"Horror movies are scary, but you know what's really scary? 9/11." That's what I imagined the filmmakers behind War of the Worlds saying after I saw it in 2005. I thought that Steven Spielberg and company let a bunch of too-obvious 9/11 imagery get in the way of a really cool monster/disaster movie. Now, seven years later, the 9/11 allusions seem a lot less obvious and a lot more fascinating, which just goes to show that all that stuff about waiting to see how a movie looks years later is true after all.
But enough about 9/11! Take off your 9/11, make your 9/11 comfortable. The important thing here is that Spielberg's War of the Worlds is probably the darkest thriller he's ever made (unless you count Munich I guess), with enough dead bodies to choke a river - he's not known for the really scary stuff but when he sets out to scare there are few filmmakers out there who can top him. And he's in top form here - with some downright virtuoso sequences - my favorite is an early scene made to look like one continuous shot as the camera tracks in, out, and around a speeding van as Tom Cruise and his children inside shout and argue about the oncoming alien invasion.
Since this is late-period Spielberg though, there's going to be some lumpy pacing to go along with those virtuosic set-pieces. The extended sequence with Tim Robbins, for instance, has some fantastic special effects and suspense but it's nearly derailed by Robbins himself, who contrary to the rest of the actors in the movie seems to be going for some kind of over-the-top characterization from a different movie. I normally like Tim Robbins but his work here is pretty miscalculated.
Then there's the ending, which I guess I won't spoil but it's dumb dumb dumb. And I'm not talking about the way the aliens die - you'll know what I mean when you see it (if you haven't already). But all in all, this is a gleefully dark and suspenseful horror movie, exactly the kind of stuff I love to watch in October. And, even though I imagine this to be a controversial opinion, I think it's distinctly better than Jurassic Park.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Night of Terror #6: Mystery of the Wax Museum
First of all, I would like to apologize for not updating the site on Saturday. The only movie I had time for was Another Fine Mess, which not even I would be able to twist into Halloween-appropriate viewing (unless you just happen to be really scared of slide whistles).
But, I'm roaring back to life with Mystery of the Wax Museum, the 1933 shocker directed by Michael "Dodge City" Curtiz and that served as the inspiration for 50s horror classic House of Wax. The premise of both movies is the same: Brilliant wax sculptor who refuses to pander to the lowest common denominator with scenes of violence and horror loses his precious works due to an unscrupulous business partner. Then, years later, the sculptor (now confined to a wheelchair) opens up a new wax museum, with all the blood and guts you could hope for - but around the same time, someone is stealing bodies from the morgue...
The theme of "art vs commerce" isn't one you see in a lot of horror movies, but Mystery is a pretty satisfying riff on that very idea. Lionel Atwill adds Dr. Igor to his list of great screen villains, and he's surrounded by a supporting cast that ranges from below-average to fantastic: Glenda Farrell is especially great as a Hawksian female reporter.
But the true star of this movie is the nightmarish visual style which has elements of German Expressionism along with that particular 2-strip Technicolor voodoo you can only get during this brief period in movie history. There are some sequences, like pretty much the entire climax, that don't make any sense dramatically but make all the sense in the word nightmarishly. There are also some strong newspaper-comedy elements to the movie - some people would probably find these jarring but I sort of like them.
Also: One of the great classic Hollywood abrupt endings.
But, I'm roaring back to life with Mystery of the Wax Museum, the 1933 shocker directed by Michael "Dodge City" Curtiz and that served as the inspiration for 50s horror classic House of Wax. The premise of both movies is the same: Brilliant wax sculptor who refuses to pander to the lowest common denominator with scenes of violence and horror loses his precious works due to an unscrupulous business partner. Then, years later, the sculptor (now confined to a wheelchair) opens up a new wax museum, with all the blood and guts you could hope for - but around the same time, someone is stealing bodies from the morgue...
