Halloween 2022: October 28th

Watcher (2022)

While reviewing “V/H/S/99” the other night, I couldn't help but reflect on the previous entry in that series. The stand-out segment in “V/H/S/94” was “Storm Drain,” which introduced Raatma to the world. Newcomer Chloe Okuna directed that one, announcing herself as a talent to watch. Okuna wasted no time getting her follow-up in the pipeline. That alone would've made me interested in “Watcher,” yet there was another reason to look it up. Maika Monroe has been working steadily since the one-two punch of “The Guest” and “It Follows” in 2014. I haven't really noticed though, because it hasn't been in movies I've seen. With her lead role in “Watcher,” Monroe has reestablished her modern scream queen status.

Julia has recently moved to Romania with her husband, advertising exec Francis. He often leaves her alone in their apartment, deep in a city where she doesn't speak the language. That's when notices a man, in the building across the street from them, looking out his window at her. Julia is certain she sees the man following her around the city. This dovetails with reports of a brutal serial killer, known as the Spider, decapitating women not far from the apartment. Growing increasingly paranoid, Julia begins to obsess over the idea of being watched and the fear that she might be the Spider's next victim. 

“Watcher” was originally written to take place in Brooklyn. Presumably the location was changed to Bucharest for budgetary reasons but it ended up serving the film. Early on, Julia is surrounded by people speaking Romanian. She doesn't speak the language herself and the dialogue goes unsubtitled. This leaves the viewer feeling just as isolated and alone as she does. She's stuck in a city, unable to ask for help. The apartment building is large and cavernous, with every sound thundering through the hollow walls. This just makes Julia feel more alone. “Watcher” builds on this sensation of isolation to create a mood of chilly unease. 

Julia feels even more alone because her boyfriend isn't much help. He's concerned – the movie nicely plays him as well-meaning, not a total asshole – but he still doesn't take her fears seriously. The only person who really relates to her is next door neighbor, Irena. Irena works as an exotic dancer, swaying inside a glass booth while men stare at her. This all speaks to a specific fear women feel. When a woman goes out in public, she has to be aware of men looking at her, observing her. While ducking into a movie theater, a guy comes up behind her in the seat and breathes on her neck. This leads to her walking through a grocery store, pursued by the same guy, growing more panicked as she goes. “Watcher” feeds into this sense of being watched, the cinematography often floating outside the windows, looking in on Julia. The film puts us in the seat of a woman who, much like every women, has to stay aware of the men watching her. 

“Watcher” is the definition of a slow-burn thriller. Not too much happens throughout its runtime. It's mostly devoted to Julia falling deeper into her isolation and paranoia. There's this creeping suspicion throughout that maybe nothing actually is happening. Perhaps Julia really is just feeling shaken up by being in a new city. Maybe it's all a big misunderstanding and the man seemingly stalking her is just coincidentally in the same places as her. Yet Julia, the film around her, can't escape this sense she's right. That mood of uncertainty allows Okuna to create some startling sequences. Such as a frightening nightmare or an intensely uncomfortable encounter on a train. It all builds towards a climax of prolonged suspense, “Watcher” getting bloody and fierce in its final moments. Okuna is also smart enough to end shortly afterwards, cutting the film off on a hell of an exclamation point. 

“Watcher” proves that the success of “Storm Drain” was not a fluke. Okuna knows her stuff. The film expertly uses cinematography, sound design, and a finely tuned script to build tension and create a disquieting ambiance. Okuna already has her next movie lined up – a project inspired by Rodney Alcala, the infamous “Dating Game” killer – which sounds right up her alley. As for Monroe, she's great here and had a couple other interesting projects set-up this year. I don't think any actress should be defined by working in one genre alone but I do enjoy seeing her in horror movies. She clearly has great taste when it comes to selecting projects. [7/10]

Murder in the Blue Room (1944)

It's time to, once again, ask the question of why Universal Studios was so obsessed with remaking “Secret of the Blue Room.” That's a 1932 German mystery movie. Universal would remake it in 1933 as a relatively routine old dark house thriller, distinguished by its expressionistic direction. That would be enough for most movie studios but, for some reason, Universal decided to remake the movie again just five years later. 1938's “The Missing Guest” was totally forgettable. Yet the studio would decide to tell this exact same story for a fourth time after another six years. 1944's “Murder in the Blue Room” would, at least, stand apart from the other versions on account of being a musical. And how often do I get to write about a Golden Age musical during October, even if it's an extremely obscure one? 

Like all versions of the “Blue Room” story, “Murder in the Blue Room” revolves around a mansion where a mysterious blue room with a reputation for murder resides. Nan's grandfather was murdered in the room years before. Her father just recently reopened the mansion, which he's celebrating with a big costume party. Nan invites three of her friends, who are singers and dancers, to be the night's entertainment. When a man dares to stay in the Blue Room overnight, he vanishes the next morning. This ignites a mystery, which soon uncovers the secret of the home and Nan's family.

How much you enjoy “Murder in the Blue Room” will depend entirely on your tolerance for fast-paced forties dialogue and comedy. The film is a vehicle for a female comedy team known as the Three Jazzybelles, made up of Grace McDonald, Betty Kean, and June Preiser. The trio spend all their scenes trading wacky dialogue, often throwing out circular conversations and silly puns about whatever is happening at any given time. There's other forms of silly comedy too, in that Grace has repeated run-ins with a ghost in a derby. These are definitely the movie's silliest scenes, though a moment where the girls are drugged, their vision getting blurry, is a close second.

Knowing “Murder in the Blue Room” was a musical, I wasn't sure what to expect going into it. You never know when a musical from the forties is going to be fun and exciting and when it's going to treacly tedium. Luckily, “Murder in the Blue Room” is more on the upbeat, jazzy side. The opening number, with Anne Gwynne's voice dubbed over by another singer, is pretty but forgettable. The Jazzybelles are introduced with a pretty amusing number, incorporating their comedy into their dance moves. The song they performed, “A Doo-Dee-Doo-Doo,” is exactly as meaningless as it sounds but is also catchy. The best moment in the film occurs when the girls lower the lights and do a number called “The Boogie-Woogie Boogeyman,” for the enjoyment of a bound butler. (There's a plot reason for that.) Their shadows are cast large on the wall and the song is enjoyable. There's also a surprisingly acrobatic dance number later on, the ladies rolling around on the floor and leaping into the air. 

