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.

The Seventh Day

 

The Seventh Day is an Exercise in What Not to Do.

by Kristin Battestella

Young priest Daniel Garcia (Vadhir Derbez) is recruited by the Archbishop (Stephen Lang) to join unconventional Father Peter Costello (Guy Pearce) in exorcising a possessed boy in the 2021 Training Day meets The Exorcist horror tale The Seventh Day. Father Peter has his own rocky past learning the ropes from Father Louis (Keith David), but writer and director Justin P. Lange's (The Dark) film doesn't take it's own advice – suffering from thin storytelling and not so shocking giveaways.

1995 prayers, recitations, and Pope John Paul II footage open The Seventh Day as the crucifix is ineffective against rattling beds, child possessions, evil temptations, and terrible consequences. Though off to a disturbing start, wise horror viewers know where we're going from here. Demonic possession reports are on the rise across the country, and while the Vatican is generally against controversial exorcisms, a few dedicated rogue priests have vanquished in private. The Seventh Day does a lot of telling rather than showing – treating this intriguing history as throwaway exposition for our rookie's one day exorcism test. Evil is said to be clever, unpredictable, hiding in unexpected places, and ready to multiply, but the begrudging teamwork, contrived field exercises, and devilish ruses lead to ridiculously easy encounters. Characters don't mention a critical plot element about a boy murdering his family until they drive up to the crime scene, waxing instead on who's up to the task or cowering like a regular Sunday sermon priest. Our young Father can see flashbacks inside the killer house, but are these taunting visions, a conveniently intuitive recruit, ghosts, or just movie making magic? Though admittedly freaky, the apparitions noticing the priest watching them cuts off their clues, delaying what viewers can already deduce. They need proof of possession in this murder case for an official exorcism blessing, but the Archbishop already said this is unofficial and a little boy pinning down our young priest and talking creepy while our scared recruit shouts for help isn't that much evidence anyway. We know the movie making rites of exorcism and this is supposed to be Be Gone Training 101, however, the rules herein aren't clear – demon names are given freely, supernatural doorways open or close, and a Ouija board comes in handy. Although filming scenes out of order is expected, many sequences play as if they have no idea what was said in the scenes prior thanks to contradicting plot progressions, repeated character flip flopping, and everything thrown at the screen in world logic be damned. The Seventh Day detours with typical dark haunted house explorations, flashlights, and boo shocks under the bed. Flickering lights, spooky reflections, loud music, and killer montage visuals are for the viewer, not the character's experience, and weak, fiery flashes poorly frame the child trauma, eerie tapping, and possessed levitation. Priests inexplicably intrude on the police interrogations and psychological evaluations as gun toting cops are sent to handle the evil – because that's going to turn out so well! Buzzing alarms, growling effects, zombie police, and strobe corridors problematic for sensitive viewers add to the supernatural extraneous as The Seventh Day finally dons the sacraments only to drop the actual exorcism for whooshing across the floor, jump scares, and bathtub ghosts. Yet more cinematic contrivances in the last twenty minutes hand the characters the hello Agatha the audience has known from the beginning, and there's no devil lying to divide and conquer reverse twist on the twist or any deeper complex catharsis.

Despite a fast tracked academy record hailing him as their finest, Vadhir Derbez (How to Be a Latin Lover) as Father Daniel Garcia is admittedly anxious about his new position and immediately admonished by Father Peter. If he can't handle a day in the field seeking evil, how does Daniel expect to fight demons? Daniel can't answer why he wants to be an exorcist, yet he contests every exercise rather than being open to any tips and experience possible just because the plot say our priests must be opposites. Wouldn't you want to be on the same page against evil? Daniel can't spot the devils in disguise, worries about trespassing at a crime scene, and can't talk casually to people like even a regular priest should. He continually fails to see the bigger picture but changes his tune as The Seventh Day says, ready to do whatever Peter wants after a few scary words from a possessed child. Maybe viewers are meant to feel the disjointed jumping around as an in over his head whirlwind, but it's terribly frustrating when we pick up critical things Daniel does not. Rather than any kind of self awareness, his sullen approach and repeated mistakes become inadvertently humorous. There's no character growth, realizations, or recognition because Daniel doesn't suspect anything until the plot says he should. He falls for evil tricks and has the big twist pointed out to him in a montage, reciting helpful platitudes instead of the prayers and exorcism rites he's supposed to know so well. When faced directly with demons and a house of horrors, the audience finds it tough to believe Daniel can handle any attack, much less knows what to do with evil once it's released. The Seventh Day's focus on his rookie point of view is quite simply the wrong one, and the finale setting up some kind of sequel for him as a bad ass hunter killer priest out to save the possessed is unfortunately laughable.

Unorthodox Father Peter Costello is dismissive of these wet behind the ears priests and sends Daniel to get him coffee. He sings to the car radio, smokes, curses, and wears a funky patterned jacket rather than a clerical collar. Guy Pearce has a lot of exorcism exposition and Peter's edgy fast talking accent doesn't really give us much besides making him more harsh versus Daniel's timid. However he's upfront about his past exorcism failures and grizzled attitude. For Peter it's about settling the score not the greater good, and he flings the possessed around – a commanding exorcist getting serious with the rites. Audiences know not to underestimate Guy Pearce's kick ass and The Seventh Day lacks whenever he's off screen. Unfortunately, Peter's teaching methods are also total crap. He drives them all around town but sends Daniel in to chat with a demon alone while he reads a comic book in the waiting room. If this is such a serious case with a child at risk, why is Peter letting Daniel willy nilly learn on the fly? Such contrived actions break the viewer immersion, for it's easy to tune out when we know there is a built in answer in the script. Peter's training exercises are easy and random. Audiences wonder why he isn't just doing the dang exorcism. We have every reason to suspect why while the film ignores the inevitable, yet somehow Pearce almost makes The Seventh Day bemusing. He remains chill in the face of the preposterous, leaving sardonic clues even as Peter's pushing Daniel so hard one moment only to act concerned for him in the next scene. Although Pearce has had a string of missteps in our rueful 2020s, coughDisturbingThePeacecough, I don't mind his recent streak of making genre schlock. Guy Pearce has turned in enough excellent performances in quintessential, groundbreaking films, and I'm still going to watch everything he does, obvious cloak and disappointing dagger or not. Fortunately, there's still a certain deliciousness when as always, Guy Pearce gives us what we want – if all too briefly when The Seventh Day should have been about Peter's self-reflection and the burdens he carries. I'd eat that shit up if this had been a weekly silver fox Father Peter battling demons I can't lie.