The theme of "art vs commerce" isn't one you see in a lot of horror movies, but Mystery is a pretty satisfying riff on that very idea. Lionel Atwill adds Dr. Igor to his list of great screen villains, and he's surrounded by a supporting cast that ranges from below-average to fantastic: Glenda Farrell is especially great as a Hawksian female reporter.
But the true star of this movie is the nightmarish visual style which has elements of German Expressionism along with that particular 2-strip Technicolor voodoo you can only get during this brief period in movie history. There are some sequences, like pretty much the entire climax, that don't make any sense dramatically but make all the sense in the word nightmarishly. There are also some strong newspaper-comedy elements to the movie - some people would probably find these jarring but I sort of like them.
Also: One of the great classic Hollywood abrupt endings.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Night of Terror #5: The Invisible Man
Nothing says "Halloween" like the Universal Monster series. So many of the iconic images we associate with Halloween were churned out by this studio between the years 1931 and 1954. One interesting/boring comparison one could make is between the monsters of early sound movies (and into the 50s) and the superhero craze of today. They were mostly based on previously popular properties (31 Articles of Alliteration dot blogspot dot biz), and they started teaming up with each other in sequels. Sorry, tangent. Universal Monsters = cool.
Sometimes when called upon to tell people my favorite Universal Monster, I cite James Whale's 1933 scifi/horror/comedy The Invisible Man. I will admit a LITTLE bit of contrarian attitude there, as this movie doesn't have anywhere near the reputation that Frankenstein or Dracula has, but after watching the movie again last night my opinion that this is a damn good movie that can stand next to either of those has been cemented.
Let's start, as one always should, with the monster. Claude Rains' performance as the see-through guy is just as good in its own way as Bela Lugosi's Dracula or Karloff's Frankenstein's Monster - his depiction of unhinged megalomania is the stuff of pulp fiction and comic books, but it's both grounded in a weirdly sympathetic character (see the lone scene between he and his ostensible "love interest" in the picture for proof) and ridiculously entertaining. Has anyone in any medium said the word "fools" as well as Claude Rains in The Invisible Man? I can't think of anyone. And Rains is well-served to say the least by a fantastic makeup job and character design - he looks genuinely unsettling wrapped in bandages, particularly in the beginning of the movie when he has some hair of a wig poking up through the wraps. And the special effects utilized to bring his invisibility to life are still some of the best ever - some of the shots are so complicated that it gives me a headache to try to imagine how exactly they were accomplished. I also liked the cinematic trick of having the camera follow him even when there was nothing to see - strikes me as sort of a cutting-edge idea for the 1930s.
James Whale famously married horror and camp for high artistic dividends in Bride of Frankenstein, but he warmed up his comedy muscles here, with some very effective wry humor and sight gags. The funniest thing about it though would have to be the police officers in the story, all with their own distinctly "slow" speech patterns and line readings. You get the sense that everyone's having a lot of fun with the more humorous aspects of this story, which is not something you often get in genre films from this era. And yet, the movie is surprisingly brutal too, with some shocking bits of violence (check out the scene where Rains smashes a cop's face with a small wooden bench) and a very high body count.
Sometimes when called upon to tell people my favorite Universal Monster, I cite James Whale's 1933 scifi/horror/comedy The Invisible Man. I will admit a LITTLE bit of contrarian attitude there, as this movie doesn't have anywhere near the reputation that Frankenstein or Dracula has, but after watching the movie again last night my opinion that this is a damn good movie that can stand next to either of those has been cemented.
Let's start, as one always should, with the monster. Claude Rains' performance as the see-through guy is just as good in its own way as Bela Lugosi's Dracula or Karloff's Frankenstein's Monster - his depiction of unhinged megalomania is the stuff of pulp fiction and comic books, but it's both grounded in a weirdly sympathetic character (see the lone scene between he and his ostensible "love interest" in the picture for proof) and ridiculously entertaining. Has anyone in any medium said the word "fools" as well as Claude Rains in The Invisible Man? I can't think of anyone. And Rains is well-served to say the least by a fantastic makeup job and character design - he looks genuinely unsettling wrapped in bandages, particularly in the beginning of the movie when he has some hair of a wig poking up through the wraps. And the special effects utilized to bring his invisibility to life are still some of the best ever - some of the shots are so complicated that it gives me a headache to try to imagine how exactly they were accomplished. I also liked the cinematic trick of having the camera follow him even when there was nothing to see - strikes me as sort of a cutting-edge idea for the 1930s.
