100 Scariest Movie Moments: #43 It's Alive

It’s Alive is a movie that takes an absurd premise and infuses it with a strong sense of psychological reality. In doing so, it creates something which genuinely scares us as we fear for people who we feel could very well be real, and also weep for the tragedy of the concept. While the movie is dialogue heavy, all of the actors are good enough to sell it.

It opens with one of the few childbirths in film that consists of more than just screaming. Lenore (Sharon Farrell), pregnant with her second child, wakes up and tells her husband Frank (John Ryan) that it’s time for the baby to come. Their preparations are quick but calculated. It’s made clear that they’ve been through this with their first child, Chris (Daniel Holzman). Even though the birth is difficult, Lenore is able to talk to the doctors quite coherently through most of it. The screaming doesn’t start until after the baby is out, and you can’t really blame her for that.

The movie was inspired by director Larry Cohen visiting a hospital and seeing a newborn crying. Seeing the fury of that child made him imagine that if it was given any real degree of power everyone in the room would likely be killed in blind rage. The child of Frank and Lenore is that newborn, with fangs and claws. It kills everyone in the room, except for its mother, and escapes from the hospital.

From this point forward in the film, Frank serves as our primary protagonist. He asserts no connection to the child, claiming that his only concern is his wife’s well-being and the safety of his family. I think the choice to make Frank the protagonist likely comes from an unspoken doubt. Frank was down the hall when the slaughter occurred. Lenore, being in the middle of the room, was clearly spared by the child. So I imagine Frank is wondering throughout this film that if, by coincidence, he had been standing in the room, would the child have recognized him as its father? And if it had, then would it have cared?

This isn’t a movie that gives you easy answers. It’s not the child’s fault that it has so much power. The scenes of violence are punctuated by its cries, reminding us that its mind is no different from every other child ever born on the planet. We realize that under these circumstances we, or our own children, would have behaved in exactly the same manner.

The movie actually spends fairly little time on the child, though. We periodically see cuts to it out in the world, killing someone to remind us of the threat. The movie is more focused on the suffering of the parents as a media circus surrounds the birth. The single most disturbing scene in the film doesn’t even have the child in it. And that is when Lenore discovers that a nurse offering her “comfort” was concealing a tape recorder, hoping to be able to sell some new aspect of the story to the press.

In general, this isn’t the most positive portrayal of humanity. There’s ample discussion of what to do with the child’s body after it’s inevitably killed. The options are either study it, or destroy it so it can’t be used as evidence in a lawsuit against a pharmaceutical company. Frank agrees to sign the body over, but we see his conflict. He does it because he’s afraid of being branded as the child’s father, and hopes that giving it up will prevent that.

In the final act, Frank becomes increasingly aggressive. The child finds it ways home, and both Lenore and Chris attempt to protect it. Frank on the other hand is determined to kill it personally, either to stop the rampage, or to permanently remove a stain from his reputation. Notably, the child never attacks a member of its own family, even when Frank is shooting at it.

At the end, Frank is the one to locate the now-wounded child, but finds he can’t kill it in such a state. He attempts to flee with it, but is cornered, and asks them to take it for study but to let it live. The police refuse, insisting that he step out of the way so they can kill it immediately. Then, it leaps from his arms, attacks another man and is shot dead, showing that Frank overestimated the severity of its injuries.

Even the ending doesn’t make the situation simple. Clearly, wounded or not, the child was still dangerous. At best, it didn’t attack Frank because he approached it gently, or more likely just didn’t attack him because it recognized its father. Sure, that sounds appealing, but it doesn’t change the fundamental fact that this child, malicious or not, simply could not be controlled or contained.

This is a movie I’d recommend to anyone. The opening is much stronger than the rest of the film, but it still stays solid throughout. It’s a movie that leaves a lot unsaid, because it doesn’t need to be. It’s a movie that makes you afraid of the monster, but also makes you cry for it. I know Cohen eventually directed two sequels, dealing with the birth of more mutated children, and I’m actually interested to see them. This is a concept good enough to be the basis of more than one movie.

Wednesday Review: The Boy

OK, this movie is just bad. It's not simply below my expectations, and it doesn't get better as it continued. In fact, it's twist was so stupid that I wished I could rewind time to a point where I didn't know the twist. If it caused any major plot-holes I missed them just gaping at how lame the whole idea was. Even before the twist, however, there was nothing in this film I could relate to, and thus nothing I cared about or was frightened by.

The premise is that a woman named Greta, fleeing her abusive ex, goes to England to take a job as a Nanny. As it turns out the boy she was supposed to care for, Brahms, died in a fire twenty years earlier, and his parents adopted a porcelain doll to act out their roles as parents, treating him exactly as if he were their real son. The couple are planning to be away from the house for some time, and have a long list of daily rituals they expect Greta to perform with their “son,” including reading to him, playing music loudly, and making food to be thrown away.

This gives us our first problem: While Greta pays some brief lip-service to “exploiting” the old couple, once she accepts the position she makes no attempt to do the job she was being paid for. It's established that she's being paid a large salary (her sister mentions that her weekly payment is “more than I make in a month”), and has free room and board in a gigantic house. While we've all been a bit lazy when our bosses aren't looking, I simply don't relate to someone who doesn't make the slightest effort to actually earn her salary, regardless of whether or not she considers her job pointless. So, why should I feel sympathy for this woman?

