Spanish Netflix Horrors!

Spanish Netflix Horrors!

By Kristin Battestella

At times, it's tough muddling through the foreign Netflix content and re-branded continental originals padded with run of the mill scares. Fortunately this trio of short and long form international Netflix productions featuring Basque witch hunts, Mexican demon hunters, and transatlantic wartime mysteries provides plenty of unique thrills.

Coven of Sisters – Burning pyres and whispers of witches communing with Lucifer jump right into the 1609 Basque torment in this award winning 2020 international/Spanish Netflix production. Seventy-seven executions and counting mar the beautiful cliffs, picturesque ships, and moss forests as royal judges seek out maritime towns where women have been left alone and apparently up to no good. Excellent carriages, armor, frocks, and stoneworks provide period mood as our happy girls weave and dream of far off places. They are captured and stripped with bags over their heads and fear evident thanks to questions about summoning Beelzebub. The girls point fingers at each other – wavering from confident of their innocence and nonchalant about the witch accusations to quivering and afraid after beatings and shaved heads. Tension builds in the one room unknown as suspicions and confessions raise the frazzled interrogations and double talk entrapment. Guards ask if they offer themselves to Lucifer while prodding with needles and searching their bodies for any devil's mark. Where did the devil stick his tail in them? Did they dance? Dancing spreads fanaticism! There are no fast intercut montages or fake outs toying with the audience, just in scene interplay with eerie screams and uninterrupted singsong. They make up chants and have their jailers procure oddities for this supposed sabbath ritual, but it isn't a game when those sinister captors devoutly persecuting every blasphemy readily jump to devilish conclusions. Men wonder if they are bewitched by the tempting supple, pressing the weary girls into saying what they want to hear, and these daughters stall to avoid the stake, hoods, torches, and shackles until their sailing fathers return. They hope to escape during the full moon, so one tells a wild tale with preposterous twists in hopes of taking blame to save the others. Our supposedly learned, religious men bemusingly believe every fantastic turn, and after witnessing all our recent stateside strife, it's not surprising how this kind of pitchfork hysteria and mob idiocy spreads. If they want to see a witches sabbath, the girls may as well makes fools of them complete with mushrooms, contortions, and flying. This is an excellent presentation on allure, hypocrisy, and consequences in a unique, horrible history setting made easily accessible thanks to several subtitle and language options.

Diablero – This 2018-20 Mexican Netflix series based on the book by the late Francisco Haghenbeck is oddly structured with fourteen episodes ranging between a few forty minute episodes and mostly shorter half hour entries. Despite steady directors and a regular writers room, the pace is uneven, treading tires over demonic puzzle pieces while prologues each episode give the viewer the same information twice. Voices are soft compared to loud violence, and the subtitles don't exactly match the spoken languages. Silly tentacles, levitations, and in your face demon roars are unnecessary, and the hot priest in a towel is weird, too. Fortunately, shadowed stabbings, hooded attackers, and demonic abductions are frightening. Edgy music and Mexico City panache accent the last rites, chaos, and evil spirits trapped in bottles. There's a lot to establish with ecclesiastics, creepy ephemera, steampunk gadgets, and mystical mixed cultures. However great characterizations anchor the quicksilver weapons and uneasy alliances. Career oriented cardinals and ineffective police can't help with these demonic problems, but others struggle to accept why God allows these things to happen, if he ever even existed, or if humanity has been abandoned. Missing bodies, occult symbols, burned flesh, deceptive encounters, eerie eyes, and demonic dissected lab rats deepen the scary while seedy criminal shenanigans provide sassy humor. Despite knife standoffs, morgue switch-a-roos, and intriguing connections between pregnant women, simpletons, abused nuns, and significant birth dates; it takes half the First Season to get anywhere with the secret organizations, intertwined family histories, and spells. Our Priest is correct in saying events happen for nothing and they should investigate properly. Seeing the abducted daughter amid demon chases, false escapes, and no reception close calls doesn't let us wonder on her fate. We can read such meanwhile but here the detours detract from what should be a much more focused story. Unnecessary psychic demon vessels with cool headphones, uncomfortable self-harm emo angst, and awkward man of the cloth flirtations waste time by creating more problems – slowing plot progression and stumbling on to one piece of information per episode. Their diablero dad asks why they didn't come for his help sooner when the answers were right under their noses, and the rocky relationships and diablera expertise are disjointed between more flashbacks and underutilized spooky bookstores before rushing into end of the world by dawn countdowns. Subtle possessions, the Church knowing more than it's saying, and evil conclaves toying with life and death are much more chilling. Nahuatl invocations, Latin exorcisms, salt circles, and demon summonings add horror while nightmares, violence at the altar, and scary witches with freaky voices provide great revelations. Bewitching teas, earthquakes, four horsemen of the apocalypse parallels, archaeological clues, dark caverns, and evil children finally bring our players together as our reluctant heroes wax on what they'll do if they survive amid traffic jam humor and #endoftheworld selfies. The intense action, quality demon effects, ulterior motives, and faith are well done as bittersweet reunions and meteorite cover ups lead into the more colorful Season Two. Despite some resolutions, our crew struggles against demon drugs, slimy goo, and dominatrix diableras. Some want to be normal but demons ruin the dinner date with messages from the other side. Gas oven rituals and hidden night club comic relief escalate to Mictlan barges of the dead and in limbo rescues. Monster exorcisms fail against mad science experiments thanks to mystical keys, surprising murders, grave digging, and cranky undead relatives. Chosen children, angel possessions, family flashbacks, and deals with death are repetitive and players from the First Season are dismissed for new characters. The anonymous villain clichés are also unnecessary as are lez be friends baiting and the frigging sex with the priest, but fortunately, the plot is more personal and taut in Year Two thanks to diablera training, reincarnation, and demon mind games. Thunderstorms and haunted house encounters are well done alongside monstrous transformations, bloody smoothies, funerals, and sacrifices. Shootouts and revenge culminate in surprising deaths and a bemusing if left open for more finale. The intriguing story, great world building, and fine characters meander with one step forward, two steps back frustrations, but the good versus evil adventures come together in the end. Without such unfocused structural flaws, this could have gone on for another two seasons.

