Problematic 90s Women in Horror

 

Problematic 90s Women in Horror

by Kristin Battestella

The classy ladies in this suspenseful trio of nineties horror suffer from dated problems, scary disservice, and shit men. Quelle surprise.

Angel of Death – Ominous windmill blades, rattlesnakes, and perilous farm equipment lead to creepy Rumpelstiltskin sketches and 4 a.m. phone calls from Attica as ever lovely mom Jane Seymour (Live and Let Die) is terrorized by an escaped convict in this 1990 TV movie. She's frazzled before the call – over protective, fighting with neighbors, late for work. The car won't start, money's tight, her son wants a bike for his birthday, and our art professor is passed over for a promotion thanks to her competition moving in on the department chair and her ex-husband. Rather than build this story, the action goes back and forth to an obviously small scale prison riot, terribly over the top thugs, and beatings punctuated with crescendos meant to be more shocking then they really are. The obsessed escapee read her children's book and fell in love with her author photo, but a vengeful prison guard is in pursuit in a dreadful tangent when none of the prison elements need to be shown. The convict moves in next door, watches them from a shady van, and signs up to be the nude model in her art class before beating a man with a hammer while the annoyingly friendly kid knocks on his door. He's just misunderstood mixed signals negate any too good to be true suspicious as family picnics and bedtime stories lead to romantic rooftop steamy. Our pathological liar tearfully tells her his family is dead – while leaving out how he murdered them! The expedited relationship is paced for commercial television breaks and the logistical leaps are preposterous, but it's uncomfortable how it all happens so fast and that today's tech makes such stalking even easier. It's also sad that she's so desperately stupid to let a stranger so close and wonders how he appeared right when she needed someone. We should have not known he's the killer until he bludgeons the slutty rival professor with her own sculpture amid campy feigned seduction, opera music, and blowtorches. Of course misogynistic detectives suspect our innocent mom thanks to frustratingly banal contrivances, and the dated paint by numbers padded with conflicting characterizations to meet the ninety minute movie of the week format does a disservice to Seymour. Supposedly romantic red flags moved toot suite however gunshots, confessions, and kids in peril turn laughable – dragging on alongside predictable car chases, fake deaths, pitchforks, and a fiery farm finale. Those Rumpelstiltskin passages he recites back to her? LOL.

Fear – Sirens, police chatter, and pulsing Henry Mancini music (Romeo and Juliet) jump right to the chase as psychic Ally Sheedy (The Breakfast Club) remotely traces a serial killer and detectives come to the rescue thanks to her vivid details in this 1990 thriller from writer and director Rockne S. O'Bannon (Farscape). She feels the disturbing killer urges and the terror of the bound victim in the backseat, doubling the discomfort despite the success on high profile cases, book tours, and talk show appearances. Although the VHS quality print is poor, old fashioned news bulletins, big televisions, and retro phones invoke nostalgia. The onscreen interviews let the aptly named Cayce explain her telepathy, but she wants to move on from true crime and strenuous killer manuscripts in favor of her own fiction. However, when another murderer strikes she offers police her services by revealing the hitherto unknown titular calling card written in blood. Paranormal eerie, choice gore in the refrigerator, and body shocks that don't dally like today's in your face aesthetics pepper the realistic crime scenes and straightforward procedural. Solitary moments in a new house with plastic still on the furniture lull viewers into a lonely routine before the mental connections strike again. We feel her strained, overwhelmed recounting of the crime because he wants his victims to be afraid. He knows what will scare them most, realizes Cayce can see him, and telepathically croaks out her name. The restaurant ambiance at the fancy publisher's dinner fades as the unseen killer intrudes on Cayce – taking her along for a fly on the wall view as he selects his next victim. He taunts her and uses “we” amid heavy breathing, mirrored actions, screams, and terror. She is unable to break his impression, and the mind's eye seeing herself from his perspective is meta provocative. The killer is one step ahead, the camera is behind, and the victim is our point of view thanks to blue lighting, zooms, and gauze focus that lets the performances carry the pain, fear, and violence. This is an abusive relationship and he won't let her leave as decoys and airport consequences raise the suspense. The so-called Shadow Man sends her perfume, shoes, and lingerie, but rather than take control of the fearful head games herself, Cayce falls back on a neighbor cum potential boyfriend to take action. Diverse Black and Asian detectives disappear from the pursuit even after their families are threatened, and power suit but kind and seemingly in love with Cayce book agent Lauren Hutton (Once Bitten) is underutilized. Chilling who's chasing whom realizations degrade into Hall of Mirrors hackneyed and a poor physical confrontation as the last half hour loses steam. What started so well if Eyes of Laura Mars backs into a corner with anticlimactic Strangers on a Train copycatting – unable to resolve the cat and mouse with psychic strength and sophistication.