Naturally, strange things start happening. Brahms moves without explanation when no one is looking, and objects are strewn around strangely. Greta begins experiencing bad dreams as well. She's told by the “grocery boy” Malcolm, who makes deliveries to the house, that Brahms was an “odd” boy. As she grows to believe that his ghost is real, she also begins to question if the ghost is really friendly.

The doll isn't really all that creepy, honestly. While the film avoids an over-use of jump scares, it forgets to put anything else especially frightening in as well. It isn't helped by the fact that the situation is completely unrelatable. I have no concept of living alone, in a giant house, taking care of a doll, and I seriously doubt that's something I will ever get the chance to experience. Unrelatable experiences can work in film, if you draw the audience in with the characters, but no one here is especially likable.

Then, the twist hits. It comes way too quickly, and instantly turns the film into a totally different type of story. It's like From Dusk Til Dawn except not a comedy, and without the skills of Robert Rodriguez.

Save your money. If you're very, very drunk the film might entertain you on DVD. I can't imagine any amount of alcohol will make it worth a movie ticket, though.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #44 The Game

The most truly shocking moment of The Game comes near the beginning, when Nicholas “Nicky” Van Orton (Michael Douglas) sits down to watch the news and hears a story about a Republican attempting to force small businesses to provide health insurance to their employees being blocked by Democrats... my, my the 90s were a different time.

I like this movie, but I don’t understand the people who believe it’s a masterpiece. The movie is fun, but it’s so unrealistic that I have trouble becoming immersed in it. The idea that it’s possible to subject numerous human beings to this type of “Game,” and not face numerous criminal charges and lawsuits is just outright silly.

The premise of the movie is that Nicky is a control freak whose father committed suicide on his 48^th birthday. Nicky’s 48^th birthday is coming up, and there’s an unspoken concern among his friends and family that he might follow in his father’s footsteps. He’s divorced, not well liked, and doesn’t really seem to have much fun.

So in light of this, Nicky’s brother Conrad (Sean Penn), gives him a “Game” for his birthday. Theoretically, this Game will serve to make his life “interesting,” but he can’t be told what it will consist of. Reluctantly, he agrees to undergo the initial screening for it.

The Game itself consists of an escalating series of events that begin as apparently random accidents, such as his briefcase failing to open, and eventually turn into an apparent conspiracy to destroy him. He nearly drowns in a cab and is left for dead in Mexico. Throughout the film he’s being followed and given conflicting information from various sources about where the Game ends and the real world begins. You pretty much have to accept that every single person in this entire film is in on the Game except him.

Early in the film, Nicky encounters a waitress named Christine (Deborah Kara Unger), who appears to have been caught in the crossfire between him and the Game's controllers. It’s eventually revealed that she’s a member of the organization, although as the movie goes on, her ranking in the organization keeps getting upgraded as the conspiracy grows. She initially seems to have been a one-time hire, then a low-level con artist. By the end, she seems to be one of the main orchestrators of the Game.

He eventually determines that the company running the Game, Consumer Recreation Services (CRS) is attempting to seize his assets and those of his company. How this works, and how they wouldn’t all be immediately arrested for such blatant theft, I don’t pretend to understand.

The problem with this film is really hammered home by the ending… It really was all a Game. It’s contrived enough that are CRS able to predict Nicky’s actions with such certainty that they can have an airbag waiting when he attempts to jump to his death. However, they can also be sure that he’ll be completely satisfied now that they’ve drugged, assaulted, and robbed him (...oh, but they’re going to give back the stuff they took, naturally...), and thus he won’t sue them.

I really think this movie would have worked better as an Indie film. It would have been far scarier to see a smaller conspiracy attempting to destroy a man’s life and take everything he owns. As it is though, I don’t for one second believe that such a company could ever do or get away with this sort of thing, or for that matter, even exist. And without that engagement, the movie never really scares me.

That said, the movie is worth seeing, but not as a horror movie. Instead, it’s a roller coaster. You’re more likely to find yourself laughing than screaming, but a good laugh is still worth the time.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #45 The Wicker Man

Something occurred to me while re-watching The Wicker Man. It’s actually the closest Hollywood has ever come to accurately portraying any form of Paganism. It’s a film that portrays modern Pagans as performing human sacrifices, but at least it makes Paganism more Religion than super-power, and doesn’t have anyone invoking the Devil.

The movie deals with a very devout Christian police officer, Sgt. Neil Howie (Edward Woodward), who comes from mainland England to an island of Pagans over a report of a missing girl (Geraldine Cowper). From there, a large portion of the plot is fairly meandering, mainly because the people of the island are so uncooperative. First, they claim that the girl doesn’t exist. Then later, they claim that she’s dead. Meanwhile, he scoffs at various Pagan rituals, letting everyone know at every opportunity that he’s a judgmental jerk. But eventually, Howie begins to suspect that the girl is still alive. And he also believes the people are planning to sacrifice her.

