K. Gorewood's Horror Movie of the Moment

The Resurrected

2010-03-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

aka Shatterbrain

1992 / Dir. Dan O’Bannon / Written by Brent V. Friedman / Starring John Terry, Jane Sibbett, Chris Sarandon and Robert Romanus

O’Bannon, the evil genius behind horror classics such as the Alien series and Dead & Buried (incidentally, one of my favorite horror movie posters of all time), takes a story from one of his obvious influences, H.P. Lovecraft, and slaps it on screen in his final attempt at directing. O’Bannon passed away last December and left behind a career in horror that is far more valued for what he wrote rather than what he shot. Lovecraft, too, is often better in his written works than anyone has been able to translate on screen – of course, save for the still excellent Re-Animator. In this particular genre-conflicted mess, Terry plays a P.I. hired by Sibbett to find out what her husband (Sarandon) has been working on away from home. What he’s working on becomes less and less of an issue since the film takes so long to get there. The “investigation” setup has Terry narrating like a world-weary gumshoe worthy of a Hammett novel, with Sibbett’s leggy blonde dame acting as the femme fatale – two plot devices that went out of fashion in the 1950’s – yet the cheap sets and soapy acting feel more like a 1980’s melodrama. The few moments of good gore and frights turn to schlock with poor camera work (crash zooms, anyone?) Sarandon, however, is good as always, and from Fright Night to Bordello of Blood he has always remained one of my favorite horror film actors. **

Let Sleeping Corpses Lie

2010-02-23T15:58:00.000-08:00

aka Non si deve profanare il sonno dei morti
aka The Living Dead at Manchester Mourge
aka Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead
aka Don't Open the Window

1974 / Dir. Jorge Grau / Written by Sandro Continenza and Marcello Coscia / Starring Cristina Galbo, Ray Lovelock, Arthur Kennedy, and Aldo Massasso

From the start this is quite obviously a retread of Romero’s Living Dead territory, like so many zombie films in the early 1970’s that were influenced by his seminal work. But unlike those films, Corpses is genuinely scary with some great atmosphere and special effects, and a story that actually works. It begins rather slowly taking us from city to rural England, where local farmers are ecstatic about a new technique to kill crop pests by using a giant tractor-like machine and a wand that omits radioactive sound waves. The problem is, these waves also jump-start the nervous systems of slumbering residents of the local cemeteries, and the deceased rise from their graves to hunt for – what else? – braaaaaaaainsssss. Our heroes are caught between proving this to the police (and thus proving their own innocence) in what appears to detectives to be Manson-like crimes committed against families living in the countryside. The ending, like many of the zombie effects, will definitely remind you of Romero; however, this film feels more like a reinvention than a rip-off in a surprisingly succinct collaboration between Spanish and British filmmakers. The film on its own would probably have received 3 ½ stars on my rating system if not for the terrific introduction by director Jorge Grau on the American DVD, who asks that you “suffer profoundly” while watching his work. That’s the right attitude for a horror filmmaker – and definitely merits a half star extra in itself. ****

The Beast of the Yellow Night

2010-02-14T12:36:00.000-08:00

1971 / Written and Directed by Eddie Romero / Starring John Ashley, Mary Charlotte Wilcox, Leopoldo Salcedo, and Eddie Garcia

Hasn’t anyone learned by now that making a deal with Satan is never worth it? Joseph Langdon (Ashley) is saved from death by Satan, but in exchange he must become one of his devoted proselytes and carry out his evil bidding. This includes transforming into the eponymous beast and wreaking havoc on the unsuspecting Filipino public. Langdon then realizes he’d rather die than continue to perpetrate these horrors (duh). The film is low budget, yes, and there are certain expectations that one has regarding special effects (which are laughable) and set design (practically nonexistent). However, I’ve seen much better done for much less in other horror films. Some of the photography is so dark that the actors are barely visible – and one of the major reasons to watch Werewolf/man-to-beast films is to witness how the filmmakers depict the “change.” Beast, however, only gives us one lousy transformation, and not until close to the end of the film. The Philippines location seems incidental, when it could have been a good means of playing up the atmosphere. The are some good ideas in the script and I don’t fault it for being shot with little money – in fact, some of the best horror films are low budget because it forces the talent involved to be more creative than just acting opposite a piece of blue tape (which will later become a CGI dinosaur/critter/hobgoblin). In his career, Romero has churned out some gory, campy trash that always had an element of fun, making up for the lack of story and/or decent acting. Beast, however, lacks a great deal of what makes a Video Nasty so appealing – instead of reveling in its badness, it just falls flat. *

