Finished out the month of October in style, with dinosaurs, mummies, flies, a Boris Karloff mini-fest, William Castle and Hammer monsters. Enjoy!

As always, feel free to leave your two cents worth - we'll make sure you get some change back...

HORROR:
Circus of Horrors (1960) (2nd viewing)
Anton Diffring stars as deranged plastic surgeon who flees the police and starts a new life under the big top (after offing the previous owner), but old habits die hard.  With Hammer babes Yvonne Romain and Yvonne Monlaur, the latter of which not nearly so fetching with her blonde ‘do.

Fantom Killer (1998) (1st viewing)
Polish slasher flick as inept as it is sleazy, as funny as it is outrageous, with more boobs and crotch-stabbings than the rest of October combined.  It would be easy to be offended by the blatant misogyny on display if it weren’t so obvious that the silicone-enhanced beauties being sliced and diced are completely in on the joke.  Not a good movie, but pretty unique nonetheless.

Land That Time Forgot, The (1975) (7th viewing)
Manly man Doug McLure and the lovely Susan Penhaglion battle dinosaurs, cavemen and members of a Nazi U-Boat in this thoroughly enjoyable exercise in juvenilia.  A childhood fave.

Zaat (1975) (1st viewing)
What do you get when you cross a mad scientist with a $1.98 catfish costume?  Bad movie bliss beyond description.  Must be experienced by lovers of fine rancid cinematic gouda.

DOIN’ THE MONSTER MASH
Monster Maker, The (1944) (1st viewing)
Mad scientist J. Carroll Naish injects his victims with acromegaly virus, causing them to become hideously deformed.  Not-bad thriller with decent makeup effects.

Monster Walks, The (1932) (1st viewing)
Old Dark House chiller comedy with the inhabitants menaced by a killer ape.  Made back when the term “monster” could be pretty loosely interpreted, I guess. 

HAMMER MUMMIES
Mummy, The (1959) (3rd viewing)
Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee are at each other’s throats again, with Lee as the bandaged one.  Bernard Robinson’s sumptuous production design on a shoestring is the real marvel here, though everyone acquits themselves admirably.

Curse of the Mummy's Tomb, The (1964) (2nd viewing)
Decent follow-up has obnoxious American ballyhoo barker Fred Clark funding a Egyptian exhibition, only to have ol’ dusty drawers come back to life and ruin the fun.  Michael Carreras’ script (as Henry Younger) is actually pretty solid, and the film also features stalwart character man Michael Ripper in one of his finest, most prominent roles.

Mummy's Shroud, The (1967) (2nd viewing)
This one takes a lot of heat for its generic, uninspired scripting, and it’s certainly the weakest of the lot, but if you’re looking for a mummy movie with some nasty-ass kills, you could do worse.  Plus, the ending is pretty darn memorable.

Blood from the Mummy's Tomb (1971) (2nd viewing)
This screen version of Bram Stoker’s Jewel of the Seven Stars is notable for a few things:  1) It’s a mummy movie without an actual mummy, 2) it attempts to pull off a “modern day” setting with early 70s fashions galore, and 3) Va-va-va-voom Valerie Leon as the current vessel of the reincarnated soul of Princess Tera.  Also with Andrew Kier and James Villiers.

LORD OF THE "FLY"s
Fly, The (1958) (3rd viewing)
Though oft reduced to its central plot device  (scientist switches head and hands with a common housefly) and overshadowed by David Cronenberg’s Oscar-winning 1986 remake, Kurt Neumann’s stellar sci-fi classic rightly deserves its place in the hallowed halls of sci-fi/horror cinema.  Along with its surprisingly gruesome opening to its stunning “Help me!” climax, the emotional journey of David (“Don’t call me Al”) Hedison’s determined experimenter and devoted wife Patricia Owens provides legitimate drama for viewers, something in short supply during the gigantism-laden 50s.  With Vincent Price.

Return of the Fly (1959) (2nd viewing)
A thoroughly  laughable sequel to the previous year’s classic with son Brett Hallsey following in his father’s buzzy footsteps.  Filled with goddawful effects, unintentional comedy, a cartoonishly huge fly head, and plot inconsistencies galore.  Pretty terrible.

Curse of the Fly (1965) (2nd viewing)
Despite its kitchen sink plotting that throws in a bit of everything, this is a fairly interesting sci-fi effort that earns points for not trying to replicate the freakshow novelty of heads and hands.  Instead, descendants of the original film’s scientist have nearly perfected the teleportation machine…nearly.  Produced in Britain with director Don Sharp at the helm, well worth checking out.

LOWER THE DRAWBRIDGE, STORM THE (WILLIAM) CASTLE
Macabre (1958) (2nd viewing)
Schlockmeister William Castle produces and directs his first horror/thriller about a missing child and dark family secrets.  The film itself isn’t bad at all, but it’s probably best remembered for Castle’s gimmick of insurance policies against moviegoers’ “Death by Fright.”

House on Haunted Hill (1959) (3rd viewing)
Classic Castle fright-fest frivolity.  Vincent Price stars as an eccentric millionaire who offers $10,000 to five diverse guests if they can spend the entire night in the titular haunted house, and the thrills and chills ensue.  This is the film where eternal showman Castle revealed his classic “Emergo” stunt of flying a skeleton on wires over theatre patrons.

13 Ghosts (1960) (2nd viewing)
Down-on-his-luck paleontologist Donald Woods learns that he and his family have inherited a mysterious mansion along with a dozen unearthly squatters, who may or may not be willing to share living quarters. Filled with fun, frightful scenes involving Ouija boards, candlelit séances, and a ghoulish creature stalking the halls of the Zorba estate.  And yes, that is “Wicked Witch of the West” Margaret Hamilton as the shadowy housekeeper.  

Mr. Sardonicus (1961) (2nd viewing)
When Guy Rolfe goes searching for a winning lottery ticket in his dead father’s grave, the shock causes his face to freeze in a grotesque The Man Who Laughs-inspired grimace.  He then forces illustrious doctor Ronald Lewis to treat his affliction, holding Lewis’ former love Audrey Dalton hostage.  William Castle’s onscreen “Punishment Poll” gives the audience the opportunity to “decide” the outcome of the movie… and Rolfe’s ultimate fate.  One of the producer/director’s finest efforts, elevated by terrific performances and myriad macabre touches within Ray Russell’s taut script (adapted from his own novel).

Strait-Jacket (1964) (3rd viewing)
The casting of aging starlet Joan Crawford, hot off the success of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, proved to be one of William Castle’s finest gimmicks, and the grand dame gives it her all as a recently released axe murderess trying to reintegrate herself into society and into now-grown daughter Diane Baker’s life.  Watching Crawford go bananas in high style does lend the film a camp appeal, but Robert Bloch’s script keeps a lid on the melodrama and Castle surrounds his star with a fine ensemble, including Baker, George Kennedy and Mitchell Cox.

HEERE THERE BE MONSTERS, HAMMER STYLE
Curse of the Werewolf, The (1961) (3rd viewing)
Oliver Reed (in his first starring role) sprouts fur and fangs in Hammer’s only lycanthropic outing and one of their finest efforts.  Great production design and fine performances all around under Terence Fisher’s surefooted guidance. 

Kiss of the Vampire, The (1963) (2nd viewing)
A rare, non-Dracula effort (Christopher Lee and the studio had not yet reached terms) that acquits itself rather ably, with marvelous sequences and better-than-average plotting that almost compensate for the profoundly silly fake bat attack finale.

Gorgon, The (1964) (2nd viewing)
This intriguing spin on the Greek legend about a witch whose gaze can turn her victims to stone manages a few chills here and there, but never quite takes off as it should despite the presence of Hammer stalwarts Barbara Shelly, Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee and Michael Ripper.

Reptile, The (1966) (2nd viewing)
With the gorgeous Jacqueline Pearce as an exotic shapeshifting were-snake whose poisonous fangs pack the punch of a dozen cobras…what’s not to like?  Filmed simultaneously with (and on the same sets as) The Plague of the Zombies by director John Gilling.

Plague of the Zombies, The (1966) (2nd viewing)
Andre Morell’s commanding presence anchors this marvelous production, with villainous squire John Carson killing off the inhabitants of a small Cornish village, only to revive them as living corpses to work as free labor in his tin mine!  Wonderful work from the entire ensemble and populated with several spooky and exciting set-pieces.

Horror of Frankenstein (1970) (2nd viewing)
Though oft-maligned by Cushing devotees, this black comic version of the Frankenstein legend written-produced-directed by Jimmy Sangster (whose 1957 screenplay spawned the Hammer Frankenstein series) actually succeeds quite well on its own terms, highlighted by sly comic performances from Ralph Bates and Kate O’Mara.

BORIS IS A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD SCIENTIST
Man They Could Not Hang, The (1939) (2nd viewing)
Karloff develops an artificial heart, but is interrupted before he can complete the experiment and sentenced to death.  His assistant, however, revives him through Karloff’s own techniques and the wronged doc sets about avenging himself against those that convicted him.  The second act’s Ten Little Indians motif provides a fair amount of tension and excitement. Directed with verve by Nick Grinde (who also directed the veteran spookster in The Man with Nine Lives and Before I Hang the following year).

Man with Nine Lives, The (1940) (2nd viewing)
This time, Karloff experiments in cryogenics, but is once again misunderstood and wrongfully accused of murder.  So he locks both himself and his accusers in his island ice cave, To be discovered 10 years later by a vacationing couple (who just happen to be familiar with Karloff’s experiments).  When everyone gets thawed out, tempers flare and alliances shift by the minute.  Solid entertainment.

Before I Hang (1940) (2nd viewing)
Karloff is in fine form as a physician developing a serum to reverse the aging process who is sent to death row  when one of his subjects succumbs to a “mercy killing.”  Prior to being pardoned and released, he refines his serum using a convicted murderer’s blood, only to find that while the injection rejuvenates, it also has an unfortunate Jekyll/Hyde effect, with Karloff nimbly playing both kindly and killer with equal ease.

Devil Commands, The (1941) (2nd viewing)
While director Edward Dmytryk’s wildly atmospheric programmer features Karloff at his feverishly dedicated man-of-science best, it also provides him with that rarest of cinematic treats:  a worthy onscreen foil.  Here, steely-eyed Anne Revere goes glare for glare as a medium who the grieving Karloff hopes will enable him to make contact with his dearly departed wife.  Tightly paced and plotted, this is one of the horror icon’s finer outings of the ’40s.