The twist ending of this movie is what it’s most known for. The girl is alive, and she was merely bait. While it's implied they would have sacrificed her in the absence of another option, they specifically wanted an adult virgin (Howie was waiting until marriage), with the authority of the king (a police officer), who was a fool and had come to the place of sacrifice of his own free will (he dressed up as Punch, the fool, to slip into their ritual in an attempt to save the girl). So Sgt. Howie ends up being burned alive in the titular Wicker Man.

Many have discussed how to interpret the main character, who is himself clearly a complete dick. He would not be entirely out of place in the Deep South today. And while it’s understandable that he would be bothered by Religious traditions associated with May Day being taught in public school, he seems equally shocked that Christianity isn’t being taught.

The tone of the movie is wildly different from any other horror film I’ve ever seen, to the point where I’m uncertain what to compare it to. It largely plays out as a mystery with tension mounting, but there’s not a lot that is genuinely disturbing. Of course, that could just be because I have a much higher ‘Shock Threshold’ than people in the 1970s, as I don’t consider people dressing up in strange costumes, having sex or getting naked and dancing to be all that disturbing. However, Sgt. Howie is clearly bothered by it.

The ending of the movie. Though, is truly terrifying in that the entire affair is made out to seem surprisingly logical (…for a human sacrifice performed by an insane cult). The islanders are able to rationalize away the fact that they’re committing murder on the basis that Sgt Howie, being a Christian, is rewarded by dying a martyr’s death, and expects to be resurrected anyway. The fact that they feel absolutely no guilt about doing something so horrifying and are happily singing over his screams of agony is unforgettable. This movie is an absolute classic, and I would recommend it to anyone.

...Oh, and Christopher Lee is in it. Yes, he’s awesome. Isn’t he always?

Wednesday Review - The Revenant

 

I think these past two weeks have shown me just how much expectations affect our enjoyment of movies. While watching The Revenant I was startled to realize just how much more I enjoyed The Forest a week earlier. The difference in expectations should be fairly obvious. The Forest was a 90-minute January horror film, that needed only provide me with a few good scares to satisfy me. The Revenant is a 150-minute DiCaprio epic, widely expected to finally secure an Oscar for its star. The problem with the film, however, is not remotely DiCaprio. He gives an awesome performance.

Anyone who reads Cracked.com already knows that very little of this story actually resembles what happened to the real Hugh Glass. The man really was attacked by a bear while on a trapping expedition, and abandoned for dead by his companions. However, the film adds in a dead wife, a murdered son, a kidnapped Native American princess, and her tribe searching for her and killing random white people under the assumption they had something to do with her disappearance.

Of these subplots, the only one that actually improves the story is the murdered son (who is half Native American so the film can squeeze in scenes of the US Army murdering Glass' fictional wife). John Fitzgerald, the man who decided to abandon Glass, kills his son in front of him when Glass was too wounded to interfere, and convinced another companion to leave him in an effort to cover up the murder.

I suspect that the subplot about the Native Americans was added to justify their aggression, and avoid accusations of racism. However, I think most people in 2016 know the general causes of the Plains Wars, and “they're trapping on our land!” probably would have worked to give us the opening raid that sets the plot in motion. If we're following a man who's been mauled by a bear, we don't need to add action scenes for him to survive any more than we needs scenes of him trying to diffuse a bomb.

On top of all of this, we get periodic dream sequences. What do these add? They tell us that Glass is sad that his wife and son are dead. That really seems to be it, because we as the audience couldn't figure out that Glass was unhappy about his son being murdered in front of him.

Why am I bringing all these up? If you've seen the movie you know that all the things don't really take up that much time. However, that's not the point. This film is primarily driven by the story of man dragging himself out of a grave, and back to civilization. The film should be about endurance for the audience, watching his pain, as much as for Glass. Every time they cut away from him, whether it's for a dream sequence, watching the Native Americans trade with the French, or just to see what Fitzgerald is up to, the movie is weakened, because the experience of Leo's performance is diluted.

As an aside, I also hated this movie's ending. Not to give away the details, I'll say that the movie attempts to have its cake and eat it to. The result is a climax that makes Glass out to be a massive hypocrite, and far less sympathetic.

Would I say I won't recommend this film? No, I'd say it's worth seeing. However, I would likewise say that it's not worthy of the praise it's currently receiving. Maybe wait for the DVD.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #46 The Sentinel

The Sentinel came out a year after Roman Polanski’s The Tenant. It’s a short enough gap that I doubt Polanski’s film had any direct influence on it. However, they both rely on the premise of a protagonist moving into an apartment surrounded by insane neighbors and being increasingly unsure of what’s going on. However, I personally find Polanski’s film to be far more effective, as it deals primarily with psychological horror, rather than Religious, and his ending gives us fewer answers.

Alison Parker (Cristina Raines) is a fashion model and actress who fears commitment to her boyfriend, Michael (Chris Sarandon). Her father was an adulterer, who kept her mother trapped with financial dependency, and Alison doesn’t want to repeat her mother’s fate. We’re treated to a flashback of Alison walking in on her father having a three-way with two other women, leading Alison to attempt suicide.

Wishing to continue living alone, Alison moves into a brownstone apartment with a reasonable rent. She finds her neighbors to be strange, but friendly. The most prominent neighbor is an eccentric old man named Chazen (Burgess Meredith), who greets her with a cat in his arm and a bird on his shoulder. They all seem to dislike a blind priest though, Father Halliran (John Carradine), who lives in the apartment above Alison. After going to a party with her neighbors, Alison suffers from nightmares about them and begins to see strange things.