Baby Blood

2010-02-13T22:39:00.000-08:00

aka The Evil Within
1990 / Dir. Alain Robak / Written by Serge Cukier and Alain Robak / Starring Emmanuelle Escourrou, Christian Sinniger, Jean-Francois Gallotte, and Roselyne Geslot

We’ve seen the killer/demonic baby theme so much, it can stand alone as its own horror subgenre – Rosemary’s Baby, It’s Alive, Grace, The Brood, etc – in fact, “evil children” is one of my tags on this site to sort those films from the rest. What’s refreshing is that every now and then a killer baby movie comes along that is inventive, compelling, and departs from many conventions of the subgenre in interesting ways. Baby Blood (perhaps more commonly known as The Evil Within, but titled Baby Blood on American DVD) is one of those rare films that had me sitting up and taking note when things take a dramatic shift from the conventional all the way out to left field – and that’s where I like it. Emmanuelle Escourrou stars as Yanka, the beautiful yet disturbed wife of a circus Ringmaster, who uses any available opportunity to abuse her – though she is newly pregnant. The circus setting is eerie and eccentric in itself, and presents a creative stage for the evil “other” to enter the film – as an unseen entity that bursts out of the body of a captive leopard and inserts itself vaginally into Yanka’s uterus, thus taking over the body of her growing fetus. Are you still with me? Good, because it gets even better. Soon the baby begins to communicate with Yanka through her thoughts, demanding that she kill the men in her life that mistreat her – in exchange for a feast of their blood, which sustains the baby’s growth. This is the impetus for a barrage of over-the-top, gore-drenched murder sequences as Yanka reluctantly then tenaciously butchers every man who comes across her path (each possibly serving as an extension of her abusive husband), while simultaneously developing a maternal instinct to nurture the parasite growing inside her. Some truly remarkable camera work and deftly acted by Escourrou, the film is also refreshing because it is men who fight for their lives against a determined woman, turning the “exploitation” film on its ear. Dark and gruesome yet never taking itself too seriously, Baby Blood is an underseen gem in French horror that earns a high place amongst the greatest of all the “wicked children” fare. **** ½

Audition

2010-02-13T21:26:00.000-08:00

aka Ôdishon
1999 / Dir. Takashi Miike / Written by Daisuke Tengan / Starring Ryo Ishibashi, Eihi Shiina, Tetsu Sawaki, and Jun Kunimura

A gut-wrenching, pillow-clenching tour-de-force from the master of extreme Japanese cinema, Miike’s (arguably) best film to date is a seminal entry in the popular and controversial J-Horror phenomenon. Other leading entries in the movement, including Ringu, Ju-On, Honogurai mizu no soko kara, Janghwa Hongryeon and Gin gwai, have all received the Hollywood remake treatment (The Ring, The Grudge, Dark Water, The Uninvited, and The Eye, respectively.) Much of the content in the originals has been toned down in their American counterparts – even to PG-13 standards – so that many of the larger issues that the ample and often shocking violence and sexual content stands for in J-Horror is misrepresented or completely negated for the sake of raking in some extra box office dough from the lucrative 13-to-17-year-old demographic. There is no way that Audition can receive the same American treatment, unless the storyline becomes so sanitized that it becomes a different film altogether. The film starts innocently enough in comparison to the last hour, although the premise in itself is problematic from the beginning: Ishibashi (also of The Grudge) plays Shigeharu, a down-on-his-luck widower who is urged by his teenaged son to get back into the dating scene lest he continues to languish in middle-aged lovelessness. A film director friend proposes that he and Shigeharu host an audition and “cast” him a potential wife. The problem is, all the women auditioning believe that they are trying out for an actual role. The relationship that does blossom between Shigeharu and beautiful, demure Asami (Shiina) is already problematized because he lured her into his life under false pretenses. Turns out, it is not the first time Asami has been deceived by a man, and in the past she has exacted revenge accordingly. I won’t go into detail about what transpires after the first hour or so of the film, which is a melodramatic and oddly sweet (but eerie) courtship. The slow pace accelerates dramatically as we learn more about Asami and what she has in store for her new beau – but I can guarantee you, it is probably nothing that you could ever imagine on your own. Miike takes every spine-tingling moment to the very extreme of what many directors will show before they cut away, daring to elevate Asami to a vengeful anti-heroine, particularly in a culture where women have been subjugated for centuries. Because of how equally disgusting men are portrayed in the film, Asami may serve on a larger level as a distorted neo-feminist seeking redemption for her oppression – and a warning for all men who continue to perpetrate wrongs against the “secondary” gender. You may be tempted to look away, but Miike certainly doesn’t want you to – so take it all in, and see which side you land on.****

Note: this film is based on the original novel by Ryû Murakami.

