Midnight Movie of the Week #132 - Emperor of the North

Sometimes, the measure of a great actor is how well he or she can play against our expectations.  Like, when a guy we know as a comedic buffoon plays a sensitive poet or when a romantic comedy veteran plays an angry stripper.  Taking roles that are against type doesn't automatically make you awesome - if that's how it worked, Elizabeth Berkley would have all the Oscars for shedding her Saved by the Bell image (and all her clothing) for Showgirls.  Extenuating circumstances stopped that scenario from happening - plus she was never exactly Meryl Streep Jr. in the first place.

If we're talking about times when great actors (i.e. - not Elizabeth Berkley) surprised us with their range, we might talk about Emperor of the North.  Or at least I might.  In fact, I've been meaning to talk about this movie for a long time, and it's with a heavy heart that I finally bring it up now, just days after the death of its star, Ernest Borgnine, who has long been one of my favorite actors.

I first took notice of Borgnine, like many genre fans, when he appeared as the endlessly lovable Cabbie in John Carpenter's Escape From New York.  I was certainly late to the party, as Borgnine had been working in TV and film for thirty years when that film was made and closer to fifty years by the time I saw the film.  I'm positive it wasn't the first film I saw that featured the man, but it's definitely the first time I remember taking notice of how good the actor was at his craft.  And as I looked into his earlier films - including true classics like Marty, for which he won the Best Actor Oscar in 1955.

(Fun Fact: To win that Oscar, Borgnine beat a field of competitors that included no less than James Cagney, Charlie Chaplin, Frank Sinatra, and Spencer Tracy. An impressive - and well deserved - feat.)

Borgnine took on several villainous roles - in fact, he opposed Tracy in Bad Day at Black Rock the same year he won his Oscar - but I still generally saw him as a charming grandfather figure who makes me smile when he shows up in any film.  Which makes his work on Emperor of the North that much more impressive.

The film, set in 1933 and the height of the Great Depression, features Borgnine as a sadistic train conductor, known only as "Shack" to both his colleagues and the hobos who fear him.  No punches are pulled in creating this character, as the script calls for Borgnine to brutally beat a man with a large railroad hammer before the opening credits make their way to the screen.  Several of the down-on-their-luck types who populate the film speak of Shack as a mythical villain.  One of the characters even opines with fear that "Shack'd rather kill a man than give him a free ride", as if the character is completely devoid of a soul.

And that's where the surprise I mentioned earlier comes into the film. The script can say whatever it wants about Shack, but only the right actor can make us believe what we learn about Shack.  And - as you can probably guess by now - Borgnine does not disappoint.  There's an intensity behind the man's eyes that comes from a scary place.  It's kind of like that first time a kid sees their parent really angry, and feels like they're seeing an entirely new person, or like that scene from Monsters, Inc. when Boo sees Sully in scary mode.  Borgnine smirks and sneers and almost seems to get a rise from the violent attitude he shows on screen, and it's a complete change from what I used to expect from the jovial actor.

The performance works even better opposite granite faced tough guy Lee Marvin, who does not play against type in this role.  Another past Oscar winner, Marvin plays the cagiest 'bo (that's Shack-speak for hobo, naturally) on the rails, who makes it his goal to ride Shack's train despite the legends of cruelty that precede the railman.  Marvin, covered in dirt and sporting impressive whiskers, is the perfect foil to our snarling madman who has no real motivation for being so vicious.

In fact, it's that lack of motivation (along with some fun asides and a bit of perspective on the culture of that time period) for both characters that really pushes Emperor of the North into a special place.  Shack and his opponent are driven by little more than a desire to be the best at what they are.  Some would say that the hobo is riding for his survival - an idea that is referred to on an opening text that explains the railroad hopping hobo of 1933 - but most scenes that show Marvin's character off the train present a man who is relaxed and care-free in the moment.  My interpretation of the film has always been that this is a battle for supremacy, pure and simple - especially when you realize how little Shack really has on the line in regards to one stinkin' hobo and his tagalong (a young and raw Keith Carradine, who misses a few notes) catching a ride to Portland.

Emperor of the North has all the makings of a fun '70s flick, balancing the line between drama and grindhouse expertly.  But it's these performances that really make it something unique.  I've never seen Ernest Borgnine like he is in Emperor of the North Pole, and this brutal outlier serves as a great example of how seriously the man took his craft.  Shack is a bad, bad man - and Ernest Borgnine isn't going to let the fact that we all think he's the sweetest old man on the block stop him from becoming one of the era's most deadly villains.

R.I.P, Ernest Borgnine. Thank you for the memories, and know that I - and many others - have found great joy in your works. We will miss you.

The Aggression Scale

(2012, Dir. by Steven C. Miller.)

A new twist on the home invasion film arrives in the form of The Aggression Scale, which pits a team of hitmen against a seventeen year old girl and her younger half-brother.  It sounds pretty simple when I put it that way, but I haven't introduced you to the younger half-brother yet.

That youngster is played by a teen actor named Ryan Hartwig, but - with all respect to the young Mr. Hartwig - the actor alone is not what makes the movie work either. the thing that makes the film work is the character, Owen, who happens to be a bullying victim turned institutionalized mute boy turned teenage survival expert with a bad attitude.

