Tag: General Horror

I’d like to be able to tell you that TERRIFIER 3 is not quite my cup of tea but then I went and slurped that putrid cup of tea down and thoroughly enjoyed it so I can’t. I respected the first two gore-happy TERRIFIER flicks that featured Art the clown (portrayed by David Howard Thornton whose hell-mime performance is beyond reproach) as decent enough edgy diversions (so too writer/director Damien Leone’s anthology debut ALL HOLLOWS EVE (2013) in which Art is portrayed by Mike Giannelli) but this new, more potent outing gave me something that I won’t forget too soon. Part of the reason it clobbered me so is because it’s mostly set on Christmas (I’m an Xmas horror fanatic) but the main weight of its body slam on me was due to the fact that I saw it in a packed theater and the audience’s excited, nearly giddy trepidation was palpable. Well, it turned out Leone’s sicko manifesto made me feel unsafe and challenged for its entire runtime which brought me fondly back to my earliest days of watching forbidden horror on VHS and sneaking into theaters as a kid to behold repulsions I wasn’t sure I could endure. BTW, I was kinda mortified (though not too surprised) that a couple brought their children with them to this unrated yuletide bloodbath. The oldest child couldn’t have been more than ten! I thought I was surely privy to a ground zero kindertrauma event and that the kids would drop like flies fleeing to the nearest exit (I at that age surely would have, I barely made it through JAWS) but when this cinematic onslaught of entrails completed, the entire family (and their last name wasn’t ADAMS) stood up and clapped while laughing maniacally. It was both a relief and more than a little bit disturbing.

If TERRIFIER 3 had only physical violence to offer I probably wouldn’t have been that effected (this was illustrated to me by the fact that I was more distraught about a rat being injured than any human (you know how I roll)). Beyond the wince inducing physical mayhem, Leone conjures an astonishing thick brew of truly malevolent deranged delirium (and it’s all deliciously dunked in clashing grainy and sparkling hues reminiscent of CHRISTMAS EVIL (’80) and SILENT NIGHT DEADLY NIGHT (’84)). I was honestly more taken aback and unnerved on a bad mojo level by Art’s corpse-y female cohort’s lipless grimace and the absolutely gruesome dilapidated home the rotting duo hibernate in than almost anything else. A tone is set early on (strangely enough by Art’s squirming about on its on accord, decapitated head) that exactly zero rules apply and the game board could be mercilessly knocked off the table and stomped on (like a poor rat) at any time. It really feels like a no holds barred, punk as hell, assault on normalcy in general that is bizarrely equally as liberating as it is psychologically assaulting (it’s probably for the best that poor misguided (but well-meaning) Siskel and Ebert did not live to see this day but it’s fun to imagine their jaws dropping through the cloud floor of heaven anyway). Will I ever watch this demented chaos grenade again? At first I thought definitely not, but then I remembered those seedy, unflinching mad dog dives into depravity from my youth (looking mostly at you MANIAC (’80), NIGHTMARE (’81) (which this film especially mirrors in its mad eeriness) and PIECES (’82)) that over the years morphed into adorable naughty puppies in my mind and then I wasn't so sure (who am I kidding? I’ll probably watch it every Christmas but sadly alone because there’s no way Aunt John could ever withstand it; dude tapped out of TURISTAS ('06)). I’m not saying this is the finest of film-making (Even at two hours, it still cheats a shortcut to its climax) but its pure audacity, refreshing transgressive nature and clear love of its intended audience shine brightly. One thing is for sure, like it or not, Art the clown is here to stay. Hey, every generation deserves its own horror icons and if earlier generations find them appalling, amoral or in just plain bad taste, well, that’s all the better!

