by
Kristin Battestella
By
design or cancellation, here's another helping of short lived
television scares, creepers, documentaries, and fantasy to binge or
avoid.
100 Years of Horror –
Christopher Lee hosts these twenty-six half hour episodes from
producer Ted Newsom (Flesh
and Blood: The Hammer Heritage of Horror)
– so don't let the very, very dated 1996 bad opening animations and
made on the cheap poor video style deter you. Every scary topic one
can expect is here from “Dracula and His Disciples” and “Blood
Drinking Beings” to “Frankenstein's Friends,” “Mad Doctors,”
and “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” Common topics such as
“Werewolves,” “Ghosts,” “Witches,” “Mummies,” and
“Zombies,” get their due alongside more unusual ground such as
“Aliens,” “Mutants,” “Freaks,” and “Dinosaurs.”
Interviewees such as Bela Lugosi Jr., Sarah Karloff, Hugh Hefner,
Roger Corman, Hazel Court, John Carpenter, Caroline Munro, and
Richard Matheson discuss “Bela Lugosi,” “Boris Karloff,” and
“Scream Queens,” too. The overlapping topics are at times broad
and there's nothing new for die hard horror fans – the series
should have been a tight ten hour presentation as some of the VHS
editions appear to have done. However, this does pack in a lot of
rare photographs and archive footage of John Carradine, Vincent
Price, and Peter Cushing. Brief nudity in the film clips earn MA
warnings, and the subject matter isn't always family friendly, but
overall this remains a nostalgic, informative set recalling the
chronological growth of horror cinema from silent films and scary
television parallels to the new millennium. Of course, it's great to
hear Lee's booming yet casual narrative, dry wit, and conversational
hosting style. The series is worth it just for his recollections –
with more than enough pick and choose bonuses to get into a Halloween
mood. 
The Enfield Haunting –
Matthew Macfadyen (MI-5) and Timothy Spall (Harry Potter)
star in this 2015 three part British miniseries recounting one
family's 1977 paranormal encounter. Hide and seek in a cemetery and
telling urban legends forebode the scares to come, however seventies
touches such as knee high socks, the old ring ring on the horseshoe
phone, viewfinders, a big television, and Starsky & Hutch
posters add a sense of innocence, endearing the viewer with nostalgia
before the creaking noises, phantom tappings at the door, and
furniture that moves by itself. Psychic researchers and paranormal
writers come with their giant cameras, capturing only ghostly video
glitches and spooky static, but the interviews with the children are
natural and well-done. Family conflict, past trauma, medical issues,
and heart pills add to the freaky old man imagery, skepticism, and
scary toppers while Episode Two brings debates about how to proceed.
The entity follows the children to a relative's house but asking what
it wants leads to frightful possessions and apparitions in the
mirror. Are these mediums or charlatans? Is this a poltergeist or
youth acting out? The investigators must face their own personal
demons amid escalating one knock yes, two knocks no questionings.
Quick library research moments and scenes with surviving residents
detract slightly from the congested house, as eerie telephone calls
and arguments over writing a book exploitations work better. The
division among the experts skirts most of the real world doubting or
then-hoax possibilities, and liberties are taken with a seemingly
forgotten son and prior child deaths in the house or innuendo of past
abuses only briefly mentioned. Fortunately, there are lighthearted
quips alleviating the scares, after all, foul mouthed possessed kids
can make a social visit pretty awkward and poltergeists sure are
messy! By the Third Hour levitating urns, vocal trickery, orbs, and
the seemingly vanquished moves fast with newspapers ready to jump on
the story. Phantom doorbells, doppelgangers, and hospital cruelty
create neurology versus mysticism questions alongside implications of
self-harm, misplaced resentment, and unresolved grief. Is this a
ghost with unfinished business or something more tangible? There are
a few good shocks, but this tale is told in the time allotted without
an urgency for over the top theatrics. The family drama remains at
the forefront here thanks to choice paranormal frights and fine
performances. 