Dr. Giggles

2009-10-13T11:58:00.000-07:00

1992 / Dir. Manny Coto / Written by Manny Coto and Graeme Whifler / Starring Larry Drake, Holly Marie Combs, Ciff De Young, and Max Anderson

Just glancing at the title, you might suspect that your worst nightmare about a cross between a diabolical doctor and a demented circus clown has come true. You are not that far off; this doctor is hell-bent on performing unnecessary and deadly (but that’s the point) procedures on his “patients,” all the while giggling like a maniac and dropping KILLER one-liners (“if you think that's bad, wait until you get my bill”). This campy little film is truly an overlooked classic of the slasher variety, just as the genre was winding down from its 1980s heyday. With imaginative kills such as suffocation by a giant band-aid, an overzealous stomach pumping, and a large thermometer inserted too far in the victim’s mouth (*shudder*), Dr. Giggles has some genuinely cringe-worthy yet creative moments. The villain is Dr. “Giggles” Rendell, who as a boy lost his mother to congenital heart failure, goes insane, and escapes the asylum years later to embark on a spree to rid his hometown of their health and lifestyle “illnesses” – unprotected sex, bad diet, etc. He then meets teenaged Jennifer, a girl afflicted with same poor ticker that his mother died from. In a twisted attempt to avenge his mother’s untimely death, Dr. Giggles stalks and kidnaps Jennifer to give her the heart transplant his poor mama never received. Sweet, no? Following a poignant turn as a mentally handicapped office assistant in the hit TV series L.A. Law, Larry Drake is terrific as Dr. “Giggles” Rendell, taking obvious maniacal glee in the horrors perpetrated on his small town while still remaining oddly sympathetic. With well-paced scares and moments that seriously merit some eye-covering – the scene that describes how he escaped his house as a boy still unnerves me – Dr. Giggles is nonetheless a very funny romp through the conventions of traditional slasher fare and a nice bookend to a genre that has since lost much of its bite. *** ½

Frankenstein

2009-09-29T16:51:00.000-07:00

1931 / Dir. James Whale / Written by Francis Edward Faragoh and Garrett Ford / Starring Colin Clive, Mae Clarke, John Bowles, and Boris Karloff

Director James Whale brings to life one of the saddest tales ever written, based on the groundbreaking 1818 novel by Mary Shelley. Both Whale’s 1931 Frankenstein and Kenneth Branagh’s 1994 film represent two forms of threats posed to society born of the same culprit: advancement in technology -- though the monster of Whale’s film makes a lasting impression as the more terrifying creature of science because he only has the most primal set of emotions, abilities, and anxieties. His reign of terror extends to all in the community who terrorize him, and speaks to our most basic fears of an entity of unknown origin who kills indiscriminately and is never able to develop or change his behavior. Still famous for Jack Pierce's iconic makeup, Karloff as the monster is mesmerizing behind his low-set brow and crude features, with an unmatched ability to convey the deepest of emotions with only a few guttural utterances. What is genuinely scary about Frankenstein's monster of the book that is so eloquently captured in Whale's film is that the monster combats his tormentors with instincts akin to a wounded animal, with no real apparent calculations for cold-blooded murder. His only real murder is depicted as a curious accident; with only the capacity to react rather than to reason, he is more likely to destroy what he cannot understand. This is a terrifying prospect, considering the Monster is treated as an immediate threat from the moment of his genesis; tortured with fire, whips, and confinement by Dr. Frankenstein and his cohorts. Even if this monster could begin to imagine a life living peaceably with others, he is never given a reason to want to join this race of men who have only ever ridiculed and abused him. The Monster may look "scary", but indeed it is society who is the real conduit of terror in Shelley's book as well as Whale's film; if men insist on perverting nature into something we cannot control, we all pay the price. Perhaps, most of all, the product of these barbarous experiments who do not ask to be an abomination, yet are forsaken for being so. ****