The plot follows the two teens and their newly married parents - Bill (Boyd Kestner) and Maggie (Lisa Rotondi - as they movie into a secluded country estate.  But the film only takes us to this home after it introduces a violent killer (Twin Peaks' Dana Ashbrook), his team of accomplices, and an angry crime boss (Ray Wise) who has to leave the country to avoid prison and wants his revenge on whoever stole his money.  The set-up is simple - we've seen "upset gangster in city makes country violence occur" before - but the unique characters provide a spark.

Ashbrook is the film's first revelation, starting with a brutal opening scene that lets us know exactly what kind of movie we're about to see.  The actor is not a physical specimen by any means, and I never found myself physically afraid of his alpha hit man character.  But the film takes advantage of the actor's frailties, and when we do see the character lash out in anger it's effective because we know the character is willing to act inhumanely in an effort to complete his job.  The film also helps Ashbrook get our attention by adding towering horror veteran Derek Mears - who played Jason in the most recent Friday the 13th - to his team of killers.  In another intelligent move, the film makes Mears' character a comical failure, and the series of painful events that happen to his monster-sized character almost make us feel sympathy when he shrieks in pain with his entirely human voice.

Fabianne Therese is the final cog in the  cast, playing the teenage daughter who doesn't understand Owen but knows she needs his help to survive the four killers who have descended on their new home.  She's the voice of reason at times - though her logic when chastising Ashbrook's Lloyd in one crucial scene was a prime example of teenage thinking errors - and plays well off the silent blonde boy who is asked to be this film's Rambo.

Which takes us back to Hartwig, because it's the moments when the young actor is asked to do incredibly violent things that really carry The Aggression Scale to its greatest heights.  The first encounter between Owen and Mears' character is a fantastic moment that sets the stage for the film, with the seemingly catatonic teen rising to action and taking control.  Owen moves through this scene in a deliberate manner, and each move he makes indicates that the youngster has planned out his course of action for this kind of situation well in advance.  The film doesn't harp on bullying like many news reports do, but as we watch Owen act throughout the film we begin to realize that his past traumas have created a truly efficient survivor.

The Aggression Scale works well due to unique characters, well-framed action, and a few excellent performances.  But it reaches another level by handling the character of Owen so well, allowing Hartwig only a few sly smiles and still letting him get his point across.  If you're looking for a violent thriller with an intriguing hook, The Aggression Scale is a movie I definitely recommend seeking out.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #24 - Horror of Dracula

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  Number 28 - Carnival of Souls  Number 27 - Nosferatu  Number 26 - Candyman  Number 25 - The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

Horror of Dracula

(1958, Dir. by Terence Fisher.)

Why It's Here:

First of all, can I just have this poster? It's like the awesomest thing I've ever seen, and I don't even speak Dutch.

(OK, stop rolling your eyes.  I was kidding about the Dutch thing.)

Hammer Films are an acquired taste to modern horror audiences.  The studio produced movies that were essentially remakes - though no one ever seems to call them that - of Universal's classic monsters, and struck gold when they cast Christopher Lee as Dracula and Christopher Lee as Van Helsing.  The first film that offers this collaboration, Horror of Dracula, shines despite a meticulous pace and a lack of abrupt shocks.  This is dramatic - heck, even melodramatic - horror, but it's the kind that keeps me riveted.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

Lee's Dracula career - which went through a lot of ups and downs - began with a bang.  The opening seduction of Jonathan Harker by a gorgeous vampiress is ended quickly by the menacing figure of the actor, who stakes (no pun intended) his claim to the role with passion. 

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

As I mentioned, Lee's tenure as Dracula was not completely positive.  He refused to speak in the first sequel he appeared in, and has lamented many of the later films openly.  But among some of the slips is Freddie Francis' Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, which features the keen eye of one of my favorite directors and my favorite Lee-as-Dracula moment of biting on film.  I wrote a bit about the scene in a guest piece for The Bloodsprayer one time, and I'm still pretty sure that scene makes the movie.

What It Means To Me:

Hammer films have always been the kind of films that inspired me to love horror.  They're not just here to get to the viewer on a visceral level - though they did offer vibrant colors, excellent music, and a lot of blood for their era - they're interested in telling an old fashioned horror tale.  And no film shows just how much they respect horror standards as Horror of Dracula does.  Some see it as slow and bloodless, I see it as horror poetry.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #25 - The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

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  Number 28 - Carnival of Souls  Number 27 - Nosferatu  Number 26 - Candyman

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

(1974, Dir. by Tobe Hooper.)

 Why It's Here:

Too low? This is probably too low, right?  You can say it, I won't blame you.

One of the most intense films ever made, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is one of those movies that you could throw at someone who doesn't know what a horror movie is and say "Here, watch this. This is a horror movie."  An unrelenting and unpolished opus of terror, Tobe Hooper's film features several of the best shocks you'll find and pairs them with memorable (and sometimes terribly annoying) interactions between the characters and moments of pure torture.  It might be the horror film that is most taxing to watch...which is actually a good thing.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

All I need to say is "the part where he slams the steel door". And if you've seen it, you know. Seriously, I can't think of a single moment in horror that has as much shock value as that one does.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

This is one of many films loosely based on the exploits of Wisconsin serial killer Ed Gein.  Most famously, Psycho and The Silence of the Lambs borrow from the same case.  But a film released a couple of years prior to Massacre, Deranged is a lesser known companion to Hooper's film.  It's dark in it's own ways - though it'll probably play like Shaun of the Dead next to Leatherface - and it features a one-of-a-kind performance from Roberts Blossom (aka, old scary guy who's actually nice from Home Alone) as the killer.

