The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #28 - Carnival of Souls

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House  Number 34 - Poltergeist  Number 33 - The Abominable Dr. Phibes  Number 32 - The Phantom of the Opera  Number 31 - The House of the Devil   Number 30 - Evil Dead II  Number 29 - Dead of Night

Carnival of Souls

(1962, Dir. by Herk Harvey.)

 Why It's Here:

The low-budget spook show at its surreal finest, Herk Harvey's film has inspired plenty of horror films throughout the years.  Boasting some haunting visuals and a manic performance by Candice Hilligoss some 50 years later, Carnival of Souls is still a fascinating case study that should be a guide to any aspiring horror filmmaker out there.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

When Hillgoss' Mary starts wandering around the abandoned carnival location on the edge of her new town, you know things are about to get funky.  The carnival scene holds plenty of creepy sites, and the folks who arise to terrify her do a lot to make the film great.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

I'm cheating a little bit here, because I first saw this film on a double feature DVD with Carnival of Souls.  But I still think that 1960's Hotel Hell (aka, The City of the Dead) shares an eerie tone with the film, and the doomed female lead is just as helpless as Mary is in Carnival of Souls. When it comes to low-budget black and white horror, these two films stand out as classics.

What It Means To Me:
Endlessly watchable and surprisingly profound, Carnival of Souls is a perfect example of how a little bit of ambition can make up for a laundry list of limitations. Like a lot of younger film folks, I saw this after other similarly constructed films (*cough*THESIXTHSENSE*cough*) - which dampened the surprise of the plot - yet it's the film I'm still thinking about many years later.  Can't argue with that.

Midnight Movie of the Week #128 - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

It's likely that every generation looks back on their childhood and thinks the things they once loved are still awesome. If they don't, they probably should.  Heck, we're at our best when we're kids. We have no idea that there's responsibility in our futures, and all we really care about is getting home from school so we can watch cartoons and play with our toys. It's humanity at its most perfect. 

Back on point - while most generations believe they had it great "back in the day", I'm relatively convinced that those of us who learned about life from the late '80s and early '90s got a pretty fantastic hand dealt to us. And a lot of credit for that - alongside powerhouses like the Transformers and G.I. Joe - goes to four fantastic turtles that provided countless entertainment to us all.  They are, of course, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - and when they came to the big screen it was pretty much the greatest thing a nine year old could ever ask for.  And we showed up in numbers to see it too, making it the highest grossing independent film ever at the time of release (passing the record set twelve years earlier by Halloween).

22 years later, a lot of things have changed.  The toys are naturally gone - although I think there might be a Leonardo somewhere in my closet - and the animated series is just a distant memory.  I do still have some memories of the first two video games for the NES - as should I, Turtles II was an arcade blasty - and I do still crave pizza pretty much all the time.  But one thing that hasn't changed is that that 1990 live-action film still makes me smile like a madman.

With music video director Steve Barron behind the camera and plenty of product placement - not to mention the underlying fact that the movie is designed to primarily sell toys - the fact that this movie was designed to manipulate us kids can't be hidden.  But we didn't care then, and today I still don't. The film still works as a stand alone story, only briefly covering how these turtles became mutant ninja teenagers, and still packs a ton of entertainment value for folks of all ages.

The simplest key to the film's lasting charm is the fact that the characters are still so fun to watch.  The foursome of Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Raphael are brought to life in glorious rubber suits - polished with Turtle Wax, of course - and a talented voice cast - including Brian "Takashi from Revenge of the Nerds" Tochi as Leo and the undeniably awesome Corey Feldman as Donatello - which should endear them to most viewers.  Also becoming human are intrepid reporter and Turtle ally April O'Neil (played by Judith Hoag, who was very "1990 hot" to a nine year old) and the sporting-goods-as-weapons loving Casey Jones.

Jones, as played by future veteran character actor Elias Koteas, is probably the film's shining star to me, and his first appearance in his hockey mask still has me longing for more of the character.  (Considering their choice of facial wear, isn't Casey vs. Jason something that could happen? I'd watch that.)  Koteas gives Casey a bit of a late '80s edge - there are some times when his lack of tact and his vocal tones remind of Keanu Reeves' work from this time frame - which adds perfectly to the film's place in pop culture history.  The turtles needed a human adversary in their live action world, and Casey Jones fits that purpose.

It's probably one of the most PG films I'll ever cover here at the site, and its sci-fi and horror elements (including a reference to the Critters films, which Raphael dismisses as junk) are minimal.  But there's too much fun to be had with a group of ninja turtles that fight a gang of ninjas that are corrupting America's youth, and the folks behind this vision of the comic heroes/cartoon stars capitalized on all of it.  I'm still sold on these righteous turtles, and won't shy away from lauding this film as a great piece of escapist adventure.

John Carter

(2012, Dir. by Andrew Stanton.)

Being destined to be known as one of the biggest flops of all time is a destiny that no movie wants.  And yet, here sits John Carter, a completely mismarketed sci-fi adventure that cost more than the New York Yankees and made less than a relief pitcher for the Colorado Rockies. 