Mary Reilly – Titular maid Julia Roberts (Pretty Woman) and Jekyll and Hyde John Malkovich (Dangerous Liaisons) lead this 1996 Stevenson inspired adaptation with rain, thunder, cobblestones, and nighttime dreary setting the gothic mood. Moonlit rooftops and sharp, from the window skylines provide a whiff of German Expressionism as the master of the house stays up all night in his laboratory across the courtyard. The cramped, shabby downstairs is busy with aprons and vintage cookery while above shines with polished woodwork and silver trays. Footsteps on the staircase and screams in the night, however, suggest something afoot. Mary is squeamish over anatomy books, bloody linens, and bashing eels for dinner yet this is the safest, kindest place she has been since entering service at twelve. She lets Jekyll examine her scars and recounts an unemployed father turned drunkard who locked her in the pantry with a rat. This delicate touching and faint caressing is iffy not romantic, and we don't need to see the abusive flashbacks to realize the violent, changed man, Hyde parallels either. Implications of how nasty Mary's father was are better suggested when she cries in her sleep, but her anguish and candor with Jekyll is downplayed in favor of her characterization as a nosy, talkative maid who doesn't want the other servants to think she goes above her station. Of course, she repeatedly breaks their tedious protocols and wastes time planting a garden when there's no sunshine – a foolish girl fixating on her flaky master. Bloody brothel bed chambers after the unseen lusty Hyde nights and over the top blackmailing madame Glenn Close (Albert Nobbs) brighten the drab back and forth as Mary becomes the go between repeating the hear tell while both men toy and manipulate her in a predatory, but ultimately nothing burger love triangle. Jekyll tells her to go the Hyde, Hyde talks as if Jekyll is also present, even ordering tea for two that Jekyll cancels when Mary brings it. Despite a sympathetic score accompanying the foggy kisses with Hyde, he verbally harasses Mary complete with a “Look what you made me do” non-apology. Roberts is miscast with a poor accent and period piece plain that doesn't suit her, yet the frustrating framework must remain in her point of view even as the Clark Kent/Superman lack of recognition becomes unbelievable. She lies to the police to protect Hyde, but Mary never learns or investigates, remaining a reactive character in overlong, uncomfortable relationships leading to knife play and an anti-climatic revelation with an almost comical transformation. Laboratory jars, creepy chains, and screams as Mary is nearly caught snooping aren't suspenseful because we're always aware the real story is elsewhere. This would have been better as an original gothic piece, but the crux as is isn't enjoyable for romance audiences or horror fans.

Penny Dreadul: Season 3

Penny Dreadful Season Three a Disappointing Finale

by Kristin Battestella

I loved me some Penny Dreadful. Previously, I watched the First Two seasons twice or more before writing my reviews a few months after I had simmered in the immersion of all things sophisticated Victorian macabre. I re-watched the entire series again when finishing this obviously late review, but Season Three's still blindsiding finale and haphazard resolution of the series undermines the glorious potential that was yet to be found in Penny Dreadful.

Year Three hits the ground running with some delightful circumstances in “The Day Tennyson Died.” Our quirky little family of evil fighters – Vanessa Ives (Eva Green), Sir Malcolm Murray (Timothy Dalton), Ethan Chandler (Josh Hartnett), Victor Frankenstein (Harry Treadaway), and His Monster (Rory Kinnear) – is scattered about the globe from London to the Old West and Africa to the frozen north. Their townhouse base is shabby with covered furniture and piled mail before the titular solemn and lovely poetic references reconnect old friends with tenderness and sympathy. After all they've been through, those in London are allowed to stew and cry – unlike the unforgiving railroad and lawless land of the New Mexico Territory. Though blindingly bright compared to the British bleak, there's an underlying ominous to the witches and werewolves among the lawmen. Letters from Africa with burials made right also find Chiricahua Indians in the most unlikely Zanzibar alley while faraway frozen trawlers debate cannibalism and melodies remind monsters of when they were men. Famous names face racism at Bedlam as pale minions with anemia excuses lurk. Penny Dreadful has a lot to do but does it with superb conversations, new allies, and bloody vignettes. “Predators Far and Near” adds vintage photography, jurisdiction technicalities, a modified barber's chair for experimenting on patients, and fear of the gramophone cylinders recording one's sin. Therapy confessions recount prior indiscretions, but the prescription for godless loneliness is doing something innocent and happy no matter how small. Women debate on light and dark souls while men bond over their love of daughters and a son not birthed to them but bound with their suffering. Talbot family history, ritual chanting, and colorful vision quests counter the sophisticated Victorian science lectures and whimsical memories of adventures the likes of 20,000 Leagues under the Sea. Unfortunately, our dreadfuls are more familiar with lunatics and monsters rather than childhood heroes, with Jekyll and Hyde-esque transformations on crazed victims, deceptively charming courtships, a wise Apache woman reminiscent of the fortune teller in The Wolf Man, and a desert full moon to aide one's bone cracking escape.

Unholy alliances between witches and the Wolf of God continue in “Good and Evil Braided Be.” Is it the beast or angel, good or evil that's the real persona? Does the mind create phantoms and demons to explain the darkness and pain? Do you bury the animal inside or unleash it? Between the werewolf curse, divided locales, tug and pull father figures, and hints of Hyde, Penny Dreadful creates superb dual themes alongside several racial moments and of the time derogatory Native American comments. Sophisticated light and dark visuals and good and evil motifs are interwoven against crudeness, triumphing over those who define what's black and white or right and wrong solely based upon skin tone rather than soul. The audience isn't hit on the head with the social commentary, but one scene beautifully addresses the sadly still lingering attitudes upfront. New, risky hypnosis techniques further retrace past darkness and despair in Episode Four “A Blade of Grass.” Memories and present offices blur in a dreamy act with current doctors and familiar faces in unexpected places uncovering new revelations of a forgotten padded white room. In camera foregrounds and backgrounds accent the confined or expanded four walls as needed with overhead views, zooms, face to face close ups, and wide angle warped. Finite descriptions of precious few details, amplified sounds, and demon shadows match the kindness of an orderly or the evils that await. Precious blankets are taken away amid growling, crying, straight jackets, and water torture. Can God find you in a place like this or are you alone? Our patient fears the evil within and wants to die over the betrayals and sins committed, yet the tender bonding with her jailer turned poetic advocate provides an unlikely compassion. Whether you can face yourself in the mirror or not, these fugue state manifestations overcome evil with the truth at Christmas in one excellent parable. The least amount of effects, minimal characters, and few locales leave nothing but the emotion and anguish upon their faces. It's divine, just everything television should be and perhaps the best episode of the entire series.