What It Means To Me:

If I had to guess why I rank a movie that I know is so important and I know shocks me to my core so low on this list (then again, it's not like 25 out of every horror movie I've ever seen is "low"), it's probably because this film is truly a chore to watch sometimes.  It's so brutal and it's so unforgiving and sometimes it's even a bit shrill and...well, sometimes that's just not as fun to watch as something else.  Of course, that just means it's doing its job really well.  When it's time to bring horror at its most vicious, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is the movie I turn to.

Midnight Movie of the Week #131 - Buffy The Vampire Slayer

I had a "last horror nerd to the party" moment lately, when I finally started watching season two of Joss Whedon's Buffy The Vampire Slayer television series.  I'm not gonna lie - I had a mad crush on Sarah Michelle Gellar back when that show kicked in and I was a 16 year old The Mike. I'm pretty sure I set a bunch of the backgrounds in the computer lab at my high school to pictures of her, but that's creepy and beside the point.  She was dreamy, yo.  And yet, I avoided the show completely (until I randomly watched Season 1 a couple of years ago and was kind of unimpressed), something that I can probably attribute to two factors. First, I was a teenage boy who thought he would be less awesome if he watched something that looked "girly".  Second, I had already loved the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie when I was 11.

You will note that I referred to only one of the two Buffy The Vampire Slayers as "Joss Whedon's" above.  If you're unaware of the man and or the brand name - It's safe to call Buffy a brand, right? - you should know that I'm not implying that the dude who went on to create Firefly and Serenity and to direct The Avengers didn't have a hand in the cinematic adventure that started Buffy on her path to television.  But Whedon seems to have worked hard to distance himself from the film, which he wrote with series executive producer Fran Rubel Kuzui directing, due to extensive studio interference in the script and some troubles with the actors on screen.  As someone who had seen the movie first - I still vividly remember the theater experience - I didn't really care about this stuff when I first read about it, especially after I watched the ho-hum first season of the show.

After powerhousing through the vastly improved season two (and now about half of season three) in recent weeks, I've certainly changed my position on television's Buffy.  I still struggle with some of the characters and it seems like there are more episodes where Buffy slays non-vampires than vampires, but it's got the same balance between goofy fun and serious drama (that refuses to be affected by an outlandish premise) that I've come to expect from the other things I've seen from Whedon. Sometimes I think that the way to tell if a TV show is great is to see whether or not you will continue to be addicted to the show when you wish the writers would change the characters' decisions or relationships.  For example, when you have to deal with Casey and Dana never working out on Sports Night or when Veronica Mars continues to choose the stupidest boyfriends ever (and manages to get roofied approximately 27 times) - but you stick with them anyway.  The Buffy Show passes that test with flying colors, because there are so many moments - particularly so far in season three - where I find myself thinking "Oh Buffy! What you doin' girl?!" or "Man, Xander just needs to never open his mouth again!". I think these things, but I'm still desperate to see where the show goes next and am already ready to forgive the characters as soon as they do something to totally redeem themselves. 

Wait...I'm here to talk about the movie, aren't I?

The point I'm trying to make, I think, by shouting out my opinion on TV Buffy's universe, is that I can see why Whedon is disappointed with the movie version now.  The guy loves to take his ridiculousness seriously, and the producers/studio folks behind the film adaptation - armed with a surprisingly perfect cast and a concept that would lend itself to comedy - decided to take it in a different direction.  Even after I'd seen season one of BuffyTV, I had the studio guys' back on this one. 

Kristy Swanson (who had a strong run of starring roles in films of little success over the next few years) headlines the film, and her Buffy shares more with the women in movies like Valley Girl or Clueless than any vampire story ever told.  Her portrayal of Buffy preys on the stereotypes of a southern California teen whose eyes are primarily on boys, cheerleading, and shopping - things that are mentioned, but barely utilized in the television series - while still giving the actress a chance to show off plenty of slaying skills. Donald Sutherland - who feuded with Whedon on set, which is part of what led to the writer allegedly walking off the project - takes on the role of her "watcher", while Rutger Hauer apes Vincent Price as the lead vampire who threatens Buffy's high school existence.  With serious actors surrounding the bubbly beauty we do get to see some of the discord between the watcher and slayer that became a key element of the latter series, but Sutherland's improvisation and Hauer's hammy performance don't really look like they'd belong in the world Whedon wanted.

One can argue the different tones between the film and series all day. Whedonites will certainly back the show primarily. They might note that Anthony Stewart Head's Giles is a far more interesting character than Sutherland's Merrick, and that Giles is a character who maintains some great comedy value despite his depth.  I'd agree with them.  On the other hand, I'm more inclined to take a cheesy villain who still seems like a physical threat, such as Hauer's character here, than several of the one-note villains that appear in the series.  For example, season one is all about the return of "The Master" - a deep voiced, monotonous character who seems like an undead version of the loathable bully that actor Mark Metcalf played in Animal House.  At least Hauer's fun to watch, right?

