31 Days of HorrorWeen 2022!
What better way to celebrate the Samhain season than by reflecting on nearly three dozen genre movies?
By: Toxicka Shock
Toxickashock@gmail.com
On Twitter: @Toxickashock
On Instagram: @Toxickashock
On DeviantArt: @Toxickashock
Yeah, yeah, I know, it's hardly an original idea. Pretty much everybody and their mother does a "31 Days of Horror" marathon every October, and considering how basic my ass is, OF course I start putting my annual viewing list together around Easter.
There's no hard and fast logic to the list below. I tried to cover as broad a chronological range as possible, so we're taking this fucker from the 1910s all the way to movies that came out in theaters just a few weeks ago. And I definitely wanted to shake things up and get a nice mix of nationalities represented, as well as subgenres.
So, how did the 2022 playlist turn out? Well, take a look for yourself, why don't you?
Surely, Misogyny and sexual repression will be *less* widespread 103 years later, right?
The Plague of Florence (1919) | Otto Rippert | Germany
An eerily relatable silent film about a sex-positivity-espousing libertine being persecuted by Italy’s arch-conseratives, in the process causing a cultural revolution that irks the clergy to no end. So miffed by all of this “free love” going on in Florence — and especially their inability to stem the tide of sexual liberation — the church leaders beg the almighty to do something, anything, to keep people from casually doin’ it. Lo and behold, this zombified hag shows up in town the next day, and what do you know, she’s carrying a particularly nasty disease that’s about to cause 99 percent of the population to drop dead.
An early post WWI/pre WWII expressionistic work, The Plague of Florence was released years before the horror film, as a genre, was firmly established. Hell, this movie came out before MOST film genres were established. So it carries with it this very surreal, nightmarish quality — basically, it’s a historical drama imbued with some VERY creepy aesthetics and overtones, complete with a downright chilling final image of that aforementioned zombie hag gleefully playing a fiddle while sidestepping all the fresh corpses on the city’s streets.
Even though the movie was written by Fritz Lang, you really don’t hear that many people championing The Plague of Florence as one of the pioneering, proto-horror films of its day. And that’s a shame, because this is certainly one of the better (and more impactful) “pre-horror” offerings of the silent era. The cinematography alone is worth going out of your way to see this one — just don’t be surprised if it gives you the willies more than you anticipated.
Rating: 🎃🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Destiny (1921) | Fritz Lang | Germany
One part paranormal romance and one part historical epic, Destiny is a movie that really defies a singular genre classification. Using our contemporary definition for “horror,” Lang’s opus can hardly be considered in the same vein as something like Halloween or even Dracula. But it’s still easy to see how the supernatural melodrama inspired its contemporaries — and indirectly inspired countless genre offerings even decades later.
Destiny, essentially, is Lang’s riposte to D.W. Griffith’s Intolerance. Indeed, it even employs the same globe-trotting, chronologically-leaping hook from that 1916 silent era classic. Of course, this being a 100-year-old German expressionist work, that means the cultural appropriation is heavy in this one, with Middle Eastern and Chinese royals being played by VERY Caucasian actors. And since one of the vignettes takes place in pre-Renaissance Italy, yes, they DO have white actors in black face (technically, black everything) portraying the Moors.
Pending you can look past those woeful indiscretions (which, understandably, may be automatic dealbreakers for some viewers) the film itself is very well done. It may not be on par with Metropolis or M, but it’s certainly an ambitious and engaging little yarn with much better set design, cinematography and special effects than most productions from that time. You might have a few qualms with the film’s moralizing — especially in the final act — but on the whole, Destiny is a much, much better than average non-talky … and it’s evident how much it inspired the later works of Luis Bunuel, Ingmar Bergman and Alfred Hitchcock, just to name a few.
Rating: 🎃🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Monster (1925) |Roland West |USA
One of Lon Chaney’s lesser outings, and proof that horror/comedy hybrid misfires have been a staple of Hollywood for damn near an entire century. When even THE biggest horror star of the 1920 can’t make a standard spookhouse story work, you know you’ve got a lot of problems going on with the production.
It’s a convoluted plot, which is pretty funny since most people tend to think of silent horror as being too direct and uncomplicated. The first act of the movie almost plays like a goofball comedy, with leading man Johnny Arthur sticking his nose in a kidnapping caper right after he received a “detective diploma” in the mail. Things get a bit more interesting when he runs afoul of Lon Chaney’s sinister Dr. Ziska, but it’s not long before the film falls into a very predictable formula. There’s a minor plot twist about halfway through it, but from there the movie devolves into your typical, paint-by-numbers haunted house routine.
Even the mad scientist/laboratory hokum — usually the most entertaining aspect of these kinds of pictures — is pretty humdrum in The Monster. Not even a little light bondage (how else do you think that soul-switching transducer machine is supposed to work?) is enough to make this one worth going out of your way to see. Toss in some forgettable makeup effects and an ending cornier than a bucket of fructose corn syrup and you have all the makings of a mundane silent flick that should remain not only unheard, but unseen, too.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Doctor X (1932) |Michael Curtiz | USA
Here’s an unusual suspense/mystery/crime caper hybrid with a couple of interesting ideas and elements — unfortunately, all those ingredients fail to coalesce into a cohesive whole, or even one that’s all that enjoyable. Still, Doctor X has at least two things going for it — including some pretty gnarly looking “monster” effects, even if the “monster” in question is one of the artificial variety.
The other thing working in Doctor X’s favor is the deliciously douchey performance by the ham-tastic Lee Tracy, who portrays an unscrupulous newspaper reporter who will do just about anything to chase a story — even if it means breaking into people’s houses and refusing to leave. Without spoiling the twist ending, which really isn’t much of a twist, admittedly, let’s just say the much ballyhooed “Moon Killer” isn’t necessarily your run of the mill, pre-WWII genre flick psycho killer. Which ultimately proves both a positive and a negative.