And then, somehow, Penny Dreadful went to shit.

Series writer and creator John Logan hands Penny Dreadful over to new writers mid season – a maneuver suggesting a viable transition rather than leaving unknowns to resolve your planned finale with rushed characters and compressed stories. Andrew Hinderaker (Pure Genius) pens “This World Is Our Hell” with The West as a barren purgatory full of symbolic multi-layered pursuits on who the righteous should save or whom the evil would kill. Water is scarce among the grave sins and shame worn as redemption; forgiveness versus temptation comes in revealing fireside chats recounting past ambushes and the difficulty of serving multiple masters – fathers, duty, Lucifer. Unfortunately, these lofty topics are undone by nonsensical mysticism. Witches can summon snakes to conveniently wipe out pursuers but cannot heal injured mounts or conjure water and dying people somehow have enough energy for awkward evil sex after days of thirst. The Victorian mad science and desert shootouts jar in an anchor-less back and forth when the confrontations between our converging father figures are more interesting. Lengthy exposition on past horrors feels odd in a series that often shows rather than tells. Why not have an entire Talbot past hour the way “Closer than Sisters” showed us how Penny Dreadful really began? Otherwise the audience is left confused over who's really at fault for the faithful turning evil. It was Ethan's dad's fault for making it the army's fault who made the Apaches to blame??? Penny Dreadful always had pacing issues and uneven characters, but this Old West excursion could have ditched the dead weight characters and been back to London in half the time. I don't think it is necessarily Hinderaker and newcomer Krysty Wilson-Cairns' fault, but “No Beast So Fierce” throws even more at the screen with too many threads regarding who's evil or who's the law amid busy shootouts, vampire minions, Bedlam serums, how to kill a man tutorials, Egyptian wonders unrealized, and new steampunk introductions. What's supposed to be important – monsters being kind to sick children or sassy sword wielding new characters? If the key to defeating evil is holding fast to loved ones, why has our family been apart all season? Perhaps one writer should have been responsible for one set of characters the entire year, as Dracula's apparently content to wait out the cowboy adventure while other isolated and aimless immortal plans go round and round and pull Penny Dreadful apart at the seams. 

 

Penny Dreadful has an innate melancholy – cemeteries, grave digging, mourning shrouds – but the dark romance is used for unnecessary preachy in “Ebb Tide.” Separated characters finally meet, but one knock on the door and a brief scene reconciling the past and present is not enough. Friends that could fill this empty manor and fight the bloodshed are pushed away while our team in the West doesn't heed ancestral warnings. Despite insisting London is home, characters remain obstinate just for the sake of creating drama, leading to contrived betrayals and more speeches begging for the fast forward button. Touching conversations on who will bury whom are interwoven with weaker plots, straying from the core and repeating exposition we already know. Visions unite players who have been apart but such mystic conversations and wisdom on rescuing one another from darkness should have happened much sooner – two episodes ago, nobody cared. Krysty Wilson-Cairns writes the quick at forty-three minutes “Perpetual Night,” and it's the shortest episode of Penny Dreadful when the series desperately needed more time. The boys rush back to Londontown amid foggy cityscapes, morbid voiceovers, tasty frogs multiplying, and rats amok. Dead wolves and toothy minions everywhere require swift blade work and fireplace pokers to stave off vampire infections – but no one thought to call Dr. Frankenstein away from Bedlam's dungeon when people are said to be dying by the thousands? Penny Dreadful bites off more than it can chew, takes too long to achieve what matters, and spits out the excess when there's no time left. Ironically, the “The Blessed Dark” finale also delays, saving choice moments with its stars rather than going full tilt with the dream hazy, bodies on hooks, and bats as sad lullabies over the special credits recap the sad state of our separate characters. It's very exciting to see the reunions and werewolves fighting vampires in true monster mash up fashion as it should be – Dr. Jekyll passes by as Dr. Seward hypnotizes Renfield! As a season finale, this hour provides closing moments on some toiling plots. However, as a series finale, it barely resolves anything. Brief mentions on her destiny, his destiny, and previous prophecies don't make sense anymore, and Victor literally bumps into the gang at Bedlam. The team is together again by accident! Major moments with his monsters earn one scene each, and none of those super strong immortals join the End of the Days^TM battle. Instead, bad ass walking down the street filler and a few ridiculously outnumbered pistols struggle with conveniently confusing action choreography. Bitter ties to the First Season become unrealized tangents, and new characters are inexplicably more steadfast than our original crew. Four episodes ago, life was worth fighting for but now isolated characters give up because the script says they should in a one hundred and eighty degree turn that's painful to see end this way.