You'll notice I'm talking more about the comedy and music in “Murder in the Blue Rooms' than the mystery elements. That's because the Jazzybelles' scenes are largely disconnected from the standard old dark house story. Anne Gwynne, as heroine Nan, has her scenes with even more unimportant male characters as they speculate about the mystery of the Blue Room. There's secret passageways through the house, as well as a piano playing by itself and other spooky trappings. Like all versions of the “Blue Room” story, this concludes in a secret chamber under the house. This one has some nice shadowy imagery down there, while a climatic shoot-out happens. The film also begins by copying the best moment from “The Missing Guest,” which is a first person perspective shot of a man in a costume opening a door and scaring a maid.

“Murder in the Blue Room” is definitely an oddity. Running all of an hour, it's zippy and entertaining as a musical. As a mystery/thriller, it does absolutely nothing that the previous versions of this story didn't do. The mere presence of the Three Jazzybelles make this a lot more memorable than “The Missing Guest.” Gwynne, a minor star from Universal's forties flick, is cute and charming. Even if she's given nothing to do here. I'm glad I watched all these movies, just to say I did, but they have to rank among the least memorable of Universal's horror/mystery output in the forties. I may never know why Universal was so obsessed with this story but at least I don't have to watch them anymore. [6/10]

The Twilight Zone (2019): Meet in the Middle

CBS was really determined to make the 2019 version of “The Twilight Zone” work, even though critical and audience reaction was mixed, at best. They gave it a second season, sight unseen, and that season kicked off with “Meet in the Middle.” It concerns Phil, a neurotic man who is unlucky in love. While out on another unsuccessful date, he begins to hear a woman's voice in his head. At first disturbed by the presence, it soon becomes clear that the woman – named Annie – is psychically communicating with him. The two begin a strange courtship of sorts, falling in love over the course of several weeks. After deciding to meet in-person, Phil begins to learn that his dream woman's intentions are not what they seem.

“Meet in the Middle” seems to be, at first anyway, a metaphor for a long-distance relationship. Phil and Annie are separate by a distance of four hours. They don't see each other in person. Instead, they communicate with just their words. This doesn't stop them from developing feelings for each other. In fact, that they communicate with only their words, talking for hours on end about every topic under the sun, somehow makes their bond stronger. As someone who has seen a long-distance relationship grow into a close, intimate one, I found myself relating to this deeply. It helps that Jimmi Simpson has the right balance of sweaty neurosis and genuinely charm to make a character like this work. Likewise, Gillian Jacobs as Annie has the kind of personality – snarky but vulnerable, feminine softness but smart – that a man can easily fall in love with.

But this is “The Twilight Zone,” so things don't stay whimsical for very long. Director Mathias Herndl generates some tension during the train ride, when things really start to go wrong. The device that Phil can only hear what Annie is thinking, not see or be able to physically help, is a great way to generate tension. Simpson also has a quality that makes the character's eventual slide towards unhinged violence believable as well. Yet I ultimately came away from “Meet in the Middle” a little pissed at it. The twist ending, required for these “Zone” reboots, is mean-spirited. It turns what we've seen before on its head but not in a meaningful way, just in a way that pulls the rub out from under the viewer. Made me kind of hate an episode that was otherwise doing it for me, truth be told. At least Jordan Peele is a good host. I do enjoy his segments. [6/10]

Home (1998)

Two years ago, I reviewed Douglas Buck's “Cutting Moments,” an incredibly disturbing fusion of suburban existential dread and graphic bodily mutilation. As unsettling as that short was, I was morbidly curious about the rest of his American Trilogy, of which “Home” is the second. It follows Gary, a deeply religious man with a wife and young daughter. He often thinks back to his childhood. His mother was prone to depressive episodes and his father, an imposing man, was emotionally walled-off and violent. Gary practices self-flagellation to control his own violent impulses but, inevitably, they boil over.

“Home” is definitely abreast with “Cutting Moments.” By which I mean it's an incredibly uncomfortable watch.  Like Buck's previous film, “Home” exists in the tension-filled pauses of a family that can't communicate. Gary's parents sat in painful silence, never discussing what they were really thinking. He grew into a man who does the same thing. When Gary asks his daughter what she does while he's at work all day, it's a moment full of skin-crawling implication. It's only a matter of time before that simmering discomfort overflows into full-blown violence. While “Cutting Moments” dove right into bloody release, “Home” keeps the violence largely off-screen. It denies us even the catharsis of self-destruction. It's all awkward silence and meaningful glance, full of repressed feelings and withheld rages. 

As in “Cutting Moments,” there's also a distressing undercurrent of aberrant sexuality here. As a child, Gary watched his parents, not having sex, but in some sort of sadomasochistic ritual. As an adult, he suppresses his sexual desires into religion and literal self-abuse. (Which is made evident in a highly symbolic shot of him using a wrench on a water heater.) Yet there's no denying that his flagellation provides a sexual release of some sort. When he sees his young daughter whispering into a boy's ear, it makes him immensely uncomfortable. “Home” never verbalizes its theme of a man so sexually repressed, he can only release his passion through violence. It's all expressed through visuals and unsaid implications. 