The titular character (played with perhaps a little too much campy glee by Lionel Atwill) makes for an intriguing antagonist, especially when we learn how his obsession with cannibalism and “synthetic skin” are interconnected. Alas, pioneering scream queen Fay Wray is pretty much squandered in a paint by numbers victim-in-waiting role and there are a lot of doldrums scattered throughout the picture. Despite the pacing issues and a rather predictable denouement, you can at least admire this one for the top-notch cinematography. And thankfully, director Michael Curtiz would give us a MUCH better creature feature in just four years’ time …
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Walking Dead (1936) | Michael Curtiz | USA
Alright, stop me if you’ve heard this one before. It’s a Universal production starring Boris Karloff as a living corpse reanimated by electricity. Obviously, I’m talking about Frankenstein, right? Well, as fate would have it, that same description could also be used to summarize 1936’s The Walking Dead — which, thankfully, isn’t the outright ripoff the synopsis would lead you to believe.
It’s actually a pretty clever little crime melodrama more than a creature feature. Karloff — in one of his better performances — plays a patsy who is framed for the murder of a judge by a cabal of racketeers. Of course, it’s only a matter of time until he’s sent to Ol’ Sparky, except he gets a last-second reprieve … right after he’s been electrocuted. Here’s where the traditional horror elements start creeping in. A doctor uses an experimental device to bring the unjustly executed Karloff back to life. The good news is that the procedure works. The bad news? Karloff comes back as a creepily emotionless semi-zombie — complete with the ability to predict the misfortunes of those who set him up in the first place.
This one really caught me by surprise. With a name like The Walking Dead, you’d expect it to be a third or fourth-rate zombie flick, but it’s actually a really smart and gripping supernatural thriller. At barely an hour in length, the movie never gets caught in any doldrums and the cast, as a whole, turns in a great collective performance. Despite the lack of monster makeup and special effects, this is still an unexpectedly effective little genre picture — with an atypically satisfying ending for its time, too.
Rating: 🎃🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Ghost Breakers (1940) | George Marshall | USA
I suppose no one really goes into a Bob Hope vehicle expecting a horror tour de force. But on the whole, The Ghost Breakers is pretty amusing, especially the final act — which, much to my jubilant surprise, actually does manage to crank the creepiness factor up considerably.
As a lot of these screwball comedies from the era are wont to do, the plot here gets convoluted pretty fast. We’ve got mafia conspiracies and Cuban nationalists and cockamamie schemes involving heiresses in the Caribbean — really, it’s all just an excuse for Bob to get stuck in a luggage container and mug it up for the camera. While the first hour of the movie is a bit slow (and probably has one too many subplots getting in the way), by the time Hope and pals make it to the spooky plantation in Cuba the movie takes on a totally different vibe. Imagine, if you will, a live-action Luigi’s Mansion, complete with zombies, sentient suits of armor and spectral visions traipsing all over the place — only with WAY more casual racism than any first-person Nintendo release.
Really, the guy who deserves the most credit for the film’s (parital) success is Willie Best, who has the utterly thankless role of Alex, the straight-man sidekick who’s mostly limited to bulging his eyes out and acting confused whenever something spooky happens. Granted, it’s not the most glowing depiction of a Black actor in a horror-comedy you’ll ever see, but by 1940 standards, the role is *almost* dignified by comparison. Overall, it’s a fun movie, and the lighting and makeup effects are pretty damned impressive for its time. It’s a flawed movie, for sure, but at least it finishes strong.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
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| It's even more racist than it looks, actually. |
The Uninvited (1944) | Lewis Allen | USA
If you’ve ever wondered just how far atmosphere alone can carry a movie, The Uninvited is exhibit A. In terms of plot, pacing and acting, it’s a rather ho-hum wartime horror offering. Still, the flick manages to stand out from its contemporaries thanks to Charles Lang’s exquisite cinematography — which give us some of the best ghost effects of the first half of the 20t century.
Pretty much all of these haunted house flicks have the same basic premise. A whitebread couple end up moving into their dream home, but it isn’t long before they begin to suspect something is up with their new digs. For example, they keep hearing someone crying in the basement, but whenever they check it out … nobody’s there.
The highlight of the movie is definitely the seance scene. Indeed, it’s probably the best sequence of its type this side of The Changeling, complete with a possession sub-subplot that’s surprisingly scary for the timeframe. The grand finale, where we finally get to see the titular uninvited floating around and giving everybody the willies, is also well done — even if the ending itself is a bit flat. It’s a movie that crawls along at a snail’s pace, but as long as you’re patient and don’t mind largely implied and off-camera supernatural hokum, you might enjoy the one quite a bit. It’s not really my cup of tea, but I can at least appreciate the ambiance — even if, at times, that seems like all the picture has to offer.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Creeping Unknown (1955) | Val Guest | United Kingdom
Alternately known as The Quatermass Xperiment, the film itself is based on a BBC serial from 1953. Considering those origins, it’s no surprise that The Creeping Unknown feels a LOT like a stage production — and no, I don’t mean that in complimentary terms.
Look, there’s no way to sugarcoat it. This movie is slow and boring as hell. There’s nothing wrong with a movie taking some time to build up the tension and atmosphere, but The Creeping Unknown — even at a mere 82 minutes — just plods along at a snail’s pace, with the first major scare/monster reveal not even hitting the screen until damn near the one-hour mark. To say that the pacing on this thing is tedious is putting it mildly. At one point, the filmmakers squander an entire five minutes on a completely needless scene where minor characters do nothing but sip tea and engage in casual conversation. This movie easily could’ve been pared down to 60 minutes. And it would’ve been a much better movie for it.