Despite the love of first-time live-action director Andrew Stanton and the thought-to-be blooming star power of Friday Night Lights' Tim Riggins Taylor Kitsch, this is a blockbuster that was dead on arrival both financially and critically.  There's a fascinating read on all the things that went wrong with the production here - which was published exactly THREE days after the film was released. (Let's not take some time to make our conclusions, boys!) With mediocre reviews and the production abandoned by its backers (heck, they even changed the title from the proposed John Carter of Mars because people don't see Mars movies, it's easy to see why so many people with casual interest in the film let it pass theatrically.

Here's the thing, and I'm not going to sugar coat it - John Carter's actually a good movie.

I did not mistype that sentence and I will not back away from it.  I realize that this is just my assessment of the film, but when I finally did settle in to watch what unfolds I was completely dumbfounded by the bad reputation that had preceded it.  It is not a film without problems - I only said "good", I didn't throw any of my usual superlatives about it - but it is the kind of stand alone adventure film that seems sorely lacking in Hollywood these days.

Adapted (loosely) from the more than 100 year old series of novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs, the film tells how the title character got to the planet that was cut from the title, and then immediately involves him in what is basically a world war.  There's a lot of over-plotting going on - if you don't know the books you'll be expected to quickly learn the names of a bunch of races, Martian places, and even slang terms - and I'm sure that many of the film's detractors will point to this as either a) confusing or b) silly.  I suppose I can understand that to an extent, but if the fact that something creates its own universe is going to take you out of the story, that's your problem.

The worlds and characters will certainly make some think of Star Wars - and more accurately, those awful prequels that shrouded the turn of the century with fear and may have caused the Y2K panic (OK, I made up the Y2K thing, but they were terrible) - which is largely because Burroughs' books were a key inspiration to that George Lucas fellow.  But John Carter stands on its own, and stands apart from the Star Wars 'verse by sticking to one world and only a few characters.  This isn't high drama - it seems funny to consider Star Wars "high drama", but one could make the argument that Star Wars, with its focus on family tensions and spiritual growth, aspires to reach that - and watching John Carter reminded me more of adventure films of the early Hollywood era. The tone of John Carter is more in tune with things like Captain Blood or Gunga Din - adaptations of other authors from Burroughs' time - than modern sci-fi epics, with its closest modern companion perhaps being Stephen Sommers' adaptation of The Mummy.  Again, some may see that as a bad thing - but I think it's a wicked fun flick.

The films I mentioned near the end of the last paragraph inspire a childlike awe in me, and John Carter fits in with them perfectly. Some of the effects are a little hokey - and obviously meant for children's consumption - and I won't deny that I didn't spend a bit of time imagining a John Carter adaptation with Ray Harryhausen's special effects and Caroline Munro wearing the same revealing outfits that "Princess of Mars" Dejah Thoris is required to don.  Gosh, it sure seems like all John Carter does is remind me of things I love about popcorn movies of years gone by, doesn't it?  Wait...that's another good thing.

It's easy to find the reasons why it was a financial "failure" when you consider the budget and the mindset of modern viewers - it's too long, too complicated, too different, too childish for most.  But now - just 3 months after its release - a steady bit of support is growing for the film.  Just today (I'd already started plotting this piece, in case someone thinks I was influenced) I was asked to help support an internet petition to get a sequel made.  How strange is that? A film is produced for nearly 200 million by Disney and marketed as a big deal...and three months later the studio is basically done with it while folks on the internet are begging for a sequel.  We sure do live in a crazy world of cinema these days.  (Sorry guys, I really don't think that sequel's coming any time soon.)

Back to the point, I'm all for John Carter. (I even watched it twice, just to make sure I didn't miss something awful the first time.) It's a vast adventure that has some eye-popping visuals and creates an ambitiously drawn sci-fi world.  The Disney logo has it primed for children, but there's a bit more violence and death than I expected from the film, and a much smarter edge than I expected. The cast isn't great, but they do their job, and nothing about it sticks out like a sore thumb.

I'm not sure if there was a way for John Carter to work as a serious, mass-audience pleasing, blockbuster in 2012 - as one article about the film's floppiness stated, Burroughs' ideas have been pillaged for over 100 years! - but I'm really glad someone made it.  Don't be surprised if words like "cult" start following this one around in the future, because there's a lot of fun to be had with John Carter.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #29 - Dead of Night

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House  Number 34 - Poltergeist  Number 33 - The Abominable Dr. Phibes  Number 32 - The Phantom of the Opera  Number 31 - The House of the Devil  Number 30 - Evil Dead II

Dead of Night

(1945, Dir. by Alberto Cavalcanti, Charles Crichton, Basil Dearden, Robert Hamer.)

Why It's Here:

Revolutionizing the horror anthology long before even The Twilight Zone, Ealing Studios' production of Dead of Night might as well be something that is told around a campfire. In a way, it is - thanks to a perfectly drawn wrap-around tale that bridges the gaps between three tales of terror (and one goofy ghost story that provides a late film bit of comic relief).  The film's reliance on the age old desire to tell "scary" stories keeps it from feeling out of date - the same principle that helps things like The Twilight Zone and those awesome Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark books we loved as kids - even if it is more than 65 years old.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

I adore Dead of Night as a whole, and have for a long time. But, if we're being completely honest I don't know if the film would have gotten that far if it weren't for the wonderful Ventriloquist's Dummy segment near the end of the film. Again, this is an age-old horror standard - dolls = scariness - but thanks to some wonderful direction and a great Michael Redgrave performance, it meets our fearful expectations and then some.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

It's impossible to find something of its era that's quite like it and quite good, so let's just jump all the way forward to the 2007 horror anthology Trick 'r Treat. Creepshow is most likely a better anthology horror flick, but Trick 'r Treat's central theme of old legends and spook stories coming together is more in tune with Dead of Night's personality.