It's clear that Buck is talented at creating a quietly unnerving ambiance in his films. “Home” lacks a musical score. It focuses on the unbearable silence it characters live in. Gary Betsworth, who played the pedophilic father in “Cutting Moments,” also stars here. He's practically playing the same character, just a dad who is disturbed in another way. While they are definitely not for everyone, Buck's films present a distressing vision of suburban hell. I want to make some joke about how his movies are for “people who think Todd Solondz films need less comedy and more mutilation.” But I enjoy – in so much as they can be enjoyed – these, so I guess I'm that demographic. [7/10]

Halloween 2022: October 27th

Cast a Deadly Spell (1991)

This is how I know I'm getting old: My favorite character actors are dying. Here in 2022, we lost two big ones. Fred Ward always brought a keen mixture of grizzled but strangely vulnerable to everything he did, appearing in cult classics like “Tremors” and “Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins.” David Warner, meanwhile, seemed like a constant presence in my childhood, thanks to plum roles on “Batman: the Animated Series” and the second “Ninja Turtles” movie. He too was a regular in the kind of nerd-friendly fare I've eaten up my whole life, ranging from “The Omen,” to “Star Trek.” I wanted to pay tribute to both actors this October... And they both happened to appear in a pretty interesting little film from 1991 called “Cast a Deadly Spell.”

The film takes place in an alternate version of 1940s Los Angeles, where magical spells and creatures of legend and lore are everyday realities. Seemingly everyone uses magic to make their lives easier. Except for one man: A private detective named Harry Philip Lovecraft. Harry is hired by millionaire Amos Hackshaw to retrieve a book. A chauffeur disappeared with a particular tome known as the Necronomicon, delivering it to a sleazy nightclub owner named Borden. Lovecraft attempts to locate the grimoire, coming in contact with Hackshaw's unicorn wrangling daughter, an old flame who's now a nightclub singer, and a whole host of monsters. Soon, he uncovers a plot to awaken the Great Old Ones and overturn the world as we know it.

“Cast a Deadly Spell” manages to distill all the cool of the hard boiled detective style into one movie. Joseph Dougherty's script is packed, front-to-back, with memorably stylized dialogue. Everyone looks cool as hell, in their perfectly fitted suits and fedoras. The plot is amusingly twisting, in that classic noir fashion, winding around various leads before circling back to the proper protagonist. The film hits most of what you associate with the genre: There's the ball-busting police chief, who has a reluctant relationship with the detective. The femme fatale is a singer in a classy nightclub, getting a big song to herself. She has a virginal counterpart too, whose virginal status is actually a plot point. The shifty hitman, the other woman looking out for the hero, and the scumbag villain all put in their required appearances. Yet the film isn't just tiredly running through cliches. It injects each one with a sense of humor and a pitch perfect energy. 

Maybe combining these well-worn tropes with monster and magic is what makes it all feel so fresh. The special effects throughout “Cast a Deadly Spell” are endlessly clever, doing a significant degree of world-building. You'll see a floating wine glass or some sort of magical ritual in the background with no explanation, giving us hints of a bigger world. A werewolf is being interrogated, a vampire sits in the holding cell, and zombies work on construction sites. The clever mixing and matching the film does is evident in scenes like a frustrated landlord cleaning gremlins out of his car or a demonic summoning happening in the back of a greasy spoon dinner. Or a mob hitman turning a pile of cash into a deadly weapon. The film's creature effects are beautifully realized. A gargoyle that appears throughout is a cool but classical design and the climatic appearance of none other than C'thulhu himself is a hell of a payoff. 

Holding this clever mash-up together is some slick direction and a fantastic cast. Martin Campbell, before reinventing Bond twice, brought a similarly confident touch to this movie. The direction is colorful, mixing reds and blues in with the urban landscape. The action scene, especially that fight in the kitchen, is well assembled. The cuts create a frenzied sense of speed without loosing sight of coherence. As for the cast, each part is perfectly realized. Fred Ward knows exactly how to realize such hard boiled dialogue, coming off as charming and cool but also humane. Clancy Brown is great as the cluelessly crass would-be mobster, David Warner's exact delivery is so totally in-tune with the material, and Julianne Moore shines as a seductive and ultimately self-interested love interest. I also love the little details here, like Lovecraft's office being on the same floor as a dance hall, which leads to some mix-ups. 

If you're wondering why you've never heard of this delightful little hybrid, that's probably because it never played in theaters. Despite noticeably high production values, “Cast a Deadly Spell” was made for and debuted on HBO. I don't know if the film was ever considered for a theatrical release or if it was designed for the small screen. Either way, it never looks anything less than totally cinematic. Even in our modern age, when the marquee value of H.P. Lovecraft is a lot higher than it sued to be, “Cast a Deadly Spell” remains largely overlooked. If you're a fan of the eldritch author, film noir, or just crazy creature effects, absolutely track it down. As for Fred Ward and David Warner, they will both be dearly missed. [9/10]

Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter (1966)

From a certain perspective, the western and horror genres meeting up was inevitable. The western was the main populist genre all throughout Hollywood's Golden Age. Into the sixties, it dominated on television. Horror, meanwhile, has been popular since the thirties. Someone deciding to stick a cowboy hat on a vampire was only a matter of time. Horror and westerns were usually also B-pictures, produced cheaply to turn an easy buck. It is then unsurprising that most horror/westerns aren't very good. The combo of “Billy the Kid Versus Dracula” and “Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter,” two mash-ups filmed back to back by the ridiculously prolific William Beaudine, have long been regarded as legendary bad movies. Well, I watched “Billy the Kid Versus Dracula” a few years back and kind of liked it, so let's give the other one a shot.

Reports of Jesse James' death have been greatly exaggerated. The infamous outlaw rides into a western town with Hank, a dimwitted muscle man. They meet up with another gang, who are planning a stage coach robbery. Following a betrayal by another robber, Jesse and the injured Hank flee into the countryside. A kindly woman named Juanita leads the desperate duo to the laboratory of  Maria and Rudolph Frankenstein. Maria has been transplanting brains in an attempt to create perfectly obedient slaves, which has decimated the population of Juanita's village. One look at the musclebound Hank and Maria knows he'll be a perfect brain-swapped creation. 

“Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter” definitely seems more interested in the western side of its horror/western equation. The movie is so committed to the clichés of the six shooter style that it even includes a random fight with an Indian brave, totally divorced from the rest of the plot. There's a lot of shots of people on horses. James is played by John Lupton, a veteran of the genre on the small screen. Even though Jesse James is supposed to be a fearsome bandit, Lupton plays him as the most boringly wholesome of good guys. He's fast on the draw but is never anything but kind and considerate to everyone around him. He's ultimately not even responsible for the defeat of Frankenstein or her monster and rides off with the sheriff at the end. Why make your hero a notorious outlaw if you were just going to make him into a typical white hat? 

After an introductory scene at the beginning, the film takes far too long to reintroduce the Frankensteins. When they do appear, Maria spends more time arguing with her well-intentioned brother, Rudolph, than with doing mad scientist shit. Which mostly entails wearing hilariously goofy helmets and fiddling with anachronistic diodes. She doesn't assemble her monster from corpses, instead plopping an artificial brain into a living body. Once Hank is transformed into a lumbering brute, even renamed Igor, he doesn't do a whole lot. He stiffly walks around a few scenes, not strangling anyone until the climatic scene. Underwhelming, even by the standard of low-budget Frankenstein riffs. 

In the long gaps between shoot-outs and stifled monster shenanigans, “Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter” mostly occupies itself with extremely pedestrian romantic entanglements. A grossly overqualified Estelita Rodriguez plays Juanita, who becomes the object of affection for both Jesse and Hank. It seems every woman wants an outlaw, as Maria Frankenstein also develops some sort of romantic attachment to James. There's far too many scenes of people sitting around, melodramatically espousing their fillings for each other before ending with kisses completely free of any passion or sensuality. Tedious stuff, let me tell ya. 

As far as the kind of unintentional humor you might expect from a goofball B-movie like this, “Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter” is sadly short of that too. The only time I chuckled was when Juanita announced her love for James in the most overwrought way possible and the hilariously on-the-nose epitaph on a gravestone in the final scene. “Billy the Kid Versus Dracula” was kind of charming in its thrown together sincerity and low-fi melding of genre clichés. The follow-up, sadly, is just lame. With insubstantial monster action and totally underwhelming western tomfoolery, this one is best forgotten. [4/10]

Two Sentence Horror Stories: Tutorial

The CW would draw inspiration from internet horror stories for “Two Sentence Horror Stories,” an anthology series that has run on the network for a few years now with little fanfare. That's undeserved as both episodes I've seen now are good. “Tutorial” begins as if it's a make-up tutorial video, Karine speaking directly into her webcam and talking to her followers online. When she's away from her screen, we see a man sneak into her home. As more strange things begin to happen throughout the house, Karine slowly becomes aware of the intruder. And that's when the startling truth is revealed.

The format of a two sentence horror story necessitates that the second line puts a dramatic spin on  whatever information the first line gives us. “Tutorial” follows this structure, as it's essentially two types of stories in one. The first is a standard home invasion tale, not too dissimilar to “Hide,” the episode I watched last year. The episode works best when limiting its point-of-view to Karine's webcam. Seeing a hooded figure sneak into your home is scary enough. The handful of times the episode cuts to other locations around the house is distracting. I guess Karine has her whole home wired for broadcast? It gets even weirder when text appears on-screen, interacting with various objects and events in a manner that, I guess, is typical for make-up tutorial videos. 

Once the twist comes – that Karine is the hunter, not the hunted – your attention diverts to trying to figure out where this is going. “Tutorial” includes a few more twists along the way, which is a nice surprise. The eventual reveal is nicely grisly, though constrained by television censorship. I do like how Aleyse Shannon maintains a casual, bubbly personality even after the subject matter takes a macabre turn. “Tutorial” isn't as scary as “Hide.” It feels a bit sillier, a little more contrived in its circumstances. Yet I still had a good time with it. I'm guessing I never hear anyone talk about this show because nobody watches the CW. [7/10]

Slow Bob in the Lower Dimensions (1989)

On account of Henry Selick's “Wendell and Wild” finally coming out – expect a review of that in the near future – I felt it was fitting to look back at one of his earlier shorts. “Slow Bob in the Lower Dimensions” was designed as a pilot for MTV, back in the days when they were showing a lot of weird animation. Its vague and extremely weird plot follows Robert Potemkin, a man who lives in the attic with his collection of talking iguanas. He can use the iguanas to enter an alternate universe, populated by living photographs. After saving the photo people from hostile scissors, Bob's conjoined twin sisters play a cruel prank on him. 

Even describing “Slow Bob's” plot doesn't give you a clear idea of how unusual it is. The iguanas talk in gravelly voices and they drip a strange fluid, Bob crawls around on the ceiling. In the house, Bob is played by a live actor. He receives a message through a spider web, the letters appearing in the silk. When he enters the photo dimension, he becomes a piece of cut-out animation and fights off a race of hostile, living scissors. His sister(s), meanwhile, are brought to life with classically Selickian stop motion effects. They torment Bob by painting him yellow and blue, leaving little X marks all over his clothes. The entire thing is given a sinister, ambient score from the Residents, who are exactly the kind of weirdos I'd expect this sort of thing to appeal to. 

Even as someone who likes weird shit, I'm a bit baffled by “Slow Bob.” It's such a concentrated blast of oddness, packing so much insanity into an eleven minute run-time. But you can't say that it isn't creative. In fact, the sheer number of odd ideas on-display here suggest a limitless amount of creativity. Everything is brought to life in an inventive fashion, from the frame-by-frame way the photograph people move. Or the odd ball way Bob moves around the house. I can't imagine the amount of work and details that went into such an elaborate production as this. I also can't imagine what a series version might've looked like. I can imagine Tim Burton loving this, which supposedly he did and that's why Selick directed “Nightmare Before Christmas.” I don't really know what to make of “Slow Bob” but it's impressive, that's for sure. [7/10]

Halloween 2022: October 26th

V/H/S/99 (2022)

Last year's “V/H/S/94” would successfully rebirth a series that most people thought was dead. The film was well received by critics and fans. It must've done good streaming numbers for Shudder as well, as a fifth installment in the series was greenlit immediately. “V/H/S/99” would gather together another group of indie filmmakers for an anthology of found footage horror. This time, the talent would include: Maggie Levin, of an episode of “Into the Dark;” Johannes Roberts, of the “47 Meters Down” movies and “The Strangers 2;” rapper-turned-filmmaker Flying Lotus, who previously made “Kuso,” Tyler MacIntyre of “Tragedy Girls” and “Patchwork,” and the husband and wife team behind “Deadstream.” 