Pretty much the only two positives going here are a.) the black and white cinematography — for which Walter J. Harvey certainly deserves some props — and the monster design. You don’t see a lot of the creature in The Creeping Unknown, but I’ll give the costume/makeup/special effects personnel some credit for treading well off the beaten path and giving us an antagonist that’s genuinely disgusting and unnerving, especially for its time. Sigh — too bad they could’ve wedged the monster in a better movie, though.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Monster That Challenged The World (1957) | Arnold Levan | USA
What a terrible title. I guess it’s hard to come up with one that would accurately describe what’s really in the movie — I don’t know, Ocean Centipedes Attack or something along those lines — but pretty much ANYTHING is better than that wordy and clunky-ass name. Seriously, out of all of the verbs they could’ve used, they went with “challenged?” They might as well have called this turd “The Monster That Momentarily Inconvenienced Quite A Few People.”
Not that it’s a surprise to anyone reading this, but no, this is not a very good movie. It’s kind of ironic that the 1950s is oft-regarded as one of the best decades for cinema as a whole, considering it’s probably the WORST overall decade for horror pictures. Calling the plot for The Monster That Challenged The World formulaic is far too kind. What do you know, it’s another creature feature from the height of the Red Scare about crappy looking irradiated insects eating members of the U.S. armed forces, only for said insects to be killed off in the most mundane way possible at the very end (betcha’ didn’t know that all 10-foot tall sea mollusks are deathly allergic to, uh, fire extinguishers, did you?)
Even I can’t play apologist for this one, and I’m the world’s foremost defender of throwaway cinematic garbage. The acting, the effects, the pacing, the lighting, the editing, the music — all of it is subpar, and by the time the end credits roll you'll have forgotten pretty much everything that happened in the first hour of the movie. This flick sucks and you shouldn’t waste your time on it.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul (1963) | Jose Mojica Marins | Brazil
Well, if you say anything negative about the oeuvre of Coffin Joe you’re bound to catch a lot of flak from the internet throngs. So I guess I’m going to have to tread carefully on this one. Which means, yeah, some of you are about to get mighty pissed off at me.
First things first, the cinematography from Giorgio Atilli is absolutely awesome. What this guy could do with shadows and black and white contrast is up there with the best stuff you’d see in an early Bava or Romero production. The opening scene, in which Ze the nefarious undertaker goes on a rant about the ills of religion, is also really trippy and fun. And the grand finale is just loaded with all sorts of neat and kooky visuals — even if you don’t like the movie, per se, you should probably check out the last 10 minutes just to see what all the fuss is about.
As for the plot, though, it’s a pretty underwhelming variation of “The Phantom of the Opera,” with a hyper-horny pseudo-rapist villain pursuing an unobtainable comely lass even though she’s already engaged to another dude. We get murder by spider bite, a home break-in with subsequent bathtub drowning and even a scene where a guy gets his eyeballs plucked out. Alas, the pacing leaves a lot to be desired and the gore effects are rather unremarkable. And you don’t need me to tell you how cheesy the acting in this flick is — which, to put it mildly, is really goddamn cheesy. Historically it’s a pretty important psychedelic-gothic horror hybrid, but in terms of objective entertainment, there’s not much here to really warrant a second viewing.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Viy (1967) | Konstantin Yershov and Georgi Kropachyov | USSR
There aren’t that many horror films hailing from the heyday of the Soviet Union, and Viy is definitely an interesting little relic from the height of the Cold War. I wouldn’t necessarily call it a great horror flick, or even a very good one, to be honest, but it’s still a movie worth going out of your way to watch at least once — even if it’s solely for the film’s beautiful cinematography.
Assuming you’ve seen Bava’s Black Sunday, you should be adequately prepared for this one. Essentially, it’s about a gaggle of monks who unwittingly awaken an ancien demoness … who, for whatever reason, REALLY enjoys getting piggyback rides from members of the clergy. Of course, it’s only a matter of time until our leading man finds himself bewitched, which culminates in an absolutely NUTTY grand finale where scores of hideous creatures emerge from the depths of hell to spook him real good. And rest assured, the monster design in this movie is downright superb — imagine a cross between the creatures from The Monster Club and the denizens of Nighbreed and you’re somewhere in the right vicinity.
The cinematography work from Fyodor Provoro and Vikto Pishchalnikov is nothing short of astounding, with some of the best lighting you’ll see in any horror movie from the 1960s. The set design is likewise outstanding, and the special effects — especially the flying scenes — are surprisingly well done. Alas, the story itself is kinda’ lacking, with really awkward pacing and a general tone that can’t quite seem to find the right balance between horror and comedy. Aesthetically, Viy is absolutely fantastic — but structurally, it does, unfortunately, leave quite a bit to be desired as a narrative.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
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| say what you will about the soviet union, those guys knew how to light a set like a motherfucker. |
Let’s Scare Jessica To Death (1971) | John Hancock | USA
This early seventies creeper is considered a minor classic in some circles. It certainly has a distinct atmosphere and ambience to it, but narratively, it’s a flick that takes way too long to find its way, frustratingly straddling the line between a proper psychological thriller and an outright creature feature bloodbath but never committing itself to either teased direction.
The acting is really good. Zohra Lampert plays the titular Jessica, who just got released from a mental health facility. Her husband decides it’s for the best if they move out into the countryside for a bit, but when they arrive at their new homestead, what do you know, there’s already this alluring yet unsettling redheaded woman named Emily (Mariclare Costello) squatting in it. Of course, Emily charms them both and they allow her to stay there. Naturally, Jessica starts to get a little suspicious/envious of Emily, and before long she starts having visions of the boarded in a much darker and more disturbing light. Of course, all of those scenes of Emily stalking the beaches in full vampiress mode are just hallucinations, right?