Poor Archbishop Stephen Lang (Avatar) doesn't even get a name, and although he says the decisions aren't up to him...he's the one making the decisions? He also says he has hope in these desperate times but wonders if their new recruits can handle the increasing possessions before chastising Peter and Daniel for putting themselves in danger – when the Archbishop knows of Peter's risky methods. Such precious few contradictory scenes give no indication on whether he knows what's really afoot, and Keith David's (Gamer) Father Louis is also unfortunately brief despite his great delivery and presence. In fact, the Archbishop spends more time telling us what a faithful and courageous man Father Louis was, and if both were going to be so underutilized, they could have been combined into one character. Even after the 1995 opening, The Seventh Day still feels older thanks to boob tube televisions and big old cars. Smog, dirty concrete, retro jailhouses, dark roller rinks, and empty corridors make for a downtrodden, anonymous cityscape, however once we have a few opening aerial shots, we don't need padding overhead views for every scene transition. Voiceover wisdoms on the evil preparations acting like this is some kind of demon heist get old fast when we could have seen characters speaking. However it is amusing to hear not so angelic kids with F-bombs and foul mouths to match the distorted smiles, demonic voices, creepy tongues, eating glass, and dislocating jaws. Ominous echoes and rotten fruits accent burning flesh, cemeteries, and haunted houses, but the out of place vignettes try to up the scary ante with unnecessary, typical horror shocks. The Seventh Day's style is very generic with little pizzazz and arms length shooting more interested in moving on to the next scene – via an overhead shot of driving across a bridge – rather than focusing on the characters at hand. One might think names like Daniel i.e. the lion's den and Peter like the apostle cum first pope crucified upside down mean something, but The Seventh Day is surprisingly lacking in its ecclesiastics with no Legion Mark Chapter Five reference amid the demon army talk nor even a swine joke.

IMDb says The Seventh Day was written in ten days, and it shows. Rather than focusing on the scars of its elder priests, The Seventh Day deflates itself with a weak rookie element. Viewers are supposed to ignore any unreliable ambiguity until the film tells us we're supposed to be shocked, but long time horror audiences won't be surprised. While the premise is intriguing on paper, billing oneself as Training Day meets The Exorcist makes for a thin elevator pitch, and it's easy to suspect the twist in The Seventh Day when the trailers all but confirm it. Oops. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

Lockout (2012)

 

Personality Forgives Lockout's Derivative Stupidity

by Kristin Battestella

In 2079 when a breakout at the orbital MS One Maximum Security Prison endangers the President's daughter Emilie Warnock (Maggie Grace), Secret Service Chief Scott Langrel (Peter Stormare) sends framed ex-CIA agent Snow (Guy Pearce) to the space station to rescue Emilie amid airlock perils, shootouts, and insane inmates. Cryogenic conspiracies, stolen intel, and betrayals acerbate the escape as degrading orbits and ticking clocks countdown toward space battles, free falls, and revelations.

The first five minutes of 2012's Lockout are outstanding with humorous interrogations, spy intrigue, and character introductions setting the situation via intercut editing that matches every beat, quip, and punch. From cigarettes and lighters to guns and MacGuffins, everything has its place. We love the good guys, seethe at the bad guys, and are immediately invested in the adventure to come. Unfortunately, this entertaining start is followed by an unnecessary and ridiculously cartoonish motorcycle chase with terrible effects, fake highways, blurred movement, and nonsensical action so off putting and beyond amateur it's enough to immediately tune out on Lockout. No one trust anyone thanks to set ups, former and current CIA agents versus Secret Service authorities, clever clues, and scrambled memories making for gibberish and riddles. Exposition explaining the space station and unstable suspended animation slows the suspenseful chases, dangerous zones, colorful characters, and entertaining inmates – and this back and forth on the good and bad is indicative of numerous problems throughout the film. Secret experiments on prisoners, government bureaucracy, and global corporations up to no good may be important, but any shady controversies and deeper commentary are a superfluous second to the spectacle. Pieces of other films crowd Lockout, and calling this derivative is generous thanks to a laugh worthy “Based on an Original Idea by Luc Besson” credit and the subsequent lawsuit awarding John Carpenter for the obvious thievery from Escape from New York and Escape from L.A. Why not just have a framed agent en route to a space penal colony with a female reporter as disaster ensue? Although the inmate assaults and multi front attacks are intense, the bomb run to blow up the station dogfights are totally Star Wars. Viewers go along with contrived communications, medical trackers, and convenient maps because we'd shout at the television if people inexplicably knew where to go and what to do otherwise. The bookend heists aren't bad, but the original espionage is shoehorned in with reiterated clues underestimating the audience, and a thrilling adrenaline rush free fall finale has us yelling at the screen once more. Yes, it is actually possible to parachute from space, even though several have died doing so rather than landing safely on earth with the girl as Lockout would have us believe.

