kindertrauma

Category: General Horror

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Posted on By unkle lancifer

BODY SNATCHERS (1993): Jack Finney’s 1954 science-fiction novel INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS inspired an entire sub-genre of film that seems endlessly relevant no matter the time period. There’s just something about the suspicion that once interesting people are being silently replaced by braindead automatons with zero sense of humor that feels completely relatable. In the early nineties cult filmmaker Abel Ferrara took a stab at the pod people invasion tale this time adding themes specifically concerning the conformist nature of militarism. Due the film’s limited setting on a military base it doesn’t quite achieve the goal of convincing viewers of a global threat but thanks to an exceedingly strong cast, updated effects and Ferrara’s natural leaning toward noir-level nihilism, it’s still effectively chilling (I may be a bit biased as one of my very first truly terrifying experiences in a movie theater was watching Philip Kaufman’s 1979 ultimate take on the material which frankly, still haunts the back of my mind to this day). One thing that is absolutely not debatable in regards to this loose franchise entry is the top tier, extraordinary, ice-pick sharp performance by Meg (ONE DARK NIGHT, PSYCHO II) Tilly who offers a record scratching, nuclear bomb-drop admonition that unnerves straight to the bone. Props to the whole cast (Gabrielle Anwar, Forrest Whitaker, R. Lee Ermey and CHILD’S PLAY 2’s punky Christine Elise all excel) but Tilly really nails it and is downright inimitable.

THE DELIBERATE STRANGER (’86) & TO CATCH A KILLER (’92): Who would have thought two of the greatest (and most frightening) films concerning serial killers would be made for television affairs? The format allows the proceedings ample room to breath and stretch and the added patience in relaying the incidents allows you just that much more time to spend with those involved (for better or worse). In THE DELIBERATE STRANGER usually jovial Mark (yay, SUMMER SCHOOL! Mind over matter!) Harmon portrays slippery charismatic killer Ted Bundy with a straightforward butter wouldn’t melt quality that is remarkably restrained and is all the more disturbing for it. He makes it all to easy to understand why someone might make the fatal mistake of trusting such an individual. It’s a performance that makes the miniseries’ 188 minute runtime fly by and rightfully earned Harmon a Golden Globe nomination (dude shoulda won). 1992’s TO CATCH A KILLER features barrel chested everyman Brian Dennehey as John Wayne Gary and let me tell you, he drags the viewer far far away from the cable staple comforts of FX and FX2 (In fact, I’ll likely never watch those films the same way again)! Dennehey is straight up mortifying as Gacy, the emotionless small business man who sometimes dressed as a clown and sometimes tortured young men to death (thankfully not depicted on screen here) and buried them in the crawlspace under his house. This film makes sure you feel the heartbreak experienced by those who lost loved ones and stokes plenty of frustration in law enforcement and how long it takes some folks to add two and two together. Also on board are two legendary horror heavyweights; Meg Foster is in full LEVIATHAN (’ 89) mode as an icy (those eyes help), bureaucratic attorney who is slow on the obvious uptake and the great Margot Kidder portrays an empathetic psychic (displaying an unusually sad and vulnerable side of herself). Dennehy was nominated for an Emmy for his performance which seems to radiate evil in its purest form at times and honestly, petrified me to my very core.

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU is a 1998 made for television post-SCREAM slasher based on the book GALLOWS HILL by our old pal Lois Duncan (SUMMER OF FEAR, I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER, KILLING MR. GRIFFIN) that did not make much of a dent in the world even though it stars the likes of Sarah Chalke, PUNKY BREWSTER herself Soleil Moon Frye, Ben frickin’ Foster, Neve Campbell’s bro Christian and the ever remarkable late Markie Post. Chalke plays Sarah Zolttanne a confirmed outsider who is new to a small town with a shameful history who may or may not be a descendent of a disgruntled witch who was once burned at the stake and (as one does while being burned at the stake) cursed the town and particularly the lineage of all who thought it was somehow acceptable to LIGHT HER ON FIRE based on rumors and unsubstantiated hearsay (oh, will small-minded, spiteful townspeople never learn?). I’m gonna guess this flick is a far cry from what Duncan had in mind but it’s tons of fun, makes for a nostalgic time capsule, sports surprisingly stylish direction and has a killer dream sequence. And again, above all else, features Markie Post.