Candyman

2009-09-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

1992 / Dir. Bernard Rose / Written by Clive Barker and Bernard Rose / Starring Virginia Madsen, Tony Todd, Xander Berkeley, and Kasi Lemmons

Helen Lyle (Virginia Madsen) is a graduate student in Chicago writing a thesis on urban myths – where they come from, what they’re about, and how they’re perpetuated. The most compelling local myth is that of the hook-wielding Candyman, the son of a slave who was brutally slain for allegedly raping a white woman, whose spirit now haunts the gang-ridden slums of the infamous Cabrini-Green high-rises. Helen traces Candyman’s tragic past by following oral histories from her privileged academic setting into the heart of Cabrini-Green, all the while falling under Candyman’s rapturous spell and losing herself to his madness. Beneath the horror film façade, Rose and Barker create a deft portrait of the history of race relations in America from the slave era to those presently living below the poverty line in dangerous, infested, unspeakable conditions. Rose’s beautiful photography finds a sad beauty in even the most desolate spaces; the most striking of which when Helen climbs into a vacant apartment through a broken vanity mirror, only to realize she’s just climbed through the mouth of the terrified Candyman, his painted image on the wall frozen in an agonizing scream. The labyrinthine Cabrini-Green complex shares the blueprint of her own swanky uptown condominium, another indication that black or white, rich or poor, we are inextricably linked through our collective history. The film is lyrical in every sense of the word; Philip Glass’s unforgettable score enshrouds every scene with an eerie melancholy. Intelligently shot, written, and acted, there are many dimensions worthy of praise in this film; but on top of it all, the film still manages to be genuinely scary, and arguably one of the best horror films of the 1990s. I’ll bet that if you choose to accept the dare on that poster and try to say “Candyman” five times in your bathroom mirror, you won’t make it past three before the chills on the back of your neck give you just the slightest hesitation. **** ½

Rosemary's Baby

2009-08-24T21:19:00.000-07:00

1968 / Dir. Roman Polanski / Written by Roman Polanski (based on the novel by Ira Levin) / Starring Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, Ruth Gordon, and Sidney Blackmer

When a young couple move into a New York City apartment building which is hampered with startlingly nosy neighbors and eerie occurrences, the female protagonist of Rosemary’s Baby (Mia Farrow) must do everything in her power to keep her unborn child safe from harm. Indeed, the horror conveyed in Rosemary’s Baby preys upon mostly female-oriented fears: infidelity, invasion of the body and home, miscarriage and other anxieties surrounding pregnancy, and the subjugation of the adult feminine self. These “ordinary” fears common in women are amplified to such a degree in the film that they become a horrifying catalyst for Rosemary’s discomposure. Seemingly ordinary objects and situations are read by the female protagonist in the context of these feminine fears and are subsequently attributed a new, sinister meaning; as a pregnant woman, Rosemary becomes the apotheosis of these fears. Allusions to forms of evil creation, especially in the Gothic horror tradition, are present in the ways in which Rosemary’s baby is compared to the figures of Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster in the film. Already placed in a Gothic setting by the looming castle-like presence of the Bramford apartment building, where the film takes place (really the Dakota Hotel, the site of John Lennon’s assassination), the unborn is depicted as a variant of Dracula’s undead. Both the fetus and Dracula exist in a state which is neither fully living nor fully dead, and feed off the living for nourishment. When Rosemary’s abdomen pain ceases, and she feels the fetus move inside of her for the first time during the second term of her pregnancy, her eyes widen with giddy madness as she triumphantly shouts, “It’s alive!” For those familiar with the famous line from James Whale’s 1931 film version of Frankenstein, this exclamation becomes an insinuation that the baby Rosemary is harboring will be an abomination of nature akin to Frankenstein’s monster. Even the “ordinary” joyous occasion of pregnancy and giving birth is complicated by Polanski’s evocation of the horror into the everyday, and the audience can readily believe that the revelation which occurs in the final sequence of the film is a terrifying reality. The ending of the film is terrifying enough when taken at face value; however, the film and it’s famous ending could be the product of Rosemary’s delusional attempt to reclaim her feminity after being subjugated by all the men in her life she once trusted and the perceived loss of her child. If this is true, it may be even more terrifying that the viewer has experienced the entire film from the perception of a woman slowly going insane with paranoia. Polanski’s artistry ensures that any reading is possible, which makes Rosemary’s Baby a paramount exercise in terror, deserved of its place in the annals of modern horror filmmaking.*****

