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.

Questionable Millennial Horrors

Questionable Millennial Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

These split decision frights from recent decades collapse under could have been good potential and pedestrian try hards – perfect examples of the ho hum, missing the mark horror run rampant in the early millennium. 

 

All Soul's Day – Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator), Danny Trejo (Machete), and David Keith (Firestarter) anchor this 2005 Dia de los Muertos opening with Victorian looting, Mexico locales, immortal trickery, and human sacrifices. Ritual bones and mortar and pestle powders accent the church bells, graveyards, whispering old ladies, and Spanish references. Of course, the chanting shakes look more laughably orgasmic than frightful, and silly opening credits with bombastic music promise an epic instead of low budget horror. Fortunately, a colorful terracotta palette fittingly contrasts the mid-century teal as classic cars bring a Beaver family vacation with of the time errs – they're appalled these people don't speak English but they're going to learn Mexican and bribe the policía because that's how they do it here. This period dialogue, bullet bras, and boobs to match are off to a unique Victorian meets fifties horror start. However, the story reboots with contemporary on the road yuppies whom the sheriff warns of crazy stuff beginning on November 1 – such as car accidents, naked painted chicks in coffins, and cut out tongues. These xenophobic jerks insult every cultural aspect with unnecessary cursing, oral sex jokes, or movie references, leaving the script over-reliant on quips and clichés. All their movie knowledge yet no one recognizes the zombies? The bimbo who repeats everything isn't funny, and they debate about staying in their hotel after eating bones in the bread! Trite strobe visuals, pathetic sex scenes, and typical white guy with a gun mistakes dumb down the sinister masks, costumes, and siege attacks against zombies both shuffling and inexplicably swift, undead ninjas. The possibility of past guests descending into zombie chaos is more interesting, and off-putting racist jokes or stupid people suddenly becoming smart fighters don't make the audience care. The mature cast is wasted in favor of standard kid yarns while Aztec motifs, horror dioramas, and flashback explanations are traded for compromising lulls in the action. This modern encounter should have been a coda on the renewed ritual rather than the main story, and the dude who runs to the car's passenger side when he cold have gotten in the backseat driver door deserves to get eaten by zombies! Instead of embracing the not-Halloween atmosphere, contrivances, punchlines, and American attitude hinder the nasty good stuff. One has to ignore the unrealized promises or be able to laugh at everything as parody to fully enjoy this one.

Room 6 – Frightful Hospital nightmares of masked surgeons and aware as the scalpel cuts but immobilized patients open this 2006 in limbo experience starring schoolteacher Christine Taylor (Hey, Dude! people, Hey, Dude!), creepy kid Chloe Grace Moretz (Let Me In), and the mysterious Jerry O'Connell (Sliders). Our couple has moved in together but rushed proposals and reluctant answers escalate to car accidents with realistic shocks, injuries, and intensity. Retro taxis, old fashioned nurses uniforms, and a sickly green surreal add to the unfamiliar hospital fears and confusion aftermath. Overhead or looking up from the operating table camera angles increase the bizarre afoot – lots of blood needs to be drawn and disappearing patients aren't sure how they got there or why they are being treated. Resorting to pay phones or phone booths and avoiding suspicious bums increase the uneasy unknown as the accident survivors look for missing victims. Everyone seems to know their names and histories while freaky voice messages and blood splatter create disturbia. Unfortunately, from boo visions, dream splices, and false wake ups to rapid fire images, phantom bloody faces, and cryptic child warnings – a lot of unnecessary clutters the already weird, which world is real, obvious purgatory tone. Less is more, even if it means ditching the naughty naked nurses and interesting levitating demon church battles that should have happened much sooner if they were critical to the plot. A lack of modern technology leaves the research to an old lady in a dusty archive telling stories of fiery devil worship that should have been seen and not told in cliché explanations complete with background thunder and lightning. The ensemble struggles as the contrived connections, suspect characters, and required twists get silly, and the disjointed nature of the onscreen reality does not excuse the disjointedness in the film. While clearly about the titular past reconciliations, the finale strays with zombies, ridiculous flickering lights, and a nonsensical, realm mixing maze akin to a hospital themed house haunt. There are some quality, entertaining moments here, and this isn't as bad as I thought it would be – but the big reset button mood is no secret and this never cashes in on any of the potential intrigue.