But you know, why are the villains Scottish? Joe Gilgun's (This is England) Hydell is wild, scuzzy, lusty, and creepy. He's impulsive, on edge, and a loose cannon jeopardizing every situation. Although the stupidity of a bodyguard with a concealed weapon in a restricted area is more to blame, Hydell's thieving smarts orchestrate the breakout. He presses the wrong buttons, shoots people at random, blasts consoles, prematurely sends a man out an airlock, and doesn't listen to his big brother Vincent Regan (300). Alex is the much smarter inmate, taking charge and making demands. He knows the hostages are the key to their escape, and though he talks to a negotiator, Alex will kill to prove his authority and slap sense into his baby brother. Scene chewing Peter Stormare's (Prison Break) gruff Secret Service Chief Langrel also enjoys taking over and flashing his credentials. He moves people how he wants but keeps information close to the vest. Langrel's only forthcoming in his hatred for Snow, and it's fun guessing what side he's on since he has no problem putting national security above anything else. Lennie James (The Walking Dead) on the other hand, is more forgiving of Snow as CIA suit Harry Shaw, offering devices, opportunity, and communication support as needed. Of course, he also wants Lockout's MacGuffin and needs Snow's help to get it. Once wounded and scared, Maggie Grace's (Taken) Emilie relies on Snow, too, but she has a few resources up her sleeve. Most importantly, unlike today's increasingly younger leading ladies, she's believable as an educated woman in a humanitarian position exposing shady cryogenic practices. Emilie's not afraid to speak out or act high and mighty about the hostages, but she has been sheltered as the president's daughter and it's upsetting to her that people have died for or because of her VIP treatment. Though in over her head, Emilie gets under Snow's skin, giving his humor and sarcasm back in cute moments where viewers expect a kiss and instead get punches in the face. Rather than romance, Emilie's kind of annoyed at being rebuffed. She's used to getting her way, and for all it's obvious lifting on other IPs, Lockout doesn't underestimate the audience with a weak, immature Mary Sue.

Truly, however, the only reason Lockout is worth watching is for Guy Pearce and Guy Pearce alone. Snow's dry charm, sardonic over it, and admittance that the whole thing is shit and he doesn't want to be there give Lockout it's repeat entertainment value. He could have phoned it in, but it's genius that Pearce keeps Snow self-aware rather than a heroic caricature. He smokes when everyone tells him not to and calls out the increasingly preposterous, giving guff back to the authorities and telling the big wigs to make up their minds. Their counting down to rush him into doing something won't help him get it done, but he'll flirt when he has the chance. To Snow, mouth to mouth is foreplay and he preferred the girl when she was dead and not hitting him in the head with a fire extinguisher. Although Snow's conveniently well versed in spacewalks, our ex-CIA agent is afraid of heights, misses jumps, and falls flat on his face. He's grossed out by needles and drinks the rubbing alcohol because he's cranky, sore, and too old for this. He was after all, the only jerk stupid enough to say yes to this mission. Snow's “Warning: Offensive” t-shirt confirms his insistence that he doesn't like anybody, but despite deflecting quips and shrewd punchlines – literally – he does grieve his friends. For all his bluster, Snow looks out for others at risk to himself, and when not playing dumb or deflecting with an acerbic wisecrack, he spots clues others don't or improvises on the spot. Serious moments partly explain his jadedness; people who have nothing to sacrifice can easily play saint while others get the wrap for things they didn't do or die while the supposedly more important folks take cover. Nonetheless, Snow says he has a rescue to do and did it well he might add – a meta wink as Pearce elevates every scene with surprisingly relevant asides that say exactly what the audience is thinking. Snow didn't have to be such a multi-faceted character, but his unique relatability saves Lockout. Is Pearce is so deliciously buff because he carries the movie? 🤣 Today this would be an ongoing franchise no matter how bad or cliché, and Lockout should have had a sequel thanks to Pearce's pithy performance alone.

Woeful motorcycle chase aside, Lockout's special effects and orbital action are surprisingly well done. Assorted spacecraft battles and station designs look the part thanks to panoramic flybys, retro corridors, picturesque windows, perilous elevators, and dark crawlspaces. Industrial platforms, cell block levels, and maze like interiors make the structure's scale and crowded inmate violence believable while flickering lights and flashing sirens accent steaming radiation zones and frozen airlocks. Granted the cyan patina and orange jumpsuits make for that pleasing, oft seen palette, but in Lockout the lighting scheme feels space authentic not over-saturated. Injuries look like they hurt, and although the medical procedures might not be accurate, the needle through the eye jump start looks cool – creating suspense with practical realism and future improbable just like the zero-gravity mano y mano. Of course, the special effects, gun fire, and action are very loud and the dialogue is soft or not always clear without subtitles. Overly heroic music cues are also on the nose as if Lockout is some grand epic not a cliche yarn. The contrived collision with the International Space Station is amusing, too. Do we really think the ISS will be going strong for another fifty years with the same recognizable old modules and tenuous treaties? Bulky spacesuits and once clever but already passe items like computerized hidden camera glasses and touch screen table surfaces provide chuckles, and the equipment meant to look old holds up better. Ironically, the on set footage in the behind the scenes features on the Lockout blu-ray is pretty fun. It's bemusing to hear the crew talk about that damn motorcycle scene, and Pearce is so gracious in saying he enjoys relying on his imagination to perform a technical challenge. It's okay, Guy, you can tell us if it felt damn silly leaning left and right while being held up by a crew member wearing green screen pajamas. The ending shot for Lockout, however, is unforgivable. Maybe it's supposed to be walking into the sunset of a dim future cityscape, but I'll be darn if it doesn't look like they are just walking off set where the backdrop ends.

A few minutes difference for violence cuts, squishing sounds, and extra blood squibs make a barely discernible change between the PG-13 theatrical version of Lockout and its Unrated blu-ray release. Lockout lifts from hard old school science fiction yarns but who is the audience when today's teens don't care about those R rated throwbacks? Mishmash storylines that could have been tweaked for the better rely on copycat material, and tune out worthy bad CGI is laughable in all the wrong ways. Lockout is an excellent example of how problematic plotting and preposterous flaws draw viewers out of otherwise fine world building, yet this is also the perfect statement on what performance can do. This is a great late night half pay attention to the best parts flick thanks to fun characterizations and likable personality that keep Lockout entertaining even when it doesn't deserve it.

Home Sweet "House" Horrors

 

Home Sweet “House” Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

These contemporary horrors both foreign and domestic tackle suburban scares, refugee horrors, technological terrors, family vengeance, and home haunts. Dust off the welcome mat!