James Whale famously married horror and camp for high artistic dividends in Bride of Frankenstein, but he warmed up his comedy muscles here, with some very effective wry humor and sight gags. The funniest thing about it though would have to be the police officers in the story, all with their own distinctly "slow" speech patterns and line readings. You get the sense that everyone's having a lot of fun with the more humorous aspects of this story, which is not something you often get in genre films from this era. And yet, the movie is surprisingly brutal too, with some shocking bits of violence (check out the scene where Rains smashes a cop's face with a small wooden bench) and a very high body count.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Night of Terror #4: Shadow of the Vampire
I was talking to a friend recently about the appeal of old horror movies. My friend posited the theory that the reason classic horror is better than the newer stuff is because "people were creepier back then." He even had some numbers to back up his claim, so it must be true: He said that anyone who existed before 1950 is scarier than people who came after (for my part, his theory certainly holds true in regards to my ex-wife's parents!!!!). I dunno how much I buy any of his theories about movies or people, but I can think of one horror movie actor whose otherworldly mystery and creepiness are impossible to imagine in a more modern setting: Nosferatu's Max Schreck.
Schreck's work in 1922's Nosferatu is so convincing (and his modern-day visibility in other roles so virtually nonexistent), that his performance gave birth to several urban legends among horror movie fans - the most interesting one being that he was actually a vampire. That's the hook behind Shadow of the Vampire, and as hooks go, it's a pretty solid one.
Because of the premise of an alternative making-of story of Nosferatu in which an overzealous FW Murnau employs an actual vampire to make his vampire movie, I'd long expected Shadow to be a broad (but dark) comedy, like something the Coen brothers or Charlie Kaufman would come up with. Instead, once I finally watched Shadow of the Vampire I discovered that the whole thing is played relatively straight, with John Malkovich's Murnau a very convincing picture of artistic genius turning into madness. The other highlight of the cast is Willem Dafoe as Schreck, who pretty much acts exactly as you would imagine Count Orlock would when he's not on camera. Eddie Izzard also does a pretty hilarious job capturing the overblown emotions and broad mugging that characterize most silent movie acting.
Despite the humorous touches, I found the climax of the film, in which Murnau and his crew attempt to finally do away with the vampire (but not without capturing his movie's climax on camera first, even if it means sacrificing his leading lady) genuinely disturbing. Murnau ends up being a deranged almost Manson-like figure, throwing his cast and crew to the wolves (or wolf, as it were) just so he can make a great movie. Although....given that it's Nosferatu we're talking about, maybe it would have been worth it?
Schreck's work in 1922's Nosferatu is so convincing (and his modern-day visibility in other roles so virtually nonexistent), that his performance gave birth to several urban legends among horror movie fans - the most interesting one being that he was actually a vampire. That's the hook behind Shadow of the Vampire, and as hooks go, it's a pretty solid one.
Because of the premise of an alternative making-of story of Nosferatu in which an overzealous FW Murnau employs an actual vampire to make his vampire movie, I'd long expected Shadow to be a broad (but dark) comedy, like something the Coen brothers or Charlie Kaufman would come up with. Instead, once I finally watched Shadow of the Vampire I discovered that the whole thing is played relatively straight, with John Malkovich's Murnau a very convincing picture of artistic genius turning into madness. The other highlight of the cast is Willem Dafoe as Schreck, who pretty much acts exactly as you would imagine Count Orlock would when he's not on camera. Eddie Izzard also does a pretty hilarious job capturing the overblown emotions and broad mugging that characterize most silent movie acting.