Don't Look in the Basement

2009-08-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

aka Death Ward 13 aka The Forgotten aka Don't Go in the Basement 1973 / Dir. S.F. Brownrigg / Written by Tim Pope / Starring Bill McGhee, Annabelle Weenick, Rosie Holotik, and Betty Chandler

Actually, you can look in the basement, because nothing much happens there. At least, not in this film. The company behind Don’t Look in the Basement were marketing their film during the VHS boom of the early 1980s in which only sensationalized VHS covers and titles would fly off the shelves – which explains why the box, like the ones that adorned many other films prosecuted during the “Video Nasty” trials in Great Britain – has little to do with the actual film. Nevertheless, Brownrigg and Pope have crafted a wicked little piece that literally reenacts the adage about “the inmates running the asylum.” From a man trapped in the fog of war and reliving his battles to a woman nursing a plastic doll as if it were her own living child, the patients at Stephens Sanitarium are dealing with a multitude of disorders and persistent mental torment that eventually propels at least one of them to murder. Dr. Stephens’ “innovate” therapeutic techniques allow patients to wield axes to vent their anger and wander along the grounds between patient and staff rooms in an unlocked facility. As it turns out, this was not such a good idea. As the screams and tirades of the mentally disturbed become more and more frequent and hysterical, so the violence becomes more extreme, and madness infects every corner of the asylum. Plotted with some decent acting and competent camera work, Don’t Look in the Basement is a kooky yet capable B-level entry in the genre that sends the viewer on a spirited descent into lunacy. ***

The Screwfly Solution

2009-08-10T13:48:00.000-07:00

2006 / Dir. Joe Dante / Written by Sam Hamm / Starring Jason Priestley, Kerry Norton, Linda Darlow, and Elliott Gould Based on the short story by James Tiptree Jr, The Screwfly Solution is a taut, chilling entry in Showtime’s "Masters of Horror" series directed by Joe Dante of Gremlins fame. Priestley and Gould star as a pair of Entomologists who are recognized for their “screwfly solution”: the systematic chemical castration of deadly male cane flies that will eradicate the species’ population in rainforest nations, thereby saving millions of livestock and communities whose lives depend on them. The problem, however, is that a similarly constructed pesticide has spread globally like an airborne virus in human males, causing them to lash out at women who excite their libidos – turning every husband, friend, and father into a potential murderer. Despite the far-reachedness of the plot, the film draws on very real fears from the abuse of power from the “dominant” male gender (and the war between the sexes that ensues), widespread incurable disease, displaced trust in authority figures, and the effects of global warming and species annihilation in the name of “progress.” Dante has tread the sci-fi path before in films like Innerspace and Twilight Zone: The Movie and has always managed to inject a sense of humor in his work; however, The Screwfly Solution presents an utterly dystopian view of the future of mankind, with no recourse other than to atone for the way we have similarly treated “lesser” species for centuries. Despite a somewhat disappointing conclusion, the film is a worthy installment in what is often a hit-or-miss series. *** ½

Death Shock

2009-07-30T16:51:00.000-07:00

1981 / Dir. Steve Perry (aka Ben Dover aka Lindsay Honey) and Frank Thring (aka Bill Wright) / Written by Frank Thring / Starring Linzi Drew and Frank Thring Shot entirely on videotape, this made-for-British-tv dud is a 47-minute exercise in low-budget and low-brow pornography. Though billed as a spoof of the campy Hammer films of the 1960s, Death Shock is completely devoid of the satirical wit that could have made the film a delicious send-up. Instead, the opening death scene – hilariously scored by Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain” – is the first indication that the filmmakers wish to relegate the “horror” aspect of the film to the background in favor of an opportunity to showcase some serious some T n’ A. While sex and nudity has been an integral component of the horror genre since Count Orlok fed on a hysterical, nightgown-clad minx in Nosferatu (1922), Death Shock is seriously misclassified as a horror film and was probably only banned by the BBFC – thus joining the notorious “Video Nasty” catalogue – for its prolonged and graphic sexual content. The IMDB profile of director/writer/producer/star Frank Thring, populated with such catchy titles as Triple X Files, Pornocide, and Barely Legal 16, reads like Ron Jeremy’s résumé. With co-director Steve Perry (aka Ben Dover, and no I am not making this up) also behind the helm, it is no wonder that Death Shock went the route that it did thematically. If you happen to check this out, don’t let the title fool you; the only thing that will “shock” you is that you actually rented a soft-core porno. No Stars