CIVILIAN:
The Power (1968) (1st viewing)
A film about warring telekinetics with Byron (War of the Worlds) Haskin at the helm and a cast that includes George Hamilton, Suzanne Pleshette, Richard Carlson, Earl Holliman and Yvonne DeCarlo has no right to be this slow, uncool and uninspired.  Disney’s Escape from Witch Mountain packs more thrills in its opening 10 minutes.  Sigh.

2009 Totals:  396 films, 240 1st time views, 244 horrors, 30 cinema

Had the distinct pleasure of revisiting the entire Val Lewton canon in October, an exercise in consistently excellent output by a producer.

Enjoy!


VAL LEWTON FILM FESTIVAL
Cat People (1942) (4th viewing)
Arguably their most successful collaboration, this first effort by producer Val Lewton and director Jacques Tourneur is a stunner that stands the test of time.  Simone Simon plays the enigmatic and beautiful Irena, a Serbian woman new to America, who is befriended near the panther cage at the zoo by charming adman Kent Smith.  The two soon grow closer, and eventually marry, but Irena is reluctant to be intimate with her new husband, fearing that “there is something evil inside me.”  Namely, she believes she is one of the “cat people,” a strange race of people that transform into killer panthers when their emotions are aroused.  After a time, the frustrated Smith begins to show interest in his female co-worker, Alice.  (Did he forget that jealousy is a strong emotion as well?)  Tourneur weaves an incredibly suspenseful tale, emphasizing the unseen and utilizing some astonishing work with shadows and light. The film contains numerous classic moments:  the pet shop, Irena’s pursuit of her rival down a shadowy street, the swimming pool scene, the stalking of Smith and Alice in the office, and on and on.  A highly influential masterwork, not to be missed.

I Walked with a Zombie (1943) (2nd viewing)
A haunting, suspenseful thriller from director Jacques Tourneur and producer Val Lewton, following their successful collaboration with Cat People.  Canadian nurse Frances Dee is called to the West Indies to care for plantation owner Tom Conway’s ailing wife, simultaneously catching the eye of his ne’er-do-well sibling James Ellison.  When common medicinal treatments do not help the woman’s catatonic condition, the island natives fear that the wife has become one of “the living dead.”  The brothers’ dark family history is revealed through the inventive device of Sir Lancelot’s spooky Calypso minstrel.  The film contains numerous memorable scenes, with the moonlit walk through the woods a hair-raising highlight (Darby Jones’ eerie zombie Carrefour will give even the strongest viewer bad dreams).  Dee is a wonderful vehicle through which to take this supernatural journey; expressive, human, and conflicted.  Conway is excellent, a composed facade of stiff superiority offset by an underlying vulnerability.  He is well-matched by Ellison, whose terrific drunk scenes reveal untold layers of anger, defeat, and despair in a manner of seconds.  Through skillful manipulation of light, shadow and sound, Tourneur conjures an elegant atmosphere of tangible dread.  Great touch of “any resemblance to persons living, dead or possessed is purely coincidental” in the opening credits.

Leopard Man, The (1943) (2nd viewing)
Directed by Jacques Tourneur, this effort is as atmospheric as his previous I Walked with a Zombie and The Cat People, but only marginally succeeds as a horror film.  More whodunnit than supernatural thriller, authorities pursue a killer panther in New Mexico, with suspicion growing that the murders are committed by a man pretending to be a panther.  Of interest is the film’s introduction of the modern slasher-film motif of introducing us to a character, following them for a while, then killing them off.  Includes great moments of tension and fear, with each of the murders a classic set piece unto itself.  The scene where an intolerant mother (ignorant of the murderer outside) refuses to let her crying daughter inside the house is particularly chilling .  Warning:  Modern audiences may find the Hispanic characters (played by pale Anglos with nary an accent) distracting if not offensive, with words like “mamacita” sounding truly foreign.  Due to expectations of a more supernatural nature, some may find the ending a disappointment, particularly when the killer’s identity is clear from the halfway point.  A worthy entry in the Tourneur-Lewton canon, though not to the level of their earlier efforts.

Seventh Victim, The (1943) (2nd viewing)
In her film debut, Kim Hunter shines as a sheltered student who leaves classes when her Manhattanite sister Jean Brooks abruptly stops paying the tuition bills, only to discover that Brooks has fallen in with a group of devil-worshippers in Greenwich Village and subsequently vanished.  Rarely has a film succeeded so well at conveying the nocturnal menace and cold impersonality of a large city, and rookie director Mark Robson is to be complimented.  Though never quite capturing the lyrical qualities of his forbearer Jacques Tourneur, the very flatness and lack of poetry manages to heighten our feelings of isolation and hopelessness.  Tom Conway reprises his “Dr. Louis Judd” character from Cat People (though if viewers recall his ultimate fate in that film, it becomes clear that Victim must be a prequel), while Leave it to Beaver’s Hugh Beaumont creates an intriguingly shaded persona as Brooks’ former paramour.  As is oft the case with Lewton productions, memorable images and sequences abound, perhaps the most prominent of which being Brooks’ room with a noose and a chair positioned meaningfully beneath – making the various characters’ choices between life and death implicit throughout.  The thoughtful script is by Charles O’Neal and DeWitt Bodeen.

Ghost Ship, The (1943) (2nd viewing)
This unsung (more on that in a second) Val Lewton production tells a familiar tale of a jinxed ship whose captain (Richard Dix), obsessed with the concepts of authority and appearances thereof, finds himself paralyzed by  malignant fear and doubts.  Russell Wade (who would return to the Lewton stable as the impressionable student in The Body Snatcher) stars as a young officer who initially idolizes, but later comes to doubt, fear and finally oppose the tyrannical skipper...with disastrous results.  Directed by Mark Robson, who had also served as editor and/or writer on numerous earlier Lewton productions, the film is elegantly crafted with handsome sets (borrowed from RKO’s 1938 film Pacific Liner) and Donald Henderson Clarke’s screenplay manages an admirable amount of mileage from its Hitchcockian transference-of-guilt theme.  Though both Dix and Wade are performers with distinct limits, they manage to navigate the melodramatic waters ably enough here.  Far more interesting, however, is diminutive craggy-faced character actor Skelton Knaggs’ (House of Dracula, Isle of the Dead, The Picture of Dorian Gray) prominent turn as a mute sailor who narrates the film through hushed voiceover.   Look sharp for balladeering Lewton fave Sir Lancelot as one of the loyal crew members, as well as legendary tough guy Lawrence Tierney, only two years before his breakout role in Dillinger.  

Note:  Shortly after its release, Samuel R. Golding and Norbert Faulkner sued Lewton for plagiarism, claiming that Clarke’s script was based on a play they had written and submitted at the time the film was being developed. Following a court ruling, The Ghost Ship was withdrawn from circulation and remained unavailable for viewing for the next 50 years.

Curse of the Cat People, The (1944) (4th viewing)
Despite the identical cast and characters from Cat People, this peculiar sequel (featuring neither cats nor curses) is more childhood fable than atmospheric chiller, which may confound fans of the original.  Producer Val Lewton and co-directors Gunther Von Fritsch and Robert Wise concern themselves this time not with the sexuality of shapeshifting cat women, but with the loneliness of a young girl.  The story picks up five years after the events of the 1942 film, with returnees Kent Smith and Jane Randolph now happily married, though Smith’s former marriage to Irena (Simone Simon) still casts the occasional shadow.  Their daughter Amy (Ann Carter) is a dreamy child unable to fit in with her peers, finding solace in a world of imagination, much to the chagrin of her father.  The companionless child’s desperate search for “a friend” leads to a peculiar relationship with an aging stage actress (Julia Dean), whose gift of a ring conjures the image of Irena to Amy.  Dewitt Bodeen’s multi-layered storyline is engaging and the sentimental journey charming, though Lewton’s hijacked title may leave some viewers feeling hoodwinked.  That said, Carter gives a wonderful central performance, with the relationship between Dean and estranged adult daughter Elizabeth Russell a fascinating one to observe.  Lewton regular Sir Lancelot shines as the kindly house servant Edward.

Isle of the Dead (1945) (2nd viewing)
It’s Karloff’s show all the way in this odd little Val Lewton production set in Greece during the 1912 war.  Playing the ruthless General Pherides, who respects only the letter of the law, he quarantines a group of civilians on an island when an outbreak of plague strikes.  However, as the tiny community dies one by one, he begins to believe an old crone’s accusations—that beautiful young servant woman Ellen Drew is really a “vorvolaka,” a wolf-spirit with vampiric tendencies.  The unusually curly-headed Karloff is a wonder to watch as he creates another memorable character, and Katharine Emery’s dying woman terrified of being buried alive leaves a strong impression.  However, the love story angle between Drew and American reporter Marc Cramer is devoid of chemistry, further slowing the already lethargic pacing by director Mark Robson (who would fare much better the following year with Bedlam.)  Still, the quality Lewton production values are in place, with a chilling sequence in the island crypt that will cause nightmares for many.

Body Snatcher, The (1945) (2nd viewing)
Arguably Boris Karloff’s finest onscreen performance, this is another great-looking piece of atmospheric horror from producer Val Lewton.  Karloff’s Cabman Gray, oozing ill-intentions and menace while remaining innately likeable, emerges as one of the most intriguing characters in film, regardless of genre.  Gray has been employed as a grave robber to provide cadavers for Henry Daniell’s professor to use at his medical institute.  When there are too few corpses to satisfy demands, Gray goes about supplying them through “other means.”  Philip MacDonald and Lewton (writing as Carlos Keith) do a terrific job adapting Robert Louis Stevenson’s story (inspired by the real-life exploits of body snatchers Burke and Hare).  Robert Wise directs with a sure hand, leaving much of the violence offscreen and allowing our imagination to fill in the ghoulish blanks.  The street singer sequence, in particular, is a wonder.  Daniell proves a worthy foil to Karloff, and the mounting power struggle between them is electrifying to watch.  Bela Lugosi appears in a small role (despite his billing) as Daniell’s servant, and his brief scene with Karloff is startling yet strangely moving.  The film marked the final time that the two icons of horror would appear onscreen together.

