Sometimes these weekly themes are more rigid than others. This week is really more of a three movies I’ve always wanted to watch but never found the time and am now catching up with them than anything else. Of course, there’s a long list of movies that fit that criteria, so filtering by Sci-Fi Horror makes it easier to narrow down to three. All of which is to say that Sci-Fi is somewhat loosely defined for the purposes of this theme. I’m a big fan of science fiction and could probably bang out 10,000 words giving a good definition of the genre, but that’s overkill for the purposes of the Six Weeks of Halloween. Anyway, here’s three movies I watched this week:
The Incredible Shrinking Man – Richard Matheson has this knack for coming up with goofy sounding premises that he somehow manages to wrangle into grounded, interesting stories. This mode of operation was perfect for things like the Twilight Zone, a series where he contributed some of the more memorable episodes (most notably Nightmare at 20,000 Feet), but some of his pitches could sustain a full feature film too.
Due to a hand-wavey exposure to radiation and insecticide, Scott Carey is shrinking, slowly but surely. He eventually becomes so small that he begins to live in a doll house, and as he becomes even smaller, his home becomes an obstacle-laden wilderness. As he continues to shrink down to mere inches (and even smaller), he must survive encounters with the likes of house cats and spiders.
50s science fiction has a certain reputation as being a little silly or hacky, and reading the plot here, you can’t help but feel that the high concept is probably all their is to it. To be sure, the film delivers on the exasperation of exploring a familiar environment from a radically different perspective, and there’s plenty of action. The effects are often quite simple, but they remain remarkably effective, even to this day (when he gets really small, there are some shots that are perhaps not perfect, but they’re still quite good – I’ll take those over some of the weightless CGI slop of today’s blockbusters.) The cat chase is pretty fantastic, the challenges of navigating the basement to find some food are also quite well executed, and the spider is genuinely terrifying (it helps that they use the biggest, hairiest tarantula they could find rather than a simple daddy long-legs or orb weaver).
What you’re probably not prepared for are the dark, existential monologues that Matheson peppers throughout, particularly in the ending, which contains a bittersweet glimmer of hope. Again, it’s one of those things where Matheson takes what could be a deeply unsatisfying ending and turns it entirely around, even though all the unsatisfying stuff is still there. There’s a few elements that aren’t entirely baked (an abortive romance with a circus performer, the way his wife just assumes he’s dead), but at just 86 minutes long, it never wears out its welcome. Great stuff. ***1/2
Mimic – Guillermo del Toro began his career in Mexico with Cronos, a unique blend of vampires, alchemy, and del Toro’s distinct brand of fairy tale. This garnered enough success that he was able to make the jump to Hollywood to make Mimic at Miramax, which was apparently quite an ordeal:
“I really hated the experience,” del Toro said to the crowd at the festival. “My first American experience was almost my last because it was with the Weinsteins and Miramax. I have got to tell you, two horrible things happened in the late nineties, my father was kidnapped and I worked with the Weinsteins. I know which one was worse… the kidnapping made more sense, I knew what they wanted.”
Yikes. Apparently tons of studio interference here, but enough of del Toro’s style remains that the film is worth a look, and the idea behind the film is kinda interesting, though a little far-fetched.
In order to combat an emerging epidemic in NYC, an entomologist genetically engineers a breed of insect that will kill the cockroaches that spread the disease. The insect was specifically designed to die off after one generation but life, uh, finds a way. What’s more, their heightened metabolism has allowed them to evolve the ability to mimic their greatest predator, human beings. Hijinks ensue.
This turns out to be del Toro’s most conventional film, and while there are some interesting ideas bubbling under the surface here, they’re pretty clumsily presented. The cautionary theme of unfettered science is presented through overly literal exposition and on-the-nose dialogue; there are much better explorations of this sort of thing that are more subtle and thorough. The titular mimicry is an interesting idea, but ultimately, you are left having to believe that 6 foot tall cockroach monsters are walking around New York undetected (in the dark, from a distance, maybe, but with the creature design they have, it would not survive any real scrutiny). del Toro gets around this a bit with the way he frames and blocks these sequences, so it’s probably good enough, but this movie requires you to make several leaps that make suspension of disbelief a bit of a challenge.
On the other hand, the set design and atmosphere are impressively moody, and the creature itself is well done. Goopy and gross at times, these things all play to del Toro’s strengths. The more ambitious effects are perhaps a bit dated, but it’s pretty good for a low-budget attempt. The cast is actually quite good, with Mira Sorvino leading the pack as the entomologist who figures everything out, and Charles S. Dutton playing the thankless role as a subway cop who gets caught up in events (that guy deserved better in the 1990s, he always brings a gravitas to the proceedings that elevates anything he’s in…)
Unfortunately, perhaps due to the studio interference, the film’s pacing grinds to a halt on a few occasions. It’s an interesting movie, well worth a look, especially for fans of del Toro, but it’s not exactly a classic. **1/2
Maximum Overdrive – By the mid-80s, Stephen King had parlayed his phenomenal success in the writing world into films, with tons of successful adaptations, and he finally got a chance to direct his own movie, an adaptation of his short story, Trucks, in which a group of people at a truck stop are terrorized by a bunch of tractor trailers which have become animated by some unknown force and mow down every human they can find. In this movie, King expands on the concept beyond the Trucks of the story, with all technology betraying mankind, and the result is a fine example of cocaine-fueled 80s excess.
This is quite obviously not a strictly good movie, but man it’s wildly entertaining. I would say that it’s unintentionally hilarious, but I don’t know, I suspect everyone knew what they were doing with this one, even if they never actually wink at the audience. I mean, this is a movie where Stephen King himself has a cameo in which his ATM repeatedly calls him an asshole. Emilio Estevez is putting on some kind of bizarre accent. After the trucks start their rampage, the scummy manager of the truck stop whips out an actual rocket launcher and starts blowing up trucks (a trend from the 80s we desperately need to bring back). The vehicular mayhem is suitably destructive and frequent (something we also need to bring back: massive practical explosions). One of the trucks is inexplicably sporting a giant Green Goblin mask strapped to its grill. AC/DC provides the soundtrack. There’s a weird romantic subplot. The cast is a veritable who’s who of character actors, including the aforementioned Estevez, the woman who would go on to voice Lisa Simpson, Barney from Silence of the Lambs, a bartender from Deadwood, and probably a dozen other recognizable “that guy” or “that gal” faces.
Look, it’s not really scary in any way, but it’s such a singular oddity of 80s cheese that I can’t help but love it. I’m glad that King would sober up and mostly return to writing, because he’s just so great in that arena, but this is actually an interesting film to have under his belt. This is one of those things that sorta defies ratings, but what the hey: ***
Next up, some televised (er, streamed) horror. After that, I’m planning on a few things. I should probably catch up with the Terrifier movies at some point this year (ah, I see the new one just came out), and I’ve got some Neo-Slashers on the schedule too, not to mention a few other potential themes. A few other themes may have to be relegated to the Speed Round, but I wanted to watch some Fly sequels, horror musicals, and moar. Stay tuned!
Watching nothing but horror movies for six weeks can get a bit grueling if you don’t know how to pace yourself, by which I mean incorporating something a little less dour into the marathon so you don’t completely burn yourself out. I already managed to sneak one parody into this year’s proceedings, but it’s not like there’s a quota or a maximum or anything, so let’s watch a couple of Scary Movies. That is, movies from the Scary Movie franchise, a series of horror parodies that was developed by the Wayans brothers around the turn of the century.
Today, we’ll take a look at the first two movies in the series, which happens to coincide with the Wayans’ involvement (the series would shamble on under the leadership of Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer for a few more movies, and they would also attempt to expand the concept to other genre parodies, mostly to disastrous reviews.) I may get to some additional Scary Movie entries in the inevitable 6WH Speed Round, but for now, we’ll just hit the first two.
Scary Movie – As a genre, horror experienced a bit of a boom in the 1970s and 80s but had mostly run out of steam by the early 90s (still good stuff if you know where to look, but definitely not as popular or accessible.) That changed in 1996 with Scream, the self-aware neo-slasher that ignited a stream of mainstream deconstructions of horror flicks. This wave of ironic meta-takes on horror only lasted a few years, but there were enough movies to warrant a string of parodies in the Scary Movie series.