High Seas – The twenty-two episode 2019 Spanish murder mystery Alta Mar jumps right into the action with stowaway suspense, albatross omens, and murder aboard a post-war luxury cruise liner en route from Spain to Brazil. High end period detail including hats, gloves, brooches, satin, stoles, frocks, and cigarettes matches the Art Deco splendor, sumptuous colors, inlaid woodwork, and divine staircases. Impressive ship visuals and Titanic engineering specs provide scale alongside maze like halls, askew angles, turbulent waves, and thunderstorms. Jazzy ballads and grand ballrooms create mood before intrepid writers, telegrams, cryptic conversations, and suspicious midnight rendezvous raise the disappearances, accusations, and blackmail. In debt Lotharios, lecherous in-laws, and handsome officers clash with underbelly workmen and disgruntled servants, and the episodic chapters allow time for plots high and low. Course changes and defying orders question who's in charge – the aging captain, wealthy owners, angry shareholders, or the slimy ship detective? Ominous cargo holds, stolen lipstick, lockets, typewriters, and ransacked rooms escalate to man overboard emergencies, fires, and promises to take one's secrets to the grave. Intertwined crimes are resolved as new twists and turns are well balanced between the dramatic love triangles, faked accidents, and fishy business deals. Microfilm clues and poisoned cocktails reveal previous conspiracies, past motives, and Nazi gold. It's dangerous to wander the secret passages amid power outages, red lights, and increasingly dark corridors, yet surprising deaths aren't what they seem thanks to mad doctors and tick tock countdowns. Blinding blows, chases, castaways, and an SOS start Season Two alongside tarot cards, psychic clues, and seances. Crackling intercoms, bloody bodies on the bed, ghosts, dead women walking on deck, spooky phone calls, and more paranormal are not out of the blue, but rather a natural progression of the escalating circumstances. However, is the vintage Ouija an elaborate ruse or are there really evil spirits starboard? The ship becomes a character of its own with messages on the mirror, old fashioned spy gadgets, lifeboat rigs, and daring escapes. Too many lies, betrayals, and forged letters acerbate wedding shocks, secret pregnancies, and business takeovers. There are some soap opera slaps in the face, too! Shipwreck deceptions and bodies in trunks culminate in one final kicker before Year Three takes a new course from Buenos Aires to Mexico. Our writer published a novel about the cruise experience, but strange suitors at the bookstore and a spooky antique shop lead to British Intelligence and objectives to track down an incoming passenger who's really a Nazi doctor carrying a deadly virus. It's fun to see who's back for better or worse – same crew, servants in new ship staff positions, fresh crisscrossing romances. A second sister ship will travel behind with expensive cargo, but a man is shot on the first night out and bodies end up in the car boot in the hold. Do you up security and alarm the passengers? Those who know about incriminating notes are indisposed via fevers, injections, and Luger murder weapons. Bandaged patients aboard provide intrigue amid suspicious radio transmissions, magic disappearing acts, and dark room suspense. Missing photographs, doppelgangers, and torturous know how make for shady alliances, but one can't worry about scruples after an innocent man is dead. Code decryption, trick lighters, and secret cameras uncover planted evidence, sinister green tubes, and ruinous revenge as gaslighting, threats, and mutiny lead to armed standoffs and shocking gunshots. Concentration camp survivors recall sadistic doctors who enjoyed what they did, but evil lookalikes slip up thanks to disguises and a scrumptious masquerade ball with perfect lighting, glam, and gowns. Life or death maydays raise the outbreak finale, yet it is strange to see vintage masks, quarantines, and plague panic these days. Coughing and spreading symptoms remind us of our socially distant reality, but prayers, ulterior motives, and divided sisters add to the evacuations, knives, and showdowns. Rescue warships would rather sink than save, but vaccines come in the nick of time – with a twist or three. The destination pacing and cliffhangers are easy to marathon, but it's a pity Netflix turned its back on this series. Nothing here is superfluous thanks to Shakespearean asides, whispers in the gallery, and well done mysteries. Obviously this not being full on horror may disappoint some, however the period atmosphere, sweeping melodrama, and gothic twists remind me of Dark Shadows' earlier years.

Netflix also has a bad habit of not promoting its branded foreign content. It's apparent their current model is quantity over quality, populating its catalog with as much original and proprietary premieres as possible – presuming you'll binge one and stay for the next recommend similar click and chill. Remember, it's in their best interest to keep you streaming. Sometimes that works and you find great shows! However more often than not it means unique movies get lost in the shuffle and shows that deserve more time are dropped after a few seasons. This leaves a lot of unfulfilling filler – especially in the horror and genre categories which seem to have the most flotsam and jetsam.

Disappointing Science Fiction and Fantasy

 

Disappointing Science Fiction and Fantasy 😕

by Kristin Battestella

Sometimes you just want a good science fiction tale, comic book cuddle, or fantasy escapade. Unfortunately, none of these shows, adaptations, or recent films fit the sci-fi action or magical adventure bill. Pity.

Bloodshot – I used to love Valiant Comics such as Eternal Warrior and Timewalker, but their Unity crossover was one of the chases that really put me off collecting comic books and I'm still jaded about shared universe ambitions because of it. Likewise, this 2020 adaptation feels better left in 1994 where tween me wouldn't notice the PG-13 ripoff of Universal Soldier. International locations and exotic looks were for foreign market appeal pre-COVID, and the sun kissed sexy remains tame teen fantasy. The juvenile bad guys in socks with sandals dancing to “Psycho Killer” are terribly hip for a young audience yet the bound torment and physical violence would be for an adult viewer more familiar with an older comic book. Intruding humor and slow credits over the titular revival thirteen minutes in cut any momentum or mystery while voices and dialogue stay low as if to assure we can't hear the script and delivery are sub par. Tough one on one attacks, crunching bones, and personal assaults are real world grim compared to rah rah cool gunfire and grenades, and the successful resurrected realization feels hollow against the seemingly more interesting but unseen Frankenstein trial and error prior. Fast moving conversations leave little time to reflect; the camera is always on the move even when people are standing still, and personnel are defined by their enhancements instead of who they are. The evil organization is cool or screws up as needed, and the quirky IT support are stereotypically Black, Indian, or Asians incompetent for using open source code or geniuses for hacking the system. Aerial views, cityscape transitions, swimming babes, and pointless scenes without our subject break the point of view nightmares and no memories angst, but he can lift really heavy weights and punch through the sand bag so that makes all the trauma super! Serious debates are too brief as uninspired writing and direction place cool over substance – internal conflict and implanted recollections are less important than montages filled with facility tours, cutting edge equipment, biochemical tissues, neurons, microscopic zooms, computer screens, instantaneous travel, downloaded knowledge, and technological cheats. Snow versus fire, colorful red flairs, and overhead panoramas can't save anonymous shootouts, typical action chases, and same old road rage amid impersonal, overly complicated, and poorly choreographed fights that are slow motion banal or sped up in apparent post production compensation. The memory resets get old fast, and the overemphasis on unbelievable CGI and insipid world building matches the surprisingly uninspired Vin Diesel's (Pitch Black) chewing glass graveling. Egocentric doctor Guy Pearce (Brimstone) is fine as usual, but one on one scenes between them feel like they are in two different movies with Pearce standing out enough for us to wonder why this isn't told from the mad science perspective. Choices and consequences or commentary about America making dead soldiers daily when not selling technologically advanced warfare to the highest bidder get lost in the team laughing over the repetitive mission stories and penis jokes, and all the faux revenge to eliminate the competition seems like such convoluted work when the augmented team could have just grown to question the falsified intel. The dead revival revenge isn't as emotional as it should be, and ironically, if this had been a hard R in the nineties sans CGI with Pearce as Bloodshot and nothing to rely upon except the eponymous pain, it would have been sweet!