Natalie Erika James (who delivered 2020’s impressively depressing RELIC)’s recent ROSEMARY’S BABY prequel APARTMENT 7A is commendably detailed and admirably respectful of its source material yet it lacks any punchy impact and for every fine, nuanced acting performance there’s a regrettably awkward dance number. As a huge fan of Ira Levin’s novel and Roman Polanski’s film adaptation, I have to admit it kept me reasonably entertained by stuffing me to the gills with fan pandering Easter eggs throughout but unfortunately its inability to bring anything new to the table ultimately makes it hit more like an aperitif than a satisfying meal. An unrecognizable Julia Garner (WE ARE WHAT WE ARE, THE LAST EXORCISM PART II) is Terry Gionoffrio a would be Broadway star who falls victim to the same Satanic cult that would soon torment Rosemary Woodhouse in the classic tale (this minor character appears briefly in both the OG book and film, she’s the gal who Rosemary meets in the laundry room who eventually jumps to her death out of a window of the Bramford building (portrayed by the legendary Dakota) and inadvertently introduces Rosemary to the adorable yet diabolical Castevets. Frankly, the character doesn’t quite sync up with her previous incarnation but I’m willing to blame her tannis root necklace for any inconsistencies).

Something tells me I might be a little more generous with this harmless companion piece (It’s certainly less egregious than say, the 1976 made for TV sequel LOOK WHAT’S HAPPENED TO ROSEMARY’S BABY, Ira Levin’s own wanting literary follow-up SON OF ROSEMARY and the convoluted rehash miniseries from 2014 starring Zoe Saldana) if only earlier this year we hadn’t been gifted the remarkable on every level prequel THE FIRST OMEN. As it stands, I’m going to give this one a pass for housing the great Dianne Wiest’s interpretation of Minnie Castevets as it’s worth the price of admission alone (Kevn McNally as Roman is no slouch either). I wish this seemingly sincere attempt had the capacity/audacity to knock it out of the park, it almost seemed like it might for a while, but I left it feeling like the highest point of excitement it delivered for yours truly Involved the late in the game appearance of the same painting of a burning church that ominously hung in the Castevet’s apartment in the original. Sure it had me excitedly pointing at the TV but I’m thinking in retrospect that I deserved richer revelations.

As much as I worship Tobe Hooper’s vividly traumatizing 1979 miniseries based on Stephen KIng’s Classic (and my personal favorite) novel SALEM’S LOT (I wouldn’t kick the 2004 re-do starring Rob Lowe out of bed for eating crackers either), I have no qualms about a fresh take on the endlessly viable material. The fact that it was announced that a new vision would be helmed by Gary Dauberman whose horror credits include writing the screenplay for 2017’s successful adaption of King’s IT and directing the spooky romp ANNABELLE COMES HOME had me about as optimistic as I could get about such a thing. Ultimately, on many fronts, Dauberman delivered; the casting is top notch, the seventies setting is splendid, the counterintuitive crispy brightness adds a level of freshness, it successfully develops its own visual style (seemingly influenced by Mike Flanagan’s oeuvre and Carpenter’s THE FOG), it offers a brand new, unpredictable climax (involving a Drive-in theater no less) and there is a clear overall understanding of which set pieces are most potent. Sadly, its artistry is frequently betrayed by its format as wild, careless pruning inflicts this by rights, epic tale. It’s almost like watching a Viewmaster version of the film as grand, impressive scenes click by with an absence of connective tissue and characters are rushed along with the patience of attention deficit speed dating.

I can understand the greedy urge to lessen the runtime to get more showings out of a theatrical release but once this flick was bound for cable someone really should have cared enough to loosen its corset (especially considering its been said that the main reason it premiered on cable rather than in theaters was due to a desperate need for content; I’m no math wiz but a longer runtime would have meant even MORE content). Now I’m hearing that an entire opening sequence was filmed involving hero Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman, who like the rest of the cast is quite good) as a child being traumatized in the Marsten House (which looks incredible here constantly looming over the entire town) and my mind reels at just how much that springboard scene would have added to the film in regards to Mears’ motivation and the town’s history in general. I truly hope at some point we get to see exactly what the director fully intended (apparently, more than an entire hour was excised) because what’s present intrigues and I hate to see such an earnest offering undeservedly hobbled (a MISERY reference seemed appropriate). That said, I’d say this condensed version is still worth a watch due to its unique style and its clawed handful of effective scares but it’s quite clear it could have had much more bite if it was allotted the properly sized real estate its grand source material unquestionably deserves.