This first entry mainly spoofs Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer (including their sequels), and follows the stories closely. It’s a bit of an odd target. Scream and it’s ilk aren’t precisely parodies, but they’re already a comedic rendition where the folks in the movie know about horror tropes and joke about subverting the conventions. So this plays a bit like a parody of a parody, resulting in less scares and more jokes for sure, but it’s cruder and less intelligent. Which, like, has its place, don’t get me wrong (I like a good fart joke as much as the next guy), but I probably laughed more at Scream than I did at this. This is partly due to some dated humor (much of which runs afoul of current mores, especially amongst the gender and sexuality crowd), but hard as it may be to believe, things were like that 24 years ago (jeeze, has it really been that long, ugh).
The only bit that really hit home in a memorable way was when Shannon Elizabeth was attacked by the killer and gives a sorta play-by-play of how the tropes are supposed to play out that continues even once she’s been beheaded. That’s actually pretty clever and well executed. Plenty of othermovies (and, um, Budweiser commercials) get referenced, including some weird non-horror choices – in particular, there’s a big Matrix-style bullet-time sequence that seems kinda incongruous. I dunno, it’s not like other classic parodies don’t contain far afield references (i.e. Airplane referencing Saturday Night Fever), but they usually seem more in line with the main thread of the parody.
So this isn’t exactly a classic genre spoof or a must-watch, but if you can get past some of it’s dated elements, it displays a reasonable degree of cromulence and it made me chuckle a few times, which is always a welcome change of pace during the six weeks of Halloween. **
Scary Movie 2 – The gang is back, this time being invited to stay the weekend in an old spooky house at the behest of a professor who wants to see how their trauma (from the first movie) impacts the ghosts that are living in the house. Or something like that.
This time around, they take a much broader cross-section of the horror genre, spoofing the likes of The Exorcist, House on Haunted Hill, The Haunting, 13 Ghosts, and many more. Many of these movies had received prominent, big budget remakes in the years preceding this movie, but the general premise is something of a horror staple anyway, so this aspect tends to work a little bit better than the first movie (on the other hand, there’s nothing as memorable or creative as the aforementioned Shannon Elizabeth bit from the first movie). It’s only a year later, so you get the same crude behavior and style of joke, and while I laughed plenty of times, this ain’t exactly a classic either. Also, they do the thing where they spoof other popular movies of the day, this time Charlie’s Angels, which again, doesn’t really fit with the horror theme, but whatever.
I never really mentioned the cast when discussing the first movie, but most of them return in this one. The series is led by Anna Faris and Regina Hall, who are actually solid, have good comedic timing, and decent chemistry with each other and the rest of the cast. Shawn and Marlon Wayans are also doing their usual schtick to decent enough effect. David Cross and Tim Curry are always fantastic and provide a bit of a boost, but Chris Elliott is perhaps overused here and gets a little grating (I like Elliott, but he’s best in smaller doses).
Again, not exactly a classic, but it’s always nice to break things up a bit during a horror marathon. **
These aren’t exactly the best horror comedies out there, but I’ll likely hit up a couple more of them in the remaining weeks as a palate cleanser. Anywho, stay tuned for some Sci-Fi Horror (eh, loosely defined Sci-Fi), coming on Sunday.
As a director and producer, Larry Fessenden has a reputation as the patron saint of indie horror, but he’s probably much better known as character actor. He’s worked with tons of indie darlings, like Kelly Reichardt and Jim Jarmusch, but also big name folks like Martin Scorsese. In the past year alone, he’s been in Killers of the Flower Moon, MaXXXine, and Brooklyn 45 (amongst others). He’s mentored lots of young horror directors, notably Ti West and Jim Mickle, and probably others I don’t even know about.
Up until this week, the only Fessenden-directed film I’d seen was Habit. Ostensibly a vampire movie, it’s actually much more of a personal drama about addiction than anything else. After having watched a few more of Fessenden’s movies, this sort of genre mashup seems to be a common theme. Most horror genre hybrids veer more towards the sci-fi horror (we’ll tackle some of that later in the 6WH) or comedic horror, but Fessenden tends to prefer mixing drama and horror. He clearly has an affection for the genre, so unlike some of the prominent “elevated horror” entries of recent years, his films never seem like they’re embarrassed by their horror trappings, even if the focus might be more on the drama side. It’s an intriguing blend, so let’s take a look at a few:
Blackout – Small town artist Charlie develops a sneaking suspicion that his blackouts might not be caused by his binge drinking habit, but rather the thought that he’s actually a werewolf.
This is less of an original take on werewolves than he’s done with vampires in the aforementioned Habit, or Frankenstein in Depraved (see below), but it’s still reasonably well done. Of course, the werewolf story is set on the backdrop of a small town suffering under the thumb of a local power-hungry businessman who wants to build a resort despite potential environmental impacts (this guy is also an anti-immigration racist, despite the fact that he needs those folks to build his resort). Charlie feels strongly about the whole situation, but is mostly powerless to stop it, much like he can’t resist the full moon.
It’s a solid production, decent acting, plenty of low-key werewolf effects. It’s a low budget affair, so don’t expect incredible transformation shots or CGI movements, but the simple makeup works well enough, and Alex Hurt has the physicality to pull it off as well. Fessenden also uses our protagonist’s paintings in quasi-animated sequences (a pretty effective way to get around budget constraints).
The small town politics of the movie are ham-fisted and the writing is a bit melodramatic, but it’s got an earnestness to it that is hard not to appreciate. It’s not his best work, but it’s still interesting and it looks like he’s actually trying to set up a crossover with Depraved (mild spoiler, I guess, and I’m a little hesitant on this, but there’s precedent for the Wolf Man meeting Frankenstein after all, so why not). **1/2
Depraved – An Iraq war field surgeon with PTSD creates a living human out of body parts in his Brooklyn lab. As per usual, Fessenden loads this premise up with other themes, including ruminations on fatherhood and, of course, plenty of criticism of the pharmaceutical industry.
Fessenden is stylistically more playful here, despite the obvious low budget. This sort of DIY aesthetic can come off cheesy at times, but once again, the movie’s earnest nature forgives a lot, and the notion that he’s playing off of James Whale’s 1931 Frankenstein (more than the book) also helps. It’s a tad too long, drags a bit in the middle, and even once the “monster” escapes and engages in some monstering, there’s some awkward clunkiness, but the ending picks up considerably and ties things together well.
David Call and Alex Breaux give solid performances as the doctor and his creation, respectively, but Joshua Leonard steals the show as a tightly wound businessman hoping to reap the rewards of a new drug that made the whole thing possible (how he’ll do this given the clearly illegal nature of the experiment is left unanswered, despite literally being brought up in the movie). It’s nice to see that someone from The Blair Witch Project has made a career for himself, but still manages to seek out interesting roles like this one.
This is a better, more original take on an old story than Blackout. It’s a bit shaggy and clumsy at times and a little overlong, but it’s got a lot of heart. **1/2
Wendigo – A family on their way to spend some time at a country farmhouse hits a deer on the road, an accident that runs afoul of the local hunters who were tracking the deer and are now upset that their prey has been taken from them. This incident kicks off a feud that eventually conjures up the spirit of a Wendigo, a mythical, voracious, shape-shifting creature from Native American folklore.
The usual Fessenden pattern asserts itself: this wintery horror atmosphere with some light cryptid mythology is really just a backdrop for an exploration of modern manhood. It touches on the country/city divide that drives a lot of this sort of thing, but also gives three perspectives. City slicker George (played by Jake Weber) has his manly confidence shaken by the confrontation. Boorish country bumpkin Otis is humiliated by losing his deer kill and then getting scolded by George’s wife, played by Patricia Clarkson. George’s young son, played by Erik Per Sullivan (Dewey from Malcolm in the Middle), also finds himself unsettled by the encounter, which manifests as nightmares about Otis and later, the Wendigo. It turns out that there’s more simmering underneath the surface of the conflict, with potentially tragic consequences.