Cursed – This 2020 ten episode Netflix season based on the Frank Miller comic retelling a young Nimue Lady of the Lake starts with cliché music and styles. The fantasy greenery, ruins, and fey magic, however, show promise as Nimue struggles with her budding powers, fearful village, and running away from her priestess mother. Castles, colorful bazaars, royal courts, and paladins versus fey folk set the scene, but the graphic novel, 300-esque scene transitions are disruptive and unnecessary in a medieval narrative with pyres, full moons, rituals, and magical people. Fiery flashbacks detail corrupt priests and burning violence, but it's tough to tell who or what's important between a drunk Merlin, shouting Uther, convenient powers, and poor action choreography with random running to and fro. Helpful weapons are both ignored or the basis for a mystical quest that doesn't really happen once the focus cuts away from Nimue too soon. Without the redundant bears, wolves, chases, and crap men, this would have been a much shorter four hours or even a Nimue movie. Anonymous henchman and undefined demons go back and forth while pieces of flashback events and everyone talking about what happened make for a sluggish pace and dragging structure. Villains in red and a headhunting Lancelot are defined simply by their garments, and all the fey wear weird brain braids to distinguish their characters as cryptic awe, blood rain, three headed babies, and flashback memories out of Nimue's point of view waste time. Interesting allies and refreshed Arthurian relations don't go anywhere because previous episodes' actions are constantly reiterated. Attention spans aren't that short – especially if we have built trust in the main character – but it seems like the show doesn't trust its lead when she is the best part. The modern, hooded, and emo men are jarring against fey remedies used to heal a paladin who attacked our Lady, a fine character moment lost amid bullies in pubs and who's got the sword hot potato. The first three episodes toil but skipping to Episode Six only begats stereotypical lesbian deaths and heterosexual triangles that again won't let our heroine stand on her own. Parental twists aren't shocking, and there is no attempt at holding the sword properly or training in any kind of skill or magic because the past – where we apparently should have been thanks to sooo many flashbacks – is more important. Rather than a character telling his murderous regrets where there's a chance for growth, the tires just keep treading between gory adult fantasy moments, redundant flashbacks, and young romance that don't go together. Had this not had Arthurian names, you wouldn't even recognize Camelot thanks to this formulaic Netflix mold. I kept watching more episodes than this deserved hoping it would get better but it doesn't.

Underwater – Maps and Mariana Trench headlines with obvious keywords such as dangerous, mystery, and anomaly open this 2020 sci-fi horror thriller starring Kristen Stewart (Lizzie) before an existential narration, contemplation over a spider circling the drain, and sexy camera gazes over her skimpy sports bra. Cluttered interiors, old hospital green, and crummy locker room congestion better set the silent ill at ease isolation before water cascades, structural breaches, and compromised pressure. Hectic running, rig damage, and bulkhead malfunctions are fine; herky jerky camera moments are okay. However both together aren't in media res destruction when we have no idea what's happening. Buckling metals, intercom static, and the frazzled viewpoint of our strung out engineer contrast the trying to sound hip tech lingo, and the poor science underestimates today's informed audience. The “I can't” women are shaky, weak, and coddled, and it's really weird that their tiny panties are one of many Alien imitations here. Captain Vincent Cassel (A Dangerous Method) provides facts on the situation as if he's in a different movie, and the lack of knowledge from the others make them seem like coeds on a tour that must be escorted to safety rather than adults who worked on the rig. Rising waters and airlock apprehension are relatable aquaphobia and claustrophobia, but unnecessary comic relief hampers heavy breathing, distress signals, and growling unknowns – breaking the inside and outside intercut tension before it's started. Repeatedly shouting, “Did you see that?” like this is Ghost Hunters does nothing when viewers can't see anything amid the murky darkness, hectic camerawork, and fast editing. Strange creatures are carried inside sans procedure or even a pair of gloves while they poke at the gooey tentacles. The supposed plan to exit across the perilous sea floor to another station seems forgotten as the survivors somehow stop inside every few minutes to remove their helmets – obviously so we can see the actors compared to something more practical like sliding up or locking down face shields. In 1986 Aliens had their bottom barrel marines outfitted with better gear, but this team has no cameras, infrared, or tracking equipment. Of course, there's time to point out product placement Cheetos and Moon Pies in the flotsam, yet speculation about this being their fault for drilling too far down is a throwaway line rather than true foreshadowing. The camera refuses to stay still as intriguing creatures attack the suit sacred while spins and whooshes divide the team for cliché sacrifices and derivative dangers. Visual suggestions that our emo engineer is cracking amid further separation and radio silence would be understandable except she was already frazzled before the disaster and not because of any ominous discoveries. Any reference to seemingly precious glasses or necklaces is dropped, for wearing elbow and knee pads with your tiny bra and panties is apparently more important than having our protagonist struggle, and having her solo on the trek or having known the creature truth all along would have been better intense. What happens next is left to classified files and cover up headlines as the credits roll, and conspiracies explaining it was all Cthulhu were post-production decisions only realized on the movie's Wikipedia page. This could have been a harrowing tale, but the mishmash encounters, inexplicable characterizations, and poor action amount to a whole lot of nothing.

Couldn't Get Passed the First Episode

Beowulf: Return to the Shieldlands – This 2016 thirteen episode British production starring Joanne Whalley (Willow) and William Hurt (Children of a Lesser God) aired stateside on the now defunct Esquire Network of all places. Opening beaches, chases, leather, axes, and swords show promise, but terrible and I mean terrible CGI monsters intrude upon the horses, medieval village, mead hall, and beautiful scenery like a bad cartoon. Rather than seeing the cliché boy hero raised by Hrothgar properly, Hurt is relegated to deathbed and flashbacks as grown up Beowulf returns with a serious chip on his shoulder, clashing with the modern banter and contrived who is who introductions. The court intrigue is frustratingly forced, and dear me oh my the music and opening titles are major, major, embarrassing Game of Thrones copycats. Guyliner ruins the smoke, banners, capes, and effigies while undynamic players struggle with weak dialogue. The setting the scene information dumps are much too much, people we just met get killed, and there's barely room for half the crowded cast. The trying to be suspicious or ominous tone is all over the place, creating villainous people and contemporary women when we already had one of literature's original villains – and his mother. I know students may struggle with the epic in school, but the original is the best gateway compared to this running of a thousand year old story into the ground. If you don't have the budget for CGI, don't base you entire fantasy around it. Especially Beowulf, which I would love to see done without a visual Grendel, only the sounds at the door and the fear in the hall. Then again, why can't somebody just tell the poem like it is before they go and fuck it up? I hate being scathing, but names aside, nothing about this resembles Beowulf.