It’s a movie that has a lot of promise, and it definitely has a cool and eerie vibe to it. Unfortunately, it’s a movie that drags along, waiting until almost the last ten minutes of the picture before things get really kooky. Ultimately, it’s a movie that can’t really decide what it wants to be, and that’s a detriment to the whole production. It doesn’t really work as an PG erotic thriller, or a vampire/haunted house picture or a pseudo-pscyhological mindfucker. The ending is pretty well done and the lighting/cinematography is excellent. But when it’s all said and done, you can’t help but feel a little underwhelmed by the final payoff … or, really, the lack thereof.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Scalpel (1977) | John Gissmer | USA
Holy shit, where has this movie been my entire life! This thing isn’t just a hidden gem, it’s one of my favorite psychological thrillers of the 1970s. Imagine, if you will, a southern-fried David Cronenberg mindfucker a’la “Dead Ringers,” only with WAY better plot twists than anything you’ve ever seen in a Brian de Palma movie. This thing is GREAT and I can’t champion it enough.
Alternately known as “False Face,” this one is a skin-crawling degenerate cinema mini-classic focusing on Robert Lansing, a borderline psychotic plastic surgeon who brutally murders his daughter’s boyfriend and thus causes her to run away from home. It’s no great loss for Lansing — that is, until his father-in-law dies and leaves millions of dollars to his daughter in his will. Well, one evening Lansing encounters a strip club dancer from Atlanta who had her face smashed to bits by a bouncer. And since she’s close to being the same age and body type as his long-lost child, I think you can figure out where this one is headed.
Sure, you could read more details on Wikipedia, but I’d highly suggest going into this movie blind. Without spoiling anything, let’s just say that there are a LOT of great curveballs getting lobbed around here, along with some character developments/derailments that are nothing short of kinky with both k’s capitalized. Factor in the late 1970s Atlanta nostalgia (holy hell, that scene at Six Flags!) and an absolutely bonkers final five minutes and you have all the makings of a should’ve been B-movie hall of famer. I’m telling you, if Burt Reynolds was the main actor in this thing, it’d STILL be showing up in top 100 horror movie lists today.
Rating: 🎃🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Corpse Mania (1981) | Chih-Hung Kuei | Hong Kong
The vaunted and venerable Shaw Brothers studio is responsible for some of the greatest martial arts movies of all time. Unfortunately, their track record with horror films isn’t quite as stellar, and “Corpse Mania” — despite its gruesome premise — is yet another genre offering that fails to deliver the goods.
For starters, the movie is WAY too subdued and restrained considering it’s a movie about a psycho killer who LITERALLY robs graves so he can bonk rotten carcasses. If that’s the anchor point of your movie, you might as well go all out with it and be as gross and depraved and disgusting as possible. Alas, filmmaker Chih-Hung Kuei tries to make the material a little more classy and intellectual, shaping what should’ve been a puke-your-guts-out splatterfest into a VERY watered-down giallo-lite imitation.
The special effects and gore quotient are disappointing and the mystery-suspense elements simply don’t work. The acting is decent and the cinematography is pretty good, but beyond that, it’s hard to find much of anything to celebrate about “Corpse Mania.” This thing could’ve been an instant Category III classic had the filmmakers had the guts (and spleens, and kidneys and livers, et al) to show off the necrophilia and murder in all their stomach-churning splendor. But as a weak-kneed, slow-moving, hyper-predictable detective yarn, it’s obvious “pass” material for anyone except the most hardcore of Hong Kong horror enthusiasts.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Sole Survivor (1983) | Thom Eberhardt | USA
Well, if you’re looking for an early ‘80s horror offering that’ll put you to sleep, this shit works faster than Nyquil. This molasses-slow suspense-thriller doesn’t just take its sweet time moving along, it pretty much stops every five or ten minutes for a smoke break. This thing may only be an hour and a half, but it feels like it takes EONS until the final credits roll.
The movie starts off as something of a “Final Destination” precursor, focusing on the lone individual to not die in a plane crash. So we have the requisite scenes of our heroine going to a therapist and being told she has survivors’ guilt and this one psychic keeps harassing her and it’s only a matter of time until a bunch of zombie-like figures start showing up in the dark and really freaking her out. So yeah, all of that is more than enough to fill out a single movie, but just you wait! On top of that we’ve got another supra-plot about apparent VAMPIRES stalking the titular sole survivor’s friends, then there’s another supra-plot emerging about the grim reaper itself having it in for her, and then her best friend gets attacked by some random home invader and … exhausted yet? HELL, we’re not even halfway through the movie at this point, so you better be in fantastic mental conditioning to trudge through the rest of this fucker.
It’s a movie that’s gained something of a mild cult following over the years, thanks in no small part to its nihilistic ultra-downer ending and its eerie similarity to several movies that came out decades later. That said, the myriad components of “Sole Survivor” don’t come anywhere close to a satisfying whole, and unless you REALLY have a hard-on for grainy, zero-budget supernatural shockers from the early ‘80s, odds are you aren’t going to enjoy this one. Like, at all.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Future Kill (1985) | Ronald W. Moore | USA
This is a really curious little movie, considering it reunites a lot of the folks behind the original (and best) “Texas Chain Saw Massacre” flick from ‘74. That said, it’s not really the straight horror movie you’d expect from the ensemble. In fact, it’s a movie that has more in common with “The Outsiders” and “The Warriors” than “Eaten Alive” and “The Hills Have Eyes” — and that’s both the biggest attribute and largest detriment of the film as a whole.
Perfectly encapsulating everything that made the mid 1980s terrible, “Future Kill” pits a gaggle of privileged frat boys up against a cadre of anti-nuclear-weapon-proliferation crusaders … with the frat boys, of course, playing the “good guys.” What begins as a convoluted and multi-felony-charge-baiting college prank ultimately leads to bloodshed galore, as our preppy protagonists run afoul of a particularly violent radiation burn victim — who, in addition to rocking a sweet metallica face mask, also has no qualms about hacheting people to death for opposing the SALT II agreement (ask your grandparents, kids.)