Shackled – Very slow fading in and out credits spliced with rituals, black robes, and silver goblets open this 2010 Irish release. Misty beaches, crashing waves, and funerals add bleak mood, however amateur lighting and cinematography compromise the could be atmospheric visuals. A lamp without the shade would have illumed preposterously shadowed interiors – moments so dark the screen may as well be black – and not shooting cross coverage with a window on one side would have been tremendous. Isn't it standard knowledge to not shoot in front of a natural glare? While the accents will be tough to some, half the time viewers are missing what is said simply because our eyes need to repeatedly adjust to every dim or bright aside. Likewise, the acting is poor, with some players struggling over the family drama while others pretend at a crime thriller mumbling in a wannabe The Godfather. Though home invasion attacks contribute to the something suspicious afoot murder mystery, the shocks are confusing with too many lookalike men. Who is helping? Who is interfering? There's precious little time in these eighty-two minutes yet the muddled story is slow to get rolling with hokey dream sequences providing the requisite low budget strobe. While good, chanting and creepy masks can't save poor effects and attempted stylish but nonsensical, wasteful scenes that will be too unpolished for modern audiences accustomed to digital perfection. Fortunately, further dreams give more pieces to the puzzle alongside journals and reading aloud information filling in the blanks on this spooky mansion, asylum secrets, and hidden upbringing. The twists are interesting when they do come with shady characters, dead patients, creepy caretakers, cult abductions, and recreated rituals. I've seen worse, but ultimately, the confusion undoes the good shootouts and tense rescues. Between more vendetta mob plotting, paranormal pursuits, and the raw filmmaking, this picture never decides what it wants to be – and it could have been a freaky good if not scary story.

Thirst – Talk about a Y2K throwback! Lacey Chabert (Party of Five), Mercedes McNab (Buffy), and Brandon Quinn (Big Wolf on Campus) take their desert photoshoot elsewhere because “Death Valley has been done to death” and end up stranded in this 2010 parable. The dumb yuppies trespassing in an unforgiving locale premise has a seventies feeling, and the beautifully rustic scenery contrasts the prior poolside fun while bizarre dreams add pops of color to the fine sea of beige cinematography. This tale also stays mostly in one place with only a handful of characters facing survival adversity – car accidents, sans cell phone service, and no food but a can of mints. Sadly, lame dialogue, Valley speak or dude slang, and convenient morning sickness turn the plot into OMG! Unprepared and Unable to Save Themselves Millennials can't call 911! Viewers have time to know the characters, but they all have unlikable, dry personalities. Despite the onscreen countdown and bleak passage of time, dated pop music and obligatory driving montages don't help the odd pacing – by Day Two folks are debating a course of action, dying, and arguing about who is being more melodramatic or petty by not sharing the water bottle. Others slow sequences, however, are dense with hollow despair, as when reluctance to pee in the empty bottle is really a guy's hidden fear about his wife being the doctor breadwinner. Everybody's playing Survivorman yet they all get the science wrong and never attempt the obvious like larger signal fires, utilizing the crashed vehicle, or making any use of their cameras or filming gear. Injuries create false procedural tension ala Emergency! and our medical student is drilling holes into the skull while checking her textbook, no big. Although she's stuck in flip flops for the long walk, Lacey's somewhat symbolically named Noelle becomes a survival know it all who doesn't tell the macho guys drinking the snake's blood that they can cook it, eat it, and you know, not starve. By Day Four they drink their own urine – a dastardly twist complete with guitar strings crescendos as if this is the worst thing that has happened dun dun dun. A wild, implausible finale twist never capitalizes on the suggested wolf mysticism, leaving intriguing potential as a nothing more than a red herring in a script lacking the necessary psychological chill. This could have been more entertaining with sensible, worth rooting for adults able survive rather than one obnoxious mistake after another. Thanks to the too cool for school cast, we're always aware this is just hipsters in a horror movie – which works if you view this as a tour de force lampoon: cue “dramatic guitar instrumental” yes girl, stumble, crawl!

Cults and Religious Frights!

Cults and Religious Frights!

By Kristin Battestella

Rural or international, old school, medieval, or modern – these tales of good versus evil, devils, voodoo, and cults provide enough unique horrors and spiritual frights. 

 The Church – Three films claim to be Demons 3 in the somewhat confusing Italian Demoni series. Fortunately, this 1989 Dario Argento produced stand alone sequel opens with galloping knights versus witches, scary organ music, demonic signs, prophecy, torches, and head chopping slaughter. So what if it is kind of small scale, the helmets look like spray painted buckets, and kids literally have baskets on their heads! Crosses, stonework, church bells, Gothic spires, and gargoyles bring the medieval ecclesiastic yet sinister atmosphere to the modern day prayers, Biblical quotes, maze-like catacombs, and dusty library tomes. The titular temple was built to sanctify mass burials and keep evil caged below, and the tale sticks almost exclusively to the sanctuary setting as Indiana Jones temptations for buried treasure lead to coded parchments, architectural clues, suspicious altar sounds, and ghostly horses. A crusty old bishop, the new librarian reading backwards Latin, an art restorer cleaning morbid murals, the rebellious custodian's daughter – innuendo, icky saucy, and nasty behaviors increase as evil seeps out over this interesting variety of trapped people also including a school trip, one bickering old couple, and a couture photo shoot. Even dripping water becomes suspect once the bloody spouts, blue smoke, booby traps, gruesome deaths, and reptilian hands spread evil manifestations and infestations. Frightening confessions, decaying bodily possessions, literal bleeding hearts – today's audiences may not appreciate the slow burn one by one, but knowing it is just a matter of when adds to the robes, stained glass, rituals, and chanting. How can one fight the bestial Satan when he's entered the hallowed itself? Although the past and present connections can be confusing and remain unexplained beyond a happened before and will again warning, the skeletons, gory bodies, wings, and horns make for a very wild finale. This picture is not shy with its imagery nor its parallels – the demons only escape because human corruption was already there, using unleashed horrors to remind us that it's safer to leave well enough alone. 