Bedlam (1946) (2nd viewing)
This third collaboration of star Boris Karloff and producer Val Lewton is not a straightforward horror tale, yet contains some chilling moments nonetheless.  Karloff is absolutely captivating as Master Sims, the sadistic yet utterly charming chief warden of St. Mary’s of Bethlehem, known as Bedlam.  When flinty heroine Nell Bowen (Anna Lee) interferes with Sims’ plans to ingratiate himself to Lord Mortimer (a delightful performance by Billy House), he has her incarcerated as a madwoman under his charge.  Within this realm, where Sims has reigned unchallenged for years, their battle of wills escalates as the sharp-witted and steel-spined Nell forms alliances with her fellow lunatics, some of whom are not as they seem.  While Karloff is ostensibly the villain of the piece, his presence is so magnetic and fascinating the audience may find it difficult to root for his downfall.  Lewton (under pseudonym Carlos Keith) is responsible for the suspenseful and witty screenplay, which contains numerous nightmarish images, including an inmate suffocating from being dipped in gold paint (a precursor to James Bond’s Goldfinger) and a ghoulish “trial” of Sims by his tormented patients.  Director Mark Robson skillfully evokes a shadowy atmosphere of gloom in this final Lewton/RKO teaming, concluding a remarkable string of high quality/low-budget pictures produced between 1942 and 1946.

Greetings, troops,

Hope everyone had a great weekend! In this installment, we've got a scramble of fright classics on the menu, along with musings on the state of a certain new millennium horror franchise. Hope you like.

Part 2 will feature an all-Val Lewton slate, so stay tuned...

As always, feel free to throw in your two cents worth - we'll make sure you get some change back.

HORROR:

Dead of Night (1945) (2nd viewing)
Highly influential classic from England’s Ealing Studios, a direct ancestor of future anthology horror offerings such as Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath, Freddie Francis’ Tales From the Crypt, and George Romero’s Creepshow.  Four directors converge to helm a quintet of spooky stories, ranging from the mysterious to the light-hearted to the utterly terrifying.  When architect Mervyn Johns is called upon to visit a country house, he befuddles the residents when he claims to have encountered them all before in dreams.  As Johns’ visions are illuminated, a claustrophobic web weaves around the drawing room and its inhabitants.  The first segment, directed by Basil Dearden, concerns a race car driver given the enigmatic warning, “Room for one more inside.” (E. F. Benson’s story would also inspire a Twilight Zone episode).  Alberto Cavalcanti directs the next episode (also based on a Benson work), concerning a ghostly game of hide-and-seek with a murdered child’s spirit.  “The Haunted Mirror,” directed by Robert Hamer, is John V. Baines’ tale of an antique looking-glass that casts a sinister reflection of opulence and murder.  Charles Crichton helms H. G. Wells’ fizzy comic tale of a golfer antagonized by his former rival’s spirit, a taste of Ealing’s great comedies to come.  But it is Cavalcanti’s final episode, featuring Michael Redgrave’s terrific turn as a tortured ventriloquist, that really sends shivers down the spine.  Superbly satisfying, with a nightmarish denouement as the icing on the cake.

Poltergeist (1982) (5th viewing)
Though the debate rages on as to who directed what (credited helmer Tobe Hooper or 800 lb. screenwriter/producer Steven Spielberg), the result is an E-ticket haunted house ride of laughs, scares, thrills, and chills.  JoBeth Williams and Craig T. Nelson are engaging as a textbook suburban family, complete with three kids, family dog, and wonderful home—which proves to be not so wonderful.  The filmmakers waste no time captivating the audience with steadily increasing doses of unexplained phenomena, much of it revolving around cutie-pie Heather O’Rourke as the youngest daughter.  Mysterious conversations with television screen static (including the priceless “They’re heee-eere” tagline) give way to hair-raising scenes of poltergeist activity, leading the desperate family to engage parapsychologist Beatrice Straight.  Scream-inducing cinematic loop-de-loops and breakneck curves ensue, rocketing through a cornucopia of unforgettable scenes (closet-as-vacuum cleaner, the swimming pool, Williams’ Astaire-around-the-room tribute, etc.)  The Bugs Bunny-cartoon tornado not withstanding, Industrial Light and Magic’s special effects are excellent, bringing spooky trees, clowns, and all manner of spectral visitors to life.  The cast is excellent, with special honors going to Zelda Rubenstein’s powerful, pint-sized medium whose high-pitched line readings sell the chewier sections of dialogue.  Warning to parents: A nightmarish scene of a man tearing his own face off decidedly pushes the PG-rated gore envelope. 

Serial Mom (1994) (2nd viewing)
With his first studio film, indie/cult icon John Waters serves up this terrifically funny and biting satire, commenting both on the saccharine cookie-cutter qualities of suburban living as well as America’s fascination with serial killers and true crime drama.  Kathleen Turner (in a brilliant, Oscar-worthy performance) stars as a “perfect mother” who secretly harbors the urge to do in those who offend her sensibilities.  Walking a black comic tightrope, Turner embarks on a murder spree, mowing down her son’s math teacher, her husband’s annoying dental patients, and her daugher’s inconsiderate date, while all the time maintaining a hilarious “Who, me?” demeanor.  Easily one of Waters’ most accessible films, possessing plenty of gore and weirdness to satisfy his fans yet remaining mainstream enough to amuse the masses.  The supporting cast, which includes Waters regulars Patricia Hearst, Ricki Lake and Mink Stole – along with Matthew Lilliard in his big screen debut – is beyond reproach.  Highest marks to Sam Waterston as Turner’s blinkered, blinking husband who can’t believe his piece of apple pie has turned so sour. 

MAMA SCARE, PAPA SCARE, BABY SCARE
Carnival of Souls (1962) (3rd viewing)
Put on your low-budget boogie shoes, we’re going dancing at the Saltair, the ghostly centerpiece of director/producer Herk Harvey’s deeply unsettling little chiller.  After a frivolous drag race results a near-fatal plunge into the river, lone survivor Candace Hilligoss pulls herself from the murky waters and curiously leaves town to pursue an employment opportunity as a church organist in Utah.  En route, she encounters a ghostly white-faced figure floating alongside her car, just a taste of the bizarre events to follow.  Upon her arrival in town, she encounters a myriad of unusual characters, including her lust-ridden neighbor (Sidney Berger), whose wince-inducing flirtations will conjure up every girl’s worst date.  Her days are filled with strange, dreamlike episodes, while her nights are plagued by visions of the abandoned lakeside carnival where white-faced figures dance and beckon to her.  Filmed with a mere $30,000 budget, the acting is awkward and John Clifford’s dialogue a mite stilted, but Harvey manages to cultivate a illusory world where the ordinary and the mundane exude danger, with a thick atmosphere of gloom pervading the banality of the small, sleepy town.  The film’s hypnotic, documentary-like feel, effectively using real-life locations and non-actors, would prove highly influential to future horror projects, notably 1968’s Night of the Living Dead.  The enigmatic Hilligoss, while not the most skilled actress (this remains her only onscreen role), possesses a brittle, haunted quality that suits the material perfectly.  Nearly forgotten following its minimal initial distribution, Carnival began to pop up on late night television regularly, eventually inspiring a major re-release in 1988.

Last Man on Earth, The (1964) (2nd viewing)
“Another day to live through.  Better get started.”  From its opening shots of barren city landscapes littered with lifeless corpses to its bleak conclusion, the first screen version of Richard Matheson’s novel I am Legend is a downer all the way.  But considering the subject matter, this is no surprise, and directors Sidney Salkow and Ubaldo Ragona are to be lauded for remaining true to Matheson’s apocalyptic spirit.  Following a worldwide plague that transforms the living into vampiric undead, lone survivor Vincent Price spends his days dispatching his former friends and neighbors with wooden stakes and his nights tearfully watching home movies while the infected batter away at his barricaded home.  The stark black-and-white scenes of shambling undead, some of which are former loved ones, cannot help but conjure images of Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (still four years away).  Through haunting voice-over, Price projects the appropriately weary tone of a man isolated for nearly three years, torn between apathy and a base animalistic desire to survive.  However, his less-than-athletic screen presence here makes him an unlikely and/or unconvincing hero at times.  In the face of Uncle Vincent’s limp-wristed stake-pounding, one cannot help but imagine what Peter Cushing (once considered for the role) might have done with it.  The flashback sequences of the plague’s early days never quite pack the punch they should, due to the cast’s oddly mannered acting.  But with the help of a strong third-act twist, the film musters an ending both tragic and satisfying.  An admirable effort overall, leaps and bounds ahead of 1971’s The Omega Man and 2007’s I am Legend (based on the same material).

Night of the Living Dead (1968) (4th viewing)

Filmed on a shoestring and using a cast of no-name local actors from his native Pittsburgh, writer/director George Romero delivered his brutal in-your-face tale of corpses rising from their graves to feast on human flesh and changed the face of horror films forever.  While zombies had appeared onscreen before, never had they been so plentiful…or so hungry.  With its stark black-and-white photography, the movie possesses a documentary feel, the horrific events depicted with unrelenting realism through Romero’s cold, unflinching camera.  Following a stunning curtain-raiser in a desolate cemetery, the majority of the film’s action centers on a small group of panicked strangers taking refuge in an isolated farmhouse, reluctantly thrown together by the shocking events outside.  The claustrophobic screenplay (co-written by John Russo) shrewdly works on two levels:  stimulating the audience’s imaginations as incoming television and radio news reports describe horrific events in the outside world, while we simultaneously witness the conflicts within the farmhouse firsthand.  The harsh reality that the fearful and angry inhabitants inside are just as savage as the drooling zombies outside quickly becomes evident.  The grisly, close-up images of shambling ghouls sating their appetites shocked audiences, but just as shocking was the casting of Duane Jones, a black actor, as the strong, decisive hero.  During the racially charged political climate of the day, Romero’s decision was an extraordinary act of courage, imbuing the film with an allegorical tone open to multiple layers of interpretation.  A true genre landmark, whose legacy spawned today’s ubiquitous undead gutmuncher revolution.

ME SAW THREE SAW
Saw IV (2007) (2nd viewing)
Saw V (2008) (2nd viewing)
Saw VI (2009) (1st viewing)
After the semi-satisfying what should by all rights have been the concluding chapter of the Saw trilogy in 2006, I was a bit flabbergasted to hear that the Lionsgate suits were planning to continue the series.  Considering that they had killed off their lead character in grand fashion, I couldn’t imagine how they were planning to pull this off short of a Jason Voorhees-like bolt of lightning.  When October 2007 rolled around, I headed to the cinema and was genuinely surprised and impressed at how screenwriters Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan had managed to extend and expand the previous films’ storylines, building upon peripheral characters and incorporating elements from the previous chapters.  While none of the individual films had really knocked my socks off, I had to admit grudging admiration for a franchise which had proven greater than the sum of its parts.    

