100 Scariest Movie Moments: #60 The Beyond

I think the best way to start my review of The Beyond is by discussing the opening scene…

In New Orleans in 1927, a young man named Schweick (Antoine Saint-John) is attacked and killed in a hotel by locals who claim that he’s a “Warlock.” He cries out that the hotel was built on one of the seven “Gates of Death,” and that he’s the only one who can save them.

Why do I highlight this scene​? Because I’ve watched the movie three times and still don’t have a clue if he was actually evil or not. Beyond that, I also don’t know if killing him was a wise move that delayed the evil, or a foolish move that provoked it.

It seems to be a common issue with most Italian horror. Sure, there’s a plot in there somewhere that you could sift through. But do you really want to bother understanding why a man’s face is being eaten by spiders, when you could simply sit back and enjoy it?

The protagonist of the film is a woman by the name of Liza (Catriona MacColl), who inherits the hotel. She begins to experience strange occurrences. She encounters a blind woman named Emily (Cinzia Monreale) who her love interest John (David Warbek) insists doesn’t actually exist. He says that Emily’s house is abandoned and has been for some time. Liza also begins seeing a book, called the Book of Eibon, which mysteriously disappears from the local book store with the owner insisting it never existed at all. Eventually, Emily tells Liza that many years ago, everyone in the hotel disappeared mysteriously.

This movie was made long before the fad among movie enthusiasts of interpreting events as existing entirely in the main character’s head, so the director doesn't even bother hinting at that, thankfully. Yes, people think she’s insane, but they’re wrong. Because other characters experience the supernatural phenomena as well, but typically only once it’s attacking them.

The movie was probably made even weirder by the fact the producers demanded that zombies be included. Director Lucio Fulci wanted a movie about people dying in a haunted house, and characters periodically being attacked by zombies certainly does shake the mood up a bit. However, I don’t think this is a bad thing. It’s a movie about the strange and bizarre, so something happening that really makes no sense is more than welcome.

If anything, the ending of the movie makes too much sense. John and Liza pass through the portal and find themselves in a desert, being blinded by the blowing sand. This gives us a convenient explanation for Emily’s origin; she escaped from this place. Still, I’m not sure how this directly ties into most of the other strange happenings, beyond “evil desert made them happen.”

I should also note that as with most Italian horror, the score is absolutely fantastic. It’s emotionally charged, and manages to be both exciting and creepy at the same time.

It’s unfortunate that this movie is so hard to find through legal channels. I wasn’t able to find it available to stream, and Netflix had it on very long wait for quite a while before removing it from their DVD listings entirely, so I had to just suck it up and buy the DVD. That being said however, was it worth it? Yes, yes it was.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #61 The Devil's Backbone

Watching Guillermo del Toro’s Spanish-language films is always fascinating. If you listen to him in interviews, when he talks about his English-language work, he usually only talks about how much fun those projects are in themselves. But when he talks about his Spanish-language work, he talks about what the project means to him on an emotional level. And speaking personally, I think this is largely an issue of budget. Because if a Mexican studio gave him the budget of Pacific Rim, then we’d probably just be watching a movie about giant robots punching giant monsters with subtitles.

Del Toro said he had two concepts that he wanted to communicate with The Devil’s Backbone, both of which I think are seen clearly in the film. The first is the idea of a ghost as a person trapped reliving the same experiences over and over again. My understanding is that this is, in fact, his literal belief.

The second point he wanted to make was that childhood is not a happy time. Being a child, and therefore powerless, is scary. He feels that most film makers have forgotten what it’s like to be a child, and he wanted to capture the real sense of the experience.

The movie takes place during the Spanish Civil War and is centered around an orphanage. A young boy named Carlos (Fernando Tielve), not knowing that his father has been killed, is taken to the orphanage for what he believes to be a temporary stay. And while there, he discovers that there’s an unexploded bomb dropped by Franco’s military sitting in the yard, and a mysterious, ghostly presence haunting the building.

The villain of this movie, Jacinto (Eduardo Noriega), is probably one of the better movie villains I’ve seen. He’s a young man who grew up in the orphanage and now works there. Notably, the first time I saw this movie, it actually took me by surprise that he was the villain. That may partially be because I was expecting Franco’s forces to arrive, but also because he’s portrayed quite sympathetically. He’s gruff and unpleasant, but he’s also in the middle of the Spanish Civil War. Furthermore, he seems to display at least some level of empathy with the children due to having grown up there himself. But his eventual revelation as a villain is handled with enough build-up to make it believable.