The real bombshell is dropped quite casually. Alison comments that her neighbors are noisy to her landlady (Ava Gardner), and the landlady informs her that no one except she and the priest live in the building. In a modern film, this revelation would quickly lead to the protagonist taking some action, but as there’s nothing for Alison to do about non-existent neighbors except doubt her own sanity, that’s all she does.

Over time, it becomes clear that the people she’s seeing are demons. All of them are dead and have been condemned to Hell for various sins. The building sits on a doorway to Hell, and Father Halliran is the titular Sentinel who keeps the demons from escaping. As Halliran is dying, though, Alison has been selected by God to be the new Sentinel. It’s made clear this is not an honor. The role of the Sentinel is given to a sinner as a form of penance, so that he or she can enter heaven. For Alison, it’s her sin of attempted suicide. The demons hope to avert her destiny as a Sentinel by driving her to suicide, thus freeing themselves.

The movie’s major weakness is its tendency to cut away from Alison. Bringing up The Tenant again, that film kept us uncertain of reality by never giving us information from any source other than our (possibly insane) protagonist’s point-of-view. Whereas on a number of occasions, this film shows us scenes where Alison is not present, usually to give us additional information about Father Halliran, the line of Sentinels or the damned souls. These scenes are mainly through the eyes of police, or of Michael. I think this was a huge misstep, as it would have been very easy to have them present the information which they’d gathered off-screen to Alison, leaving the truth more ambiguous.

The movie does shine however as a Religious horror, mainly due to its lack of judgment. Typically, Hollywood sucks at dealing with Religion. The vast majority of movies (horror or otherwise), that deal with Religious ideas fall into one of three categories: 1) Big-budget God is non-denominational and friendly, 2) Low-budget God likes a lot of Bible quotations and Kirk Cameron, or 3) Low-budget God is evil and defeated by the power of Atheist rantings.

This film however simply takes the idea that the basics of Catholicism are true, expands on them a bit with the idea of Sentinels and shows us the results. The movie doesn’t tell us if it’s acceptable for God to damn those who disobey his will or force the life of a Sentinel on Alison. It also never tells us if the demons are wrong to call him a “Tyrant.” We’re left to make those decisions for ourselves.

Beyond the abstract, the movie’s visuals certainly deliver. A lot of the demon make-up is simple, but still gut-turning. At one point, Alison sees her deceased father and stabs him in panic, leading to further guilt and self-doubt. It’s a perfect mixture of gore and scary ideas.

The moment I find the most unsettling though is very brief. Father Halliran and another priest show up at the last moment to chase away the demons and avert Alison’s suicide. Chazen begs Alison and the demons “Resist! Resist!” The line is disturbing because, taken out of the context of the story and visuals, his voice has the sound of both desperation and concern. He seems to legitimately believe that the power of God is a force that must be fought against, despite the overwhelming odds. Without any intense Religious debate, this one line leaves you uncertain if the good guys actually won at the end.

I think that how people react to this movie will likely vary heavily according to their Religious backgrounds and personal experiences. However, I can say that it left me feeling uncomfortable. I still hold that the movie could have been far more effective by showing less and telling more, but even in its current state, it’s a movie well worth checking out. Not as good as Polanski, but that’s a high standard. Besides, at least you won’t have to say “I watched a movie directed by a rapist!”

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #47 Nosferatu

I find myself wondering the exact time at which silent film became a complete cultural non-entity. Surely, for a time after their demise, people still recalled specific silent films. However, it seems that today, there are only five silent films considered important enough for even your average film buff to know: The Birth of a Nation (known mainly for making the KKK the good guys), The Phantom of the Opera, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, London After Midnight (known mainly for being the holy grail of lost films), and Nosferatu.

It’s fairly well known that Nosferatu was originally supposed to be an adaptation of Dracula. Stoker’s widow refused permission, so the director simply changed the names of the characters and relocated it from England to Germany. The widow sued and all copies of the film were ordered destroyed. But thankfully, the US didn’t recognize foreign copyright claims at that point, so a few copies that had been sent to the States survived.

Dealing with the substance of the movie, I find myself comparing the film to The Black Cat; a talkie that came out twelve years later. In my review of that film, I noted that it felt very much like a stage play that had been filmed, made in an age when the capacities of the camera were not yet fully understood or appreciated. The results were a level of subtlety not really appropriate to filmed media.

In contrast to this, though, Nosferatu seems to go in the opposite direction, leaving the notion of a stage play far behind it. Instead, everything seems physically exaggerated to compensate for the actor’s inability to express emotion verbally. Facial expressions are over-the-top, characters are dressed to appear as caricatures, and Count Orlok (Max Schreck) is a monster who can barely pass as human.

The thing I find striking about the film is that it inverts the usual plot-structure of Dracula adaptations. While we still follow the basic premise that the good Count wants to buy a house in a far-off land, does so, and then goes to that distant land to seek fresh blood, the majority of the film is used to build-up to his arrival. For this reason, we get a great deal of time spent on Orlok’s relationship with Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim), this movie’s version of Jonathan Harker, who came to sell him the house.