WISHCRAFT (2002) is yet another SCREAM-wannabe and what it lacks in logic and artistry it makes up for with a surprising level of all around weirdness. It’s quite the odd blend of slasher mystery (complete with creative kills), quippy jokes that never land and moralistic supernatural horror. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I guessed the identity of the killer completely wrong but the revelation is a satisfying one and the resulting showdown is amusing and nicely done. Michael Weston (CHERRY FALLS) has the honor of playing a character named Brett Bumpers a high school nerd with eyes for a gal named Samantha (Alexandra Holden of the impeccably awesome DEAD END (2003)) who is (we’re told) very much out of his league. No problem, because he also recently received a mummified bull penis anonymously through the mail that grants him three wishes (yes, you read that right). Anyone who has ever seen a WISHMASTER movie (or THIS "Time for Timer" short) knows that there is tons of room for error, and deliberate misinterpretation when dealing with granted wishes but don’t worry, this corny movie is really more about Brett realizing that Samantha digs him even without help from an anonymously acquired bull penis that grants wishes (romantic, right?). Nothing ever seems to properly gel or mesh in this movie and its tonally all over the place for sure but it boasts a few familiar faces (Michael “Meat Loaf” Aday, Alice “Miss DePesto” Beasley, character actor extraordinaire Sam McMurray and the great Austin Pendleton) and I have to give it credit for adding some eccentricity, offbeat charm and even a few surprises to an all too familiar template.

CUPID (’97) & PSYCHIC (’91): While recently re-visiting WAXWORK (’88) and its followup WAXWORK II: LOST IN TIME (’92) I realized I had regrettably not done the best job of keeping up with the genre work of underused legend Zachery Wolfe Galligan, he of GREMLINS (’84), GREMLINS 2: THE NEW BATCH (’90) and perhaps even WARLOCK: THE ARMAGEDDON (’93) fame. It’s possible I overcorrected by committing myself to a impromptu Zach-attack double feature that included his violent valentine CUPID (which also stars HELLRAISER’s lovely Ashley Laurence and would be J.R Ewing assassin Mary Crosby) and the made-for-cable thriller THE PSYCHIC (with the always welcome Catherine Mary Stewart (NIGHT OF THE COMET (’84) and FLASHDANCE (’84) alumnus Michael Nouri) which was directed by George MY BLOODY VALENTINE (’81) Mihalka and seems to include the college campus from BLACK CHRISTMAS (’74) (I could be wrong but it makes sense due to it being made in Canada). Watching these two back to back may have been a bad idea because they sorta blended together in my mind even though Zach plays a psychopathic murderer with an incestuous relationship in the former and an affable fellow with premonitions who tries to thwart a murderer in the latter. Neither jaunt is much to write home about but both are pretty painless diversions. I'm going to give the edge to CUPID for featuring a campy turn from Crosby and several scenes involving a quaint used book store.

PHANTASM II (1988): I was born and bred on the original PHANTASM and have seen it so many times that I think I confuse it with my own childhood. Not so its sequel which I enjoy but always left me with the feeling that it was somehow fraudulent by being doused in Hollywood gloss and switching the actor who portrays its main protagonist. Something about james Lagross’ lantern jaw blondness felt like a betrayal at the time but knowing now years later that he’s a bit of a weirdo himself makes the alteration a bit easier to swallow (the fact that subsequent sequels prove Baldwin’s presence isn’t exactly an automatic fix-all soothes tensions as well). In any case, recently acquiring the movie on VHS has made it eligible for my heavy rotation pile and in a strange way its apocalyptic atmosphere and chronically morbid demeanor somehow perfectly cut paths with my present mood. I’ve always found something hypnotic about road movies even though I don’t drive and can only relate as a passive passenger) and somehow I find PHANTASM II’s dreamy/nightmarish cemetery filled desolate hellscape somehow relaxing and even lulling. Obviously there’s a heavy effort apparent to shoehorn the PHANTASM universe into the then highly lucrative ELM STREET box (much like how the tall man’s minions are compressed) but it’s not a bad fit at all as both series rely heavily on surrealism and a bossy supernatural baddie with powers limited only to the writer’s imagination. If nothing else, in comparing the original PHANTASM to this late out of the gate sequel, you really couldn’t find a better illustration of the vast difference between seventies and eighties film, especially in the realm of horror.

Tarot, The Strangers: Chapter One & The Brain (’88)

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I realize reading about the latest “game gone wrong” horror movie may be about as appealing as watching it or writing about it, so my apologies in advance. I just feel compelled to leave a written bread crumb trail for my future self because on a few occasions I have excitedly googled a movie only to find out I had written about it previously and had completely forgot about it. So here I am, leaving this flag in the sand to let myself know that TAROT though not without some merit, is mostly a vaporous generic slog. Although its plot isn’t that different from last year’s excellent (and surprisingly fresh) TALK TO ME, (not to mention jaunts like STAY ALIVE (’06), OUJIA, TRUTH OR DARE and a slew of others, including perhaps guiltiest of all, JUMANJI) this particular cursed young folk flick lacks the spark to be truly memorable.