 

Sacrifice – Radha Mitchell (Pitch Black), Rupert Graves (Sherlock), and David Robb (Downton Abbey) star in this 2016 adaptation of Sharon Bolton's novel beginning with brisk New York pregnancy emergencies before moving to Scotland's great mountains, rocky coasts, and end of the world island isolation for an adoption. Standing stones, jokes about mistaking “runes” for “ruins”, and talk of Druids, Normans, and ritual sacrifice pepper the scene setting job interviews, hospital tours, and dinner with the wealthy, well-connected, but secretive in-laws. A dead animal on the property reveals a buried body, and our lady obstetrician butts into the police investigation of this bog discovery, studying creepy photos and x-rays of the corpse to suggest the victim had recently given birth before her insides were excised. Quality science, Tollund Man references, and flood clues jar against trow myths, unique folklore, and inscription evidence. The authorities don't want to hear any of that old sacrificial talk, but these mothers and lady cops are intelligent women talking about history and murder rather than men or gossip. While the well-paced, multilayered investigations may build the spooky versus facts with suspicions and tense cloak and dagger, this is not an overt horror picture. The story here feels caught in the middle when it should have been either a straight crime drama or gone with all out fantastics. There are some plot confusions as well – who is who and all the details aren't totally clear, leaving an abrupt end with serious unanswered questions. Fortunately, surveillance, shadows, chases in the dark office at night, and lights going out add suspense. Late wives, a clinic full of pregnant but anonymous women – who doesn't want this medical mystery solved and why? This is a small island, and not being in on its secrets can prove fatal with dangerous bridges or fiery car accidents. Body switches, clandestine interviews, identifying tattoos, hidden passages, and bagpipes tossed in for good measure seemingly tidy the case, and a likable, mature cast anchors the maternal fears and cult demands of this unique little thriller.

Voodoo Moon – Charisma Carpenter (Angel), Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator), Dee Wallace (The Howling), and John Amos (Good Times) anchor this 2006 blend of voodoo motifs and Biblical parallels with crows, skulls, casting stones, flooded steeples, rusty sickles, and naked chicks strung up on crosses. Yowzah! Evil shoehorns itself into a decaying body where it doesn't really fit or belong, and mausoleums add a whiff of New Orleans macabre alongside a few flayings alive and backwoods Tennessee mood. Tested faith, psychic connections, and prophetic drawings escalate as this team of multi-faith mystics with varying gifts come together against possessed priests and a devil in their midst. Some flashbacks and character backstories are hokey, but the better seen than told addresses the absurdity of “some psychic holy war against the devil.” An old bed and breakfast sanctuary sheltering the fun and likable cast also makes up for the lame, trying to be suave villain – most of the time here is spent with the people battling such evil elements rather than spectacle wham bam. Granted, when we do have them the fire and lightning effects are meh; the music is over the top, zombie henchman are confusing, loud effects are bemusingly bad, and weak humor or evil exposition get corny fast. There are silly floating in the air battles, unused underwater possibilities, unnecessary people, and unexplained powers – how does the good guy have all the same powers as the bad guy? This introductory, at times light or blasé feeling over the decidedly dark themes and supernatural character focus with potential for more seems almost like a backdoor pilot, which could have been an interesting series. I wasn't expecting much and the title is misleading, however, the audience gets invested in the fight fast. We care about the people in this avenging religious battle and want to see them through their demons both real and fantastic.