There’s a very strong implication of homo-eroticism coming from Orlok. While he’s eventually defeated by Hutter’s wife sacrificing herself to keep him distracted as the sun rises, this is literally a deus ex machina the director came up with because he didn’t have a better way to kill Orlok. (It’s also the origin of vampires being harmed by sunlight). For much of the film, his goal seems to be to prey on, or even seduce Hutter himself. You could even interpret his decision to attack Hutter’s wife as another form of attack on Hutter.

Orlok himself is one of the most original vampires I’ve seen, most likely because he came about before their image in popular culture had been established. It’s not uncommon for vampires in modern films to copy his white skin and bald head, but never his rat-teeth. The association with rats was Orlok’s, and Orlok’s alone.

This movie is definitely worth a watch for anyone who’s interested in the history of film, although many of the truly frightening scenes you’ve probably seen as stock footage and homages throughout the years. Still, check it out.

Wednesday Review: The Forest

I unconditionally recommend this film. That is not a phrase I expected to type in a review of this movie. It had all the tell-tale signs of a truly awful film: A pretentious premise, a January release date, a complete lack of anyone from Japan in the creative process of a movie about Japan, and a director whose Notable Works on Wikipedia start with a marketing campaign. Walking into this movie I was already thinking up insults.

The film is the story of a woman named Sara who goes to Japan seeking her sister Jess, who disappeared into the “Suicide Forest,” where many people go to die (yes it's a real place, but I've seen gag mangas from Japan use it, so I'm not going to be overly critical of it's use here). She and Jess apparently share a psychic link, and so thoughout the film she's convinced that her sister is still alive. She's accompanied into the Forest by a man with an American accent who writes for an Australian magazine, and a Japanese man who patrols the forest for dead bodies and potential interventions..

The first act of this film is exactly what I expected: a complete mess. Looking back, I recognize why. The film tells you in the very first scene that Jess has gone into the Suicide Forest. This basically leaves the movie with no momentum until Sara enters the Forest herself, and so we're treated to scenes of “exotic” Japanese people giving Sara dire looks and warnings about how dangerous the Forest is, mixed with flashbacks and bad dreams. Honestly, I really wish it wasn't too late to re-shoot the first half-hour of this movie with Jess disappearing mysteriously, and a gradual build-up to a reveal of where she went.

Once in the Forest, however, the film changes. Sara begins to see strange things, and hear voices as she hunts for Jess. We get a mixture of supernatural, psychological, and realistic horror that melds seamlessly together. At various points Sara may be going crazy, may be under psychological assault by evil forces, or may be in actual, physical danger. The film actually leaves a number of questions without definitive answers.

As for the ever popular jump scare? They were there, but they were done well. Only once, to the best of my memory, were we given a loud noise to make us jump with no further significance. Instead, we get very predictable jump scares...from things we're supposed to be afraid of. The evil spirits of the Forest appear to Sara, and we're afraid because evil spirits are scary.

I don't want to give away the ending, but I will say that I didn't see it coming. I was expecting the story to be wrapped up in a neat bow, but what I got was much messier, and far more fulfilling. If you're going to see a January film, I don't think you're likely to find one better.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #48 The Thing

John Carpenter is distinguished from almost every other great horror director in one respect: his rejection of the idea that ‘Nothing Is Scarier.’ He doesn’t seem to reject in principle the idea that the human imagination can create a horrifying monster through the power of suggestion, but he’s been very clear in interviews that he thinks it’s a technique that’s overused in Hollywood. He’s even said he believes Val Lewton, a man praised for pioneering this technique, is overrated. And The Thing was his conscious attempt to avert this by actually showing the audience something truly terrifying.

Because of this, it may seem bizarre that he drew inspiration from Lovecraft; a man known for writing stories in which the monsters were so indescribable that they’re left primarily to the reader’s imagination. However, this does make sense. At the Mountains of Madness, the story that was very obviously a major inspiration, was written later in Lovecraft’s career when he was shifting towards a more descriptive style, and does give the reader enough information to form a mental image of the horrors being described.

Furthermore, one thing that unites both Carpenter and Lovecraft is fear of the ‘Other.’ Neither of them is ever eager to make evil out to be the nature of humanity. Instead, evil is either a corruption or perversion of humanity, or even something entirely outside of the human world. Even in Halloween, a movie about a theoretically human killer, Carpenter emphasizes that he has “the blackest eyes, the Devil’s eyes,” to show us that Michael Myers is not a human in the sense that we recognize the term.

The premise of the movie is that an alien organism in the Antarctic, having destroyed a Norwegian research station, infiltrates an American station in the guise of a dog and begins infecting and assimilating the inhabitants. They become aware of the invader very quickly when they find a dog in the process of being assimilated. The effects should satisfy any lover of body horror. However, this still leaves them unable to tell who is or isn’t the enemy.

The movie does an extremely good job of mixing mystery with explanation. Certain rules are clearly established, such a when the Thing infects you, it replaces your cells with copies; identical under a microscope, but alien none-the-less. When you’re infected you will briefly take on an inhuman appearance, then return to your normal form unless it’s necessary to take on another form to defend yourself. And finally, we learn that each part can live and react independent of the original body.