I somewhat question the need for the ghost aspect of this film. The ghost is of a young boy named Santi, (Andreas Muñoz), who was previously murdered by Jacinto, and whose death has not been discovered. The rest of the staff think that he ran off when the bomb fell. The tragedy of his death was tangible enough without the supernatural elements. In fact, I don’t believe that there was a single plot point in this movie that couldn’t have been established, or a single thing that couldn’t have been accomplished by mundane means instead of through this supernatural contrivance. So I’m tempted to say that the ghost would have worked better if its existence had been left ambiguous. However, the visuals are effective enough for me to really, really like the ghost, so I’ll allow Del Toro to have it.

Jacinto’s motivation in the film is to get his hands on some bars of gold which the orphanage is holding. When he’s eventually forced to leave, he returns with a gang of thugs to kill the adults and blow up the orphanage in an effort to get into the safe. This forces the boys to take up arms against Jacinto. Luckily for them, Jacinto is abandoned by his own gang, who are not nearly stupid enough to stay at the orphanage while the war escalates all around it.

The final confrontation is disturbing, primarily because of its novelty. A group of children craft handmade weapons and kill an adult entirely of their own volition. Usually, children wielding the power of violence without adult assistance is something reserved for fantasy. The closest analogy I can think of is Hard Candy, and there’s a strong argument to be made that Haley was entirely in Jeff’s head in that movie.

The movie still ends on a bitter note. Jacinto’s death hasn’t changed the fact that the kids are in the middle of the Spanish Civil War with no one to protect them. Del Toro has also confirmed that the ghost is still repeating his own tragic death, even with his spirit avenged. So in the end, Jacinto’s death achieved nothing beyond the removal of an immediate, physical threat.

I do recommend this movie. It’s creepy, fun, and has a better idea of what it’s like to be a kid than most Hollywood films. I don’t think anyone is going to run screaming from it, and certainly it has its depressing moments, but this isn’t a bloodbath, it’s a tragedy.

Wednesday Review: Trick 'R Treat: Days of the Dead

This is the closest to the wire I've come when writing a Wednesday Review. As I write this, it's Monday morning (as I edit it it's Tuesday), and my breakfast is cooking (ditto). The reason I've waited so late (for me, anyway) is that I'm utterly intimidated by this subject matter. Trick 'R Treat is my favorite movie of all time, so the idea of reviewing any continuation of it is frightening, because I have a simultaneous desire to both love and despise the work.

I'd like to begin by saying that Days of the Dead is definitely not Trick 'R Treat 2. The comic deals with four, mostly unconnected stories, set centuries apart. I get the impression that Dougherty knew some of his stories would be too expensive to adapt with any budget likely to be given to a Trick 'R Treat movie, so he gave us the major events in Sam's existence in comic book form. I expect the actual movies will continue to consists of nights that, from Sam's perspective at least, are relatively uneventful.

The premise of the comic is that a little girl is frightened by Halloween, and her grandfather tells her four stories in an effort to make her more comfortable going trick-or-treating. During the stories the two sit on their front porch, with the grandfather carving a pumpkin, creating an obvious visual reference to Charlie and Principal Wilkins from the original film.

As with Trick 'R Treat Sam's role is not prominent in all the stories. Here, he's an active participant in only the first two, reversing the structure of the original film, where Sam's story was told last. These two stories give us a much greater incite into Sam's origin, nature, and true power. The movie showed us what happens when Sam get's annoyed, here we find out what happens when he gets mad.

The reason for this flip in the structure seems to be two-fold: Firstly, the stories are told chronologically. More importantly, the comic has an in-universe narrator, telling the stories in ascending order of personal importance. The final story is the only one that happened within his lifetime, and thus the most significant to him.

The art is very...ok. Each section is done by a different artist, in a different style. However, I'm not sure if this was an artistic choice, or merely one of convenience. The first and third stories (“Seed” and “Echoes”) go for more stylized art, while the second and last (“Corn Maiden” and “Monster Mash”) are drawn more realistically. I can't find any pattern there, and I somewhat suspect they had four different artists due to time constraints. “Corn Maiden” in particular is a baffling choice, being set in a time and a culture far more removed from the narrator than “Echoes,” I would have expected it to have the more abstract style.

As for my opinions on the quality of the stories, I'd say they vary quite significantly. They're not bad. Dougherty doesn't really write “bad,” but this doesn't match the perfection of his Magnum Opus. I'd say “Seed” and “Monster Mash” are easily the best of the bunch, with “Corn Maiden” coming in third. The first and last stories alone, however, are easily worth the price of the comic.

I sincerely hope that Trick 'R Treat 2 is on it's way. It's unlikely to live up the original's glory, but Sam is still desperately in need of another run. Until then, however, this nice little comic book should tide us over.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #62 The Wolf Man

I don’t think The Wolf Man belongs on this list. That isn’t anything against the film itself. It’s enjoyable and entertaining, and as a Universal Monster fanboy, I love it. I can even see how, to people at the time, it might have been mildly frightening. However, it’s a Hayes Code film through and through. And as a result, even by the standards of its own day, it has nothing that could be considered the slightest bit “shocking” or “controversial.”