This is another film shot on a shoestring budget, but which manages an effective snowy atmosphere. The more stylized dream sequences or hallucinations rely mostly on editing and quick cuts, which are less effective, but work well enough. The Wendigo doesn’t really show up until late in the movie, and even then it feels more symbolic than literal. As an allegory for the various crises of masculinity the movie is going for, the Wendigo is actually a pretty good fit though, and I think this is probably the most successful of the three Fessenden movies I watched this week. ***
An interesting filmmaker for sure, though probably not for everyone. Next up, Sci-Fi Horror (this will be, ah, a kinda loose definition of sci-fi) and maybe some Scary Movies or televised 6WH action.
Hey, remember movie theaters? They’re great! I always try to make room for horror movies playing in theaters during the Six Weeks of Halloween, but releases are not always cooperative. What’s that? A hot director is remaking Nosferatu? Awesome, when does it come out? Christmas Day? Uh, ok. Um, what about that movie that’s, like, a slasher told from the perspective of Jason? No, that came out in April (but it is streaming on Shudder if you want to check it out).
Look, not everything has to come out around Halloween, but there are some years where the pickins are way, way too slim. Fortunately, this year is not one of them! There are actually plenty of options in the theaters right now, and I saw two of the more interesting, smaller-scale releases. One is getting a lot of play amongst the film dorks, the other is apparently way more obscure (and, admittedly, not very mainstream).
Six Weeks of Halloween: Week 2.5 – Now Playing: The Substance & Azrael
The Substance – Meet Elisabeth Sparkle! An Oscar winning actress who has aged out of big roles into a lesser, Jane Fonda-esque TV workout show. Even this more limited fame becomes jeopardized when the producer fires her, basically because she’s too old. Enter The Substance, a new, invite-only, black market cell-replicating drug that promises to temporarily create a younger, better version of herself. FDA approval is presumably pending.
A primal scream about Hollywood’s tendency to chew up youth and dehumanize aging stars (particularly among women), this movie has seemingly struck a chord with audiences. The premise is vaguely explained and a little sloppy, but thematically rich. On its surface, it’s actually quite blunt and not very insightful, but if you dig deeper, there’s lots to explore around addiction and self-destructive hedonism and empowerment. The things we think we want are slowly destroying us.
The casting of Demi Moore is perfectly suited to this story. As someone who built a career on her radiant beauty and became an A-list star, but who has seen diminishing opportunity as she aged, Moore basically is this character and her self-aware performance is fantastic. It’s the sort of role that people will call “brave,” which normally just translates to the fact that it requires a lot of nudity, but here involves a level self-reflection that must have been uncomfortable. Margaret Qualley might not be the obvious choice for the younger, better version of Moore, but also does exceptional work (apparently with the aid of some prosthetics). I think both would be deserving of awards season consideration… but I can’t imagine Academy Awards voters really connecting with the more lurid body horror elements of this story (more on this in a bit).
Dennis Quaid shows up in a small role as your typical scummy Hollywood producer (his character’s name is Harvey, providing a useful shorthand for those who don’t immediately get it). It’s a big, unsubtle performance (also brave, in its own way) that is accentuated by garish wardrobe choices and even filmmaking choices like fisheye lenses and foley work. A scene in which Quaid’s character eats shrimp is emphasized so dramatically by the closeups and sound design that it might single-handedly set off an epidemic of misophonia. Seriously, this film has lots of gross-out body horror sequences, but this particular scene is so viscerally disgusting that it more than stands up to the effects-heavy gore later in the film (which, to be sure, also features alarmingly well done sound design and makeup.)
Director Coralie Fargeat is building on her work in Revenge here in an interesting way. Both films benefit from her feminine perspective in a way that would probably not be possible with a male director. I suspect the way the camera lingers on Moore and Qualley’s bodies would draw very different responses if they came from male director. This movie might drive the Gen-Z anti-sex scolds a little crazy, but there’s lots of thought-provoking depth in this film if you’re willing to confront it.
Much has been made of this movie’s Body Horror (that gnarly sub-genre that explores the grotesque violations and general frailty of the human body), and as the side effects of misusing the titular Substance become clear and escalate throughout the film, we are treated to some truly nauseating gore. This is clearly not a movie for the faint of heart, as there are several virtuosic sequences that are genuinely unnerving and gross. Near as I can tell, they leaned heavily into practical effects and makeup here, rather than excessive CGI, and that just provides a sorta texture that makes the whole experience even more disconcerting. It’s important to note that these sequences aren’t entirely gratuitous either; they are used to emphasize the results of our protagonist’s addiction to youthful fame and the self-destructive consequences of desperately trying to cling to it by any means necessary (alright, maybe a little gratuitous, but still, there’s a point to it).
As a general rule, you can’t really talk about Body Horror in film without mentioning David Cronenberg, and his influence is definitely felt here, but I was also reminded of Brian Yuzna’s particular brand of Body Horror (notably in the film Society) and Frank Henenlotter might also be worth thinking about. Indeed, this film seems filled with tributes and homages, without actually feeling too derivative of any one source or too on-the-nose about it. Even influences as far afield as The Picture of Dorian Gray, Requiem for a Dream, and Nothing But Trouble get some love.
The intensity of the body horror can get a bit overwhelming, especially for a movie that is this long. There are some pacing issues, and Fargeat was seemingly terrified that people wouldn’t get the connections she was trying to make, and so she adds all sorts of flashbacks to scenes that just happened ten minutes ago. I get the impulse to do this sort of thing because, as mentioned earlier, the actual rules about how the Substance works and what is actually happening are a little cryptic (despite the Jony Ive-style concise packaging design for the Substance kits), but on the other hand, this is clearly going for a sorta demented fairy-tale vibe that doesn’t actually need every detail spelled out (to be sure, my dumb engineer’s brain has tons of questions about how this stuff works, what the relationship actually is between the doubles, and so on, but I’m able to go with it because the movie offers lots of other things.) As a result of this approach, some of the payoffs are undercut by repetitiveness, and it messes with the pacing. Paradoxically, some of what this movie so desperately wants to say (to scream) gets muddled as well. There’s probably a tighter, 100-120 minute version of this that would not feel as bloated.
That being said, it’s hard to fault a movie for being this ambitious and still largely successful at evoking a thoughtful response. I honestly didn’t think this review would grow to the length that it has (and I could probably make it even longer), which I think says something important. Indeed, I suspect a lot of the most interesting things about this movie are the ideas we bring to it ourselves, not so much the thuddingly obvious ideas it clearly wants to bash us in the face with. It’s one of those movies where the criticisms probably say more about the critic than the movie itself (I’m too tired to re-edit this post with this in mind, please be kind to me). There are plenty of quibbles to be had, but I was quite happy to see something this deranged in a theater with a bunch of people (the last half hour or so, in particular, are great to watch with a crowd of stunned onlookers). ***
Azrael – Many years after the Rapture, a young woman named Azrael is being hunted by a group of devout believers who want to sacrifice her in order to pacify an ancient evil that lives in the surrounding wilderness.
At least, I think that’s what’s happening. Due to whatever weird perversion of religion is happening in this post-Rapture world, the grand majority of characters have been surgically muted (in order to “renounce the sin of speech” as the film’s textual prologue informs us), so there is basically no dialogue here. Everything we learn about what is going on is done visually. This makes for a somewhat thin story of survival, but it’s at least action packed and visceral. With a runtime of 86 minutes, it never really wears out its welcome and it ends on a high note, with a diabolical and perfectly composed shot.
Samara Weaving plays Azrael and does excellent work, continuing a string of blood soaked performances that have earned her a devoted following. Due to the mute nature of the character, she’s forced to leverage her facial expressions and physicality more than you’d normally expect, and she’s up to the task. Other performances are similarly calibrated, and the characters are distinct enough that you can distinguish between them. The ancient evil in the forest is mostly played as a monstrous cipher. The movie effectively communicates that they’re attracted by the smell of blood, but the mechanics of when and how they attack (and why they would spare some people and not others) are left unclear. The creature design is perfectly cromulent, basically just burned/singed, slightly out of proportion humans, decent but not memorable enough to become iconic or anything like that.