Split
Call
Robin Hood
– Although technically not short lived at three thirteen episode
seasons, this 2006 take on the legend moves fast, remaining messy
throughout its tenure with too many zooms, chop edits, and tracking
cameras. Despite the medieval setting, loud music, intrusive modern
dialogue, anachronistic weapons, and desperately inaccurate ladies
costumes interfere with viewer immersion. You can have a humorous
episode or character, but the tone flip flops from scene to scene –
is this a camp fantasy or serious moral play? The origins of Robin
becoming the Hood and the introductions of the outlaws over the first
season are lovely, however, the 45 minute round and round padding
gets old fast. Audiences can only believe Robin's hollow threats to
kill the Sheriff so many times when they chat weekly and have several
opportunities to harm each other – it's Cobra shaking his fist on
G.I.
Joe.
This
superficial structure isn't the actors fault, but I don't care for
Much,
Marian, Allan A Dale, or Keith Allen who must have been directed to
play the Sheriff of Nottingham as a poor man's Tim Curry. Worse
still, gung ho, never shrewd, and not always likable Robin is only
into stealing from the rich for the glory, and any character
developments feel too tame or are forgotten by the next episode. Why
not have Robin be anonymous, disappeared, or absent altogether ala
Blake's
7?
Of course, fans will eat up the Guy Gisborne guyliner and shirtless
Richard
Armitage scene chewing, but there should have been more of the mature
family drama with Gordon Kennedy as Little John and the criminally
(ha, pun) underused Harry Lloyd as Will Scarlett. A family friendly
show doesn't have to be juvenile, and the serious character moments
are better than the preposterous Old West saloons, babies, PTSD
(complete with camouflage pants!), and National
Treasure
gimmicks
intruding on the quality middle of Season Two. The deaths,
betrayal, consequences, regal surprises, and great adventure drama
comes too late, leaving unrealized
potential or what should have been glasses clouding the viewing. I
remember
why I didn't like watching this show the first time around, and my
gosh do not
bother with Season Three!
Skip
It
Cult – I had a lot
of notes regarding this thirteen episode 2013 show within a show
thriller. However, the always deliciously demented Robert Knepper
(Prison Break) is the only real reason to tune in – and he
isn't given much to do despite having a dual role amid this
intriguing premise blurring the lines between television fiction and
fandom reality. Are there really subliminal workings in media or just
warped fans with a runaway theory? I almost wish the crime
investigation and the titular internal series were separate shows,
for the inside actors trying to not cross characters lines or crazed
fans seem more interesting. Unfortunately, the disc encryptions, chat
rooms, internet cafes, supposedly secret roleplaying, and newspaper
reporter lead are terribly dated. Episodes run as short as forty
minutes, and hokey, clue revealing 3D glasses play like an evil
National Treasure. The CW goes overboard with inside promos
and name drops, but pointless VHS skipping transitions and faux
static can't hide on set unrealistics, sloppy detective contrivances,
pretentious viewer interactivity, and lame torturing. Traditional
intercut structuring breaks established point of view rules by
presenting the inside show as the B plot instead of someone onscreen
watching it. Throwaway events, uneven suspicions, and nonsensical
catchphrases also make for poorly paced storylines. Rather than
piecemeal with flat costume party wannabes and hypocritical
statements, the show within should have been revealed in order or
watched early each episode for parallel hints. Weekly killer teen
obnoxiousness clutters the overlooked resources and obvious
information that would solve everything, and only one protagonist is
really needed – either reporter Matthew Davis (The Vampire
Diaries) seeking his brother or show assistant Jessica Lucas
(Gotham) discovering secrets. The cast seems diverse yet
remains stereotypical, with a light skinned, more European looking
black woman having the white hero romance while the more African
featured villain is the scary black woman put in her place by an evil
white man superior. The mystical negro boss is sacrificed over a
white man's mistake, and there's a hip, wild haired tech chick, too.
They want evidence but never take pictures with their phones? A
reporter doesn't write about it all until after the fact? Bitch,
anonymously blog that shit! Ominous “They know that we know that
they know that we know” glares reiterate what just happened –
even though each scene only lasts a few minutes – and ham-fisted
cult begat show attempts at shock and sensationalized meta unravel
instead of reveal. Abandonment and abuses are very anticlimactic, and
one person's long lost secret is a Google search away to another.
Motivations change with each derailed pursuit, and derivative
storytelling compromises would be possibilities in favor of a
household boob tube brainwashing theory. What is this, Batman
Forever?
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