I feel that in order to underscore this point, I need to compare it to two other films on the list, Frankenstein and Cape Fear. (Naturally, both of these movies will have their own reviews in time). Frankenstein was released in 1931, before the Hayes Code was strictly enforced. And for that reason, it was able to flaunt some of the morals of the day. In fact, Frankenstein is particularly infamous for the line “In the name of God, now I know what it’s like to be God!” This line was so shocking to audiences of the 1930’s that it was cut from later re-releases, and thought lost for decades.

On the other hand, Cape Fear was a movie dealing with rape that used the Hayes Code to its advantage in creating fear. And for this reason, it is arguably more effective today than at the time of its release. While the villain, Max Cady, is clearly intended to be a rapist, no one ever says the word “rape.” But through the use of euphemisms we get the idea that these are people who recognized the thing Cady has done, as well as the thing he’s planning to do, as being so horrific that they can’t even give voice to the word.

However, The Wolf Man is neither of these. Instead, it’s a neuter. A fun, entertaining neuter to be sure, but a neuter nonetheless. It was produced by the Hollywood system and contains no material that isn’t entirely assembly-line. If anyone needs proof of this, consider the original script for the movie which dealt seriously with the possibility that Larry (Lon Chaney, Jr.), who was a mechanic hired to install a telescope rather than the heir to the estate, was not a werewolf, but simply delusional. If that film had been made instead, we would have only seen the Wolf Man through reflections from Larry’s perspective, something the executives couldn't allow.

Instead, the story we’re given is paint-by-numbers. Larry Talbot, the heir to an estate in some part of the UK (despite his complete lack of an accent... not that it matters, since all references to the estate being in Wales were removed, to avoid offending the Welsh with the suggestion that they believe in werewolves!), comes home after his brother dies, and is bitten by a Romani (simply called a “gypsy” in the film) named Bela (Bela Lugosi), who turned into a wolf (for some reason a four-legged one), causing Larry to become a (two-legged) Wolf Man himself. This eventually culminates with his own father (Claude Rains) beating him to death with a silver-headed cane. The villagers find his completely human body, and are appropriately confused by what happened. However, we as the viewers, have absolutely no question about what happened.

The closest thing we have to a serious challenge to the sensibilities of the viewers is a brief scene in which a Romani woman explains to a priest that deaths should be celebrated, since his own religion teaches that the dead go to a better place. However, even this feels calculated, as if to say “see, we can still shock you!” while not actually questioning or challenging any religious beliefs likely held by those in the audience.

I would say that both the first sequel (Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man), and the Benecio Del Toro remake do more to challenge the viewer. The former deals with Larry discovering that he’s actually immortal, (he can be revived under certain circumstances), and attempting to end his life forever. Sadly, that film was mutilated in the editing room to make the latter half almost so bad it’s good. The remake is at least appropriately shocking, even if it still takes quite a stretch to convince yourself that Larry is delusional.

At this point, you’re probably having trouble believing me when I say that I like the movie, but it’s completely true. I think Chaney gives a great performance. Not only here, but in every movie in which he played Larry Talbot (a role which he reprised four times). Claude Rains as Larry’s father also does an excellent job of portraying a loving but rational parent. And although Lugosi’s role is small, he’s still Lugosi, and he can elicit both fascination and sympathy, even when playing an ethnic stereotype.

That being said, please watch the movie, but don’t watch it expecting to be scared or challenged. I'm fairly certain they put it on the list solely to complete the Big Three of Universal Horror (Frankenstein, Dracula, and The Wolf Man). It has a place there, less so here.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #63 Deliverance

One thing I’d like to ask in advance before I even begin this revew: Why in the Hell did the dueling banjos scene from Deliverance become a iconic symbol of redneck horror? The banjo redneck has nothing to do with the assaults on the protagonists, and the entire scene comes off as quite friendly. While the banjo player (Billy Redden) later becomes standoffish (he seems to have autism and is uninterested in outsiders beyond the music they play), he certainly never harms a fly as far as we can tell. Somehow though, through pop cultural osmosis, the scene has come to be associated with a prelude to redneck rape, and the banjo player has become a member of the gang.

The premise of the movie is that four Atlanta businessmen (Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds, Ned Beatty, and Ronny Cox) decide to canoe down a river that’s about to be flooded by the construction of a new dam. They go down the wrong branch of the river, and end up in a confrontation with two locals (Bill McKinney and Herbert Coward), which results in one of their party, Bobby (Beatty), being raped and one of the attackers dying with an arrow through his chest. So concerned that local familial relations will lead to an unfair trial if the death is discovered, the men decide to simply bury the body, let the flooding cover it and move on down the river.