However, the following year yielded Saw V, which felt utterly uninspired and motivated by nothing more than sheer greed.  Cue the microcassette recorder:  “We at Lionsgate want to play a game.  We want to keep squeezing the lifeblood of the Saw franchise and the wallets of the dedicated fanbase, but we’ve killed off the main character two films ago and have very little to work with.  What will we do?  Should we retire our cash cow with what little dignity it has remaining, or should we conjure a tired retread of the ‘group of people in a booby-trapped scenario’ in order to provide some truly gratuitous gore?  Can we use the flashback technique and spin some more backstory for Tobin Bell’s Jigsaw?  Should we give our lead role to Costas Mandylor, who possesses the screen presence of a bowl of cold oatmeal?  The air is running out and we’re gasping our last gasp.  Will you pony up your hard-earned cash and allow us to greenlight Saw VI?  Make your choice…”

Needless to say, I was not impressed.  And wished in vain for it to be all over.

But, because I’m a glutton for punishment and an admitted shameless completist, I turned out again this October to see how much further Melton and Dunstan could string this along (reportedly, their story arc will conclude with next year’s Saw VII – we’ll see how that goes).  While a genuine improvement over Saw V (a textbook definition of damnation by faint praise if ever there was one), this sixth installment continues its uneven balance of a) overarching narrative following Jigsaw’s heir apparent Costas Mandylor as he attempts to elude the ever-tightening net of the law with b) another “game,” this time with a bottom-line insurance honcho (Peter Outerbridge) running the splatter-tastic routes.  My biggest beef, aside from the obviously anemic and padded plot, is the fact that for five films, Tobin Bell’s central character has been consistent in his M.O.: How much do you value your life, and what are you willing to do to stay alive?  Suddenly, and this is hardly a spoiler, Jigsaw’s game is “Who will live and who will die?” with Outerbridge forced to make executive (executive, execute…get it?) decisions as to which of his colleagues will meet their bloody ends, an “indictment” of the current health care crisis as subtle as a bowling ball to the nethers.  Considering Jigsaw’s state of being, it seems a little late in the day to switch up his mindset.

That aside, the gory set pieces continue to be just as gruesome, the imaginative human traps just as ornate and complex, and the characters just as flat and two-dimensional, in spite of the capable performers inhabiting them (with Bell’s Jigsaw the exception, due to the extensive backstory provided over the course of six features).  But these After-Jigsaw sequels have quickly grown tiresome, taking on the tenor of a gore-soaked soap opera, with so many plot twists and twist ending sucker punch cliffhangers so as to become a parody of themselves.  Considering the low box office returns of this latest installment, one senses that the end might (thankfully) be near.

(to be cont'd)

Horror up, folks!

HORROR:

TerrorVision (1986) (1st viewing)
Writer/director Ted Nicolaou unleashes the ’80s madness in this unsung horror/comedy well-deserving of a higher cult status.  An alien is accidentally jettisoned into space, then transported through swingers Gerrit Graham and Mary Woronov’s television set.  The goofy, high-energy cast are a treat to watch, but it is John Beuchler’s hilariously toothy (and tonguey) monster creation that steals the show.  One of my favorite discoveries of October, and a flick that needs, NEEDS a DVD release. Like now.

Zombieland (2009) (1st viewing)
The success of this comic version of the zombie apocalypse  illustrates just how thoroughly the cinematic undead gut munchers have permeated pop culture, since there no longer exists a need to explain how or why the plague has come – we just take it for granted and move on to the headshots.  Jesse Eisenberg and Woody Harrelson make a terrific odd couple of survivalists, nicely paired with Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin as sisters bound for a SoCal amusement park.  More action and mayhem than its elder Brit zom-com-rom brother Shaun of the Dead, though I personally prefer that film’s sly wit and geeky energy.  Thoroughly enjoyable.

JUST 'CAUSE IT'S OLD DON'T MEAN IT'S A CLASSIC (ZOMBIE EDITION)
Revolt of the Zombies (1936) (1st viewing)
Victor Halperin, director of the 1932 Bela Lugosi classic White Zombie revisits similar terrain (even to the extent of superimposing Lugosi’s eyes over the image at times), but without the horror icon’s awesome presence, the lumbering storyline of induces more snoozes than shrieks.

King of the Zombies (1941) (1st viewing)
Due to its surface non-PC treatment of black characters, modern audiences might be reluctant to admit to enjoying this star vehicle for funnyman Mantan Moreland. However, considering that all of the white characters are evil and/or stupid and Moreland’s manservant role, incessantly bantering in the face of terrifying situations, is the cleverest and most resourceful onscreen, one could argue that the film actually breaks ground with a minority hero.  Regardless of politics and race relations, this is a witty and clever horror/comedy that holds its own against the later Abbott and Costello Universal monster encounters.

KAIJUUUUUUUUU! (gesundheit)
War of the Gargantuas (1966) (2nd viewing)
Spinning off from Frankenstein Conquers the World, we have a giant monster Sanda (“the brown one”) and Gaira (“the green one”) who start off as “brothers” and end up pummeling each other (and Toyko) into oblivion.  Good kaiju times ensue.

Space Amoeba (aka Yog: Monster from Space) (1970) (1st viewing)
Hilariously goofy monster effects are the highlight of this late-in-the-cycle non-Godzilla aliens-threaten-the-world effort.  Gezora, a giant octopus, is hurled and dragged about with tentacles flailing wildly, while giant crab Ganime and titanic turtle Kameba ramble about and bump into each other on occasion.

Rebirth of Mothra (1996) (1st viewing)
Purely family fare (as opposed to the darker Godzilla efforts that came out in the ’90s), enhanced by impressive kaiju puppetry and lots of action, though slightly hampered by the simplistic characterizations and some early, less-than-refined CGI.

WHACKED-OUT FAMILIES, BRITISH-STYLE
Shuttered Room, The (1967) (1st viewing)
Atmospheric but flawed piece that follows Carol Lynley back to her island home to confront a childhood trauma with middle-aged hubby Gig Young (who proves to be quite able when it comes to defending his lady fair against a group of toughs led by Oliver Reed).  While there are a few moments of spooky dread surrounding Lynley’s inherited old millhouse, the overall experience is one of disappointment considering the material and talent involved.

Girly (aka Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly) (1970) (1st viewing)
An extraordinary vicious black comedy, featuring one of the most twisted and dysfunctional families ever conceived since Jack Hill’s Spider Baby, luring in unsuspecting visitors who must learn to play by the “rules” or else be punished and “sent to the angels.”  The four titular main characters are a well-oiled unit of homicidal harmony, and all the performances are played to perfection, especially Vanessa Howard’s “Girly” with her short skirts and provocative manner.  But when “new friend” Michael Bryant (recognizable to genre audiences from Nigel Kneale’s The Stone Tape) enters the equation, dynamics change and alliances shift.  Underappreciated and unavailable for years, word on the street is that we will finally see a legit DVD release in Spring 2010.

"CREATURE" FEATURES
Creature with the Atom Brain (1955) (1st viewing)
A zombie film that never calls itself a zombie film, gangster Michael Granger starts using reanimated corpses to carry out his nefarious bidding while heroic (and wildly chauvinistic) scientist Richard Denning does his best to sort out the mess.  Filled with unintentional howlers throughout, this is a highly enjoyable programmer from those two low-budget masters, producer Sam Katzman and director Edward L. Cahn. 

Creature (1985) (1st viewing)
Director/co-writer William Malone’s terrific low-budget Alien-ripoff, elevated by some surprisingly impressive gore and Klaus Kinski’s deranged supporting role.  An archeological space team discovers a derelict ship on one of Jupiter’s moons, only to find it inhabited by a hideous munching beastie.  Fun stuff, with a Ripley-like turn from Diane Salinger (who would memorably appear as “Simone” in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure the same year).

TOD BROWNING FILM FESTIVAL
Unknown, The (1927) (2nd viewing)
Phantom of the Opera and Hunchback of Notre Dame may be the films that Lon Chaney is remembered for, but his portrayal of the knife-throwing “Alonzo the Armless” is truly captivating and chilling, particularly in the final reel.  Also features a young Joan Crawford and Phantom/Hunchback leading man Norman Kerry.

Mark of the Vampire (1935) (2nd viewing)
Tod Browning remakes his own silent London After Midnight, in which Lon Chaney plays dual roles as the inspector on a murder case as well as a vampire claiming victims on a country estate.  Here the two roles are split between Lionel Barrymore as the lawman and, in a stroke of typecasting, Bela Lugosi as the bloodsucker.  Fun stuff.
 
Devil-Doll, The (1936) (2nd viewing)
Lionel Barrymore stars as an escaped (wrongfully accused) convict who hatches a scheme of vengeance upon the three corporate crooks that framed him.  Not an unusual plot device, but how many films involve dressing the main character in old lady drag, shrinking people down to doll size then sending them out to commit murder?  Exactly.  Additionally, the special effects are quite impressive for their day and still hold up.

Unholy Three, The (1925) (1st viewing)
Three sideshow performers (ventriloquist Lon Chaney, midget Harry Earles, strongman Victor McLaglen) team up to become criminals, with Chaney and Earles disguised as an old lady and baby, respectively.  Engaging little morality tale, later remade in 1930 as Chaney’s only sound, and final, film.

PROM NIGHT SEQUELS (though they're not really sequels)
Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II (1987) (2nd viewing)
Prom Night III: The Last Kiss (1990) (1st viewing)
Prom Night IV: Deliver Us from Evil (1992) (1st viewing)
Though all the plots center around a prom of some sort, none of them relate directly to the 1980 Jamie Lee Curtis slasher flick.  Instead, the next two movies in the series follow the exploits of slattern-literally-from-hell Mary Lou Maloney, who seeks vengeance upon those who robbed her of her rightful place among the corsages that fateful night.  A supernatural thriller more than slasher, Part II features a smashing lead performance from Wendy Lyon as the Mary Lou-possessed protagonist and some startling visual effects (the blackboard stunt is awesome, as is the locker room sequence).  PMIII is more of the same, though not nearly as inspired or gory.  The last movie returns to its slasher roots, with a fanatical priest targeting impure co-eds out for a good time.  The biggest problem is that too much time is spent with the main foursome of would-be victims without actually developing characterization (no mean feat, that).  There are a couple decent kills, but overall fails to hold one’s attention.