TAROT (which is theoretically based on a non-supernatural slasher-esque YA horror novel called HORRORSCOPE by Nicholas Adams) concerns a group of pals (complete with comic sidekick) who while searching for alcohol in a rented mansion (you all can afford renting a mansion but no hooch?), discover a deck of strange, apparently hand-made tarot cards. Resident horoscope aficionado Haley (Harriet Slater) reads the group’s futures and thereby hexes them with personality appropriate tragic fates. I have to admit, I found myself a bit excited by the rogues gallery of monsters depicted on the cards as they reminded me of my boos the NEON MANIACS (’86) but sadly as groovily gruesome as the creatures may appear (hats off to the make up/effects crew) they uniformly offer only screaming close-ups as their peak intimidation which gets old and annoying fast. As a proponent of quality PG-13 rated horror and a believer in its potential effectiveness, I gotta say lack of imagination seems more the cause of the film’s overall neutered nature than its rating. On the plus side, TAROT consistently looks atmospheric n’ gothy, sports a likable enough cast and might even be a fun, rote distraction at a teen slumber party; it’s just too bad that checking the boxes and going through the motions seems to be this attractive yet vapid film’s most inescapable curse.

I’m not as devoted to Bryan Bertino’s now-classic THE STRANGERS as some. I’ve heard from many friends that it absolutely terrified them to a mentally scaring degree but for some reason a part of my brain could never fully buy what it was selling. That said, I do admit that the “because you were home” remark is one of the greatest lines ever spoken in the history of horror film. Strangely enough though, I’m absolutely smitten over its audacious sequel THE STRANGERS: PREY AT NIGHT and find its over-stylized (and then some), broad stroked neon, flippant flamboyance mesmerizing and relish soaking in its haunting, isolated late night setting and absolutely shameless indulgence in awesome eighties’ tunes. Johannes Robert’s fashionably late (10 years) follow-up rings all my bells by forcibly steering the straightforward home invasion flick into pure unadulterated cult-y slash-a-thon territory. It’s a brilliant stroke in my book that I’ll never stop applauding and what a great springboard it could have been for a third, trilogy making film that conceivably might push the artsy outlandishness even further!

Except no, as my shoelace once said “I’m a frayed knot”. Instead, the board has been erased and we’re back to square one (or perhaps zero) with THE STRANGERS: CHAPTER ONE a movie that intends to kickoff a new trilogy by covering half the ground the original did. Well, you might be saying at least the sometimes fantastic (LONG KISS GOODNIGHT), sometimes reliable NIGHTMARE 4, DIE HARD 2, DEEP BLUE SEA) but let’s face it, non-miracle worker (snooze-fest THE EXORCIST: THE BEGINNING ) Renny Harlan is behind the wheel. It’s probably too soon to say if Harlan can pull this three part serial off but as possible as it may be (isn’t my Pollyanna optimism annoying?), I’m afraid the future does not look bright so hold off on wearing those shades. CHAPTER ONE feels like a shaky, stammering, stalling lurch with close to nothing on its mind. It’s almost like a Cliff notes version of the original but with many of the already abridged pages missing. Harlan does deliver a few frightening moments but they’re sort of unavoidable in the flick’s DNA anyway. There are a few absolutely killer shots of the bag-headed scarecrow faced ringleader stalking ominous woods like a force of nature but they seem designed for T-shirts and magnets at Hot Topic more than striking genuine fear. Will I see CHAPTER TWO? Yes, of course, provided I’m alive, my curiosity will probably get the better of me but damn, even the “Because you were home” line I was pre-sold on somehow gets mangled into the mundane here.

Hey, maybe these newfangled horror movies just aren’t created with oldsters like me in mind and I should just stay home! Turns out yes, that is not a bad idea because I also recently watched 1988’s THE BRAIN and felt like a dying plant being watered. Edward (BLOODY BIRTHDAY) Hunt directed this Canadian sci-fi/horror film that stars David (RE-ANIMATOR) Gale (who once again looses his head), Tom Bresnahan (TWICE DEAD, MIRROR MIRROR and most importantly, SKI SCHOOL) and Cynthia Preston (of the excellent PIN). This baby is Christmas themed, filled with ELM STREET-style surrealism and leans into the gooey practical effects. In this fine film, a literal giant head from another planet teams up with your everyday mad scientist-type lunatic to brainwash a small-town and then eventually, the world. It’s exactly the paranoid fifties-flavored tale told through wacky eighties eyes of a malignant mutation with sights set on world domination that I guess I needed. You’re likely to observe shades of everything from THE BLOB and THE STUFF to INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS and HALLOWEEN 3: SEASON OF THE WITCH with plenty of mirroring toward TERRORVISION thrown in. Funnily enough though, I do believe I caught this movie back in my video store days and didn’t care for its goofy nature or the random flashy inserts of the titular creature who resembles a discontinued marauding Madball. In other words, giving a film a second chance sometimes pays off big time so maybe there’s stiff hope for the aforementioned recent titles TAROT and STRANGERS: CHAPTER ONE after all. You never know (Ignore that noise. I’m just trying to close on an upbeat note)!