Hey, maybe I can curb my expectations by watching something original rather than relying on prequels, sequels and remakes! IT’S WHAT’S INSIDE sorta fits the bill although I suppose it could be argued that nothing new is under the sun and this body-switching bonanza could just as easily be titled FREAKY FRIDAY PART 12 (sorry, I refuse to do an ELECTRIC BOOGALOO joke). A bunch of attractive yet charm deficient post college couples gather at another isolated estate to flirt, quarrel and dredge up past grudges (are we sure this is original?) before a wedding. Everything goes horribly awry when a harmless game of body switching made possible by a smuggled-in, state of the art device ( just go with it) muddies waters and puts your truly's ability to remember character’s names to the ultimate test (wish I brought a pad and paper!). Just when you think things could not get worse, two hapless attendees fall to their deaths resulting in a impromptu contentious game of “musical chairs” except with bodies that is made even more stressful by the threat of cops on their way to surely muck up things further (as they do). Wait a minute, this movie is actually really great once you get used to it! I admit I was about to turn it off when I realized it would require me using dusty parts of my brain but after maneuvering past a few fuzzy curves, and getting a handle on the kindly markers set in place (thankfully the young folk often wear name tag Polaroids of their true selves or are filmed in red when their real identities are in play) I was good to go. I’m happy to say this movie really can lay claim to being its own wild beast, sports many a clever camera trick and is pretty damn innovative all around. I’m even going to go so far as to say it’s genuinely funny and clever as hell! I’m glad I didn’t jump ship after all, and now I’ve even got that strange itch to watch it again! Huh, whatdoyaknow, I’m now highly interested in whatever writer/directer Greg Jardin does next! Bravo, sir! You won this old, long-COVID suffering, curmudgeon over!

A24’s trailer for Jane (WE’RE ALL GOING TO THE WORLD’S FAIR) Schoenbrun’s I SAW THE TV GLOW had me all prepared for an IT FOLLOWS-esque suburban curse flick crammed into a Candle Cove repressed memory nineties nostalgia taco shell. While there certainly are sharp slivers of horror spiking this poetic, fluorescent fish aquarium-toned ode to outsiders and their dependence on media for a social life, it’s more of a coming of age character study than anything else (albeit a mighty surreal one). Owen (Justin Smith who I recognized from the video game THE QUARRY) is a cautious wraith-like teenager who can’t seem to materialize enough to cast a shadow at home or at school. He eventually meets a slightly older gal named Maddy (Bridgette Lundy Payne) who indoctrinates him into the comfy world of obsessive serial television fandom and the buffering delights of wrapping yourself in the toasty warm blanket of dissociation. Maddy’s go-to trap door escape from reality is “The Pink Opaque” a young adult dark fantasy series complete with monster of the week episodes and a “Big Bad” named Mr. Melancholy (who looks like a still from 1902’s A TRIP TO THE MOON sans the rocket in the eye). Maddy describes the program as “More real than real life” and I’m in no position to judge her as in the nineties I was known to claim BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER was more important to me than my actual life (I no longer think that but must admit I was much happier when I did).

Over the preceding years, both Owen and Maddie are haunted by their connection to the show and struggle to understand the ever fuzzy (and possibly adjustable) line between fantasy and reality. Although much of the journey depicted is frustratingly vague, willfully muddled and downright mumbly at times, it’s hard not to feel sympathy for these characters who find it easier to relate to fictional beings on a television screen than the abrasive clods that surround them in life (Fred Durst is Owen’s step dad – you know that can’t be easy). Sure, I’m still slightly disappointed I didn’t get my (wrongfully assumed) scarefest on but I’m glad I caught this earnest tribute to square pegs (another great TV show) and the art that nurtures them when no-one else will. One scene that I found particularly poignant has Owen catching up with his beloved program decades later only to discover that age has not been kind and what once seemed profound now seems prosaic and what was once scary is now laughably lame. We’ve all been there (but let it be known that BUFFY still rules).