Recent Witches and Folk Horrors

Recent Witches and Folk Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

These indie horrors from the past few years provide folk tales, dark fantasy, and witches. While some are flawed but worthy, others are disappointingly boring and downright off putting.

Gretel & Hansel – Invitations to beware, come closer, and listen well open director Oz Perkins' (The Blackcoat's Daughter) 2020 fairy tale twist alongside creepy triangles, phantom silhouettes, pointy black hats, and babes lured to the woods. Nothing is given without something being taken away, and red leaves, eerie autumn tones, fog, and firelight create a storybook rustic, Northern European timeless. Our Gretel is older – she sees and hears things differently – but she won't work for a nasty old man even if her mother threatens her with an ax. Saddled with her younger brother Hansel, the hungry children set off for the scary woods, a magical and beautiful but spooky place with screeching crows, rustling trees, and wild mushrooms. Kindness is supposed to be its own reward and they shouldn't stop for wicked deceptions, tempting baking aromas, and unattended feasts when they peer in the window. While blurry camera work and distorted, askew angles reflect the weary unknown; the zorp, warped, dun dun dun sound effects are an obnoxious intrusion. Tender conversations and innocent chats also don't need any further narration as gross fingered, hair sniffing, disturbingly creepy Alice Krige (Star Trek: First Contact) invites the youths to enter, rest, and eat because they have no meat on their bones. Simple stone buildings and old clothing styles add to the quaint antiques, candles, lanterns, and moonlight, but red doors, colorful stained glass, hairless cats, and nightmares suggest something sinister. Where are the animals for milk and eggs for baking and why does the fresh food never spoil? Despite each child having their misgivings, Gretel offers to work for their keep, cleaning with natural herbs, vinegar, and lye before learning rare recipes and remedies. Women, you see, are either used by men or crones feared for their gifts. Young Hansel is instructed in saws and sharp tools because that's the man's work, but Gretel must hide her menstrual clean up, take control of her talents, and accept the tasty price of youth and beauty as scratch marks in the cupboard lead to whispering voices, hidden doors, and forbidden white chambers. Red lights, moss, smoke, creaking wood, and thunder accent the electronic, surreal music – weird, bizarre notes invoking seventies folk horror films. Special effects are saved for the most disturbing magic and horror with sleeping drafts, potions, salves, and bloody revelations. One must consume one's weakness before it consumes you, and a burdensome child – or a younger brother – can hold one back from her true path. Our crone wants a protege to impart her wisdom, but what happens when the apprentice surpasses the master? We know this story ends with a cannibalistic twist, but the demented chamber of horrors and fiery finale feel a little held back, not going far enough compared to the slow build getting there. The modern, intrusive narration and unnecessary sound effects are also annoying to the audience well versed in this kind of horror, but fortunately, the delicious performances and fairy tale warnings anchor this tasty retelling.

Loon Lake – David Selby and Kathryn Leigh Scott (Dark Shadows, people, Dark Shadows) anchor this 2019 Minnesota set indie opening with 1880 screams, witchy curses, multiple chops, and bloody heads. An unnecessary contemporary driving credits montage restarts the farm country rural as a drunken widower renting an empty home takes the cross off the wall. Distorted camera angles set off the horror as well as pictures of the deceased and the sense of numbness amid the pretty fields, pleasant breezes, overgrown cemetery, and eerie trees. Details on accidental deaths attributed to the witch and the bad luck that follows if you cross her grave three times come at the local diner, and Selby is quite distinct as the pesky old neighborhood kook and his conflicted minister ancestor. The bereaved, unfortunately, doesn't believe in ghosts or witches despite tales of church fires, saucy spells, and bound rituals. Flashbacks provide last rites, fresh graves, and refused nastiness alongside spirits in the window, thunder, tolling bells, and number three repetitions. Conversations on grief versus faith are nice, if heavy handed, calming moments before figures in the corn rows, apparitions of the dead, phantom noises, and creaking floorboards. The past sequences, however, are out of order. That may be an attempt at leaving the history open to interpretation or making a case for crazy with guilt unreliable, but the audience has seen independent, over the top evidence of the witch, so we know it's not all in his head. Despite surreal visions, alluring forest encounters, willing temptations, dead birds, power outages, and spooky lights; it's also difficult to be on our modern man's side. He keeps saying “Let me explain” after grabbing a woman when waking rather than admitting he had a nightmare about the witch, still wants to talk it out when threatened for attacking her, and completely ignores a full gun rack because screaming at an intruder is apparently the better thing to do. Maybe this is about his learning to believe in both good and bad, but it's tough to feel for a guy claiming he didn't deserve this when the witch didn't deserve what happened to her either. Convenient writing seen in a dream provides an end to the curse, but he doesn't try to make it right, insisting he doesn't care what went down – which isn't the best course of action when she's naked and bathing in blood. Putting on a cross makes for instant faith, but the seemingly sunny ending and false fake outs are obvious. Although this makes the most of zooms, music, and in scene scares, once again the flaws here arise in too few people wearing too many production hats, and the imbalance shows by time our man pain protagonist is literally swinging at thin air. While entertaining for both the good as well as the bad, this really feels like two stories in one, and the elder period tale is better of the two.

A Disappointment

Hex – 1644 English Civil War soldiers confront occult heresy, witches, and battlefield blood in this 2017 low budget feature unnecessarily co-directed by its co-writers. Leather, flags, and torn parchments set the period while helmets, armor, prayers, and pretty fields marred with dead provide bleak. Pilfering from the bodies escalates to two soldiers circling, fighting, and clashing swords in the eerie forest, but the shaky handicam is in too close and can't follow the hectic action. The script is also so light it's nearly nonexistent, leaving the spooky to rely on “unsettling music” closed captions and false crescendos. The hand to hand, running, hiding, and repeated confrontations also go on and on for fifteen minutes with nothing to show for it. After more enchanting woods, moss, and overgrown stone ruins; mysterious runes, talismans, and hooded figures finally appear. An abandoned encampment offers tents, tools, and maps, but viewers must watch both soldiers wander through it all without taking any supplies before more stand offs and debates about who's going to pull the trigger first. One insists there is something ungodly in this forest, so they suddenly get over their hate, decided to unite against the witch instead, and then sit by the fire in silence. The audience, however, has so little evidence of anything evil happening. Maybe in a straight drama we could wait, but when there has been no horror forty minutes into an eighty-eight minute movie, this snail's pace becomes ridiculous. When we finally do have a bewitching figure in a ravine, the night filming is tough to see. The best scares are just dream fake outs, and shadows in the tent happen so fast, we aren't even sure there is anything truly scary there. Our soldiers, however, are apparently so traumatized, they don't study the maps to find their way out or head off at first light. At this point, we'd rather have had the witch's perspective about how to get these guys off her lawn. We see more of them flipping out and facing their battle guilt because this is really supposed to be about male absolving, and destroying her stick figures is supposed to make them feel better. Even when they come to a clearing and have seemingly escaped, they still seek to confront the witch in a cave. The witch wastes time explaining why in the most dialogue yet here at the end, and while they couldn't shoot a man and she clearly isn't evil, they'll stab her to death with the quickness. This premise had a lot of potential, but it goes nowhere and nothing major happens. This felt so much longer, but with open and closing credits, this is actually about eighty-two minutes and you could fast forward and not miss anything.

