprisingly creepy sight, especially when its manhandling Julia. The scenes where she's strapped down and prodded by the machine are fittingly unnerving. However, a sequence involving a laser is utterly laughable, especially when its defeated with a vanity mirror.

The pretentious element comes forward in the film's treatment of the insane supercomputer. In the book, at least in the 1997 revision, Proteus is unambiguously a villain. He's a computerized sociopath, deeply sexist, who murders when it suits him and frequently goes on crazy rants. Maybe that was different in Koontz' original version, as “Demon Seed” treats Proteus almost sympathetically. When the men in Susan's life finally get the memo and decide to shut the computer down, he's given a monologue about the nature of life, death, and how a digital program approaches it. As opposed to the literary version, Proteus' achieves his goal of creating a child with Susan. It's pretty weird that the film allows the digitized rapist win and doesn't treat that victory as necessarily a bad thing either.

What really makes “Demon Seed” worth seeing is Julie Christie. From the early scenes, Christie is believable as both a victim and a more strong-willed person. She decides to leave her husband back in a really laid-back way. This seems to foreshadow her eventual imprisonment by Proteus. This would seem to set-up a character arc of Susan learning to fight for herself. It seems to be going that way, as Susan resists Proteus for a long time. The script sinks this in the last act, when she willingly accepts the computer's impregnation. Despite that, Christie's performance remains captivating. She is convincingly terrified throughout the story, yet still finds time to give the character an inner life and a more complicated personality.

“Demon Seed” is ultimately an odd one, a film that is off-putting in a way probably not intended by the filmmakers. The film is too pretentious to be a sleazy exploitation flick about a pervy computer. It's also too goofy and backwards to be an intellectual story about the limits of artifical intelligence. Say what you will about Koontz but I think the book is better then the movie. This is another one that could prosper from a remake. It's a shame the found footage fad is over. While reading the book, I thought you could make a solid found footage flick of “Demon Seed,” telling the story entirely through Proteus' security cameras. [6/10]

Vamps (2012)

The uncontrollable fever our culture displayed for vampires over the last decade or so finally seems to have cooled. Even the zombie fad has more-or-less died down, though “The Walking Dead” continues to go on. It would seem ghosts are the favored monsters of the moment. Anyway, the soaring popularity of vampires allowed all sorts of project to get made, as long as they involved bloodsuckers. “Vamps” would reunite Amy Heckerling with her “Clueless” star, Alicia Silverstone, who was hardly a bankable star in 2012. Upon release, the movie received predominately negative reviews and did poorly at the box office. However, a few people have suggested that the film is worth a second look.

Goody was turned into a vampire in 1841 by a sire, which are called “stems” in this film, named Ciccerus. Goody is currently rooming with another vampire, Stacy, who became one of the undead in the late eighties. The two refuse to kill humans, only drinking the blood of animals. They live a relatively happy life in New York's vampire underground. Yet Goody has regrets, especially when she runs into a former lover of her's. Stacy, meanwhile, meets a cute guy at her night school... Who ends up being the son of the Van Helsings. Soon, both vamps have to ask each other questions about what their undead lives mean.

“Vamps” is an extremely goofy comedy. It's full of broad gags build around its characters' status as vampires. Stacy and Goody stick straws in rats and drink their blood like sodas. (This, amusingly, leads to Goody performing a spit-take, with blood instead of water.) After spending all day texting with her boyfriend, Stacy tries to catch a nap from work, hanging outside down from the rafters. When making a quick escape from their apartment, both women crawl down the side of the building, Dracula-style. There are multiple attempts at hypnotism, some of them more successful than others. It's all really silly stuff. However, “Vamps” keeps the gags coming fast enough that the flat ones – some terrible special effects involving skeletons and stretching jaws – are quickly counteracted by the good stuff, like the vampires ordering boxes of native soil off Amazon.

Heckerling's film is also about aging. The film sees the director of classic teen flicks like “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” and “Clueless” encountering modern youth culture. Goody lies about her age, pretending to be from around the same time as Stacy, instead of a hundred years older. She professes bafflement at modern phenomenons like texting, the internet, social media, and abbreviations. At the same time, she nostalgic for other facets of her youth. Like when she comments on the various guises one building has taken over the years. Or how she re-develops feelings for the ex she encountered during her days as a hippy. The ending ultimately forces both women to come to terms with their ages in different ways. It's a natural progression in a career famous for making movies about youth.

A major factor in “Vamps'” favor is the pleasant cast. Alicia Silverstone and Krysten Ritter, as Goody and Stacy, have excellent chemistry together. Not only are the characters best friends but it's evident that Ritter and Silverstone had fun making the movie. Ritter utilizes all her charm in the role of a slightly flighty, if always good-natured vampire. Silverstone is a little more reserved but still likable. Wallace Shawn gets several good moments as Dr. Van Helsing, especially when he poses as a cable repairman. Malcolm McDowell has an amusing small role as Vlad the Impaler, who has taken up knitting in his old age. Weirdly, the only performance that backfires is Sigourney Weaver, as Ciccerus. She gets the worst material in the film, like a crush on a Latin pop star or a groan-worthy gag about Chinese food. To compensate, Weaver goes way over the top, creating a clownish and obnoxious character. I'm frankly shocked that Sigourney is even capable of a performance this bad.