James (of the soul devouring EDEN LAKE) Watkin’s SPEAK NO EVIL is a superior thriller (and remake of a 2022 Danish film) that boasts stellar performances and hearkens back to the “Blank From Hell” suspense films that elbowed horror flicks to the side during the late eighties/early nineties (I’m thinking their heyday blossoms with FATAL ATTRACTION and wilts with THE TEMP). In this case, James McAvoy (who has proven his psycho chomps and then some in SPLIT & GLASS and should really play Jack Torrance some day) is Paddy, a host from hell who along with his hippy-ish spouse Ciara (STOPMOTION’s Aisling Franciosi) and socially stunted (with good reason) son Ant (Dan Hough) welcome the far too trusting Dalton family (BLACK MIRROR: San Junipero’s Mackenzie Davis as borderline unfaithful wife Louise, Scoot McNair (MONSTERS) as ineffectual husband Ben and Alix West Lefler as neurotic preteen Agnes) to spend the weekend in their gorgeous yet sorta slummy farmhouse in the Italian countryside (BTW, I thankfully never have to worry about the incidents depicted here befalling myself as the only thing I hate more than traveling is staying in someone else’s home overnight and I therefore have made a pact with myself never to do either again if at all possible).

The getaway gets off to an uncomfortable start as Paddy who knows very well that Louise is a vegetarian, tries to force feed her a duck he roasted after telling tales of the fowl's remarkable spirit. From there things get worse and worse as personality clashes pile up, an unexplained surplus of fancy watches emerges and someone (not me this time) outs themselves as a fan of the Bangles and particularly their #1 charting power ballad "Eternal Flame". The tense situation ultimately comes to a head when the Daltons learn the tastes of their eccentric hosts lean less toward SCHITT’S CREEK and more toward WOLF CREEK (if ya catch my drift). This is a real nail biter with a satisfying conclusion and I enjoyed how there’s never a moment when you think the ultimate showdown will come between the two patriarchs as clearly the formidable Louise is the Dalton’s best chance of survival against the runaway rage train that is Paddy. Unfortunately SPEAK NO EVIL, through no fault of its own, happened to be the first film I watched after the mind-blowing cinematic hand grenade that is THE SUBSTANCE and therefore sometimes felt about as quaint as a Holly Hobbie Chloroforms set in comparison. Nevertheless, this chunk o’ menace still operates like a well tuned STRAW DOGS-esque fret machine and its main pillar performances (McAvoy & Davis, natch) are super compelling, top notch and something to shout about.

I am over the moon to report that ALIEN: ROMULUS is the ALIEN sequel that I’ve been waiting decades for. Not only does it take place between Ridley Scott’s 1979 masterpiece ALIEN and James Cameron’s 1986 classic ALIENS but it cleverly borrows the best elements from both films (with a sprinkle of aesthetics from the excellent ALIEN: ISOLATION game). This is a machine that hums with the thrilling gothic haunted house vibes of the OG yet doesn’t shy away from the gun blasting, action set pieces that drove its most successful sequel (while wisely jettisoning the empty nihilism of ALIEN 3, the artsy quirkiness of RESURRECTION, the bloated pretentiousness of PROMETHEUS and the convoluted compromise of COVENANT (Not to mention the goofiness of ALIEN VS PREDATOR and the sloppiness of REQUIEM). BTW: despite this slander avalanche with the exception of COVENANT, I’m a BIG fan of the ALIEN series & it’s possible my distaste for that last entry is mostly due to loyalty to the great character Elizabeth Shaw who I believe was done dirty to an unforgivable degree). Director Fede Alvarez cuts out all the chaff, leans hard (and I mean hard) into horror and delivers a believable, grounded world occupied by two of the most compelling characters to ever grace the franchise. In fact, I dug it so much that I had to award it my highest honor which is to say that I dug into my moth strewn cheapskate wallet and paid to watch it a second time a few days after my first viewing (I couldn’t help myself, the movie is just so damn immersive and you know I’d do anything to play hooky from reality).