Vanessa Ives begins alone, a recluse living in squalor before rising thanks to words and wits with her therapist. Eva Green's heroine cleans up and humbly restores the manor. Despite losing her faith, Vanessa is inspired by Joan of Arc's confidence and says she will remain resolute. Oddly, she doesn't seem as psychic or intuitive anymore and fails to recognize evil tendencies she previously pegged so astutely. It's sad to see Vanessa open herself, revisiting innocent things that make her happy or having a man's company once again end in terror. She's willingly hypnotized to face her repressed psychiatry treatment, addressing her past doubts, regrets, and battles with Lucifer. “A Blade of Grass” shows her at rock bottom before a ray of hope and renewed prayers – if you believe in evil, then you must believe God is there to defeat it. Unfortunately, Penny Dreadful squanders the Lucifer issues, fast tracks Dracula, and circumvents Vanessa's body and soul versus the fallen brothers with a past event cheating viewers out of a current victory. Vanessa can sense and see Kaetenay when the plot says so, but her lack of psychosexual possession and failed insights inexplicably have her give up despite knowing overdue help is on the way. Green saves this sloppy writing and deserved more hardware for Penny Dreadful. I don't blame her if she recognized the tone had changed and was ready to depart. The series could have continued in searching for an evil Vanessa as an absent lead a la Blake's 7 rather than two scenes with bad girl red eye shadow trying to make up for rushing to resolve Vanessa's story. Josh Hartnett's Ethan “Lawrence Talbot” Chandler is also not only reluctant to see his real father, but he's angry at being adopted as Kaetenay's Apache son. Ethan knows there is blood on his teeth and his soul deserving of punishment and wears his guilt on his sleeve. Unfortunately, his history comes from three different sources – so for all this New Mexico excursion, we don't get a clear picture. The Wolf of God also spends about fifteen minutes being evil, standing up for Hecate over Malcolm because he won't repent and belongs in hell. Ethan speaks evil prayers at the dinner table, but isn't this the guy who's Latin single-handedly exorcised Vanessa? His reciting of the Lord's Prayer in the finale feels hollow thanks to his satanic reversal just a few episodes earlier. Was Ethan's western escapade and Vanessa's evil each meant to be it's own season storyline? They both have a scene or two of darkness, and one moment in the finale doesn't make up for Ethan's back and forth. Meanwhile, Sarah Greene as Hecate travels in white, an unassuming Gibson girl who loves horses and animals but loathes people. She wants to be evil beside Ethan, but her powers are both handy or nonsense as needed. Hecate kills unnecessary to teach him a lesson and lingers too long in this uneven capacity – crowding an already busy Penny Dreadful while not being a character in her own right. The English Sean Glider (Hornblower) may be an unusual choice as a U.S. Marshall, but his crusty ways balance the British tidiness of Douglas Hodge as Inspector Rusk as they pursue Our Mr. Talbot. Rusk may ask for tea in the bar car and insist Scotland Yard Inspectors do not carry firearms, but he doesn't underestimate the ruthless West. He begins to believe the Occult upon his case and does take up more violence as the blood on their path increases – before a thankless end, of course.

The beard is back for Timothy Dalton as Sir Malcolm, and even if he doesn't know all the details, he's ready to respect Wes Studi's (Geronimo: An American Legend) Chiricahua Kaetenay if it will help save Ethan. Like an oasis in white in the mostly unlikely place, it's wonderful when Malcolm and Ethan finally meet up for some shootout action. However, Malcolm really doesn't have a whole lot to do this season beyond listening to Kaetenay. Most of his dialogue is responsive filler, and even before the surprise series finale, I suspected Dalton would not be returning for Season Four. You don't keep a talented name without giving him quality writing, and Malcolm ends up repeating the same plot. Chasing after lost lamb Ethan, fighting a vampire to rescue Vanessa – he's again saving his family even as his travels keep him from his home and any relationship with Victor. Malcolm could have returned to London post-Africa, maybe to meet Catriona sooner or dislike Dr. Sweet, as it's a disservice to reduce him to little more than Kaetenay's sidekick. That said, yes please to more of Studi's set in his ways Apache. He still scalps because old habits die hard, but he doesn't drink and believes one can't die until his purpose is served. Granted, Penny Dreadful is trading the mystical negro trope for the mystical Apache stereotype, but the moonlight visions and enigmatic destiny talk tie the blood, suffering, and wolves together. Kaetenay pushes on after Ethan no matter what – he and his people have endured much but he's prepared to face this darkness over London. There should have been more time for his revelations, and Penny Dreadful only makes use of Kaetenay when needed. It takes seven episodes for Ethan to heed his warnings about what is to come, and he should have mystically connected with Vanessa from the start. As Ethan's father, Brian Cox (Coriolanus) also has some great one on one's with Malcolm. They are wonderfully alike, right down to the conquest map on Jared Talbot's wall, the mountains named after him, and an empty home as the cost. However, a boat load of family history that Ethan already knows is repeatedly told rather than seen, leaving Talbot Senior unevenly written with sorrowful or crazed exposition amid one gunshot and stand off after another. Had we seen the first terrible shootout that has him so angry, then this second battle in his ranch chapel would have had much more meaning. Kaetenay provided connecting visions when necessary, so why not have some kind of mystic Talbot dream that showed the betrayals and horrors causing all this pain?