There's a lot of aspects of “Vamps” that are left up in the air. A subplot about Richard Lewis' wife dying of cancer is abruptly wrapped up and never spoken of again. A plotline about the government auditing vampires, trying to force them into the daylight, is seriously underwriten. The emotional ending only works thanks to the strengths of the cast, not the writing. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if “Vamps” was originally planned as a TV show. That would explain some of the underwritten elements. Still, the movie is a lot better than its reviews implies. It's a very campy and goofy, but ultimately still charming, little flick. [7/10]

I Love Sarah Jane (2008)

Once again, I relied on Google's algorithms to provide me with decent horror movie shorts. Once again, I am disappointed. “I Love Sarah Jane” comes from Spencer Susser, right before his mildly acclaimed feature debut “Hesher.” It's set sometimes after a zombie apocalypse has overtaken Australia. A boy named Jimbo rides his bike through the ruined towns. He comes to a friend house, where a zombie is chained up outside. Inside, lives a girl named Sarah Jane. He has a crush on the girl but it's difficult to make a meaningful connection when the world is in the middle of ending.

“I Love Sarah Jane” is what I think you'd get if Harmony Korine directed a zombie movie. The focus on young kids, and the post-apocalyptic setting, reminds me a lot of “Gummo” already. There's a white trash aesthetic to the short, as every one seems sweaty and poorly kept. Most annoyingly, the dialogue is way too heavy on the profanity. I think someone says “fucking” every other line. I get that this is how unsupervised teenagers talk but it quickly grates. The film would be an early role for Mia Wasikowska, as the titular girl, but she can't do much with the thin character. The idea of juvenile delinquents trying to kill time during the zombie apocalypse, primarily by torturing a random ghoul, is a mildly interesting idea. However, that's the only thing “I Love Sarah Jane” has going for it. This premise simply isn't enough to support even a fifteen minute short. [5/10]

Halloween 2017: October 26

A Chinese Ghost Story (1987)

I'll admit, I'm not as well-read in Hong Kong cinema as I'd like to be. Yeah, I love “In the Mood for Love” and “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” as much as the next guy. My exposure to the country's cinema doesn't extend too far beyond that. I'm definitely interested in this stuff though and intend to explore it more some day. Best known for its martial arts cinema, the country's film industry has produced its share of horror pictures. Titles like “Encounters of the Spooky Kind” and “Mr. Vampire” certainly interest me. So did “A Chinese Ghost Story.” It's another one of those movies I've heard about for years, mentioned in reference guides like “101 Horror Movies To See Before You Die” and others, but have never gotten around to seeing. Once again, Halloween is the best time of year to watch stuff like this.

Set in 15th century China, the film concerns Ning Choi-san. A debt collector who isn't very good at his job, he arrives in the countryside and is quickly run out of town. He ends up staying the night in a near-by temple. There, he meets Yin, a Taoist monk and swordsman fighting with a rival. Afterwards, he meets Nip Siu-sin, a beautiful and mysterious young woman. Ning quickly falls in love with her. However, Nip has a secret. She is a ghost who was sold, by her father, to an ancient Tree Demoness living in the woods. Now, the Tree Demon plans to marry Nip off to a great demon king. Ning and Yin have to retrieve her ashes and re-bury them in order to free Nip from these evils.

From what I have seen of Hong Kong cinema, it seems like tonal consistency is not as big a deal in the East as it is over here. “A Chinese Ghost Story” throws several different genres together. It's primarily a supernatural romance with very strong horror elements, due to its crazy ghosts and demons. However, it also feels like a period drama at times. The actions scenes involve the highly aerobatic flips through the airs, proud warriors and bitter rivalries, and crazy sword fights you expect from the wuxia genre.  There are also several scenes of broad comedy. Such as a lengthy scene set in a farcical courthouse or Yin going on a serious monologue, while his face is dripping with monster slime. There's even a musical number, when Yin brags about his ghost-slaying abilities in song! Because of its period setting and fantastical story, the shifting genre landscape “A Chinese Ghost Story” inhabits feels less inconsistent and more like a wild tapestry.

There's certainly no shortage of stuff to interest horror fans in “A Chines Ghost Story.” The movie begins with an “Evil Dead”-style sequence of Nip seducing a traveler before an unseen force rushes at him through the forest. That fluid visual style reoccurs through the film, at one point even flying inside a man's body through his mouth. There's some shambling zombies, who are disposes off in an off-handedly comedic fashion. Towards the last half-hour, “A Chinese Ghost Story” really starts to feature some crazy monster. The Tree Demon attacks via a massive tongue, which creeps up through floorboards and snares people. When that doesn't work, the tongue slip opens to reveal a crocodile-like jaw, which spits glue-like slime. Even that's not enough for the film, as it concludes with a journey into the underworld. A giant demon lord ripping open his robe to reveal a wall of screaming faces is just one thing you'll see down there. It's pretty crazy stuff.

Yet what truly grounds “A Chinese Ghost Story,” beyond the creature effects and the colorful direction, is a genuinely touching romance. Ning Choi-san stumbles into the romance with Nip Siu-sin. Yet he manages to impress the ghost enough during their brief meeting, so that she doesn't kill him. From there, they form an odd bond. He continues to seek her out, even though it's dangerous. Even after learning she's a ghost – something he probably should've picked up on sooner – he remains true to her. The film even gives the two a love scene of sorts, when they are encircled by billowing sheets and hold each other in their arms. That you believe Ning is truly in love with Nip is important, as the last act – where he travels into Hell to save her – wouldn't have been believable otherwise. Leslie Cheung, funny but heartfelt, and Joey Wang, beguiling and vulnerable, are perfect in the parts.