Split Call

Children of the Corn 666: Isaac's Return – Black silhouettes and orange sunsets open this 1999 sixth installment branching from the original Stephen King source with Stacy Keach (Prison Break), Nancy Allen (Robocop), and an adoptee born on Halloween returning to her Gatlin birthplace. Despite car accidents, bizarre police, warnings to leave, and a Bible toting hitchhiker quoting Hannah name origins and Samuel prophecies, the snooping about town goes on undeterred with snotty hoteliers, creepy hospital machines, and road rage chases. Unfortunately, slow motion, obnoxious music, and town in on it scares meander in the first half with dusty scenery and corn mazes cluttering the plot holes rather than setting the rural mood. Poor bookend narrations don't help the pointless filler, nonsensical moments, and padding on the standard new person in town sacrifice/pregnancy we know to come. Although the teen rule is juvenile by design, dated millennial looks, hip lingo, a lame sex scene, and fake shocks are DOA – dead birds and bloody writings don't add spooky atmosphere but delay the inevitable with silly visions and laughable visuals. The golden patina looks like October, but the palette is often too dark to see the crazy patients and ward action. Creative or vengeful deaths don't get anywhere until the finale, and the adult characters deserved more. The ties to the initial film, however, remain interesting. The devout waiting for Isaac to rise from his coma and these children of the children plots should have happened sooner in the series, as now the audience is left scratching our heads wondering how and when a comatose boy had the time to get busy. The hospital horrors, insemination fears, and outdoor rituals come too late to correct the connections to the first film, leaving this a predictable, messy not scary tale in need of a watertight rewrite. Everyone has Children of the Corn movie they prefer or loathe – mine is the bad glory of Urban Harvest – yet each entry feels pretty interchangeable. This leg is good in a fall marathon of the series when the details are fresh in your mind, but one also has to let logical thought go to have fun here. 

 

Recent Horror Pros and Cons 2

Recent Horror Pros and Cons Round Two!

by Kristin Battestella

Well, say hey! Here's another debate on the mostly good, kind of bad, and disappointingly ugly thanks to this quartet of modern horror movies. 

 

Altar – Olivia Williams (Dollhouse) and Matthew Modine (Memphis Belle) renovate a spooky, desolate estate on the English Moors in this 2014 Kickstarter scary full of fog, muted black and white style, and crisp, chilly moods. This family isn't feeling the “no signal” under construction living for the sake of mom's work, and Modine looks appropriately Vincent Price-esque as her increasingly tense, creepy, and obsessive American artist husband. Williams' Mrs. is in over her head before the scares begin, and though she explores, uncovers hidden doors, and takes pictures, Meg isn't seen doing much actual renovation and this design premise feels unnecessary along with a son who only appears as required by the plot. She also disbelieves their daughter by trying to be down with the hip lingo, deflecting by watching a movie on the iPad, and not wanting tweets about ghosts or dissing of her work reputation online despite her own suspicions. Rather than being a strong, proactive wife and mother, Meg takes a lot of crap from her husband and ends up in need of rescue because she ignores the obligatory superstitious handyman, her own internet research, and the local ghost whisperer. Distorted camera work and spinning panoramas are unnecessary as well, interfering with the innate, ghostly fears and appropriately askew one on one strangers. Seemingly innocent cuts, drops of blood, eerie apparitions, bones cracking, disembodied phones ringing, bugs, and coming alive walls do enough atmosphere building over the 95 minutes, and a one sentence history makes things bemusingly self aware: this bad happened, that bad happened, place should be torn down, fin. Granted, this isn't anything new and not a whole lot actually happens, but the seventies haunted house movie feeling and overall creepy tone provide a well paced burn to counter the usual horror contrivances like separated family members, lookalike ghosts, and going back into the house because you forgot your car keys – although the asthmatic teen has her cell phone but not her inhaler, talk about priorities! The repeating past events and titular rituals will be expected by wise horror audiences, and some of those haunting details should have been clarified, faults I again suspect are due to having a one in the same writer and director. I feel like I've said a lot of negatives yet this one was better than I expected thanks to its not reaching with sex and gore or a trying to be something its not pretentiousness. There's some same old, same old, but the time remains a pleasing escalation of ghostly possessions.

Dark House – Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator) and Diane Salinger (Carnivale) anchor this laughable but creepy 85 minutes from 2010. Of course, the opening bloody stuffed animal titles and the long ass end credits pad what is actually a shorter runtime full of some bad acting and yuppie drama class millennial cliches – the ex-jock, a slut, the goth, and a token black guy. Shouting numerous curses is annoying not telling, the tech talk is already dated, and system critical virus visuals and CGI graphics are stinky, not to mention convenient when literal ghosts enter the machine. This a dimly lit, congested picture peppered with pointless jokes about unwanted lesbian advances, and the whoosh sounds accompanying flashback snippets are equally unnecessary. In your face gags are too Halloween attraction boo while the bad screamers aimlessly bumble from one trick to the next, splitting up for the attic or the basement, so wise. Just say no to that $300 a day horror movie actors within a horror movie haunt! Fortunately, Combs adds some much needed flair, and the eerie makeup, bemusing gore, and hammy zooms match his over the top haunted house holograms and fantastic mechanisms. Little girls, dead orphans, and a traumatizing garbage disposal add to the nightmares, therapy, pill taking, and facing fears, too. Apparently, the computerized research montage has now progressed to clicking through picture slideshows and watching news videos, because we all Google our past horror traumas to prepare for reliving that scary, sure. Although too many characters are needed to up the body count, the fun fakery sets up the humorous ease before the ghost scares increase, and our protagonists move along without knowing which deaths are real or part of the haunt design. Unchecked writer and director Darin Scott (Tales from the Hood) does unimaginatively play into every slasher movie expectation, including a tacked on finale switcharoo, and sophisticated horror fans expecting more will tune out long before a seriously goofy last image. However, if you can go with the fun and have a good laugh at it, this one isn't so bad.