It’s an extraordinarily dark and violent movie, and I don’t mean “dark” in terms of nihilistic. The cinematography in this fucker is LITERALLY pitch black at times and it becomes pretty difficult to tell what’s supposed to be going on. With virtually zero character development and most of the film taking place on the same sets, “Future Kill” is a movie that feels very inert and clunky. Even if you like vigilante movies as much as you do slasher flicks, this is one genre-hybrid that’s sure to bore aficionados of “Savage Streets” and “Slaughter High” proportionally.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
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| these marvel movies are getting cheaper and cheaper looking ... |
Killer Party (1986) | William Freut | Canada
Before the title cards for “Killer Party” even roll, we’re already subjected to about four or five fake-outs — including an abrupt cut to a fuckin’ White Sister music video — so from the outset you know this is the kind of horror movie that’s going to be lobbing twists and turns at you nonstop.
Not everything in “Killer Party” works, but enough of it does to make it pretty enjoyable (or, at the very least, never boring.) Like about 456 other slasher movies from the decade, the movie largely focuses on a sorority gearing up for hell week — complete with all of the quaint hazing and merciless abuse we’ve come to expect from such time-honored traditions — and sure as sugar, it’s only a matter of time until random supporting cast members stop dropping dead, the apparent victims of some mysterious psycho killer with a MAJOR grudge against higher education.
So after some gross tomfoolery involving raw eggs and a rather realistic faux guillotine, this thing kicks into subplot overdrive, with our killer revealed to be a connoisseur of the occult — which, naturally, means this thing shifts from a standard slasher into a SUPERNATURAL horror jaunt in the third act. Surely, the description make the movie sound chaotic as fuck (and it is), but for the most part, all of the anarchic action is kept tongue in cheek, with most of the mayhem played for laughs. The ending is probably going to irk most viewers, but up until then, “Killer Party” does a pretty good job of living up to its namesake — outdated hairdos and woefully unfunny sight gags, included.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
A Chinese Ghost Story (1987) | Ching Siu-Tung | Hong Kong
If you like horror movies with unique aesthetics, you are going to ADORE “A Chinese Ghost Story.” Alas, if you’re looking for a horror movie with things like depth, character development, suspense and a comprehensible story — well, you might want to keep looking.
The film begins with our hapless hero taking refuge from a storm in a mysterious temple on the outskirts of his village. Of course, there’s a beautiful woman inside who offers him aid and comfort, but wouldn’t you know it? Complicating their fledgling courtship is the minor problem that she may or may not be a ghost. Eventually, this results in our hero recruiting a good pal of his to help him slay a tree demoness that’s cursed his object of affection’s corporeal remains, and then the gates of hell literally fling open and things get REALLY wacky up in here.
The cinematography and special effects in this flick are nothing short of outstanding, and the editing job by David Wu is among the most influential of any horror movie from the 1980s. As a visual tour de force, “A Chinese Ghost Story” is definitely worth checking out, but the unfortunate reality is that — beyond the obvious eye candy — there isn’t a whole lot to the rest of the movie. The attempts at comedy largely fall flat and the horror scenes, while sometimes gruesome, never really generate that much dread or trepidation. Still, the lack of substance doesn’t doesn’t detract from the raw energy of the movie THAT much — more of a rollercoaster ride than a haunted house attraction, it’s certainly worth checking out at least once.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Paganini Horror (1989) | Luigi Cozzi | Italy
No, not the “Panini Horror,” which might actually result in an entertaining gastro-horror comedy. Instead, this is a rather generic supernatural splatter offering that tries REALLY hard to be avant-garde and intellectual like the best works from Dario Argento and Luicio Fulci. Needless to say, director Luigi Cozzi doesn’t quite cut the mustard there.
It’s a novel idea for a horror movie, though. It focuses on the exploits of an all-girl rock band, who eventually decide to plagiarize a long-lost violin composition by real-life composer Niccoli Paganini as their own. Apparently, this Paganini guy REALLY has a hard-on for international copyright laws, and it isn’t long before his reanimated corpse rises from the grave to stab, strangle and electrocute anybody and everybody involved with the thievery of his sheet music.
Unfortunately, the goofy premise is played way too seriously, the acting is wholly unconvincing and the film as a whole is plagued by pacing issues that bring the plot to a screeching halt far too often. The cinematography is nice and there are a couple of decent kills here and there, but on the whole, “Paganini Horror” is the kind of flavorless, traitless late ‘80s throwaway you forget about almost as soon as the end credits roll. Here’s hoping Donald Pleasance got a couple of extra lira for his glorified cameo appearance in this clunker.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Nekromantik 2 (1991) | Jorg Buttgereit | Germany
Hmm. How many different ways can I say “seriously, this is NOT for everybody’s taste” in one capsule review? Well, hearing even a truncated summary of “Nekromantik 2,” you’ll know right away whether it’s something you can stomach or something you’ll never, ever want to experience as a filmgoer.
I guess the good thing, narratively, is that you don’t really have to see the first “Nekromantik” movie to enjoy and comprehend this one. More or less, it’s a beyond-coal-black romantic comedy about a love parallelogram — with one of the parties involved being a putrid corpse with almost liquified flesh. So, uh, yeah … if simulated corpse fuckin is a hard pass for you, don’t even THINK about putting this one on your to-view list.