“A Chinese Ghost Story” is a wildly imaginative film, successfully blending horror, action, romance and humor. I'm not sure I was one-hundred percent on its wave length – some of those tonal shifts are super weird – and the plot is pretty loose, which doesn't seem to be unusual for films like this. Over all, I enjoyed it. The film was massively popular in Asia, leading to two sequels, a television series, a remake, and even an animated adaptation. I doubt I'll get to all of that but I probably will give the two sequels a look some day, as they seem to be equally well regarded. [7/10]

Night Warning (1982)

“Night Warning” probably would've been forgotten. Originally released under the title “Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker” – which represents the film no more than “Night Warning” does but is a lot catchier – the film was the sole stab at horror from William Asher, the director behind four of the “Beach Party” movies. It came out in 1982 and was quickly lost among the many slashers being released at the time. Aside from a Saturn Award nomination, it received largely negative reviews. “Night Warning” probably would've been forgotten if it hadn't been one of the 72 horror movies banned in the United Kingdom in 1984. Yes, “Night Warning” is one of the notorious video nasties, films deemed obscene by British censors. Instead of burying the movie, this act made “Night Warning” and many other films way more famous than they would've been otherwise.

Billy Lynch's parents died when he was only a baby, following a fatal automobile crash. He was adopted by his Aunt Cheryl. Cheryl grows creepily attached to Billy over the years. At seventeen years, Billy has a chance to get out of the family home when he becomes eligible for a basketball scholarship. This angers Cheryl, who wants Billy to stay at home forever. Cheryl also feels threatened by Julia, Billy's young girlfriend. Sexually frustrated, Cheryl attempts to seduce a repairman. When he rejects her, Cheryl stabs the man to death. Billy arrives after the murder and is spotted holding a knife and covered in blood. Afterwards, a detective begins to suspect that Billy committed the murder. That's when Aunt Cheryl's grip on sanity slips even further away.

“Night Warning” is a film obsessed with quote-unquote deviant sexuality. Cheryl's obsession with Billy isn't merely paternal in nature. Soon, it's revealed that she's sexually attracted to the boy, explaining her jealousy over his girlfriend. This incestuous turn gets even weirder when we learn that Cheryl is actually Billy's mother, the boy the result of a secret affair with her sister's husband. The film doesn't stop there. The detective leading the investigation is insanely homophobic, dropping the f-slur probably fifty times. He discovers that Billy's gym coach and the dead repairman were both gay. He then accuses Billy of being homosexual, in an especially vulgar way. This subplot barely affects “Night Warning's” story but creates a mood of sexual repression, bigotry, forbidden desires, and disturbing persecution. This is a seedy, uncomfortable film and that was clearly intentional.

What critical recognition “Night Warning” did receive was for Susan Tyrrell's performance as Aunt Cheryl. From the beginning, Tyrrell seems unwell. As the story progresses, she becomes increasingly unhinged. By the final act, she's a screaming, chattering madwoman, chopping up victims and smearing blood around. These more insane moments are balanced with quieter scenes of Tyrrell hiding in the attic and talking with pictures of her dead boyfriend. Tyrrell's acting is clearly above her co-stars. Jimmy McNichol seems almost too innocent as Billy, making his more dramatic moments difficult to believe. Bo Svenson plays the utterly despicable detective in such a way that you believe Svenson probably didn't see the guy as the villain of the piece. That either reflects very well on his acting abilities or poorly on his personality.

As a horror movie, “Night Warning” is less effective. The film has often been classified as a slasher movie but is pretty low on the slashing. It's not until the last act, when Aunt Cheryl really begins to hack up people. The opening car crash, in which a head is torn off by a wayward log, is fairly startling. Otherwise, there's not much gore here, making you wonder why the BBFC objected so much to the film. Director Ascher's directorial choices are odd, as the film slows down and the soundtrack shrieks before the aunt attacks. Occasionally, the movie achieves a low-key sort of tension. When a family friend is sniffing around, while Aunt Cheryl has Billy's girlfriend locked in the basement, is mildly tense. Probably the best sequence int eh film involves Cheryl chasing Julia through a muddy pond, though that's owed more to Tyrrell's performance than anything else.

As a moody examination of sexual frustration, “Night Warning” is sporadically insightful. As a horror movie, it's a bit of a dud, progressing too slowly. Honestly, with a few alteration, the film would've fit in well with the “psycho biddy” movies popular in the sixties and seventies. It's easy to imagine the film with a salacious title like “What's Aunt Cheryl Hiding in the Attic?” or something like that. By the way, the VHSPS DVD of this I grabbed includes the ten minutes of trailers HBO Video tagged on at the end. Ending a movie like this for odd promos for “One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,” a Benny Hill collection, and some music videos by the Tubes makes “Night Warning” even more of a baffling experience. [6/10]

Festival of Family Classics: Jack O' Lantern

For myself and many others, Rankin/Bass' Christmas specials are truly iconic. It's really not December without a visit from Rudolph or Frosty, no matter how stodgy, cheesy, or of questionable quality those specials might be. But did you know Rankin/Bass also made a Halloween special? Sort of? From 1972 to 1973, the studio produced a television show called “Festival of Family Classics.” The animated series showcased half-hour versions of famous stories from the public domain. One of the few installments to stray from the fairy tales and Victorian literature was the fifth episode, entitled “Jack O' Lantern.”