His House – Horror follows a Sudanese couple relocating to England in this 2020 Netflix release starring Wunmi Mosaku (Loki), Sope Dirisu (Black Mirror), and Matt Smith (Doctor Who). Perilous refugee boats begat detention, weekly asylum stipulations, and finally a newly assigned address – a dirty tenement they are lucky to have all to themselves. Despite having already been through so much, our couple laughs until they cry over their gratitude, hopeful for a new start before eerie echoes and shadows that move by themselves suggest there is more afoot than faulty electricity, peeling wallpaper, and holes in the plaster. Well done lighting schemes and dim sunlight through small windows create a moody palette for the background apparitions, ominous hands, kitchen oddities, and eyes watching from within the walls. Flashes of past troubles, childhood fears of the night witch coming to get them, and new scary experiences build tension. Husband and wife both have encounters they don't admit, and tearful conversations with dark door frames in the background put the viewer on edge with our characters. We think we see or hear something rather than having everything given away thanks to flashlights, masks, tool mishaps, and disorienting figures in the dark. Cultures clash amid the horrors as our refugees struggle to be part of the community, reluctant to use tableware and getting lost in the maze of lookalike attached houses. Cruel neighborhood kids shout “Go back to Africa” and a kind but clueless doctor doesn't know how to listen to the pain of tribal wars, butchered families, and doing what you have to do to survive. Our couple insists they are good people but must remain on guard against deep seeded racism even in such crappy conditions. Lazy office workers complain that their falling apart house is “bigger than mine” so they shouldn't be dissatisfied and “biting the hand that feeds them” – forcing the fearful to retract any moving request and hide the truth about apeth witches and ghostly torments. Although the Dinka dialogue is unfortunately not always translated, it's superb that this is told from the appropriate angle. This isn't a yuppie white couple choosing to ignore the spooky house warnings just to get out of the city and play unreliable scares with the audience. Eerie visuals, surreal waters, fog, and candlelight visions combine the personal horrors, supernatural, and real world frazzled as the demands to repay what they owe escalates from wet footprints and flickering light switches to monsters in the floor. Deceptive happy moments and psychological experiences take us to other places without leaving the congested house – reliving why with upsetting revelations that can only be put right with blood. This is a tender story about living with your demons; an excellent example of why horror from other perspectives need to be told.

The Housemaid – Covered furniture, candlelight, staircases, slamming doors, and screams get right to the gothic afoot in this 2016 Vietnamese tale. The grand French plantation in disrepair is out of place among the beautiful forests – reeking with a deadly history of cruel overseers, abused workers, shallow graves, and angry spirits. Rumors of mad wives, dead babies, decaying corpses, drownings, and bodies never found provide horror as the titular newcomer obediently does the housework during the day before the power goes out at night. It's forbidden to speak of the dark family history, and mirrors, lanterns, and dramatic beds infuse the creepy with Jane Eyre mood. Arguments over sending for a distant doctor or using Eastern medicine for the wounded man of the house give way to sheer bed curtains, sunlight streaming through the window, and a touch of Rebecca in the steamy fireside romance. Unfortunately, a snotty, two-faced, racist rival addresses the awkwardness of the help pretending to be the lady of the house amid resentful servants, war intrigue, classism, and the vengeful ghostly Mrs. roaming the halls. The cradle draped in black rocks by itself, but it's only for effect as jump scare whooshes, flying furniture, roar faces in the mirror, dream fake outs, old photos research, and visions of the past create an uneven contemporary intrusion when the period atmosphere is enough. Roaming in the scary woods just for the sake of bones and panoramic ghouls is unnecessary when we should never leave the congested house. Indeed, the horrors are superior when anyone trying to leave the manor encounters a terrible but deserving end. Questionable retellings, confusing ghostly revenge, disbelieving interrogations, and flashbacks within flashbacks play loose with point of view, but a not so unforeseen twist clarifies the demented duty over love begating the horror. Some viewers may be disappointed that the movie trades one kind of horror for another and has too many but wait there's more endings. This has its faults and uses western horror motifs as needed to appear more mainstream rather than low budget foreign film. However, the social statement characterizations are much better than formulaic Hollywood scares, and the throwback Hammer feeling, period accents, and gothic mood combine for a unique horrors and drama.

Retro Bonus

The House by the Cemetery – Director Lucio Fulci's (The Black Cat) 1981 splatterfest starts with broken tombstones, an abandoned manor, and a topless babe fooling around among the cobwebs before bodies on hooks, sexually suggestive blades through the mouth, and bright red gore with intense zooms and pulsing organ chords to match. This is only eighty-seven minutes but after the fine prologue precious time is wasted with location resets, past murder/suicide exposition, new colleagues continuing the house research, visions of bloody mannequins, and terrible dubbing for a creepy kid unfortunately named Bob. Thankfully there's a certain self-aware humor as the real estate agent runs over a “damn tombstone” and details regarding the original homeowner, ahem, Doctor Freudstein come to light. Over the top crescendos and intercut flashes indicating horror connections are expected, but while preposterous, the frenetic bat attacks are well done with screeching sound effects, stabbings, lots of blood, and disturbing splatter hitting a child in the face. Photographs have an ominous girl in the window one moment then gone the next, and the bizarre kids are wise to the freaky and/or paranormal while the clueless parents argue amid layered suggestions, frazzled screams, and suspect glances with the beautiful babysitter. Antique clutter and noises in the night lead to nailed shut doors, inlaid headstones in the floor hidden under a rug, ghostly rattlings, and scary basements. Eerie lighting and practical gore add to the mayhem, fireplace pokers, and freaky eyes in the darkness; however Victorian flashbacks, repetitive if chilling scares, nonsensical padding that goes on too long, and late tape recorder research montages (when the whole thing was supposed to be about researching the house history) are certainly confusing. Coherent plots aren't as important as being scary cool, and this is exactly what contemporary formulaic horror does right down to the remote control car for jump scares. Fortunately, the haunts, monsters, nasty smells, maggots, and butchered revelations are so grotesque we don't even care why. Heads roll in a wild finale, and we recoil even as we chuckle at the dated derivatives and our subsequent modern knockoffs. This is an entertaining midnight watch for the head scratching bemusements and the horror it gets right.