I think Burt Reynolds’ character is supposed to be unlikable in this film. He’s the experienced outdoors man, and he’s responsible for taking out the redneck rapist. But he also likes to throw his weight around, and he’s also the one who proposes disposing of the body. Plenty of movies love showing that the big, tough guy isn’t nearly as impressive as he thinks he is, but this is usually played for laughs. In this movie though, it’s quite dramatic and realistic. He knows more about the outdoors than the others do and he’s a good shot with a bow, he’s also wildly overconfident and becomes helpless once wounded in a canoeing accident.

Only one protagonist actually dies in this movie, Drew (Cox), and in a fairly non-gory way. In fact, debates have been raging for decades regarding whether he was shot, fell into the river by accident or committed suicide. Personally, I think it looked as though he jumped. However, the film itself makes the psychological trauma the real danger.

The remaining rapist is disposed of fairly easily. He may or may not have shot the dead man, but he’s taken out shortly afterwards. The remainder of the film pits the men, first against the elements, and then against their own fear as they reach the town and are forced to lie about the events; hoping that no conclusive evidence of the encounter comes to light, and that they won’t be betrayed by one another.

The final act does come across as a bit contrived to me. The townsfolk know that a member of their party died and that another was wounded. They also know that two local men went off hunting and haven’t yet come back. I find it rather strange that they would see these two things as being connected, since vacationers getting hurt on the rapids and two rednecks losing track of time in the woods should both be fairly common occurrences. However, it seems to be implied that the police are well-aware of what probably happened, but can’t hold them due to lack of evidence. I suppose that an omniscient police force was necessary to give a final bit of kick to the film.

This is a good movie. The rape scene was disturbing, but the remainder of the film was primarily a well-acted, well-directed drama. I recommend it.

Wednesday Review: Prime Cuts

Prime Cuts, Volume 1 can be purchased at IndyPlanet.com; please visit www.primecutsnovel for more information.

 

This is a first for me: the first time I've been asked by the makers to review a product. I was quite surprised. I don't exactly have a large readership. But I'm more than happy to do it. I was also excited when I found out that it was written by John Franklin (Isaac from Children of the Corn), and Tim Sulka (his co-writer for Children of the Corn 666: Isaac's Return).

That said, I wish I had something good to say about this comic. I really have racked my brain for something positive or something I enjoyed about it, and I just have nothing. I didn't especially hate it, it isn't really long enough to hate, but it doesn't seem to know how to tell it's own story.

The first volume is short enough that I can't reveal too much without spoilers, but I'll cover what I can.

Firstly, I can tell the artist is going for an abstract style, but when proportions change so much between panels, it just looks sloppy. There's no real sense of weight or speed given to anything, even in scenes depicting acts of violence. They just look goofy.

More significantly, though, is the story. It's quite obviously a retelling of Sweeney Todd, but the comic still needs to hammer this home when the protagonist calls himself “Todd Sweeney.” Todd is a barber released from a prison run by monks into a world suffering from a meat shortage, and is sexually assaulted by two different people who give him rides on his way to take revenge on the barber who killed his family. I'm not going go spend this review debating the merits of sexual assault in horror, but I will say that I don't know why it needs to happen twice in a volume already so short.

I could probably still deal with all of this if the characters were remotely compelling, but the story moves too quickly for real development. The woman who seems intended as Todd's love interest seems to help him for...reasons. I suspect the writers were limited in how many pages they could include, and wanted to make sure that something significant happened before the end of the first volume to draw the readers back in. Personally, I think they would have had better luck with flashbacks, or even flash forwards.

I've tried hard to find something good to say about this comic. My readers know I can usually find good qualities even in crappy works. But here I just have nothing. Unless you really want to read a comic by Isaac, skip this one.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #64 Near Dark

Yet another movie with a relatively simple plot, in which I’m forced to just ask the question “did I find this film scary?” And, once again, the answer is “Hell yes!”

When I say that it's "simple, I don't mean that the same way I do for many other films, however  The plot doesn't merely provide a reason for the people to be present before a string of horrible things that happen to them. In this film, things are complicated slightly by B-plots, such as a love story and by the story of a family searching for its lost son. However, these aren’t really the major focuses of the film.

A young man named Caleb (Adrian Pasdar) tries to pick up a drifter named Mae (Jenny Wright), not knowing that she’s a vampire. It’s unclear if the writers intended Caleb to be a “nice guy” or a creeper, but he certainly does come on quite aggressively. Eventually though, Mae bites him and he’s forced to join her vampire family while his own family searches for him.

The movie is unusual in that it doesn’t treat the mere state of being immortal or undead as horrific in and of itsellf. Nor does it attempt to overtly demonize the vampires. They’re bad because they live by killing people. But the vampires as individuals can be quite affable, and Caleb doesn’t necessarily dislike them. However, they have a rule that all members of their clan have to be willing to kill, and the logic behind this is actually sound. The alternative to killing is to have another vampire kill for you to provide blood. Obviously, this seems like a coward’s way out to both the characters and the viewers.