It begins with a grandfather relating an incident from his childhood to his grandkids. One autumn, the fields of the family farm yielded no crops. Something was making the fields barren at night. The kids attempt to create a new scarecrow, wondering if that will help, and carve a jack o' lantern for the head. This awakens a leprechaun spirit inside the pumpkin, calling himself Jack, who uses his magic to help the crops grow. This draws the attention of the witch and her warlock husband, who are responsible for blighting the fields.

Rankin/Bass' “Jack O' Lantern,” disappointingly, does not adopt the Celtic legend of Stingy Jack, the actual origin of the jack o' lantern tradition. I guess the story of a drunken miscreant being denied entrance into both Heaven and Hell, cursed to walk the Earth forever with only a cinder of hellfire to light his way, was too strong for the kiddies. Instead, it's a typically Rankin/Bass-y story about good kids, magical entities, and comical villains. The Irish-accented Jack makes for a mildly entertaining hero, even if his magic tricks resolve every plot point a little too easily. The witches, especially the foppish warlock, are kind of funny and more threatening than the likes of Burgermesiter Meisterburger or Professor Hinkle, though just barely.

As a Halloween special, “Jack O' Lantern” does feature some cool ghosts and spectres, actually referred to as “demons.” It is a little lower on seasonal atmosphere than I hoped. Still, I did enjoy it well enough. You've got to grade these things on a curse, you know.  It holds up better than some of Rankin/Bass' lesser Christmas specials. For the record, “Jack O' Lantern” is the most beloved of the “Festival of Family Classics” episodes, even receiving a DVD release. It would seem I'm not the only one who was crying out for a Rankin/Bass Halloween special. Considering the obvious demand, I'm surprised this was the studio's only attempt at one. [7/10]

The Telephone Box (1972)

The wonder of the internet is that even someone like me, who has seen over 1800 horror films, can still discover stuff he's never heard of before. While perusing the “They Shoot Zombies, Don't They?” list, really an invaluable resource, I came across “The Telephone Box,” known in its native Spain as “La cabina.” A half-hour short film made for Spanish television, it's not the kind of thing I probably would've discovered on my own. The short concerns a man finding an empty telephone booth in the park. He enters it to make a phone call, only to discover that the door won't open. As he struggles to escape, a few people come to his aid but no one can jar the door. Soon, a truck appears and carries the booth off, the man still inside, taking him to a mysterious location.

“The Telephone Box” is not your typical horror movie, as there are no supernatural horrors or psychotic killers. Instead, the short's horror arises from an absurd event happening in a commonplace location. Extinct now, telephone booths were once as common as cellphones currently are. It's in this perfectly normal setting that something seemingly impossible but horrifically plausible happens. Being trapped inside a telephone booth, totally unable to escape, is actually a very frightening, but very easy to imagine, scenario. Antonio Mercero's direction is detached, further emphasizing this sense of normalcy. As the film progresses, things grow increasingly grim. After a series of monotonous events, set inside a strange factory facility, we arrive at a chilling final act. “La cabina” plays its premise to its logical conclusion in as unsettling a manner as possible.

“The Telephone Box” was made during the last years of Francisco Franco's rule in Spain. This can't help but invite a political reading of the film. The way the telephone box is installed by an unknown, but clearly organized, corporation brings the faceless and cruel machinations of a fascist government to mind. Once the man is trapped inside the booth, a crowd quickly forms. A man even brings out a comfy chair for a rich, older woman. Somebody's even selling snacks by the end. Only a few people step up to help, as most are content to watch another person's plight. This speaks to the universal theme of the masses' indifference to the individual's suffering. Yet in a society where people rat each other out, where everyone feels like they're being watched, this becomes especially significant. Even when removed from the political climate in which it was made, “The Telephone Box” is a chilling douse of existential horror. [8/10]

Halloween 2017: October 25

The Wraith (1986)

I'm a big fan of the “phantom vehicle” troupe. Long periods of our lives are spent in and around cars. A lot of people die in them too. So it's always surprised me that there are fewer horror films about these modes of transportation than you'd think. “Christine” and “The Car” are the certified classics of this subgenre and there's a handful of other flicks that deserve mention. What about “The Wraith?” I remember seeing part of the movie while passing through a friend's house, always remembering the cool title and the cooler car. After a recent Purple Stuff Podcast episode raved about the movie, I knew I had to watch it during the Halloween Horror-fest Blog-a-thon.

A strange spirit has come to visit Brook, Arizona. It drives a very fast, very sleek black car and wears a concealing helmet. Packard Welsh is the leader of a gang, forcing people into drag races and stealing their cars when they loose. He's been stalking Keri, a waitress at the local burger stand. He might have also been responsible for murdering Jamie, Keri's ex-boyfriend. The black car begins to pursue Packard and his gang, killing them one by one. The cops chase the killer but have no leads. Around the same time, a mysterious boy named Jacob appears and begins to romance Keri. He is here for revenge. He is the Wraith.