Fortunately, Rory Kinnear's Creature aka Caliban aka John Clare has some superb redemption on Penny Dreadful. He won't harm a dying cabin boy, recalls more about who he was, and realizes who he may yet be after touching moments in the Fourth and Fifth episodes showing his life before his death and resurrection. He is again at the window or in the eaves, on the outside peering in on those that think he is dead. The Creature risks rejection and reaches out despite the pain, blossoming from being an angry violent child to almost the man he used to be. His resurrection allows Caliban to find his family – only to loose it again thanks to innocence versus the unnatural. This season, Clare is almost totally separate from everyone else, alone on this sympathetic journey beyond too brief moments with Vanessa, erroneously on the fringe without even seeing Dr. Frankenstein. He may piece together his past, but not enough was done with the connection between Vanessa and the Creature. She recognizes him, but not him her, and Penny Dreadful cops out by resolving their past in a flashback. Again, just because we the audience saw it does not mean the characters themselves received any current resolution. Why didn't Caliban ever knock on Malcolm's door? He would have been welcome in this misfit family dang nabbit! Reeve Carney's Dorian Gray and Billie Piper's Brona cum Lily Frankenstein, however, should have stayed home. By his very nature, Dorian is a supporting character that never changes. They aren't missed when absent but Penny Dreadful uses him and Lily to shoehorn in some kind of modern feminism vengeance that goes nowhere fast with repetitive, ad nauseam speeches. Whether it is justified man hate or not, the appearance of Jessica Barden (The End of the F***ing World) as Justine perhaps a la the de Sade wastes time with back alley torture, nudity, and bloody threesomes. The warped justice is all over the place with even less to do Dorian getting stabbed for funsies before he gets bored from having seen such depravity already. Episodes grind to a halt with their round and round male behavior psychoanalysis, briefly tossing in suffragettes and violence that makes them just as bad as the abusers from who they claim to rescue women. Penny Dreadful has done better psychosexual themes, and compared to Caliban's soul searching, Lily realizes her humanity too late in one great soliloquy that should happened the moment she was reborn, and Ethan never finds out Brona has been resurrected!!!!

Harry Treadaway's junkie Victor Frankenstein becomes a mopey little piss ant bent on proving his superior science can conquer death, and he arrogantly thinks he can perfect on Jekyll's methods. Maybe there's a parallel between his wanting to create angels instead of monsters and Lily's superior woman army, but their uneven storylines barely intersect beyond a few redundant stalker scenes and never factor into other plots. Victor goes about getting Lily back in the worst way possible, becoming like his originally angry Creature in a fitting poetic justice. He's deluded in thinking Lily owes him anything, and it should be a great destructive character arc. However, rather than having him freaking call on Vanessa while they are both in London twiddling their thumbs, Penny Dreadful treats Frankenstein as an afterthought before one last lesson on how to be a human rather than the monster. One poetic voiceover from Victor such as, “Sir Malcolm, I hesitate to confess it now, but I must inform you I have a singular talent for defeating death as we know it...” could have ended Penny Dreadful in a uniquely twisted vein. Sadder still is that Shazad Latif (Mi-5) as Dr. Jekyll somehow turns into a handing Victor the scalpel lackey. He has history with Dr. F. – roommates and dare I say something more – and faces much “half breed” Victorian racism. Jekyll despises his white father but wants his acclaim and title to help prove his serum on anger and duality. Simply put, there is no way he was intended as a throwaway character and we deserved to know him more. Although scheduling conflicts necessitated the departure of Simon Russell Beale as Mr. Lyle, his being written off as going on assignment to Egypt just begs to be told! Did everyone forget all the prophecies on Amunet and Lucifer or the hieroglyphics carved onto the vampire bodies? Of all the friends still about London who never bother to visit, it's Lyle who draws Vanessa out and into therapy because thanks to his closeted sexuality, he understands what it is like to be unique and alone. Of course, he might have mentioned Perdita Weeks' (The Tudors) thanatologist Catriona Hartdegen when they were studying all that Fallen Angel and Mother of Evil stuff. She's a woman of occult science fencing and wearing pants who doesn't blink at the thought of Dracula being in London. Her one on one scenes with Vanessa are well done with possible replacement or lover vibes, “It's 'Cat' for you, as in cat o' nine tails.'” Wink! She calls Malcolm “Sir M” and I would have liked to see more of them together, but Catriona's style provides a steampunk cum The Time Machine and albeit meaningless potential. Her cool fighting skills are ultimately convenient and inexplicable – if we weren't going to learn more then all these superfluous characters should have never been introduced.