Plucky yet disgruntled Rain Carradine (Cailee Spaeny) dreams of living in a world where she can see the sun but instead she’s an exploited cog for the oppressive Weyland -Yutani corporation which has no issue grinding her down to smithereens and is already responsible for the death of her parents. Her only joy in life comes from gleefully enduring groan worthy dad jokes supplied by her synthetic sibling Andy (Incredible David Jonsson who deserves all the laurels and is instantly sympathetic, fascinatingly nuanced and literally impeccable in every scene). The two are presented with a possible escape from their drudgery in the form of a plan devised by Rain’s ex boyfriend Tyler (Archie Renaux) to pillage a derelict space station for sleeping chambers that would allow them to travel to greener pastures. What Tyler’s band of misfits really needs to pull off the caper is the talents of Andy who as a synthetic, can communicate with the ship’s computer system and allow them the full access required. Rain is desperate enough to take the offer and of course, nothing goes as planned. In fact, the group finds themselves trapped in a living hell filled with numerous beasties (both familiar and new fangled) and hurling towards an inevitable deadly collision (if they last that long- which doesn’t seem likely due to the wall to wall monsters roaming about cruising for nonconsenual hosts).

ALIEN: ROMULUS miraculously takes the tried and true trapped on a time bomb ship stuffed with ferocious creatures premise and consistently pumps fresh, imaginative life into it. Beyond the titular alien menace, the setting breeds many innovative dangers that creatively play around with gravity, room temperature, deadly acid and of course, the unreliable nature of elevators. Many times survival and escape seem absolutely impossible and the multitude of monstrosities feel completely overwhelming. Even the more familiar menaces appear injected with horrific new vibrancy. The film takes its sweet time setting up its merciless mousetrap but when the dominoes begin to fall it's a steep non-stop roller coaster ride complete with unpredictable turns and a sense of tangible peril. Further persuasion is supplied by a fantastic, nudging, triggering score that nearly throttles care of Benjamin Wallfisch (IT, BLADE RUNNER 2049). This is true edge of your seat business set up with a real time countdown to destruction that unnerves to the core. I tried not to but yes, I made audible yelping noises on several occasions but luckily I was not alone. Crawling through this collapsing house of horrors, I felt the whole theater was as enraptured as myself, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Now, to be fair, there is perhaps a few moments of regrettable wonkiness thanks to some overstepping CGI (don’t worry it doesn’t involve the very solid xenomorphs who have never looked better or more menacing). I was able to use my always handy imagination to slink past the offending blemishes but I understand that’s not going to be possible for everybody. The strange thing is that the eyesore in question could have been so easily avoided with some simple editing or PATTY DUKE SHOW camera angles but I guess they had to go for it (CGI hubris is a dangerous drug). In any case, it doesn’t effect the storytelling and I’m confident it will look better (or at least look less jarring) on the small screen in the future. It’s really just a visual flaw on an otherwise beautifully structured canvas and if nothing else it at least exists in order to provide one hell of a surprise for longtime fans. All in all, I am overflowing with gratitude towards any and all who made this long time coming, worthy (and truly horrifying) sequel possible. It’s like a dream (albeit a very nerve-racking and terrifying dream) come true.

It’s always a welcome gift when I stumble upon a horror movie from back in the video store days that I somehow missed. Manny (DR. GIGGLES) Coto’s directorial debut PLAYROOM (which oddly enough is based on a story by THE Jackie Earl Haley) was able to evade me for years as I confused it with another movie that I had seen (THE CLUB (’94)) because they had similar VHS cover art (or at least I thought so at the time). It’s all for the best though because I’m sure I would not have appreciated this absolutely bonkers movie back in my youth when I tended to think in a more linear fashion and was far less generous with horror movies that colored outside the lines or went completely off the rails as this one does. As fate would have it, now is exactly the right time for mine and PLAYROOM’s paths to cross because it is exactly the type of lunatic volcano you want to dive into in the dogs days of summer when the outside world is inhabitable and you have zero desire to mingle with boring reality.