The lack of dialog is bound to turn some people off and the simplicity of the narrative coupled with a stubborn refusal to elaborate on certain oddities probably won’t help, but I was really taken with this movie. It hasn’t been getting much traction, even amongst the mutant horror sub-cultures on Twitter or Letterboxd (where something like The Substance is gaining tons of attention). It’s clearly lower budget and has less star power, not to mention no discernable marketing, which probably explains some of it, but it’s worth seeking out if you like this sort of thing. It’s simplistic and probably won’t satisfy the “elevated horror” folks in the way that The Substance would, but I thought it was great. ***
Both of these are well worth seeking out if you like out of the ordinary horror stuff (and if you have a strong stomach) and will hopefully remain in theaters for a couple more weeks. Happy hunting. In the meantime, we’ve got a few Larry Fessenden movies coming on Sunday, so stay tuned…
Italian horror has become a staple of the Six Weeks of Halloween, with at least one week dedicated to the schlocky cinema of my people. This year, we’ll take a look at three flicks from perhaps the best known Italian horror filmmaker, Dario Argento (as such, he probably doesn’t qualify as an “Obscure Horror Auteur“, another common theme of the 6WH, even if he’s not exactly a household name in America and hasn’t made a notable movie in decades.)
Born to a film producer and a photographer, Argento was always on track to work in the movies and got his start working with the likes of Bernardo Bertolucci and Sergio Leone (even going so far as to earn a Story By credit on Once Upon a Time in the West) before directing his first feature, The Bird With the Crystal Plumage (1970). While not the first Giallo, it was a massive success and it’s generally credited with kicking the sub-genre into high gear. Argento would immediately follow it up with two more Giallos in 1971, creating a sorta unofficial trilogy of unrelated movies tied together by their Animal titles. We’ve coveredArgentorepeatedly over the last fifteen years of the Six Weeks of Halloween, but there’s still plenty of his filmography (including some heavy hitters) that I have yet to explore, so let’s jump in:
The Cat o’ Nine Tails – The second of Argento’s Animal trilogy went into production immediately following the success of The Bird With the Crystal Plumage and is famously one of Argento’s least favorite of his own films (I’m guessing the young director was pressured to crank this sucker out in a rush.) It’s certainly the slowest and most conventional of the three Animal films, a straightforward murder mystery produced in a mostly unflashy manner. This is disappointing coming from a director who basically embodies the concept of style-over-substance, but it’s not entirely without merit either.
In particular, Argento develops an endearing friendship between the two leads, a blind retiree played by Karl Malden (an Oscar winner slumming it in Italy) and young hotshot journalist played James Franciscus (of One of My Wives is Missing fame*), as they investigate a mystery involving a genetics institute (including a plot point that would probably infuriate current day, gender obsessed audiences). Something just clicks when they’re onscreen together, and even the young girl who accompanies Malden most of the time is pretty great in the role. Unfortunately, they split the two leads up often, the film goes on for far, far too long, and the story is too simple to justify that length.
Argento would obviously go on to bigger and better things, even in the same year as this one, as Four Flies on Grey Velvet features more of his visual trademarks, not to mention more unconventional plot elements, and he would go on to perfect the sub-genre with Deep Red (not to mention a few other solid examples of the sub-genre, like Tenebre). That being said, there’s still an element of pulpy fun crafted by a genuine weirdo here. It might be a little slow and go on too long, but it’s still a solid, middle tier Giallo. It’s only really disappointing in light of Argento’s other work in the sub-genre (which is mostly in that top tier). **1/2
Inferno – This is Argento’s followup to his most famous movie, Suspiria, and much like Cat o’Nine Tails, he’s unable to recapture what made the preceding film so great. It’s still quite stylish and atmospheric, with a couple of bloody and ornate sequences, it just really suffers in comparison to Suspiria.
Argento tries to recapture the visual motifs and primary colors of Suspiria, and it is indeed a visually striking movie. But without Technicolor (which really gave Suspiria a distinct appearance) it just falls a little flatter. Michael Emerson (of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer) takes over the soundtrack duties and does his best (the song Mater Tenebrarum is quite the earworm), but can’t really live up to the iconic Goblin soundtrack from Suspiria. There are several reasonably effective death sequences in the film… but none are as ornate, unique, or memorable as those in Suspiria. The story of Inferno attempts to flesh out the mythology of the Three Mothers, but this basically just amounts to several sequences of interminable and nonsensical exposition, and the film basically just ends with an unresolved whimper. A lot of folks don’t like the more conventional turn in the ending of Suspiria, but once again, I’ll take that over this nonsense any day.
It’s not the worst thing in the world and there’s plenty to like about this, but as a direct sequel, it really suffers in comparison to the first film. Argento had originally planned to do three movies, one for each of the Three Mothers, but didn’t get to the final film until 2007, which was not well received. You’re probably better off just watching Suspiria (and maybe it’s remake). **
Opera – Ah, now here’s the stuff! By 1987, Argento was moving past the conventions he had previously established while still managing to incorporate all of his calling cards (Black gloved killers! Metal soundtracks! Animals! Voyeurism! Tons of other nonsense!) without seeming repetitive or derivative. It’s probably his last great film, even if he continued to work for decades after.
There are elements of Phantom of the Opera and several other references here, but like Argento’s best work, he plays it a bit fast and loose with the plot while elevating the whole thing with stylistic excess. And boy does this movie engage in stylistic excess. The restless, prowling camera movements, unusual angles, and lavish cinematography are all leveraged to the full extent. It’s the sort of wildly creative style-over-substance that Argento is known for, and it’s all deployed with gusto.
It’s the best thing I watched all week, and it’s certainly the most memorable. He even manages to execute a perfect death scene involving a gun (usually a no-no for this sort of horror), a bravura sequence that rides the line between silly and stylish fun incredibly well. It’s the sort of virtuoso exercise that justifies trawling through a long filmography to find the gems. ***
The intervening decades have not been quite as kind to Argento. His 90s seem filled with moderately well received films, but clearly something was lost, and his more recent works are almost uniformly despised. I may have to check out one of these recent disasters, Dracula 3D, just because I’m still on a bit of a Dracula kick, but I’m not expecting much.
* – Just kidding. One of My Wives Is Missing is one of those obscure TV movies from the seventies that no one has seen, but hey, it’s available on Amazon Prime and is actually pretty fun (if a bit silly).
Bram Stoker created the character of Count Dracula in his 1897 novel Dracula, and perhaps owing to the novel’s swift entrance into the public domain (at least, in the USA), he has appeared in more films than any other character, fictional or otherwise, except for Sherlock Holmes (which, incidentally, includes stories with both characters.) There have been over 30 straight movie adaptations of the novel and countless ancillary appearances, not to mention inclusions in television, stage, and other literature. Just last year, we had two Dracula-adjacent flicks with major releases (more on one of them below), and we’re about to get another Nosferatu from Robert Eggers later this year (not to mention the rumored Sci-Fi Western version of Dracula from Chloé Zhao), so the character has proven quite resilient.
I actually kicked off the Six Weeks of Halloween a little early by listening to the Audible Edition Audiobook, which was fantastic (I want to say that I read this in my teen years, but honestly, a lot of this felt new, so maybe I never got too far back then), and have been going through a Dracula kick in movies as well. We’ll most likely see more of these in the inevitable 6WH Speed Round, but here are three new-to-me Dracula flicks:
The Last Voyage of the Demeter – On paper, this movie seems like it should work like gangbusters. Based on a short (about 5 pages) but evocative and memorable excerpt from Stoker’s original novel about Dracula’s voyage from Carpathia to London where it’s implied that he murders the entire crew, it’s an interesting pressure-cooker of a premise that leaves plenty of room to fill in details (even if we sorta how it will end). The sea is dope! The cast is filled with solid character actors doing yeoman’s work. The director and crew are also known for their sturdycraftsmanship. Add this all together, and somehow, you get a bit of a slog.