Happy Mother's Day

Posted on By unkle lancifer

In the back (and front, and side) of my mind I’ve been dreading Mother’s Day this year because my own mother recently passed away (two days before my birthday, no less). It has now become clear that I didn’t fully appreciate the amount of covert comfort my ma’s mere existence provided and now I keenly sense I’m working without a net and pretty much feel like the world’s oldest orphan. I’ve never been good with death and this is the one death (besides perhaps my own) that I’ve feared the most and for the longest amount of time. Luckily, this Isn’t my first square dance with the grim reaper and I know the only way to shoo away the swarm of howling gloom hornets is with some good old fashioned gratitude. I was lucky to have a generous mom who cared about people and animals & I’ve seen enough horror movies (not to mention the 1976 TV mini-series SYBIL) to know that’s not always the case and it's basically a crap-shoot what kind of parents one is designated at birth. I guess I’m saying I realize I lucked out. Now I guess I’m just worried I’m next on the conveyor belt rolling toward oblivion but it helps that I witnessed a spiritual vision of sorts upon the moment of my mother’s passing that leads me to believe that all is fine and as it should be (a story for another day).

In any case, certainly Kindertrauma would not exist without my dear ma, not because she gave birth to me but because she made the life altering decision to allow me to stay up late one night to watch SATAN’S TRIANGLE, the 1975 made for TV movie that activated the spewing fountain of primal fear in my brain that turned out to be the central part of my paranoid personality and the genesis of these pitiful pages. Then there was the time she came to pick me up at a friend’s house and got to gabbing with my pal’s mother. To keep us kids out of their hair, the moms put us in a wood paneled den with a humongous TV fully equipped with a brand new device called a cable box. There was no such thing as “On Demand “ Back then so me and my buddy watched whatever happened to be on HBO at the time and as fate would have it, it was none other than THE OMEN. Religious horror hounded me like a frightened fox back in the Satanic seventies and I missed way to many nights of sleep to count but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t think I would have mentally survived a few of the things that befell me in my life it I hadn’t had that inadvertent training to overcome (or at least dodge) my fears.

I should also thank my mother for never monitoring the VHS tapes my brothers and I would rent from STAGE DOOR VIDEO (a glorified kiosk in King of Prussia Mall) in the very earliest days of the home VCR boom. It may not have been her plan but she was instrumental in making me a horror fan (An aside about the early days of VHS: It’s hard to convey what a luxury it was back then to be able to watch a movie anytime you wanted to without commercials and to be able to rewind and watch it again if it was deemed worthy. Back then, you could also take the actual VHS box home with you as well and if you were like me, you gawked at every image on it, studied the synopsis, reveled in the ominous taglines and gawked endlessly at the poster art. It was all a glorious part of the home video experience).

My mother might not have been the hugest fan of horror herself but she was the type who, when finding out the mainstream movie she meant to see with her best pal Rilene was sold out, spontaneously bought tickets for THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 instead and ended up chuckling at the mayhem throughout. She was also an avid reader and kept up with the popular titles of the day which is how I was first exposed to classic works of literature like AUDREY ROSE, THE OTHER and most frightening of all, THE AMITYVILLE HORROR. How can I repay such a gift?

When me and John first started Kindertrauma my mother was supportive enough to contribute a kindertrauma herself (HERE) something so many of my “friends” would never deign to do and once when she and her friend (Miss Rilene again, natch) were on vacation and came upon something dubbed and disturbing on TV that they could not identify I was thrilled to be able to eventually solve that “Name That Trauma” for her (It turned out to be Argento’s Masters of Horror episode “Jennifer”). Obviously my mother was way more than the few anecdotes I’ve described above (she was a devout spouse, a devoted friend, a loving caregiver to many fortunate pets and sweet enough to travel cross country to celebrate John and mine’s wedding) but these are a few of the things that I feel comfortable sharing here (I mean, it’s bad enough I had to share my mom with my brothers, much less the internet). Suffice to repeat, on this day, sad as I might be, I’m also profoundly grateful and wherever she may be, I know I have an ally out there somewhere. We didn’t see eye to eye on everything (I regret every moment spent butting heads on politics, what a waste of time) but on the things that truly mattered I believe we were on the same page (even if that page was sometimes from THE AMITYVILLE HORROR). So, Happy Mother’s day, mom and thanks for all you did and didn’t do.

Lisa Frankenstein, Night Swim, There’s Something in the Barn

Posted on By unkle lancifer

For a while there I thought Zelda William’s LISA FRANKENSTEIN was right up my eighties-loving alley but that dalley turned out to be a dead end and I ended up walking in circles looking for a viable exit and eventually, exhausted, fell asleep in a pile of trash in the corner and was urinated on by a stray dog (not his fault). The movie looks great, it’s got visual flair to spare and the cast is killer (both Kathryn Newton as Lisa and Carla Gugino as her overbearing step mom Janet are stellar) and the lovingly curated soundtrack is phenomenal ( I’m still stunned that I lived to see the day when The Chameleon’s “Up the down Escalator” was used in an outfit upgrade montage. On the other hand, it may be time to give The Pixie’s “Wave of Mutilation” a rest and one rendition of REO Speedwagon’s “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore” is certainly more than enough). The uneven script is care of Diablo Cody (the underrated JENNIFER’S BODY) so there’s more than a few solid zingers amongst the onslaught of heavy-handed slang but all good intentions are dampened by the deadly decision to prematurely eradicate the film’s lively antagonist, a sin akin to sawing off three legs of the chair the audience is sitting in. Sure, the doomed outsider teen romance aspect may be enough to keep some lovelorn viewers smitten but I kept thinking I’d seen a similar union done far better before in 2013’s WARM BODIES. It’s not a total wash out, it throws you enough bones to make itself watchable but this wonky contraption may be too randomly cobbled together to stand as fully upright as it could have.