Split Decision

Our House – Town panoramas, vintage vinyl, and the happy dinner table open this 2018 remake of the 2010 movie Ghost from the Machine, but our college son inventor puts projects before his parents' wishes. More overhead locales and driving to the lab montages waste precious moments when starting with the gadgets and a line about his family not understanding his electromagnetic induction theories would suffice. Despite the high tech possibilities and recent gear, the experiments have a nice eighties low tech touch with light bulbs, knobs, and dials. Family tragedy strikes, but the drama moves so fast we can't enjoy the personal dilemmas as the eldest struggles to raise his younger siblings three months later and the middle brother blames him for their parents' deaths. Unfortunately, yet more silent driving montages and aerial transitions make the concept thin; filler leaving dialogue and actual interactions too short. Spinning equipment and clicking machinery intercut with writing on the mirror and little girls talking to imaginary friends are fine suspense, but there isn't that much ominous smoke in the experiment nor all that many strange occurrences. It's understandable if the children are jumping to hopeful conclusions in their grief, but the daughter is only a swimmer for derivative bathroom timers and water frights when the mad science possibility is enough without shoehorned scares. An inventor trying to contact unseen energies is reluctant to consider any ghostly communications until an obligatory internet research montage and hair on the arms standing up electromagnetic explanations dumb down the fantastic. Amplifying events with loud crescendos drags the last half hour as the spirited metaphors are lost to typical horror shadows and whooshes – forgetting any internal logic for contrived neighborly detours and solving past house crimes. Even those annoying town scene transitions disappear as apparent post production changes thematically damage the family drama and any horror or science fiction grief. Not bothering to study the original experiment video for three months provides convenient revelations in the final act before getting the details from the old lady next door, making the end different from what this says on the tin yet predictable horror nonetheless. Perhaps this is fine for horror lite fans but there was potential for a deeper examination rather than typical scares underestimating the human connection.

Skip It

A Haunted House – I'm not a fan of found footage films, so this 2013 horror comedy parody from Marlon Wayans (Scary Movie) mocking the genre seemed like it would be fun. Plain text warnings of recovered recordings, assorted camera angles, and onscreen timestamps open the winks as the new camera and young couple moving in together don't mix thanks to his dog, her boxes, his arcades games, and her dad's ashes. Affection, sass, and bemusing stuffed animal foreplay are ruined by hair in curlers, open bathroom doors, and awful farts in the night – making for refreshingly real relationships and humor. No blind spots in the video coverage means catching the maid up to some saucy, and racist, voyeuristic security camera guys want your passwords. Fetishizing friends want to swap, the gay psychic wants to know if they've had same sex encounters – all the white people are envious opportunists and that's nice to see in a genre so often dominated by such caucasity. Sleepwalk dancing and what happens during the night silliness caught on camera escalates with getting high and mocking the usual sheets, smoky imagery, whooshing, and Ouija boards. Our couple jumps to conclusions about the haunting over noises, misplaced keys, doors moving by themselves, and kitchen mishaps, but neither is a catch and a lot of incidents are more about their own faults and problems. They probably shouldn't be together horror or not, and some of the not addressing their own issues is too on the nose serious or uneven alongside the humor. The misogyny is akin to women often being haunted and not believed in horror, but nothing is scary because the overtly comedic attempts are out of place against the formulaic encounters. There's an imaginary friend, pervert ghost, demons, a deal with the devil for Louboutins, and the final act is an old hat exorcism meets Poltergeist parody crowded with male ghost rapacious and more unnecessary homophobic jokes. There's promise in how the camera brings out the voyeur in us all, changing us once we're in front of it by revealing our true selves or why we're weary of the lens. A taut eighty minutes with bemusing commentary on the genre's flaws could have been a watchable, but the dumb and offensive shtick goes on for far too long – becoming the monotonous horror movie it's trying to send up thanks to a surprising lack of personality.

Science Fiction Meets Comedy!

 

Science Fiction meets Comedy

by Kristin Battestella

From all out parody to quirkiness and cosmic puns, each of these retro, recent, or blockbuster science fiction tales provide an element of humorous entertainment.

Return of the Killer Tomatoes – It's tomato prohibition in this 1988 sequel to Attack of the Killer Tomatoes starring Anthony Starke (The Magnificent Seven), George Clooney (Michael Clayton), and John Astin (The Addams Family). Self-aware late night movie hosts almost air Big Breasted Girls Go to the Beach and Take Their Tops Off instead, adding then PG-13 saucy to the MST3King itself meta before it was meta. The secret word of the day is “the,” creating an impossible drinking game to match the preposterous Professor Gangreen mad science, lab experiments, tomato tests, and pizzas with some, umm, interesting topping combinations sans tomatoes. The younger generation rolls their eyes at elders treating The Great Tomato war as some St. Crispin's Day glory, flashbacks captioned as “New York City” have San Francisco trolley cars, and call ins ask why they keep showing scenes from the first movie. There are world domination plans to place plants from within the police right up to president, and bad special effects, red lights, green glows, a fuzzy friendly tomato, and a snake named Larry join the handsome assistant Igor. Reporters shame and berate witnesses on the air yet everyone wants to be on camera, and romantic interludes on the beach get ruined by a mime as the fourth wall is often broken thanks to tomato bootleggers, Valerian root powder, and inquires on if it's too late to have a movie chase. Let's yell “Tomato!” in a crowded restaurant and point at the “tomato lover” because tomatoes are evil – a good tomato is a squashed tomato! The within within life imitating art comes to a head with behind the scenes interruptions; they are out of money so the cast and crew are now incorporating product placement right down to the cereal box between the two shot conversation. Rednecks with beer, ninjas in black fighting cowboys in white hats, and “Vigilance is the Price of Freedom. Report any suspicious vegetable activity.” Uncle Sam posters escalate to luxury construction at the toxic waste dump, prison escapes for golfing White House aides, Soylent Green homages, and an interactive Frankenstein. Once the stars ask if they have enough money to finish this turkey, the product placement begats celebrity spoofs, music knockoffs, and killer countdowns with a scoreboard and referee. Fortunately, a page from the script is handy to write a note on asking for help and shootouts result in ketchup. Layered dialogue and visual gags send up everything possible in every scene, requiring multiple viewings for all the laugh at its corny self in on the joke ridiculous. While certainly endearing for those who loved this then, today this remains an enjoyable eighties comedy that's surprisingly intelligent and ahead of its time.