GEORGE ZUCCO DOUBLE FEATURE
Mad Monster, The (1942) (1st viewing)
Dead Men Walk (1943) (1st viewing)
Though he never reached the heights of other classic horror icons, George Zucco managed to churn out a fair number of quality horror flicks, from major Hollywood as well as Poverty Row studios.  Both of these features are of the latter stripe, both are directed by Sam Newfield, written by Fred Myton, and both feature Zucco in his wheelhouse role of mad scientist.  Mad Monster dabbles in the werewolf mythos, while Dead Men has Zucco playing opposite himself as brothers (one good, one evil, natch). 


2009 Totals:  348 films, 233 first time views, 211 horror, 28 cinema

Hey troops,

Confession time: I've promised myself that I will get caught up to present this week, since I am fully two months behind and nearly 100 Views in the hole. Blearghh.

Problem is that many of the films I watched in October were/are "important" horror flicks (to me, at least), so I was a bit daunted by the task of reviewing them, trying to give them the full respect and attention they deserved while at the same time not simply reiterating what had already been writ before. However, the endless revisions and referencing, while ultimately rewarding, flies in the face of my desire to spend less time at the keyboard. Therefore, a compromise has been struck:

I ultimately decided to give the full treatment to the Peter Cushing's Hammer Frankenstein series and the seven Ray Harryhausen flicks I watched in Ocotober, while the remainder of the month's Views will be handled in a less formal, more off-the-cuff approach with considerably more brevity. (I'm sure this matters to no one at all, but I figured I'd explain the dichotomy before unleashing it upon you, Faithful Readers.)

Thanks for your indulgence. And with that...

Enjoy the Views! As always, feel free to throw in your two cents worth - we'll be sure you get some change back.

HAMMER FRANKENSTEINS
Curse of Frankenstein, The (1957) (2nd viewing)
It’s nearly impossible to overstate the significance of this relatively low-budget British horror offering.  Its release not only launched nascent Hammer studios onto the international radar, its success would pave the way for a second golden age of Gothic horror cinema, this time with a distinctly English accent and in full, vibrant color (sharply dividing camps into Universal and Hammer factions for decades).  Additionally, two new screen/scream icons emerged, their names to be forever entwined:  Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.  As the titular Baron von F. (who would become the focus – and the “monster” – of the series as opposed to his creation), Cushing displays a fanaticism and wit as sharp as his oft-used scalpels, fiercely pursuing his ghoulish goal of creating life from dead tissue.  While Lee is given less opportunity to imbue his creature with the same intricate (and sympathetic) shadings as Karloff, his portrayal proved memorable enough to land him the title role in Hammer’s resurrection of Dracula the following year.  Terence Fisher, also to become a mainstay at the “studio that dripped blood,” directs with skill and style (if without, perhaps, true inspiration).  Jimmy Sangster’s screenplay, which by law could not bear any resemblance to the 1931 Universal classic, steers clear of Mary Shelley’s source novel entirely as well, balancing an economy of setting and characterization within its melodramatic confines.  An enormous financial success both at home and abroad, Curse would spawn five sequels (which occasionally would surpass the original film in quality and depth), as well as a blackly comic, non-Cushing prequel, and inspire countless European and American efforts for years.  With Robert Urquhart, Hazel Court and Valerie Gaunt.
 
Revenge of Frankenstein, The (1958) (2nd viewing)
Following the phenomenal success of Curse of Frankenstein, it became clear to Hammer execs that the erstwhile mad scientist could not simply be sent to the guillotine to perish when there was clearly so much more mileage to be had (and pounds sterling to be made) from his fiendish designs.  Thus director Terence Fisher, screenwriter Jimmy Sangster and star Peter Cushing again united forces, unveiling an intriguing and powerful follow-up that sees the Baron flourishing under a new name (“Dr. Stein”), a new medical practice, but still up to his old stitchery.  This time, Cushing’s focus is on transplanting the brain of his misshapen but devoted assistant into a newly minted “perfect” body – needless to say, all does not go as planned.  Sangster unfurls a script (with additional dialogue by H. Huford Janes) that is in every way superior to the first film’s, allowing Cushing to bestow some much-needed depth and humanity upon the good Baron while still keeping the plot chock-full of morally reprehensible deeds, thus keeping the clamoring fans sated.  Regrettably, though the film filled coffers to overflowing in its day and is in many ways a better, more fulfilling cinematic effort than its predecessor, Revenge’s worthiness has ebbed in the minds of modern horror fans.  It’s an oversight well worth correcting.

Evil of Frankenstein, The (1964) (3rd viewing)
Having witnessed Hammer unveil several lucrative versions of their old monster mash cash cows, Universal eventually loosened the stranglehold on their Frankenstein franchise, allowing their British cousins to freely riff on Jack Pierce’s makeup designs and various plot points from the ’30s-’40s heyday.  Surprisingly, this liberty to borrow from the once-popular well resulted in what is universally (ha ha) recognized as the most stagnant and least-inspired installment in the series.  Much of fans’ ire seems to fall at the feet of makeup whiz Roy Ashton who, although responsible for many iconic creations in the Hammer gallery, attempts to pass off a crudely fashioned papier mache version of Karloff’s squared-off cranial features.  The screenplay by Anthony Hinds (under his “John Elder” pseudonym) features the occasional bright spot (such as the introduction of a sideshow hypnotist who alone is able to awaken the monster’s mind), but also reduces Peter Cushing’s Frankenstein to a petulant hothead at times, a flagrant contradiction to the cunning and cool man of science we’ve seen thus far.  The series’ directing mantle also changed hands, with noted (and future Oscar-winning) cinematographer Freddie Francis taking the chair – Francis does move the camera with more verve than the previous films, and the laboratory sets are the most impressive they had been to this point.  Additionally, there are some fine performances on display:  Cushing is always interesting, as is Peter Woodthorpe’s duplicitous mesmerist, while Katy Wild’s fetching mute beggar girl manages to be both fragile and resourceful in an instant.  However, every time professional wrestler Kiwi Kingston stomps about behind the monster’s adobe-like features, it feels like we’re watching a cheap impression of a Frankenstein movie as opposed to the real deal.
 
Frankenstein Created Woman (1967) (3rd viewing)
Neatly rebounding from the quasi-Universal clunker The Evil of Frankenstein, the fourth chapter in the Hammer Frankenstein saga has the confidence to relegate Peter Cushing’s iconic Victor Frankenstein to a supporting role in this rich ensemble drama filled with engaging performances.  Anthony Hinds’ (writing as “John Elder”) script also tackles the notion of “soul transfers,” an intriguing and original concept especially in a series that had heretofore concerned itself only with the physical elements of humanity and reanimation of dead flesh.  When Frankenstein’s young assistant is wrongfully accused of a murder perpetrated by three young society swells, then subsequently executed, his lover, a kind but crippled village girl, commits suicide.  The good doctor (though still imperious and intolerant of fools, Cushing’s characterization here is the most benevolent we have or will ever see him) seizes this opportunity to attempt a transfer of the guillotined young man’s soul into the female’s drowned body, with success.  However, in addition to being given a grand makeover into a stunning blonde, Frankenstein’s creation now burns for vengeance upon the trio responsible for his/her deaths.  Despite her voice being dubbed by another actress, former Playboy playmate Susan Denberg turns in a subtle, nuanced performance, marking the journey from timid victim to befuddled patient to seductive murderess.  Also lending strong support is grand character actor Thorley Walters as the Baron’s fumbling, awestruck apprentice, so taken with Frankenstein’s powerful intellect and groundbreaking notions that he often takes on the aspect of a world traveler, simultaneously exalted and exhausted by every new discovery.  As per usual, Cushing anchors the film with a lived-in assuredness while displaying fascinating new aspects of this most complicated character, all under the guiding hand of director Terence Fisher who returned to the series after nearly a decade. 
 
Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969) (4th viewing)
Pitch black and pitch perfect, director Terence Fisher’s penultimate Hammer Frankenstein picture is by turns shocking, suspenseful, emotionally moving and genuinely frightening.  Driven from yet another town for his “blasphemous endeavors,” Peter Cushing’s fiercely iconoclastic scientist ensconces himself within the boarding house of a young couple, whom he proceeds to coerce into assisting with his morally dubious experiments.  When Frankenstein discovers that a former colleague and brain transplant expert has been institutionalized, he plots to kidnap and “rehabilitate” the poor chap on his own.  When the associate dies of a heart attack, the determined Baron simply offs another doc at the asylum and swaps out the brains.  This, in turn, leads to the most intriguing part of the film, for what could be more terrifying than to find oneself literally trapped in another body, unable to convince anyone of your true identity?  In this showcase role, esteemed British actor Freddie Jones is nothing short of miraculous – conveying true anguish and desperation in scenes with his disbelieving wife, then shifting to a deadly cold mask of vengeance against the scheming Frankenstein.  Speaking of which, Cushing’s turn here is absolutely his darkest and undeniably capital-E Evil incarnation of the character: he blatantly commits murders, blackmails and bullies the young couple and finally, in one of the studio’s most controversial scenes, proceeds to casually rape heroine Veronica Carlson for no other reason than to show he can.  While a sharp about-face from the previous installment’s touches of benevolence, Cushing manages to be more than just a two-dimensional ogre – through his committed, well-crafted performance, we see the years of single-mindedness and self-convinced superiority have transformed him into an utterly amoral being, one to whom nothing matters but his own desires, however base they might be.  The terrific screenplay is by Bert Batt (based on his screen story with Anthony Nelson-Keys, who also produced), and Fisher’s direction is quite simply top-notch: the scene featuring a burst water main in the backyard rivals Hitchcock at his best.

Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1973) (4th viewing)
The final installment in the Hammer series has young protégé Shane Briant sentenced to an asylum for the criminally insane for trying to recreate some of Frankenstein’s more infamous experiments.  As fate would have it, said nuthouse also houses the aging Baron Victor von F. (again assayed with authority and enthusiasm by the one and only Peter Cushing), who generally has his run of the joint thanks to a bit of blackmail concerning the asylum director.  The Baron’s hands have been badly burned (rendered useless since the conclusion of The Evil of Frankenstein, as fans of the series will recall), but with Briant there to perform the more delicate procedures, characters are soon dropping dead and being brought back to life before you can say “gratuitous onscreen brain transplant.”  David Prowse, who would famously appear opposite Cushing once again in Star Wars (as Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin, respectively), is quite literally saddled with the unenviable task of having to act under, around and through pounds of makeup, yet still manages to pull some genuinely affecting emotional moments.  Madeline Smith, on the other hand, is mind-numbingly vacant in her role as the requisite female ingénue (a quality painfully obvious in her previous Hammer effort, The Vampire Lovers, so one wonders how she got the call). Sadly, the Paramount R1 DVD release is not the uncut version – aside from a few trims in the gorier moments, there is the unforgivable deletion of the scene where a game Cushing assists Briant in surgery by utilizing his teeth to hold some stitches in place.  Even so, this is a very satisfying conclusion to both the franchise (considerably less erratic than Hammer’s Dracula series) and Terence Fisher’s career as a director.