At the same time, however, the Thing is a black box. John Carpenter has said that he had discussions on set of whether or not characters knew when they had become the Thing, only to realize there was no way of knowing. Every viewer can form their own opinion on whether the Thing is malicious or innocent, but ultimately there is no way to provide any real evidence either way on the thought process of a being which is so inherently alien.

If there’s ever been a movie which gave you a real sense of paranoia, then this is it. The characters all know that if they don’t maintain civility, then they’re doomed. But they also know that some of those among them are inhuman. So they each make their best guesses, along with the audience, regarding who is the Thing and hope for the best. However, it’s clear that they all know that the odds of them misidentifying at least one of their contemporaries as human or the Thing are high.

While pretty much the whole cast is good, the stars (and longest-survivors, of course) are clearly Mac (Kurt Russell) and Childs (Keith David). While both of them have strong, commanding personalities, they maintain a demeanor of exasperated professionalism throughout the film. These are people who were clearly on edge from being stuck in the Antarctic with the same people for months at a time, even before the infectious alien monster showed up. But they’re still people who you could see being given these jobs.

The effects are absolutely spectacular. As mentioned above, John Carpenter’s stated goal was to actually show you the monster for a change, and it worked. Whenever the Thing comes out we’re treated to a horrifying, amorphous organism, with just enough residual human appearance to draw us into the Uncanny Valley. It’s as if the human appearance is a costume, and the Thing simply forgot that it was wearing it.

The Thing is not simply a horror movie, it is one of the greatest cinematic experiences ever put on film. Watching it alone in the dark is likely to leave you curled up in a fetal position, sobbing. Or maybe you’ll just be smiling with a chill running down your spine. Or you could take to the internet to continue the ongoing debates about the exact moment when each individual character was turned.…The possibilities are endless.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #49 Les Diaboliques

(Note: I usually don’t give spoiler warnings, because I don’t care about spoilers. However, this is the rare film in which I would actually encourage people to avoid spoilers. You have been warned!)

Les Diaboliques is considered something of a precursor to Psycho. It’s not hard to see why, given that the film literally ends with a title card asking the audience not to reveal the ending to their friends; a trick Hitchcock would pull off five years later. Beyond that, you have a twist ending, gray morality, a distrust of authority, and some truly lovely cinematography.

I feel that I was a bit lucky with this movie. I usually don’t bother to avoid spoilers. (Which is why I have no hesitation to spoil any movie I review). But solely by chance, the original 100 Scariest Movie Moments half-spoiled the final twist, leaving me expecting a far more contrived ending than what I received. I knew Michel Delassalle (Paul Meurisse) was faking his death to scare his frail wife Christina (Vera Clouzot) into having a fatal heart attack. What I didn’t realize was that his mistress, Nicole (Simone Signoret) was conspiring with him. This twist made the details of his faked death far more believable, and the movie far more enjoyable.

I feel a little like I should have had at least some inkling of the ending, and I attribute the fact that I didn’t primarily to brilliant performances by Clouzot and Signoret. Nicole presents such a hardened, honest, matter-of-fact figure to Christina’s religious naïveté that we never really think to question her. Some have suggested that they were intended to be lesbian lovers, but I don’t really see that. Rather, I see Nicole, at least as she initially presents herself, more in the role of a big sister or parental figure, trying to convince Christina to act in her own best interest, in spite of Christina’s fear of both legal and spiritual retribution.

The conflict of the movie unfolds quite naturally. Michel is the headmaster of a boarding school he runs with Christina’s inherited money. The school is not very profitable, but Christina insists on keeping it open over his objections. Nicole works at the school as a teacher, and became Michel’s mistress since Michel has become frustrated with Christina. The marital problems stem from Christina's frailty, caused by a heart condition, and her conservative values. However, Christina’s strong Catholic beliefs forbid a divorce, and Michel won’t give up the money.

As Michel’s relationship with Nicole appears to weaken, Nicole approaches Christina, warning her that she believes Michel intends to end their marriage via murder. While he hasn’t said so explicitly, she feels that many of the references he makes to her heart condition imply a desire to see her dead. So Nicole convinces Christina to help her in murdering Michel first.

The plan is actually quite logical, and how it fails is evident only in retrospect, knowing that Nicole is in on it. Michel is lured to Nicole’s apartment with the threat of a divorce and “tricked” into drinking a “sedative” provided by Nicole. He’s then “drowned” in the bathtub (he has a history as a competitive swimmer, making this part possible to fake), and transported back to the school in a chest (which Nicole primarily handles, making it easier to cover up involuntary movements). They then dump him in the pool, and act like nothing happened.

Eventually, Michel’s lighter is found in the pool, but his body is not. The obvious assumption the women make is that someone took the body to blackmail them. But at this point, the movie begins to play with genres, giving hints that it might veer into supernatural territory. The suit in which Michel was drowned is returned from the dry cleaners, who report receiving it from a man of his description. A child at the school, known for being a compulsive liar, also claims to have seen Michel, who punished the boy for breaking a window with his slingshot.

In this section, the movie effectively sets the audience up for what TvTropes would call a Kansas City Shuffle: we know we’re being conned and that a twist is coming, but we’re mislead as to what the con is. We expect either blackmail or a ghost, so the idea of Nicole and Michel conspiring simply doesn’t occur to us.

