Movie Review

Movie Review – Teeth (2007)

**Movie Review – Teeth (2007)**

(Oh-oh here she comes)

Watch out boy, she’ll chew you up!

(Oh-oh here she comes)

She’s a maneater!

– “Maneater” (1982) by Hall & Oates

Vagina dentata – this Latin expression for “toothed vagina” is found in myths across the globe and is generally thought to stem from a fear of sexual intercourse, whether as a man entering an alien place where a piece of himself is left, or as a woman fearful of injury or rape. Female biology, for the vast majority of human history and unfortunately in some communities still today, was a source of mystery. As we all know, the woman’s sexual organs are on the inside, not exposed like a man’s. Therefore people asked: What could she be hiding? Why does she bleed each month? What mysteries are at the root of her ability to create and pass life through her body? Lack of scientific knowledge, coupled with age-old superstition, is at the root of the idea that a woman can house teeth in her vagina, ready to devour any man’s denim bulge who might be seduced into her hungry fly trap.

While female biology is little mystery to most modern Americans, or should be, there are still conservative segments who believe such knowledge is damaging to maturing teens, leading to temptation and spiritual corruption. They champion abstinence-only education and such puerile gimmicks as purity rings, despite a wealth of evidence that suggests such an approach is not only less effective in preventing unwanted results such as teen pregnancy, but may in fact help contribute to it.

Such a person is the central character to 2007’s Teeth. Dawn O’Keefe (appropriate last name), played by Jess Weixler, is a Christian creationist teen who is committed to saving her virginity for marriage and who champions purity rings at church youth groups. Her own body is an enigma and when she’s raped by a trusted love interest she finds that she possesses a special biological adaptation that quickly puts the forced entry to a mangled end. Such a situation is repeated throughout the film, giving the viewer many shots – mostly darkly humorous – of severed penises and shocked males holding their bloody, emasculated stumps.

As a male viewer this is horrifying stuff, but the film is filled to the brim with guys who want to take advantage of her so there’s no end to the justification for her castrations. Dawn goes from naïve innocent to feminist vigilante, embracing evolution and her own sexual prowess along the way. The depiction of men is decidedly negative – I half-expected her step-father, the only half-way decent guy in the film, to try to molest her, so prevalent was the male misogyny – and the film might have been better served to at least have one sympathetic young male to relate to, or a positive male sexual role model to at least let the audience know that they exist. Certain characters were arguably not entirely deserving of the level of malice she bit into them, though they were not at all sympathetic.

Despite this quibble, Teeth is elevated by a strong performance from its lead. Weixler plays the role just right, from perky good-girl teen to horrified man-eater to confident man-devourer.

Writer and director Mitchell Lichtenstein smartly infuses his movie with black comedy and symbolism. Of the latter, there are the many references to serpents, which represent not only Satan’s temptation of Eve (“the serpent beguiled me and I ate”), signifying her drift from Christianity, but also Medusa, as Dawn herself becomes something that can be considered gorgonesque. As a visual metaphor, the cave opening in which she first discovers her power is dripping with toothy stalactites. An environmental message seems to also be at play. We repeatedly see two huge breast-like smoke stacks continually spewing smoke into the air. We can surmise that this is the source of Dawn’s mother’s cancer, and perhaps the cause of her mutation as well.

There were some choices made by the filmmaker that had me scratching my head. The cinematography is sometimes grainy, as though scenes were lightened significantly in post-production. Also, we see a lot of chewed man-meat, but despite the film partly addressing society’s fear in even acknowledging basic female biology (such as the anatomy textbooks having stickers covering the vagina), her weapon is never brought into the light. I am not saying this is a bad choice, but it is perhaps an odd one that undermines at least one of the film’s messages. Nevertheless, Teeth is a smart, funny, and entertaining film that will likely resonate with most women, but is a movie that guys should be sure to see too.

Grade: B-

March 3, 2016 2

Movie Review – Hellraiser: Hellseeker (2002)

**Movie Review – Hellraiser: Hellseeker (2002)**

Hellraiser: Hellseeker (2002) is the sixth installment in the Hellraiser franchise. Directed by Rick Bota, it marks the return of Ashley Laurence as Kirsty Cotton, heroine of Hellraiser (1987) and Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988), albeit in a small role. It is also the last Hellraiser film to have any input from Clive Barker, who was outspoken in his dislike of its predecessor, Hellraiser: Inferno (2000) and the direction in which Scott Derrickson took the mythos. In small ways this story seeks to correct the moralizing direction of that entry and focus once again on the dualities of human existence, notably good and evil and pain and pleasure.

As Pinhead, played once again by Doug Bradley, asks Dean Winters’character, “Which do you find more exhilarating, Trevor, pain or pleasure?” As I prefer pleasure, we’ll start with the positive aspects of this film. Though her role is small, it’s great to see Kirsty again, and the direction her character takes, while very dark, is also entirely consistent with her actions in the first two movies, particularly her penchant to bargain. She’s a survivor who’s not above sacrificing a scumbag to save her own skin, and the skin of her loved ones. Truly, the film could have used more of her.

Likewise, Pinhead is neither the windbag bore speechifying solely about pain nor is he an agent for divine justice. He treats the main character Trevor as a character study – a curious plaything – and his intentions are purely business. The movie does not attempt to point its finger at the audience for our transgressions, but instead tries to show metaphorically that the potential for the sublime or the suffering or the noble or the cruel are within us in equal measure, and it’s up to us to balance these aspects. Those souls who fall victim to the Cenobites do so seemingly not because their sins damned them, though they may be morally bankrupt, but because they ran afoul of a very human vendetta.

These aspects work… mostly. Now for the pain. Like the last film, this one takes way too many notes from the excellent Jacob’s Ladder (1990). Trevor loses part of his memory after his car goes into a river, his wife Kirsty now missing, and hallucinations, dreams, and fragmented memories constantly intrude on his mind in a surreal manner. Yet Jacob’s Ladder knew when to stop. There are so many of these sequences that by the first act I knew that each time a moment of horror came on screen it would be revealed to be a delusion. You know the old horror trope of the horrible event that turns out to be a nightmarish dream sequence, the character sitting up in bed in a cold sweat? If you’re tired of those, imagine an entire film of it. The writers lean on this technique like a crutch – when they seemingly don’t know how to end a scene, they have Trevor grab his head in pain and forcibly transfer him to the next one. In addition, these transitions are so frequent and awkward that we have no sense of how much time is supposed to be passing. The twist ending partly explains this, but it makes it no less frustrating to watch.

Speaking of Trevor, all of this is not helped by Dean Winters’ flat performance. As a character who is a partial amnesiac, when he talks to people it’s difficult to tell what is supposed to be being conveyed to the audience: Does he remember this person? Does he remember sleeping with this person? Does he remember his lines? It was a performance I was unable to connect with, especially as his reactions to the endless hallucinations are so subdued – if he doesn’t seem to care, why should we?