A young Seth Green, on the left, is the only actor to play a main character on the show and appear in the film.

I've turned this into a debate pitting the merits of the film vs. those of the show again, which was only partially my intent when I started writing this post. There's no winning on either side, nor do I think there needs to be.  The creator wants us to forget the finished product that is this film and watch his show and read his comics, which is his right.  But the creator is only one part of the process, and I know - since I was part of it - there was an audience for a more comedic and less cynical version of his story at the time.

Plus it has Pee Wee Herman and the best death scene ever.

The film's dated styles and the existence of the series have not been kind to Buffy the movie. But even as I become slightly addicted to Whedon's intended Buffyverse, I still find a very soft spot in my heart for this comedic film that seems to exist somewhere between Teen Wolf and Encino Man.  If I was just getting to the movie now and had already seen the series, this post probably wouldn't exist. I kind of feel lucky that I got in to Buffy when I did - "on the ground floor", you might say - because I can now debate the merits of each version while still respecting both of them. If you aren't biased by the show and are looking for an accessible vamp-com, Buffy the Vampire Slayer is worth your time, no matter what Joss Whedon says.

(Sorry, Joss. Serenity still rules!)

1981 - The Year The Mike Made Contact

When Eric from over at The Movie Waffler asked me to take part in a little Blogathon he's got going on, I got a little psyched.  The topic, should I choose to accept it, is what he calls "The Year I Made Contact" - asking folks who love movies to talk about the movies from the year in which said movie lover was born. (Like, could I say movie a few more times?  Movie.  There, I did.)

If you wanna go straight to what other people said, click the baby!

When I got offered the chance to write about this topic, I took a moment to ask myself some questions. "Hey, The Mike...do you think the movies from the year you were born had an impact on you?  Like, maybe there's some kind of magical juju in the air that wafted off the movie screen and made you The Mike you are?"  And I was like "Nah, man, that's crazy."  But then I looked at the list of movies I've seen from 1981 (thanks to my good friends over at Flickchart, I can do that kind of stuff easily) and I was like "Whoa, The Mike...1981 and you is like...a magical conjunction!"

(Don't worry, I have Valley Girl-ish conversations with myself all the time. It's totally tubular and also normal for me.  Just run with it.)

Back on topic - 1981.  As far as I can count, there are 50 movies from 1981 that I've seen. And I can say with little hesitation that every single one of them makes me at least a little bit excited.  They're not all excellent films, and some struggle to get anywhere near good, but I swear with all my Mikeness that every movie I've seen from that year has something unique and catchy and attention-grabbing about it.

Jillian Kesner in the kung-fu/exploitation cheese-o-rama Firecracker.

When I try to break down 1981 - which is seriously no easy task for me when I'm this stoked about movies that aren't even good like Firecracker or The Nesting or The Survivor - I see a few distinct categories of movies that fit my cinema lovin' persona.  I'm a little afraid to start this next part - because I know I'm going to forget to mention something my gut thinks is great - but here's a run down of what sticks out (the most) to me from 1981.

Heads will roll - but not float - in Eyes of a Stranger.

The Slashers

As I discussed when I covered The Slasher Movie Book a few weeks ago, 1981 was right in the middle of the slasher movie's "golden age".  There are a few movies from the year that I will watch despite their silliness - stuff like, Graduation Day, The Burning, Hell Night, and Eyes of a Stranger (Oh, man, Eyes of a Stranger is something else!) - but there are also some big dogs of slasherdom too.  Halloween II and Friday the 13th Part 2 both took their brands down defining paths, with the former introducing the family ties between killer and victims and the latter introducing the fully grown Jason.  Both films are highly flawed, but pretty iconic at times, with a couple of the best moments in either series hidden within.  Alongside those films are three of my favorite stand-alone slasher films, My Bloody Valentine, The Prowler, and Just Before Dawn.  These are three movies that represent exactly what the slasher was at the peak of its popularity, embracing the cliches while finding unique ways to make viewers love their kind of carnage.

The Non-Horror Stuff

I know I'm all about the genre stuff and the wacky stuff here, but there are a lot of 1981 movies I need to mention to feel OK about myself.  Some are pretty obvious - most anyone talking about 1981 will surely mention Raiders of the Lost Ark, which has to be the year's most popular and enduring film - while others were big hits at the time that are slightly obscure to the masses these days.  Films like Body Heat, The Cannonball Run, Stripes, and The Road Warrior are still loved in circles of movie buffs, but have primarily been relegated to "Movies that people pillage and update to make fresh young movies" status by greedy Hollywoodians and ignorant kids.

I will always miss John Belushi.