Split Decision

Creep – I stumbled upon this 2014 thriller on Netflix before knowing it was found footage horror, which is admittedly not my favorite sub genre. The premise here is also weak – a cameraman who doesn't know he is in a horror movie answers a mysterious job offer to film for $1,000 a day at an isolated mountain cabin, why not. The trite drive up is videoed just so we can see our protagonist and herky jerky to and fro camera walking wastes precious time with transitions and travel. Too many scenes exists purely to build up annoying jump scares, and constantly changing locations undo the lone stalker atmosphere. First we are in the cabin, then hiking unprepared into the woods, then back in suburbia where the police laugh at the crimes because you've failed to show them all your ^%$#$# video evidence. Pick one entrapment and let it simmer rather than the pedestrian mobility of the camera. The obviously faux cancer video documentation scenes go on too long, becoming more awkward than endearing with bathtubs and wolf mask weirdness. That innate discomfort and titular feeling may be the point, however the creepy moments are left hanging and never built upon while the foreshadowing gives away everything. It's tough to focus on the obsessive sociopathy because the male on male stalker fears have a whiff too much latent homophobia. Attempts at humor or satire and self aware sympathy fall flat, missing the mark by fulfilling all the cliches. It takes 15 minutes for the barely there action to happen – trying to be dramatic confessions drag, gaining no traction as those aforementioned locations reset the scares. This should have stayed a taut short instead of a by the seat of the pants 77 minutes. Interestingly, the camera goes dark for audio revelations or silent for visual elevation, but the unique filming is undone by obvious editing and uneven pacing. Spooky phone calls add more confusion than suspicion, and nasty sexuality is just uncomfortable rather than risque. This attempted avante garde is too disjointed on top of stupid people being predictable, and the finale would be ironic except this kind of cynicism is commonplace today. A third perspective separate from collaborators Mark Duplass (The League) and Patrick Brice (The Overnight) or perhaps just traditional film making would have reined in the anchorless writing, trimmed the superfluous, and hit home the ominous potential here.

One to Skip

The Woman in Black 2: Angel of Death – Blitz fears, raid sirens, and traumatized bombers open this 2014 Hammer sequel as teachers and orphans flee to the dilapidated, isolated Eel Marsh House – setting of the fine Victorian gothic of the first film. Oddly, the CGI London destruction lacks oomph, and the over saturated coloring is too dang dark. The mists and marsh fog can't build atmosphere if we can't see anything! The sounds here are also so quiet, the audience wouldn't know anything ghostly was afoot if not for the informative closed captioning. The supernatural setting alongside real wartime horrible is interesting enough, and Helen McCrory (Penny Dreadful) is appropriately kind but stern in her war at home refusal to break. The ladies look the period part, however Phoebe Fox (Switch) needs seasoning and unnecessary pilot Jeremy Irvine (War Horse) is too chiseled and modern pretty. More throwaway stock characters, youth cliches, sepia tone strobe visions, eerie basements, contemporary jump scare editing, and shoddy reiterations of what we saw in first movie all make for too many modern horror tropes hindering what's supposed to be a simmering period piece. Handwritten notes would add old fashioned flavor, but the camera never stays still on the dang paper long enough to read anything – not to mention today's non-cursive versed viewers can't read it anyway even if we weren't already blinking and missing the hectic visuals. Double talk ghost semantics never let the audience get personally invested despite creepy dolls, dusty antiques, and flickering lanterns creating macabre mood. It's tough to compare thanks to the changed setting and while I enjoy the notion of the franchise moving the titular vengeance through unique times, this should have either been an unrelated release or placed closer to the prior film – perhaps World War I or the Influenza epidemic. You can't strive for a sunny London finale when you are still in 19fricking42! Calling this a sequel both puts off viewers thinking they need to see the first – you don't – and belies audiences seeking a continuation of its predecessor. I'm probably being nicer than I should be because I like the setting and the idea, but unfortunately, the un-scary cop out ending and opportunity turned run of the mill undoes any good here.

Recent Horror Pros and Cons

Recent Horror Pros and Cons

by Kristin Battestella

Sometimes new and unique independent horror rises up and surprises you with its impressiveness, and other times the scary intrigue leaves you wondering what could have been. Here's a recent horror quartet with some varying degrees of success – from thought provoking interest and clichés made fine to rehashing redundancy and mishmashed missed opportunity. 

