True Horror Tales

 

True Horror Tales

by Kristin Battestella

Shocking true crimes and real world horrors come alive thanks to these demented dramas and chilling documentaries past and present.

In Her Skin – Problematic legalese made this 2009 Australian true story starring Miranda Otto (Lord of the Rings), Guy Pearce (Lockout), and Sam Neill (Dead Calm) obscure, but lovely landscapes, pretty dancing, and original songs contrast the dark skies, empty trams, and every parent's worst fear. A daughter doesn't return home, and the episodic acts focus on the parents, killer, and victim before the inevitable malevolence. The number of days since the disappearance anchors frantic phone calls and television pleas as parents stand in the street calling their daughter's name and reluctant police think it's just a runaway case. Blasé officials see these cases everyday, but emotions are high for the family facing this awful new experience. Mom turns to her own mother while dad consoles the younger siblings. Each tries to keep it together – afraid to break despite such extreme circumstances before delayed reactions, sobs, and swoons. Sensuality, nudity, love, and sex are also shown in different dynamics; the young bloom versus the ugly body dysmorphia and the tenderness between couples before revelry in the brutally suggestive strangulation, near orgasmic self loathing release, and ejaculation-like spit in the difficult to stomach crime. Panning camera work, demented voiceovers, fantasy-esque flashbacks, and windswept distortions are spooky and slightly off kilter, getting viewers inside our killer's state of mind alongside disturbing letters and violent artwork. Her devious sense of empowerment bullies the trusting innocence, consuming the sweet ballet grace and leaving the body to rot in the bathtub. A chilling calm and smiling exterior belies the angry journals and nasty outbursts as the slovenly thrives on the decay. Opportunities to improve are turned away amid suggested Electra undertones, inappropriate strip downs, and obsession from the award worthy Ruth Bradley (Humans). Rather than change the psychotic, our killer is happy in the delusion that she is wild and free with sweeping nature shots, sky motifs, and out of body overhead views reflecting her warped blossoming. She even calls the bereaved to offer support – but knows too much and speaks in the past tense. Today it's difficult for us to believe no one noticed or provided mental health intervention, and the eventual sentence is light for such a premeditated crime. Fortunately, the great performances carry the perhaps disjointed style. The sense of grief, shock, and disturbing are realistically stilted and uncomfortable. The psychological chilling and villainous portrayal are tough to watch yet this intriguing, well done drama is worth re-watching.

In Search of Darkness: A Journey into Iconic 80s Horror – This four hours plus Shudder labor of love brings together horror scholars and familiar faces including Heather Langenkamp, Alex Winter, John Carpenter, Jeffrey Combs, Joe Dante, Joe Bob Briggs, Cassandra Peterson, Keith David, and more. Retro graphics and old school cues match the nostalgic discussion alongside behind the scenes anecdotes and reflections on the shoulder pads of the MTV generation and Reaganomics priming the era for horror excess. Forty years ago, horror was bottom barrel easy to make with pre-prestige stars and low budget necessity bringing about innovative smoke and mirrors. Tent poles like Friday the 13th, The Shining, and Scanners begat an increasingly polished artistry while sub genres, slashers, and suburban scares lead to scream queens, money makers, and mainstream appeal with Nightmare on Elm Street, Poltergeist, and The Howling versus An American Werewolf in London. VHS makes films readily available for the first time before late night cable, direct to video's shrewd cover art appeal, and no spoilers to ruin Sleepaway Camp. Silence, new sounds, and electronic influences accent the practical effects gore of The Thing and Evil Dead, yet believable fears and realistic performances set off holiday horrors and ahead of their time mind or body and machine allegories. Re-Animator and Fright Night embrace the past while winking at the genre, however disappointing imitations, franchise formulaic, and 3D gimmicks struggle amid censorship and potential X ratings. Terrorizing children is a no no, but Gremlins is ripe for merchandising even as Hellraiser's slick mature and more visceral sequels make viewers uncomfortable as great horror should. Near Dark and The Lost Boys upend the vampire genre while strong women persevere – overcoming the sexual taboos, objectification, and victimization despite gratuitous nudity and teenage rites of passage. Child's Play responds to Wall Street greed and consumerism as our misfit genre grows darker by the end of the decade, fashioning cathartic, scary statements that still influence film today. This frightening legacy flows in chronological order with a fine checklist of favorites, obscure titles, and movie highlights. Unlike today's increasingly sardonic narrations and clip shows all but mocking their subjects, the variety of presenters free to talk causally without any intruding veneer is refreshing. One wonders why we ever left this kind of format for easily digestible snarky, as this straightforward celebration of scary gives loyal horror fans what they want.