What It Means To Me:

When i start comparing something to The Twilight Zone and the Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark books, that's a big deal. Dead of Night gets a special place in my heart because it's completely interested in tapping into fears of the unknown, something that surprisingly few horror tales do anymore. It's not a monster film, it doesn't need blood and gore to make a point - it just wants to make our skin crawl a bit. It meets that goal whenever I watch it.

Book Review - The Slasher Movie Book

When you give your book a title like The Slasher Movie Book, you're inviting an army of rabid horror nerds to attack it, rip it apart, and pick at the scraps until they complain about the fatty bits.  Even though I'm merely a passing fan - heck, almost a guilty fan, considering how often I'm all like "Oh man, I don't like slashers; slashers are dumb; slashers are inferior; blah blah blah I'm trying to be intellectual blah" - of the subgenre, I took on the opportunity to review The Slasher Movie Book with a bit of trepidation.  I know enough about horror to know when someone's missing important details, and I didn't want to be that guy who calls out an author over missed points.

So, it is much relief that I can admit that I know much less about the slasher film than J.A. Kerswell, the writer who complied this entirely thorough look at the movement in horror.  Kerswell makes the case that the slasher had its "Golden Age" from 1978-1984, and I must also admit that my mind first thought this to be a surprisingly brief time period.  After all, A Nightmare on Elm Street happened in 1984 and spawned many sequels and knockoffs, and we know that the Friday the 13th and Halloween franchises ran through the end of that decade.  But Kerswell is very thorough in breaking down all aspects of the slasher's lifespan, and the case he makes for the time period listed is entirely reasonable once you get into his analysis.

However, a book on the slasher would not be complete if it only covered a six year span, and Kerswell knows this all too well.  I expected nothing less from the author - who founded and runs the fantastic site Hysteria Lives! - but I equally underestimated the time range that the book would cover. A lot of folks like to trace the slasher back to Psycho - a fair assessment, and I assure you that Hitchcock's film is featured in this book - but Kerswell goes much farther than that. In fact, the book ends up covering a span of time that dates back to (at least) 1897(!) and covers the progress of the slasher straight through recent remakes like Sorority Row, My Bloody Valentine, and of course Friday the 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street.

While chronicling the timeline that runs prior to, within, and beyond the slasher's Golden Age, the author leaves no stone unturned. I was floored to find a chapter on the German "krimi" movement, a precursor to Italy's giallo, that I had frankly never even heard of in my travels through film history. Kerswell also opened my eyes to plenty of other films that predated the tradition slasher, ranging from the obscure - he got me to hunt down 1962's Violent Midnight, produced by fellow Iowan and favorite of mine Del Tenney - to the obvious, like Michael Crichton's Westworld (a movie I've seen a dozen times but never considered as an inspiration to Halloween until just now).  There's also some well deserved recognition for Britain's Pete Walker, and of course an indepth discussion of the giallo the covers Bava, Argento, and the rest of the gang.

But really, the meat-and-potatoes of the book is when Kerswell starts to roll through that Golden Age, breaking down the slasher year-by year and covering the production, reception, and fiscal gains of what seems like hundreds of films.  It was incredibly difficult for me to get through this section - well, to get through most of the book, really - without having to take breaks to look up some of these films on IMDB or Amazon. (Don't worry mom, I didn't break the bank.)  The presentation bounces through the trends in the subgenre and details which films were influential upon which films, creating this big spider-web of knowledge that shows how much these films relied upon the same ideals.

Kerswell's writing throughout the book is informative, if not repetitive (as someone who writes about horror, I definitely understand that there aren't a billion ways to describe some hack-and-slash), and he throws in plenty of interesting tidbits about the cast members and filmmakers behind the horror.  My mind was particularly blown when he discussed the fact that 1984's Fatal Games was made (in part) by the sons of legendary directors Luis Bunuel and Joseph L. Mankiewicz, and his description of some of the sillier slasher films was equally entertaining. Few film descriptions have raised my eyebrows more quickly than when Kerswell revealed that the plot 1982's Blood Beat "seemed to have a seven-foot-tall samurai conjured up by female masturbation", yet Kerswell pulls that one off masterfully.  (No, I did not buy that movie - but it wasn't for lack of trying.)

Packed full of poster/VHS images for all kinds of horror films, The Slasher Movie Book is as good looking to a horror fan as it is informative. I had minor quibbles with some of the choices of page color - black text on a dark red or purple background is a little difficult to read in the darkness of my lair, but I bet overhead lighting would have helped with that - but the presentation is generally fantastic and this could easily shine as a coffee table item for a horror lover's home theater.

Combining all factors together, there's no reason a horror fan shouldn't check out The Slasher Movie Book. There's a lot to be learned from Kerswell's dissection of his topic, and the addition of an index, glossary, review section, and more to the end of the book should make it a nice reference for the horror scholar.  The book is now available through Hysteria Lives or directly at Amazon, and anyone who wants to enrich their understanding of horror's stabby subgenre should jump on the book immediately.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #30 - Evil Dead II

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House  Number 34 - Poltergeist  Number 33 - The Abominable Dr. Phibes  Number 32 - The Phantom of the Opera  Number 31 - The House of the Devil

Evil Dead II

(1987, Dir. by Sam Raimi.)