For me, there are a few lesser known films from the year that still stick out too.  The fantastic John Belushi, who's still my favorite comedian ever and kind of a hero to me, had his last two movies - the sweet and heartfelt Continental Divide and the zany and psychotic Neighbors - released in 1981, before his untimely death in 1982.  Another comedic favorite, Mel Brooks, released History of the World - Part 1, which is not among my favorite of his films, but is still a cracking spoof at times.  Sylvester Stallone, Billy Dee Williams, and Rutger Hauer starred in the ridiculously serious serial killer thriller Nighthawks, which stands tall as one of the greatest facial hair movies of all-time.  George A. Romero took a break from zombies with the renaissance fairs and motorcycles epic Knightriders - buoyed by a young and intense Ed Harris - and made a ridiculous premise stick out as one of his better post Dawn of the Dead films.

Hey everybody! It's Ron Perlman!

1981 also featured one of the most unique films I've ever seen; a film that I find endlessly watchable despite little facts like next to nothing happening and no comprehensible dialogue. Jean-Jacques Annaud's Quest For Fire, about cavemen who have to gain and protect fire back in the days long before matches is a one-of-a-kind epic that I dig.  I don't have a clue what it's saying most of the time - but I think I like what it means.  And it's pretty once you get past all the hair.

The Horrors That Aren't All Slashy

While the slashers dominated the horror scene of the early '80s in many regards, there are several horror movies from 1981 that shine in other ways.  But, like the slashers, not all of them are firing on all cylinders.  Ghost Story is swimming in atmosphere and has a dynamite cast of Hollywood legends, but has some pacing issues.  Similar concerns took some spotlight away from Wolfen, in which Albert Finney faces New York City werewolves that have something to do with a Native American ritual - which means the movie's slow and also batstuff crazy.  Oliver Stone wrote and directed (Seriously! Oliver Stone! I'm not making this up!) The Hand, in which Michael Caine (Seriously!) deals with the loss of his hand which is now killing people, a movie that I love dearly but have a hard time defending. Maybe it's the gorgeous Andrea Marcovicci that draws me in and tricks me, or maybe it's the fact that the film is a psychological look at the effect of Thing from The Addams Family going on a rampage.   Either way, I can't stop loving The Hand.

On the more successful side of 1981, we find a couple more interesting horrors.  I'm not the biggest fan of Joe Dante's The Howling - I think it lacks too much of the comedic charm of his other films and is kind of poorly cast - but it's a great throwback to The Wolf Man with Dee Wallace at the top of her game and some great special effects.  Dead and Buried, on the other hand, is exactly my kind of straight-faced horror film, as the combination of writer Dan O'Bannon and director Gary Sherman brings forth an atmospheric and genuinely scary small town horror film. 

Just go watch The Pit and tell me it's not creepy/awkward. I dare ya.

If you're a regular reader of this site, you know that the Midnight Movie of the Week is pretty much my signature post.  I've been running it for 130 straight weeks now, and I wasn't surprised when I learned that no less than six (6!) of the movies I've picked for what I think is a prestigious honor came from 1981.  Among these are two surprisingly shocking horrors featuring mini-sized terrors, The Pit and Bloody Birthday.  The Pit has a little boy who's controlled by his teddy bear and some cave-dwelling trogs, and it's a film that never stops being its own brand of entertaining crazy.  Bloody Birthday is more straight forward, with three evil kids doing evil things for the sake of evil, but it is unsubtle in every way and goes out of its way to show extreme violence around (and sometimes toward) little children.

Though it might not be strictly a horror film, Roadgames features Jamie Lee Curtis in an early role and sports one of my favorite sensational movie posters of all-time.  For the most part, the film is Stacy Keach playing Rear Window from the cab of a semi that's crossing Australia, which makes it one of the most rewatchable films in my collection.  It's been relatively forgotten - it didn't even make the cut in the discussion of Jamie Lee's early roles in Scream - but Richard Franklin's thriller has long been a favorite of mine.  It's also been Midnight Movie of the Week.

The Top Five

When I really - and I mean really, those last thirteen paragraphs were just me warming up - break it down, there are five movies from 1981 that stand out as the gems of the year to me.  (Yes, I know Raiders of the Lost Ark should be here too, but I'm leaving it to the smarter people...and I'm more of a Last Crusade guy, to be honest.)  Here's a brief look at each of them.

If I'm being snooty and not acknowledging Halloween as a slasher - sometimes I like to pretend that it's "above" the moniker since it started the fire burning - Happy Birthday to Me easily takes the bithday cake as my favorite.  Another former MMOTW, the movie only came to my attention because one of those "The Day You Were Born" things my mom hung outside my bedroom had it listed as a popular movie of the time, and I found that terribly ironic.  It's perhaps the Lawrence of Arabia of slasher movies - I swear it's almost two hours long! - but it's got awesome kills, goofy characters, and all the '80s cheese you need. And the kids make references to classic movies, which makes me long for the days when we weren't being force fed so much new crap and we still remembered things like The Hunchback of Notre Dame or High Noon.  But that's another topic for another day...

Part of the reason I'm not so wild about The Howling might be the fact that I am wild about An American Werewolf in London.  I know it would be the nice thing to do if I accepted both movies for what they are - and I do still dig The Howling, dammit! - but An American Werewolf in London just sticks out to me as such a perfect film.  As I once wrote in a piece for the Flickchart Blog, it is truly a "one of a kind" movie with the perfect mix of comedy, action, and horror.  It too pays tribute to The Wolf Man in a great way, and it never keeps me from smiling.