I'm not a car guy by any means but even I know a sweet ride when I see one. And the central car in “The Wraith” is pretty friggin' bad-ass. Officially, the car model is a Dodge M4S Turbo Interceptor but they just call it the Interceptor for most of the movie. It's a shiny black bullet of a car and drives really fucking fast. It's the coolest car in the movie but seemingly everyone in “The Wraith” drives a supped-up monster of some sort. Naturally, all the cool cars are simply precursors to some cool car crashes. This is the titular wraith's main mode of execution. He leads the gang members on chases before magically teleporting the car into the center of the road, leading to spectacular crashes. Among these impressive sights are an eight-teen wheeler loosing several of the smaller vehicles it's hauling and a triple roll down a hill. The best crash in the movie occurs when the Interceptor drives into a wooden building. The barn goes up in a huge explosion, seemingly because the car was just going that fast.

Tying these awesome car sequences together is a heaping helping of campy ridiculousness. “The Wraith” has got to be the most 1986-esque movie I've seen recently. The soundtrack is full of the big hits of the day, including instantly recognizable songs from Billy Idol, Ozzy Osborne, Bonnie Tyler and Robert Palmer. The regular score is driven by some high-powered synth. The fashion is heavy on bright colors, denim, and torn jeans. Then there's the characters. Packard's gang is full of goofy-ass characters. There's a mo-hawked punk who is usually tweaking on something. He's frequently accompanied by a nincompoop with a speech impediment. Nobody other than Clint Howard, featuring the goofiest haircut in the movie, plays the flunky responsible for waving the flags during the races. There's female carhops in revealing outfits and a fat, ill-tempered sheriff. Randy Quaid is perfectly cast as said sheriff.

Practically every corner of “The Wraith” is full of charming goofiness like this. Except for one. The main characters are a total blank. Charlie Sheen stars in the film. Sheen is an occasionally compelling leading man. Here, he plays Jacob as an emotional blank, grunting monosyllabic noises through most of his dialogue. It's hard to believe anyone could have a romance with someone this unresponsive. Sherilyn Fenn, as Keri, plays her part admirably, doing what she can to make a fairly thin character interesting. However, she cannot generate any chemistry from Sheen. Maybe Charlie took the idea of playing a dead guy a little too literally. Jacob is only interesting when dressed-up as the Wraith and I'm pretty sure it wasn't Sheen under that helmet.

Like so much eighties trash, “The Wraith” got shown on cable a lot, leading to a small following. On one level, I understand that. “The Wraith” is a bit too goofy not to be lovable in some ways. And, yes, that car and the associated crashes are cool enough to make the whole movie worth watching. However, “The Wraith” ultimately lacks the necessary amounts of heart to make it a genuine cult classic. This one would actually be a good candidate for a remake, as the original needs some obvious improvements and the premise is general enough that you could do all sorts of stuff with it. But you'd have to keep the Interceptor. That part is non-negotiable. [6/10]

Children of the Damned (1964)

“Village of the Damned” is a sci-fi/horror classic, providing the world with one of the most famous examples of evil children in cinema. Its image of silver-haired children with glowing, hypnotic eyes made it a surprise hit in 1960. A sequel of sorts would follow in 1964. “Children of the Damned” would retain the premise of other-wordly children with telepathic powers but handled the concept in a wildly different manner. While not as successful as the original and widely overlooked over the years, even by classic horror fans, the film is generally well-liked by those who have seen it.

A nation-wide experiment, testing the intelligence of young children, has uncovered an extraordinarily intelligent young boy named Paul. Further test prove that Paul is not just really smart but also psychic, capable of hypnotizing the adults around him. Soon, other countries discovered similarly gifted children. They are brought from their embassies to London. The children escape government custody. The kids hide inside an abandoned church, using their powers to defend themselves from anyone who attempts to enter, and create experimental machines. Government around the world soon begin to wonder if the inhuman children are a threat to humanity. A psychologist and geneticist attempt to protect these children of the damned.

The original “Village of the Damned” was obviously of the Cold War era. References are made in the film to the Soviet Union. Threats from other civilizations and a generally political unease defined the film's story. The mostly unrelated sequel follows this path, becoming a full-blown geopolitical thriller. The children come from all over the world, including the Soviet Union and China. One of the reasons the children frightened the various governments is because they are a hive mind. What one knows, all the other knows. There are several scenes of government officials deliberating over what to do with the children, how big of a threat they might be. This provides a more topical feeling, setting “Children of the Damned” apart from its prequel and encapsulating the fears and paranoia of the day.

“Children of the Damned” isn't even truly a sequel, as the sinister kids have entirely different origins and temperaments. Instead of being outright malevolent, the kids are mostly neutral. They only use their powers to achieve their goals or defend themselves. They mostly want to be left to their own devices. And yet, there's still something off-putting about them. They rarely speak. Their wide-eyed stares are hard to read. Whenever they display their powers, the results are unnerving. Even the lair they choose, a dilapidated gothic cathedral, is creepy. As the film goes on, we learn that their powers are even more extreme then originally thought. It certainly makes the plot's central question – whether or not the children mean us harm – a trickier proposition. That the movie never judges in either direction, letting the audience decide, adds to its power.

The film was directed by Anton Leader, the sole feature film credit in a career primarily devoted to television. Despite his background, Leader makes this a handsome looking film. The black-and-white photography is delivered in an almost sterile way, contributing to the otherworldly atmosphere surrounding the titular children. There's also a classic horror vibe, emphasized by the long shadows of the spooky churn. The cast is solid too, composed primarily of British character actors. Ian Hendry brings a subtle humor to his role as Lewellin, the psychologist who discovers the children. He has a good rapport with Alan Badel, who plays the geneticist. I also rather like Barbara Ferris as Susan, the young woman drafted unwillingly to become the children's emissary and caretaker.