Why It's Here:

Though it's obviously a sequel - some would argue that it's a remake - Evil Dead II holds a unique place in horror history. Sam Raimi, Robert Tapert and Bruce Campbell followed up their beloved first film with a most excellent blend of horror and comedy that is still a crowd pleaser today. It might not top the splatter that we saw in The Evil Dead (SPOILER ALERT: Few films do.) but the addition of more blatant comic aspects - and the evolution of Campbell's iconic Ash character - have put this on the short-list of the greatest horror sequels out there.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

Ash goes through a lot through the Evil Dead series, but he might be at his low point during the darkly comic scene in which he joins most of the generally-inanimate objects in that cursed cabin in a bit of hysterical laughter.  I think my favorite side character in the scene is the lamp that dances with Ash for a few moments, but that's not the point I'm looking for. The point is that Evil Dead II keeps finding new ways to surprise, and this is one of my favorites.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

One of the most interesting things about the Evil Dead films, at least to me, is that there really wasn't much like them released in the 1980s.  This was the decade of the slasher, the sequel, and the teen horror film - and I'm pretty stumped to find something of its era that matches ED2. If there's anything I've seen that matches the crazy intensity of this film, it might be the recent horror hit and future cult classic The Cabin in the Woods, which not only refers to the Evil Dead 'verse but honors it wonderfully.

What It Means To Me:

It was once just an entertaining diversion, but Evil Dead II has kind of become a case study in horror to me over the years. There's so much in this film series that is without equal anywhere else in horror, and I always seem to find something new and unique about all three films. Evil Dead II has lost a little luster over the years - might be because I've seen it dozens of times and know the gags too well - but it's still a fascinating piece of horror that I can admire any day.

The Prometheus Rant

(2012, Dir. by Ridley Scott.)

Gah.

Seriously, just a disgruntled Gah is all I have right now.

I had such plans for Prometheus, and there were such sights that it was gonna show me.  We were going to be good buddies, hang out sometimes on weekends, and maybe it was even gonna cheer me up when I was blue. Heck, I planned the celebration of my freakin' birthday with my friends around this movie.  And now they all think I'm stupid, because they think the movie freakin' sucked.

And the sad thing is - the movie did kinda freakin' suck. 

On the other hand, the movie was kinda freakin' amazing. You know that feeling when your eyes start to hurt and feel dry while you're playing video games because you're so intently involved that you forget to close them? I had that feeling while watching Prometheus.  It looked so, so, SO freakin' good.  It sounded amazing.  The cast looked good and - with the exception of the terribly annoying Logan Marshall-Green - fit into their stereotypical roles well.  These are the same kind of characters we've seen in the Alien universe before - led by Noomi Rapace's survivor girl, Charlize Theron's icy naysayer, and Idris Elba's incredibly fun turn as the "old-school" captain of the ship - with a few outliers and a few totally unnecessary characters that don't even play into the film. Heck, the crew of the ship totals SEVENTEEN...which is ridiculous. Alien got by on seven characters, and they were all ACTUAL characters. With personalities. And purposes. The folks in Prometheus? They just serve as filler to make the plot go.  I suppose the heavily philosophical robot played by Michael Fassbender is interesting to an extent, but he wears out his welcome as the film goes on too.

The plot is something I'm not even going to talk about, because I really don't understand it. At all.  There is so much random stuff going on in it that it's near impossible to really understand what leads to what and the whole thing gets lost in this mish-mash of science and religious themes and action. For about 90 minutes, the thing works - but then it get so convoluted and keeps making so many weird turns that I couldn't figure out which way was out. More importantly, I couldn't find much of a reason to care.

Alien worked because it was a contained film with a single purpose. Group of people finds monster, monster attacks, battle ensues.   There are like six different monsters in Prometheus, ranging from human to alien and a few things inbetween. And all of the characters and all of the monsters (OK, six is an exaggeration - but not by much) have different agendas and tie in to different parts of the "plot".  Ridley Scott, I know you know how to make a movie - you made Alien, after all - but you have to admit that your stuff was all mixed up on Prometheus, don't you? I mean, am I supposed to accept that your strangely theoretical movie doesn't make sense just because it's from one of the writers of that Lost show that didn't make sense either?

OK. I'm starting to put my calm pants on now. You guys know I'm not usually this way when I write this stuff, it's just that I expected SO much from Prometheus. I adore this franchise, top to bottom, and I was ready to usher in a new chapter that would take my understanding of xenomorphs and the humans and robots who encounter them to the next level.

Which, honestly, is what I got - a gorgeous film that is led by interesting actors and adds to the Alien storyline. The fact that the storyline kinda blows my mind in a bad way and the fact that the actors are basically playing cardboard cutouts hurts the film tremendously, but I know I'll be back to Prometheus later when I'm not expecting the next big thing. For now it definitely has a place on the low end of the new Alien quintilogy spectrum and it kinda makes me feel like Ridley Scott ruined my birthday, but I'll get over some of that.