The movie is scary because the characters’ motivations make sense. They’re basically a group of drunken rednecks riding from one massacre to another, having fun along the way. They actually seem like the kind of people you might realistically meet at an out-of-the-way bar, and I could imagine enjoying a game of poker with them. However, they’re loyal to themselves and to their own; a perfectly sympathetic motivation, but one that leads them to do terrible things.

They kill people without hesitation, and even with enjoyment. Towards the end of the film, a child vampire, Homer (Joshua John Miller), even wants to turn Caleb’s young sister (Marcie Leads) so that he’ll have a companion trapped with the same eternal youth as him. Once again, this is a sympathetic motivation, and it also ties together the story of Caleb’s family searching for him with the main plotline.

While I don’t deny that this is a bloody movie, to me, the horror comes from how humanized the villains are. There’s one fundamental truth here; the fact that we all believe we have a right to live. When it’s us or someone else, we always choose us. Therefore, when dealing with others, we can do the math. “One vampire that lives to 300 will slaughter X number of innocent people, so by ending one life, we save many more.” However, that whole equation changes the instant we’re the vampire in question.

I feel a little as though I’m missing the point of this movie. Like I should be talking about Bill Paxton slaughtering the inhabitants of a bar, or making reference to how awesome Lance Henrickson is in literally every role he’s ever played, including this one. But that’s not what I personally came away with from this film. I came away having experienced a story about life and morality which, by the way, also happened to have awesome performances and a lot of blood.

I recommend this movie. *Insert pun about it having bite.*

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #65 Marathon Man

Tvtropes has a term, “Unbuilt Trope,” which refers to situations in which earlier examples of a storyline or plot device being used in fiction are darker and more realistic than their later imitators, and Marathon Man embodies this perfectly. Most movies that show a normal person being caught up in a spy thriller make the situation out to be exciting wish fulfillment, Marathon Man is a horror film. There’s a reason why the film is best remembered for the main character being tortured by a Nazi dentist.

The plot is complicated, but it follows a historian and amateur marathon runner named Thomas “Babe” Levy (Dustin Hoffman). Unknown to Babe, his brother Doc (Roy Scheider) is secretly a government agent who works with less-than-reputable types. Doc is fatally wounded by a diamond-smuggling Nazi dentist named Christian Szell (Laurence Olivier), and runs to Babe’s apartment before he dies. This naturally leads Szell to conclude that Doc gave Babe some crucial information before he died. But, of course, he didn’t.

The movie also plays with the question of where our Government ends and “organized crime” begins. We’re told at one point that our government protected Szell in exchange for information on other Nazis. However, it’s never made clear how many people are involved in the cover up, or just where the authorization for it came from. But such distinctions are pedantic, because the fear is generated by the realization that none of the people in this kind of shadowy world, Government agents included, really care about one completely innocent person being tortured by a Nazi. Once again, this is an idea that’s been used many times as a plot device, but very rarely played to its full horrifying, bone-chilling potential

Dustin Hoffman gives an excellent performance as well. He’s exactly as scared as any real graduate student would be if he suddenly came into conflict with a Nazi war criminal. He never comes across as weak. In the scene for which the movie is named, he escapes and outruns Szell’s men. At the same time, his idealism makes him someone we can really root for.

As for Olivier, he plays an excellent villain. Aging actors often seem to have a choice between playing the villain and playing the grandpa, and I think the former is always preferable. It takes real experience to avoid ham when playing a bad guy, and Olivier gives us a pragmatic man who is concerned exclusively with what benefits him directly. In fact, I honestly get the impression that if he could have made more money as an accountant than a Nazi, then this whole incident would never have occurred.

I find it somewhat sad that the dental drill torture scene is the best remembered part of the film, because I consider a later scene to be far more deserving, even though the “victim” is reversed. In the final confrontation Babe threatens to throw all of Szell’s diamonds into a water treatment plant, but tells Szell “you can have as many as you can swallow,” and then forces Szell at gunpoint to actually swallow one. I’m a bit unclear in this scene if Szell expects to poop it out later, or is afraid he’ll be shot if he doesn’t comply, but it’s effective either way.

When film buffs tell you that the 70’s was the greatest decade for Hollywood, this is the kind of movie they were talking about. The performances are subtle, the plot is as complicated as it needs to be, (needless to say, I simplified it quite a bit to make my review more palatable), without concern for the audience being unable to understand it, and the direction is excellent. I strongly recommend it.