I’ve got more than enough backyard swimming pool related trauma in my past to be fully susceptible to the idea of a malignant pool taking out an innocent family Amityville-style. That said, I’m thinking NIGHT SWIM’s premise may be better suited to a short film (apparently, it actually sprung from a well regarded short and I'll have to track that down) or an episode of anthology television. Its already dubious plot is done no favors by a few over the top performances, funky effects and ridiculous reveals yet I gotta admit such broad strokes allow a certain amount of campy comedy to flourish and make the absurdities strangely watchable. Although the movie loiters in the shallow end ( a philosophical pool cleaner tries to inject meaning but his efforts are moot) its undemanding nature is sorta endearing and in the end, super likable Wyatt Russell’s earnestness as a self sacrificing father somehow keeps the sinking ship somewhat afloat. It’s not hard to see why this one was blasted by critics upon release (with the exception of Stephen King who notably compared it to Spielberg’s classic DUEL) but I found it a harmless enough diversion and I figure the world needed at least one killer pool movie anyway.

It’s possible my views cannot be trusted when it comes to Christmas set horror films due to the fact that I love them so much and treasure nearly every new addition to the sub-genre (within reason). I’m also of the mind that Martin Starr (FREAKS AND GEEKS forever) should be in every movie possible. In THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE BARN Starr stars as idealistic American father Bill Nordheim who drags his skeptical family (second wife Carol (Amrita Acharia), son Lucus (Townes Banner) and daughter Nora (Zoe Winther- Hansen)) to his ancestral farm in Norway to live a more peaceful and simple life. Well, you know the old saying “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry especially when your barn is home to a persnickety elf who demands you adhere to certain rules which you ignore thereby condemning your family to an onslaught of non-stop grief and carnage” (BTW:The elf and elves in question here bare a closer resemblance to common bearded/hooded garden gnomes, the kind of which appeared in the 1983 British horror anthology SCREAMTIME). This Hilarious dark comedy romp follows in the snowy footprints of holiday set, regulation-happy, morality fables GREMLINS (’84) and KRAMPUS (2015) and it does both of those classics proud with its well balanced blend of violence, humor and sentimentality. My only regret is that I did not have the opportunity to watch it during the proper season but there’s always next X-mas to fix that pint-sized oversight.

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Abigail

Posted on By unkle lancifer

How much fun could a movie about a group of mostly dopey criminals being trapped in a mansion with a rampaging child vampire with a penchant for ballet be exactly? Well, tons of fun, obviously. Even if done poorly, I’d venture this particular set-up is fool proof entertainment but happily in this case it is executed by folks with true love and knowledge of the genre ( Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, the talents behind READY OR NOT and the last two SCREAM flicks) and showcases an absolute dream team cast playing characters so contrasting and sharply carved you can almost imagine them on CLUE game cards. MATILDA: THE MUSICAL’s Alisha Weir is instantly iconic as the title character, a supernatural whirling dervish that is part Rhoda from THE BAD SEED, part Pris from BLADE RUNNER and part Carol Kane in SCROOGED sans toaster. With her sly precociousness she effortlessly joins the ranks of other classic “child” vamps that floated before her (Danny Glick of SALEM’S LOT, Homer of NEAR DARK, Claudia of AN INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE, et al.). She’s one of the many reasons this movie is a bloody, demonic party and a half (one scene even strongly references NIGHT OF THE DEMONS) but all involved deserve kudos (and I don't mean the discontinued granola bar).

ABIGAIL introduces us to a group of rag-tag crooks whose get rich quick scheme involves kidnapping a rich kingpin’s kid, taking her to an isolated mansion (I just love a limited location film, what better way to fully block out the outside world than to literally erase it from visual existence?) and collecting some ransom money for her safe return. What could go wrong and how could all involved possibly know Universal pictures was looking to update DRACULA’S DAUGHTER? Things go South mighty quick and soon the rat pack code-named group including level headed ex-junkie Joey (SCREAM 4 & 5’s Melissa Barrera ), conniving short fuse ex-cop Frank (THE GUEST’s Dan Stevens fresh off GODZILLA X KONG and nearly unrecognizable), wacky hacker Sammy (FREAKY’s Kathryn Newton), no nonsense marine sniper Rickles (William Catlet), sweet natured bumbling muscle head Peter (Kevin Durand) and dim-witted psycho thug Dean (the late Angus Cloud in a spot-on performance that makes you reel at the incalculable loss) are fighting for their lives against a fanged pirouetting pipsqueak with daddy issues who is immune to crucifixes, stakes and garlic (like myself, her only true kryptonite is sunlight).