I won't recommend that you go seek out Prometheus - if I'm struggling to justify coming back to it later, anyone who's not obsessed with all things Alien will certainly struggle with the film even more - and I'm mad as heck at the movie right now. Doesn't mean I can't make up with it later, but right now - I just wanna sit here and be mad at Ridley Scott and whoever the pitiful screenwriters were. This movie should have thrilled me to no end.

Midnight Movie of the Week #127 - Something Wicked This Way Comes

I'm not gonna be that guy who comes on the internet the day after a celebrity dies and says he's their biggest fan. In the case of Ray Bradbury, I'd be insulting all the people out there who actually READ.  But I do intend to pay tribute to a wonderful author - one who changed my view of science fiction when I read Fahrenheit 451, and one whose name I couldn't help finding on plenty of movies and TV shows that shook my genre-lovin' mind.  Outside of Fahrenheit 451, a younger Mike occasionally got Bradbury confused with Richard Matheson - an honest mistake, I assure you - but it was an adaptation of one of his novels, Something Wicked This Way Comes, that cemented why I love the stories of Mr. Bradbury.

My generation may have lost some of the Bradbury's themes in the works of Stephen King - The Dead Zone refers to it directly and Needful Things is almost a remake of the thing - but we should do our best to look more carefully at this 1983 film.  Directed by veteran filmmaker Jack Clayton - who made the jaw-dropping horror thriller The Innocents 22 years earlier - the Disney produced film is exceedingly macabre for the family-friendly studio's tastes.  Bradbury's story, originally published in 1962, didn't require the blood, babes, and beasts that were common in early '80s horror films - though there is a wickedly implied decapitation - but still packs a lot of dark intrigue.

The story revolves around the fictitious Green Town - setting of several of Bradbury's works - and a mysterious carnival - Dark's Pandemonium - that rolls in to town deep into October.  Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway, two young adventurers who seem to stick their noses in all of the town's business,  find the timing very peculiar and begin snooping - which confirms dangers beyond the fears of their imagination.  But it's Will's father - a man who feels much too old to keep up with his young son - that is the character who has the most fear to deal with.

Charles Halloway - played to perfection by Jason Robards, Jr. - is a good man. It's just that he's a man that is afraid of death.  Robards was over 60 at the time of filming, and his performance seems to very naturally represent a man who is struggling to deal with what is left in his life.   Early scenes in the film make it evident that he can sense that something isn't right about this carnival, but the physical strain of having to deal with this and the sinister implications of what he must face slow his desire to face this evil.  He's kind of like me when I realize I need food to survive, but have to pay for and or cook it....it's a real buzzkill to have to put effort in to it, I'd rather just ignore it.

Charles soon comes face to face with the man behind the dark (no pun intended) magic - a sneering and well bearded Jonathan Pryce (Bradbury tried to convince the studio to get Peter O'Toole or Christopher Lee, the studio stood firm on "Hey, let's save money.") - and a battle between good and evil (or perhaps between eternity and frailty) follows.  The film hits its highest point when Pryce's Mr. Dark calls out all of Halloway's fears and threatens to literally rip years from the aging librarian's life, a showdown in the dark halls of the town library that is very tense and even a bit heartbreaking.  The film also gets some good mileage out of a mostly silent Pam Grier as Dark's seductive cohort, though some special effects that haven't aged well halt her effectiveness at times - especially compared to the grandstanding of Pryce and his wonderful hat.

As the adaptation of Bradbury's tale of seasonal madness rolls through its final scenes, there are more than a few hiccups.  I hate that I haven't read the book before now - I've seen the movie a dozen times, there's really no excuse except that I'm lazy - and I know the author wasn't entirely pleased with the movie in its final format. (The author did say in later interviews that it was one of the "better" adaptations of his work.)  But through all the minor problems, the merging of human and supernatural horrors and the all-encompassing ability to produce dread shine through. Those aspects of the film seem to come directly from the author, hearkening back to his willingness to let characters confront inner fears in Fahrenheit 451 or his mastery of the balance between life and death in The Creatures That Time Forgot. 

This movie certainly can't replace the powerful prose of Fahrenheit 451 - which has to be one of my favorite stories out there - and I'm sure there's more to be found in the novel.  But when the topic is Bradbury on film, I'm generally going to lean toward Something Wicked This Way Comes.  I can see the work of a great mind behind it, and that mind inspires me to be look for better horror and sci-fi tales on a daily basis.  The man may be gone, but I'm going to be grateful to have his works for a long time to come.

Piranha 3DD

(2012, Dir. by John Gulager.)

Man, I really don't want to go write about Piranha 3DD.  This is the kind of movie that does not ask the viewer to access any part of their brain that involves intelligence, and I'd like to think that anything I write about the movie will be more thoughtful than the movie itself. Like, that sentence I just wrote.  I over-wrote that sentence.  I could have said, Piranha 3DD is a dumb movie. And that's all I needed to say.