 

The Babadook – Up close screams, distorted past accidents, bad dreams, and checking under the bed make sleep uneasy for mother and child in this 2014 Australian thinking person's horror. Kid gadgets, magic tricks, a locked basement filled with memento mori, and the wonderfully freaky eponymous but anonymous book have us believing in gruesome children's stories once again as the pop up contents become a bit too interactive. Forget school and social pressure, a boy has to defend himself and his mom against those monsters! The youthful fears, wise for his age, and natural innocence are immediately endearing, as is the much lauded Essie Davis (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries) as our kind, relatable, working widow. Her life has been difficult, lonely, and getting worse– a scared kid climbing into bed all the time ruins the 'me' time, doesn't it? Paging Doctor Freud! Close cut, intimate editing builds suspense, keeping the pent up, internal focus as the child's play turns dangerous. Instead of desensitizing thrills, we feel the real life fears as the seemingly supernatural blends with seven years of escalating grief. Family abnormalities, paranormal possibilities that psychiatry can't handle, monsters that manifest on such daily traumas – is our pair too attached to each other in this battle or fighting alone? Where is the line between evil possessions and their own warped reality? Dark corners and a depressing, monochromatic home allow for unseen horrors to brew and fester over the 94 minutes alongside a progressively unkempt style, insomnia haze, here or not there bugs, overnight gaps in time, and floating under the covers apparitions. A lack of sisterly help, snickering police, and truant officers accent the late night television parallels, further blurring the lines between monsters and actuality. In the absence of empty shock moments, immediate adrenaline, and jump scare spectacles, the scary sounds and shadows simmer. Some viewers may predict the dog worries and a bit of the tables turning, but the intense times and maternal power use horror to say what can't be said and create discussion as good scares should. Female-centric horror not done for the titillation, who knew?

Would You Rather – When Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator) says he can make your sick brother better if you win a dinner party game, run people, run! The intercut interview slash opening credits of this 2012 dare-fest inexplicably lengthen exposition that was cleverly shortened, making for a redundant, overly ominous start – we know they are in a horror movie more scary than Clue even if they don't. Unnecessary flashback snips and more jarring editing stilts a first half hour that keeps explaining the game before finally providing some electrocutions, gunplay, whips, and ice picks. Forcing a vegetarian to eat meats or a recovered alcoholic to drink scotch is only the beginning of the discomforting desperation and morals versus money at stake, and Brittany Snow (Pitch Perfect) is believably mature as a twenty something fallen onto tough family times. John Heard (Home Alone) and June Squibb (Nebraska) add fine elder pleas, and unlike other recent torture porn trends, upscale interiors and sophisticated dread accent the titular question. This isn't dumbed down to a teen party boobs and gore fest, yet cliché character expositions linger alongside some stupid actions, a few loose ends, and one trite prick. Our game players must ally and do no harm or comply and compete. None apologize for playing, however, and that depravity hampers some of the entertainment value. After all, people really get off on this kind of pain – look at that dumb and dangerous Kylie Jenner lips dare – and longtime horror viewers will find the unexplained, gruesome generosity predictable. Thankfully, the built in ticking clock and process of elimination keep the smartly congested parlor panache moving, and the crafty cynicism carries through to the end.

Polite Split Decisions

As Above So Below – The disorienting, chaotic start to this 2014 found footage tale compromises the danger of all its tunnels, statues, catacombs, and artifacts because we can't see much less appreciate them thanks to the sideways camera or off and on flashlights. Young and reckless Perdita Weeks (Lost in Austen) rattles off her credentials and always assures the documentary is paramount while risking harm to others. She heeds no warnings, argues with the more experienced, and audaciously accuses others while she destroys priceless discoveries for her own transformative gain. Instead of Dante food for thought, the wrongfully determined, spelunking hipster plot comes off ala National Treasure – complete with a first clue action start, a break in to inspect the back of a marker, begrudging allies who only want gold, going underground via a tomb, and following historical riddles through one hidden chamber after another. Our cameraman is also a wise cracking, injury prone, token black guy whom we hardly see. His future bodes so well! And hey, there's no cell phone service underground, obviously. Parisians inexplicably speaking English instead French, obligatory claustrophobia, Indiana Jones rats and knights, and random cult worshipers add to the borrowed contrivances, and it's tough to make the cliches and busy footage both work due to the increasing demands on our suspension of disbelief. The finest parts here are when the camera remains still with one person in panic. Creepy old phones and broken pianos below add to the dread and maze like inability to escape, creating enough forlorn without the gimmicks. Real cave interiors add to the Egyptian booby traps, however the jump scares, supernatural hell horrors, and a much too much rushed finale abandon the established rules. Was all the metaphysical worth it? Are we supposed to be glad that one got the rectification she desired at the expense of others? This is entertaining for viewers who fall for the frights in the Halloween fun house, but despite attempts at literary and historical allusions, longtime horror audiences and wise cinema fans will see everything coming.