Couldn't Finish It

We Summon the Darkness – It feels like we've seen these rad chicks on the highway before complete with music, talk of make up and sex, and it's 1988 via 2019 thanks to crimped hair, Madonna bangles, recent vehicles, and modern skinny jeans substitutes that look like dress up for the costume party. Gas station stops, old man innuendo, and televangelist fire and brimstone add to the cliché teases while convenient murder reports on the radio detail satanic symbols found at the crime scene. The jerks on the road are likewise weak with terrible mullets and everyone measuring each other's meddle with their metal head expertise gets old very fast. The flashing lights and concert bouncing up and down are also brief and lame tropes alongside the good girl peer pressured into everything cool and crazed, annoying exaggerations. Maybe if you look at this as a parody or if it had been a comedy the tone and style would make sense? The highway home to the rich house is instantaneous compared to drawn out start, and the Never Have I Ever chatting around the fire drinking binges goes on and on when it's obvious the guys want sex and the girls are disinterested. Who's really after whom and for what purpose turnabouts are interesting, but not unexpected thanks to the ritual foreshadowing and upside down cross jewelry leading to the drugged and bound. A gender reversal on the horror is supposed to stand out, but one girl's character development is that she has to pee all the time and everyone is stupid, unlikable, knife playing drunks. You see, this isn't really about the occult aspects, just a congregation trying to instill fear of the devil by committing murders that look like cult killings. Idiotic interrogations that waste time bothering to explain all this make the threats feel hollow, and I'm so, so tired of so-called righteous assholes giving decent people a bad name. We have enough of that at the top these days, so this didn't need to be set in an eighties Midwest for the religious hypocrisy commentary. In fact, it might have come across as something deeper if the first half wasn't wasted on faking period window dressing that doesn't work. Stepmothers, bloody bodies found, police chases, lone officers who don't call for backup, psycho daddy pastors – the contrivances just go on and on, escalating until I eventually stopped paying attention.

Mixed-Motivated Period Horrors

Mixed-Motivated Horror Period Pieces ??? 

by Kristin Battestella

😕😟😧

Yes, accurately describing these recent horror period pieces and their misguided, mixed motivations is a mouthful. I'm undecided on if they are good for the atmospheric mood they get right or bad for hampering themselves with shoehorned plots, conflicted structuring, and backward viewpoints.

You Make the Call!

Crooked House – This 2008 British miniseries from producer, writer, and star Mark Gatiss (Coriolanus) is combined as one ninety minute feature stateside, and the picture looks flat, older than it is with uneven sound and over-reliance on strobe splices as an excited museum curator tells a young history teacher about the now demolished 1585 manor once nearby, its disturbing reputation, and the eerie Tudor relics remaining. The setting is neat, but it's a lot of telling to start with flashes of hooded robes, torches, and rituals suggesting the real story lies elsewhere. Indeed this museum account is the anthology frame for more stories about our notorious home, which may work great for the three part event, but this feels misleading as an all in one feature. I actually didn't know it was going to be an anthology when reading the description and suspected some kind of twenties museum in a Tudor house with eighteenth century ghosts. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Fortunately, the 1786 past in our First tale “The Wainscoting” looks good with pipes, quills, candles, powdered wigs, and tricorn hats. Our noble has profited from a shady business scheme, and he wants the restoration on his newly purchased, notorious manor complete despite phantom blemishes and spooked, behind schedule craftsman who request a cat, for surely it's mice behind the paneling making all the strange noises. Paint won't cover the recurring stains, and angry widows cry that there's blood on his hands when the men he ruined end up dead. Not believing in superstition or ghouls, he stays up to prove there's nothing spirited about his re-purposed, morbid woodwork. Despite period mood, the rushed pace leaves little time to embrace the sordid history and horror opportunities. Flapper fun and bee's knees slang open the Second story “Something Old” but her ladyship Jean Marsh (Upstairs, Downstairs) isn't pleased with her grandson's poor fiancee. We get to know the characters quickly and the era is well done again, so it's odd these two tales are shoehorned in here when they could have been their own holiday horror specials. The conniving ex-girlfriend, a suggestive, jealous BFF dressed as a sailor, and a creepy bridal figure lurking about the party had potential for more depth and complexity as eerie searches and roaming the dark house reveal veils, dried rose petals, and a scandalous 1876 family wedding. Bad luck, curses, and knives lead to jilted ghosts and the gory truth, but a more immediate object or ancestral relations would have helped tie these stories together, compensating for the budget special effects, dark lighting, padding strobe shocks, and cheap production both chastising those ghost hunter shows while simultaneously imitating them. Our museum curator enjoys the delicious evils – giving away that the museum isn't what it appears to be – yet he's overly cryptic about the original necromancy. Now our teacher hangs the home's freaky knocker on his contemporary door, leading to alarm troubles, relationship problems, and phantom 3 a.m. callers in “The Knocker.” Sudden figures, ominous music, and transformative scares are best when they happen naturally without interfering effects. Increasing encounters, internet research, and library visits escalate to Latin rituals, sleeplessness, and an apartment that's starting to look like the infamous manor. Despite quality shocks, tokens that return after being discarded, and devilish hopes for an heir, this museum plot should have been all together as one finale rather than the intrusive frame. Instead of being a worthwhile topper, this awkward structure withholds the most interesting past pieces before dumping the gotcha in the final moments with no time for the audience to stew over the interconnected horror. The frame setting up the third story also means the two previous tales were just anecdotes that had little to do with the evil Tudor past we never even get to see. Although the parts are enjoyable, the uneven structure isn't a cohesive whole. The small, Christmas ghost stories vision never maximizes its embarrassment of riches when today this would be a star studded season of connected period fears.