The Legend of Lizzie Borden – Elizabeth Montgomery (Bewitched) brings home this 1975 television movie while carriages, church bells, and the hysterical maid set the murderous 1892 Fall River, Massachusetts scene. The video transfer looks poor with flat colors and the low budget dark interiors aren't quite what we know from the infamous pictures. However, the hats, frocks, fluttering skirts, and fanning oneself in the heat set off co-stars Fionnula Flanagan (The Others) and Katherine Helmond (Who's The Boss?). Confusion at the crime scene and cracks in the story come early – who was where and when, the maid called by the wrong name, the stepmother's body found by the bedside, one and all shocked and horrified save for Lizzie. She's so calm when asked if she killed her father, chill when the authorities arrest her amid prayers, sisterly promises, and creepy coffins. The seventies horror zooms and ominous tone may have been edgy for television of the day, but the courtroom drama balances the unreliable flashes, tonics, and nasty household suggestions. Interrogations and testimony give the timeline of events, inheritance motives, and well documented specifics while witness flashbacks recall the stern Mr. Borden, his cranky Mrs., and their insistence on cheap food and hard work – much to Lizzie's chagrin. At first, it may be tough to imagine our beloved Samantha as the alleged murderess, but her foreboding, stuck up stature works. Unsympathetic Lizzie wants to wear the latest fashions for her trial and has every comfort in her jail cell. She faints at the thought of a death by hanging sentence, vowing that she cries in private but wants the public to know via softball newspaper interviews. Lizzie delights in another's misery and browbeats her sister, a demented little princess playing into the delicate lady expectations when on the stand. She spins a different gentility with every question, polluting the facts with uncertainties as she recalls eating pears la di da when the violence apparently happened. Even the judge wonders if she were a man who was at the scene of a crime with a contradictory, revisionist alibi would there be any question of guilt? The congested relationships and tense battle of wills over dresses with no blood, burned clothing, morphine versus memory, and acid inquiries escalate toward inadmissible excuses and forensic doubts. Choice dollies, editing splices, ticking clocks, mirror reflections, warped angles, and camera distortions match the fierce slices as the finale surmises the if I did it nudity and whodunit splatter. This is well done for its day with disturbing mood and a deliciously despicable Montgomery.

Horror Westerns, Yee Haw!

Horror Westerns, Yee Haw! 🤠

By Kristin Battestella

Pioneer perils are the perfect setting for the weird, morose, scary, and macabre! Here's a trio of contemporary takes on the horror meets western genre fusion – with mixed results.

The Burrowers – Innocent proposals and Dakota Territory picnics open this 2008 parable before hiding in the root cellar, mysterious holes in the ground, and unseen terrors. Inexplicable wounds and a strange lack of blood loss leave neighbors digging multiple graves as squeamish boys must grow up and join the rescue posse. Time is taken to introduce Crow guides, Freedmen, and Irish immigrants, but the us versus them racist dynamics are felt thanks to whips, hangings, torture, and mustache twirling cavalrymen who enjoy it. Titular translations are disbelieved or misinterpreted as convenient and valuable Ute information is ignored despite rustling in the night and disappearing men. Muted, realistic colors match the subdued banter. This is not outright humor a la Tremors, for here darker prejudiced issues and rapacious fears akin to The Searchers can be more deeply addressed. The eyes of the dead are shot out to leave their spirits blind and girls buried alive have scratching sounds coming from inside their bodies as horse injuries and blood splatter make us recoil. The camera is frantic within the action and horrors, however there is time for personal pauses and reflection on the gory moments, toxins, and paralysis. Shootouts, screams in the dark, what you can't see beyond the firelight, and desperate to stay awake delirium mar the increasingly difficult journey. Creatures are afoot but who's a “redskin” friend or foe is more important to white men who killed the buffalo and now deservedly find themselves on the menu. Rather than typical panoramic monster roar reveals, brief crawling glimpses and grass level views build suspense before painful bear traps, decomposing decoys, and a slurping feast. The CGI and effects may be poor today and daylight conveniences make the finale easy, but the body horror disturbing and focus on the horror metaphors over the usual in your face creature feature approach is refreshing. Hatred is more important than a potential monster cure, and the bitter cavalry clean up blaming it all on “injuns” makes for an effective manifest destiny commentary with multi-layered mirror to nature horror.