We are however given some divine new characters with Patti LuPone returning to Penny Dreadful as Dr. Florence Seward – an alienist said to have distant Clayton ancestry due to her resemblance to LuPone's previous cut-wife role. Though rigid and progressive, Seward is there to heal the ill, who aren't bad or unworthy, just ill. She calls out every politeness or mannerism, pegging Vanessa's loss, isolation, and depression in delicious two-hander scenes with award worthy dialogue and delivery. A moving session recounting Vanessa's tale, however, makes the doctor strike up a cigarette. She refuses to believe the paranormal causes or that vampires are after her patient, but she does understand pain and has some murderous history of her own. Samuel Barnett's (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency) seemingly innocent Renfield is Dr. Seward's secretary, but his red light district cruising leads to bloody encounters and insect snacks. Where Penny Dreadful initially had to dance around the Stoker limitations, these superb character interpretations deserved more than this season's rushed attention. Christian Camargo (Dexter) as zoologist and charming widower Alexander Sweet is a man smitten using rapid fire science references to woo Vanessa, but his reveal as Dracula is too darn early. This romance seemed so happy and Sweet is almost empathetic, but evil lurks in the House of Mirrors of all places! He doesn't want Vanessa's submission, just to be seduced by she, the Mother of Evil and serve her. Sadly, unraveling toppers instead go unresolved. After admitting he was directly responsible for Mina's demise and all of Season One, Penny Dreadful lets Dracula exit stage right and we aren't supposed to notice? What is worth noticing are the trains, dime western action, and steampunky flair alongside our usual penny blood, gore, buzzing flies, broken necks, and bat silhouettes. The cobwebbed and boarded manor opens the windows and clears the dust as the camera focuses on the period touches – vintage motion picture cameras, spectacles, brandy decanters, nibs, and ledgers contrast the hay, canteens, wagons, saw dust, and Native American motifs. The fashions are a little more modern, but the museums, taxidermy, skeletons, and specimens in jars invoke Victorian sciences amid the carriages, cobblestone, and tolling bells. Although some CGI backgrounds are apparent with a foreground actor and fakery behind, the desert vistas, mountains, and ranch compounds create bright lighting schemes to contrast the British grays, developing a unique style like nothing else on television. 

 

Unfortunately, with NBC's Dracula long gone, Crimson Peak's less than stellar box office, and Penny lost too soon, the promise of more Victorian horror and a new dark romanticism appears short-lived. Whether the cast or Logan wanted to depart or Showtime disliked the production expenses, something behind the scenes was the final nail in Penny Dreadful's coffin. The two hour finale burned off the last episodes yet advertising promoting the event as a season finale later backtracked with the series' fate. More merchandising opportunities never seemed capitalized upon, and there was little award campaigning. Having had Season One available on other streaming platforms might have helped the show find more audiences, however Penny Dreadful wasn't available on Netflix until after its cancellation in a tidy Three Season binge package. The series' props have been auctioned off, so it appears no one shopped Penny Dreadful to any other networks. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but in late 2015 while this Third Year was filming was also when Tom Cruise swept in to take over The Mummy and start Universal's highly anticipated but ultimately D.O.A. Dark Universe monster revival. Did somebody squash the competition? Maybe it isn't as simple as that, but I will always be skeptical of Logan and Showtime's he said/she said claiming that this was always how Penny Dreadful was supposed to end. With new locales and more colorful literary characters among our beloved team, why couldn't Penny Dreadful sustain itself? Previously, one could overlook any small inconsistencies because the sophisticated scares and morose design far outweighed any negatives. This season, however, becomes a chore to continue and is best left at Episode Four. After finishing Dexter and losing interest in Homeland and Ray Donovan, we've canceled our Showtime subscription since Penny is no more. There were other ways to do Penny Dreadful justice than this, well, what seems like internal sabotage, but gothic viewers shouldn't let this rushed Season Three dampen what has otherwise been a stellar and macabre program.

Recent Horror Documentaries

Recent Horror Documentaries

by Kristin Battestella

Gather round any time of year for these informative documentary scares, monsters of the silver screen, ye olde witches, and retro ghosts. Boo!

Monster Madness: The Golden Age of The Horror Film – Moody scoring, photo stills, archive footage, and black and white clips accent this eighty minute retrospective chronicling the silent horror classics and Universal Horror glory from the famed Stage 28, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and The Phantom of the Opera to Dracula, Frankenstein, and The Mummy. Guest speakers include Carla Laemmle, Bela Lugosi Jr, and Sara Karloff alongside newsreels celebrating The Bride of Frankenstein despite Depression era censorship. The narration moves fast, however – packing in a one and a half speed sentence before the highlights chronologically discuss Lon Chaney, Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, James Whale, and the continued provocative power, nightmare inducing effectiveness, and good versus evil morality plays of these really nice guys creating monster men. Further success in The Old Dark House and The Black Cat would typecast these favorites amid 1939 Hollywood heights and wartime escapism scares, and MGM competition from Fu Man Chu and Mark of the Vampire, Paramount's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Peter Lorre in Mad Love add more than just Universal to the conversation. Brief side chats also mention the growth of horror makeups and effects, SF horrors, Island of Lost Souls, and RKO's King Kong before The Mummy's Hand and The Wolf Man degrade into the more juvenile fluff mash ups such House of Frankenstein and Abott and Costello meet Frankenstein. At times, this seems somewhat unofficial, with Monster Rally panel interviews, repeated trailers, and an uneven focus – some topics are fleeting, others ramble and stray from the comment at hand. Lesser sequels are skipped entirely, and this leg ends on an abrupt down note, unable to stand on its own and forcing viewers to continue with Monster Madness: Mutants, Space Invaders, and Drive Ins. While mostly superficial with nothing new for longtime horror fans, fun anecdotes keep this informative and atmospheric for newer genre audiences. 