HARRYHAUSEN B/W & IN COLOR
Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, The (1953) (3rd viewing)
This early ’50s sci-fi classic boast a couple of significant “firsts” for giant monster movie fans.   Not only does it mark the solo feature film debut of stop-motion maestro Ray Harryhausen (following an apprenticeship with pioneer Willis O’Brien on the Oscar-winning Mighty Joe Young), it also features the silver screen’s first “atomic monster,” in this case an enormous and enormously ill-tempered Rhedosaurus awakened from its prehistoric slumbers by atomic testing in the Arctic Circle.  As it works its way up down the Atlantic coast, it’s up to square-jawed scientist Paul Christian and a father/daughter team of paleontologists (Paula Raymond, Cecil Kellaway) to stop the behemoth from completely destroying Manhattan.  Not surprisingly, Harryhausen’s effects are the star of the show, and even a half-century later, they do not disappoint.  That’s a very young Lee Van Cleef as the sharpshooter during the Coney Island-set finale.  Ably directed with pace and energy by Eugene Lourie, from a script inspired by Harryhausen pal Ray Bradbury’s short story, “The Fog Horn.”

It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955) (2nd viewing)
While marking the first collaboration between the stop-motion genius of Ray Harryhausen and producer Charles H. Schneer, this giant octopus yarn is less satisfying overall  than their subsequent efforts.  The opening sequence of an underwater attack on an atomic submarine is sharply directed, but then director Robert Gordon and screenwriters George Worthing Yates and Hal Smith bog things down with “documentary-style” narration and an unnecessary love triangle of jarhead Kenneth Tobey and egghead Donald Curtis vying for comely oceanologist Faith Domergue’s attentions.  The six-legged octopus (de-limbed by budgetary constraints) appears in its full glory around the halfway point, and its assault on the Golden Gate Bridge is hugely enjoyable. There exists an occasional uneasy mix between the live action and rear projection effects throughout, more noticeable than it would be in future Harryhausen/Schneer films.  The final third of the movie is a terrific display of mayhem as the mutant cephalopod attacks San Francisco, although the climax is a bit of a letdown.  Overall, not a bad time, and a glimpse at wonders to come.

 
Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956) (3rd viewing)
With the “keep watching the skies” craze in full swing, Ray Harryhausen takes his turn at bat in the alien invasion sweepstakes, with dazzling results.  While the live-action bipedal spacemen are decidedly less-than-stellar (hee hee), Harryhausen’s whirring, whizzing saucers flit and flicker all over the skies, laying waste to meticulous miniature models everywhere.  The climactic images of Washington D.C. being mercilessly pounded by the intergalactic invaders are indelibly iconic (the toppling of the Washington Monument, the Capitol Dome pierced by a crash-landing saucer).  At the helm, Fred F. Sears (best known as a director of/actor in Westerns) keeps the action flying fast and furious, hopefully distracting viewers from the inherent silliness wrought within the three-headed screenplay by Curt Siodmak, George Worthing Yates and Bernard Gordon.  While not a classic along the lines of 1953’s War of the Worlds, it’s still rousing entertainment for genre fans and an obvious precursor to the effects-laden destructo-fests of the modern era.
 
20 Million Miles to Earth (1957) (2nd viewing)
Following a crash landing in the Mediterranean Sea, a returning probe from Venus brings to Earth one of Ray Harryhausen’s most magnificent stop-motion creations:  the Ymir.  Looking like a dinosaur with gills, beak, and a weightlifter’s torso, the creature arrives in a specimen canister in larval state, but upon exposure to our atmosphere begins increasing in size at an astonishing rate.  While much of the story concerns scientist William Hopper’s attempts to capture the monster while the Italian government seeks to destroy it, the film transcends itself every time Harryhausen works his onscreen magic.  The battle between an unfortunate zoo elephant and the Ymir is a highlight, as well as a thrilling climax atop the Colosseum in Rome.  Like its cinematic elder King Kong, the audience sympathizes with the beast flailing in a world that it never asked to be a part of, a testament to the personality and character given to it by its creator.  Armed with an intelligent screenplay and Nathan Juran’s crisp direction (who would helm the following year’s 7th Voyage of Sinbad), this is one of the better monster-on-the-loose opuses, to be enjoyed by adults and kids alike.
 
Mysterious Island (1961) (4th viewing)
Based on the novel by Jules Verne, this rambunctious fantasy allowed Ray Harryhausen opportunities aplenty to ambulate oversized beasts of every stripe, be they crustaceans, bumblebees or giant squawking fowl.  Having escaped from a Confederate prison in a renegade weather balloon, a group of Civil War soldiers find themselves deposited upon the titular island inhabited by glandular cases cultivated by none other than Captain Nemo (Herbert Lom) as a means of eliminating world hunger, and in turn, world conflict.  Fanciful and juvenile in the best way, the nondescript cast (led by Michael Craig) ricochets from one remarkable encounter with Harryhausen’s animated creations to another, all in vivid color and wonderfully underscored by Bernard Herrmann’s pounding tempos.  Lom’s Nemo, while outclassed by James Mason’s definitive portrayal in Disney’s 1954 version of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, provides necessary gravitas and mystery, while Joan Greenwood and Beth Rogan provide the feminine touch as a pair of shipwrecked Englishwomen. Delightful.

Valley of Gwangi, The (1969) (2nd viewing)
Combining the wildly disparate elements of cowboys and dinosaurs, 9-year-old boys of all ages should have a high old time with this high-concept marriage made in heaven.  (If effects genius Ray Harryhausen and producer Charles H. Schneer could have found a way to shoehorn spacemen in there, they would have had the cub scout trifecta.)  Rowdy buckaroo James Franciscus learns that his old flame Gila Golan has laid hands on a long-thought-extinct miniature horse, the Eohippus, planning to make her fortune showing it off in her Wild West show.  When the frightened locals return the tiny hayburner to its rightful home, Franciscus and company head into the forgotten valley to lock horns and lassos with a bevy of prehistoric beasties, including a vibrantly blue-skinned and ill-tempered Allosaurus whom they capture for exhibition purposes (yet another page taken from Harryhausen’s seminal influence, King Kong).  Like the great ape of ’33, “Gwangi” (as the dishy dino is dubbed) predictably makes his escape and proceeds to tear up the Mexican village, to the terror of the provincial inhabitants and the delight of viewers.  Distributed by Warner Bros., Gwangi has not enjoyed the same visibility as Harryhausen’s Columbia pictures, which is surprising considering it represents some of his finest technical work.  Well worth seeking out.  Directed by Jim O’Connelly.

Clash of the Titans (1981) (4th viewing)
Greek mythology provides the fertile ground for Ray Harryhausen’s swan song, highlighted by some of his most impressive stop-motion animation and visual effects, then further buoyed by its all-star cast.  Harry Hamlin stars as Perseus, a strapping example of manhood (born of Zeus’ coupling with a mortal female) who falls madly for beautiful princess Judi Bowker.  Unfortunately for the potential lovebirds, Bowker is prisoner to a magical curse cast by the grotesquely distorted Caliban, the release from which requires more than a little divine intervention.  Mechanical owls, flying horses, magical shields, swords and cloaks are but a few of the tools required by Hamlin to face off against the diabolical menace of giant scorpions, blind witches and enormous sea monsters.  But it is the longbow-wielding gorgon Medusa, a half-woman/half-snake creature crowned by a tangle of hissing serpents, which proves to be his most lethal opponent – and one of Harryhausen’s crowning achievements.  The more-than-able ensemble includes such notable thespians as Burgess Meredith, Maggie Smith, Claire Bloom, Freda Jackson, Ursula Andress, Sian Phillips, and capped by a very plummy performance from Sir Laurence Olivier as Zeus.  In spite of feeling a bit padded at times (at two hours, it’s far and away the lengthiest of producer Charles H. Schneer’s collaborations with Harryhausen), there is enough spectacle – and some surprising flashes of nudity from Bowker – to hold the attention.

2009 Totals:  333 films, 219 first time views, 195 horror, 27 cinema

 

Hey kids,

I gotta say, this year has been one of the most bizarre in terms of being absent for numerous key events in the Midwest horror calendar.  Most, if not all, of the conflicts have come as a result of employment opportunities and let it never be said that I’m not grateful for the chance to work and receive financial remuneration.  However, I am equally grateful that I was able to attend at least one full-fledged horror convention in the waning weeks of 2009, and that this past weekend in Cincinnati was as entertaining as I could have hoped....

Our second installment features 5 recent indie horror from the US, Canada and Australia (I imagine even the civilians might have heard of at least one of them - Hint: Intials P.A.), plus a pair of urban thrillers from the man called Clint.

HORROR:

MORE NEW BLOOD:
House of the Devil (2009) (1st and 2nd viewings)
Having not seen indie horror contender Ti West’s other flicks (The Roost, Triggerman), I cannot vouch for the buzz on the street that his latest effort represents a quantum leap in quality and skill.  I can, however, attest that both of these qualities are present in spades throughout the entirety of this ’80s-infused tale of babysitters and Satanists.   Fresh-faced Jocelin Donahue stars as a cash-strapped college student who accepts a gig watching creepy couple Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov’s elderly mother while they are out for the evening, against the protests of bubbly gal pal Greta Gerwig. While the subject matter and isolated setting don’t set any records for originality, West’s slow-burn build of tension and dread-filled atmosphere is quite impressive, as is his ear for dialogue.  Veterans Noonan and Woronov sink their teeth into their juiciest genre roles in years, while newcomers Donahue and Gerwig make for a delightful pair of innocents.  One of the better fright films of 2009.

Nature’s Grave (aka Long Weekend) (2008) (1st viewing)
Jamie Blanks continues a welcome about-face from his early career Scream clone Urban Legend with this laudably faithful remake of the 1978 environmental horror flick Long Weekend.  In spite of the unfortunate retitling, this is ostensibly a scene-for-scene updating of Everett DeRoche’s original script (performed by the scribe himself), with Jim Caveziel and Claudia Karvan stepping into the sandals of a bickering couple on holiday in the Outback.  Idling littering and shooting off his rifle, Caveziel embodies the ignorant self-possessed male urbanite; Karvan generates a modicum more sympathy as she endures hubby’s boorishness.  Though some might prefer the richness of Colin Eggleston’s ’70s texture, Blanks serves up some achingly gorgeous shots of oceanside flora and fauna, admirably mixing majesty with menace as nature slowly, inexorably rebels against the interlopers.  Potentially redundant to fans of the original, but a worthy attempt nonetheless.