Levin's “Shredding” follows a quartet of teenagers who sneak into a club, where a all-girl punk band burned to death a year before. Roberts' “Suicide Bid” concerns a pledge to a sorority, who is locked in a coffin as part of an initiation ritual. Next comes Flying Lotus' “Ozzy's Dungeon,” which follows a girl horribly injured on the set of a kid's game show. Years later, her family tracks down the host for revenge. MacIntyre's “The Gawkers” shows a group of teenage boys attempting to spy on the sexy woman across the street, unaware of what she really is. Finally, “To Hell and Back” has the cameramen for a coven of witches sucked into the infernal abyss while attempting to summon a demon. They improvise a plan to return home.

“Shredding” is probably the weakest of the segments in “V/H/S/99.” The teens are simply too unlikable. They spend the entire episode mocking their friend Ankur, which all but insures their punishment. Once he explains his belief that restless souls can possess the living, it's just a matter of waiting for that to happen. The make-up effects used to create the ghouls are a bit weaker than what you've come to expect from this series. The punk rock music heard throughout this segment does provide a fittingly rowdy energy. 

Things start to improve with “Suicide Bid.” This is a found footage take on a classic urban legend, of a sorority initiation ritual gone wrong. Watching it unfold is still effective. Seeing the protagonist panic inside the coffin is suspenseful. As it starts to rain, and her sisters run off, things get much worst. If “Suicide Bid” had just ended there, it would be horrifying enough. A supernatural element is then introduced, with a properly freaky inhuman face bursting into the scene. The only element of “Suicide Bid” that struck me as unnecessary is the twist ending, which puts too fine a karmic point on everything. 

The third segment in “V/H/S/99” is probably my favorite. “Ozzy's Dungeon” puts a twisted take on Nickelodeon game shows like “Legends of the Hidden Temple” or “Double Dare.” I watched  those shows constantly as a kid and appreciate the accuracy here. When the violent happens, the girl shatter her ankle on an obstacle course, it's squirm inducing. The segment then takes an even grosser turn, as the smarmy host gets a suitably ironic punishment. (In-between this and “Kuso,” it seems to me that Flying Lotus has a real fecal fixation.) Sonya Eddy is hilarious and terrifying as the raging mom, determined to avenge her daughter. The segment is not done catching the viewer off-guard, further bizarre twists awaiting. I like how this one captures a specific, nostalgic feeling in purpose of disturbing and sickening the viewer.

“The Gawkers” does the best job of capturing the year 1999. The hair styles and fashion choices the teenage boys make are hilariously on-point for this year. I'm talking mesh jerseys and frosted tips. 1999 appropriate technology, like transparent Apple monitors and cam-corders, are present. The boys are fittingly obnoxious but, unlike the kids in “Shredding,” I could relate to this level of douchy, teen boy horniness. The exact nature of the woman across is heavily foreshadowed, spoiling some of the fun in the monster-filled finale. (It also recalls the first “V/H/S'” “Amateur Night” a bit.) Yet I had a lot of fun with that one.

We wrap up with “To Hell and Back,” which is easily the funniest part of the anthology. Archelaus Crisanto and Joseph Winter have a very funny rapport as the hapless camera crew sucked into help. There's a flippant approach to damnation here that amuses me. Such as the witches' exasperated reaction to accidentally summoning an entity named “Fergus.” Or the interactions our heroes have with a personable damned soul named Mabel. She causes the final scene to even be kind of touching. There's some freaky demons down there in Hell. The special effects are clever, making what was probably a very low-budget set genuinely seem like a hellish vision. 

Overall, “V/H/S/99” is a solid addition to the found footage franchise. I don't know if there's anything here as freaky as “V/H/S/94's” “Sewer Drain,” part two's “Safe Haven,” the first film's final segment. It definitely does feel like, five entries in, that the specific ambiance of depravity that characterizes the first two movies has been lost. Yet I still really enjoyed this one. It gets off to a bit of a slow start but the last three episodes are all tons of sick fun. Bloody Disgusting and their associates are determined to keep this series going. Next year's installment, “V/H/S/85,” has already been announced. Hopefully that one will lean hard into the retro aesthetic you'd expect from that year. [7/10]

Something Weird (1967)

How many movies have named an entire home video company? Something Weird Video has been putting out extremely obscure and exceptionally strange motion pictures on VHS, DVD, and now Blu-Ray since the early nineties. The company's ability to dig up everything from monster kid backyard home videos, to vintage nudie flicks, to the lowest depths of exploitation schlock makes them one of the greatest archivist in the business. And, of course, the company founders took their name from Herschell Gordon Lewis' 1967 feature. Even by the standards of Lewis' particular style, “Something Weird” lives up to its name.

Mitchell is an electric company lineman who gets smacked by a live wire. The event leaves his face hideously burned but also gives him psychic powers. He encounters a witch named Ellen, who promises to heal his face in exchange for becoming her lover. It is at that point that the U.S. government recruits Mitchell. They specifically want his help tracking down a serial killer, whose been strangling women around the city. Mitchell and Ellen, whose spirits are intertwined, get involved with other people as the investigation carries on. A dose of LSD is what Mitch needs to uncover the killer's identity. 