Then again, the movie - which is a sequel to the less-than-two year old horror remake (that featured the all too lovely and amazing and beautiful Elisabeth Shue - HEY ELISABETH SHUE, I LOVE YOU!) - doesn't aim to be anything but dumb.  The plot revolves around an "adult" water park, (run by the always brash David Koechner of Anchorman), the returning chompy-faced-fishes, and (naturally) a bunch of college kids who can bare their breasts (although, truthfully, all the actual characters keep their stuff under wraps throughout the film) and party and eventually become chum.  They are led by two very good looking young actresses with horror under their belts, the Friday the 13th remake's Danielle Panabaker and Tucker & Dale vs. Evil's Katrina Bowden - but neither actress is given anything to do other than be a standard horror victim.  Bowden's performance stands out a little bit, but primarily because of the predictable, yet entertaining, discomfort that her character is forced to endure.

The folks behind Piranha 3DD are director John Gulager - son of cult hero Clu Gulager, who appears briefly here - and screenwriters Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan, the same trio who won some filmmaking reality show and got to make the Feast trilogy, three films that I truly love for their increasing ridiculousness and utter disregard for traditional expectations and/or sanity.  But, like a lot of sequels that are given to promising folks, it's hard to see their stamp on this film.  Don't get me wrong - there's plenty of gore and violence and a few decent shockers - but the whole thing is a bit standard for the guys who made a trilogy with the most ridiculous ending this side of The Matrix.

If there's a positive note about Piranha 3DD - as mean as I'm sounding, I really think there is a positive side to this film - it's the crude and hilarious humor that fills the script.  Things particularly pick up in the final act of the film, when cameos by a bunch of famous folks take over parts of the film.  The humorous additions include three returning characters from the first film - played by Paul Scheer, Ving Rhames, and Christopher Lloyd - who reprise their roles with tongues firmly in cheek.  Lloyd gets to spout sciencey nonsense while dealing with his character's YouTube fame - there's a couple of hilarious lines of dialogue involved there - while Rhames and Scheer deal with the former's injuries from the first film in goofy ways.  An exchange late in the film is punctuated by a comment from Rhames that had me laughing loudly and deeply, and I would have loved to see more from them in the film.

The most entertaining thing about the film, however, is the cameo by television icon and walking punchline David Hasselhoff. (SPOILER ALERT: Germans love David Hasselhoff.)  The Hoff plays himself, lampooning his infamous Baywatch role - and throwing in a rare reference to his work in Anaconda 3, which made me laugh out loud too. We've seen Hoff being Hoff a lot over the last decade or more - heck, he did this same shtick in Spongebob's movie, which is a weird parallel to make - but I'm not above laughing at his foul mouth and self-deprecating sense of humor again.  Hoff is easily the film's biggest star, and I can't tell a lie: I'd love it if they found away to focus another Piranha flick on The Hoff.

And there's the real rub of it all. Piranha 3DD is stupid, dumb, inappropriate, inept, and even - dare I say - pointless. And despite all that, I'm here admitting that I have a place in my heart for a movie like it. I'm not gonna say guilty pleasure, because I believe in guilty pleasures like I believe in the dramatic appeal of Pauly Shore, but I'm just saying that I'm not above enjoying something this ridiculous. I had fun watching Piranha 3DD, even though I know it's pretty worthless and a bit of a let down from the folks behind Feast. (Y'all should really just go rent the first Feast film instead.)  There's nothing wrong with this film that wasn't already wrong with Piranha 3D, so I guess if you liked that film enough you'll like this film enough.  Like one famously bad horror film once said - It's exactly what you think it is.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #31 - The House of the Devil

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House  Number 34 - Poltergeist  Number 33 - The Abominable Dr. Phibes  Number 32 - The Phantom of the Opera

The House of the Devil

(2009, Dir. by Ti West.)

Why It's Here:

I'm not a guy who throws high praise on newer movies too often.  Well, I generally do praise the ones I truly dig, but it's very rarely that I will throw them ahead of lifelong favorites when I'm doing things like list-making.  So I'm still kind of telling myself to slow down and not go so fast when it comes to The House of the Devil.  But, the thing is, I've already seen this movie like six times in three years and every time I'm more convinced that it's the best thing to happen to horror in a long time.  Ti West's meticulous chiller is endlessly fascinating to me, primarily because of the fantastic restraint shown by the director and his cast.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

Sometimes, the moments in horror that really work are the moments that don't have anything to do with the horror.  One such example comes near the middle of this film, where Jocelin Donahue's lead character provides a break to the unending unease by dancing around the old, ominous house to The Fixx's One Thing Leads To Another.  In a film that's packed with silence, this interlude actually adds to the tension by making us wonder what impact her carefree nature will have on her once the fearful stuff kicks back in.

It Makes an Excellent Double Feature With:

They really don't make 'em like this too often, which makes me feel like I should think back to past horrors when considering a partner for the film. Beautiful young woman meets slow and satanic terrors worked similarly well in 1977's The Sentinel, and - if nothing else - you can compare and contrast how city and country cults differ in methodology.

What It Means To Me:

I talk down to modern horror all the time, and really shouldn't.  There's a ton of good stuff out there, it's just hard to find it sometimes.  The House of the Devil doesn't help its contemporaries out, because it's such a fantastic reminder of how good a horror film can be if it focuses its energy on the right things.  I'll take extreme tension over extreme gore every day of the week, which is just one of the reasons I give The House of the Devil such a big edge over most recent horror films.

Midnight Movie of the Week #126 - The Leopard Man

I had to look up the name of those little clicky clacky musical things that you put on your fingers to make noise in musical settings to write this post.  I used to play with those little things when I was in the high school band - I don't think I ever used them for real musical purposes, but I did use them like a boss - but I never knew their name.  Anyway, they're called castanets (here's what Wikipedia says about them), and they play a crucial role in Jacques Tourneur and Val Lewton's wicked little film The Leopard Man.