Drag Me to Hell

2009-07-22T16:32:00.000-07:00

2009 / Dir. Sam Raimi / Written by Sam & Ivan Raimi / Starring Alison Lohman, Justin Long, Lorna Raver, and David Paymer Despite its seemingly benign PG-13 rating, this movie is seriously not pulling any punches. From the very first scene when the title blazes onscreen in full-frame, booming glory, I braced myself for a rollicking, scary ride that didn’t let up until the bookend final scene. Alison Lohman (White Oleander, Matchstick Men) stars as Christine, an ambitious loan officer who denies a loan extension to a feeble old woman in a cutthroat move designed to secure herself a promotion. The problem is, she denied the wrong woman – a tenacious gypsy with an arsenal of deadly curses, including one that will cause the recipient to be tortured by a demon called Lamia before being quite literally dragged to the fiery pits of Hell. What ensues is two hours of some of the most oft-used iconography of the horror genre (up to and including digging up a fresh grave on a moonless, stormy night); however, the power of Drag Me to Hell lies in the energy and genuineness apparent in the way these constituents are portrayed. Raimi gleefully batters the viewer with depictions of insects and bodily fluids going in and out of different orifices, including projectile vomiting and spurting blood, that had the audience roaring with laughter to gasping in terror and back again in a matter of moments. Despite his foray out of cult glory with The Evil Dead and into the mainstream with films like Spider-Man, Raimi clearly has not lost his grip on his horror roots, creating a scary, funny, and unapologetically madcap achievement in the cosmos of modern horror. ****

The Birds

2009-07-20T19:55:00.000-07:00

1963 / Dir. Alfred Hitchcock / Written by Evan Hunter / Starring Rod Taylor, Tippi Hedren, Suzanne Pleshette, and Jessica Tandy Undoubtedly one of Hitchcock’s five best works, The Birds is adapted from a novelette by Daphne Du Maurier, whose Jamaica Inn and Rebecca were also made into high-caliber Hitchcock films. Tippi Hedren stars as Melanie Daniels, a high-society rebel whose attraction to hunky dreamboat Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor) compels her to take a weekend sojourn at his family home in Bodega Bay, a quaint coastal village north of San Francisco. Traipsing into the Brenner’s life with a pair of lovebirds in tow (a gift for the young Brenner sister, but really a signal to Mitch about her intentions), Melanie’s arrival coincides with strange occurrences perpetrated by menacing creatures of the avian sort – blackbirds, sea gulls, and even sparrows. Hedren, one of Hitchcock’s token “blondes,” is neither an incredibly great actress nor an incredibly likeable character (honestly, I wouldn’t mind if she got pecked a little bit more), but the film compensates for her shortcomings with first-rate suspense, dialogue, and supporting players. The film owes a great deal of its strength to George Tomasini’s masterful editing, which takes us from quiet moments to feather-flying fury with just a few carefully timed shots (it should be noted that Tomasini is also responsible for the most famously edited sequence in film history, the “shower scene” from Psycho). With one of the most unforgettable endings in any horror/suspense film, Hitchcock’s The Birds is a masterpiece of story, style, and suspense that is deservedly a venerated classic. *****

A Bell from Hell

2009-07-17T21:08:00.000-07:00

aka La Campana del Infierno 1973 / Dir. Claudio Guerin and Juan Antonio Bardem / Written by Santiago Moncada / Starring Renaud Verley, Viveca Lindfors, Maribel Martin, and Nuria Gimeno John (or Juan, depending on which version of the film you’re watching) has just been released from a mental asylum. He wasn’t crazy before he was admitted – he was underhandedly sent there by his spinster aunt and his three wicked cousins, greedy for a family inheritance that is rightly his – but he sure came out crazy, and looking for revenge. This setup is executed with a “Masterpiece Theatre”-style flair; brooding estates overlooking vast country landscapes, Victorian decorum, ornate interiors, flickering candles, and a camera that lingers lovingly on each. Intercut with these romantic images, however, are scenes from inside a slaughterhouse and the depiction of rape, torture, and disfigurement. A Bell from Hell is a very strange French and Spanish collaborative production with some scenes that drag and scenes that almost work. Though by and large flawed, the climactic murder scene – terrifying for what you hear rather than what you see – is enough to ensure that the film leaves a haunting impression for days after viewing. ***