Despite the humorous touches, I found the climax of the film, in which Murnau and his crew attempt to finally do away with the vampire (but not without capturing his movie's climax on camera first, even if it means sacrificing his leading lady) genuinely disturbing. Murnau ends up being a deranged almost Manson-like figure, throwing his cast and crew to the wolves (or wolf, as it were) just so he can make a great movie. Although....given that it's Nosferatu we're talking about, maybe it would have been worth it?
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Night of Terror #3: Xtro
Just a little bit of originality in a horror movie can go a long way, especially because we're all so used to getting hit with the same handful of different "horror types" over and over again. Vampire movies, psycho-killer movies, werewolf movies, body-snatcher movies, zombie movies, etc.
So I was pretty delighted with Xtro, the central villain of which never seems to take the same form more than once. And I don't mean it changes like the Alien in Alien, or the Thing in The Thing. The various threats to the characters manifest in such different, crazy ways that the movie often comes off more like particularly imaginative child's nightmare than a conventional horror movie.
I'm going to try not to say too much about the plot, but it really doesn't matter anyway - if I DID describe the plot at length you would probably assume that Xtro fell into one of those predetermined groups (body-snatcher movie, to be specific). But instead of just turning into emotionless drones, the aliens' victims...well, suffice it to say it's quite a bit more complicated (and fun) than that.
I'll give just one example of the creativity overflowing from Xtro, which by the way was intended as a sort of British knock-off of Alien: Towards the beginning of the movie, an unlucky couple runs into one of the movie's monsters - a creature with such a startling and memorable design I figured he'd be seen a lot over the course of the movie. Nope. We never see him again! And just when you think you have Xtro figured out - there's a scene with a giant GI Joe action figure come to life attacking an old woman with a bayonet. God Bless Halloween.
So I was pretty delighted with Xtro, the central villain of which never seems to take the same form more than once. And I don't mean it changes like the Alien in Alien, or the Thing in The Thing. The various threats to the characters manifest in such different, crazy ways that the movie often comes off more like particularly imaginative child's nightmare than a conventional horror movie.
I'm going to try not to say too much about the plot, but it really doesn't matter anyway - if I DID describe the plot at length you would probably assume that Xtro fell into one of those predetermined groups (body-snatcher movie, to be specific). But instead of just turning into emotionless drones, the aliens' victims...well, suffice it to say it's quite a bit more complicated (and fun) than that.
I'll give just one example of the creativity overflowing from Xtro, which by the way was intended as a sort of British knock-off of Alien: Towards the beginning of the movie, an unlucky couple runs into one of the movie's monsters - a creature with such a startling and memorable design I figured he'd be seen a lot over the course of the movie. Nope. We never see him again! And just when you think you have Xtro figured out - there's a scene with a giant GI Joe action figure come to life attacking an old woman with a bayonet. God Bless Halloween.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Night of Terror #2: Murders in the Rue Morgue
Edgar Allan Poe has to be one of the most popular authors in horror movies, even though he died before movies even existed (how did he even know how to tell stories so effectively? It is a mystery). And even though he was a very prolific writer, churning out lots (one of the cool things about this blog is how well-researched it is) of material in a variety of different written media, Hollywood and filmmakers elsewhere have generally focused on a small handful of his works when it gets to be movie-making time.
Which brings us to 1971's Murders in the Rue Morgue, from The Greatest Motion Picture Studio Of All Time, American-International Pictures. Murders was a late entry in that studio's famous "Poe cycle," which included classics like Masque of the Red Death and The Raven. But those classics have two crucial ingredients that this movie is sorely lacking: Director Roger Corman, and actor/movie god Vincent Price.
Instead, we have director Gordon Hessler (who comes off as very charmingly self-effacing in the DVD featurette, I especially like the way he says the word "meaningless") and the recently departed Herbert Lom, who happens to be the reason I chose this for tonight's horror movie. Sorry for BURYING YOU ALIVE under two paragraphs, Mr. Lom! Ha ha! But seriously, Lom is pretty good. RIP.