There are also plot elements that don’t add up and in order to present them here spoilers will be found in this paragraph. For those wishing to avoid them, skip to the next one. Firstly, did Kirsty and Trevor live together in that shabby apartment? It looks like a bachelor pad and considering how women just show up to get boned, I have to wonder if this married couple ever lived under the same roof. The second plot problem lies in Kirsty’s bargain with Pinhead, which is to bring him five souls in exchange for her own. How is she bringing them to him? She may kill them but if they don’t open the Lament Configuration can Pinhead still claim them? It makes no sense that she could collect these souls for Pinhead simply by shooting people in the head without tricking them into opening the puzzle box, thereby rightfully making them the property of the Cenobites. The deal between Kirsty and Pinhead is a twist I actually really like but it simply does not hold up to any amount of scrutiny.

Thematically, I like Hellseeker, and I love seeing Kirsty again and following her along on her character arc. Nevertheless, it is a jumbled, frustrating movie and the plot doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. It’s an improvement from Inferno in spirit only.

Grade: D+

March 3, 2016 1

Movie Review – Dark Touch (2013)

**Movie Review – Dark Touch (2013)**

Dark Touch (2013) is an Irish film that deals with the heavy issue of child abuse and its harmful, often irrevocable effects. Written and directed by Marina de Van, the film follows eleven-year-old Niamh (Missy Keating) who has been systematically sexually abused by her parents, and one day the house appears to turn against them and kill them. Niamh goes to live with neighbors and finds that her emotional instability is linked to the paranormal violence of furniture and fixtures attacking people, made worse by her inability to read people’s often benevolent gestures toward her due to her past experiences. The film does a fine job, helped by Keating’s performance, of placing the viewer in Niamh’s perspective as she misinterprets the actions of those around her to their eventual detriment.

The film is strongest in its quieter, character-driven moments, but loses much of its power when it tries to handle horror. The subject of abuse can at times be heavy handed, such as when Niamh witnesses the abuse of two classmates by their mother and decides to intercede. Even after furniture has attacked the woman she immediately proceeds with beating her kids, and when the house goes haywire she lashes out at them more. At some point even a child abuser would look to alternative explanations or at least take a break from their attacking to figure out why inanimate objects are moving across the room at them.

In the final twenty minutes the film makes an awkward turn, opting for simplistic horror clichés over a more nuanced, psychologically convincing examination of Niamh’s journey. We get shock instead of ideas and the resolution feels forced and rushed as key characters fall by the wayside – one even disappears entirely and inexplicably. We’re left with plotlines which are either unresolved or rendered moot. Niamh’s inability to discern reality from her slanted perspective finally overcomes her at a birthday party, releasing her tenuous grasp on the real world; nevertheless, though a precedent has been set the transition feels sudden, unjustified, and unsatisfactory. If Niamh feels like Carrie White, prepubescent, Dark Touch feels like Carrie (1976), under-cooked.

Grade: D+

March 1, 2016 0

Movie Review – Satan’s Cheerleaders (1977)

**Movie Review – Satan’s Cheerleaders (1977)**

Debbie: Hey, what’s the matter with Patti?

Sharon: Nothing. She’s thinking.

Debbie: Why would anyone want to do that?

Oy vey.

Assuming you haven’t already seen this film, indulge me in a little mind game. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine what a film called Satan’s Cheerleaders, filmed in 1977, would be like. What did you see? I’m guessing blood, beasts, and most importantly, boobs (what Harley Poe refers to as “them sacred triple-B’s”). And why wouldn’t you? The title and era evoke the exploitation films that were still in their heyday.

What you actually get in Satan’s Cheerleaders, by low-budget director Greydon Clark, is an overabundance of cheese. Of course, a film should be judged on what it is and not on what one expected of it, but this movie doesn’t offer much, unless you count bad (even for) disco music and languid pacing. In addition to the cute actresses playing the four titular cheerleaders, we have the familiar genre faces of Yvonne De Carlo who, though only twelve years had passed since The Munsters went off the air, seemed centuries away from her charismatic turn as the somehow maternally-sexy Lily Munster, and John Carradine, who at this point in his career was sadly relegated to bit cameos. Carradine, however, as the bum probably puts in the best performance, which isn’t saying much. Also appearing is Sydney Chaplin, son of Charles Chaplin, in his last film role, as a Satanist monk, and he has what amounts to the film’s only successful intentionally humorous lines:

The Sheriff: That damn woman!

Monk: Yes, I know what you mean.

The Sheriff: What, you? You’re a monk!

Monk: Well, I’m very well read… and I dream.

[smiles]

Monk: I dream a lot.

Satan’s Cheerleaders is a lukewarm bit of low-budget comedy-horror that takes its plot cues from exploitation films but forgets to put in the actual exploitation, save for a brief bit of partial nudity. It becomes like watching a porno with the sex cut out, and all you’re left with is the awkward dialogue, stilted delivery, and unfunny sex jokes which remain – you know, the stuff you fast-forward through. If I had had any sense, I would have fast-forwarded through much of this film too.

Grade: D-

February 29, 2016 0

Movie Review – Stake Land (2010)

**Movie Review – Stake Land (2010)**

Borrowing heavily from the zombie apocalypse movies that came before, 2010’s Stake Land substitutes mindless zombies for nearly as mindless feral vampires. Displaced former citizens of a defunct United States wander the dangerous landscape, avoiding bloodsuckers at night and a fanatical portion of mankind during daylight. Taking a note from George A. Romero, the vampires are dangerous but they’re more of a backdrop – it’s the human drama that moves the story. The script, written and directed by Jim Mickle and co-written by Nick Damici, who stars as Mister, attempts to focus more on the characters and their relationships.

The soundtrack for the film consists of classic Americana, from gospel to bluegrass. The music and much of the fashion evokes images from the Great Depression, particularly migrant workers, hungry and haggard, pulling together in shanty towns. Boarded-up businesses blight the streets and people often eat from salvaged canned goods. The story owes as much to John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath (1939), with its “Okies” in search of work in California mirroring Stake Land’s inhabitants’ search for New Eden, as much as it does the plague-like vampire apocalypse of Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend (1954).

Stake Land summons the early twentieth century in other ways, notably in its depiction of race relations. Large areas have been taken over by a zealous cult known as The Brotherhood, which has adopted an Aryan form of vengeful Christianity. Crosses burn and the populace is terrorized. Additionally, a great deal of inspiration appears to have been taken from current Middle Eastern strife, where theocracies use religion as a weapon of oppression and terrorism. As Martin, our young narrator, laments after an attack: “And it was over like that. All of the goodness shattered by some Christian crazies…” Christianity runs amok – in a world of vampires, the cross is more terrifying to the living than to the undead. Religion has poisoned people’s minds and circumvented their empathy, making them as equally dangerous as the vamps.

Filmed with mostly realistic action, Stake Land succeeds in most of the things it sets out to do. The largest weakness of the film lies in its attempt to make The Brotherhood’s leader the main villain of the film, and in doing so it requires of its audience too much suspension of disbelief as the series of coincidences that need to arise to pull it off become ludicrous. Nevertheless, Stake Land succeeds in making vampires scary and wholly unsympathetic again, and for that I salute it.