 

Monster Madness: The Gothic Revival of Horror – This eighty-two minutes continues recounting the horror history with Hammer Films' early struggles and suspense pictures before edgy SF fare like The Quatermass Experiment and the Technicolor Hammer Horror renaissance with Horror of Dracula and The Curse of Frankenstein. Tossing in Elvis, however, alongside the state of fifties cinema and hammy television horrors meanders, delaying more interesting talk on Christopher Lee's larger than life monster stature and the beloved Peter Cushing as the villainous Dr. Frankenstein. Rambling archive footage with Lee, Jimmy Sangster, Freddie Francis, Ingrid Pitt, and Oliver Reed is also difficult to discern at times while the chronology sputters over The Hound of Baskervilles, The Mummy, and Hammer's increasingly ambitious set design, colorful gore, and saucy skin. Standalone thrillers including Paranoiac, Scream of Fear, and Curse of the Werewolf are discussed alongside the varying success of sequels such as The Revenge of Frankenstein, the polarizing Evil of Frankenstein, Dracula: Prince of Darkness, and Dracula Has Risen from the Grave. Other hits like Psycho, Amicus productions such as The Skull and The Creeping Flesh, and anthologies including Dr. Terror's House of Horrors are name dropped, but this session unfortunately wastes more time missing famous horror classics such as The Innocents and The Haunting – and Vincent Price is never even mentioned! Censorship battles and raunchy from The Vampire Lovers or Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde don't hide the lagging mood, and this ostensible presentation ends on The Satanic Rites of Dracula without discussing further Amicus and AIP productions or even more Hammer gems such as Frankenstein Created Woman and Countess Dracula. These Monster Madness documentaries need to go together, yet the series should have been either exhaustive two hour slots or a half hour series with tighter focus per topic. Despite a sentimental and flawed presentation, this video has enough serviceable nostalgia for Hammer lovers and tip of the iceberg information for budding horror fans.

Witches: A Century of Murder – Historian Suzannah Lipscomb hosts this two-part 2015 special chronicling the seventeenth century persecutions and torture run rampant as witchcraft hysteria spread from James I in the late fifteen hundreds through Charles I and the English Civil War. 1589 Europe has burn at the stake fever thanks to the Malleus Maleficarum belief that witches were in league with the devil, and contemporaneous sources, books, and confessions help recount violent techniques and sexual aspects that may not be classroom friendly. Innocent birthmarks or moles on maids and midwives were used and misconstrued until naming names and pointing fingers snowballed into deplorable jail conditions, hangings, and conspiracy. Postulating on why the innocent would confess is addressed alongside the details from the North Berwick Witch Trials – including garroting and even the smell of burning human fat. James I's own Daemonologie becomes a license to hunt witches as the 1645 then-normal rationale that witches have sex with the devil escalates to extreme Puritan paranoia. Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins takes the law into his own hands via body searches, sleep deprivation, and agonizing deaths while unknown medicinal ills or causes were conveniently mistaken as evidence for witchcraft accusations. Names and faces are put to the exorbitant number of accused while on location scenery from Scotland to Oxford, Essex, and Denmark add to the prison tours and suspenseful trial re-enactments. Here specific facts and detailed information happen early and often rather than any hollow paranormal herky jerky in your face design. Community fears, social cleansing frenzy, and things done in the name of good and God against evil and the Devil at work accent the timeline of how and why this prosecution became persecution run amok. Instead of broad, repetitive sensationalism or the same old Salem talk, this is a mature and well presented narrative on the erroneous impetus of the witchcraft hysteria.

Skip It!

The Haunting of Fox Hollow Farm – This sixty-four minute documentary from 2011 opens with a disclaimer on the interviewee testimonies before more inserts explaining the history of the titular Indiana farm and the subsequent paranormal investigation. Archive footage and news reports add drownings and skeletal evidence to the murderous past, lending a bit of authenticity to this obviously low budget and on the fly production pretending to be a paranormal reality show with green night filming and shadowed talking heads. Jerky skeptical men dismiss the fanatical women and numerous psychics, mediums, demonologists, and shamans while rambling, repetitive visuals, graphics, camera pans, and editing cuts make audiences wonder what the heck is happening here. I feel like this never expressly states that it is about heinous serial killer crimes and their subsequent hauntings thanks to double talk on both, and it takes over fifteen meandering minutes before getting into the case details. Instead of actually seeing the investigative action, narrated montages and music video slide shows feign something fantastic but really just waste time on the same minutiae, treading tires in an incoherent attempt to play at Unsolved Mysteries or imitate today's ad nauseam paranormal reality shows. I couldn't take this whole thing, the case has been covered elsewhere, and reading the Wikipedia page was better.

More Short Lived Shows

More Short Lived Shows :-(

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?

Forties Mysteries and Mayhem Returns!

More Forties Mystery and Mayhem!

By Kristin Battestella

Science run amok, family monsters, mistaken identity, mystery, and murder abounds in these wartime tales inspired by classic literatures and period macabre.  