The Miniaturist – A young wife moves to her new husband's seventeenth century Amsterdam estate in this 2017 three part BBC and PBS Masterpiece miniseries starring Romola Garai (Angel) and Anya Taylor-Joy (The Witch). Lovely canals, barges, brick exteriors, frocks, bonnets, and capes belie the suspicious sister-in-law, odd servants, and severe welcome. Flashbacks to her poor gentry family are rich with firelight and music, but despite fine woodwork, antique furniture, and warm colors, this household is shadowed and cold with large windows that must remain uncovered so the neighbors can see they have nothing to hide – especially sugar because sweets sickens the soul. The whispering, aloof seafaring husband, suspect relationships, and peering camera views invoke gothic red herrings a la Rebecca and Crimson Peak, and an elaborate dollhouse miniature of the home is meant to occupy our newlywed. She furnishes this house because she can't rule her big one, going to the strange titular shop when not making secret trips to the bakery and spotting a mysterious hooded woman in the streets. Suspicious deliveries with specific, detailed items she didn't ask for arrive with the lookalike miniatures amid arguments over getting in on that sugar business, complex guild politics, and delicate Puritan attitudes. Miniatures with secret luxuries, hidden compartments, and missing keys suggest their large size materials have the same – leading to forbidden chambers, love notes, candles, and bloody confrontations. More small warnings provide foreboding and culprits revealed, but sinners, lost loves, women's troubles, and through the keyhole spying make the second hour a more serious drama than the initial creepy mystery. The giving it away mystical and meandering scandalous become uneven with separate if enjoyable stories sagging in the middle hour thanks to obvious twists and doubts about what the spooky miniatures have to do with the Amsterdam period piece intrigue. Great homosexual angst deserved its own time, with phallic looking symbolic sugar cones, shady warehouse activity, heavy handed trials, and corrupt burgomasters who vicariously enjoy the sordid courtroom testimony. Inexplicably, the scandalous associations never sully our wife's reputation, and some numbers negotiating is all it takes to make her a shrewd business woman – which comes off as too modern and meddling. Confessions aren't so shocking when the viewer already knows what happened, and the miniature clues are completely forgotten until convenient. If a woman can take action herself then what was the point of the prophetic toys? Miniaturist? Irrelevant. Strong women? Inadvertently proactive. Interracial couple? Never seen together. Gay men? Not shown being gay. After all the back and forth, the abrupt end cuts off in hopes of a sequel – unfinished rather than leaving the audience wanting more. Maybe it's meant to be a coy wink to the observant audience paying attention and seeing all, but it's just a slap in the viewer's face compared to the expected supernatural on the tin. This has its moments, but it's unsure of its audience, deterring gothic viewers wanting more than the occasional ominous and annoying period piece fans who dislike spooky intrusion.

The Ritual – Robert James-Collier (Downton Abbey) and Rafe Spall (Prometheus) plan an all bros adventure in this 2018 Netflix original. None of that been there, done that will do, and hiking an obscure trail in Sweden becomes the honorary guilt trip after they stumble into a liquor store robbery gone wrong. This cliché start could have been skipped in favor of the brisk mountain trail memorial toasts directly, for we learn all we need to know thanks to out of shape complaints, new $200 hiking boots, sprained knees, and the realization that they didn't even climb very far and can see their luxury lodge from the pretty peak. Despite questionable maps, a faulty compass, rain, and no reception, they of course take a shady short cut through the ominous forest, and if we haven't seen this movie already, we've certainly seen others like it. Rather than the injured and another stay while the other two return for help, logical ideas, talk of bears, and abandoned items from previous campers are dismissed by these husbands and fathers who are a little too old to be acting so stupid. The unrealistic actions dampen the animal carcasses, thunder, and eerie trees as mysterious symbols and carvings lead to a convenient spooky cabin where they can stay the night. They break in, trespassing and ignoring runes and effigies they presume are “pagan Nordic shit” on top of strange roars and growling in the forest. Unnatural lights and distorted dream visuals intermix with bed wetting and sleepwalking frights, and in the morning the men follow a path they know is in the wrong direction just because it's there and nobody is supposed to talk about what's happening. More creepy cabins, monsters in the woods, screams, and blood begat missing friends and gory tree hangings before arguments, contrived guilt, and false hopes lead to torches, folk music, and chains. In the end suddenly brave men make big declarations about their wives when earlier they cowered, passed blame, and couldn't wait to get away from their families. We know horrors are going to happen, but the giving it away title spoils the supposed surprise. The ninety minutes plus feels overlong because it took so long to get to the creepy death warmed over people and actual sacrificial parts, yet the past looking rural and ancient mythology revelations are the story we should have had. Viewers don't get to completely see what could be an awesome monster, and the unique Norse legends, pagan worship, and immortal bargains that should have been the focal point seem tacked on after we wasted all that time watching dumb dudes literally going around in circles in a tired guilt versus the supernatural metaphor. The familiar, predictable derivatives are shout at the television entertaining, but it's tough to overcome the feeling that we should have been seeing the eponymous history perspective while these intruders get what they deserve.

Retro Sword & Sorcery Fun!

Retro Sword and Sorcery Fun!

by Kristin Battestella

Surprisingly well told tales, scantily clad ladies galore, or terribly juicy shlock – either way these vintage fantasy yarns provide some enchanting entertainment.

Erik the Conqueror – Epic music and coastal waves open this 1961 viking adventure directed by Mario Bava (Black Sunday) and starring Cameron Mitchell (How to Marry a Millionaire). Maps and scrolls hear tell of 786 A.D. Dorset invasions before longboats, bloodthirsty blonde giants, horses, axes, and village fires. Scottish rivals and coups against the British king separate the rescued viking sons, establishing the personal rivalries amid up close action and well choreographed sword fights. Although the long arrows, shields, crossbows, and costuming are probably inaccurate and the English audio and subtitles don't match, this is well filmed for its time and budget with red lighting, fiery forges, and tree motifs making the viking rituals wild and otherworldly. Festive dances to Odin by vestal virgins create pageantry – a touch of magic and fantastics contrasting the regal chorales, reverence, bright tunics, and trumpets of courtly England. The visuals parallel each brother's circumstances twenty years later with grand pink and gold interiors and wide overhead shots of the divine cathedral versus forbidden love and deadly tribunals as the vikings challenge one another in fights to the death to be the king's successor. Though apparent, the pagan and Christian conflicts don't beat the audience over the head, making room for the two fold man versus man, man versus nature, man versus himself layers alongside North Sea battles, onboard spies, and betrayals. Who's savage or civilized questions and nature versus nurture debates rise as the unknown to each other brothers switch locales, trade hostages, and swap babes amid seasonal feasts, daring escapes, and twin sisters. Sometimes the misunderstandings are bemusing – people wash ashore in exactly the right place or sail between the coasts with such ease yet the right pair can't quite both be in the right country at the same time. With all the open furs and bare chests, how has no one seen the brothers' matching tattoos? Fortunately, the tale becomes darker, intermixing its distinct worlds with green lit dungeons, spider booby traps, and evil villains making for some serious moments and dramatic twists. Rival rescues, castle raids, and a big battle finale keep what is actually a simple little story entertaining. The lively blend of historical, sword, and sandal does what it says on the tin with an extra touch of Bava panache.