Anaconda

2009-07-16T21:02:00.000-07:00

1997 / Dir. Luis Llosa / Written by Hans Bauer and Jim Cash / Starring Jennifer Lopez, Ice Cube, Jon Voight, and Eric Stoltz The scariest thing about this film is not the giant CGI snake. Heck, it’s not even the acting (although that is a close second). No, the only truly scary thing about Anaconda is the setting; entrenched in the Amazon, the filmmakers were actually able to pull off a seriously cringe-inducing scene where a scuba diver swallows a wasp caught in his oxygen tank. This and other hidden dangers of the jungle – including a discussion of the dreaded “penis fish” – make the setting easily the most fully developed and interesting character in the film. While many of the actors were on the verge of their big breaks (Own Wilson had just completed Bottle Rocket a year prior), even Hollywood veterans are not up to task; as a leery riverboat captain, Jon Voight’s shamefully bad idea of acting is to contort his face into a permanent grimace that looks as though he constantly is experiencing a foul stench. Despite all of this, however, Anaconda is surprisingly enjoyable if you’re looking for some schlocky special effects, killer one-liners (“is it just me or does the jungle make you really, really horny?”), and a something appealing to the eye rather than the intellect. If for nothing else, see it so you can make Jennifer Lopez jokes about the line in Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” that so eloquently states, “my Anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, hun!” Yeah, I’ve got a little schlock of my own. **

Alice, Sweet Alice

2009-07-15T11:23:00.000-07:00

aka Communion aka Holy Terror 1976 / Dir. Alfred Sole / Written by Rosemary Ritvo and Alfred Sole / Starring Linda Miller, Paula E. Sheppard, Jane Lowry and Brooke Shields The deadly implications of extreme sibling rivalry are depicted in the relationship between incorrigible Alice (Paula E. Sheppard) and her beautiful, obedient younger sister Karen (Brooke Shields, in her debut film role), whose shocking death incites the suspicions of family members and neighbors about Alice’s capacity to commit murder. An overwhelming sense of doom pervades everything in Alice’s life, including a domineering religious presence, a suspicious and manipulative aunt, and a lecherous neighbor whose grotesque obesity is only matched by his grotesque habit of feasting on cat food. Does all of this drive Alice to commit heinous acts, or is she being framed? While the acting and effects are sub-par, the film leaves a genuinely creepy aftertaste in the specter of how the killer appears; draped in a child’s yellow raincoat and a plastic mask with a painted-on lipstick smile, the murderer is at once doll-like and sexualized, a giddy harbinger of death. Alice herself represents the evil lurking within innocence, and she remains a question mark throughout a series of twist and turns that lead to a Don’t Look Now-esque ending. Certainly limited by a low budget and sub-par acting on behalf of many of the adults, Alice Sweet Alice nonetheless remains a haunting piece of film worthy of a stormy night rental. *** ½

Axe

2009-07-15T11:18:00.000-07:00

aka Lisa, Lisa aka The Virgin Slaughter 1977 / Written and Directed by Frederick R. Friedel / Starring Lisa Lee, Jack Canon, Ray Green, and Frederick R. Friedel With the potential to be a classic Southern Gothic fable, Axe is a disappointing exercise in the genre without any compensative energy or innovation that – not only because of the sparse 68-minute runtime – leaves much to be desired. The plot surrounds three fugitives who hide out in a remote farmhouse inhabited by a mute wheelchair-bound old man and his granddaughter, take advantage of their hosts, and then pay the price for their bad behavior. Poorly shot, poorly dubbed, and extremely poorly edited, this disjointed work could have utilized its eerie setting as the centerpiece of a truly compelling revenge tale, or in the very least could’ve had the potential to be a masterwork of the Grindhouse era (but then where is my humor, speed, gratuitous violence and nudity?) Instead, jump cuts, bright red stage blood, yawn-inducing murder scenes and tedious pacing that makes the film seem twice as long all collaborate to sign the death certificate on this clunker. (no stars)