Grade: C+

February 26, 2016 0

Movie Review – Hellraiser: Inferno (2000)

**Movie Review – Hellraiser: Inferno (2000)**

Scott Derrickson’s Hellraiser: Inferno (2000) is the fifth entry in the Hellraiser franchise and the first, but certainly not the last, to be released straight to home video. The story focuses on corrupt Detective Joseph Thorne (Craig Sheffer), who snorts cocaine and cheats on his wife with hookers. While investigating a crime scene which appears to involve ritual murder, he finds the Lament Configuration and a candle with a child’s severed finger in it. It isn’t long before the conveniently puzzle-loving detective solves the box and begins to be haunted by horrific images which lead him to question his sanity. The film’s narrative and imagery borrow heavily from 1990’s effectively psychological Jacob’s Ladder. Like the Hellraiser films which follow, this script was originally disconnected with the franchise until rewrites forcibly placed, to uneven success, the Lament Configuration and Pinhead.

Clive Barker, the franchise creator, had nothing to do with the movie and was very vocal about his dislike of it. He criticized the movie, especially, for the direction in which it took the Lament Configuration and Cenobite mythology. In August of 2000 he told an interviewer: “[Hellraiser: Inferno] is terrible. It pains me to say things like that because nobody sets out in the morning to make a bad movie… They said we really don’t want your opinion on it we are going to make the movie. So they went and made the movie, and it is just an abomination. I want to actively go on record as saying I warn people away from the movie. It’s really terrible and it’s shockingly bad, and should never have been made.”

In the following month Derrickson responded: “[Clive’s] reaction, I must admit, was not entirely unexpected. The Hellraiser franchise had (in my opinion) travelled too far in one direction and had quite simply run out of steam. The only interesting path to take in creating another sequel seemed to be the path of total reinvention. Of course Clive Barker isn’t going to appreciate that. I never expected that he would appreciate seeing the treasured iconography of his brainchild tossed out the window and replaced with a whole new set of rules. But it seems to me that I made a movie that is too good or at least too provocative for him to just simply dismiss… This is, in fact, a very good film. It is philosophically ambitious (unlike Hellraiser II, III, or IV), and it represents a moral framework outside that of the previous Hellraiser films and (apparently) outside that of Clive Barker’s personal taste. Quite simply, I subverted Clive Barker’s franchise with a point of view that he does not share, and I think that really pisses him off.”

To be honest, I had no knowledge of this feud prior to watching the film, but when it was complete I felt compelled to look into how Barker felt about the changes that were made to the Hellraiser mythos, and I found that his sentiments very much mirrored my own. In the first two films the Cenobites and Hell existed but we so no evidence of Heaven. Hell wasn’t a place to punish the wicked, but was a realm where people’s own desires and fears created a torturous prison perfectly suited to themselves. The Cenobites weren’t purposefully cruel, but were unable to distinguish pleasure from pain – it was the extremes of experience which they sought and in which they dealt. Concepts such as sin were irrelevant – there were only sensations in their varying forms. Pinhead’s God was the Leviathan, “God of flesh, hunger, and desire.”

In the next two films Pinhead took center-stage and was in turns defiant or dismissive of God and Christianity. He seemingly forgot about temptation and became obsessed with inflicting pain, and everyone appeared deserving of his particular talents. He mocked Christ’s passion and asked, “Do I look like someone who cares what God thinks?”

In Hellraiser: Inferno, the answer to the question above is a definite affirmative. At the heart of the problem is Derrickson’s and co-writer Paul Harris Boardman’s view of the Cenobites, which Derrickson describes as more philosophical but is more accurately categorized as theological. He shoe-horns Pinhead into the script and changes him yet again, making him into an agent of Hell whose seeming duty is to punish sinners. The Cenobites are here to inflict psychological torture on those who do not meet certain spiritual standards, and we must therefore assume their God is no longer Leviathan. Pinhead tells our protagonist that he is deserving of his punishment because “Your flesh is killing your spirit.” Thorne neglects his family and bangs hookers, and apparently choosing physical pleasure over maintaining personal relationships is cause for eternal damnation – harsh. Anyone else feeling preached at? The Cenobites have gone from being “explorers… in the further regions of experience” to enforcers of a God who deems sensual experience as sinful. This to me is not “philosophically ambitious” as Derrickson characterizes it, but rather conservatively backward-looking and not nearly as relevant to our modern culture as the first two films’ focus on desensitization in an era of immediate gratification. In 2002 Derrickson said of Inferno: “I wanted to make a movie about sin and damnation that ended with sin and damnation.” From the start, then, he missed the point of what made Hellraiser resonate with its modern audience, and makes it endure still.

The song which closes the movie clued me in to the director’s vision, whether intentionally or not. Called “From Eden,” it ends with the refrain, “We’re livin’ in the best of all possible worlds.” Derrickson studied theology, and I have to believe that this song was not an arbitrary selection. These lines evoke the famous argument of the philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz’s theodicy, which states, essentially, that because God is good and omnipotent and created all things, that all of creation must be good – the best of all possibilities, in fact – and that evil and suffering are therefore part of God’s plan and could not be removed or altered without diminishing His creation. You pull on one evil thread, the whole fabric unravels. This idea of course rests on too many assumptions and was lampooned by critics, sometimes inaccurately but not unjustifiably, and most famously by Voltaire in his still entertaining novella Candide, published in 1759. At the risk of looking too deeply into this connection, it sums up perfectly Pinhead’s place in the new Hellraiser mythos. He is no longer separate from or rebelling against the divine, as in previous films, but is now an agent of that divine plan, doling out righteous retribution to those who would hold the worldly over the spiritual. The problem of evil (Pinhead), in Derrickson’s Christianized account, thanks to Leibniz, is now solved.

This is all too moralizing for me, and that’s the similar reaction I had to another Derrickson film, 2005’s The Exorcism of Emily Rose. What he attempts to pass as thought-provoking comes off as preachy and tired to me. There are some things that Inferno does right. The Cenobites are creepy and many of the effects are well done, with few exceptions. Some scenes, such as those involving blood soaking through bedsheets, provide memorably set-pieces.

However, the first half of the film feels like it was filmed about a decade earlier and the main character, who is supposed to be fairly unlikable, is difficult to connect with or care about. The final twenty minutes, despite being visually interesting, did not move the plot along and quickly began to try my patience, especially after the umpteenth time I heard the little girl’s disembodied voice yell, “Help me!” It all culminates in a non-surprise and a major plot hole – without giving spoilers, ask yourself after watching it, given Pinhead’s revelation, whose finger was in the candle before he found the Lament Configuration? Lastly, there is the problem with the puzzle box itself. Without the theme of desire used so effectively in past films, one has to wonder what the point of the Lament Configuration is. If there is no longer the possibility for pleasure or power, why would anyone try to solve it if it’s only purpose is to summon demons to drag you to Hell? Ultimately, I find Derrickson a stronger director than screenwriter, and in this debate I have to side with Barker. Derrickson indeed changed the rules, and diminished the already weakened franchise in the process.