Sorceress – Ye olde titles, epic music, torches, horses, and red hoods provide the fantasy atmosphere opening this 1982 romp directed by Jack Hill (Spider Baby) and produced by Roger Corman (House of Usher). Bad acting with clunky deliveries, poor dubbing of the laughable dialogue, and weird fantasy-ish names hamper the sacrifices to the gods, evil warlocks, and mystical old man in white before the usual celestial prophecies and enchanted infants growing up to exact warrior revenge for low budget village massacres and typical, unnecessary violence against women. Fortunately, there's barbarian action, women wearing inexplicable see through armor, and playmate twins Leigh and Lynette Harris skinny dipping before running in slow motion with their heroic theme and bemusing magical blue glow. Sure, they aren't doing a lot of the actual fighting thanks to sped up camerawork and compensating editing – despite the mystical girl power, their male pals come to the rescue, too. Also never mind that the ladies are supposedly disguised as men because clearly they are not, and likewise ignore any of the weak explanations on light versus dark magic, full moon rituals, and ancient temples. At only eighty-two minutes, there's no time to think on these fast moving, derivative quests complete with separation ambushes, evil princesses, fiery trials, and forbidden forests. Most of the precious little money here seems spent on the exotic bazaar with belly dancing, scoundrel princes, gambling, meddling hookers, and brothel brawls. Cruel sword slashes, arrows in the back, creepy red eyes, and horny beastly things stir up the saucy palace intrigue alongside magical green visuals, catacombs coming to life, and bewitching nectars. Twin connections, however, are able to overcome any deceptions or fire in their loins – the prince has the key to her “wonderful secret” but her moaning sister feels all the hot reactions! This could have been something if it had a proper production budget or a polished script, and not, you know, camp villains, monkey suits, or a convenient, borrowed, science fiction movie light show finale. These twin twists have fun with themselves, and if you don't expect anything, you can laugh at this late night, so bad it's good lark.

Split Decision

The Warrior and The Sorceress – Producer Roger Corman strikes again with this short seventy-seven minute 1984 tale starring David Carradine amid interstellar mercenaries, magic swordsmen, and rival clans. The flat print is VHS poor with low volumes contributing to the whispering olde speaketh meets eighties modern and mumbled made up names. The dawdling dialogue doesn't really get the story going, and already the ensemble seems so weary of the script they can't be bothered with the typical, thin premise of tyrants controlling water rights while poor villages suffer. Mountainous wastelands, bewitching babes wearing nothing but ribbons, mystical weapons, and suave hooded cloaks can't compensate for the cheap looking prehistoric walled city. This is taking place on another planet to excuse the abysmal, embarrassing production design, and the sword and sorcery meets Kung Fu knockoff tone makes this tough to watch. Fortunately, some of the aimless fighting can be fun, with Grasshopper chopping off arms and swiftly handling the jerky soldiers before the half naked dancing babes give him a bath at the well. The castle interiors are better, and fire, green lighting, red accents, and evil orgies create more magic atmosphere alongside poisoned supplies, gluttony, and vengeance. However, any kind of social commentary gets lost – most of the story seems to be missing amid muddled action scenes and meaningless mobs. Why is this devil may care warrior telling each side when it's their time to use the well? It's not mysterious if his angry scowling has no motivation; we don't know how this planet got this way or why. Terrible armor, lookalike dirty rag costuming, and crawling men captioned as “fools laughing maniacally” don't tell us much, and it takes half the picture before the too few and far between rescuing babes from dungeons, heroic music, reptiles, monsters, and a killer four breasted woman. Although this is disappointingly slow, dry, and lacking in personality, it could be a doze worthy midnight yarn if you like the campy and nonsensical.

Religious Viewing Round Up

A Religious Viewing Round Up

by Kristin Battestella

These movies, documentaries, series, and biographies tackle numerous famous names, spiritual places, and religious histories for some uplift or education near and far and for one and all.

David and Bathsheba –A written prologue sets the scene for this 1951 tale sourced from the Second Book of Samuel starring Gregory Peck (To Kill a Mockingbird) and Susan Hayward (I Want to Live!) as the Israel shaking titular couple. Yes, the cast is unfortunately white washed with stars of the day. The script also fails Peck by being too preachy, as if he has to repeat all of the Hebrew history onscreen to make the casting authentic after the fact. This waxing philosophical, however, and the wishy washy infatuations that come with it make for slow, non-interactive scenes – there's a lot of talking and not a lot of doing in what supposed to be such a passionate story. The scandalous for the time peaking at Susan Hayward bathing also isn’t much taboo today, and her somewhat flat delivery leads to more back talk then chemistry. What do you want? No, what do you want? Obligatory Ark of the Covenant appearances, tribal dancing for the court, stonings, Psalm 23 recitings, and Star of David emblems likewise lend more Hollywood stereotypical rather than historical accuracy. Though mid-century colorful, the small-scale designs can’t be compared to other Biblical epics like Samson and Delilah before or The Ten Commandments after thanks to modern hairstyles and obvious matte backgrounds. Fortunately, it’s nearly impossible to dislike Peck’s soft spoken and wise king in love. Although, audiences may find it difficult to believe such a traditional good guy would be so unscrupulous and shady. 3,000 year old spoiler alert – David sends his lover Bathsheba’s husband to the front lines so he'll die in battle. Intriguing thoughts on whether David is a fraud not living up to his predecessor Saul only provides background for a few scenes before Peck grows a beard and gets his crisis of faith burdens on in a final half hour of repentance accented by a lovely Oscar nominated score from Alfred Newman (The King and I). While this romance is again not on the same scope as other Old Testament yarns, fans of the cast can enjoy the performances here, and this fits in nicely for a religious marathon or classroom comparison and accuracy discussion.

The Great Works of Sacred Music – Everything from chanting and where we get the “amen” to Handel's Messiah and Christmas music is meticulously detailed in this 2015 sixteen episode series from the Great Courses Signature Collection. Professor of Musicology at Oberlin College Conservatory Charles Edward McGuire focuses on western Christian music from the Middle Ages to 1901, defining how originally sacred music used solely for worship has now become a mixture of concert and entertainment. Does it make the Latin chorales and canon hymns any less reverent if they are now heard in the concert hall? Ritual origins, strophic formats, melodies, and texts cross denominations or change to suit new religious needs, and our Professor sings with onscreen music measures while comparing and contrasting the syllabic, melismatic, and neumatic notes. Familiar tunes and memorable names such as William Henry Monk, Charles Wesley, and St. Augustine anchor debates on hymn structure, whether a trained choir or congregation is meant to sing, and what makes “hallelujah” such a special word. Twelfth and Thirteenth century chanting begets monophonic versus polyphonic mass music, Latin prayers sung, and innovative oratorios before Renaissance aesthetics pass into artifacts no longer heard in their original worship purpose. Despite a wealth of surviving medieval music, much of it is actually lost and unknown. What instruments were used? How many people sung this? How did this sound then? Differences between who could chant, such as those ordained or not, and Gregorian naming disputes fade as the Protestant Reformation brings new styles to the public and opera competes with sacred music for sponsors and patrons – forcing composers the likes of Monteverdi and Vivaldi to combine the minstrel with reverence at the turn of the seventeenth century. Mendelssohn details and Mozart Requiem samples highlight new accompaniments and arrangements alongside the increasing use of musical instruments, organs, and strings. Two episodes here are dedicated to Bach's Cantatas, moving his Mass in B minor pinnacle from sacred to concert repertoire complete with translations of Lutheran texts, Haydn's The Creation, and personal meets pious Christus am Olberge versus Missa solemnis Beethoven explorations. The nineteenth century somewhat anti-establishment music of Brahms and Verdi, however, gives way to a Victorian resurgence of longstanding carols – from the Latin origins of O Come All Ye Faithful and the Coventry Carol to the German Silent Night and surprisingly recent O Come, O Come Emmanuel – where anyone can lift up their voices. This is a very detailed breakdown of lyrics, notes, history, and composition not intended for a non-musical layman – this series is more for those already with a music background rather than an introduction piece. At forty-five minutes per episode, the sessions are somewhat long, padded with caveats explaining about what they are going to explain or even over-explain thanks to redundant melodies and repeated talk of one note differences that are indistinguishable to the common ear. One can easily zone out as the analysis goes deeper and deeper, however the pleasant music samples, familiar cues, and famous names call one back for more. These segments are superb for independent musical scholars or for a picking and choosing study honing in on specific composers. 