ABAGAIL (much like last year’s LAST VOYAGE OF THE DEMETER) proves there’s plenty of blood left to be sucked from the archetypal vampire tale and although it’s literally explosive at times in its implementation, it works equally well as as a cozy parlor, old dark house flick complete with hidden passages and nods to “And Then There Were None”. Much of the territory may feel familiar but there’s a subterranean wild streak that keeps you on edge right up to its final enthralling surprise. As always, a good film is greatly indebted to its cast and truly, there isn’t a weak link to be found in this crew. Darkly twisted, laugh out loud hilarious, terrifically brutal and ultimately strangely endearing , ABIGAIL is a movie and a character for the ages with an unabashed appetite for horror we can all relate to.

Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I was on the fence in regards to whether I wanted to see the latest monster mash-up GODZILLA X KONG: THE NEW EMPIRE. I very much wanted to spend time with the giant ape and the humongous radioactive lizard but I knew I’d have to endure packing peanut scenes involving boring humans staring at computers, pushing buttons and speaking gibberish. I’m not sure who I was kidding though because about five minutes into the movie I was indeed in my happy place, blissfully lost from reality and hanging out with roaring gargantuan beings who stomp on buildings and in Godzilla’s case, nap curled up in the Roman Colosseum like an exhausted house cat. Sure, there’s still some pesky humans poking about but it’s mostly the amiable likes of scrappy yee-hawing, eighties music loving monster dentist/vet “Trapper” (THE GUEST’s Dan Stevens) and likable and lanky adoptive mother/scientist/ Ilene Andrews (NIGHT HOUSE’s Rebecca Hall). The two apparently had some kinda fling in collage but happily we’re spared the details to make room for the more interesting in-depth analysis of the complicated social life and ever rotating pecking order of moody colossi. As an added bonus, the majority of the film takes place in a ridiculous upside down center Earth space that gives off some serious LAND OF THE LOST vibes. I found myself immediately regretting not paying the extra clams to experience this vibrant Saturday morning cartoon madhouse in what I'm sure would be spectacular 3-D.

I have to admit I did not appreciate seeing my usually thoughtful pal Kong picking up a baby giant ape he just met and using him to bludgeon his attacking foes but the lil’ dude seemed to recover (and even forgive) quickly and I’m sure the younger audience must have found the slapstick pummeling hilarious. In fact, what Adam Wingard’s second excursion into this world delivers so wonderfully is the toys in a sandbox, destructive power fantasy joy inherent with these fantastical creatures. It may not impress critics as much a the deeper, more grounded GODZILLA MINUS ONE but it does have the power to make at least this viewer remember what it was like to be a kid again (after viewing, I immediately went home and google-gawked at the latest toy-line based on the film and although I do not have the disposable cash to purchase such items, was not disappointed). I was also very delighted to see my favorite character show up (spoiler alert) and that would be the angelic behemoth moth Mothra who I am completely in awe of and possibly in love with. The cherry on this day-go cake is the introduction of a new misunderstood female titan named Shimo who is gorgeous and blasts ice out of her mouth. Although I’m subtracting points for relying on the tired ginger bully trope, I enjoyed this diversion more than Wingard’s previous stomp in the franchise thanks to its goofy childlike spirit and positive closure that involves our beloved victors united and waving goodbye over a hill like rogue violent Care Bears showering the world with earned camaraderie and (green) blood soaked rainbow glitter.

Late Night with The Devil

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Cameron and Colin Cairnes’ retro horror jaunt LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL has an irresistible cult-baiting premise. The year is 1977, Satanic panic is brewing and late night talk show host Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian, who with recent appearances in THE BOOGEYMAN & THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE DEMETER is carving out some impressive genre star cred) is desperate for ratings (presumably to one up contemporaries like Johnny Carson). Unfortunate domino tiles begin to line up involving an impromptu conjuring of a certain “Mr.Wiggles” a demonic force that speaks through a pretty yet creepy young girl named Lily (Ingrid Torelli) who is the subject of a recent book (that recalls the infamous “Michelle Remembers”) on none other than Halloween night (Speaking of Halloween night, fans of BBC’s GHOSTWATCH (’92) should have a general idea of what’s in store). There’s little room for disbelief as Lily begins to spout information she herself could not possibly know as her chair alarmingly levitates. Eventually chaos reigns and audience members flee as hallucination and reality converge while the fully possessed Lily dispatches anyone who gets in the way of her exposing a massive skeleton in the not so innocent Delroy’s Faustian bargain lined closet.