Eventually, the confusion regarding the missing body, and other strange occurrences drives a wedge between Christina and Nicole, and Nicole says that she’s leaving. Later that evening, Christina hears strange noises that lure her out of bed. Then, she’s lured into Michel’s office by the sound of his typewriter, and finds that someone has typed his name in a variety of fonts. When the lights suddenly go out, she runs into the bathroom, only to see his corpse in the tub, rising from it, causing a fatal heart attack.

At this point we’re treated to four twists crammed into the last five minutes. The first two I’ve already covered. Michel removes the contacts that made his eyes appear dead, showing himself to still be alive. He then opens the bathroom door for Nicole to come in. They kiss, and briefly discuss how wealthy they are, before a detective, Alfred Fichet, walks in to arrest them both. In the final scene, one of the school employees talks to the young boy from earlier, who tells him that Christina gave him back his slingshot, which Michel took earlier.

The first two twists I’ve already covered, but the last two still require some discussion. I haven’t mentioned Alfred Fichet yet, because I felt he needed to be talked about independently. During all of his scenes I had a single thought about him: Wow, this guy reminds me of Columbo. And Googling it, I confirmed that yes, the character of Columbo was inspired by Fichet.

Fichet approaches Christina earlier in the film, saying that he wants to help her find her husband. He acts like a buffoon for most of his scenes, giving the impression that he’s a harmless idiot, until the end when he’s solved the mystery. He even smokes a cigar. If you’ve seen a single episode of Columbo, you’ll recognize him.

Fichet actually gets Christina to confess after Nicole leaves, before the final confrontation. He breaks into her apartment and tells her he knows where her husband is. Christina then gives a tearful confession, admitting that she and Nicole killed him. Fichet takes the confession matter-of-factually, and leaves, telling Christina that she’ll be exonerated by morning. As with Columbo, it’s ambiguous how much he knows and when he knows it, but we recognize a brilliant use of obfuscating stupidity by a skilled detective. I suspect that the arrest was added in because the censors wouldn’t allow the villains to get away Scot-free, but the character created by this requirement works so well that it’s difficult to see fault with it.

The final twist just annoys me, though. The child has already been stated to be a compulsive liar, so we’re left to debate whether he saw Christina’s ghost, Christina faked her death, or if he was just making things up. But why do we have this twist at all? It’s pointless! It has nothing to do with anything else in the movie, and feels unbelievably tacked on.

This film is no Psycho, but I do recommend it. The build-up is excellent, as we feel the tension of Christina’s guilt and watch the plan begin to unravelling. The ending turns this tension into true terror, with the bathtub scene being frightening, even if you know what’s happening.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #50 The Last House on the Left

Having made the decision to re-watch and review this film, I realized on the way home that I was actually dreading it. This isn't a film that's meant to be enjoyed. It exists as a dare. And I don't blame the people who've chickened out of that dare.

Lots of horror movies have tried to market themselves as an experience rather than a story: Psycho, Paranormal Activity, House on Haunted Hill, and The Tingler to name just a few. But what's unusual about The Last House on the Left is that it's actually kept this status. I've rarely heard anyone discuss the film, except in terms of its ability to horrify. Documentaries about horror movies rarely show anything other than the original trailer. And I can see why, as most of the memorable scenes have no place on television.

The basic plot is quite simple. Two girls, Mari and Phyllis (Sandra Cassel and Lucy Grantham) go to a concert. They are lured to a hotel room with promises of cheap pot, and then kidnapped by two prison escapees along with their two accomplices. The girls are raped and left for dead in the woods. Then, through a remarkable coincidence, their killers stay at the home of one of the victim's parents (Cynthia Carr and Gaylord St. James). And upon discovering what the killers have done, the parents take their revenge.

While disturbing, this film is definitely a reminder of why the 70s are regarded as the greatest decade of American cinema. A generation of filmmakers, freed of the Hayes Code at long last, were ready to really experiment. It's unlikely this film could have been made at any other time. It's disturbing, but much of its action takes place in broad daylight, and there's no hesitation to contrast brutality with humor. Even as Mari and Phyllis are being humiliated, tortured, and raped, we get scenes of Mari's parents fooling around at home. Later in the film, we watch of two bumbling policemen trying to chase the criminals.

Of the four criminals, two are basically filler characters. One of the escapees, Weasel (Fred Lincoln), seems to be there mainly to give the villains a little more muscle and the heroes one more gory death to cause. And Sadie (Jeramie Rain), the female accomplice, is there because... well, criminals in movies have their love interests with them. Also, she's bi-sexual, and assaults the girls along with the men.

The two villain characters who actually matter are Krug (David A Hess) and his son Junior (Marc Sheffler). Krug is a monster, leading all the others without dispute. We're told early in the film that he's hooked his own son on heroin to control him. This makes Junior a character who you can't help but have mixed feelings about. He never takes part in the rape and murder of the girls, but he lures the girls in on his father's orders. However, his ultimate fate, being ordered by his own father to commit suicide, and doing it because he's lost all hope, makes you feel sorry for him.

