Tales from the Crypt Season Three
Stands Out
by
Kristin Battestella
During
Summer 1991, HBO's Third Season of Tales from the Crypt
delivered fourteen episodes
adapted from the Tales from the Crypt, Shock
SuspenStories, The Vault of Horror, and Haunt of Fear
comic book canon – and nearly
every half hour plot steps up the sarcasm, star power, and scares.
The
'Honey, I'm home!' opening of the “Loved to Death” premiere leads
to something saucy in the kitchen but it's just a bad script in
progress by Andrew McCarthy (Weekend at Bernie's) when he's
not fantasizing about his demanding actress neighbor Mariel Hemingway
(Lipstick). Forget the old
boombox and shoddy word processor – leather, lingerie, and boobs
inspire his creativity and a watching big brother landlord speaking
over the intercom braves him to knock on her door. Of course, she's
not interested until he's successful, making for a bemusing mix of
imagination and real world bitter from writer turned director Tom
Mankiewicz (Live and Let Die). Unfortunately,
subtle make up and costuming reflect the turnaround when a
love potion makes the amorous too much to handle. The Crypt Keeper,
meanwhile is smoking in bed with a headless skeleton as the escaped
Kyle MacLachlan (Twin Peaks) opens
“Carrion Death” with dusty Arizona manhunts, motorcycle
chases, and fiery accidents. The desert setting invokes a barren
purgatory as a vulture waits amid the echoes, gunshots, race to the
border, and loot blowing in the wind. The no water, talking to
himself delirium may seem slow for some audiences, however the
sardonic trek, gore, and just desserts escalate once the handcuffs
are on and there's no key. Back to the Future star
Michael J. Fox directs Terri Garr (Tootsie)
in “The Trap,” for her nasty husband has a life insurance
policy and a coroner brother-in-law who can help fake a death.
Bemusing morgue saws, faux dead make up, and a bumbling cover story
combine for over the top funeral wailing, cremation mishaps, and
tropical hideouts. The askew trials, double crosses, and mistaken
identity aren't really horror, but the crime fits the screw here.
Likewise, the memorable “Abra Cadaver” opens with a black and
white morgue, autopsies, pretty corpses, necrophilia quips, and
dangerous practical jokes on Beau Bridges (Stargate SG-1) by
Tony Goldwyn (Scandal). The color present has high tech lab
equipment and research debts owed for these experiments on brain
function after clinical death – studies done with ritual altars,
folk medicine, and poisoned scotch. The distorted voiceover and
overhead camera angles match this appearance of death as the acute
senses remain to experience the meat locker, hooks, saws, embalming,
and John Doe toe tags as the warped mix of science and revenge
creates blood trickling down the screen twists.
The
Crypt Keeper does a little Mashed to Pieces Theatre in “Top
Billing” as desperate Jon Lovitz (Saturday Night Love) fails
another audition. He won't stoop to commercials like successful
sellout Bruce Boxleitner (Scarecrow and Mrs. King), and this
is an interesting commentary on the look being more important than
the talent. Agent Louise Fletcher (One Flew over the Cuckoo's
Nest) says it's commerce and product, not art, that sells
tickets, winking to the viewer as oft comedian Lovitz is determined
to play Hamlet with intense director John Astin (The Addams
Family). Will he kill for the part? This little back alley
theater at 895 ½ needs a real skull for its Yorick. “The
Reluctant Vampire” also begins with a traditional gothic atmosphere
– before the alarm clock by the coffin and fang dentures on the
night stand add modern humor as blood bank nightwatchman Mr.
Longtooth Malcolm McDowell (A Clockwork Orange) dreads Mondays
and The Keeper reads Vampirism Made Easy. Manager George
Wendt's (Cheers) donation numbers don't add up, so our
sensitive vamp – who doesn't drink direct from humans so he can
respect himself in the morning – attacks an old lady's mugger to
replace his martini makings in the vault. Certainly he asks if his
victim has any blood born diseases before filling up the water
cooler. He's saving the blood bank and taking a bite out of crime
amid newspaper spinning montages, Transylvania soil myths, lighting
candles at the snap of the fingers, and dangerous squirt guns with
holy water. Van Helsing descendants are on the local talk shows, and
Tales from the Crypt manages
to be gothic and cute at the same time. Of course, Little CK
has a Betty Croaker cookbook while womanizing reporter Steven Weber
(Wings) keeps a tape recorder
under the bed to get what's off the record when, as they say, pumping
a source for information in “Mournin' Mess.” Hard nose
editor Ally Walker (Sons of Anarchy) wants the scoop not drunk
excuses, but suave spokeswoman Rita Wilson (Now and Then)
spins the rhetoric on cleaning up the streets as the homeless murders
mount. Dead witnesses and some literal cemetery digging lead to
tunnels, coffins, skeletons, and underground revelations on The
Grateful Homeless Outcasts and Unwanted Layaway Society, ahem,
GHOULS. Although this starts off run of the mill, Tales
from the Crypt continues to push
the envelope with its grotesque.
As
a kid I loved director Russell Mulcahy's (Highlander)
“Split Second” and even had it on one of several made 'em
myself Tales from the Crypt VHS
mixes! Foreman Brion James
(Blade Runner) seethes
over his sassy waitress with a reputation turned hottie wife Michelle
Johnson (Blame it on Rio) while
her short shorts and tank top get skimpier for new lumberjack Billy
Worth (The Lost Boys, you
know, the “Death by stereo.”) Axes, chainsaws, and the inherent
dangers on the job immediately hook the audience as the camera
reflects the peril, speed, and saucy games people play – leading to
new power tools, a violent comeuppance, and plenty of blood splatter.