LATE NIGHT is consistently entertaining thanks to it’s central performances (Dastmalchian is fantastic and Torelli’s arrival enlivens the proceedings even further) and the delicious anticipation of witnessing doubting Thomas “Carmichael the Conjurer” (Ian Bliss) proved wrong in his cynical skepticism. It’s not all smooth sailing though as the part faux-documentary (with Michael Ironside as narrator), part found footage, part backstage pass, part dream/delusion with a side of delirium, struggles tonally due to an indecisive foundation. Unlike the aforementioned GHOSTWATCH, LATE NIGHT doesn’t have much of a desire to fully commit to convincing the viewer of its own reality which gives it ample creative space to play around in but also dilutes the scares. It’s almost as if LATE NIGHT, by constantly pointing out different levels of artifice, shoots off its own foot in the process. There’s no real danger in a cardboard cut-out world. Still, no reason to throw out the possessed baby with the holy bathwater. This film’s glib, gimmicky nature may prevent it from getting truly under one’s skin but that doesn’t stop it from being a enjoyable send-up and a future shoo-in low commitment annual Halloween watch.

The First Omen

Posted on By unkle lancifer

It’s a tricky thing to mess around with an already established franchise, particularly in the realm of prequels. Like the perils of time travel, one minor blunder can seemingly tarnish or muddy the carefully placed previous groundwork. Arkasha Stevenson’s debut feature THE FIRST OMEN is that rarest of unicorns, it stands gallantly on its own legs if need be but also serves to enhance the classic(s) that came before it. Beyond being easily one of the best in its home series, it also radiates as a much appreciated ode to satanic seventies cinema in general. Richard Donner’s gothic forerunner happily haunts this religious epic but so does ROSEMARY’S BABY (’68), THE DEVILS (’71), THE EXORCIST (’73), SUSPIRIA (’77) and thanks to a spirited central performance, POSSESSION (’81). It almost feels like a family reunion of sorts and if you’re a fan of any of the aforementioned you should feel at home, albeit uncomfortably. This artsy monster has surprisingly sharp teeth.

Nell Tiger Free (who previously lurked in SERVANT) portrays put upon would be nun Margaret Daino who is sent to an Orphanage in Rome in 1971 to learn the ropes before committing herself to God. There she encounters creepy seemingly possessed kids, cigarette smoking/trampoline enjoying women of the cloth and the sexual temptations of disco (poor thing is even enticed by Boney M.’s “Daddy Cool” which wasn’t released until 1976 but I digress). Things are harrowing and trippy but overall manageable until a fellow pre-nunster soaks herself in gasoline, lights herself aflame and does the classic “This is for you” self hanging with accompanying window crash routine as displayed in the first film. Henceforth our gal Maggie is unraveling conspiracies within the church to expedite the arrival of the Antichrist and is forced to witness her wildly talented co-stars (won’t say who lives or dies but we’ve got the likes of Sonia Braga, Ralph (THE WITCH) Ineson, ALIEN 3’s Charles Dance and SHAUN OF THE DEAD’s Bill Nighy on deck) steamrolled FINAL DESTINATION-style whenever they start getting an inkling of the untoward goings on. You know the drill and if you’re like me you love said drill.

I won’t mention any names (sounds like SCHMEXORCIST: DA-BIEBER) but this film does everything right that a certain recent attempt to reignite a beloved religious horror franchise fumbled. Steven’s film feels lived in, weighty and real and the relationships of the people involved click and repel in believable, human ways. It understands, controls and commands its space and elicits genuine concern for its tortured protagonist (who endures much body horror and often emits the bleak dread of a Munch painting). It’s highbrow when it wants to be, lowbrow when it needs to be and is absolutely not ashamed to take the gloves off and be nasty as hell on occasion. It feels absolutely epic and some of the images and visions we’re subjected to reverberate like genuine experienced hallucinations as it slyly trains the viewer not to trust their own eyes. It’s just good film-making that not only takes its subject matter seriously but its audience as well. Hey, I’m as shocked as you are. I found this covert prequel highly entertaining, truly unnerving and deliciously morbid (even if I figured out its central twisty rug-pull from miles away). What’s more, I can honestly say it restored my faith if not in religion than at least in the potential for true art in commercial film. I’m giving it six hundred and sixty six clawed thumbs up.

Five (More) Underrated Monster Movies

Posted on By unkle lancifer

I will forever be grateful to my late father for taking me and my brothers to see the raging pile of cinematic pandemonium known as HUMANOIDS FROM THE DEEP (1980). Rarely has a film delivered such a schizo-mix of goofy guilelessness and pure exploitation. How can anyone resist a film brave enough to expose the epic confrontation between giant mutant fish men and the unflappable Troy McClure? Extra points scored when said flick features creature designs provided by none other than the brilliant Rob Bottin! This Roger Corman produced slime riot is cartoon-level silly for much of it’s runtime but I have to admit there are a few stalking scenes that still deliver authentic creeps and its final trashy jolt is an eye-popping ALIEN-inspired humdinger that may leave you reeling.