30 Days of Night

2009-07-15T11:10:00.000-07:00

2007 / Dir. David Slade / Written by Steve Niles and Stuart Beattie / Starring Josh Hartnett, Melissa George, Danny Huston, and Ben Foster Based on the graphic novel Hard Candy by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith, 30 Days of Night takes us to an isolated Alaskan village where residents are preparing for a seasonal event in which darkness falls for 30 consecutive days and nights. Some townspeople choose to flee to sunnier climates; those who stay within the confines of their shadowy fortress are rapidly descended upon by a cohort of bloodthirsty vampires, who view the town’s winter predicament as the closest thing to heaven on earth they can find. With darkness pervading day and night, the screeching vampires are free to roam amongst unsuspecting townspeople in what is one of the most original setups in vampire movie history. The other predictable tenets of vampire fare are all-too-present, however: the “Stranger” whose entrance into a small town coincides with mysterious happenings; the fool whose impulsive, irrational behavior threatens to expose all remaining survivors; and of course, Josh Hartnett as our brave, self-sacrificing hero. The impact of some remarkable blood and gore effects are also lessened by the vampires themselves, whose pterodactyl-channeling shrieks and overwrought (acting?) brooding wear on the viewer’s patience. Whether you like it or not, you do “root” for the vampires in some sense – in 30 Days of Night, however, neither human nor undead side is particularly fleshed-out or likeable. See it for the unsettling atmosphere and gore, but take the performances and plot devices at B-movie value. ** ½

28 Weeks Later

2009-07-15T11:04:00.000-07:00

2007 / Dir. Juan Carlos Fresnadillo / Written by Rowan Joffe and Juan Carlos Fresnadillo / Starring Robert Carlyle, Catherine McCormack, Rose Byrne, and Jeremy Renner Months after the chilling events that took place in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later, quarantine efforts to contain the zombie-creating virus are reportedly successful and a brave group of survivors make the journey back to their homes in an attempt to reestablish the lives they once knew. It soon becomes apparent, however, that the containment was botched, and the virus again wreaks havoc on the public. What appears at first to be a retread of 28 Days Later actually takes the themes set up in Boyle’s film and develops them into an even broader statement about the tenuous faith we put in our government and military regimes, and the consequences of the abuse of their power in dire situations. One of the most alarming sequences involves a group of inexperienced, brash soldiers whose inability to discern infected beings from frightened civilians forces them to “pick off” all who enter their sights – men, women, and children, zombies or not. Fresnadillo’s camera techniques mimic that of Boyle’s with a digital/handheld feel, which achieves a chaotic, dizzying effect to the environs of safehouses, dark tunnels, and desolate cityscapes. Teeming with genuinely terrifying moments, 28 Weeks Later is an impressive sequel that captures the raw power and energy of its predecessor while expanding its grim undertones into new territories. *** ½

28 Days Later

2009-07-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

2002 / Dir. Danny Boyle / Written by Alex Garland / Starring Cillian Murphy, Naomie Harris, Noah Huntley, and Brendan Gleeson Forget everything you know about zombies. The days of staggering, clumsy, drooling fiends are over, as 28 Days Later and it successors (see review for the Dawn of the Dead remake of 2004 and 28 Weeks Later) have ushered in a new era of creatures whose “bump in the night” is now a swift progression of bumps headed directly for you. It is modern-day London, and a mutant virus is accidentally released from a research facility to wreak havoc on the population, turning them into rabid, unrelenting (and undead) killers. From the first scene, the viewer is subjected to a rapid-fire succession of violence that is unremitting from both zombified victims of the virus as well as uninfected humans whose dire circumstances force them to make impossible choices. Shot entirely on digital video, Boyle’s visuals are nonetheless epic in scope, from the barren starkness of a deserted London to the claustrophobia of imminent death encroaching at a breakneck pace. Even more terrifying than the fate that awaits those whose bodily fluids come into contact with an infected being is the depiction of the response to the virus from supposedly “protective” members of civilized society – the government, military, friends and loved ones – whose inability to save those in need is a harsh reality felt on some scale by all of us. Especially in the wake of disasters such as Hurricane Katrina, it is all too apparent that many are ignored, isolated, and forced into desperate circumstances by those in power who fail to act appropriately or at all. Be it a hurricane or a deadly zombie-producing virus, 28 Days Later is a parable on how even remote events can have an impact globally, and how we choose to respond defines us as human beings. ****