Space Station 76 – Patrick Wilson (Bone Tomahawk), Liv Tyler (Lord of the Rings), Matt Bomer (White Collar), and more are all aboard for this 2014 retro futuristic seventies wink, and we immediately feel the groovy thanks to the deliberately old fashioned space shuttles, colorful special effects, bright white corridors, and spinning station design. Rather than psychedelic in your face weird, the flashing lights, lasers, and saucy visions are pleasing to today's HD eye. Vintage panels, knobs, analog gizmos, mid century plastics, viewfinders, cigarettes, ash trays, wild wallpaper, and roller skates accent the rec room luaus and awkward cafeterias as the interconnected relationships, hidden sexuality, and affairs leave plenty of foots in people's mouths. Between the undefined jobs the crew does poorly, bored housewives, lingering hippie mentalities, waterbeds, and confined interiors a lot can happen. Our incoming career oriented female officer doesn't fit in and can see the going through the motions situations. There are children on board, however the vain and manipulative parents are more interested in Valium, porn magazines, and robots because it's easier to interact with machinery and automation than build healthy relationships. Some remember growing up on earth and doing things for oneself versus space-bound reliance, but the should be idyllic futuristic bliss only creates an inability to cope. One can't even kill himself by dropping the retro radio into the bathtub because the system corrects the overloaded circuits. Naturalistic conversations provide annoyed, off the cuff sardonic socializing attempts while subtle humor – like using the arboretum to grow pot and a robotic hand getting stuck gripping a boob – alleviates any potential tenderness. The ironic, feel good classic soundtrack matches anti-gravity moments enjoying the space faring circumstances, but arguments and lies lead to contrived Christmas parties, stranded consequences, and embarrassing secrets. They are stuck with where and who they are, and somehow have to make the best of it. Although this might have been interesting as a series, the refreshing R zany but not laugh out loud doesn't overstay its welcome. I'm surprised this movie isn't more popular, as other comedy science fiction shows are full blown sends ups, but here the quirky framework anchors serious, well done characterizations. Rather than making fun of the era, the kitschy innuendo helps create a façade for the interpersonal issues, jobs over emotions, and loneliness. This is a touching little film with bemusing nostalgia and social commentary, but labeling this a comedy isn't quite fair once the drama hits too close to home, for we too have technology replacing human interaction and it is far from perfect.

Thor: Ragnarok – Taika Waititi (What We Do in the Shadows) directs the titular Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston (Only Lovers Left Alive), and Tessa Thompson (Westworld) in this 2017 Marvel sequel exploding with eighties sci-fi homage, edgy rock tunes, retro video tours, Willy Wonka notes, flashy colors, and intergalactic flair. Unlike the morose fantasy of Thor: The Dark World; industrial trash, damaged spaceships, and beer are rough and wild – matching the caged and chained Thor as he waxes on his heroic status, the new lack thereof, fiery attacks, and lightning displays. Asgard is in peril, but dramatic choirs and rewritten odes starring Matt Damon (Interstellar) and the delightful Anthony Hopkins (Hannibal) as Loki pretending to be Odin lead to Norway goodbyes, somber conversations, and family regrets. Thanks to trailer giveaways and obvious foreshadowing, there aren't many surprises, but the locales proceed quest-style with friends or enemies along the way including Benedict Cumberbatch's (Sherlock) Doctor Strange and the scene chewing Cate Blanchett (Elizabeth) as the unleashed Hela, Goddess of Death. Visual tricks, sight gags, and umbrella disguises accent the superhero send up as Thor is dragged by his cape and put in his place. Mark Ruffalo's (The Normal Heart) gladiator Hulk and the campy Grandmaster Jeff Goldblum (Independence Day) add personal banter, self-aware charm, and even flirtatiousness thanks to hot tubs and green butt shots. The battle action CGI can be busy, herky jerky messy where you can't see anything, however unique Valkyrie flashbacks, mystical elements, and slow motion superhero cool moments set off the hidden Asgard history, giant wolves, and undead lairs. Unfortunately, it gets a little old when there's a quip, humorous aside, and lighthearted tension breaker interrupting every serious scene. Asgardians are literally being butchered while we're being told to laugh with distracting, gif-able wisecracks. This uneven back and forth between the violence and the refreshing reboot undercuts Hela's threats – leaving us to wonder if we even need the eponymous destruction when this could just be about The Revengers and their baggage escaping Sakaar, cool cool. After spending most of the time here mocking the previous Thor films, the end heroics are ironically played straight and the characters remain more important than the action. While the irreverent attitudes and flippant comedy in the wrong places could have chilled, this doesn't follow typical Marvel patterns. Thor needed to change it up, and the entertainment moves fast for fans as well as viewers looking for something different.

For some ~ serious science fiction discussion ~ also consider two Great Courses programs How Science Shapes Science Fiction and How Great Science Fiction Works. I was too busy paying attention and didn't take notes!

More at InSession Film!

 

Yes, we've been moonlighting again at InSession Film!

Stop on by for more of our Classic Film reviews, Top Ten Countdowns, and Op-Ed Critiques including:

Top Ten Marilyn Monroe Essentials

Top Ten Tom Hiddleston Essentials

Hud: A Cowboy Catharsis Classic Movie Review

Op-Ed: Recapping Daniel Craig's Tenure as James Bond

Op-Ed: The Inability to Quantify Guy Pearce

The Podcast Season has also begun at HorrorAddicts.net! Be sure to follow @HorrorAddicts13 so you can hear my Frightening Flix Beat. We have so many diverse voices joining us this season! 