Grade: D

Source: http://www.clivebarker.info/hellraiser5.html

February 19, 2016 2

Movie Review – Fido (2006)

**Movie Review – Fido (2006)**

“Another Pleasant Valley Sunday
Here in status symbol land
Mothers complain about how hard life is
And the kids just don’t understand”

– “Pleasant Valley Sunday” (1967) by The Monkees

Fido (2006), directed by Andrew Currie and written by Currie, Robert Chomiak, and Dennis Heaton, is a Canadian satire which mixes George Romero’s zombie motifs, Lassie, and 1950s American sitcom television tropes.

The film takes place in an alternative universe where the “Zombie War” has wiped out most of the population and people now live in 1950s-esque communities run by a corporation called Zomcon, who monitor, enforce, and expel undesirables (undead or not). The community is enclosed in a Zomcon fence and beyond is the zombie-infested wilds. Some zombies have been caught and domesticated through the use of collars that inhibit their devouring impulse, making them fit for manual labor and menial tasks. One such zombie, played by Scottish comedian Billy Connolly, is dubbed Fido by his boy owner and bonds with him in a manner typical of “a boy and his dog” films, and we get tongue-in-cheek scenes of them roaming through open fields with the kid yelling, “Come here, boy!” and trying to play fetch with him.

The strong cast, particularly Carrie-Anne Moss and Dylan Baker who play the boy’s parents, Helen and Bill Robinson, are great, mixing complex character emotions with impeccable comedic timing. Their character arcs are the real heart of the film and they embody them perfectly. Connolly gives Fido just enough cognizance to make him sympathetic, no doubt garnering inspiration from Day of the Dead’s (1985) Bub. Henry Czerny provides a charmingly conservative menace as the Zomcon security chief Jonathan Bottoms. However, it is the Robinsons’ neighbor Mr. Theopolis (Tim Blake Nelson) and his zombie girlfriend Tammy who threaten to steal the show in the end.

Overall, he characters kill with a developed casualness, the kids practicing their shooting during recess while singing the mantra: “In the brain and not the chest. Head shots are the very best.” The juxtaposition between the supposedly idyllic and the gory is hilarious. Much of the humor comes from 1950s television call-backs including the I Love Lucy’s his-and-hers beds, the invocation of Lassie with the boy being named Timmy, and the use of rear-screen projections to add scenery while the characters are driving. Instead of Life magazine they read Death, and we get the schlocky sensationalism of educational videos of the time.

However, the film calls back that era in theme as well. The culture is defined by its commodities and consumerism, and neighbors are judged by the numbers of zombies they own. Appearance is everything and suppression of various kinds is a well-honed skill. When a zombie outbreak threatens, Mr. Bottom tells Bill that “These little problems are all about containment.” This was, of course, America’s Cold War policy, and like the zombies and undesirables in Fido that must be eradicated for the betterment of society, McCarthyism and Red paranoia sought to eliminate their ideological enemies from within. In the 1950s artists, especially Hollywood filmmakers, were blacklisted; in Fido, undesirable families are exiled into the wilds. Conform… or else. This goes with sexual politics as well. Helen is expected and willing to play the dutiful housewife to her aloof and insecure husband who fears intimacy, but gradually finds her own strength and independence while he reexamines his efforts as a husband and father.

However, these 1950s trappings are merely a smokescreen to satirize the American policies of the mid-2000s. As Currie told Rotten Tomatoes in 2007, “On a deeper level, [Fido is] also about homeland security. Mr. Bottoms comes in at the start, they’re building the fences higher, there are security vehicles on every street and ‘We’re gonna take everybody’s picture just in case one of you gets lost.’ That idea of playing with a corporation that’s also the government, Zomcon, and how they push fear as a way of controlling the masses.” Xenophobia reigns supreme and we even see reflections of the immigration debate as zombies are collared and relegated to the tasks that no other characters – all of whom are white – want to do.

The overall theme, though, is not as strictly political, and it is that love is a far better basis for humanity than fear. Fido is light on horror but heavy on charm, and it is a film that uses satire and gore to say something about the world in which we live, and the world in which we want to live.

Grade: B

February 18, 2016 0

Movie Review – Hellraiser IV: Bloodline (1996)

**Movie Review – Hellraiser IV: Bloodline (1996)**

Released in 1996, Hellraiser IV: Bloodline is the fourth installment and the last of the Hellraiser franchise to be released in theaters, and it is the last to have involvement from Clive Barker, who served as executive producer. Directed by Alan Smithee… oh shit, wait, that can’t be good. For those familiar with Hollywood lingo, Alan Smithee is the pseudonym directors use when they wish to have their names disassociated with a project. This immediately raises red flags that warn that the road ahead is likely to be treacherous. Primarily directed by Kevin Yagher, known for his special effects work on such iconic monsters as Freddy Krueger, the Crypt Keeper and Chucky, until he found out that Dimension Films was re-editing the movie behind his back. Yagher wanted to tell Peter Atkins’ story, which is both a prequel and a sequel to the previous films spanning centuries, in chronological order, but producers insisted on the appearance of Pinhead, which was not to happen until about half-way in, to be ever earlier in the film. Frustrated, Yagher walked out and the producers brought in Joe Chappelle to salvage the film on a limited budget. Ultimately, both Yagher and Chappelle were dissatisfied with the final feature and chose to be credited as Alan Smithee – making two directors being dissociated from the film.

The end product is indeed uneven. The wrap-around story is set on a future space station, and even the dim lighting can’t hide that the sets look cheap. By this time we’ve had Critters and Leprechaun go to space, and this can safely be seen as part of the general downward trend of 90s horror (Jason would follow soon after), as it doesn’t really add anything to the story except for exposing budget limitations. As it is, the story is often disjointed with narrative gaps, no doubt due to re-editing as entire sequences were removed to hasten Pinhead’s arrival, such as a scene in which a party of eighteenth-century aristocrats are transformed into Cenobites (never mind trying to figure out the rules of who is turned into a Cenobite and why, as the franchise doesn’t appear to know either).

The acting, too, is generally poor, with the exception being Doug Bradley’s embodiment as Pinhead. Nevertheless, Pinhead is more like the last film than the first two. No longer are the Cenobites “explorers… in the further regions of experience.” Gone are the themes of desensitization and un-fulfilled desire. In fact, Pinhead declares that “temptation is worthless… suffering is the coin of the realm.” While I enjoy seeing Pinhead, he spends most of the movie pontificating endlessly about pain to the point where he begins to become a bore.