Wednesday Review: Tales of Halloween

My original intention for this review was A Scout's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse, but that film isn't playing less than a two hour drive from me, so I decided to go with Tales of Halloween instead. It's been getting tons of buzz in the horror press, and it's a recent film, in theatres or not. Honestly, I was afraid that with the number of horror films coming out this time of year I wouldn't get the chance to cover it, so it's a happy accident.

I didn't realize going in that this film's segments were by different directors. I initially expected something in the spirit of Trick 'R Treat. In fact, I'd even say that the opening sequence and music is intended to evoke that film. The actual movie, however, is much closer to The ABCs of Death. Ten, relatively short segments, in wildly different styles, all of which are completely independent aside from some narration by a Halloween-night DJ, and a number of callbacks in the final segment that confirms that all the stories happened in the same town on the same night.

It would be easy to spend this entire review doing nothing but comparing it unfavorably to Trick 'R Treat, but obviously that would be unfair to this film, so with that I end references to the other Halloween anthology.

The segments here vary in quality. I wouldn't say that any of them are truly “bad,” at their worst they're unmemorable. At their best, they're pretty good. Most of the monster makeup is convincing enough, but also fairly generic. Most of the filmmakers know how to use it effectively, though, and most of the stories are reasonably original.

By far the best story is the second, “The Night Billy Raised Hell,” in which a poor unsuspecting kid attempts to prank his neighbor, not realizing it's the Devil. The way in which little Billy gets his comeuppance is both hilarious, and cruel. I was legitimately surprised and unsettled by just how far this segment went. Then again, what do I expect from Darren Lynn Bousman?

Other notable segments include “Sweet Tooth” by by Dave Parker, about the revenge of a trick-or-treater denied his candy, “Friday the 31st” by Mike Mendez, which pits a serial killer against an alien who came to Earth to trick-or-treat, “The Ransom of Rusty Rex” by Ryan Schifrin, in which two kidnappers take the wrong kid, and “Bad Seed” by Neil Marshall, notable for an evil genetically engineered pumpkin rampaging through the town.

Ideally, I would have probably reduced the number of segments, to give more time to develop each story. They're decent as they are, but we really don't get to know the characters, and most stories have just enough time for a single twist, then cut to the next segment. We don't really get to dwell on what we've just seen, or watch the horror unfold gradually.

I do recommend this movie, at least enough to rent it on demand. I can't see myself watching it a second time, but I don't think I'm going to forget it either. If there's a sequel, I'll probably watch that as well.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #66 The Tenant

Necessary preamble: Roman Polanski is scum, and there is no movie he can direct that would change that. This movie and Rosemary’s Baby are both on this list, and I’m not going to skip these films just because they were directed by man who would later go on to rape a 14-year-old.

How does one go about reviewing a movie that’s known mainly for making frighteningly little sense? The entire point of the film seems to be that strange things happen, and it’s entirely unclear how much of it is in the mind of the main character, and how much of it is real. If the events are real, then all the characters are doing things that make no sense. If they’re artistic metaphors for his mental illness, then the Hell if I know what Polanski is trying to say, other than “paranoia sucks.”

Polanski plays the main character (although bizarrely, he does not credit himself as an actor), a young man named Trelkovsky. During an apartment shortage in Paris, Trelkovsky is able to negotiate an apartment whose previous tenant, a woman named Simone (Dominique Poulange), had jumped from the window and is near death. The apartment complex is populated primarily by paranoids who spy on each other and regularly file complaints against anyone who makes the slightest amount of noise. Trelkovsky gradually becomes convinced that somehow his neighbors are trying to manipulate him into assuming the identity of Simone. He believes this is supposed to end with him jumping to his death as well. So he responds to this fear by… putting on makeup, high heel shoes, a wig, and a dress.

…See what I meant about this movie making no sense? I literally do not know how to describe the plot in a way that is more comprehensible on a literal level than what I just told you.

Early in the film he goes to visit Simone in the hospital. Possibly out of empathy, and possibly to reassure himself that she wouldn’t recover and retake the apartment. He finds himself attracted to her friend, Stella (Isabelle Adjani), and they begin a relationship, with Stella under the impression that he was a friend of Simone’s. This serves primarily to give the film what small amount of grounding it has. Whenever something insane happens, Trelkovsky can visit Stella, and gradually open up to her. If nothing else, this allows us to know what he thinks is going on. Whether or not it relates to any literal reality is quite another matter. However, by the end, he is even suspicious of Stella, leaving us with nothing to grasp onto in our attempts to understand the film aside from his demented rantings.

Part of me wants to say this movie is simply about a man struggling with mental illness, but that isn’t really accurate. It’s clear that many scenes, such as the neighbors playing football with human heads or clapping before Trelkovsky jumps from his balcony, are unlikely to have been what actually happened. At the same time though, there are some scenes that seem to lend a certain degree of weight to his beliefs, while still being realistic enough to be taken at face value. The most obvious of these is the way in which the local café always serves Trelkovsky exactly what Simone usually had, without him ordering. And when he tries to order something else, they're conveniently out.