Overall, I think “Nekromantik 2” is a really good movie, and one that borders on the edge of being a genuinely, unironically great movie beyond its subgenre limitations. The special effects are gruesome to the nth degree, as to be expected, but beyond all of the gunge and gore there’s an actual attempt at telling a nuanced love story — albeit, one that eventually ends in decapitation and fossilized weiner coitus. There are times when the movie gets a little too arthouse for its own good (the segment featuring the skinning of a real seal, for example, could’ve easily been excised) but by and large it’s a very well-acted movie with much more character development in it than you might expect. Again, it’s not exactly the kind of fare suitable for everybody, but if you *do* have a high threshold for ick, I think “Nekromantik 2” might surprise you — and in more ways than just one.
Rating: 🎃🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Mahakaal (1994) | Shyam and Tulsi Ramsay | India
Well, the appeal of this one is pretty apparent — it’s a brazen “Elm Street” clone, except it’s also a Bollywood MUSICAL and KUNG-FU movie at the same time. No matter how bad the movie may be, who in the hell is going to turn down an opportunity to catch something like THAT at least once in their cinematic sojourns?
At almost two and a half hours long, “Mahakaal” is a movie that takes its sweet time. There are scenes in the movie that just aren’t ripoffs of the original “Elm Street,” they’re virtually frame-by-frame plagirizations. Of course, the budget constraints and special effects knowhow isn’t up to snuff with the Wes Craven original, but this movie DOES have quite a few things that no official Freddy Krueger opus contains. Like, uh, a dance-crazed Michael Jackson fan with homoerotic traits and characteristics played for laughs?
The deluge of out-of-nowhere love ballads and all-out martial arts brawls definitely gives the film an odd tempo and vibe, but after a while, you kind of get accustomed to the spontaneity of it all. Really, the “Elm Street” inspired elements are probably the LEAST entertaining portion of the entire movie, especially towards the end where the filmmakers try to recreate the grand finale of “New Nightmare” using Styrofoam sets and strobe lights that appear to be short a battery or two. It’s wildy, it’s wooly and objectively terrible, but holy shit, if I didn’t have a hoot and a half watching “Mahakaal.” Hell, I’ll take this over the 2010 remake ANYDAY.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Fear (1995) | Vincent Robert | USA
There were approximately 95,678 attempts to recreate Freddy Krueger in the late 1980s and early 1990s, and for every successful charismatic slasher that came along like Chucky you ended up with about 40 or 50 Rumpelstiltskins, Jack Frosts and whatever the fuck that dude in “Brainscan” was called. You can safely add “The Fear” to the list of lackluster “Elm Street” wannabes, as it features one of the LAMEST horror movie antagonists of the straight-to-VHS era — Morty, the wooden dummy who is quite clearly just a kinda’ short guy painted off-brown.
Don’t let the cameo appearance from Wes Craven at the beginning of the movie fool you. By and large, “The Fear” is just one long, uneventful slog, with a supernatural rule set that’s not only disjointed, but almost impossible to figure out. The gist of it is that this one college kid has invited all of his buddies to a cabin retreat so he can do some kind of field study on phobias. Eventually, the cast starts dying off in ways oddly related to their specific fears — drowning, falling, etc. — and it takes these dunderheads preposterously long to figure out things ain’t alright here. Factor in some VERY exploitative subplots about rape and incest and you’ve got a pseudo-psychological thriller that sputters out before it even makes it halfway through its runtime.
“The Fear” pretty much demonstrates just how bad the state of horror movies were in the mid-1990s. With wooden acting and crappy special effects, the best thing about this VHS shlocker is its almost 100 percent horrorcore rap soundtrack. Too bad ESHAM and The Gravediggaz couldn’t have been recruited for a better movie, though.
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Tumbling Doll of Flesh (1998) | Tamakichi Anaru | Japan
Alternately known as “Niku Daruma” and “Psycho The Snuff Reels,” although a more appropriate title for it would be “Rolling Ball of Shit.” As the case with most faux snuff/murder porn spectacles, the flick is ultimately more of special effects demo than a genuine attempt at filmmaking. And frankly, the much ballyhooed gore and carnage within it is nowhere near as vomit-inducing as its reputed to be, so even on the basest of prurient levels the film still falters.
The premise for the “movie” is about as simple as it gets. A young woman is recruited to star in a pornographic film, which means the first 45 minutes of this barely 70 minute offering consists of such rudimentary throwaways as the cast eating lobster and buying Oreos at convenience stores. From there the movie migrates into firm hardcore porn territory, albeit with all of the bushes digitally fuzzed out, as is often the case with Japanese adult videos.
Naturally, things start to go sour when the “filmmakers” elect to give our leading lady a hot water enema sans her consent. The final 20 minutes is basically just a cavalcade of bad makeup effects, although I will give them credit for that rather inventive potato peeler to the tongue torture method. Really, there’s nothing here you haven’t already seen before, and unlike films such as “Flower of Flesh and Blood” and even “Grotesque,” this one lacks any psychedelic aesthetics, kooky vibes or moments of gallows’ humor. It’s a thoroughly unpleasant film that lacks a real story, any sense of character development and is painfully slow — toss in the underwhelming torture porn grande finale and you have one “taboo” shlocker that’s nothing more than a woeful waste of anybody’s time.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Love Object (2003) | Robert Parigi | USA
Now here’s a movie that doesn’t necessarily work as a complete horror offering, but it works well enough in small increments that you can’t help but enjoy the totalistic production — even if it does have some pretty big failings throughout it.
Remember that movie “Lars and the Real Girl?” Well, this is pretty much the genre inversion of the concept, focusing on this peculiar and hyper anal tech writer with socialization skills that, to put it mildly, are a bit lacking. Eventually, he meets a woman at work and develops a crush on her, which she seems to reciprocate. The problem is, our (anti)hero isn’t much of a powerhouse in the sack, so to prepare him for some upcoming romantic encounters, he purchases a sex doll off the internet … which, fittingly enough, bares a mighty suspicious resemblance to his real life object of affection.