“Deadline,” however, would see drunk newsman Richard
Jordan (Logan's Run) clean up his act for particular hooker
Marg Helgenberger (CSI). Although
the narrative bookends are unnecessary, the newsroom clickety
clack adds nostalgic pressure, and his cranky editor wants a juicy
murder headline or else. Fortunately – or unfortunately – Jon
Polito (The Crow) gives him an exclusive, ironic scoop on a
crime of passion gone awry. Tales from the Crypt's tongue
in cheek is in full swing for “Spoiled” as bored
housewife Faye Grant (V) loves
the over the top scandals of her favorite soap There's
Always Tomorrow. Her married to
his work husband's basement experiments may make medical history, but
they interrupt her fantasizing, too. Good thing 'Abel with the cable'
repairman Anthony LaPaglia (Without a Trace)
is there with all the connection in the bedroom innuendo, drafting a
bemusing life imitating art mad science mix and self-aware commentary
complete with Tales from the Crypt on
the boob tube. Like the soaps, the saucy isn't actually shown –
letting the male input and female boxes speak for themselves once the
lovers play out their part. Series producer Robert Zemeckis directs
the supersized “Yellow” finale with general Kirk Douglas
(Spartacus), his lieutenant son Eric Douglas (The Golden
Child), loyal captain Dan Aykroyd (Ghostbusters), and
gritty sergeant Lance Henriksen (Near Dark) facing
the no man's land trenches, explosions, and limbs lost of 1918
France. Battle failures, breaks in the communication line, family
expectations, and the titular cowardice risk the chain of command,
for this solider son refuses to kill and doesn't want to be killed,
undermining his father's position as the enemy nears. Panic on the
mission results in more slaughter and church held court marshals
layer the religious iconography. It's okay for fathers and sons to be
afraid to die, and one's a fool or a liar if he claims he isn't –
especially when facing the firing squad. This is a serious parable
about real fear and horrors, yet the episode is not out of place. Who
says Tales from the Crypt has
to be all cheeky all the time? Rather than the expected juicy
or sensationalism, this unique choice sells itself with innate
intensity and cruelty for one of the series' finest.
Of
course, there are several less than perfect entries sagging Tales
from the Crypt mid-season,
including the late Tobe Hopper's (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)
star studded “Dead
Wait.” The thieves are arguing over small scale island plantations
and pitiful pearl treasures, and should be tense chess conversations
fall flat amid red hair superstitions, voodoo talk, and witch doctor
suspicions. Jungle fever romance with red king takes black queen
quips and sweaty sex with voodoo drums compromise the hanging ram
heads and dead chickens in the bed – playing into the very exotical
stereotypes that the dialogue warns one to respect. Each eighties era
horror anthology series seems to have a problematic voodoo tale, but
they are always about a white man looking for something sexy and
dangerous with an obvious turnabout. The gore and creepy worms are
fine – this isn't a terrible episode, but it doesn't zing as it
should. The late night spoof with Whoopi Goldberg (Ghost) as
The Crypt Keeper's guest is more fun. Painter Tim Roth (Rob Roy)
doesn't get the showing he was promised and fantasizes about killing
his agent in “Easel Kill Ya,” but some accidental violence and
nearby deaths inspire his art. He channels his darkness into some
gruesome canvases and sells the paintings to a creepy buyer, but he
can't keep up with the killer demand for his art. Again the fatal
twists and obsessive performances aren't the worst, but this tortured
artist cum murderer plot is nothing new. “Undertaking Palor” also
has obnoxious punks at the movies complaining about being one short
in the Milk Duds box before they scare each other and capture it on
camera. They break into the mortuary to raise the frights in their
amateur film making and unfortunately discover twisted little
practitioner John Glover
(Smallville) using
a Shop Vac for his latest embalming. The ironic classical music and
Pepsi with pizza while the creepy mortician works makes for some
delightful Tales from the Crypt grossness, but the juvenile
found footage Nancy Drew mystery weakens what could have been wild
had we seen the morgue conspiracy from the inside perspective. The
Crypt Jam music video feature on the Tales from the Crypt Season Three DVD set is also a humorous little rap with babes, gore,
and highlights from the year in a fittingly oh so nineties fashion
both embarrassing and hysterical at the same time. The features also
cheat slightly by listing two panel segments, for the first fifteen
minute bonus recounting the history of EC Comics mid-century history
and their ongoing relevance in horror is just pieced together from
the second feature – which is the full half hour Comic Con
discussion with voice of the Crypt Keeper John Kassir, producer Alan
Katz, and additional crew telling more behind the scenes tales and
answering audience questions. This DVD set also goes right to the
menu without the “Kill Intro” theme playing only once per disc
as in the previous video releases, and I like being able to see that
spooky house opening per episode.
There
are less fifties abstract and colorful comic designs for this season
of Tales from the Crypt, but
the seedy dark palette feels a little more nineties grown up to match
the mayhem. Lots of familiar faces in supporting roles lend an
extra sophistication with old televisions, rabbit ears, Polaroids, or
T-n-A as icing on the cake per the humorous or grotesque plots as
needed. That newfangled frivolous cable and HBO freedom allows Tales
from the Crypt to exploit
many women with then nudity, abuse, and victimizing. However, the
series also has numerous working women in positions of power or
ladies that give back all the ills deserved and never get naked to do
so. Occasionally, the hammy over does it with stunt casting and humor
falling flat, but bigger names, chilling stories, plenty of gore,
quality production values, and heaps of ironic horror help Tales
from the Crypt step up its winking formula for Season Three for a
macabre and self referential but no less twisted good time.
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