For the most part, PLAY ROOM is all about kindertrauma. Chris (ubiquitous actor Christopher McDonald of everything from THE HEARSE and GREASE 2 to HACKS and the latest BEVERLY HILLS COP) has recurring nightmares about his childhood particularly that one time his entire family was killed while excavating a European monastery which housed the tomb of a ten year old rumored to be immortal Prince whose hobbies included torturing people and worshiping demons and also happened to be Chris’ not so imaginary friend (you know how it is). Naturally as an adult Chris decides to return to the crumbling tomb with some expendable friends to face his fears (and write a magazine article) but unfortunately his supernatural childhood buddy is still occupying the joint and the already tightly wound Chris begins to unravel to such a degree as to make Jack Torrence seem mellow. Complicating matters further, a mental patient (GHOST’s eternally typecast Vincent Schiavelli) who was was wrongfully framed for killing Chris’s family (it was kinda more the immortal torture-happy not so imaginary friend’s fault) is skulking around with a bone to pick and a pick axe to pick it with. Trust me, chaos ensues.

PLAYROOM offers a rather persuasive setting throughout having been filmed in what appears to be (for the most part) actual crumbling Serbian tombs (only a late in the game RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK ready rope bridge fails to convince). The sense of claustrophobia that abounds is not exactly DESCENT level but it works. McDonald though frequently grating and over the top, is at least authentically unhinged and the film sports many a familiar face to horror fans including Aron Eisenberg of AMITYVILLE 4: THE EVIL ESCAPES as the creepy ghost kid, Lisa Aliff of FREDDY’S NIGHTMARES as Chris’ long suffering girlfriend, Jamie Rose of JUST BEFORE DAWN as a clearly doomed bohemian model and FRIDAY THE 13th: THE FINAL CHAPTER’s Kimberly Beck in a one scene cameo as a secretary who gets to miss all the mayhem. Where PLAYROOM gets ruefully iffy (and yet wonderfully bizzare) is during its final act when it attempts to show the true face of its villain and he turns out to be a Chucky meets NUKIE by way of sickly Yoda puppet who when not picking its nose and eating it, stumbles around like a lopsided coat rack dispelling poorly dubbed threats and pleas not to be abandoned. It’s crazy looking, it doesn’t work, it’s probably why the film wasn’t released in theaters AND it’s also an awesome hoot. PLAYROOM is ultimately a hypnotic failure but its so memorable and so unique and such a lively ride (the barrage of final reel jump scare jolts actually do hit base) that I have to say I’m now a reluctant, not proud of myself in the slightest, fan.

WER (2013). Writer/director William Brent Bell is notably loyal to the world of horror even if some of his efforts (THE BOY, ORPHAN: FIRST KILL, LORD OF MISRULE) are more successful than others (THE DEVIL INSIDE, BRAHMS: THE BOY II). His stark, nearly documentary-style exploration into the world of lycanthropy entitled WER, though under-seen, could very well be his most impressive movie to date. A.J. Cook (FINAL DESTINATION 2, NIGHT SKIES) stars as Kate More, a defense attorney who discovers that nothing she studied in law school could have prepared her for the hairy pitfalls of having a werewolf (towering hirsute Eagles of Death Metal bassist Brian Scott O’Conner who is his own special effect and gives off worrisome George Eastman (THE GRIM REAPER, ABSURD) vibes) as a client. Easily one of the most convincing representations of a werewolf ever put to film, Bell’s grounded in reality vision is a breath of fresh, feral air that delivers believable, sympathetic characters confronted with startlingly credible (and highly rewindable) savagery.

HOWL (2015). Directed by Paul Hyett, the mastermind behind the creature effects in THE DESCENT, this wild and original ride impresses with inventive monster design, atmosphere to spare and an irresistible premise involving a werewolf outbreak on a train. Ed Speleers stars as ineffectual train guard Joe Griffin who takes over a late night shift for a sick co-worker in order to spend more time with his secret crush Ellen (Holly Weston). Unfortunately, the evening is far from the routine ride he expects as the train is derailed in the woods and efforts to get the excursion back on track are doused when passengers and employees alike begin to come down with extremely contagious cases of sharp toothed, razor clawed, glowing-eyed werewolfery (that could very well have been inspired by Lamberto Bava's DEMONS (1986)). Does Joe have what it takes to step up to the plate and deal with pestering passengers, rampant paranoia, a bullying coworker begging for a comeuppance and a slew of ever multiplying marauding beasts? The answer is surprisingly satisfying and goes far to ensure that this exceptional monsters run amuck flick always keeps you on your toes and assuredly differentiates itself from the pack.