However, with all of these festering flaws, there are some things that the film does right. While the primitive CGI looks dated even by the standards of 1996, the practical effects, particularly the gore ones, are superb, no doubt due to Kevin Yagher’s extensive experience. Also, while the execution is largely crippled, I whole-heartedly applaud the ambition and scope of the film. Indeed, the space scenes look cheap, but they look cheaper still when compared to the scenes set in eighteenth-century France. The sets here are exquisite and are filmed with the beauty of soft firelight. The skinning of the peasant girl and subsequent birth of the demon Angelique look terrific, and the powdered face and wig of the Duc de L’Isle, especially when paired with the chains and blood that would deface him, are menacing and haunting. In terms of aesthetics alone, the combination of aristocratic foppery and Coenobitic sadomasochism is an intriguing one at which even the Marquis de Sade might tremble.

We are introduced to the Enlightenment when the toymaker Philippe (Bruce Ramsay) talks of a hellish discovery to his medical friend who is casually carving up corpses. His friend says, “This is the eighteenth-century, Phillippe, not the Dark Ages. The world is ruled by reason – we’ve even got rid of God. And if there is no heaven, then it follows reasonably that there is no hell.” So much potential could have been made of just this simple statement: Is there a God? If so, what role does He play? If not, what is Hell’s purpose? Did man truly abandon God, or did He abandon us? Is there Salvation, or is life its own reward and Pinhead’s realm the only hereafter? Had this film been as thoughtful as the first two franchise entries, we may have had another script that tackled some very deep human questions.

Woe to us that we didn’t. Hellraiser IV: Bloodline is, in my opinion, still a step up from the previous film. It tries to be something more and mostly does not succeed, but there are still moments of great horror punctuated throughout. Like the light that emanates through the wall slats when the Cenobites arrive, inklings of what could have been a truly great movie shine through on occasion. Those flashes are short-lived and ultimately snuffed, but if ever there was a Hellraiser movie I’d like to see remade smartly, it is this one.

Grade: C-

February 14, 2016 3

Movie Review – Under the Skin (2013)

**Movie Review – Under the Skin (2013)**

Art-house horror films seem to divide genre fans. Their emphasis on symbolism, aesthetics, experimentation, and their unconcern for traditional narrative can frustrate viewers who are used to or reliant upon films that are more straightforward and designed for larger markets and mass appeal. Ironically, horror is rarely made for large markets or mass appeal, but many fans go to the genre for the comfort of the usual tropes. This is not a criticism, but merely an observation. 2013’s Under the Skin is exactly the kind of movie one talks about when discussing art-house horror, and it’s therefore a film that generates strong reactions from viewers, with them either loathing or loving it. Count me in the latter party.

Expertly directed by Jonathan Glazer, and based on the 2000 novel of the same name by Michel Faber, Under the Skin is an alien abduction movie like no other. The film opens with what we at first assume is a solar system aligning, only to find that it is actually the construction of an eye, all the while hearing Scarlett Johansson’s voice play over as she practices human speech. This immediately invokes themes of interplanetary travel and physical transformation, appropriately though enigmatically telling the audience the origins of our central character. Johansson plays the mysterious alien posing as a woman who drives around Glasgow, Scotland, luring unsuspecting men back to a dilapidated house where they submerge into a reflective, meniscus fluid. The purpose of these abductions is unclear, but they’re also beside the point. Instead the lens and the narrative focus on Johansson and what she sees and how she sees it, the camera at first viewing the world around her as dispassionately as she does. At one point the street scenes layer into chaos, mirroring her own inability to process what she is seeing, and we ultimately see ourselves through her objective perspective. She is aware, perhaps even trained, to understand that her body is a lure for men, yet she does not fully understand the function or potential of that body, at least not for the first half of the film.

The character arc, however, is really about awakening to human experience. The alien begins to become aware of the sensations of her new skin, both the pain and the pleasure, as well as of sympathy. At first her gaze is reserved for her male victims, seeking them out on the city streets, but then the gaze turns towards women. These women are not potential victims, but role models for the alien as she comes to gradually recognize her own femininity. Nature plays a heavily symbolic role, as we see her begin at an empty industrial zone and enter the city, yet as she becomes conscious of a growing humanity she moves to the suburbs and then to the dense forests – that is, closer to the natural world.

Other themes float through the film. For a change we follow what amounts to a female serial killer prowling for male victims, placing men in the position usually reserved both in fiction and actuality for women. The men she meets have no concern for their own safety, revealing a patriarchal culture in which men have nothing to fear from women; though, as the film shows, women have much to fear from men.

Under the Skin lives up to its name. Though it’s a quiet film that’s patiently paced, it manages to be wholly unnerving by hitting the viewer in emotional places that horror often attempts but rarely succeeds in capturing. As a father of a young son, the scene of the toddler crying on the beach, struggling to stand as the alien walks by him as unemotionally as the approaching waves, haunts me. Likewise, the void in which the male victims are suspended nude as if in a womb, looking at each other with a seeming curious apathy, is disturbing. The viewer can hear the clicks of eyelids shutting as though we were floating with them, airless. And the climax of the scene, when we see what becomes of these men, is both horrifying and mesmerizingly beautiful. It pokes at our fears of being used and discarded, which is once again usually a theme reserved for female victims.

The narrative of the film is not an obvious one, as the importance of scenes is often not apparent until several more have passed. The filmmaking process, too, is nontraditional. Many scenes, including those in the nightclub and shopping center, were filmed covertly so as to capture some authenticity. The men who are lured by Johansson are unaware of the cameras, allowing them to act naturally. Despite these hidden cameras the gorgeous cinematography is never compromised. The special effects, which are mostly done in camera, are visually stunning. Input was also added from significant cast members to gain realism, particularly with regard to a victim played by Adam Pearson, who has neurofibromatosis, as he told the director what things Johansson might do to effectively seduce him.

As mentioned above with the audio of the void, the sound design and score add another layer of discomfort. The score itself sounds alien at times, the noises invoking natural forces or contrasted with the synthetic sounds of synths or changing radio frequencies. We are thus reminded of alien technology and our central character’s own artificiality, as well as the natural impulses which are making their presence known upon her.

Lastly, a word must be said about Scarlett Johansson, upon whom the film by necessity rests. She gives either a great performance, or an equally and appropriately great nonperformance – I’m still not sure which. Either way, it’s a difficult and brave role and she is up to the task entirely. This film marks Johansson’s first full frontal nude scene, and it says something to the film’s power and to her performance that her exquisite body did not distract me – a red-blooded heterosexual male who has certainly admired her form often in the past – from the symbolism and importance of the moment. Indeed, it perhaps speaks to the strength of the film that a famous sex symbol’s nude scene attracted such little fanfare, as the scene, in the context of the film, is less sexy than it is contemplative.

Under the Skin is the kind of film that excites me as a horror fan. It invokes the best of David Lynch and Lars von Trier and it goes to places artistically where the genre rarely treads, revealing whole new potentials for future filmmakers. As an art-house horror it’s not for everyone, but it’s an experience I’d gladly crawl beneath the surface of again.