Herschell Gordon Lewis was an exploitation filmmaker, through and through. He only made a movie if he knew there was a trend to capitalize on. “Something Weird” was a break from the gore movies that Lewis became most famous for. Instead, he was cashing in on a whole slew of late sixties buzz words. The spiritualism movement of the time pushed extra-sensory perception, witchcraft, and ghosts into the pop culture consciousness once again. The drug culture of the time brought acid to the public's attention. Naturally, the Kennedy assassination and the Vietnam War made government conspiracies a topic of debate as well. Lewis cooked up a bizarre, digression-filled plot that mashed all these divergent ideas together into one movie. He even throws in a little karate too!

One does not watch a Herschel Gordon Lewis movie expecting any of the cohesion or smoothness of a Hollywood production. Even by 1967, after making movies for six years, Lewis' techniques could best be described as crude. The framing is stationary and awkward. The sound mixing is off, with all the actors being badly dubbed and the musical score – largely composed of a jazzy bass riff – drowning everything out. The editing is shotgun blunt. The special effects were probably purchased from a dime store. The make-up made to turn shapely Elizabeth Lee into a hideous hag is unconvincing, to say the least. Foot chases ramble on for far too long. Not to mention the plot is a bizarre, incoherent mishmash of events. All of this stuff is part of the trash-cinema charm of Lewis' work. The stilted weirdness of Lewis' movies transport you to another world. They are outsider art, even if pure crass commercialism was always the director's intention.

Honestly, “Something Weird” might rank among Lewis' more polished productions. By moving the focus away from gloppy gore or nudie cutie shenanigans, the director's talent for raw strangeness moves to the forefront. The witch's powers, displayed with such awkwardness, struck the viewer as genuinely unusual. The sequence devoted to the ghost – largely unrelated to the plot, as it is – has a baffling eeriness to it. A levitation sequence is head-scratching. When the acid trip comes, it's actually rather striking in some ways. The vision of Mitch chasing Ellen through a red-tinted desert is the closest H.G.L. ever came to intentional arthouse pretension. And did I mention there's a scene where a man is attacked by a blanket? “Something Weird” has such sights to show us.

The result might be my favorite Lewis joint. As much as the gore movies have a special place in horror history, they could get tedious at times. Even “Two Thousand Maniacs!” drags a little. “Something Weird” is pure insanity from start to finish. It has the depravity of his horror movies, as the strangulation are plenty sleazy, but rolls along at a manic pace. (Insomuch as the zombie-like gait of Lewis' dialogue could be called manic.) It's even funny on purpose, I think. While I would never promote the usage of mind-alternating substance, “Something Weird” is as potent as a dose of good acid would be. Truly, nobody made 'em like Herschell did. [7/10]

Room 104: A Nightmare

I was impressed with the episode of “Room 104” – HBO and the Duplass Brothers' anthology series that could be about literally anything, as long as it was confined to a single hotel room – that I watched last year. I decided to sample another one of the scary episodes. “A Nightmare” is a starring role for Natalie Morales, of the short-lived but much loved “The Middleman.” It follows Jess, a woman sleeping in a hotel room. She awakens in the middle of the night, only to be confronted with a faceless man with a knife. She startles upright in bed, the scenario only being a nightmare... Only to awaken into another nightmare. She finds herself trapped in one horror after another.

“A Nightmare” was directed by Jonah Markowitz, of “Diary of a Teenage Girl.” He shows an aptitude for horror here. You figure out what's happening soon enough, that our protagonist is stuck in a cycle of nightmarish scenarios. Yet Markowitz' command of shadow and tone makes each scenario fittingly tense. In fact, the less elaborate “A Nightmare” goes, the more unsettling it is. The scariest scene in the episode involves Jess calling her mother, whose conversation grows increasingly more frenzied and concerned. Each of the set-ups here – a man in the room, a snake in a suitcase, hands under the bed – are universal enough that we can all understand them. 

In fact, “A Nightmare” gets at the root of the horror genre in a succinct way. Throughout her nightmares, Jess eventually meets with a more unhinged version of herself. She tells her that she can leave this dream anytime she wants, as long she's okay with facing the harsh light of day. Eventually, she confronts her nightmares and escapes, showing us that all of our fears can be overcome. If the execution is fifty percent of what makes this episode work, the other half rests on Morales' endlessly appealing shoulders. I forgot what an utterly charming, disarming presence she is. [8/10]

Robbie (1979)

In 2020, I watched a trio of British Public Information Films. Those are educational shorts shown to children in school that often became accidental horror movies, due to their blunt and violent content. The most intense of these films is “The Finishing Line,” a practically apocalyptic warning to kids to not play on railways. That one was so gory and grim that it was quickly pulled from circulation. It was replaced with “Robbie.” The titular lad is a schoolboy with two passions in life: Football (soccer to us yanks) and trains. While on the walk home from a game one day, his friends peer-pressure him into walking across a railway. Tragedy strikes as the boy is crossing. He's hit by a train and left horribly mangled. 

Compared to the “Battle Royale”-like horror of “The Finishing Line,” “Robbie” is a much more traditional public service announcement. It's narrated by avuncular British television personality Peter Purves, whose calm voice provides a generally even-handed mood to the entire short. He even talks over the actual kids speaking, making this seem all the more like a wise elder communicating vital information to a little child. The film's primary goal is education. It ends with a lengthy segment actually devoted to the mechanics of railways and what train operators see. There's also multiple versions of the film, to educate about the different types of rails that exist. No doubt useful information to British school kids in the seventies, though not very entertaining.