While both the girls, and eventually all four gang members, meet their fates, there are only really three scenes that stand out as truly shocking. The first is, of course, the rape of the two women. I challenge anyone to watch this film's depiction of rape and call it “glorified.” I've never seen two women undressing each other in a manner that's less erotic. Krug acts as a dictator for this scene, controlling their actions, and leaving them completely powerless. It's notable that after finally completing the act, Krug shows the only signs of remorse he displays in the entire film… a few moments of looking uneasy. Even he knew that what he'd done was horrific!

The second scene is Weasel's death. Not knowing that the parents are on to them, he attempts to seduce Mari's mother, bragging how he can “take a woman with my hands tied behind my back.” The scene involves him letting her tie his hands behind his back, and placing his cock in her mouth. Three guesses how that ends.

The final scene is, of course, Junior's death. The actors playing Krug and Junior give performances that can really make you cringe. Selling a scene in which a young man kills himself on his father's orders certainly isn't easy, especially when that young man had already been shown turning on his father moments before, pulling a gun on him. But Junior is disturbed enough, and Krug manipulative enough, that we buy it.

Krug's death is actually a bit too over-the-top to be truly disturbing. Having finished off his minions, the father confronts him with a chainsaw. Krug is unable to escape because they've electrocuted the doorknob. Finally, after a long period of Krug holding pieces of furniture in front of him to protect himself, he's beheaded. Then the cops arrive, and happy banjo music starts playing as we see the credits.

This is a film for people who can handle it. Watch it if you want the bragging rights of having seen it, not because you want to be entertained. If you want to be entertained, you might want to watch the remake, which is substantially watered down but not a terrible film in and of itself. The original... well, don't use it for date night.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #51 The Dead Zone

Stephen King has made no secret of the fact that he prefers the mini-series adaptations of his work over the film versions. He feels that novels are written more in the style of a television series than films, with “chapters” representing the time between commercial breaks, and “Books” or “Parts” representing episodes. I'm not sure what he thinks about the ongoing TV series based on his work. I can say that I have enjoyed what I've seen of The Dead Zone TV series, probably more than I enjoyed the movie. Still, I can't help but imagine what a Mick Garris mini-series would be like, giving the story lines time to play out, but without a lot of filler.

Why do I bring this up? Because to me, The Dead Zone movie feels extremely rushed. Our protagonist, John Smith (Christopher Walken), goes into a coma after a car accident and wakes up years later to find he now has psychic visions. Then, he has to help a sheriff hunting a serial killer. Finally, he has to try to assassinate a politician destined to bring about nuclear war when he's elected President.

Right there you have a perfect three-episode structure which has all been crammed into an hour an forty-five minutes. There are some great epiphany moments that advance the plot, but the human element seems lacking. Most of the character development goes to Johnny and his attempts to deal with what he is, leaving these other events in which he plays a role woefully underdeveloped as anything more than plot devices.

We never feel the clock ticking down as Johnny tries to locate the killer, finding him is far too easy. And when Johnny buys a rifle and goes to kill Greg Stilson (Martin Sheen), it seems like a decision he came to with surprising speed and little mental anguish. I checked the timer, he finds out about the nuclear Apocalypse within the last 20 minutes of the movie, and from there moves directly to planning Stilson's death.

While it's been years since I've seen the show, I find myself mentally comparing this movie to a filler episode in the series. In that episode, Johnny received a blood transfusion from several people, and as a result, had a vision of one of them dying. He spent the whole episode trying to track them down and touching each of their lives, only for a man he'd inspired as a writer to step in and save the female bike messenger who would otherwise have been hit by a truck. Cheesy as it was, the message there was clear; this story is as much about the people whose lives are affected by Johnny as about Johnny himself. However, this movie is purely Johnny.

Walken's performance here works well. I usually think Walken does his best work in comedy, because of his tendency to be stilted and awkward. Here though, he's portraying a man who gained psychic powers through brain damage. It makes sense that he would come across as weird.

Martin Sheen really steals every scene he's in. He's a sleazy politician, and he loves being exactly that. I wish he had more direct interactions with Walken, but I suppose that's forgivable. There's no real reason for either of them to ever really talk to the other. I suppose I give the movie points over the show for that logic. The show gave us a Johnny and Stilson who found constant excuses to talk, despite hating each other.

Of course, this all brings us to the real question: Is it scary? It didn't leave me shaking in my boots, but it did put me ill at ease. Johnny's inability to convince people that he legitimately knows the future is off putting. However, that idea in and of itself is something that's been done to death.

What scares me more is the idea of someone like Johnny; someone who has knowledge of the future, and who is willing to decide who does or doesn't deserve to live based on crimes yet to be committed. Since his actions appear to be the only thing that can change the future, presumably he is the only one of us with true free will. The idea that one person gets to judge you for what you will do, and is absolutely justified in that... yes, that terrifies me.

I do recommend this movie. Not as strongly as many on this list, but I recommend it nonetheless. It's a well-acted, well-directed movie that you won't regret seeing.

Interestingly, this is one of the few reviews I've done where I don't spoil the ending, mainly because I don't see any particular reason to do so. It just left me thinking “...yes, that's an ending.” It didn't greatly affect how I thought about anything else in the movie, so I don't see any reason to talk about it.