Imagine yourself at one of those slightly sleazy, slightly exotic, completely captivating naturally beautiful places of the 1940s.  There's a not-quite-Rita-Hayworth dancer named Clo-Clo performing, but she's interrupted by a rival named Kiki who walks onto the show floor with a friggin' leopard.  Clo-Clo, not one to be upstaged, takes her vicious little castanets - which can definitely deserve a place among the most grating musical instruments under the wrong circumstances - and snaps them in the face of the leopard, who promptly dashes from the premises and escapes into the small New Mexico town.

If you've seen The Leopard Man, you don't need to imagine the setting event that I just described. If you haven't, you might think it's a pretty ridiculous set up for a horror tale.  Two showgirls are feuding and bring castanets and a leopard into the fray? Even Elizabeth Berkley wouldn't stoop that low! But, if you know anything about Val Lewton and Jacques Tourneur, you know that this type of event isn't played with even a tongue in cheek.  This leopard is serious business, and they don't offer any hint that we should think otherwise. The whole incident is played as a straight forward shock to all characters involved - including the waiter who flashes a freshly clawed hand to the camera - which means we aren't surprised the first time we see a character's blood spill as their life is ended.  Oh, you didn't think blood spilled in films of 1943? Don't tell Lewton that.

Like many horror films that would follow - even in slasher films released more than 40-50 years later - the first victim in the film is a young woman who we barely get the chance to meet. We know her name is Teresa, and later investigation shows that she's portrayed by a 20 year old actress named Margaret Landry who must have just been trying to make a name for herself.  She gets to walk alone, she gets to gasp in fear, and she gets to scream and beg and plead for her life...and that's it.  She has to be one of the first actresses to achieve this "honor" in a horror film.  Looking back, her work stands up to all the screaming first blood victims we'd meet in horror's bloody age.

With plenty of moments that would later become slasher traditions - from an opening voyeuristic camera outside the showgirls' dressing rooms to a police officer discussing traits of a "man who kills for pleasure" - The Leopard Man has an interesting place in the mind of the horror historian.  There are no more than three kills in the film and a few lulls in the proceedings, but Tourneur shows his skill for building tension repeatedly.  This was the third film the director made for Lewton - following the far more famous Cat People and I Walked With a Zombie - but Tourneur's skill for storytelling might be at its best here.

It's easy to miss some of the effortless cuts between characters and storylines at work in The Leopard Man.  This is a film that runs a mere 66 minutes, and a part of me wants to argue that the plot really doesn't take off until around the 50 minute mark.  But a closer inspection shows just how well Tourneur bounces from character to character and involves us in their everyday lives.  For example, Clo-Clo seems like our main character in the opening 10 minutes, but the camera simply moves off of her to Teresa as they pass on the street and goes on with her story from there, bouncing back to other characters when necessary.  Director William Friedkin does a commentary of the film on its DVD, and hypothesizes that Quentin Tarantino may have been influenced by Tourneur's skill for intertwining character paths when he made Pulp Fiction.  Friedkin's assessment seems to be a reach at face value, but I can see his point if I really pay close attention to the story's twists.

The Leopard Man is a fascinating piece of horror history when it's dissected, as there are clear parallels to be drawn to modern cinema favorites.  But it's also a great example of the early Hollywood murder mystery and a dark shocker with a surprisingly morbid ending.  There are plenty of ways a viewer can absorb The Leopard Man - maybe you just want to admire the "acting" of Dynamite, the actor/leopard who also starred in Cat People - which should make it a fun viewing for any lover of classic horror cinema.

8 Things I Love About... The Amityville Horror

The house has eyes.

But really the movie's pretty much about the beard.

Creepy kids and their invisible ghost pig friends.

The recurring 3:15 (and some cool '70s clocks).

Rod Steiger. Actor.

Shots from weird angles where the camera seems to be leaning up off the floor. (And the dude's afro.)

The red room haunts me.

No matter how silly and long the movie is (the answer is "a lot" on both accounts) the psycho Brolin stare is pure horror.

FMWL Indie Spotlight - Pretty Dead

(2012, Dir. by Benjamin Wilkins.)

Pretty Dead came to me as a new entry in both the "found footage" and "kinda zombie" subgenres of horror, and I have to admit I approached the film with some caution.  Is there anything new and/or interesting to be said by filmmakers who use these methods? Well, of course there is.  And Pretty Dead does a good job of showing that.

Regina Stevens is a young woman who seems to have the world in front of her. She's an aspiring doctor and has a fiance who loves her, and all of that would be excellent except for the fact that she's dying.  Not in the "we're all dying as we age" way, in the "I did some experimentation with cocaine and passed out and now I don't really have a pulse and have strange and bloody cravings" way.  Since her and her fiance are both medically knowledgeable folks, Regina initially sees this as an opportunity for research - even if she is the guinea pig in the experiment.