You can already deduce how this one plays out. As our leading lad’s sexual escapades intensify, he starts to have deeper and deeper mental breakdowns, to the point he starts hallucinating that the aforementioned sex doll is INTENTIONALLY trying to wreck his relationship. Of course, things eventually take a nosedive, and when they do, hoo boy, do we have some truly kooky and creepy shit going down. Yes, it’s a fairly predictable film and the characters do come off as mildly one-dimensional, but what the movie does right, it gets VERY right and, thankfully, the moments of tedium are few and far between. That, and who can resist ANY genre production starring Rip Torn as an office supervisor who has to explain the company policy on intra-office dating multiple times over the course of one movie?
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
The Woods (2006) | Lucky McKee | USA
Lucky McKee’s follow-up to cult classic “May” isn’t quite up to par, ultimately devolving into a predictable “Suspiria”-esque homage with an especially uninspired grand finale. Still, it’s a movie with a lot of style and energy, and if nothing else, you’ve got to love the relatively subdued performance from Bruce Campbell (which, really, is more of an extended cameo than a full feature role.)
Even though the movie is set in the 1960s, the boarding school denizens of “The Woods” speak using the vocabulary of “Mean Girls,” right down to our red-headed heroine being constantly referred to as “a fire-crotch” a’la Lindsay Lohan. Naturally, the headmistress of the school (played with delightful campiness by Patricia Clarkson) seems to be hiding something from the residents. Surely, it has NOTHING to do with those reports of witches hanging out off-campus and prancing about in the forest and casting spells on bitchy girls named Samantha, right?
Your fondness/abhorrence of the “male gaze” is going to go a long way in your enjoyment of this movie. There’s no nudity in the flick, but the camera just lingers on the almost all-female cast like a pervert in the shrubs — a bizarre cinematography choice that feels less creepy-effective and more creepy-just plain goddamn creepy. Agnes Bruckner turns in a fine performance as the protagonist, but her backstory is your usual jambalaya of maternal hatred and pseudo-psychological poppycock. We can pretend it’s anything other than the fetishization of “damaged goods,” but we’re just lying to ourselves. “The Woods” starts off strong, hits a lull and never really recovers — and that’s a pity, because the first half of this movie is really damned good.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
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| oh, so that's where that whole "Charlie, charlie challenge" thing came from. |
Spirit Camp (2009) | Kerry Beyer | USA
It’s a pretty decent premise, if nothing else — “Bring It On” meets “Friday the 13th,” with a gaggle of cheerleaders being dispatched one by one by a knife-wielding lunatic. Of course, the concept isn’t exactly new territory, and the execution — figuratively and literally — in “Spirit Camp” leaves much to be desired.
There’s a bit more character development in the first half of the movie than you might expect, even if most of the characters are largely played as one-dimensional stereotypes. The strong-willed, cigarette-smoking rebel everyone thinks is a lesbian; the rich, bitchy alpha cheerleader who thinks everybody is beneath her; and, of course, the head camp instructor, who has a disposition only slightly less aggressive than Ilsa, She-Wolf of the S.S. We’ll give them some credit for thinking outside the box with the requisite ditzy virgin character, though — you have to admire her taste in marital aides, if nothing else.
Unfortunately, the crux of the plot is all too predictable, with the kills rather ho-hum and the gore quotient pitifully low. It’s got the boobies and the weed smoking, but most of the attempts at humor fall VERY flat. Even worse, the filmmakers throw in this horrific rape subplot to drive the motivations of one the antagonists, which just feels cheap and sleazy all the way around. And no matter who’s watching this one, you are going to be VERY disappointed by the reveal of the psycho killer — geez, talk about an underwhelming ending!
Rating: 🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Pro Wrestlers vs. Zombies (2013) | Cody Knotts | USA
Well, you really can’t expect “Citizen Kane” part two going into a movie called “Pro Wrestlers vs. Zombies.” But even as an intentionally bad horror comedy — that is, presuming the filmmakers aren’t just gloriously incompetent and were being authentic here — this movie is virtually ALL fast-forward material, a slow, laborious slog that won’t thrill fans of zombie flicks or pro wrestling.
The one thing that the movie does have going for it, though, is an all-star cast of pro wrestling icons. We’ve got bona fide Olympic gold medalists like Kurt Angle showing up for a a few secs to lay the smackdown on the undead, and Rowdy Roddy Piper — yes, he of “They Live” fame — plays the movie’s primary protagonist, even if at this point, he was far too old and far too suck to do much in the physicality department.
If you don’t know who “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan or Shane “The Franchise” Douglas are, don’t even bother watching even the trailer for this fucker. This is a movie that’s really tailor-made for hardcore wrestling nerds, and if you don’t know the sordid real-life backstories of the characters (apparently, playing only slightly exaggerated versions of their in-ring personas), almost all of the film’s humor and even basic dialogue will be lost on you. Unsurprisingly, the zombie effects in this film aren’t terribly impressive either, and the gore and booby quotient is surprisingly low. But worst of all, though, is the soundtrack: in virtually every scene there’s some flavor of HIDEOUS metal-core butt rock playing at headache-inducing volumes. I think I’d prefer a heabutt from the late, great Bam Bam Bigelow over that shit.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Smothered (2016) | John Schneider | USA
Let me start off by saying that the director of this movie is one stupid motherfucker, as evident by a cursory glance at his Twitter feed. But even without the putrid political leanings of the former Bo Duke factored out of the equation, there’s no way around it — as a horror-comedy hybrid, Smothered doesn’t just falter, it flatout sucks.