Perhaps this is because we know where this is likely to end up, which robs some of the impact of the deaths, even the more gratuitous ones (there’s a child and dog onboard, but their fate is pretty much a foregone conclusion, despite some solid tension being developed in isolated sequences). It’s definitely a bit too long. Clocking in at nearly 2 hours, it really stagnates once you get underway, which is weird, because the characters are a little thin and underdeveloped too. The plans our heroes devise to combat the creature aren’t very clever and they’re obviously ineffective (and, well, they can’t be that successful, least the story diverge too far from the source). I guess the premise isn’t quite the slam dunk it might seem upon first glance. I’d be curious how well it would work if you cut out 20-30 minutes and then withheld the names of Dracula and maybe even the Demeter (to throw us nerds off the scent) until much later in the movie. It might make for a better film, but I’m guessing a studio would never go for that – the marketing kinda hinges on Dracula.
Speaking of whom, this is an interesting take on the classic fiend. Over the last 125 years of countless appearances in film, television, and more, Dracula has suffered from Flanderization, where a character’s initial complexity gets distilled and simplified to the point where they become almost a caricature of themselves. With Dracula, this has usually taken the form of overemphasis on his sex appeal and adding an element of gothic melodrama to his story. Often, the truly monstrous nature of the character is downplayed in favor of providing a sympathetic backstory or a romantic subtext. Take this to its logical conclusion and you wind up with the sparkly lovestruck vampires of Twilight or the horndogs of True Blood. The interesting thing about The Last Voyage of the Demeter is that it has also Flanderized Dracula, just in the opposite, more monstrous direction. It’s an approach I’d normally approve of, especially if his identity was withheld until later in the movie, but all we really see is a generic boogeyman who pops up to slaughter a crewman every few minutes. It’s still interesting and the creature design is well done, but it feels a bit off for Dracula (who has more personality and cunning than we see here)…
The other major criticism this movie has garnered is with the ending, a transparent attempt to set up a sequel in which our hero (who, spoiler alert, does manage to become the sole human survivor of the Demeter) vows to hunt down Dracula. I guess the implication is that he’ll hook up with Van Helsing and friends later down the pike, but since this character doesn’t appear in the novel, I like to think that his quest for revenge is completely fruitless and that the sequel would just be him constantly three steps behind Dracula and two steps behind Van Helsing until they all finally meet up and he sees that Drac is already dead. This movie also suffers a bit from the modern cinematographic obsession with overly dark photography. It’s far from the worst offender, and it’s clear that the director and cinematographer know what they’re doing because much of the movie looks great, but the calibration is just off on some sequences, which are far too murky and dark (particularly the opening and fog soaked ending). Ultimately, there’s lots to like about the movie, but nothing quite coheres the way it should. **
Dracula: Dead and Loving It – I suppose it was inevitable that the man who made Young Frankenstein would eventually take on the other major Universal monster, and thus we get this surprisingly bland take on Dracula. Mel Brooks is obviously a fan of those original Universal monster movies, and this is clearly patterned after Tod Browning’s 1931 adaptation of Dracula. Indeed, this movie plays mostly like a straight remake of that film, with some light jokes scattered around for good measure.
The problem is that the joke density is quite low, and much of what’s there doesn’t land very well. There are a few good bits though. There’s a running gag about Dracula’s shadow (a clear reference to Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which had come out only a few years earlier) that’s pretty good, and I love the splatstick bit when Harker drives the stake into Lucy’s heart. Leslie Neilson plays the titular Dracula to decent enough effect, and I like the way Peter MacNicol hams it up as Renfield. Mel Brooks himself shows up as Van Helsing, and he’s pretty good onscreen, even if his work behind the camera isn’t particularly great. I wonder if this movie would look better if it were just shot in black and white? As it is, it feels visually uninspired and flat.
I don’t know, I chuckled a few times and it’s always nice to sprinkle some comedies in with all the horror during this sort of marathon, but it’s also lethargic and largely unsuccessful. I could see it striking a chord if you saw it at a certain age, and I bet if I had seen this back when it came out, I might have a pleasant nostalgia for it today. It’s hard not to like a Dracula movie staring Leslie Neilson directed by Mel Brooks, but they gave it their best shot, and it’s nowhere near Brooks’ best work. **
Dracula (1974) – Dan Curtis (of Dark Shadows fame) directed and Richard Matheson (of I Am Legend fame) wrote this relatively straightforward adaptation of Stoker’s novel. The most notable changes here are introducing the idea that Dracula is Vlad the Impaler (implied by the novel, but not explicitly stated) and adding a romantic subplot involving Dracula and a woman who resembles his deceased wife (in this case, Lucy Westenra). Both points would become a prominent part of Coppola’s Dracula in the 1990s, which expanded the ideas further. There are lots of other changes: Jonathan Harker is killed early on and comes back as a vampire thrall during the final showdown, and several major characters are excised altogether, including Renfield, John Seward, and Quincey Morris.
Jack Palance plays the Count here, to pretty good effect. He brings a certain stoic physicality to the role, but also shows some yearning towards his long lost love that injects a bittersweet note. He’s not quite as otherworldly or memorable as Bela Lugosi, but Palance brings a peculiar cadence that is fitting for the part. Unfortunately, the cast surrounding him isn’t quite up to the task. In particular, the Van Helsing is quite lacking, but the rest of the cast can’t quite hold the line either. Visually, Curtis does what he can, and it has some nice compositions, but that can’t really make up for the rest of it. This is definitely an interesting adaptation in that it introduces some ideas that would influence future takes on Drac, but it ultimately does come down somewhere in the middle of the pack of straight Dracula adaptations… **
Again, I will most definitely be watching more Dracula and Dracula-adjacent movies during the next six weeks, but they’ll probably have to wait for the traditional Speed Round. In the meantime, stay tuned for some Dario Argento, coming on Sunday…
In Robert Aickman’s short story “Ringing the Changes,” a surreal crowd of townfolk parade through the streets chanting:
The living and the dead dance together. Now’s the time. Now’s the place. Now’s the weather.
When I read it a few years ago, I found it to be a fittingly macabre slogan for The Six Weeks of Halloween as a concept. As we approach Autumn, there’s a chill in the air, leaves are changing color and falling from their trees, people start breaking out their sweaters and adorning their household with all manner of mutilated gourds, decorative corpses, plastic spiders, styrofoam gravestones with cute, ironic captions, and of course, the (pumpkin) spice must flow. These and other ostensibly ghastly traditions can mean only one thing: It’s Halloween Season!
Around these parts, we celebrate that Hallowed E’en by watching a veritable plethora of horror movies (and we read some spooky books while we’re at it) for the six weeks leading up to the big day. Why six weeks? Well, it used to be two weeks better than the standard October marathons that a lot of folks do, but everyone’s been stepping up their game over the last few years, to the point where we’re just conventional at this point.
It’s traditional to start the marathon off with something that’s at least nominally respectable. Which is not to say that it won’t be schlocky fun, just that there will be some element to the theme that might hint towards something a little more classy than typical. Things like silent movies, foreign films (more foreign films), arthouse flicks, classic anthologies, celebrated studios (and other celebrated studios), and the like. This year, with the help of the fine folks over at The Criterion Collection (always a safe option for more respectable horror), we’ve lined up a trio of Tod Browning’s Sideshow Shockers.
Browning is most famous for directing the first sound film adaptation of Dracula (a Universal monster movie classic that we’ve revisited multiple times during these Six Weeks of Halloween marathons), but his notorious followup to that film was Freaks, an infamously transgressive film that we’ll talk a little more about below. Freaks also touches on topics and themes that Browning often tackled: outsiders, con artists, grifters, carnivals, sideshows, gypsies, vagabonds, and the like. All three films we’re watching this week are from that milieu, though only one is a sound film. Browning himself spent time working at a circus (as a clown) before moving on to Vaudeville and eventually Hollywood (he was a protégée of D.W. Griffith), so the man has the experience to back up his interests. Let’s dive in:
Freaks – An infamously transgressive film, surely one of the strangest things ever produced by a major American studio, this film was initially a financial and critical disaster, but developed a cult following and eventual reevaluation decades later.
A beautiful but cruel trapeze artist seeks to marry a sideshow performer, but when it becomes clear that she’s been poisoning him in order to inherit his fortune, the rest of the sideshow “freaks” rise up in righteous vengeance.