Deliver Us from Evil – Hectic explosions, desert warfare, and soldiers discovering an ancient tomb get this 2014 supernatural thriller off to a rocky start before more random restarts further delay the actual horror. Important snippets given early are better reiterated later, making this opening a redundant fifteen minutes that could have been cut. A creepy nighttime power outage at the zoo and a spooky house where candles won't burn reset the chilling mood, but ridiculously weapon happy, trumped up macho, backwards hat wearing cops who look more like ball players chomping on chewing tobacco make us feel like we're in the wrong movie again. The cinematic realism is also styled like a cop show, which would be fine except the nighttime seedy and flashlight lighting is too damn dark to see anything. An annoying score also ruins the viewer immersion, as does convenient, all seeing HD surveillance footage and easy smartphone cameras with on hand evidence – not to mention there is never any back up or proper police procedure. Though not miscast per se, what kind of Australian doing Bronx Italian accent is Erica Bana (Troy) trying? Please don't. And Joel McHale? Of The Soup? As a bad ass cop in a horror movie?! Fortunately, The Doors' music signifying gateways to hell is much more fun, and Sean Harris (The Borgias) is always a delightfully gruesome creeper. Too many genres are combined and condensed here, making the balance and pacing uneven, and the potential for digging deeper motivation in the intriguing one on one dialogue and good versus evil debate remains superficial as a result. Tighter editing would have stopped the meandering, but this might have been better as a longer serial where time could be taken for the Iraq fallout, our guilt ridden ex-faithful cop with terrorized family tropes, and the buddy sergeant meets noble padre religious investigations. Is this all just too many clichés tossed at the screen? There's a great exorcism before a somewhat limp finale, but cops and a priest battling possessed veterans with devilish clues from Jim Morrison? If you don't expect much from the mixed vision, this may actually be crazy enough to see through to the end. 

 

Now for More 80s Horror!

And Now More 80s Horror!

By Kristin Battestella

From Lovecraft, monsters, and mad science to slashers, ghosts, and the undead, those glorious eighties had a horrorific good time!

Blood Tide – James Earl Jones (The Great White Hope), Jose Ferrer (Cyrano de Bergerac), Martin Cove (Karate Kid), Lila Kedrova (Zorba the Greek) and plenty of pretty thanks to Deborah Shelton (Dallas), Lydia Cornell (Too Close for Comfort), and Mary Louise Weller (Animal House) keep this 1982 hour and twenty full of Lovecraftian low budget foreign flair, Greek superstitions, and island terror interesting. The opening prologue lays out the virgin sacrifice, nudity, beastly symbolism, and whiff of kinky to come, but the video print is subpar, drab, and too dark to see what’s happening – making for some viewer confusion along with the steady plot holes. Some characters and motivations also simply go unexplained, and Jones’ random Shakespearean dialogue is tough to understand in some scenes. Although there are interesting dialogue references to actor Paul Robeson and Othello, ironic considering the bitter history between Robeson and Ferrer. Unfortunately, iffy, dated music and too many muddled conversations establish nothing and keep the pace here too slow – get moving on the ancient tribal sacrifice, religion, and beasts!  Once the deaths hit the water, things proceed quickly for the finale, but the monster is hokey and you really need to like bad, sleepy horror to get thru this one. Actually, if you ixnay the potential teens and spring break island sex romp standard of today, I’d like to see a stylized remake of this with another worthy, Oscar alum cast. 

Creepshow 2 – The lengthy animated opening and frame story for this 1987 anthology sequel feels somewhat out of place and dampens the suspense of George Romero’s writing polish on these Stephen King tales, yet the beginning fifties-esque pleasantries of the “Old Chief Wood’nhead” first tale make for a fine down on its luck, eerie western. George Kennedy (Cool Hand Luke) and Dorothy Lamour (Road to Bali) add a delightful charm to this tense blend of Navajo mysticism, hooligans, and quality revenge. While the ending feels a little rushed and the dated backwoods styles might be amusing or annoying to some, the mannequin effects are surprisingly well done.  Story Two “The Raft” also offers plenty of dated eighties pot and college motifs with a hint of nudity and stupidity for good measure. People in horror movies never get away when they have the chance! Despite the unexplained killer oil slick and weak globular effects, there’s plenty of suspense here. The final tale “The Hitchhiker” starts with some saucy but leads to crazy, never say die, car chases and pursuits with a touch of humor and an ironic end. Again, the stories and the framing plot don’t exactly tie together, but there’s enough eerie entertainment here to marathon with the original Creepshow.