Grade: A-

February 12, 2016 0

Movie Review – Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth (1992)

**Movie Review – Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth (1992)**

Hellraiser (1987) and Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988) were fantastical landmarks in horror. Together they created a dark, unique atmosphere weaved around a hellish mythos that explored mature, complex themes. They gave us new horror icons in the form of leather-wrapped Cenobites, most notably the frightening figure of Pinhead, who were summoned and controlled by a mysterious puzzle-box, giving the illusion of a nightmarish, macabre fairytale. They are admittedly large footprints in which to follow, and unfortunately 1992’s Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth, directed by Anthony Hickox, stumbles with nearly every step.

Instead of a script in which the Cenobites are a supporting cast, the film unfolds as a lackluster showcase for the popular Pinhead, and the mortals that fill the space around him are flat and uninteresting. Had Pinhead been well-written, this could have been forgiven, but his extensive dialogue (compared to the first two films) amounts to one-liners in the ilk of Freddy Krueger, in the end making Pinhead less of an ominous presence and more of a farcical showman. This becomes apparent in an unnecessary church scene in which Pinhead drags out a blasphemous passion parody that feels too gratuitous to be effective.

Instead of an unsettling atmosphere and macabre wit this production seeks to please a younger audience with gratuitous violence (some well-done, most not so much), a high body count, attractive women, as little thinking as possible, and some shallow displays of heavy metal culture. This may be acceptable fare for your middling horror entertainment, but the Hellraiser franchise already established higher standards. The storyline awkwardly attempts to connect to the other films, however, in doing so it manages to change their rules and precedents, and even the puzzle-box seems like an afterthought. Tension and dread are lost to mindless spectacle, especially as we are given no reason to care about the underdeveloped protagonists (particularly Terri, who had the most potential for depth).

Perhaps the biggest crime, though, is Pinhead’s new Cenobites, which include one that shoots seemingly razor-sharp CDs and a former camera man that has a deadly punching lens protruding from his eye-socket. While I understand these are supposed to be minions Pinhead has haphazardly assembled, the result is beyond ridiculous and the audience will be too busy laughing at these wisecracking Borg knock-offs to care about what happens next. (Speaking of Borgs, this film marks the second time a Star Trek: Deep Space Nine actor has appeared in a prominent role in a Hellraiser film, the first being Andrew J. Robinson and now Terry Farrell.)

Even without the weight of its predecessors, Hellraiser III cannot stand. It’s too heavily saddled with poor dialogue, weak plotting, thin characterizations, and some conspicuously bad performances. It’s all thoughtless spectacle directed toward what it believed the MTV crowd wanted, which is a shame when one considers the mature ambitions of the first two. Doug Bradley’s obvious joy at playing Pinhead is reason enough that the franchise deserves better.

Grade: D-

February 11, 2016 2

Movie Review – The Nightmare (2015)

**Movie Review – The Nightmare (2015)**

It begins just as you close your eyes to sleep. A vibration, like an electrical current, goes through your body. Then they come. Sometimes you feel their presence behind you. Sometimes you see them, their slender, shadowy forms returning your gaze. You try to scream but are speechless. You try to move but your limbs won’t respond to your silent commands.

This is a common experience in those who experience sleep paralysis, or so says the documentary The Nightmare (2015) directed by Rodney Ascher. Ascher interviews people who claim to experience the phenomena, allowing them to disclose their own personal views on the subject matter, and uses a horror pastiche to dramatize their terrifying experiences. This technique follows in the successful footsteps of shows like Unsolved Mysteries or the paranormal anthology television series A Haunting, where eyewitness accounts are dramatized. Some of what Ascher shows us is truly creepy, and the interviews are filmed in dim lighting as though the shadows are always encroaching.

Ascher’s previous horror-related documentary was the popular Room 237 (2012), where he interviewed and showcased various people’s perceived meanings and theories associated with Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece, The Shining (1980). His approach was similar in that film, putting an unbiased lens on people and allowing them to deliver their views. However, despite the generally favorable reviews I read for the film, I quickly grew impatient with it. For every interesting theory there were several others that were obvious rubbish. By not discerning between the wheat and chaff, what ideas might be valid are belittled and overshadowed by nonsense. It becomes the viewer’s duty to curate the material, and there isn’t enough in the film’s presentation to inspire me to do so.

The Nightmare suffers from the same fate, though because it deals with a diagnosable condition its refusal to consult or give voice to the scientific and medical community is ultimately irresponsible. Ascher allows people from different backgrounds to give their interpretations of the shadow men, and these range from demonic to scientifically feasible. However, he gives greater attention to the supernatural theories, giving indication that these shadow men are somehow real and tormenting their victims rather than archetypal constructs of a relatable human consciousness. As he did in Room 237, reasonable explanations are once again buried in the accounts of people whose judgements are clearly suspect – some stories just sound like disturbing lucid dreams – or people who may be suffering from significant psychological conditions. For instance, a great deal of time is devoted to one man’s recollections of static men, who he suggests are aliens, even though his experiences don’t really fit in the mold of sleep paralysis. The static men, also, unlike the shadow men, look like people in goofy costumes. Whatever tension is created in the reenactments is lost when we return to these stories, or else it is due to Ascher’s tendency to switch narrators so often that not enough time is allowed to build atmosphere.

I acknowledge that these images may be very frightening for those who have experienced them, but about half-way through The Nightmare I began looking idly at my phone. The film quickly became repetitive and the minutes dragged towards an unsure destination. For a documentary that deals with the fear of going to sleep, my wife had no problem nodding off and sleeping soundly beside me before the movie ended even though she’s generally sensitive to horror. Rather than wake her, as I usually do, I envied her and let her snooze. When she awoke, she wasn’t even interested in what she had missed. She asked me what I thought of it. I shrugged my tired shoulders and replied, “Eh.” We then went up to bed and slept deeply.

Grade: D

February 10, 2016 1

Movie Review – Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988)

**Movie Review – Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988)**

Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988), the sequel to 1987’s Hellraiser, is the perfect companion piece to the previous film. I cannot watch the first without immediately wanting to watch the second, and in many ways the two feel like segmented parts of a single feature. Taking place immediately after events of the first film, the plot follows Kirsty (Ashley Laurence) as she tries to use the Lament Configuration, a demonic puzzle box, to open a portal to Hell to retrieve her father, who she believes is suffering there. With her is a fellow hospital patient and mute teenage girl named Tiffany (Imogen Boorman) who has a knack for solving puzzles and whose talent has been exploited by Dr. Channard (Kenneth Cranham), who himself is trying to solve the box to seek the legendary experiences of the Cenobites. Channard resurrects Julia (Clare Higgins), seeking her help, and all four end up descending into the regions of Hell.

Directed by Tony Randel, with a screenplay by Peter Atkins based upon a story by Clive Barker, Hellbound plays far more like a horror fantasy. In fact, as Kirsty is running through the mazes of Hell, which looks very much inspired by an M.C. Escher drawing, in search of her father, I can’t help but be reminded of Sarah running through the Goblin King’s realm in search of her brother in 1986’s Labyrinth. This bend towards storybook fantasy is even admitted by the characters when Julia tells Kirsty, “They didn’t tell you, did they? They’ve changed the rules of the fairy tale. I’m no longer just the wicked stepmother. Now I’m the evil queen. So come on!” and then, “Take your best shot, Snow White!” This allows the more unbelievable plot twists to be more acceptable if viewers see them through this fantastical, almost dreamlike lens.