Horror-meister Wes Craven’s high profile werewolf tale CURSED was rightfully panned by critics and generally shunned by audiences upon release. The movie about orphaned siblings Ellie (the always reliable Christina Ricci) and Jimmy (the always twitchy Jesse Eisenberg) dealing with a rash of Hollywood set werewolf attacks truly feels cobbled together from spare parts and reeks of murky logic, hesitant storytelling and crippling indecision (and ALL blame for the film’s inadequacies can be laid in the mammoth lap of sloppy saboteur Harvey Weinstein who notoriously threw wrenches into the flick’s machinery at every turn). Still, if you can squirm past the movie’s plethora of faults, it has an amazingly game cast (particularly Ricci, Milo Ventimiglia and an outstanding Judy Greer), pretty decent (when not sullied by CGI) monster effects (you haven’t lived till you witness a werewolf defiantly flipping the bird) and more than a few clever lines (care of SCREAM scribe Kevin Williamson). It’s a true crime that CURSED is never given the space or freedom to stand as the potential werewolf epic it might have been but it’s not without its fuzzy charms and if nothing else, it has at least morphed into an interesting time capsule over the years. Just make sure you watch the unrated version to squeeze as much blood from this messy but strangely entertaining misfire as you can.

LATE PHASES: NIGHT OF THE LONE WOLF (2014). As a rule one should watch anything that stars Nick (STAKE LAND) Damici because he could possibly be the coolest guy on earth and is the obvious heir apparent to Charles Bronson. In LATE PHASES he portrays a blind Vietnam vet with an adorable seeing eye dog who must contend with a werewolf in a retirement village of all places and the results are as fresh and original as they sound. Directed by Adrian Garcia Bogliano (HERE COMES THE DEVIL) and featuring a stacked cast that includes Ethan Emery (THE DEVIL’S CANDY), Lance Guest (HALLOWEEN II) Tom Noonan (MONSTER SQUAD) Rutanya Alda (AMITYVILLE II: THE POSSESSION) and Tina Louise (THE STEPFORD WIVES), this is one werewolf tail that delivers not only suspense, scares and and an impressive looking beastie, but a contrasting dose of touching family drama as well.

THE WOLF OF SNOW HOLLOW (2021) Jim Cummings wrote, directed and stars in this exceptional werewolf film that features stellar acting, crisp cinematography, superior effects and most importantly (for me), plenty of snow. John Marshall (Cummings) is a small town cop dealing with multiple savage murders while juggling AA meetings, a snippy kid and an ailing father (The great Robert Forster in his final role). I’d put this inspired eighties throwback right up there with the best of the best werewolf offerings as it is legit scary, genuinely funny, surprisingly soulful (the way it links lycanthropy with alcoholism is very clever), delightfully gory and impressively crafted all around. Cummings has a hilarious manic energy, Ricki Lindhome ( who was also great in the LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT remake) brings quiet depth to her patient detective sidekick and Forster is marvelous as always. I might have tweaked its final reveal a smidge but this is a definite keeper that I look forward to watching over and over again.

BIG BAD WOLF (2006) concerns a group of partying teens who travel to a remote cabin only to be attacked by a wise cracking werewolf. Written and directed by Lance W. Dreesen this should-be cult favorite humorously combines a werewolf creature feature with concentrated slasher tropes and the results are always fun (even if Dreesen’s fireplace mantel need not worry about making space for awards). Particularly good are HALLOWEENTOWN’s Kimberly J. Brown playing against type as a rebellious Tomboy with questionable ethics and TWO MOON JUNCTION’s Richard Tyson as an abusive father with more than just a chip on his shoulder. There’s just something about a talking werewolf with a Don Rickles disposition that I find irresistible and I must applaud the incredible gift of featuring OG werewolf royalty and permanent (in my mind) Dr. Pepper spokesman David Naughton as the local sheriff. If that weren’t enough, this horror comedy carries the card of indisputable quality in the form of the TICK inflicted, ICE CREAM MAN himself, Clint Howard. Sure, one may need to suspend disbelief for full effect but BIG BAD WOLF is a fun, gory and borderline witty gem that deserves a more generous reputation.