Changing the children from outwardly evil to more inscrutable characters probably annoyed fans of the original, who paid to see this back in 1964. It obviously brought the franchise to an end, as no more sequels were produced. “Children of the Damned” was sold as a straight-up shocker but there's less evil kid action in this one than the advertisements implied. Still, taken on its own, it's an interesting film, equal parts intelligent sci-fi, Cold War thriller, and spooky gothic horror film. Most home video releases have packaged the two movies together, so you'll probably watch it anyway. [7/10]

Hammer House of Horror: Children of the Full Moon

A few years ago, I reviewed an episode of “Hammer House of Horror,” an attempt by the then mostly defunct studio to keep their brand name alive. “The House That Bled to Death” is obviously the most famous episode of the series but fans of the show seem to consider “Children of the Full Moon” the best episode. (It was also among the handful of episodes released on VHS stateside in the eighties, with host segments from Elvira.) The episode concerns Tom and Sarah, a young married couple traveling through the British countryside. After experiencing car troubles, they take shelter in a country manor. The house is home to an old woman and several strange children. At night, wolves are heard howling and Sarah is attacked by an unseen beast. Several weeks later, she discovers she's pregnant and her behavior becomes odd. Tom begins to wonder if her pregnancy and their visit at the odd house aren't connected.

“Children of the Full Moon” begins like a standard horror story, one that wouldn't be out of place in a classic Hammer movie. Car problems causing people to hide in a weird house is one of those classic premises, you know. That portion of “Children of the Full Moon” is rather effective. The house is a good location, full of wandering hallways. The kids are genuinely eerie, starring oddly or disappearing suddenly. The caretaker, an older woman, appears friendly but is clearly hiding something. When she tells the couple not to leave their room at night, “Children of the Full Moon” reaches a turning point. The attack scene that follows keeps the violence entirely off-screen but is effectively intense, focusing on Susan's screaming face and off-screen animal noises.

The sudden story turn that follows definitely catches you off-guard. Tom wakes up, is told it was all a dream, and the two return home. “Children of the Full Moon” then switches gears, from being a classical monster movie concept to a story about pregnancy anxiety. This second half is not as compelling, though the sight of Susan eating whole chunks of raw meat is effectively gross. “Children of the Full Moon” does redeem itself with an ending that brings things full circle, though a bit too downbeat. Honestly, I feel like this one would've been improved if the title and pre-credits scene – a little girl attacking and eating a lamb – had been different. “Children of the Full Moon” would've had a better central mystery if we didn't immediately know it was about werewolves, setting up the eventual conclusion. [7/10]

The S from Hell (2010)

Rodney Ascher has carved out an interesting career for himself, as one of the few people who make documentaries that double as horror movies. “Room 237” would really grab people's attention while “The Nightmare” was genuinely frightening. Ascher's first stab at this odd genre mash-up was “The S from Hell.” It's a short documentary about the phenomenon of “Scary Logos:” Television and film production company logos that scared people as kids. Specifically, it focuses on the 1965 Screen Gems logo, nicknamed the S from Hell. Apparently, the swirling S and weird synthesizer music upset many children. Ascher builds his documentary around interviews with some of the S's victims.

Ascher's “Room 237” was fascinating to me. Not because I thought any of the conspiracy theories about “The Shining” had much credence – they don't – but because the documentary showed how varied people's reactions to the same work of art can be. “The S from Hell” doesn't go that deep but does show how totally innocuous things can have an unpredictable effect on people. Honestly, even as someone who was a very timid kid, I'm a little baffled how something as simple as a production logo could scare someone. I don't see anything especially sinister about the swirling lines and short synth loop. Yet the people go on about how the music sounds demonic, distorted or backwards. How the dot in the center of the S looked like a starring eye. It is definitely interesting to hear about how something so simple reverberated in people's minds and memories.

“The S from Hell” also shows that Ascher's directorial style was fairly well defined, right from the beginning. The short plays audio from folks traumatized by the logo over stock footage from old movies, TV shows, and industrial videos. It even includes a scene from “Halloween III,” which is pretty funny. Sometimes, Ascher visualizes the various memories. Like one woman's account of hiding behind the couch when the logo would appear on the TV. Or how a guy's older sister would torment him by holding him down and whispering “Screen Gems!” The flashiest moment is a recreation of a woman's nightmare, about being chased by a giant version of the logo. That's a pretty wild image. The short doesn't go any further into the bizarre internet subculture of production logo fanatics – yes, that's a thing that exist – but it does make for an interesting, if occasionally confusing, eight minutes. [7/10]

Halloween 2017: October 24

Coma (1978)

As a kid, I used to confuse Michael Crichton and Robin Cook. This doesn't seem to be an entirely unreasonable mix-up. Both men write thrillers based upon plausible science and hot-button political issues, though Cook, as a former physician, leans way more on the medical side of things. (They're also both mega-sellers of airport reads who have been active since the seventies.) Surely contributing to this confusion is “Coma,” the first film adaptation of Cook's work. Michael Crichton, obviously sensing the similarities between their styles, made “Coma” his second directorial credit. Though a lot less iconic than “Westworld,” “Coma” would become a solid box office success in 1978.