Paranormal Activity (2007) (1st viewing)
Paramount’s plucking of this microbudget feature from obscurity and its nimble (some might say omnipresent) word-of-mouth marketing scheme will undoubtedly go down as one of the biggest Cinderella stories in horror history.  Shot for a paltry $11,000, writer/editor/producer/director Oren Peli’s first-person account of a young couple plagued by inexplicable happenings in their new suburban home works surprisingly well under its own limitations, or perhaps because of them.  Like its stylistic and spiritual companion piece, 1999’s The Blair Witch Project (itself another stunning, out-of-nowhere indie success story), Paranormal’s strengths lie in its ability to tap into primal, everyday fears:  a new building’s unexplained creaks and groans, a partner’s emotional swings, etc.  Other recent features have utilized the now-familiar camcorder POV “found footage” convention, some of them admirably, but what sets Peli’s feature apart is its simplicity and courage to allow mundane objects/events, like Blair Witch’s stone piles and stickmen, to take on heightened significance.  It’s a deceptively simple high-wire act that works better than it has any right to, and while not a perfect (or even a “great”) film, it contains more genuinely creepy and unsettling onscreen moments than all of Hollywood’s big budget remakes of the last 15 years put together.  Applause, applause.

Pontypool (2008) (1st viewing)
A fiercely intelligent variation on the prevalent “zombie/infected hordes” theme, firmly anchored by film and TV veteran Stephen McHattie’s charismatic central performance.  Exiled to the wastelands of rural Ontario, a former shock jock radio personality finds himself caught up in increasingly bizarre circumstances as reports pour in of a deadly, murderous virus sweeping the surrounding area.  Director Bruce McDonald cultivates an increasingly claustrophobic atmosphere within the radio station’s confines, further heightened by the on-air team’s frantic attempts to provide listeners with information (when little is known or forthcoming).  Lisa Houle does well as the harried program director, but it’s McHattie’s show all the way, his dulcet, whiskey-honed bass voice tearing into screenwriter Tony Burgess’ dialogue with undisguised relish.  (Burgess adapted his own novel, Pontypool Changes Everything.)  Smart and sharp, cruel and clever, dire and dark and full of surprises.  Highly recommended.

Smash Cut (2009) (1st viewing)
After his latest film receives deservedly scathing reviews, a horror/schlock director (Last House on the Left’s David Hess) decides that he will take up arms (…and legs…and spleens) against his critics by murdering everyone around him, using authentically bloody limbs in place of cheapie props.  Canadian director Lee Demarbre (Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter) and screenwriter Ian Driscoll collaborate on this sanguinary love letter to gore pioneer Herschell Gordon Lewis, who even opens the picture with a cameo.  It’s all pretty silly stuff, with goofy splatter running down the lens and disembodied body parts flying faster than migratory waterfowl.  However, in making an intentionally schlocky low-budget film about a schlocky low-budget filmmaker making a schlocky low-budget film, one gets the impression that Demarbre and Co. are playing tennis without a net – after all, who could take such a  film seriously enough to criticize it?  There are a few clever moments, but everything goes pretty much as expected from start to finish, with Hess happily snacking on the scenery.  Porn star Sasha Grey co-stars, keeping her clothes on for a change, while Michael Berryman scores big time in his small-but-funny role as Hess’ agent.

CIVILIAN:

SQUINT EASTWOOD DOUBLE FEATURE:

Gauntlet, The (1977) (2nd viewing)
Clint directs himself as a tough, low-on-the-totem-pole cop assigned to deliver call girl Sondra Locke from Las Vegas to Phoenix in order that she can testify in a mob trial, only to discover that no one really wants him to live long enough to complete the task.  Gritty tough guy stuff, with numerous memorable action sequences including the “million bullet finale.”

Magnum Force (1973) (3rd viewing)
“Dirty Harry” Callahan returns in this first follow-up to the 1971 hit, this time fighting an elite clique of police officers who have taken Harry’s vigilante leanings to the next level, acting as judge, jury and executioners of whomever they find lacking in “moral fortitude.”  Muddled but spirited direction by Ted Post, while Hal Holbrook proves a worthy onscreen foil.  That’s Starsky and Hutch’s David Soul as one of the killer cops.

2009 Totals:  316 films, 218 first time views, 179 horror, 28 cinema

Hey kids,

This installment focuses on the feast that was the week leading up to the US Open, then the famine that ensued throughout the remainder of September.  (Seriously, I saw five, count ‘em FIVE movies the entire month.  Those that know me are aware that I’ll watch that many in a single day at times.)  All I can say is, I hope you tennis and DEATHSCRIBE fans enjoyed yourselves, became it came at a dear price.  *Single tear slides down cheek.*

I’ve broken the Views for this time period into two parts, so that the individual films can get their due.  Some are good, some are bad, and some…  Well, you’ll just have to make up your mind for yourself.

As always, feel free to leave your two cents worth – we’ll make sure you get some change back.

Enjoy!

HORROR:
Bug (1975) (2nd viewing)
Based on Thomas Page’s novel The Hephaestus Plague, this entertainingly far-fetched yarn about incendiary supercockroaches unleashed following an earthquake would prove to be producer William Castle’s final film.  Bradford Dillman stars as a local professor of entomology increasingly obsessed with eradicating the buggy menace; his well-modulated and emotional performance goes a long way towards selling the goofy plot.  But it’s the titular creepy crawlies who steal the film, burrowing into every nook, cranny, exhaust pipe and phone receiver, then burning and/or blowing things up real good.  Directed by TV stalwart Jeannot Szwarc (who would later helm such “classics” as Jaws 2, Supergirl, and Santa Claus: the Movie) and co-written by Castle and Page.  Yes, Virginia, that is the Brady Bunch kitchen set!

Carry On Screaming! (1966) (1st viewing)
The 12th in the immensely popular “Carry On…” series, longtime director Gerald Thomas, screenwriter Talbot Rothwell and a hilarious ensemble of British players tweak every horror convention ever wrought upon the silver screen.  From Frankenstein monsters to vampires, werewolves to hunchback assistants, no cow is too sacred, no joke too cheap, no double entendre too low for this merry band of madcap mockery, and the results are belly laughs aplenty. 

My Bloody Valentine (1981) (1st viewing)
Seeing the director’s cut of this early 80s Canadian slasher flick is akin to seeing a whole new film, one with markedly increased splatter stock.  In addition to the infamous “shower head” sequence, the restored footage ups the gore quotient in nearly all the murder scenes, and lest we forget, this was the time when it was all about the kills.  What was once a fairly tame, if atmospheric thriller about a small mining community menaced by a pickaxe-wielding, gas-mask-wearing maniac earns its rightful stripes as a highly entertaining subgenre mini-classic.  Regrettably, the acting remains as clunky and the characters as tiresome, but battle-hardened gorehounds won’t find either too offensive, and the increased bloodletting makes it all slide down a lot easier.

Ripper (2001) (1st viewing)
Yet another new millennial direct-to-video Scream-inspired body count movie, one whose willfully oblique plotline follows a class of Berkley forensic science students trying to unravel a Jack the Ripper copycat killer.  While director John Eyres exhibits considerable polish and style, especially during the refreshingly gruesome slaying sequences, there’s no getting around the painful posturing and labored emoting of his less-than-able cast.  Pat Bermel’s script careens wildly between vapid teen angst whining and wannabe deep psychological classroom discussion, and after 115 minutes of this nonsense, the ambiguous no-ending ending thoroughly dissatisfies.  Also, though I could be wrong, I’m fairly certain Jack the Ripper never ran anyone over with a Jeep nor ran them through a buzzsaw. 

THE NEW BLOOD:

Friday the 13th (2009) (1st viewing)
Jason’s back, or is he?  Michael Bay’s Platinum Dunes re-envisions everyone’s favorite hockey-mask wearing psychopath as a longbow-shooting, trap-laying, machete-swinging mountain man.  Yes, there are boobs and blood, but it all feels incredibly factory-processed and unimaginative, without a single memorable offing in the whole she-bang.  Yawn.  Directed by Marcus Nispel, who also helmed 2003’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre redux.

Grace (2009) (1st viewing)
Jordan Ladd has been steadily building herself quite the horror resume, with roles in Eli Roth’s Cabin Fever and Hostel Part Two, David Lynch’s Inland Empire and Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof.  But her fearless turn as an expectant mother who elects to carry her child to term after it dies in an auto accident is a revelation, as is what occurs after the birth.  Writer/director Paul Solet crafts an intelligent and oogy bit of exploitation that could be described as a Lifetime movie conceived by George Romero, dominated by firecracker performances from his estrogen-fueled ensemble.

Halloween II (2009) (1st viewing)
Because I hated Rob Zombie’s 2007 “reimagining” of John Carpenter’s classic with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, I had no preconceived notions of enjoyment entering the sequel (in fact, I had dug a healthy trench in my inner landscaping to accommodate lowered expectations).  And yet, I was disappointed.  Amidst the joylessness that pervades throughout, characterization and dialogue ring reprehensively false at nearly every turn, while the scenes of “brutal” violence are crudely fashioned – who is entertained by this?  It’s as if Zombie is reveling in his own artlessness, a suspicion furthered by select scenes that clearly demonstrate his ability to make a good movie were he of such a mind.  Endless scenes of Michael Myers endlessly pounding his knife through victims’ ribcages are not scary, nor are they gross, repellent or horrific in any manner.  They’re just a bummer.  I could rant further about the inexplicable refashioning of the characters’ motivations from their previous incarnation or the fact that one could barely call them characters in the first place…but what’s the point?  It’s clear Zombie doesn’t care about such things, while I, on the other hand, do.  Walk away, Rob, and don’t let your’70s soundtracks hit your in the arse on the way out.


CIVILIAN:

Contender, The (2000) (2nd viewing)
Joan Allen leads an all-star cast in this gripping liberal fist-pumper about a female senator’s appointment as a Vice Presidential candidate, and the subsequent blistering scrutiny of her past and ideologies.  Well done, though it’s clear writer/director Rod Lurie isn’t really interested in telling a fair and balanced story, but spinning a political fantasy.