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – Spencer Tracy (Boys Town), Ingrid Bergman (Casablanca), and Lana Turner (Peyton Place) star in this loose 1941 Robert Louis Stevenson adaptation from director Victor Fleming (Gone with the Wind), itself a remake of the 1931 Fredric March award winner. Though available on DVD sets with its predecessor, the heavy-handed religion good and science bad Hayes Code restrictions here hamper the supposedly scandalous talk of whether the soul is in the realm of science or spirit. The slow, talkative start, dated abstract ideals, and dramatic pacing tell the audience about these radical experiments rather than showing the medical dangers. The design also isn’t as impressive as we might expect, for black and white photography and small set pieces don’t illume all the possible Victorian grandeur. Quick animal testings and laboratory montages represent the science fiction while the up close transformations and intimate camerawork remains on the earnest but out of place Tracy– he ironically looks kind of goofy and doesn’t seem all that different as Hyde. Bergman adds some much needed sassy intrigue, and it’s pleasing to see one normally so demure go from saucy and streetwise to submissive and scared thanks to Hyde. Unfortunately, Turner doesn’t have much to do as the suffering fiancée, and her charming society chaste counter balance isn’t well developed. Escalating violence and bemusing dream sequences of the two women, lotus flowers rising, whipping racing horses, and bottle corks popping do much better with the innuendo. We never get the horror depravity one hopes with this tale thanks to the straightforward presentation and fade to black tame, but it’s nonetheless fun to see just for the classic stars going freaky.

The Invisible Man Returns – Smoky atmosphere, great décor, execution tensions, and reprieve desperation start this 1940 sequel featuring a young Vincent Price as the eponymously afflicted. There’s some confusion in how this plot ties in with the 1933 film but the familial connections are explained soon enough. Objects move by themselves thanks to the invisible tricks and the neat see through effects hold up well along with Scotland Yard investigations, a fun laboratory, innocent romance, and elaborate plans. Animal experiment scenes, however, are bittersweet, and Price’s voice is a bit muffled when under wraps for the fainting ladies. His voice isn’t the raspy smooth, mature sound we love, either, but the invisible science debates and ethical questions amid the escalating violence are intriguing. Why look for a cure when the madness is so much fun? A touch of social commentary, a wronged man, an 80-minute built in ticking clock, and a race for an antidote forgive some bumbling cop work and the cliché, hammy colloquialisms, and there’s a wild, dirty, factory finish. But I’m not going to tell you if we see the young, debonair Vincent, hah! 

The Undying Monster – Great ominous music sets the mood along with family curses, stately but sinister seaside locales, tolling bells, barking dogs, and turn of the 19^th century styles for this 1942 hour. Gas lamps, old time phones, and period laboratories accent the conversational delivery – which isn’t your typical monster exposition. Foreboding uses of shadows and light, up close camera attacks, and wolf howls keep the action moving while a comical older lady, on the case Scotland Yard, and meddling help are smartly utilized. Beware, there is one scene of canine faint, but this leads to intriguing self-aware discussions on the supernatural versus science and ancestral indiscretions like selling one’s soul to the devil. No one wants to believe what’s happening, and as such, the pleasant horror tone takes a backseat to a proactive who done the violence mystery. The ensemble, however, adds well done banter, antagonism, agendas, and evidence. The scares are wisely used as needed, and the time here doesn’t seem so short thanks to a fun action pursuit finish. This is a well put together little eerie, and I sincerely wonder why contemporary horror films just can’t take everything done right here and maximize all the gothic atmosphere and glory.

The Woman in White –The late Eleanor Parker (The Sound of Music) shines amidst the top hats, frilly collars, carriages, white capes, flowing skirts, and asylum escapes in this spooky but alluring 1948 adaptation of the Wilkie Collins novel. Lovely interiors, telescopic effects, camera tricks, black and white photography, and shadowy lighting designs accentuate the titular figure whilst moving candlelight and brimming fog layer the cemeteries and outdoor scenery. The opening and closing narration and tacked on whimsy feel amiss, and there are some hammy characters and melodramatic over acting. However, Parker is doubly charming, and the ill at ease, mistaken identity and family secrets blend well with the budding romantic triangles. A perfectly scheming Sydney Greenstreet (The Maltese Falcon) adds to the suspicions and Agnes Moorehead (Bewitched) drops an intriguing tidbit or two. Granted, several dated plot points may be amusing – a 2-year engagement is considered urgent? A distant relative institutionalized is scandalous? Fortunately, plot twists increase as the mystery, tension, secret passages, and creepy escalates. The audience is forced to pay attention and seek out the subtleties – even if you’re familiar with the story; this version remains fun to watch as all the switcharoos unfold.

One to Skip

The Invisible Woman – Following The Invisible Man Returns, this 1940 double bill is slow to start with anonymous humor and lighthearted talk of money and loveable, hair brained professors. Let’s put an ad in the paper seeking someone who wants to become invisible! The get back at her nasty boss reason for our supposedly so ballsy and beautiful lady applicant – a model aptly named Kitty – is weak, and the invisibility making machine instead of the previous potions is mostly an unexplained MacGuffin. Beyond Wicked Witch of the West Margaret Hamilton and Stooge Shemp Howard, the sassy house staff is annoying and the numerous coming and going people all look the same. Fun laboratories and experiment effects are pleasing along with the softer, melodic scoring. However, the feminine spins seem wasted on scaring off jerks and clothes off or on innuendo. Crooks are after the invisibility machine, there’s somebody named Foghorn, bad Mexican jokes, and the slapstick – eh, I stopped caring and went to clean my tub drain instead. This is harmless fun and dated girl power if you like forties comedy, but it unfortunately doesn’t match the fantastic dilemmas of its predecessors and replaces them with 70 minutes of overlong and loosely tied platitudes.