HARD ROCK NIGHTMARE (1988) If you’re looking for a werewolf movie that features questionable eighties anthems, sub-Elm street surrealism, a slumming Troy Donahue and inexplicable behavior from all involved than have I got a movie for you. Sure, it’s a bit on the terrible side but that only makes it more fun. A young child is tormented and teased by his grandfather who claims to be a vampire AND a werewolf so naturally the kid does what any reasonable person would do and waits for gramps to fall asleep and then shoves a stake in his heart and kills him. Problem solved! Years later, the now-teenager is in the coolest band ever “The Bad Boys” and offers his dead grandfather’s remote hideaway (its referred to as a cabin but doesn’t really look like one) as a great place to practice. Before you can say “why am I watching this?” a werewolf shows up and precedes to maul and kill anyone who crosses its pissed-off path. Directed by Dominick Brascia, who played the candy bar chomping first victim Joey in FRIDAY THE 13th: A NEW BEGINNING and whose directing debut was the equally lovably confounding EVIL LAUGH (1986), this cheese filled obscurity needs to be endured by all humans who enjoy micro budgeted homegrown absurdities. Sadly, Brascia passed away in 2018 so I’ll never get to tell him how much enjoyment this nutzo flick has brought me over the years.

WOLF COP and ANOTHER WOLF COP (2014, 2017) have you covered if you’re ever in the predicament of trying to choose between watching a werewolf flick or a buddy cop movie with strong eighties vibes. Leo Fafard is perfectly cast as ne-er-do-well small town cop Lou Garou (loup-garou s French for werewolf) who innocently investigates reports of local occult activity only to get knocked out and wake up with a pentagram carved into his stomach. Not only that, he comes to learn he's developed heightened senses, quick healing powers and the nettlesome need to transform into a werewolf (though he maintains his mental faculties and Canadian police uniform). Lou, along with wacky pal Willie (FINAL DESTINATION 2’s Jonathan Cherry) and super competent partner Tina (Amy Matysio) embark on an investigation of a far reaching conspiracy involving reptilian shapeshifters who utilize black magics to secretly control the town. The film’s sequel happily offers more of the same with most of the cast returning. Rowdy, raunchy, unabashedly off-color and stuffed with over the top violence spiced with old school make up effects, both flicks are sure to beguile those who howl for schlocky shenanigans.

WEREWOLF: THE BEAST AMONG US (2012) was originally intended to be a sequel to Universal’s 2010 remake of THE WOLF MAN but when that film failed to catch the world on fire (or even make back its budget) it was scaled down and transformed into a stand alone, straight to video offering. Directed by Louis Morneau (BATS, JOYRIDE 2) and filmed in Romania, this horror action mystery hybrid boasts surprisingly slick production design, a classic, almost fairy tale setting and a welcome assembly of familiar faces that include Stephen Rea, Mia Peeples and Steven Bauer (who is definitely having a good time). There’s a nice old school Hammer-ish charm to this creature feature involving a rag tag group attempting to eradicate a vicious village stomping werewolf who can transform at will (and is very likely to be a member of the hunting party). I can’t promise that it breaks any new ground or that you’ll have any trouble figuring out who the covert antagonist is, but for a film that skipped theaters and jumped straight to the home market, it is of much better quality, and is much more diverting than one might assume.

THE UNDYING MONSTER (1942). I often see this film besmirched as a lame rip off of Universal’s wildly successful THE WOLF MAN but I think no matter what spurred its creation, it unquestionably has a vibe all its own. I was lucky enough to catch this atmospheric beautifully shot monster mystery on late night cable one night many moons ago and it really stuck with me and actually became my own “Name That Trauma” for a while (until eventually the internet came around and a google search thankfully clued me in). Although this movie can’t boast that it contains a performance as indelible and winning as Lon Chaney Jr.’s in the more popular classic, there’s no reason to throw the transforming beast baby out with the bloody bathwater. The gothic interiors, twisty cliffside exteriors and all around seductive eeriness on perpetual display in this moody (and brief at 63 minutes) foray into family curses, unexplained suicides and lycanthropic activities should appease anyone who appreciates cozy black and white horror.