So, where does is the line in this film between reality and psychosis? I have absolutely no idea. It’s a bizarre, creepy, and unsettling movie. I highly recommend it!

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #67 Duel

I’ve debated whether or not Duel deserves to be called “the only Made-For-TV movie to make this list.” The version I watched was the extended, 90-minute version, specifically made for theatrical release in Europe. That said though, it never got a theatrical release in its country of origin (the United States) as far as I can tell, and it was made to be shown on television. However, I’ve decided that this is a stupid question to be asking, and I’ve limited myself to “this is a good movie, that we probably wouldn’t remember if it hadn’t been directed by Steven Spielberg at a time when no one cared who Steven Spielberg was.”

The movie is about at traveling salesman (Dennis Weaver) who passes an 18-wheeler. The driver, who we never see clearly, passes him back in a fit of road rage. This game continues until the next stop. And from there on the movie becomes a game of cat-and-mouse from one stop the next, with the truck driver becoming increasingly aggressive and increasingly violent towards the salesman, eventually trying to kill him.

It would probably be a mistake to say that either character undergoes “development.” We don’t find out a lot that’s significant about the salesman, and we find out nothing about the driver. However, in place of traditional development, we have the two characters gradually adapting to the situation. The salesman’s priorities shift as the driver becomes more aggressive. Initially, he’s simply concerned about getting to his destination. Then he’s concerned about avoiding the truck driver. And finally, he’s simply trying to ensure his own survival.

The truck driver meanwhile starts out as merely being annoying before his driving becomes frantic and dangerous. This creates a fairly episodic narrative, in which the tensions gradually rise as the incidents between the two drivers become increasingly deadly. For the first hour or so of the movie, the truck driver seems unwilling to harm the salesman while witnesses are around. So the salesman is able to stop at a diner to reflect on his situation, as well as seek out a confrontation with the truck driver in person. However, this doesn’t work out, since he’s unable to determine which diner patron is the truck driver.

The final straw which brings us into the last act of the film appears to be the salesman trying to contact the police. The truck driver levels the phone booth, and from then on pays no regard to witnesses. His sole focus is now murder.

The movie is not realistic. There are times when the salesman is out of the truck driver’s sight, so logically he should have the option of taking another route or turning around entirely, but this option is never even considered. His only attempt to simply avoid the truck driver is to stop his car by the side of the road and take a nap, which proves completely ineffective since the truck driver simply waits for him. Still, the purpose of this movie is not to portray a realistic method of dealing with road rage. It’s to put two characters into conflict, from which only one of them can emerge. That’s literally in the title of the movie.

Of course, I suppose that you could justify the duel portrayed in this film as simply being a matter of pride. Dennis Weaver does an excellent job of establishing the salesman as cocky, but not unlikable. Meaning that towards the end of the movie, his attempts to “win” the duel don’t necessarily come across merely a struggle to survive, because he’s scared. He’s also mad, and that shines through the performance.

The movie also benefits vastly from a premise that allows most of it to be shot on ordinary roads with two vehicles. It never feels cheap, although the budget is clearly quite low. This is more or less what it would look like if an insane truck driver tried to kill a travelling salesman.

This is a fun movie, and I recommend it. It’s short enough that it doesn’t overstay its welcome, and while plenty of Spielberg’s later work may have been better, I really don’t see any flaws in this movie to speak of.

Wednesday Review: Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension

I hate this series. Just being completely honest upfront: I don't think these movies are subtle, I think they're boring. I could probably count on one hand the number of times all five previous films combined scared me. Perhaps they're more effective in the theater. Prior to this film I'd only seen the third in theaters, but whatever the reason, they just don't work for me. Cloverfield was more effective in theaters as well, but that film was at least still enjoyable on DVD.

That said, however, this is probably the best film of the series. There are some decent ideas here, and some legitimately scary moments. In fact, if it wasn't for the fairly atrocious overuse of CGI this film could almost be a saving grace for the entire series, finally accomplishing the kind of subtlety the earlier films were going for.

The first twenty minutes of this film are actually quite promising. A new family moves into the house that was built on top of Katie and Kristi's burned childhood home. They discover tapes from the previous film, and more significantly find a custom video camera with an unusual design, that seems to pick up things not visible to the naked eye. The father, naturally, starts playing around with it almost immediately.

Sure, the idea of ghosts being visible when filmed is old, but this film actually starts out doing the idea fairly well. Since the camera is at least three decades out of date, it's footage is often blurry, and it becomes legitimately hard to tell when the camera is simply being glitchy, and when it's picking up something that shouldn't be there. During this early part of the movie, we see strange dots hovering, and the occasional strange after-images. I actually think the outdated nature of the technology works to the benefit of the film, since most young people wouldn't even know what is or isn't normal for video tape recording (my father had one, but the technology was obsolete long before I was old enough to handle it).