Kindred: The Embraced

What Could Have Been with Kindred: The Embraced

by Kristin Battestella

Based partly on the Vampire: The Masquerade role playing game, Fox's 1996 Kindred: The Embraced is an eight episode miniseries cut short despite enticing vampires and gothic atmosphere. Ventrue vampire Julian Luna (Mark Frankel) is prince of San Francisco and ruler of the Kindred clans – a precarious alliance between Lillie Langtry (Stacy Haiduk) a Toreador nightclub patron, underground Nosferatu Daedalus (Jeff Kober), and Brujah mobster Eddie Fiori (Brian Thompson). Their masquerade to live among humans is threatened by detective Frank Kohanek (C.Thomas Howell) and reporter Caitlin Byrne (Kelly Rutherford) – who falls for Julian, further complicating the interconnected love triangles and vampire peace.

Rooftop chases at dawn open the hour plus premiere “The Original Saga” alongside quick detective exposition and gunshots intercut with ledge leaping culprits, stakings, and victims set on fire in the sunlight. It's a very nineties, busy start crowded with back and forth cop and vampire perspectives. The charred body is enough to start the investigation without the cheap action, and you need a flow chart to figure out who everyone is thanks to the world building and clan intrigue dropped in the dialogue – who belongs to the Gangrel gangs or Brujah mobsters, who's moving in on another Kindred's territory, which ones abide by the masquerade rules to hide from humans, which clans are loyal to whom. Fortunately, the steamy vampire dinner date with steak very, very rare leads to one drop of blood on the white dress, sneaky scalpels, morgue drawers, and chilling kills. One on one conversations and hypnosis add to the tasty and sensuous, invoking the gothic atmosphere amid graveside vigils, moody mirrors, and shaving mishap temptations. In its early hours, however, Kindred: The Embraced is dominated by guests of the week and newly embraced vampires when the main Phantom of the Opera forbidden romance in the third episode “Nightstalker” is a much nicer bittersweet. Uneven A/B plotting and sagging police arguments hamper the superior Kindred stories as vampire killers are held for psychiatric evaluation. There's a fine line between schizophrenia, blood lust, enchantments, and predators. Saucy shadows reveal our Kindred ills and charms as precarious clan war talk escalates to action halfway through the series – finally turning Kindred: The Embraced where it needs to go with guns drawn, vampire standoffs, and mob strong arming that should have come much sooner than the sixth episode, “The Rise and Fall of Eddie Fiori.” The Kindred front at the Dock Workers Union seems pedestrian and this arc was made to wait as if it were less important than the police plots, but clan peace is bringing down the business for Brian Thompson's (Cobra) Brujah leader Eddie Fiori. The Brujah clan prefers carnage to reason, and Eddie sets ups crimes only to act like the Kindred would be safer if he were in charge. Shapeshifting killers, head choppings, decoys, stabbings, and assassination attempts caught on camera provide enough gothic horror without resorting to more of that intrusive cop drama. A vampire using a private investigator is unnecessary in a blood feud, but it's superb when the rival ladies get to sit face to face as the Kindred point fingers over who has blackmail photos or is sleeping with a journalist. Council meetings and swords resolve any broken vampire rules – damage the peace and you will pay.

Ironically, the wire tapes, moles, and crazy cops in the second episode of Kindred: The Embraced “Prince of the City” contradicts the pilot movie. You wouldn't know this show was about vampires as enemies suddenly become friends over a cup of coffee and traitors are discovered or forgotten from one scene to the next. It's a terrible entry and probably deterred a lot of viewers from continuing with the series week to week. “Live Hard, Die Young, and Leave a Good Looking Corpse” is also a great title, but an anonymous, obnoxious Kindred is embracing groupies and leaving them in the streets, again wasting time when the regular players have so little. Kindred: The Embraced could have opened with a newly turned against her will vampire learning the ropes point of view, but debates that could delve further into such assault parallels somehow end up boring and repetitive here. Police dismissing the monster stole my baby claims in the second to last hour “Bad Moon Rising” are unnecessary, too, as evil and ugly Nosferatu vampires abducting babies for blood sacrifices and Druid rituals are terrifying enough. Our vampires fear this banished Kindred wishing to return the clans to a more primitive sewer dwelling state no masquerade needed. Why demand vampires wear suits and drink blood in wine glasses when they can take it all? Kindred explaining their own rules to a sneering cop every single hour gets old fast compared to female Nosferatu, Carmilla references, chains, and ceremonial blades. “I only drink red” quips and garlic braids in the kitchen winks add to the Kindred: The Embraced mythos – some vampires can feed and go out in the sun while others gain more powers under the full moon. Direct questions about who's making love or poisoning whom lead to tender moments among humans and vampires waxing on whether it's them or us who are the real monsters. Suave Kindred fang out for both moonlit showdowns and juicy fireside passion as rivals try to exploit the clan war opportunities while the prince is away at the vineyard in “Cabin in the Woods.” Angry Brujah are determined to put bodies in the empty family cemetery plots while hooting owls, creepy forests, and eerie fog accent fiery flashbacks, attacks in the woods, white wolves, and Kindred truths too fantastic to believe. Past betrayals coming to light and vendettas are revealed, but only the precious healing blood can save the sacrifices and sad choices. Here at its end is where Kindred: The Embraced finds how it should have always been.