The themes of excess, desensitization, and desire from the first film remain strong, with the turning Leviathan in the center of Hell’s maze being referred to by Julia as “God of flesh, hunger, and desire.” Of the puzzle box, Pinhead says, “It is not hands that summon us. It is desire.” Hell is of one’s own making, taking the forms that the individual’s mind creates. As Channard tells his students while he performs brain surgery:

“The mind is a labyrinth, ladies and gentlemen, a puzzle. And while the paths of the brain are plainly visible, its ways deceptively apparent, its destinations are unknown. Its secrets still secret. And, if we are honest, it is the lure of the labyrinth that draws us to our chosen field to unlock those secrets. Others have been here before us and have left us signs, but we, as explorers of the mind, must devote our lives and energies to going further to tread the unknown corridors in order to find ultimately, the final solution. We have to see, we have to know…”

For Frank, Kirsty’s villainous uncle from the first film, Hell is nude women writhing, whimpering and moaning with desire, begging to be touched but always unreachable. Even in Hell there is no satisfaction, and that is the worst torture.

Hellbound is rich with imaginative filmmaking and impressive gore. Julia’s rebirth through the bloodstained mattress, in particular, is masterful. However, its style outweighs its attempt at character development, with Julia being the only character with any real nuance. Really, the Cenobites are awesome to behold but this is ultimately her movie, as Barker had originally intended Pinhead to end here and Julia to step up as the main franchise villain. However, Clare Higgins was uninterested in reprising her role in further films, which is actually a shame as her character’s progression was the most interesting arc through both entries.

Though I know many disagree with me, I prefer this installment to the first film, if only by a small measure. Its style has always spoken to me and the audacity of its dark reverie has continuously drawn me in. When I think of the franchise, this film and its images are what are conjured in my mind. It’s nightmarish and attractive all at once, as a movie with Hellraiser’s themes should be.

Grade: B

February 9, 2016 4

Movie Review – Class of Nuke ‘Em High (1986)

**Movie Review – Class of Nuke ‘Em High (1986)**

1986’s Class of Nuke ‘Em High, directed by Richard W. Haines and Lloyd Kaufman (as Samuel Weil), is yet another Troma Entertainment release – the first in-house production after 1984’s The Toxic Avenger – that has since become a cult classic. While Nuke ‘Em shares many trash and exploitation qualities with Toxic, it is in many ways a more polished, mainstream film. The absurdist antics revolve around a fairly typical teen sex-comedy as the virginal couple of Chrissy and Warren begin to flirt with drug use and sex – with dire consequences. Though the dangers of nuclear waste and corrupt corporatism play a part (tropes present in Toxic and which would at least in part come to define Troma), the film is more about teen experimentation and telling very timely jokes about the punk scene, which by this time had largely lost its edge. Ironically, however, in a post-Columbine era, the scenes of school violence perhaps make Nuke ‘Em a more subversive film than it was at the time of its release.

Nuke ‘Em is replete with charmingly bad jokes, plot-lines that often go nowhere, and a surprising amount of impressive body horror effects. Editing, too, is impressive, particularly in the end sequence where a spectacular looking monster is killing off invading punks. The creature was not completely formed and clever camera angles and rapid editing cuts make the thing feel far more whole and threatening than it otherwise would. For all the trappings of trash movies that Troma indulges in, Nuke ‘Em reveals that some fairly talented and calculating filmmakers were actually at the helm.

Personally, I prefer the ridiculous extremes of Toxic and how it continually defies viewer expectations. Nuke ‘Em feels more mainstream, albeit barely, as it follows more comfortable plot lines and uses its exploitation aspects more sparingly, yet for this reason it’s perhaps the best choice to introduce new viewers to Troma. For some fans, this is Troma’s best movie in terms of filmmaking, though it manages to keep its humor and visual style very much in the wheelhouse of other Troma offerings.

Grade: C

February 8, 2016 0

Movie Review – Hellraiser (1987)

**Movie Review – Hellraiser (1987)**

Something has to change.
Undeniable dilemma.
Boredom’s not a burden
Anyone should bear.

Constant over stimulation numbs me
But I would not want you
Any other way.

Clive Barker’s Hellraiser (1987) is the onscreen adaptation of his own novella, The Hellbound Heart. Being dissatisfied with the way other directors had handled his material, Barker decided to try his own hand at bringing his vision to the screen. As a kid in the late 1980s the Hellraiser series held a particular fascination with me. I was vaguely aware of the Cenobites and especially of Pinhead, and the rotating wooden posts, creaking and knocking, covered with gruesome, gory flesh like Satan’s own art show, in many ways signified in my mind the epitome of horror. Its strong overtones of torture and sexuality were not lost upon me, and that it dealt directly with Hell only added to its horrific credentials. When I finally saw the film at some point, probably as a teenager, I recall being largely impressed, especially with the effects. Yet at the same time, something didn’t sit right with me.

It’s not enough.
I need more.
Nothing seems to satisfy.
I said
I don’t want it.
I just need it.
To breathe, to feel, to know I’m alive.

Finger deep within the borderline.
Show me that you love me and that we belong together.
Relax, turn around and take my hand.

I normally don’t bother with recaps other than a line or two about the plot, but discussion of films such as this require a more detailed basis from which to begin. The story tells of Larry Cotton (Andrew Robinson) who moves into his childhood home with this wife, Julia (Clare Higgins). Larry finds signs that his hedonistic ne’er-do-well brother, Frank (Sean Chapman/Oliver Smith), has recently been squatting there. Larry’s daughter, Kirsty (Ashley Laurence), has an apartment nearby but her strained relationship with her step-mother keeps her at bay. Enter into all of this a mysterious puzzle box which opens a portal to Hell (or at least a pocket dimension very much like it) which Frank had used in the hope of receiving experiences like no other. He had grown too desensitized through his debauchery to what the world had to offer and needed more, searching in the box for a door to unknown carnal pleasures, unaware of the Cenobites lurking within and their methods of torture which awaited him as they pulled him into their realm. Some spilled blood inadvertently brings Frank back from the dead, helped along by Julia, with whom he had had an affair and who still bears a torch for him. Like him, she is bored with her life and wants to rekindle the physical pleasures she felt with him, and she sets out to lure unsuspecting men back to him where they can be brutally dispatched and bled to feed Frank with ever more life-giving blood. However, if the Cenobites discover his whereabouts, Frank is a goner.

I can help you change
Tired moments into pleasure.
Say the word and we’ll be
Well upon our way.

Blend and balance
Pain and comfort
Deep within you
Till you will not want me any other way.