Browning famously cast real-life sideshow performers to portray the performers at the circus, which certainly lends an authenticity and verisimilitude to the proceedings. There’s always been criticism of the film’s potential to exploit its cast’s physical disabilities for amusement’s sake, but the story does everything in its power to portray an inclusive community who, shunned by mainstream society, have their own code of acceptance and inclusion. It’s telling that Browning doesn’t really show the performers onstage (i.e. for an audience’s amusement), but instead demonstrates their talents in a more understated and organic manner (i.e. a quadruple amputee lights his own cigarette using only his mouth during a conversation, and so on).
Indeed, for a film made in 1932 (a time when eugenics was nearing its peak in popularity), the film must have been shocking in its portrayal of circus freaks as actual people with real feelings, hopes, and dreams. The whole point of the film is that the more conventional people, like the trapeze artist and strongman who look down on the sideshow performers as subhuman freaks and seek to take advantage of them, are the real monsters here.
Audiences at the time didn’t really see it that way, and were revolted at the film. Early screenings were significantly longer and reportedly more gruesome than the cut that was eventually released and survives today (nearly 30 minutes of footage was cut and is thought to be lost), but the ending remains effective, perhaps even moreso because of what you do not see. To be sure, it’s not a perfect film. The narrative is simplistic and while the cast and setting are quite authentic, the performances are a bit stilted. But these flaws tend to be more endearing than anything else, and it remains an effective bit of social commentary and, remarkably odd, even today, for a major studio release. The Criterion presentation is the best the film has ever looked, and has lots of special features as well. ***1/2
The Unknown – A circus bound love triangle develops between an armless knife thrower (he uses his feet) and a strongman vying for the affections of their female assistant. One of the men is actually an infamous criminal who is hiding out in disguise, and seeks to sabotage the the other’s attempts at love. Ironic twists and machinations culminate in a tragic showdown.
Browning often collaborated with “the man of a thousand faces,” Lon Cheney (most famous for his turn in the silent Phantom of the Opera), and this is the most famous and celebrated of their work together. It’s easy to see why, with Cheney giving a remarkable physical performance. Even accounting for the usage of a body double for some of the footwork (Cheney plays the armless knife thrower who is remarkably dexterous with his feet and toes), it’s quite effective and really sells the character’s shocking decision later in the film. I won’t spoil the bitterly ironic, O. Henry-esque twists at the core of the story, even if you might see where it’s headed (though I must admit, I wasn’t really expecting the film to get quite so strange and lurid). Cheney doesn’t do crazy makeup or anything here, but he sells all the turmoil his character is going through with his exaggerated facial expressions, grimaces, scowls, and whatnot, sometimes managing to evoke resignation, heartbreak, and even sympathy for a fundamentally callous character.
Also of note is an early performance from a young Joan Crawford as the love interest and the rest of the supporting cast also does fine work. The plot focuses a bit more heavily on the melodrama than I usually like, and it all feels like a bit of a dry (silent) run for Freaks, but it’s worthwhile on its own as well. If you’re interested in film history, it’s neat to see how Browning evolved these settings and themes across the three movies in this set.
Visually, I’ve never found Browning to be quite as dynamic as the expressionistic films of the era, even though there is a clear influence at work here. Take the scene where Cheney confronts a doctor in a cathedral-like surgical suite, which is certainly a striking visual, even if it’s not as extreme as something like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (a clear influence on most horror films of the 1920s). That being said, I’ve always found Browning to have a keen eye for framing and blocking that is too often dismissed in favor of more showy techniques.
The Criterion presentation is sourced from the only two remaining nitrate prints of the film, so it actually looks the worst of the three films in this set, even if it’s probably as good as possible (to be clear, any issues here are with the poorly preserved film and not with Criterion and their digital partners) and better than most public domain silent films that you’re likely to find for free on the streaming services (and hey, I’ll certainly take that over AI upscaled slop or, like, you know, nothing – Browning’s London After Midnight was made in the same year as The Unknown, but is one of the most famous lost films of all time and I’d totally take a crappy transfer over nothing). Criterion also sourced a new piano-heavy score which pretty much conforms to what you’d expect from a silent film, but is well done, and an audio commentary that’s solid and informative. Overall, I don’t see how this could look or sound any better unless someone finds a well preserved and pristine print somewhere (which has happened!) ***
The Mystic – After decades of only being available on VHS, this is the least seen and rarest of the three movies in this set. Sourced from a 35 mm safety print (the intricacies of old timey film stock are perhaps worthy of their own post and, uh, some learning on my part, as I’m certainly no expert on this sort of thing except to say that this transfer looks pretty good for a film made in 1925) with a new score by Dean Hurley (best known for his frequent collaborations with David Lynch), it looks and sounds pretty great.
Small time Hungarian gypsy hustlers with an effective psychic act are approached by an American grifter who lures them to New York to swindle rich high-society types. Another love triangle develops here, as well as some grinchlike transformations, but the real stars of the show are the elaborate séance set-pieces. Browning takes you behind the con to see just how these things work, but the actual presentation is quite effective, even when you know how it’s being pulled off.
Browning was not able to get Lon Chaney for this film, and perhaps the cast of mostly unknowns is part of why the film has languished in obscurity for so long. That being said, Eileen Pringle does great work as the titular Mystic, aided by some rather spectacular costumes by famed art deco designer Romain de Tirtoff (also known as Erté). Browning and cinematographer Ira H. Morgan light her in a way that literally makes her glow on screen at times, and her performance can stand up to the scrutiny.
As mentioned above, this is a silent film with a new score by Dean Hurley, who does include sound effects in the mix (i.e. knocking on a door, the sweeping sound of a broom, cheers or laughs of a crowd, horse hooves, and so on). I’m not a silent film expert, but this is an approach I have not seen often, and it made for interesting watching (even if it was sometimes odd to hear the sound effects but not dialogue). Clocking in at a svelte 74 minutes, it’s actually the longest of the three movies here, even if it is shorter than most House of the Dragon episodes.
Once again, it does feel like we’re looking at the larval stages of what would eventually become The Unknown and then Freaks, but that’s what makes this set interesting. ***
A successful start for the 2024 Six Weeks of Halloween marathon, stay tuned for more: we’ve got some Dracula movies, a trio of Dario Argento flicks, some Larry Fessenden, a few Neo-Slashers, Flyquels, and much, much moar!
1) Movie that best reflects, describes or embodies the tenor of our times
For perhaps obvious reasons, my brain immediately jumped to the paranoid 70s thriller for this (and perhaps its forbearers in the 1960s). There are many options among that coterie, but in looking through them, my response mutated a bit and turned into Taxi Driver. I actually have not seen it in a while, but if my records are correct, the 4K should be arriving on my doorstep in just a couple of days (long live physical media!)
In any case, the character of Travis Bickle seems as relevant as ever. Lonely, overwhelmed by modernity, confused, but desperately wanting to do something important with his life, make a difference, even if it’s just to save one young woman. He cycles through apathy, abortive romance, political engagement, and finally tragic heroism (at least, in his head).
2) Favorite Don Siegel movie not starring Clint Eastwood
A tough question because, as much as I love the movie theater experience, I never really had a go-to theater that wasn’t part of a massive chain like AMC or Regal. At any given time, my favorite theaters were probably the newest theater in my area because they were generally cleaner and nicer than what was around before. Innovations like stadium seating and eventually recliners also helped. In the early/mid 90s it was probably AMC Marple, Granite Run, or Painters Crossing. This is where my more formative movie experiences happened and I have fond nostalgic memories of those theaters, even if they didn’t have the aforementioned innovations. More recently, the better theaters around me tend to be Regal Cinemas (and I have a Regal Unlimited subscription, which is nice) and there is the King of Prussia IMAX theater (one of the few full-size IMAX theaters in the country), but I would be incredibly grateful if an Alamo Drafthouse would open up here. Simple things like proper projection, masking, and the focus on proper crowd etiquette (i.e. no disruptive behavior like cell phone usage, etc…) are great, not to mention that the food and beer selections are actually good (unlike the local dine-in options, which are much worse). Alas, I’ve only been to those Alamo theaters in Austin a few times, and now that they got bought out, who knows how much of this will hold up over time…
4) You’re booking this Friday and Saturday night at that theater—What are the double features for each night?