 

John Wesley: The Faith that Sparked the Methodist Movement – On location English tours, period maps, and religious artwork accent this documentary on the eighteenth century founder as scholars detail Wesley's early life and family background as the son of an Epworth rector alongside his younger brother Charles – two of ten surviving from a whopping nineteen! Onscreen writings and voiceover quotes recount his mother's methodical routine, theology, and home tutoring, which helped shape Wesley's early education before surviving a childhood fire left him seeking out his special purpose in life. Sports at Christchurch College in Oxford are traded for pious prayer meetings with brother Charles – mocked by other students as “The Holy Club” despite the group's mission to help the poor, support families with loans, and establish schools. By 1735, however, Wesley's inexperience and lack of faith lead to failure in America before Moravian associates strengthen his personal religious commitment. Wesley's new heartfelt ministry anchored in methodical beliefs, unfortunately, wasn't welcome by the Anglican church. Though he himself was initially appalled at open air meetings, Wesley's teachings from the outdoor pulpit allowed common people who couldn't afford to attend bigger cathedrals or religious schools to hear and embrace his ideology on salvation and grace through spiritual discipline. Wesley promotes the then shocking notion that people of multiple classes and stations can worship together by organizing small groups and societies where the faithful can uplift each other thanks to the non-ordained or women ministers. Such preaching seemingly against the Church of England led to mob threats and physical attacks on the Wesleys – who nonetheless remained Anglican. Wesley continued to write sermons and publications challenging authority – standing at a desk even though he was only 5'3 – and welcomed the illiterate to attend his services, for they could sing what they could not read. When his hometown scoffed at the open air churches, Wesley took to Bristol to build the first Methodist church in 1739. This “New Room” became a school, shelter, and chapel featuring Charles Wesley's hymns, and although Wesley never intended to set up a new denomination, the Methodist numbers grew into the thousands as missionaries and followers sailed to America. This presentation is a little older and slightly juvenile thanks to dramatizations from a film with bad effects and a terrible wig called Wesley: A Heart Transformed that unnecessarily stray into abstracts when facts from the experts and notes from the man himself are more interesting. Many may know the subject by name but not much of the details, and this hour is good for a Sunday School accompaniment or jumping off point for further biographical study.

Dated Split Decision

Enigma of the Dead Sea Scrolls – This 2009 hour chronicling the 2,000 year old documents opens with Jerusalem celebrations and brief recaps on the coming together of the Christian Bible before the eponymous 1947 Qumran caves happenstance. Unfortunately, rather than letting the facts speak for themselves or expanding on a peek inside the museum basement where only a select few can see the unpublished texts firsthand; the flowery, anecdotal narration bounces back and forth. The rough VHS looking presentation also remains terribly dated thanks to constant complaints regarding the secretive releasing of the documents, creating controversy and spending more time on people who refused to talk on camera. Then contemporary footage fill ins and second hand accounts invoke a tabloid, unauthentic feeling that points fingers about the texts before tossing in wartime history instead of discussing the actual scrolls. This briefly mentions the content of the parchments themselves, who wrote them and why with details on early Jewish and Christian sects before again downplaying the academic excitement with war time delays and unscrupulous dealers trying to profit from the discovery. The uneven, confusing narrative compromising interesting nuggets on copper scrolls, carbon dating confirmations, and questions on why the documents were hidden. The purpose here seems more angry at the wrongs rather than having excitement for the historic and religious value of the scrolls – as if conspiracies to suppress the materials are more important than potential Essenes origins, Masada connections, surviving pottery, and new restorations using high resolution photography. Although the Dead Sea Scrolls Wikipedia page has a much more detailed, organized timeline, there is a certain historical value in seeing the older footage here and how digital access for all has changed some of the cloak and dagger secrecy from decades prior. Some segments are also useful for the classroom, however the old fashioned tone and lacking of current facts creates a frustrating shortsightedness, leaving one in search of a deeper independent study.

Didn't Finish It

The Cathedral – State University of New York at Geneseo History Professor William R. Cook uses videos, animations, and photography to capture the architectural scale and magnificent awe of the eponymous but not necessarily all ecclesiastic buildings of Western Europe in this 2010 Great Courses twenty-four episode series. Explanations on the bishop's throne as a cathedra help define a cathedral at its simplest as a building with a cathedra in it before detailing how that role as a seat of the religious authority has changed since the earliest fourth century large scale worship constructions thanks to centuries of encroaching urban development and adaptations for contemporary use – not to mention the destruction or survival of many churches amid medieval upheavals, rebellions, or more recent wartime damage. High definition zooms highlight facade statuary, inner sanctum iconography, stain glass windows, and their past repairs or modern updates. The focus here is largely on French buildings with Romanesque styles and the evolution of the vaulted ceiling before Saint-Denis and the emergence of Gothic design, Notre Dame glory, and the peculiar cathedral at Laon. However, there are also spotlights on Chartres, English Norman meets Gothic developments, and Italian architecture. There is a lot of fast talking information here and at first I skipped around, as there are numerous tangents that leave you wondering what this has to do with the topic of the half hour at hand. Instead of being a fresh course made available thanks to new streaming technology, our Professor reminds me of a stuffy Ross Perot – some segments are forced to be at school dry or sermon heavy handed since he stands at a podium when other presenters in the Great Courses lectures are more relaxed. It's easy to zone out unless there is a picture, because I think most viewers would ultimately tune in here for the history of the featured buildings and seeing all the pretty architectural details. However, those purple ties and green shirts are kind of fun, and I might try Cook's 2014 follow up The World's Greatest Churches, as it seems to feature much more international variety from which to pick and choose.