How in the world can anyone question the power and validity of made for TV movies when GARGOYLES (1972) is flying around? From it’s eerie opening narration to it’s unnerving aerial shots to its multitude of gorgeously created monster effects (Stan Winston’s work here rightfully earned an Emmy), this is a one of a kind monster mash that every horror fan should track down.

NECRONOMICON: BOOK OF THE DEAD (’93) is a squishy special effects heavy anthology loosely based on the work of H.P Lovecraft (who is portrayed by horror icon Jeffrey Combs in a wrap around segment). The Philadelphia-set third story “Whispers” is of special interest here as it was directed by the great Brian Yuzna and features absolutely freaky flying subterranean stingray-type creatures that are the stuff of nightmares (and could almost be related to my buddies THE BOOGENS (’81) or even THEY (2002). I’m a fan of the whole film but this third tale is disturbingly surreal and sports one hell of a sadistic mind-screw mean streak.

If you want to scare away potential friends just tell them you’re a fan of 2011’s prequel/re-quel THE THING and watch the light slowly evaporate from their eyes. Sure, I know the movie makes the mistake of slathering on unnecessary CGI and botches its climax (blame studio execs and rando test audiences) but it’s not nearly as faulty as its reputation suggests. There’s a great attention to detail that could only result from sincere reverence to John Carpenter’s classic, the cast is solid, the paranoia is substantial and more than a few of the hideous monstrosities it showcases are actually pretty impressive. It can’t compete with its predecessor for sure but it makes a fine optional companion piece and well, I just can’t resist its icy score and on-point arctic setting. One scene in particular always stands out to me involving Mary Elizabeth Winstead’s character observing stars in the night sky. It’s a pure moment of contemplation of the endless unfathomable nature of the universe and no effects are needed.

The ever clever Larry Cohen’s darkly funny flying monster movie Q: THE WINGED SERPENT (1982) features awesome aerial views of Manhattan and a gleefully retro stop motion animated beastie but the greatest ace it holds is the quirky acting stylings of one Michael Moriarty. I don’t know how he does it but Moriarty with his unpredictable eccentric mannerisms is somehow able to upstage a winged prehistoric Aztec God who sleeps in the Chrysler building and has a name I’m not even going to try to spell; it’s truly a remarkable thing. Cohen clearly felt the same way as he would continue to fan the flames of Moriarty’s idiosyncratic talents in several more collaborations. Over the course of his career, Cohen has delivered a surplus of cinematic gold to genre fans and this strange, eighties time capsule oddity, in my opinion, may be his grandest, most entertaining creation.

Five (or Six) Underrated Thrillers By Ghastly1

Posted on By unkle lancifer

Anguish (1987)

Very hard to describe but this is one hell of a film and definitely shouldn't be missed. A film-within-a-film thriller about a group of people who are terrorized in a movie theater by a killer while watching a horror film about a murderous optometrist looking for eyeballs who stalks his victims in a movie theater. It's very intense and highly original, do yourself a favor and see it.

The Rosary Murders (1987)

Here is a film not to be missed. Detroit is plagued by a series of murders (what? I don't believe you) of priests and nuns, with each victim found holding a black rosary. The police cannot catch the serial killer and the Church can't protect its flock. When Father Robert Koesler (Donald Sutherland) hears a confession from the murderer, he isn't sure what to do (it's a toughie).  Can he respect the Seal of Confession even if it means putting more lives, perhaps even his own, in jeopardy? 

All American Murder (1991)

For all the giallo/whodunit fans out there, here is a film you should check out. An outcast with a past on the outs with his father and society in general gets transferred to a new college and falls in love with his dream girl; everything is looking to be on the upswing until she winds up getting torched and he takes the blame for it. Not wanting to fry himself -and with a little help from Christopher Walken- he sets out to clear his name, but it seems bodies keep piling up around him as the seamy underbelly of this seemingly perfect town and its inhabitants are exposed and the noose around his neck tightens. It's got funny, witty dialogue from likeable characters (as well as likeably hateable characters) and the atmosphere is taut but fun.

The Psycho Lover (1970)

A psychiatrist uses his position of influence and trust to induce a psychotic patient the police suspect of being a murdering rapist to off his wife. Things get fouled up when the wife finds out about his plan, cold bloodedly turns the tables and leaves his world shattered. Leaving aside a few gratingly crappy late 60's/early 70's pseudo folk songs and some campy scenes here and there, this is better than average for this type of film. All things considered it is entertaining throughout, with a definite sense of atmosphere, style and suspense.

Buried Alive (1989) and (1990)

The first of these films follows a young woman teaching at a spooky old girls’ school overrun by ants and staffed by some unusual types including Donald Pleasence. Spurred on by a series of horrific hallucinations, she begins to investigate the mysterious disappearances of several students. The second, A married woman and her lover plot to kill her husband to make off with the insurance money. However, their attempt to murder him using poisonous fish toxins backfires in surprising ways.