Barker updates Hell with a contemporary vision that adopts the pastiche of sadomasochism, complete with black leather and jangling chains. Sexual overtones are apparent in the Cenobites, such as the female one whose neck is pulled open like a gaping vagina. At the height of the AIDS crisis sex has become something to be feared as much as to be desired. The Cenobites operate in extremes – suffering and sexual satisfactions are indiscernible to them. The lead Cenobite, who in subsequent films will be named Pinhead, played expertly by Doug Bradley, refers to himself and his cadre as “Explorers… in the further regions of experience. Demons to some, angels to others.” In this world Hell is real, but heaven appears nothing more than a happy fiction.

It’s not enough.
I need more.
Nothing seems to satisfy.
I said
I don’t want it.
I just need it.
To breathe, to feel, to know I’m alive.

Knuckle deep inside the borderline.
This may hurt a little but it’s something you’ll get used to.
Relax. Slip away.

In an age of excess, where sensory overload and immediate gratification are cultural norms, people come to want ever more in order to feel. In Barker’s dark world people don’t have to be sent to Hell, as Hell can patiently wait for its victims to willingly come to it. The puzzle box, though it’s unclear how it actually works, is an ingenious narrative mechanism for puzzles inherently represent an insatiable curiosity. Dissatisfied with reality, people will court damnation in order to overcome their dumbness, but they get more than they bargained for. As Frank tells Julia, “I thought I’d gone to the limits. I hadn’t. The Cenobites gave me an experience beyond limits… pain and pleasure, indivisible.” In a way, the Cenobites are like naïve children playing with a fragile kitten, unable to distinguish in its cries play from torture.

Something kinda sad about
The way that things have come to be.
Desensitized to everything.
What became of subtlety?

How can it mean anything to me
If I really don’t feel anything at all?

Hellraiser deals with deep adult themes in an extraordinarily fantastical way. This, to me, is where the film’s true strengths lie. Helped along by some stellar practical effects, and hindered at times by some poor ones, Barker creates a visceral world that the viewer can practically smell. However, this is partly where the problem rests with me, and what sat uneasily with me when I first watched it all those years ago. The film is, to put it bluntly, ugly (and I’m not just talking about Julia’s very timely fashion sense). The sets are perpetually filthy and we see the actors, all of whom are quite good, interact with it as though it wasn’t covered with grime, including leaning their white clothes against dirty doors or bearing a willingness to fornicate beside rat-infested muck. Are we to find beauty in this ugliness? Have the characters grown so desensitized to the world that they no longer recognize the repulsively unhygienic? I don’t think so. Rather, it seems to me to be the likely result of a limited budget and few sets. Additionally, for me at least, something about the pacing of the film never sits right with me. It feels longer than it is.

I’ll keep digging
Till I feel something.

My respect for Hellraiser runs deeper than my enjoyment in watching it, and I find that difficult to admit. I entirely understand those who consider this a masterpiece, but I feel that the merits of the film are found more in its themes, and in the rather briefly shown Cenobites, than in the actual filmmaking. Barker’s directorial debut is strong, but it feels like a film that might have been much stronger had more time, money, and experience allowed.

Elbow deep inside the borderline.
Show me that you love me and that we belong together.
Shoulder deep within the borderline.
Relax. Turn around and take my hand.

– “Stinkfist” (1996) by Tool

Grade: B-

February 7, 2016 10

DADDY DREADFUL – The Munsters (1964-1966)

This review is part of the Daddy Dreadful review series.

**Daddy Dreadful Review – The Munsters (1964-1966)**

Monsters, especially popular ones, go through curious phases. When they first appear they terrify audiences, and then as their exposure increases they become more farcical. Finally, they become kid’s toys. In my own lifetime I witnessed the phenomenon of Freddy Kruger go through these stages, from being a serious slasher villain – a child murderer (and suggested molester), in fact – to a humorous trickster and finally to being on kids’ lunch boxes at my elementary school.

Half a century before Freddy, as the nation reeled from an economic depression, Universal unleashed their monsters on the American public, terrifying unsuspecting viewers. A decade later the comedic duo Abbott and Costello were sharing the screen with them. In the 1950s teenage horror schlock dominated the drive-in screens, but at home children were gathered around their televisions to watch these monsters through a new generation’s eyes. Universal sold its monster movies to television, never anticipating what a massive cultural phenomena it would generate – especially for kids.

By the early 1960s horror was largely a genre for children. Beginning in 1958 the magazine Famous Monsters of Filmland was being devoured by kids and by 1961 Aurora Model Kits was releasing monsters for youngsters to build themselves. Soon afterward the creators of Leave It to Beaver came up with an idea for a show about a family of harmless monsters trying to fit into modern American suburbia. The Munsters played on the already tired tropes of TV family sitcoms and subverted them with macabre jokes and slapstick humor. Another show with a similar horror theme, The Addams Family, aired at the same time, but whereas the Addams clan was humans who dwelled on death, the Munsters were actual living dead who never quite grasped that people found them horrific. Case in point, one of the running gags was that their niece, Marilyn, named and modeled after Marilyn Monroe, was a beautiful young woman who was nevertheless viewed by herself and her family as the unfortunate ugly duckling.

The Munsters ran from 1964 to 1966 and while it never garnered critical success it was immensely popular with kids. Even today there is much to appreciate, particularly the comedic duo of Fred Gwynn as Herman Munster and Al Lewis as Grandpa Munster, two actors who had already formed a comfortable professional relationship in Car 54, Where Are You? (1961-1963). Truly, they remain one of the great television comedy teams.

1964 was a significant year in American history. The country was turning away from the conformity of the previous decade and approaching the social unrest and generational discord that would come to define the 1960s. It was the year that The Beatles turned teenage girls ravenous, the Gulf of Tonkin became a flash-pan for Vietnam, LBJ declared a “War on Poverty” and signed the Civil Rights Act, and three civil rights workers were found to have been murdered by the Klan, causing a national uproar. The Munsters was not explicitly metaphorical, but it is surely recognized as a social commentary on the changing American landscape, at least in retrospect. After all, they were “those people” moving into the white suburban neighborhood. They were benign but misunderstood, villainized from no fault of their own. Herman sent people running scared due to his visage but in the end he was a devoted father trying to forge the best life for his family – he just happened to look different. The Munsters were the misunderstood outsiders – is it any wonder that kids latched onto them so fiercely?

This past summer watching The Munsters became a morning routine during breakfast. I wasn’t sure how my son would react to his first black and white show, but he loved it. He laughed at the physical humor and quickly learned the characters’ names. He saw something of himself in Eddie Munster, who carried around a stuffed animal the way my son carried around his Teddy. Each morning he’d ask to watch “the monsters” while we cooked and ate and my wife and I would happily oblige. I enjoyed the show’s reruns as a kid and found a lot to enjoy watching it this time around, laughing unapologetically at the admittedly terrible jokes and puns. The first few episodes are rocky but by mid-season the show has its footing. Just as in 1964, there are far worse ways for a family to enjoy each other’s company.

Recommended Age: 3+
Final Thoughts: Highly recommended. The Munsters is classic television that can still be enjoyed by the kid in all of us.

February 7, 2016 1