After this opening act, however, the film eventually goes the full-on CGI route, with the demon being plainly visible to the camera for most of his appearances. The fact that the father in this film seems to spend more time reviewing the footage of Katie and Kristi being trained as witches, along with the occasional scene from previous movies, rather than his own demonic videotape is just baffling. I'm honestly unsure if he even knew that a demon, made of something between fog and floating oil, seemed to be forming next to his daughter's bed every night.

The movie eventually turns into Poltergeist, with the demon attempting to abduct the family's daughter through a portal in her bedroom. I suppose that old aphorism is true, “when in doubt, copy a better movie.” I'm not a major fan of Poltergeist, but it at least gave this film some clear sense of direction, rather than the pointless meandering of the previous entries in this series. The ghost had a clearly defined goal, and the protagonists had to endeavor to stop him.

One final thing I will say about this film, without spoilers: the ending is probably scarier than anything else that has ever happened in this franchise. It takes an idea from a previous film, and uses it more effectively. The result is legitimately unsettling. It doesn't necessarily make up for this film, let alone the previous five, but in and of itself it made me uncomfortable, which is something.

I don't think this is likely to be the final Paranormal Activity film as advertised. This series is still consistently turning a profit, and the films have still left plenty of questions unanswered. If there is another film, I hope they at least follow Ghost Dimension's example and give us a plot that moves forward meaningfully. Don't get me wrong, this film is bad, but at least it's bad in a way that's somewhat entertaining.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #68 The Black Cat

Reviewing The Black Cat makes me think of Michael Bay. Not in terms of how similar they are, but in terms of how different. The Black Cat was made in 1934, a time when film was still relatively new. I doubt there was a single person responsible for the production of this film who grew up saying they wanted to make movies for a living. And as a result, the tools of the trade had not been fully developed. That’s not to say that the filmmakers did a bad job, and there are some good shots. However, much of the movie feels like a stage play that was filmed. Although the only thing I find to be outright bad is the editing, which is often quite sloppy by even the standards of Dracula; a film that preceded this movie by three years.

Compare that with Bay, who grew up not only with film, but grew up with movies made by people who grew up with film. After three or four generations, directors like Bay now know exactly how to film and edit every shot to get a reaction from the audience, even in the complete absence of story and character.

So, in watching The Black Cat, I’m uncertain of precisely how to grade it. Even if I go purely by the acting, I know that I’m watching performers who’d not yet fully realized that they didn’t need to emote more for the people in the back row. This is particularly true when watching Bois Karloff, who has an incredibly strong screen presence.

The movie’s awkwardness with the conventions of film does work to its advantage for its introduction. Rather than framing the entire set-up within the expectations of the horror genre, the introduction could have led to almost any story. It’s simply a casual meeting on a train, and the horror comes from the events that follow that meeting.

Beyond that point, the movie is a story of ideas rather than blood splatter. Horror legends Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff are brought together by this film, probably the best remembered of the handful of movies they did together. Lugosi plays a Doctor by the name of Vitus Werdegast, and Karloff a Satanist named Hjalmar Poelzig. Fifteen years earlier during the First World War, Poelzig arranged to have Werdegast sent to a concentration camp, from which he had finally been released. But while Werdegast was out of the way, Poelzig had married his wife, raised his daughter, (presumably) killed his wife, and then married his now grown daughter (both wife and daughter are played by Lucille Lund).

Obviously, under normal circumstances, this film would be all of five minutes long as the two men attempt to kill each other, so the story throws in a complication. Two honeymooners, Peter and Joan (David Manners and Julie Bishop), are on the train with Werdegast, and Joan is injured. Werdegas takes them both to Poelzig’s house, and they pose as friends. Werdegast wants to keep them out of the crossfire, and Poelzig wants to sacrifice Joan to Satan, so he must avoid scaring her off. Meaning that for the moment, they must both be civil. On top of which, Poelzig also lies, saying that Werdegast’s daughter is dead before he arrives. Werdegast later finds out that Poelzig killed Karen after he arrived, hammering in his sense of failure at protecting her.

The plot is fairly complex for a one hour running time, but the scene that is most remembered, and rightfully so, is the scene in which Lugosi skins Karloff alive. I’m not going to deny that this scene is impressive. However, I find what came before it far more impressive. Both Lugosi and Karloff do an excellent job of portraying two men with the barest concealment of their rage. The most intense scene between the two to be the chess scene earlier in the film, when they play for the safety of the honeymooners.

Overall, if you like old films, then this is a classic that should be watched more than it is. So, I strongly recommend it.