The Evil Dead needs no introduction to most horror fans.  I feel terribly blessed that I, despite my age, found the original film first - unlike most of my classmates in school, who met Ash in Army of Darkness.  The Evil Dead still intrigues me on many levels, as it's one of the most immersive movie experiences I've ever been a part of.  Some remember the series for Bruce Campbell and the gags of the later films - and sometimes I do too - but the original Evil Dead deserves mad love for being a non-stop attack on the viewer.  

Another movie that I love for its bleakness - man, when you get down to it, 1981 was all about how we're doomed - is Brian De Palma's Blow Out.  John Travolta and Nancy Allen star in what looks like an average thriller, but the twists and turns of the plot lead up to a fantastic conclusion that is perhaps the most heart-breaking thing ever filmed.  It's full of De Palma's trademark sleaze and features a psychotic John Lithgow and a slimy Dennis Franz, which makes it the kind of film (Another past MMOTW!) that just traps my eyeballs and never lets them go.

Lastly, we reach the man I admire more than almost anyone - Snake Plissken.  You may call him a fictional character who was played by Kurt Russell, but I call him an ideal.  I call him an institution. I call him the spirit of everyone who's ever been fed up with having to go along with society's expectations and I call him the champion of every man who ever just wanted to sit down and be done with the crap.  I honestly call him a hero.

Escape From New York isn't the best movie of the year by any technical regard, and some may even say it's a little light in the plot department.  Some even knock the one-note antihero, but they miss the things that makes me love Snake Plissken and this film so dearly.  You might see Escape From New York as a silly film that guessed wrong about 1997, but I see it as a statement about society that features a character who has the resolve to stand up against anything.  As I said when I named it Midnight Movie of the Week on a decidedly low day, Escape From New York gives me a satisfaction about my course in life.

Snake Plissken is certainly my champion of 1981, but as I look back at the year I find so many movies to love that represent just what it is I love about movies.  They're not the happy-go-lucky movies that most people prefer - but those aren't the movies that I'm here for.  In an almost fatalistic way, the films of 1981 and I share many of the same opinions on what cinema can be, and this chance to look back at that year's films has been a thrill for me.

Don't forget to click the baby!

As I mentioned at the beginning of this thing - which I really thought would be shorter! - you can check out the rest of the The Year I Made Contact Blogathon over at The Movie Waffler.  So head on over and see what's up. If you have your own site, check in over there and join the party.  Or, you can just tell me what you think of your birth year (or what you think of 1981) in the comments below.  The possibilities, like my love-filled ramblings about 1981, are nearly endless.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #26 - Candyman

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  Number 28 - Carnival of Souls  Number 27 - Nosferatu

Candyman

(1992, Dir. by Bernard Rose.)

Why It's Here:

Balancing on the line between the old-fashioned ghost film and the slasher film, Clive Barker's tale of the Candyman always has something unique up its sleeve.  Anchored by Tony Todd's titanic frame and a haunting musical score by renowned composer Phillip Glass, Candyman is a one-of-a-kind horror film.  But it's not all kills and scares, with a focus on urban legends and their place in cultures and societies serving as a fascinating companion to the horror trademarks of the film.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

Any moment in which Candyman surprises a potential victim is worthwhile, but the film's most haunting image occurs when he shows up in broad daylight, beckoning Virginia Madsen's Helen from the other end of a parking garage.  Todd's booming voice should create unease in even the most cynical viewer.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

One of the central themes of the film - as with much of the horror realm - is to be careful what you wish for.  In a roundabout way, it's the same kind of theme as Stan Winston's '80s monsterfest Punpkinhead.  The urban legend comes to life and runs out of control in both films, and the sharp contrast between the settings and characters in the two films should make this double feature an interesting social experiment in poverty, revenge, and fate.

What It Means To Me:

My first blitz into horror of the R-rated variety occurred in the early 1990s, and Candyman stood tall as one of the shining examples of what horror is.  It's an intelligent story that still feels like it came from a campfire tale of terror, and it still packs all of the punch that it did 20 years ago.

Midnight Movie of the Week #130 - Eight Legged Freaks

Hollywood seems to have forgotten that they once made a ton of money on the giant animals subgenre of sci-fi and horror cinema.  It is true that most of that money came in way back in the 1950s - and that the times have changed quite a bit since then - but I still find it a bit odd that the type of film which put known actors and impressive special effects against mutations of science that resemble their real world counterparts has pretty much disappeared from existence.  Especially when you look at the surprising outlier to this equation, the 2002 spider-epic Eight Legged Freaks.

Though the Hollywood "stars" - David Arquette and Kari Wuhrer (the latter of whom seemed to be "the next big babe" for about 6 years running and was fading from prominence at this point) - are unimpressive and the special effects are not always fantastic, Eight Legged Freaks is a film that does not settle in behind its limitations.  Writer/director Ellory Elkayem, who was noticed by the producers thanks to a big bug short film he made a few years earlier, seems completely interested in making this type of film and shows a strong love for the standards set by big bug films gone by.