Promising but Flawed

The Wind – Director Emma Tammi (Into the Dark) opens this 2019 feminine horror western with blood, stillborns, and shallow graves. Eponymous breezes and echoing screams match the string discord and barren landscape. Some pioneers are leaving this bleak, violent territory while others ride for supplies before the harsh winter. Scary wolves, growling, and innate perils break the mundane silence and still isolation. There's prowling at the door and our Mrs. is rushing to reload. The population grows to four when another young couple arrives – a lone flickering light in the darkness between distant cabins where the land plays tricks on you. The changing dynamics and inability to adjust lead to hiding under the bed prayers and fears that something is coming to get you thanks to dead animals, buzzing flies, and repeated knocks at the door with no one there. Symbolic water, rain, and hand washing scenes contrast reading The Mysteries of Udolpho and Frankenstein aloud as the candles blow out and the Bible buried in the grave is somehow back on the doorstep. Our new lady is pregnant and seeing things amid howling, shadows on the curtain, and precious, dwindling matches. Demons of the prairie fiction escalates to hidden diaries, illicit scandals, and unexpected ghosts as warnings not to be out after dark go unheeded. Unfortunately, the silent disjointed scenes are deliberately confusing. Why chop up your story when the tension should stand on its own shocking? Perhaps the cut away scares are meant to create disorientation, but the noticeable movie making weakens all the momentum, losing the surreal purgatory immersion and frazzled state of mind. An out of order narrative still telling something cohesive is fine, but distracting viewers with loud cues between random scene changes cheats us out of being alone with the characters because we're too busy piecing together what we already suspected at the start. Disturbing revelations, black smoke, and evil disguised as the dead descend toward jealousy and madness in excellent, uninterrupted scenes. However, the typical across the floor whooshes and ambiguous ending are frustrating and deceptive, pulling the rug out from under the audience. The frantic performance, brooding scares, and eerie atmosphere are great, but messing with the viewer via cinematic constructs dampens the taut paranoia – which should have been told organically.

You Make The Call

Dead Birds – Confederate soldiers turned bank robbers hide out in a abandoned Alabama mansion in this 2004 tale starring Henry Thomas (E.T.) and Michael Shannon (Take Shelter). Mismatched uniforms, overgrown fields, swamp misdirection, and creepy scarecrows set off the gory slices, dead bodies, shootouts, head shots, and blood splatter. Lanterns, thunderstorms, horses, creepy barns, and noises under the bed begat deformed animals among the cornstalks, skeletons in the slave quarters, and spell books for raising the dead. Pointing fingers over the gold tensions and rattling on the outhouse door frights work when we don't see anything, however creepy kids with typical blacked out eyes, roar mouths, and under the bed jump scares don't advance the slow burn meandering. Laughable women's fashions immediately draw viewers out of the 1863 disturbing, and the isolated build is laborious with multiple redundant shots and repeated lines to listen up and move on without actually doing so. Everything in the first half hour before they arrive at the manor could have been skipped, and ham fisted exposition on how this tenuous gang got together comes amid poor dialogue that's trying to sound Southern ye olde but has the wrong modern rhythm. A chilling old man ghost at the foot of the bed, voodoo dolls, the wounded being nearer to seeing spirits – there are pieces of something special here but the period fears and gold fever resort to contemporary horror by numbers. Contrived connections and disjointed strobe vignettes tell viewers about the sacrificial history rather than showing the characters really experiencing the macabre. The past terrors seem more interesting, and even at ninety minutes, this feels overlong because nothing much happens. Although late night watchable for the Southern Gothic mashups, the scares fall back on the same old same old rather than rely on the unique setting's strengths.

Want More delicious western horrors? Head over to InSession Film for our take on Ravenous and Brimstone!