Dominique is Dead – An intriguing cast – including Jean Simmons (Guys and Dolls), Cliff Robertson (Charly), Jenny Agutter (Logan’s Run), and Simon Ward (The Tudors) – raises this 1980 ghost tale above its somewhat slow, quiet, uneven, and unpolished parts. Yes, there are too many shades of Gaslight and Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte, but the in media res ghost talk happens quickly, creating an off kilter feeling. Is this supernatural, tawdry, crazy, or something else?  The classical scoring, old-fashioned décor and style, and a certain classy candlelight and mood lighting carry a layer of spooky amid the dinner parties, too. Surreal red and blue photography, disappearing and reappearing objects, and creepy creaking noises and sounds add to the excellent, eerie mystery – not to mention that great house and garden scenery. The superb jump moments and scares are well done with people and built up tensions rather than relying on zany effects – we hardly have this kind of simple spooky tale these days. Of course, the seemingly unloved public domain print here is too dark at times, the voices are soft, the editing itself needed a do over, and the plot holes could sure use some clarifications. There are also one too many confusing reveals for the finale, but overall, this is a nice little atmospheric and gothic good time. 

Re-Animator – This 1985 cult favorite and mad science meets undead mash up blessedly does not look mid eighties dated. Granted there may be some primitive cat designs – which aren’t for faint feline fans – but there isn’t any so obviously of the time music, cars, fashions, or gear. The camerawork and filming is also well edited and fast paced without too many major visual effects, again helping the action to hold up today. The physical gore, nudity, bloody people, and meaty props rise to the occasion – allowing Jeffrey Combs (Deep Space Nine), Bruce Abbott (Dark Justice), Barbara Crampton (Castle Freak), and David Gale (Guyver) to focus on the Lovecraft source. The solid, creepy players are as endearing as they are freaky, and there’s a pleasant, realistic layering of villainy, reluctance, genius, rights, and wrongs as the science gone awry plot progresses. Though there are some brain versus will power leaps of faith and unrealistic, unexplained medicines, the hints of black comedy campy or dark humor parody make the talking heads and telepathic control somehow believable in the established plot. The scientific dialogue is also not the expected high tech jargon, which helps the viewer enjoy the re-animated amusements. The multiple film editions – R, Unrated, and combinations of the two – however, may annoy contemporary audiences. Fortunately, the pace moves swiftly thanks to increasingly slick and nasty perversions, and everything is brought to a head for the finale. It’s twisted, both subtle and yet over the top, and humorously so wrong in some moments, but somehow, this is still so dang fun to watch.

Do Skip

Friday the 13^th Part V: A New Beginning – This 1985 sequel starts promisingly by following John Shepherd (Thunder Run) as the grown up but traumatized Tommy Jarvis. Unfortunately, the half way house he’s in has less nutty people then the redneck crazy town nearby or the aptly named “Trailer Park” trailer park. Largely absent people create too many red herring tangents while others are introduced only to be killed or worse, unfulfillingly killed off screen. If this is Tommy’s story and we’re supposed to care about him, why is missing for most of the time? Law enforcement disappears, an inexplicably tricked out barn magically appears, and wow, there are too many endings – from the barn battle and hospital add ons to obligatory dream scares and a gotcha fade to black. The wise horror viewer can predict everything, and will shout at the television over all the unutilized vehicles, weapons, and means of escape. I do give props for the internal use of A Place in the Sun, nice boobs, and the murder mystery identity guessing game, but the dated fashions, music and bad singing, backwoods near fifties designs, and formulaic stereotypes are laughable. The Robot meets Stray Cats! Some of its crazy funny but overall, the annoying humor fuels the weak, uncreative, anonymous deaths as they come too easy and go for too many resets or cheap thrills and jump clichés. The attempt to offshoot the franchise or pass the hockey mask mantle and recapture the murder mystery of the original is an interesting concept, but by the end, you don’t blame the killer for doing what he does. Whoops. The R isn’t that hard today, and the poor mix of new killer, comedy, and slasher scares only works in a precious few memorable scenes.

Friday the 13^th Part VI: Jason Lives – New town name, camp reopened for business, same old date for this 1986 reset. Jason Voorhees is back thanks to a magical dose of lightning, but the recasting of Tommy Jarvis with actor Thom Matthews (Return of the Living Dead) confuses the Bobby in the Shower approach regarding Part V even more. Did the last film not happen? Did any of Jason’s history matter? Tommy was to be the new killer, but now he’s suddenly a mistaken good guy with an occult book? Writer and Director Tom McLoughlin’s (Sometimes They Come Back) sardonic and self-referential camp counselors fall flat, and the resurrected, undead, put him back in the water Jason takes one too many leaps of faith for the audience. Quick deaths are made of the fashion victim teenagers, along with more no name murders stringing a plot together, and too little use is made of the annoying kids in peril actually at the dang camp. There’s also a strange clumsy humor and music for some deaths – Jason’s traditional ki ki ki theme feel like it’s in the wrong places – and more bad eighties tunes don’t help. There’s only one crappy sex scene and no nudity, but the attempts at something spiritual amid the supernatural aren’t followed thru either. Wild RV accidents, camaro chases, and more substantial law enforcement plots are very nice, however, and this outing is indeed better than the previous sequels. If you like ho hum slashers, this is certainly watchable, but it still falls short of the original.