From the ominous opening warning (turned conspiracy tirade) by Cool Runnings' Doug E. Doug to the barrel of toxic waste and an "origin" scene featuring the great and powerful Tom Noonan, Eight Legged Freaks is rooted deeply in the methods of the classic mutant monster films that came long before it.  There's family drama (Wuhrer plays a single mom, with her teenage daughter played by a young Scarlett Johansson(!), getting her early career "scream queen" on), there's the displaced hero (Arquette, returning to his hometown as an outsider as the outbreak begins), and there's plenty of teeter-tottering between monster action and scenes without monsters in which characters debate the existence of monsters. 

The whole film is written to formula - you could pretty much shake this script out and the pieces would fit into cracks in the scripts for Them or Tarantula almost 50 years earlier - but the fresh coat of paint and some technical prowess do wonders for the film.  Colors pop off the screen, and the color pallete of the film seems to almost emulate a comic book horror tale, with the southwestern USA setting shining under the blazing sun and glistening under a blue moonlight.  Music from talented composer John Ottman adds a lot to the film, and the script manages to balance between eras with its monster action.  In one scene we see an old man attacked in an armchair.  In another, we see dirtbikers stampeded by giant arachnids.  There's a little something for everyone.

Many have listed Eight Legged Freaks as a "horror comedy", and I will concede that there are a few jokes scattered throughout the film.  But I've always felt it was a little unfair for the film to be labeled as such, because it seems like a lot of people come to that conclusion based on the film's sensational premise.  Younger generations aren't accustomed to films that make huge leaps of science and take them seriously, like those giant spider films mentioned earlier, and I think that hurt the perception of Eight Legged Freaks a lot. The film hauled in just 17 million at the US box office - I imagine it covered costs and made a profit with video, but not by much - and a lot of people who did see it labeled the film "so bad, it's good" or worse.

Maybe there's not as much of a market for mutated insects as I wish there was, but I still feel like Eight Legged Freaks is sorely underappreciated. It's got the same small-town charm that Tremors offered, some Gremlins-like scenes of mayhem, and it plays the viewer just like any good matinee monster movie should.  Eight Legged Freaks works as an old-school monster flick, and it adapts to its time well, too.  By the time the town mall and some dirt bikes in underground caverns come into the film, Eight Legged Freaks has established its place as a b-monster madhouse, and I think anyone who's open to the idea of giant spiders in a small desert town will leave the film with a smile.

FMWL Indie Spotlight - Low

(2011, Dir. by Ross Shepherd.)

There's something about distance from society that just brings out the horror in people, isn't there?  You can set a horror movie in the middle of a city, sure, but is it really as scary as when the character realizes they have miles around them and no place to go?  You can have all the green hills in the world in front of you, but when there's an aggressor around you and you don't know which way is out...well, you might as well be trapped in a box or cell.

By following those ideas, Low is an exercise in tension that approaches the viewer with only a few resources.  One woman walks into the British countryside for her own reasons. She encounters one man who is wandering the same countryside for his own reasons.  The movie adds a few more characters and a couple other settings, but the focus of the film is directly on three things - the woman, the man, and the rolling green hills.  And - if you're following the definition strictly - none of these three things are innocent.

The less you know about Low's plot will be a definite benefit to the experience.  Though it runs under 70 minutes, the indie feature is packed full of twists - some blatant, some shocking - as we follow the path of Alice (Amy Comper), the scared woman, and Edward (David Keyes), the man who seems to hold her captive in the wide open countryside.

When you take one look at the man, you can tell that Edward is one of those seedy types of villains that only seem to come from England.  Keyes plays the role well, offsetting his delicate frame with bold and vicious explanations of what's going on with him. The words he speaks are direct and ominous, and they sell the man's deadly mindset better than any amount of violence could.  It's a cold performance that's gripping to watch, especially when we start to learn more about why Edward is the way he is.

On the other side of the coin is Alice, who is better prepared for a bullying male figure than Edward might think.  The character seems like the traditional damsel in distress early in the film, but a big reveal about what is going on in her life stands the film on end and makes us think twice about Alice and why she's here.  I won't go into the details of just what she endures through the film - again, the surprise of this film is crucial to its charm - but there was certainly a moment that had me fully shaken from my comfort zone and left me feeling deeply affected by the film's representation of human horror.

The third star of the film - and certainly the aspect of the film that drew me in to the story the most - is the stunning cinematography. I'm not a technophile by any means, so I can't tell you just what the cameras used were or how the picture was achieved, but I can say that the movie looks and sounds phenomenal. Colors pop off the screen just as they would in any big budget film, and the cameras do their best to make the settings look like landscapes out of a dream.  There's something terrifically haunting about a film that looks so beautiful yet contains some pretty unspeakable things, and Low gets plenty of benefit from how beautiful the film looks.

Considering how professional the film appears, it's a bit of a surprise to learn that director Ross Shepherd put the film together over a two week span in 2010, working with merely a three man crew.  I can't imagine the limitations that the filmmaker and company were dealing with, but the final product definitely overcomes most of the shortcomings.  My few complaints were tied to the plot, where a few of the developments seemed a little forced and the characters' motivations occasionally border on silly.