This is an impossible choice, but at least two nights allows for two different strategies. Strategy the first: favorite movies I’ve never seen on the big screen: The Godfather and The Terminator. Strategy the second: two thematically similar movies. This one is even more impossible, but here’s what I’m going with: Fail Safe and Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. I’ve actually never seen Fail Safe before, but I’ve been on a Lumet kick of late, and I figure at least one of the four movies should be something I’ve never seen before…
5) Wendy Hiller or Deborah Kerr?
I don’t have strong feelings for either, but for now it would be Wendy Hiller, as I’ve seen significantly more movies with her in it. That being said, when I go through my inevitable Powell/Pressburger phase, Kerr might take the cake.
6) Last movie seen in a theater/on physical media/by streaming
In a theater: Bad Boys: Ride or Die (not a huge fan of the series, but always appreciate the chemistry between Smith/Lawrence and there’s some solid action beats). On streaming: The Anderson Tapes (speaking of Lumet, and this is one of his Sean Connery collaborations, a snappy caper that prefigures those paranoid 70s thrillers I mentioned earlier). On physical media: The Crow 4K (looks better than ever, and the movie mostly holds up.)
7) Name a young actor in modern films who, either physically or by personality, reminds you of an actor from the age of classic movies
Not sure if this qualifies as “the age of classic movies” but Andrew Garfield could do a pretty good Anthony Perkins impersonation, no?
And so we come to the first embarrassing mulligan of the quiz, as I’ve only seen one Louis Malle film.
10) The Ladykillers (2004 Coen Bros. version)—yes or no?
I never know how to interpret the “yes or no” questions on these quizzes so I usually end up answering yes, but the Coen version of The Ladykillers is one of the more confounding movies I’ve seen. On paper, it should be near perfect, but in practice it’s just flat and dull. I love the Coens, I love Tom Hanks, and indeed, the whole cast is great. I don’t understand how this went off the rails so badly, but then, I’ve also never seen the original, so it’s hard to pinpoint anything. Anyway, it’s one of my least favorite Coen brothers movies, but I don’t, like, object to its existence or anything. So I’m answering “yes” anyway, because I don’t think I’ll ever answer “no” to one of these questions.
11) Andy Robinson (Scorpio) or Richard Widmark (Tommy Udo)?
Andy Robinson’s Scorpio takes this one for me, as he’s much more of a formative psycho in my movie watching career than Widmark’s Udo (in a movie I only caught up with recently – can totally recognize the Joker smile/laugh influence and importance there, but Scorpio will always creep me the hell out).
13) Upcoming movie release you have the highest hopes for in 2024
Nosferatu was the first thing that jumped out at me. There are several other things coming that I really want to be good, but am skeptical, notably Coppola’s Megalopolis and Kevin Costner’s Horizon movies. I’m always skeptical of sequels/reboots, but I’m curious about Gladiator 2 and a few other things. But Nosferatu seems like the thing I’m most excited for in 2024…
14) Movie you’re looking forward to this year that would surprise people or make them consider that you might have finally cracked up.
I’m having a difficult time with this one, and the only thing I can come up with is Venom: The Last Dance. It’s a sequel, which I usually don’t look forward to, and it’s not like I loved the first two movies… but I do kinda enjoy seeing Tom Hardy bicker with Venom. There’s some weird alchemy going on there that makes these movies worthwhile, even when they’re bad.
15) Favorite AIP one-sheet
I’m no expert, but I took a quick spin through the AIP catalog and picked out some posters that stood out:
I actually haven’t seen any of these movies, but maybe I should do a “judge movies by their cover” thing and seek them out.
16) Catherine Spaak or Daniela Giordano?
I’ve actually seen Daniela Giordano in several things (including the best titled Giallo ever, Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key), but I must admit that I did not immediately recognize the name (she’s perhaps overshadowed by Edwige Fenech in two of them). Still, I have not seen Catherine Spaak in anything, though I am tentatively planning for a Dario Argento week in this year’s upcoming Six Weeks of Halloween marathon, which will include The Cat o’ Nine Tails…
Now we come to my second mulligan, as I’ve only seen one Wim Wenders film (Wings of Desire).
19) Best performance by an athlete in a non-sports-oriented movie
With apologies to Jim Brown, Fred Williamson, Terry Crews, Vinnie Jones, and the like, the clear answer is Kurt Thomas in Gymkata. Duh.
20) The cinema’s Best Appearance by A Piece of Fruit
The first thing that comes to mind is Denethor just wrecking those cherry tomatoes in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Part of the reason I like this answer is that I also want to argue about tomatoes being fruit. Some people and even the US government like to say they’re vegetables, but they’re clearly fruit! (Yes there’s a whole backstory involving government bureaucracy and taxes and whatnot, but it still doesn’t make tomatoes not fruit.)
22) Most would probably agree we are not currently living in a golden age of film criticism. Given that, who, among currently active writers, do you think best carries the torch for the form?
It’s funny, I don’t find myself checking traditional reviews nearly as often as I used to… I tend to listen to podcasts and check Letterboxd. Of course, a large proportion of folks I follow on Letterboxd are critics themselves, so I guess I’m still getting a fair amount of traditional criticism exposure. The critic who I first thought of was Matt Singer, the editor and critic for ScreenCrush. He always has good reviews that walk the line between being fun and snooty, and some good editorials as well. I also enjoy Sonny Bunch of The Bulwark, who I tend to read because he comes from a different perspective than most other critics (as you can probably tell by the publication he works for). Bunch also has a couple of great podcasts, including Across the Movie Aisle and The Bulwark Goes to Hollywood. I don’t think anyone will get as ubiquitous as Roger Ebert was ever again, but who knows?
23) Favorite movie theater snack(s)
Who am I kidding, it’s popcorn. I also really enjoy some form of soft pretzels, but they’re not always great (and it’s not like they’re scratch made pretzels or anything – they’re just Superpretzel-brand-quality frozen pretzels.) Again, if there were an Alamo Drafthouse near me, maybe I would have something else (ohhh, does beer count as a snack?) Back in the day, there was this weird kids combo box sorta thing at AMC that had a very small amount of popcorn, a small soda, and an Airhead that I used to get a lot. But ultimately, popcorn is the classic movie snack (even at home).
24) Marion Lorne or Patricia Collinge?
I love both of the Hitchcock movies that prompted this question, but I’ll give it to Marion Lorne for her doty but creepy turn in Strangers on a Train.
25) Recent release you wish you’d seen on a big screen
The most obvious choice would have to be the Richard Linklater directed Glen Powell vehicle Hit Man, which apparently did have a short run in a tiny independent theater near me, but I didn’t realize this until it was too late (thanks for nothing, Netflix). A less obvious choice would be The Promised Land, a sorta Danish western starring Mads Mikkelsen that had a limited release earlier this year.
26) Favorite supporting performance in a Sam Peckinpah film
I’m going to go with the most obscure option I can think of: Craig T. Nelson’s mustache (not the actor, just his mustache) in The Osterman Weekend. I mean, damn, look at that thing:
27) Strother Martin or L.Q. Jones?
This sounded familiar and lo, it was part of Professor Peabody’s quiz from 15 years ago. My answer remains the same: L.Q. Jones, not so much for his role in The Wild Bunch, but because of Lone Wolf McQuade – a movie I have an inexplicable affection for, at least partly because L.Q. Jones steals every scene he’s in…
28) Current actor whose star status you find partially or completely mystifying
I like some of Miles Teller’s movies and I guess he’s a decent enough actor, but I mostly just don’t get it.
29) Reese Witherspoon – Election or Freeway?
I suppose Election is the better film, technically speaking, but I just love the batshit insanity of Freeway, so it gets my vote.
30) Second-favorite Michael Ritchie film
This is probably The Bad News Bears or Wildcats (but I haven’t seen either of those in, like. 30 years or so, I imagine I’d have a different perspective on them these days).
31) Favorite theatrical moviegoing experience of the last three years (2021-2024)
Post-pandemic pickins are slim, but seeing Dune in a jam-packed IMAX theater in King of Prussia (one of the few full-sized IMAX theaters in the country) on the last night before it switched to a different movie (don’t even remember which one) was quite memorable. Plus, it’s one of those movies that really benefits from the the whole IMAX treatment.