Despite the all-star B-movie cast, there just isn’t a whole lot for Kane Hodder, Bill Moseley and Don Shanks to do in a threadbare “plot” that’s really just one painfully predictable cornball joke or chintzy sight gag one after the other. The actors more or less play caricatures of themselves, having to take up temporary residence at a trailer park while attending a horror convention in the marshlands of Louisiana. Along the way they encounter your usual parade of one-dimensional stock characters, and inevitably, some psycho killer starts bumping them off one by one. Yeah, real inventive stuff, I know.
In case you’re wondering where the title comes from, it stems from the psycho killer’s preferred method of execution — suffocating victims with a pair of inflatable breasts. Some of the gore effects are pretty decent — especially when Kane gets his face peeled to shreds via a rigged Jason-esque mask — but by and large it’s a movie sans any scares, any laughs or any purpose, seemingly. You might have some fun watching former slasher icons yuk it up on the screen like neo-Stooges, but unless you REALLY want to see R.A. Mihailoff do a gentle-giant scaredy-cat shtick, there really isn’t a reason to bother with this one. At all.
Rating: 🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Death Rink (2019) | Daniel Zubiate | USA
As far as no-budget straight to streaming slasher homages go, I suppose “Death Rink” is one of the better post-meta-ironic late 2010s offerings you’re going to find on Tubi. And that’s primarily because the film — by and large — shies away from being a legitimate slasher film for as long as possible. If you’re expecting another “Friday the 13th” variation here, think again — really, “Death Rink” has more in common with “The Breakfast Club” than “Maniac” or “The Burning.”
The backdrop for the film is the perfect setting for a slasher film — a skating rink, after hours, complete with “Galaga” and “Ms. Pac-Man” machines glowing in the background. Wisely, the filmmakers choose to NOT make the movie a 1980s period piece, instead giving us a glimpse into the unambitious lives of New Mexico roller rink personnel — you know, the types who are more concerned about smoking tea leaves and seeing who can write the word “bitch” the largest in the girls bathroom. Naturally, some masked maniac is lurking in the shadows (wearing an alien mask, of all things) and it’s only a matter of time until the cast starts getting strangled with payphone cords and having their jugulars sliced open next to the popcorn maker.
It’s hardly inventive material, but director Daniel Zubiate is able to keep the tempo going at a steady enough pace, and with a LOT more character development than most flicks of its types. Overall, the ensemble cast in this film is better than average, even if some of the actresses’ REALLY need to work on their imitations of dying. The murder-mystery whodunnit kinda’ unravels by the 45-minute mark, but it’s still a fun little movie. It’s no classic, but it’s definitely better than it had any right to be.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Hocus Pocus 2 (2022) | Anne Fletcher | USA
Everybody’s going to have a hot take on this one, and my complaints and praises are pretty much the same as everybody else. As far as strengths go, the first act is pretty good, and the scene where the Sanderson Sisters invade a Walgreens is an absolute hoot. I mean, as cynical as we all are as modern filmgoers, who among us can’t get a kick out of watching Kathy Najimy become lordess and mistress over a set of sentient Roombas?
Alas, the downsides of the much, much-belated straight to streaming sequel are just as apparent. Kinda’ following the same pathway as the second “Happy Death Day” movie, it almost feels like the producers were more interested in using the sequel as a launching pad for an all new, I.P.-adjacent TV show. And the “flanderization” of the Sandersons is very pronounced here, turning the murderous, soul-consuming witches from the first movie into stumbling, bumbling cartoon characters who have hearts of gold, after all.
The base is going to be broken on this one, for sure. On one hand, it does a pretty serviceable job of capturing most of the vibe and atmosphere of the original, and the triumvirate of Najimy, Bette Middler and Sarah Jessica Parker is every bit as hammy and fantastic here as we could hope for (the best line in the movie is from the vexed mayor of Salem, who refers to them as “the gothic Golden Girls.”) But ultimately, it’s a movie that feels watered down and almost cognizant of its own inability to leave up to the lofty expectations set by the original. It’s not a failure, but it’s not a success, either — long story short, I don’t think this one is destined to be a Halloween viewing staple for anyone.
Rating: 🎃🎃 ½ out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
Halloween Ends (2022) | David Gordon Green | USA
Everybody’s got a hot take on “Halloween Ends,” and it seems like there’s NO middle ground between people who love it and people who utterly despise it. But even if you don’t like it, you at least have to admire the chutzpah of the filmmakers for trying something WILDLY different with the done-to-death Michael Myers formula. It’s not a perfect film by any stretch, but at least it TRIES to do something new with a franchise that’s more or less remade the same movie a dozen times over at this point.
A film with more in common with “My Bodyguard” and “Christine” than the last two DGG ‘Weens, “Halloween Ends” is definitely a radical change of pace for the venerable slasher series. At first even I was skeptical, but as the movie dragged on, I slowly began to enjoy and appreciate what all four writers of the flick were attempting. The “evil has an understudy” hook doesn’t work 100 percent, of course, but it works well enough MOST of the time to keep you utterly captivated from scene to scene.
The complaints here are pretty obvious. For a Michael Myers movie, it doesn’t have ENOUGH Michael Myers in it, and I consider that a pretty valid criticism. That said, the movie makes up for the shortage of Shape with some downright fantastic kills (a goddamn acetylene torch to the face, ya’ll!), a great soundtrack loaded with deep cuts from The Dead Kennedys and Boy Harsher, and even a cameo from Darcy The Mailgirl herself. Not everybody’s going to like a movie that’s more of a sociological examination of the mass psychoses of Haddonfield, Illinois, than a straight-up splatter-fest, but I, for one, thought it was downright fascinating at times. Remember how “Season of the Witch” went 180 degrees the other way and people hated the shit out of it, only to retroactively hail it as a genre classic 30 years later? Something tells me the fickle and finicky horror fandom is going to have the very same about-face regarding this movie a couple of decades down the line …
Rating: 🎃🎃🎃 out of 🎃🎃🎃🎃
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