With a plot that keeps the viewer on their toes and some interesting characters, Low plays out like a story from The Twilight Zone.  There are a few leaps of faith to be made, but none are deal breakers.  When you add in how well the film is presented, Low seems like the kind of thriller that's just begging to be found.  If you're a fan of minimalist thrillers that keep the focus on the characters - some modern comparisons would be Vincenzo Natali's Cube or Stuart Hazeldine's Exam - Low is a film that you're going to want to watch out for.

If you want more information, don't hesitate to check out the film's official website, and make sure you check out the trailer below.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #27 - Nosferatu

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  Number 28 - Carnival of Souls

Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens

(1922, Dir. by F.W. Murnau.)

Why It's Here:

NINETY YEARS after its release, the first infamous vampire thriller stands as more of a template for horror than anything else.  An unsubtle adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula (the book, not the one with Gary Oldman...DUH!) from the silent era, F.W. Murnau's film represents just what filmmakers like himself and Fritz Lang were working to do in the early years of cinema.  Through all the wonderful images in the film, it's the everlasting visage of Max Schreck as the Count that stands out. It might be the definitive image of a vampire on film.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

Pretty much anything to do with Schrek's sinister hands, which are captured in shadow form countless times by Murnau and crew.  The scene in which we see the shadow creeping up a stairway is still effective, as is the Count's rise from his coffin, which is a pretty stunning special effect for its time.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

Though most remakes don't belong in the same sentence as their predecessors, Werner Herzog's 1979 version, Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht, is an artistic and engrossing retelling of the story with an equally creepy Count played by the ever-villainous Klaus Kinski.  The remake runs a little long, but it's worth the time and was a serious contender for this Top 50 list. 

If you want to be a completist, you might follow up both films with Shadow of The Vampire, which tells the (fictional) tale of the 1922 production.  It features John Malkovich as Murnau and Willem Dafoe in an Oscar nominated turn as Schreck.

What It Means To Me:

I will always give an edge to classic horror. I'm very much of the "We'll never get where we're going if we forget where we have been" mindset when it comes to movies.  But Nosferatu is a visual powerhouse that still packs some shivers, and it's a lot more than just an "honorary" member of this list.  Murnau and Schreck might be the ultimate power duo in expressionist horror - I mean, really, they basically invented it - and I'm going to give them respect on any day of the week.

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

(2012, Dir. by Timur Bekmambetov.)

If you're willing to believe that Abraham Lincoln was actually a Vampire Hunter, you're either a fool or a fantastic mind of underestimated brilliance. (It's not my place to judge which, thankfully.)  On the other hand, if you're willing to accept a movie called Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter then you'll probably have fun with this one.

I know that sounds like an obvious statement, but I don't have anything profound to say about this adaptation of the Seth Grahame-Smith novel.  Like many of the most ridiculously conceived genre films out there, the film's biggest success is that it offers exactly what it advertises.  We get a tale of the life of Abraham Lincoln, played with a stiff seriousness by Benjamin Walker, and we get the hunting of vampires.  And we get a lot of it.

If you're looking for a historical account of Lincoln's life, this is (again, obviously) not it. The story begins with the future politician's mother's death at the hands of a vampire when he was just nine.  Years later, the young Mr. Lincoln becomes old enough to start hunting for revenge, which leads him to a trainer (Dominic Cooper) and a profession as a vampire hunter.  But being the 19th century's version of Buffy isn't the most interesting task, I guess, so Abe soon makes his way to Springfield, where his political career picks up steam.

There's no escaping his fate, however, as Lincoln and his friends often run across the undead.  And as we move into his presidential tenure and the things he's most remembered for - you know, things like fighting against slavery and that whole Civil War/Gettysburg thing - history gets more than a few re-writes.  In this version we have vampires, led by stodgy Rufus Sewell in his 37th straight villain role and a Victoria's Secret model in a corset, have made a deal with Jefferson Davis and are trying to help the South change the course of history.

With its ridiculous plot covered, the only thing there really is to talk about in the film is the action.  Anyone who's seen director Timur Bekmambetov work before - through either his breakthrough Russian Night/Day Watch films or the big budget Wanted, the latter of which dropped almost exactly four years ago - will be accustomed to the director's frantic style.  There's plenty of slow motion, plenty of people's faces heading directly toward the camera, and someone will probably disappear once or twice.  The director has made his name by being inventive in the way he frames things, and his talent for changing the speed of time as it fits his film doesn't go to waste here. 

The film gets plenty of cool points for the various sequences featuring Lincoln swinging around his silver-tipped axe (These must be werewolf-bred vampires, no?), as the director and his choreographers found plenty of different ways to showcase the weaponry.  The final battle, an unrealistic-yet-fantastic-looking sequence aboard a speeding train on a burning bridge, is a perfect example of what Bekmambetov is all about.  All of the action sequences are entirely foolish from a practical standpoint, but I think the brash disregard for reality just adds to the charm of the film.

As far as I can see, the only major problem with Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is the premise. I know most people will struggle to take a film that so blatantly turns history into fantasy, as this is certainly one of the biggest exercises in "suspension of disbelief" out there.  As a fan of silly vampire action, Bekmambetov's psychotic direction, and inappropriate re-writes of history, I had fun with Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.  It's not high art, but I can honestly say it's an entertaining piece of action fluff.  Just lighten up, smile a little, and enjoy the ridiculousness of it all.