32) Favorite Southern-fried movie sheriff
This is not exactly a topic I’m an expert in, but I’ll go with Ned Beatty playing the evil sheriff J.C. Connors in White Lightning.
33) Favorite film of 1954
According to my records, I’ve only seen 11 films from 1954, so this should, in theory, be an easy choice. The problem is that, like, 7 of them are stone cold classics. Rear Window is probably the answer. Godzilla is certainly worth considering though (it’s easy to forget how good this is given the excess and downright silliness of much of what followed).
34) A 90-foot wall of water or the world tallest building on fire?
I’m not a huge fan of disaster flicks, but it’s hard to argue that The Towering Inferno isn’t the crest of the wave (even though it’s fifty years old and they’re still making disaster movies these days)…
35) Second-favorite Agnes Varda movie
Faces Places by default, but damn, I didn’t realize just how many directing credits Varda actually has – I should probably watch more of them.
36) Favorite WWII movie made between 1950 and 1975
Pretty hard to top Patton for this one, though I did finally catch up with The Bridge on the River Kwai, which was pretty great… but still not as good at Patton.
37) After the disappointing (against predictions) box-office weekend for The Fall Guy, writer Matt Singer, perplexed by the relative indifference from ticket-buyers toward a film most expected to be a big hit, asked in his piece for Screengrab, “What the hell do people want from movies?” To focus the question slightly more narrowly, what the hell do you want out of movies?
I’m a novelty junkie, so as a general statement, I want more originality and less in the way of sequels and reboots. Mid-tier budget movies that can take some chances or display some sort of distinction. I watched Midnight Run recently and found myself lamenting the loss of this sort of mid-tier movie (that is nonetheless a low-key classic). Hard to argue with people who are gunshy due to pricing and theatrical experience these days though.
38) Ned Sparks or Guy Kibbee?
Guy Kibbee! I don’t know why I used an exclamation point there, I don’t entirely know who he is… but I’ve seen movies he’s in, so that’s a step up on Ned Sparks. Take that Ned Sparks!
39) Favorite opening line in a movie
I’ve already used up my quota of Godfather answers today, so let’s just go with the other classic mafia flick, Goodfellas: “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.”
40) Best movie involving radio or a radio broadcast
My first thought was Vanishing Point, where a blind black DJ named “Super Soul” encourages the car chase that comprises the bulk of the movie. But then I thought of the DJ from The Warriors, which is a better movie and a more memorable DJ too.
41) Buddy Buddy—yes or no?
I mean, yes. I always answer yes, but despite this film’s middling reputation, who says no to a movie directed by Billy Wilder and starring Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau?
42) Favorite film of 1934
So here the options are pretty limited by what I’ve actually seen, and The Thin Man is clearly the best of those.
43) Kay Francis or Miriam Hopkins?
This is, what, the third embarrassing mulligan I need to take today?
44) What’s the oddest thing a movie theater employee has ever said to you?
Nothing is coming to mind, but here’s a weird situation worth noting. I went to see The Good Son in the theater with my brother and some of our friends. After getting our seats, I head out to grab some popcorn and soda, but the theater employee wouldn’t let me back in because I was only 15 and the movie was rated R (my brother was 19, which I guess is how I got in the first time). I had to watch Cool Runnings instead. To this day, I still haven’t seen The Good Son, maybe out of spite, but also no one seemed to like it that much.
45) Is there such a thing as an ideal running time for a movie?
It’s certainly possible that a movie can be too long (or even too short), but there’s no strict rule for the length of a movie (though I think going longer than, say, 5 hours, is probably a bad idea). That being said, 90-120 minutes seems to be the sweet spot. If you go longer than that, you probably need to justify the length somehow (and I tend to be pretty easy to please in that respect, though I have been getting less patient as I grow older, so maybe it’s harder than I’m making out).
46) Favorite Roger Corman movie(s)
A Bucket of Blood is probably my favorite (speaking of sub-90 minute movies, this one is perfect at 66 minutes), assuming we limit to Corman-directed movies. I do like his Poe cycle though, and I never did get to The Masque of the Red Death (which seems to be Corman’s best reviewed movie).
I forgot how much fun these Movie Quizzes are, already looking forward to the next one (hopefully in less than 4 years)…
An ex-army dog inherits a fortune from his eccentric millionaire owner, and which is poisoned, asks the leader in the heaven for animals to send him back to Earth, as a human private investigator, to solve his own murder.
And if that’s not enough for you, the humanimal PI also apparently falls in love with his former caretaker, the eccentric millionaire’s secretary. To allay any, er, qualms you may have with this, they reveal that her father was a reincarnated Scottish Terrier, so she’s part humanimal as well (humanimals, humanimals everywhere!)
I first learned of this when it showed up on the Criterion Channel and someone recommended it before it fell off the service. I didn’t see it in time, and it’s not available anywhere else, so I filed it away as a potential WMotW, pending actually watching it (I don’t always watch the WMotW, but it’s nice when I can and this seemed like the sort of thing I should watch). However, I did manage to track down a copy on the Internet Archive (It appears to be a VHS rip of a double feature from TNT – You Never Can Tell doesn’t start until minute 34 or so.)
Look, I’m not going to claim it’s classic cinema, but it’s a kooky premise and there’s some goofy jokes (the detective side-eying fire hydrants, his partner, a former Kentucky Racehorse, being able to run really fast, that sort of thing…) and it’s a brisk 78 minutes. Plus, doggies! It’s probably Dean Koontz’s favorite movie.
I’ve been following along with the Blank Check podcast’s John McTiernan series and in the Thomas Crown Affair remake episode, they ask an interesting question: Does Crown actually get away with it? Spoilers ahoy! If you haven’t seen it, it’s great, and I think one of the rare instances where the remake is better than the original.
In the movie, bored finance CEO Thomas Crown (played by Pierce Brosnan) steals a Monet painting worth millions (in a nifty, well-crafted heist sequence). Crown then offers the museum a replacement painting to display in place of the Monet. Insurance investigator Catherine Banning (played by Rene Russo) arrives and quickly realizes that Crown was behind the heist, but can’t prove it. After a false start involving a counterfeit Monet and Dogs Playing Poker, she begins to fall for Crown, but they obviously can’t be together unless he returns the painting. Yadda yadda yadda, it turns out that the replacement painting is actually the Monet with some disguising watercolors painted on top, and is revealed in another nifty heist sequence.
So the question is: Even though the Monet was returned under Crown’s replacement painting, doesn’t that still implicate him? Won’t the police still be justified in arresting him? They discuss this on the podcast, and basically come down on the “Don’t overthink it, it’s just a movie” side of things, which is probably right, but I had a thought (an overthink, if you will) that I figured I’d share.
I have to make some (reasonable!) assumptions to make this work. First, I’m assuming there are records indicating that Crown purchased the replacement painting (preferably after the initial Monet heist – perhaps he purchases it because of the heist.) This kinda has to be the case in order for Crown to get away with his plan, because if he has no record of purchase, then the police will know he had the Monet and orchestrated the counterfeiting once everything is revealed in the end.
Second, he has his counterfeiter/surrogate daughter paint the replacement painting on top of the Monet in watercolors. That way he’s “returned” the painting without anyone knowing.
Third, he actually purchased the replacement painting (this sorta follows from the first assumption above). But what has happened to the actual replacement painting that Crown presumably made a show of purchasing in order to replace the Monet for the museum? In the film, Crown and Banning take a trip to Martinique, and Crown keeps asking her if he can show her a painting in an unmarked crate (the implication being that it’s the Monet and that he’s taunting her). At a certain point, she grabs the crate and throws it on the fire.
So here’s my theory: The “real” replacement painting was what was in the crate that got burned. That way, Crown can pretend that the replacement was a counterfeit painted on top of the Monet (i.e. that he was duped, not the, er… duper?), with no legal implications to him. Alright, minimal legal implications.
Ok, it’s still quite a stretch, this is just a movie and I’m overthinking it and really, so are you, because who cares, Crown definitely pulled off the more important Heist: he stole Rene Russo’s heart.