Susan Wheeler is a surgeon at Boston Memorial Hospital. She has a hard job and frequently fights with her boyfriend, Mark, also a doctor at the same hospital. Those emotions run even higher when Susan's best friend, Nancy, goes into a coma during what should've been an in-and-out procedure. Initially, this is blamed on an allergic reaction to the anesthetics. Later, a similarly young patient also goes into a coma in the same operating room, while under different anesthetics. Susan begins to suspect something malevolent is happening at the hospital. She soon uncovers a conspiracy. Patients are being put into comas, shipped off to another facility, killed, and having their organs harvested. If she's not careful, the same fate may befall Susan.

“Coma” may not seem like horrific enough viewer for this late in October. I'd argue that it's a top-rate thriller with enough gruesome elements to classify. Crichton builds some very suspenseful scenes throughout “Coma.” Susan has the bad habit of wandering into dangerous situations. More than once, she has to sneak around without being discovered. At one point, she's climbing up a large ladder, avoiding detection. Later, she crawls above the suspended comatose patients – the film's most memorable visual – and nearly slips up. Probably my favorite scene in “Coma” involves a professional killer chasing the woman into a locker full of corpses. She has to hide among the dead bodies, eventually using them to defend herself, to survive. Even a simple scene, of her riding the elevator with another person looking at her suspiciously, builds a nice amount of tension.

Those scenes wouldn't be as effective if with didn't care about the main character. “Coma” is another proud entry into the genre of paranoid women with good reason to be paranoid. Susan initially doubts her suspicions, wondering if she's just grieving and overworked. Later, as more facts come forward, she begins to wonder if she can trust anyone. She even suspects Mark is in on the organ-stealing plan. (“Coma” probably should've ran with this, skipping the romantic montage of the two at the beach, and making Mark part of the conspiracy.)  Despite everything being against her, Susan doesn't bend or yield. She's a strong, willful person determined to right wrongs. Geneviève Bujold is very good in the part, making the character exactly as powerful as she needs to be.

As I said in my “Westworld” review, Crichton's stories frequently play off of a fear of scientific advancement. Though Crichton didn't write “Coma,” you can see this tendency shining through. This is a film that plays on people's distrust of hospitals. We put so much faith in the medical establishment, trusting doctors and nurses to take care of us and our loved ones, to always be ethical. The truth is, it doesn't always work that. In “Coma,” the violation turns out to be much more severe than mere malpractice. Pretty sure a hospital secretly running an organ smuggling ring would make the news. But the point remains the same. You can never know the true intentions of the men behind the white masks.

Another big difference between Michael Crichton and Robin Cook is their multimedia success. While Crichton's books have been adapted into a number of enormous blockbusters, adaptations of Cook's books have mostly stuck to television. (Including “Coma,” which was remade as a four-hour mini-series for A&E in 2012.) The only other theatrically release adaptation of Cook's work has been “Sphinx,” which was a huge critical and financial flop. This doesn't reflect poorly on “Coma,” which is a sturdy little conspiracy thriller. Though not a classic, if you already get nervous in hospital, this one will likely only increase that fear. [7/10]

Grim Prairie Tales (1990)

Never underestimate the power of an awesome title. Years ago, during my days digging through less-than-legal VHS rips of obscure movies to obscure websites, I came across the title “Grim Prarie Tales.” I had never heard of the movie before, much less seen it. Apparently it was a western-themed horror anthology starring James Earl Jones and Brad Douriff. The uploader who had provided the film had his account deleted before I got a chance to watch it. However, the title always stuck with me. So, when I saw the DVD at the VHSPS booth at Monster-Mania, I just had to grab it.

The setting is the Wild West era. Farley is a banker, traveling across the desert to meet his wife in a distant village. After setting up camp for the night, a stranger wanders by. Calling himself Morrison, he's a bounty hunter he has recently made a kill. Despite some initial agreements, the two start to tell horror stories around the fire. The first involves an old man wandering through an Indian burial ground. He dismisses the superstitions and pays the price. The second involves a man picking up a pregnant woman on the prairie and discovering a grim secret about her. The third concerns a daughter who learns her rancher father is part of a lynch mob. The last tale involves a gun-for-hire being haunted by his most recent victim.

“Grim Prairie Tales” is the rarest of creatures: It's a horror anthology were the framing device is better than any of the segments. The segments aren't bad, it must be said. However, they don't have Brad Dourif and James Earl Jones bickering about storytelling. The two are cast against type, Dourif playing the reasonable voice of authority while Jones is the oddball. Jones hams it up, as a eccentric and possibly alcoholic bounty hunter. Dourif, meanwhile, maintains his usual level of panick-y charm. Better yet, the framing device also talks about how stories can mean different things to different people. Morrison insists stories are just stories, that they don't mean anything. Farley, meanwhile, believes stories can include social commentary and important themes. During their time together, the two come around to each other's form of thinking. They become odd friends too.

As a horror anthology, the stories in “Grim Prairie Tales” can easily be separated into two categories. Stories like Morrison, which are simply meant to be horror stories, and stories like Farley, which say something more about the world. The opening story is a decent riff on the haunted Indian burial ground troupe. Save for the appearance from an undead corpse, it's barely a supernatural story. The ending, involving someone being buried alive, is pretty creepy. The fourth segment seems to be similarly grounded. The gun-for-hire is haunted more by his heavy conscience than a literal ghost. A literal ghost shows up by the end. Director Wayne Coe – this is his sole directorial credit – has primarily worked as an animator and storyboard artist. So Coe throws in a wild animated sequence, where the gunfighter imagines himself as a bullet in his own gun. That's pretty cool.