Also unlike the earlier short film, all the violence in “Robbie” is kept off-screen. The boy is even left alive by his encounter with a train, though a double amputee. Yet there is still a certain grimness to the film that is occasionally unnerving. When Robbie is struck, the camera focuses on his friend Sally, whose bloodcurdling screams are unforgettable. The shock leaves her bedridden and catatonic. His mother swears and freaks out, understandably, when given the horrible news. The final image is of Robbie's football cleats, hung-up and never to be used ever again. That does provide “Robbie” with a chilling factor, even if it's far dryer than the best PIFs I've seen. [6/10]

Halloween 2022: October 25th

Martin (1976)

Last October, the Living Dead Museum in Pittsburgh – one of several organization devoted to the late, great George Romero's career – uncovered something special. It was a 16mm print of the director's cut of Romero's 1976 classic, “Martin.” Running over three hours and completely in black-and-white, it's probably the biggest holy grail for Romero's fans. Honestly, I doubted such a thing even existed. One presumes that this print will be shared with the folks currently working on a 4K Blu-Ray release of the film. It's really needed too. I have the long out-of-print DVD, which is pretty grainy. The film isn't streaming anywhere either. Until that new release, “Martin” is one of those films that has slipped through the cracks. Which is a disservice to one of the director's best movies.

Martin arrives in Pittsburgh via train, to move in with Cuda, a strictly religious and elderly cousin. Cuda accuses Martin of being “nosferatu,” of carrying a vampiric family curse. Martin believes himself to be a vampire too. He doesn't have fangs, slitting his victim's wrists with razor blades and lapping up their blood. He doesn't have hypnotic powers, forced to sedate women with drugs instead. Yet he still claims to be in his eighties, despite looking like a teenager. Martin attempts to fit into the city, dealing with his uncle's hysteria, forming a bond with a lonely housewife, and sating his hunger for blood at night. 

Just as Romero invented one horror archetype with “Night of the Living Dead,” he brilliantly deconstructs another in “Martin.” All throughout the film, Martin flatly states that there is no magic. He refutes his uncle's superstitions, which means he's actually denying religion. The Catholic priests seen in “Martin” are either thoroughly modernized or totally inept. Martin discredits the pop culture version of vampires too. He mockingly dresses up as a classic vampire and talks about how all the cinematic clichés are ridiculous. “Martin” takes the undead creature of myth and places it totally within the modern context. There's no magic, no higher power here. It's an age of disbelief, thoroughly cynical in its approach to the impossible. 

Romero keeps the question of whether Martin is actually a vampire or not ambiguous. He claims to be in his eighties. All throughout the film, he has these black-and-white visions of life in a past time, doing his bloodsucking business in more a traditionally gothic setting. Yet it's easy to intuit that these are fantasies, because they are so idealized. He can easily lure the maiden into his arms in these dreams, when he has to drug her in real life. Martin isn't an immortal vampire. He's a disaffected kid. John Amplas plays him as so quiet that he barely speaks throughout the film. He's a misfit everywhere he goes, off-putting everyone who gets close to him. He uses his vampiric activities to fulfil his sexual needs, raping his drugged victims before killing them. When he talks about his bloodlust, he sounds more like a junkie than a vampire. He gets “edgy” when he goes too long without feeding.

There's a reason Martin recalls both a bored teenager, awkwardly defining himself, and a drug addict fighting his addiction. Romero and cinematographer Michael Gornick adapt a naturalistic look for the film. More than once, the cameras focus on the urban desolation of Braddock, Pennsylvania. Rowdy youths harass people on the streets. So many of the buildings look empty. The climax of the film involves cops and street toughs getting into a shoot-out. The seventies interior decorating can't help but look hopelessly sickly and tacky. Cuda's younger niece is deeply unhappy with her boyfriend, arguing all the time. Abby, the housewife who seduces Martin, is also miserable. This is a world of middle class desperation, people left behind by society. And you don't have to be a vampire to feel that alienation. 

Like most of Romero's seventies movies, “Martin” is slow paced. While something like “Season of the Witch” or “There's Always Vanilla” could be glacial, “Martin” lulls the viewer into a trance-like state from its first scene. The film frequently adopts a dream-like atmosphere, most apparent in Donald Rubinstein's ethereal soundtrack. This is further enhanced by the frequent conversations Martin has with a call-in radio talk show host, which often play in voiceover. The dreamy state is punctuated by more intense moment, such as Martin being surprised when a chosen victim has a man with her. The scrambling that follows is bleakly suspenseful, as we wonder if he'll get away with it. This was Romero's first collaboration with Tom Savini, who provides some memorable splatter in the last third. A huge burst of red takes the movie out on a hell of a memorable note. 

Romero would often list “Martin” as his favorite of his own movies. It's a striking motion picture, intense and unsettling but also deeply personal. One imagines that Romero's reflections on growing up in a nowhere town where inspired by his own life. It brings the vampire legend into the modern day in such a smart, deconstructed manner that no other film has really done that better. The performances are fantastic and the film leaves the viewer unnerved and strangely touched. I don't know if it needs to be three hours long. The theatrical cut of the film is very tight, at 95 minutes. Yet I'd happily watch more of “Martin,” another masterpiece in a long line of 'em from one of the genre's greatest directors. [9/10]

Pumpkinhead 4: Blood Feud (2007)

In retrospect, it seems like such a weird idea. None of the “Pumpkinhead” movies had been especially profitable. The original just barely broke even in the theaters. The second one came out during the peak years for direct-to-video sequels but apparently didn't do well enough to prompt a third film at the time. Yet clearly someone thought there was more blood to be squeezed from the “Pumpkinhead” stone in the 2000s. The third and fourth films would be shot back-to-back, coming out mere months apart from each other. I can only speculate on how these two did, as far as TV ratings and DVD sales go, but it's notable no further films would follow. But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. What about “Pumpkinhead 4: Blood Feud?”

“Blood Feud” is ostensibly set in the modern day, or at least after the original “Pumpkinhead,” as it references the events of that film. Yet it's also about the Hatfields and the McCoys. As in the famous feuding hillbilly broods of the late 1800s. The animosity has existed between the two secluded families for years now. Yet Jody Hatfield and Ricky McCoy have still managed to fall in love. Ricky's younger sister Sara watches out for the couple as they meet up. That's when some Hatfields attempt to assault Sara, accidentally leading to her death. Torn apart by grief, Ricky seeks out Haggis the witch and Pumpkinhead is summoned once again. Jody soon sees her family torn apart by the actions of her lover. 