As the film takes on a scientific tone, an Animal Planet-style plot twist piqued my interest in the film's vision of infection.  I don't have the scientific mind to explain what the film tells us about the infection Regina is dealing with - the flick's website can give you better information on that than I could, though I think that's a bit spoilery for my tastes - but each of the ideas the film presents feel fresh to the horror scene.  I (obviously) watch a lot of movies that introduce a lot of monsters/infected/killers in a lot of ways, and it's fantastic to find a film that doesn't slip into old standards.  Pretty Dead's biggest strength lies in the ideas behind its plot, which surprised me by offering a new twist on what "zombies" could be.

(I'm of course using the quotation marks on "zombies" because that age old debate on what constitutes zombiedom - Do you have to be dead and buried? Do infecteds count? - is a touchier subject than politics or religion to many I know. Not touching it with a ten foot pole here.)

With an interesting twist to the formula, Pretty Dead is left to its stars and its filmmakers, and they don't disappoint.  Carly Oates stars as Regina, and does a fantastic job during the character's transformation from successful young woman to potentially undead monster. She controls and partially narrates the film - which raises a few small concerns with the found footage format when the film slips into non-found-footage-movie mode - which is very well constructed by director Benjamin Wilkins and co-writer/producer Joe Cook.  There's no Hollywood gloss to the film, which means everything feels pretty natural as it reveals what's going on in Regina's world.

The story doesn't wrap up perfectly - stay through the end credits for not one, but TWO(!) brief scenes that add to the film's narrative - and it telegraphs a few of its final twists early on. But Pretty Dead still left me very impressed with what Wilkins, Cook, Oates and the rest of the cast and crew pulled off. This is a fascinating, unique, and intelligent film that makes the most of its resources.  It's exciting to see a movie that feels as new to the horror genre as Pretty Dead does, and that makes Pretty Dead a horror hit that's just waiting to happen.

Pretty Dead is currently on the festival circuit and awaiting wide release, but keep your eyes peeled for more news on this one.  In the meantime, more information can be found on the official site, which is right about HERE. Or, you can find the flick on Facebook and/or Twitter.  Do it!

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #32 - The Phantom of the Opera

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House  Number 34 - Poltergeist  Number 33 - The Abominable Dr. Phibes

The Phantom of the Opera

(1925, Dir. by Rupert Julian.)

Why It's Here:

Age hasn't been incredibly kind to most silent films. Most of the blame for this must fall on modern viewers, who have been spoiled by bright colors and loud noises.  But if you were to give me the choice between most modern Hollywood horror films and the works of the silent icon Lon Chaney, I know exactly what I'd pick almost every time.  Which brings us to The Phantom of the Opera, which tells the ageless tale on a grand (especially for its time) scale, and Chaney's turn as the title "monster".  Technology has progressed, yet Chaney's performance works just as well today as it did almost 90 years ago.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

This is an easy one, because everything I love about horror stems from the unmasking sequence and Chaney's contorted face that is revealed to us.  It sends chills straight up my spine.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

If you want to see Chaney get real crazy and less made-up, check out his 1927 flick The Unknown - in which Chaney plays an increasingly deranged circus star who is obsessed with wooing a peer played by a young Joan Crawford.  The man shows of at least a couple dozen of his "thousand faces", and the finale is silent cinema gold.

What It Means To Me:

This is a sentimental pick for the list in a lot of ways, because The Phantom of the Opera was my introduction to horror as a child.  It opened my imagination to the possible horrors of the world, and I haven't looked back since. Though it would be easy to shun it in honor of newer and flashier films, that vision of Chaney as the Phantom still pops into my head and reminds me why I love horror all the time. I respect the heck out of that.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #33 - The Abominable Dr. Phibes

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep  Number 40 - Phantom of the Paradise  Number 39 - Dog Soldiers Number 38 - Pontypool  Number 37 - Dark Water  Number 36 - Army of Darkness  Number 35 - The Legend of Hell House  Number 34 - Poltergeist

The Abominable Dr. Phibes

(1971, Dir. by Robert Fuest.)

Why It's Here:

Vincent Price and I are certainly homeboys. And I don't think he's ever been in a more unique, interesting, and all-out FUN film than The Abominable Dr. Phibes.  As a mute and disfigured doctor who is out to avenge the death of his wife (CAROLINE MUNRO!!!!), Price moves through the film like a silent movie star.  He haunts most every scene with his visage - which has been assisted by some fantastic special effects - and unleashes the fury of the 10 Biblical plagues on the doctors and nurses he blames for her death. The concept alone is worth a place on this list.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

Gosh, I really struggle to break Phibes down to one moment.  The most effective moment in the film might be the sequence that involves locusts, but the film goes off the rails into Awesometown long before that scene. From the first time the Doc's robot band kicks out a tune, it is ON.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

Price + Price is always a recipe for success.  The sequel, Dr. Phibes Rides Again, is surprisingly good - some prefer it to the original - but I'm not going that route.  Instead, I'll toss you another late Price gem, Theatre of Blood.  It's almost the same movie in some ways - this time the murders are based on Shakespeare plays and the crimes being avenged are poor reviews - but it's got Price and the lovely Diana Rigg and lots of great stuff.

What It Means To Me:

The Phibes movies and Theatre of Blood always seem like Price's last great stand as a leading horror star to me. But, really, I'm also pretty sure that this is my favorite Price film by a good margin. I don't mean to discredit anything else the man did - I love his work in the '50s and '60s a bunch too - but Phibes just sticks out as something that is really a special film.