These stories aren't but the other two prove stronger. Probably the most famous scene in “Grim Prairie Tales,” if any segment in the fame can said to be famous, is the second. The build-up is decent, all the pieces coming together in a satisfying manner. It's a calmly performed tale that climaxes with a truly unsettling, and bizarre, unbirthing sequence. Unsurprisingly, some folks have seen a feminist element to this story. The third segment, meanwhile, features no supernatural elements. The story of frontier justice, and the impact it has on the men's family, is told with no exaggeration. The brief racial violence is pretty intense. The ending is oddly touching, finding some humanity in a cruel world.

Coe's commitment to realism in this fantastical horror anthology is surprising. Even the ending, which you'd expect to wrap things up on a gruesome note, instead goes for humor and the characters finding common ground. “Grim Prairie Tales” has never gotten a DVD release, meaning the VHSPS presentation is one of the better ways you can see the movie. That's a bummer, as I bet this would look pretty good, cleaned-up and on Blu-Ray. The movie is certainly a lot classier, and a lot cooler, than it's VHS-only obscurity would make you think. [7/10]

Community: Introduction to Statistics

I still fondly recall my brief love affair with “Community.” For three years, Dan Harmon's cutting edge sitcom seriously seemed like the smartest, funniest, most insightful show on television. My introduction to “Community” actually was “Introduction to Statistics.” The episode began the series' tradition of awesome Halloween episodes. Though, to be totally technical, “Introduction to Statistics” is a Dias De Los Mortos episode.

For extra credit, overachiever Annie has decided to throw a Halloween party for the study grou's Spanish class. Annie sees this as her chance to be popular in college. That popularity depends on resident cool guy Jeff showing up for the party. Jeff, however, is more concerned with asking an attractive teacher out. Meanwhile, Shirley is still recovering from her recent divorce, redirecting her anger at her husband's new girlfriend at Jeff's potential date. Pierce, meanwhile, struggles with his own mortality.

What really elevated “Community” above so many other shows was not just its razor sharp writing. Instead, so much of the humor was based in the lovable cast of characters. Annie is so desperate to be liked. Her attempts to intimate Jeff soon dissolve into panicked cries, which Allison Brie makes both hilarious and pathetic. Pierce is afraid of being old. So first he dresses up as the Beast Master, a character he thinks is hip but is unfamiliar with. Next, he takes some drugs at the party, resulting in a bad trip. This is all rooted in his fear of death, which the Halloween party only intensifies. It's a serious issue but Chevy Chase's performance is hysterical. Shirley's anger at her ex allows Yvette Nicole Brown to show the character's fiery side, which was always hilarious, without loosing the pathos of the situation. It's so impressive that, this early in the show's run, the writers had such a strong grasp on the characters.

As much of the show's wit was based in its characters, “Community” could also deploy absurdity or a well-timed pop culture reference like no other. When convincing his teacher he's old enough tod ate her, Jeff says he's old enough to have seen “Ghostbusters” in the theater. Most notably, Abed dresses up as Batman at the party, even using a gravelly Christian Bale voice. He takes the part entirely seriously, convincing others he's actually Batman. (This gag was so beloved that it became a reoccurring joke.) This concludes in a brilliant gag involving chairs stacked into a fort. Britta's reaction to Jeff in his tight cowboy outfit is another great joke, Gillian Jacobs quickly rattling off a bemused come-on. Troy gets a few good lines – about Mexican Halloween and Pierce's touching habit – but his best bit is saved for after the credits. He describes his fair of waking up as a doughnut and eating himself. In other words, “Introduction to Statistics” is awesome, a great example of the show's ability to balance heart and humor. [9/10]

Hag (2014)

During the Six Weeks of Halloween, I like to watch some horror shorts. Usually, I find these simply by Googling for good horror short films. “Hag,” from director Erik Gardner, was on one of those lists. As soon as I saw that the short dealt with the legend of the Old Hag, a topic I'm interested in, I added it to my Halloween watchlist. The short follows a married couple, Marie and Scott. Marie has a sleepwalking problem, which is disturbing Scott's sleep. The two start seeing a specialist. Marie gets better but Scott develops his own problem. He begins experiencing sleep paralysis, accompanied by a painful pressing feeling on his chest. He reads up on the condition and hears the legend of the Old Hag. What he assumes is just a legend turns out to be much more.

“Hag” has a decent grasp of tension and tone. The slow reveal of the Hag, beginning with Scott seeing his wife acting strangely, works okay. Gardner, who previously directed “The Mangler Reborn,” keeps the attack scenes creepy by not revealing too much, too quickly The cast is decent. Megan Duffy is believable as both a victim of some curse and something more serious, while also showing off a sexy side. Drew Wicks is solid as the baffled husband.

Really, there's only two elements of “Hag” that didn't work for me. There's a moment where something a little overdone happens with the Wikipedia page for the Old Hag, which I thought was cheesy. The short doesn't quite stick the ending. Instead of wrapping up in a satisfying manner, it ends by just raising more questions. As someone who has actually experienced sleep paralysis, “Hag” comes nowhere close to recreating what a frightening feeling that is. However, as a fifteen minute horror short, it's not bad. [7/10]