“Pumpkinhead 4” was directed by Michael Hurst. I have no familiarity with his work but I definitely remembering see “The Darkroom” and “Room 6” warming video store shelves back in the day. Whatever his strengths or weaknesses might be, Hurst clearly excels at one thing. “Blood Feud” is easily the goriest of the “Pumpkinhead” movies. The monster's oversized claws performs two separate disemboweling in this film. He stomps a head into pulp. Another head gets crushed inside a giant bear trap. Once he gets into the Hatfield home, Pumpkinhead gets to tearing people apart. Aside from some unfortunate CGI, the monster is once again created through solid practical effects. And the same can mostly be said about the blood and guts. 

Unfortunately, “Blood Feud” really drags whenever the demon isn't on-screen. The conflict between the two families is not horribly interesting. The origins of the feud are explained in a few scenes, yet it still seems like these two oversized gangs are just pissed at each other for stupid reasons. Outside of Jody and Ricky, none of these hillbillies are developed all that much. They are mostly regressive, redneck stereotypes that aren't especially distinctive or memorable. The arguing and fighting between the two families takes up a lot of screen time here, frequently pushing the monster off-screen. It's hard to think about this as anything but a budgetary decision. Hillbillies yelling at each other, and arguing about a decades old grudge, is a lot cheaper than a towering vengeance demon 

The script is both dull and obvious. Now that we're on the fourth “Pumpkinhead” movie, I think the theme of the futility of revenge has been well explored by now. Once again, another character learns the horrible cost of seeking vengeance. Once again, someone is forced to feel the pain Pumpkinhead causes his victims. (Though this one is inconsistent by that.) In order to remind us of these themes, Lance Henriksen shows up as a ghostly Ed Harley everything fifteen minutes to reiterate them. This gets specially overwrought in the finale, as Ricky and Jody are forced to confront what they've done. It's hard to take this stuff too seriously in general. Even more so when these ideas are regurgitated by actors with badly dubbed Southern accents. 

Lance Henriksen, for the record, has had unkind things to say about the two “Pumpkinhead” sequels he appeared. He seems to genuinely regret doing them, calling them “alimony movies” and disparaging them repeatedly. Honestly, I think they both could've been a lot worst. At least the creature effects are decent. “Blood Feud” is much weaker than “Ashes to Ashes” but both rank closer to mediocre than the full-on atrocities Henriksen thinks they are. More recently, Paramount has been developing a reboot of the series. Which might not be the worst idea. “Pumpkinhead” still has a lot of potential, which none of the sequels did much with. As of now, it's one good film, a schlocky but fun follow-up, and two mediocre cast-offs. [5/10]

Creeped Out: Kindlesticks

I was impressed with the previous episode of “Creeped Out,” a British horror anthology for kids that gained wider exposure after appearing on Netflix, I watched. Season two episode “Kindlesticks” intrigued me because “Pontypool's” Bruce McDonald directed it. Esme is a babysitter who delights in frightening the kids she's paid to watch. She usually talks Josh, the boy she likes, into pretending to be a monster that scares the kids up to bed. When paid to watch a boy named Ashley, Esme expects another ordinary night. Yet Ashley proves harder to scare than most. He claims his imaginary friend, Kindlesticks, is unamused by Esme's antics. At first, the girl assumes the kid is pretending. Soon, she discovers that Kindlesticks is very real and very upset with her. 

Sad to say, “Kindlesticks” is a lot preachier than “The Many Places.” The moral here is clear and repeatedly stated: Treated others with respect, especially when you're being paid to do a job. Esme is a manipulator, putting on a happy face for the parents and scarring the kids into doing what she wants. Yet she can't seem to get anywhere with Josh, who is oblivious to her advances. Ashley, meanwhile, is impervious to her tactics. Once Kindlesticks makes his presence known, the girl is repeatedly humiliated. She's shown pictures of the kids she's traumatized. She's forced to confess the motivation behind her actions. It's a little too spelled out for my taste. 

However, “Creeped Out” still earns points for being a kids show that goes for real scares. The sound design here is pretty good, as the invisible fiend goes about tormenting the babysitter. A piano is well utilized, as is a sequence involving the shadow of a spider. I think a scene where a cell phone is tossed back and forth was a bit much for me. Yet this does build a decent amount of tension, even if the writing is a bit obvious. The twist ending also managed to catch me off-guard, even if it's obvious in retrospect. [6/10]

Captain Voyeur (1969)

Before he was probably the most respected and influential cult filmmaker of our time, John Carpenter was merely a film student at the University of Southern California. The very first movie he would make is “Captain Voyeur.” The brief, seven minute short follows an office drone in a computer building. He is fascinated with a co-worker of his. At night, he goes home and slips on a mask, becoming Captain Voyeur. He sneaks around, spying in the homes of his neighbors, getting much more than he anticipated. 

From a technical perspective, “Captain Voyeur” is pretty rough. There's no synced sound or music. Long portions of the short are strangely silent. The acting on display is mostly clownish, with Jerry Cox overacting with his eyes as the title character. There's also not much in the way of story here either. It's simply a tale of a masked voyeur spying on a group of homes, seeing a different kinky scenario through each window, before he gets what's coming to him. Not much to it. 

Yet “Captain Voyeur” is still fascinating for a few reasons. First off, you can see the earliest signs of the filmmaker Carpenter would become. There's several long tracking shots in this short, showing that as a trademark that was in place right from the beginning. There's definitely shades of “Halloween” here as well, in these scenes of a masked intruder creeping around people's private residences. Though Captain Voyeur is far goofier than Michael Myers. “Captain Voyeur” is also interesting for being far kinkier than Carpenter's late work. Sex doesn't play that big a role in too many of his movies, so it's surprising to see him get so perverse so early in his career. I don't know how interesting “Captain Voyeur” would be if it wasn't made by a future legend, yet I still found it worth watching. [6/10]