Of course, the series should have never strayed from it's true and unfortunately gone too soon star Mark Frankel (Leon the Pig Farmer) and his Kindred prince Julian Luna. He keeps a tenuous peace between the clans, but Julian's conflicted about being their judge, jury, and executioner. Despite his slick widow's peak and cool control, it's easy to see what gets to him, as Julian continually protects humans and associates with the descendants of his family from before he was embraced. He makes others toe the line about the masquerade yet Julian is sentimental himself, often going with banishment or failed punishments that force more finite, deadly resolutions. Although everyone tells him otherwise, Julian thinks we all can coexist, and he actually might not be that great a leader if his rivals can push his buttons with personal vendettas in hopes of inciting a full out clan war. Fortunately, Julian is nothing if not shrewd. He commands loyalty and respect, orchestrating ploys against his enemies that leaves them out in the sunlight and begging to get into his trunk. No matter the pain or peril to himself, Julian does what he has to do to keep the peace above all else. He admits he was a violent henchman in the past, but his loves and human attachments make Julian want to be a better man. Journalist Kelly Rutherford (Melrose Place, but with whom I always confuse Ally Walker from Profiler, and also with Amanda Wyss briefly on Highlander: The Series. Nineties genre blondes, man!) is writing an article about Julian being a mysterious and powerful businessman, but he never gives interviews. He buys the newspaper and makes Caitlin editor, but she doesn't sit behind the desk, seeking out the hot cases herself and dismissing the spooky connections that lead back to Julian. Caitlin struggles to listen to her conscious when he's around, foolishly more curious despite how little she knows. The relationship is stagnant at times, never really advancing until the finale, but the chemistry forgives the blinded by love stupidity as truths and tearful revelations make for well done human versus vampire emotions. Stacy Haiduk (SeaQuest DSV) as Toreador leader and Haven club owner Lillie makes loose alliances as needed, using her allure for power, jealousy, and to support the arts. Her club is a sanctuary and Lillie saves a young musician with her embrace, but rock stars aren't super discreet. She protects the wrong vampires and Julian insists they are no longer lovers but she makes her presence known by spying on Caitlin when not biting, flirting, and having her dalliances, too. Ultimately, Lillie still loves Julian and dislikes when he lies, expecting the truth after what they've been through together. This is a complex character – Lillie will stab a person in the back and do it with a smile and we don't blame her. She deserved more time and Haiduk's eyes are fittingly enchanting I must say.

Detective C. Thomas Howell (The Outsiders) is top billed on Kindred: The Embraced, but Frank Kohanek is a terribly over the top eighties does forties cum nineties generic copper. The edgy delivery and angry scene chewing jars with everything else, and point blank the series would have been better without him. Frank starts so full of hate and thinks all vampires are monsters even as he is helped and protected by Kindred, but turns a vampire killer over to Julian because his law can't handle them. His entire police element is unnecessary since the Ventrue already have Erik King (Dexter) as their inside cop Sonny, but he isn't featured half as much. Sonny's reveals happen way too soon, leaving him to ride shotgun with Frank as the stereotypical Black cop partner, and Kate Vernon's (Falcon Crest) seductive Alexandra also has her melodrama cut short when Kindred: The Embraced sets up her supposedly great romance with Frank but then tears it apart in one episode. Channon Roe (Bio-Dome) as perpetually scowling Gangrel biker Cash doesn't think being embraced is all it's cracked up to be, and he's actually not that good of a bodyguard because he's always making moon eyes with leather jacket bad girl Brigid Walsh (Army Wives) as Sasha. Although the motorcycle double entendres are cliché, Julian doesn't want his last human descendant to be embraced, forbidding the romance between Sasha and Cash. She doesn't believe the hear tell monstrous, but Sasha is quickly caught between the love of one clan and the hate of another. We know what to expect from an episode named “Romeo and Juliet,” but the secret rendezvous, gang killings, and family payback does what it says on the tin in fitting vampire style and shows what Kindred: The Embraced can do. Jeff Kober (China Beach) is immediately excellent as the Nosferatu leader Daedalus, decrepit and living underground but suave in a smoking jacket as he does Julian's dirty work. Daedalus loyally does the series' scary with a calm and quiet chill but falls in love with a beautiful singer. The “Nightstalker” hour should have been devoted to him, and we notice his absence in weaker episodes. Kober isn't made up to be that much of an ogre, but Daedalus is ashamed of his own clan and dabbles in alchemy to enchant and change his appearance, for who would love him? He disposes of a nasty vampire doctor for hurting children and befriends an ill boy who asks if he is a monster. Daedalus wants to embrace him, but it is of course against the rules. It's another fascinating dilemma that deserved more time on Kindred: The Embraced but c'est la vie.

Although there are no subtitles on the two disc DVD edition of Kindred: The Embrace and the full screen picture is flat; unlike today's overly saturated digital grading, the night time scenes aren't uber dark thanks to practical lighting and ambience. Some shaky cam zooms and herky jerky handheld aren't so smooth now, but contrived police action is brief and choice dolly zoom horrors and great vampire eyes forgive poor fire effects. Picturesque Golden Gate Bridge scenery and San Francisco skylines at dusk contrast charred bodies, morgue toe tags, lunar motifs, and wolf overlays. Lavish wallpapers, draperies, artwork, water fountains, and grand staircases make up for that then luxurious nineties pink marble while creepy underground lairs, candelabras, and scary paintings create an edgy industrial. Red silk, purple satin, crushed velvet, and suave men's suits provide allure; women's fashions are both nineties runway sheer and flowing old fashioned with tantalizing slips and camisoles rather than then taboo nudity. Beheadings, skulls in the incinerator, heartbeats, and flexing jugulars provide chills while brooding nineties music invokes a sexy, classy simmer. Stained glass ruins, graves, greenery, and roses create a sensuous, romantic melancholy as Kindred: The Embraced remains a fine mix of modern debonair and gothic mood. That beeper though with the fake giant screen and super easy to read analog text...lol. With eight different writers and six different directors, obviously no one thought of having one cohesive narrative back then. Maybe twenty-five years ago cross medium interactive content was unfathomable, but today such a franchise with books, games, official social media, and RPGs would be massive. Kindred: The Embraced was caught in the middle – a series that didn't stand on its own but nor did it satisfy the built in audience of Vampire: The Masquerade. Having gaming source material may have even contributed to viewer confusion as Fox shuffled the airings around and potentially out of order episodes seemed lacking in information. Of course, had Kindred: The Embraced stuck to its roots instead of wasting time with nineties cop show intrusions, the vampire love triangles and intriguing clan wars wouldn't have been so crowded. Revelations that could take several seasons happen in the first hour, and it's tough not to shout at the what ifs and ponder what Kindred: The Embraced could have been. Fortunately, Kindred: The Embrace is easy to marathon, remaining entertaining as a fun introductory piece for younger horror lite audiences as well as vampire fans and nostalgic viewers looking for gothic panache.