Inglourious Basterds (2009) (1st viewing)
A doozy of alternative history, this is Quentin Tarantino at his most indulgent, switching up genre conventions (WWII adventure pic, spaghetti westerns, etc.) and tonal shifts with such wild abandon that it quickly becomes evident that said exercise in celluloidal masturbation is being performed foremost for his and his cast’s personal enjoyment.  If the audience happens to cotton to the beat he’s laying down, I’m sure that’s cool by QT, but this particular 800 lb gorilla ain’t playing by anybody’s rules but his own anymore – at times the stench of self-importance and self-satisfaction gets a bit thick.  Regardless of one’s issues with narrative, however, there’s no denying the film’s beauty and as usual, Tarantino’s ensemble brings their A-game (Eli Roth excepted with extreme prejudice).

Leatherheads (2008) (1st viewing)
Jaunty and likable period piece about the early days of professional football, directed by and starring George Clooney, with Renee Zellwegger and Jon Krasinski offering breezy support.  Instantly forgettable, but enjoyable nonetheless.

No Impact Man (2009) (1st viewing)
Thought-provoking documentary that follows writer Colin Beaven as he attempts to reduce his and his family’s carbon footprint to zero over the course of a year living in Manhattan.  But his attempt to bring attention to the wastefulness of Western living also draws the ire of detractors everywhere, who ridicule his efforts as nothing more than shameless self-publicity and “greenie” showboating.  Personally, I was fascinated by Beaven’s self-awareness of how a model example of “doing the best one can” can be quickly marginalized into “that self-serving, attention-whore and/or weirdo.”  As Beaven himself says, “I’m not saying everyone should do what we’re doing.  I’m just saying that we could all do better.”  Does his message carry?  See for yourself. 

Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) (2nd viewing)
Labored and creaky and far, far too precious from the outset, the best thing that can be said about the initial big screen adventures of the Starship Enterprise is that it made enough money to justify greenlighting The Wrath of Khan.  Everyone seems a little unsure of their footing, from the reunited TV castmates to director Robert Wise to screenwriter Harold Livingston, and not just during those still-unconvincing shifts of the ship’s bridge from side to side.  Happily for Trekkers and general audiences everywhere, things got better the next time out.

Yes, we are nearly three months behind. Wanna make something of it? ;-]

This week (8/10 - 8/16) was the week of Terror in the Aisles 2, after which things got increasingly insane, what with heading off to NYC for nearly three weeks for the US Tennis Open, all the while hustling to get DEATHSCRIBE affairs in order, and feeling the hot breath of imminent McB rehearsals upon my neck. Suffice to say, I felt that spending a couple hours writing movie reviews was probably not in the cards. Then the show was rehearsing, the October Horror Movie Challenge was in full swing, and well, I just wasn't in the MOOD.

Now, however, things have settled down somewhat and affairs can be finally put in order. It'll be a long haul getting caught up, but I have faith we'll get there.

In the meantime, enjoy the Views! As always, feel free to leave your two cents worth - we'll make sure you get some change back...

HORROR:
Black Water (2007) (1st viewing)
Killer crocodile flick from Down Under has realism going for it (these aren’t giant monsters, just hungry reptiles with lots of sharp gnashing teeth and bad attitudes to match), but falls short in the thrills department.  The acting is solid and kudos for attempting to make a croc movie that resembles what it probably feels like to be trapped and stalked by the beasties in the Outback.  But with only three main characters, there is far too little crunching and munching to sustain the attention of “gators gone wild” fans.

Deadly Blessing (1981) (3rd viewing)
Puzzlingly neglected Wes Craven film about the potential rise of a demon (or “incubus”) in a Hittite community led by Ernest Borgnine.  In addition to numerous well-executed scenes of gore and suspense (including a bathtub scene that Craven would duplicate three years later in A Nightmare on Elm Street), the cast also features Sharon Stone, Michael Berryman and Lisa Hartman.  With a pedigree like that, it’s surprising that no one has bothered to give this the shiny silver disc treatment yet.

I Sell the Dead (2008) (1st viewing)
Spritely horror comedy about two grave robbers (Dominic Monaghan, Larry Fessenden) whose freshly unearthed quarry begin to exhibit signs of life.  Writer/director Glenn McQuaid performs a nice balancing act between the macabre and the manic, and his players are more than up to the challenge.  (Fessenden, in particular, seems to be having a ball in his first leading role in years.)  Offbeat and entertaining, well worth checking out.

Offerings (1989) (1st viewing)
Shot in Oklahoma, writer/director Christopher Reynolds isn’t content to merely make a slasher flick derivative of John Carpenter’s classic Halloween – instead he borrows that film’s plot, characters and musical soundtrack nearly wholesale.  Actively off-putting in the acting/directing departments and pretty skimpy on gore (though the “sausage pizza” scene at least made me smile).  Slasher completists may find this of interest; no others need apply.

Pieces (1982) (3rd viewing)
“You don’t have to go to Texas for a chainsaw massacre!” screamed the ad line, and boy, they weren’t kidding.  This legendary Spanish splatterfest doles out the gore by the bucketload, but what really sets it apart are the astonishing lapses in narrative logic and the wealth of buh-rilliantly inept performances by Christopher George, Susan Day George, Paul Smith…heck, pretty much everyone involved!  In addition to the already loopy plot about a killer assembling a dream girl from hacked-off sections of his victims, viewers are treated to jaw-dropping onscreen moments that include the most random kung fu attack in cinema history and Day George’s immortal line reading of “Bastards!  BAAAAAASTARDS!  BASTARRRRDS!”  Seriously, this is must-see material for gorehounds and bad movie lovers alike.

Psycho (1960) (7th viewing)
What more can be said about Alfred Hitchcock’s classic horror flick and spiritual grandpappy to slasher flicks everywhere?  Only that as we watched it in Grant Park this summer as part of Chicago’s Outdoor Film Festival, it still packs a wallop.  There were a few inappropriate laughs here and there, but for the most part, this 50 year-old-film held the attentions of a zillion or so people, most of whom knew exactly what was going to happen.  Also, Anthony Perkins is really, really, really good.  No, really.  If you haven’t seen this in a while, revisit it.  And if you’ve never seen it (and I mean really seen it, not just the shower scene), you are missing out on a piece of cultural history and a great film besides.

Thirst (2009) (1st viewing)
Chan-wook Park’s (Oldboy) latest offers up a variety of intriguing intellectual ideas, as well as a feast for the eyes.  Acclaimed Korean actor Song Kang-ho plays a devout man of god who subjects himself to a medical experiment, only to have it go horribly awry and turn him into a vampire. Repressing his sanguinary urges proves difficult, but temptation also rises in the form of his best friend’s beautiful wife, who craves his attentions and doesn’t mind the risk of becoming similarly infected.  While its deliberate pace may prove off-putting to some (I can’t say I would have minded a few edits myself), for the most part there are enough original ideas, as well as equal amounts of splashy bloodletting and black comedy, to keep viewers’ attention.

Trick ’r Treat (2008) (1st viewing)
Writer/director Michael Dougherty delivers a blood-soaked candy basket to horror fans everywhere with this cleverly structured, EC comics-flavored anthology piece, offering up four interlocking stories all taking place in the same neighborhood over the course of Halloween night.  With such stalwart ensemble members as Anna Paquin, Dylan Baker and Brian Cox lending able support, this is a well-acted and gorgeously photographed celebration of all things midnight and monstrous.  Could easily become a new holiday favorite, and considering the long and fumbling path that Warner Brothers took with the film’s distribution, that could be the happy ending Dougherty and Co. deserve.

CIVILIAN:
American Storytellers (2003) (1st viewing)
Documentary with directors Forrest Whitaker, Harold Ramis, John Sayles and John McNaughton.  Pretty standard talking head stuff about “the craft” and humble beginnings, but nobody takes themselves too seriously and pretensions are kept to a minimum.

Brick (2005) (1st viewing)
Writer/director Rian Johnson’s modern day noir set in a suburban high school is fresh and vibrant, filled with oddball characters, savory dialogue and inspired cinematography, all done on the down and dirty.  What could have been an awkward stunt of revisionism instead plays like an inspired love letter to both gritty indie dramas and the classic studio programmers of yore.  Johnson is a talent to watch (his latest, The Brothers Bloom, premiered last year with Adrien Brody, Rachel Weisz and Mark Ruffalo.)

Good Night and Good Luck (2005) (1st viewing)
Gripping, hard-nosed dramatization of the public battle between broadcast journalist Edward R. Murrow and Sen. Joseph McCarthy.  Directed by George Clooney, with David Straitharn leading a top-notch cast.

Lives of Others, The (2006) (1st viewing)
Yes, this is the picture that won the Best Foreign Film Oscar instead of Pan’s Labyrinth.  Luckily, this tale of a morally conflicted secret policeman in 1980s East Berlin is heart-wrenching, terrifying and utterly riveting, so I no longer hold a grudge against it. 

Mutant Chronicles (2008) (1st viewing)
Alternative history sci-fi flick whose outstanding visual design and dust-choked atmosphere can’t mask the fact that we’ve seen the story of the ragtag group of mismatched mercenaries assembled for a suicide mission in a last ditch effort to save a dying world (need I go on?) before.  The cardboard characterizations by Thomas Jane, Ron Perlman, et al don’t help matters.

Shine A Light (2008) (1st viewing)
It’s the Stones!  In concert!  They’re really, really old and they still rock hard!  Martin Scorsese directs!  Wooo-hoooo!  (pause)  What do you mean you’re a Beatles fan?

ROMAN POLANSKI DOUBLE FEATURE:
Macbeth (1971) (2nd viewing)
This moody, dirty, bloody, sullen screen version of Shakespeare’s famous yarn about a certain overambitious Scottish King was Polanski’s first film after wife Sharon Tate was brutally murdered by the Manson Family.  While exquisitely photographed and superlatively performed, the unwavering bleakness eventually grows monotonous, robbing the narrative of its emotional heft.  However, unlike many filmed combat sequences, the wickedly clunky sword-swinging finale feels truly organic.

Tess (1979) (1st viewing)
Onscreen nearly the entire 3-hour running time, Nastassja Kinski is radiant as Thomas Hardy’s “pure woman,” and her heartbreaking characterization anchors the picture emotionally while Polanski and Oscar-winning cinematographers Ghislain Cloquet and Geoffrey Unsworth create earthy and bucolic visual poetry around her.  Tragic and doomed, Kinski maintains a fierce inner strength throughout, and though she plays against her looks, it’s clear that both the camera and Polanski love her. 

2009 Totals: 295 films, 205 1st time views, 153 horror, 24 cinema