Jason Robards is also OK in the movie, and there are some potentially interesting metatextual bits involving the movie's Grand Guignol setting (the original story is pretty much disregarded save for the presence of a theatrical orangutan or gorilla or some damn primate that's actually just an actor in a suit. Sudden idea: A movie about a play-within-the-movie that features a gorilla, but the actor in a gorilla suit is played by an actual gorilla. That'd put asses in the seats, by god. Get me Zarkoff on the horn), but the movie doesn't actually do much with this, not even to get some sick laughs out of the spectacle of a bunch of respectable society types buying tickets to a show to see violence, then being horrified by actual genuine violence.
Still, it manages to hum along nicely. Definitely recommended viewing if you're interested in AIP horror. And why the hell wouldn't you be??
Which brings us to 1971's Murders in the Rue Morgue, from The Greatest Motion Picture Studio Of All Time, American-International Pictures. Murders was a late entry in that studio's famous "Poe cycle," which included classics like Masque of the Red Death and The Raven. But those classics have two crucial ingredients that this movie is sorely lacking: Director Roger Corman, and actor/movie god Vincent Price.
Instead, we have director Gordon Hessler (who comes off as very charmingly self-effacing in the DVD featurette, I especially like the way he says the word "meaningless") and the recently departed Herbert Lom, who happens to be the reason I chose this for tonight's horror movie. Sorry for BURYING YOU ALIVE under two paragraphs, Mr. Lom! Ha ha! But seriously, Lom is pretty good. RIP.
Jason Robards is also OK in the movie, and there are some potentially interesting metatextual bits involving the movie's Grand Guignol setting (the original story is pretty much disregarded save for the presence of a theatrical orangutan or gorilla or some damn primate that's actually just an actor in a suit. Sudden idea: A movie about a play-within-the-movie that features a gorilla, but the actor in a gorilla suit is played by an actual gorilla. That'd put asses in the seats, by god. Get me Zarkoff on the horn), but the movie doesn't actually do much with this, not even to get some sick laughs out of the spectacle of a bunch of respectable society types buying tickets to a show to see violence, then being horrified by actual genuine violence.
Still, it manages to hum along nicely. Definitely recommended viewing if you're interested in AIP horror. And why the hell wouldn't you be??
Night of Terror #1: Splatter Farm "Slash" An Introduction
Believe it or not, it's been 11 months since the last night of terror. Didn't that just fly by? So now we're going to reapply our rictus grins and start again fresh, with either a horror classic or a "horror classic," depending on who you ask. It's 1986's Splatter Farm, a shot-on-video micro-budgeted horror smorgasbord from the frighteningly prolific Polonia brothers - identical twins who went on to have a healthy career making really disgusting horror movies that only 2 or 3 dozen weirdos in the world would ever even dream of watching.
Splatter Farm is their debut feature, and I can't in good conscience pretend to be one of those weirdos, even though sometimes I'd like to be. I hadn't even heard of this movie before about a week ago, when I found out it was going to be the next feature in my beloved Video Hate Squad, a series of VHS-only films screened at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin (just so you don't think I'm a corporate shill I will add that I ordered one of their new milkshakes and it tasted like shit, just absolute shit). I figured that would be as good a title as any with which to kick off my season of horror movies. What could go wrong?
Well, like I said before, even though I love horror movies, I feel like Splatter Farm belongs to the bottom circle of horror hell where only the absolutely fearless and deranged dare tread. The content is just abominable, covering everything from gruesome decapitations, to incest, to date rape, to child murder, to the very serious social epidemic of chopping off a dead body's hand and using it to masturbate. Seriously, how many public figures do we have to see chopping off the hands of dead bodies and using them to masturbate before we the people will take a stand? Just because something is done doesn't make it right.
That doesn't even begin to capture the discomfort and feverish-nightmare quality that goes into a viewing of the original uncut Splatter Farm. There is a definite charm behind the homemade quality of this movie - it's not a cynical pander to the lowest common denominator, and it was self-evidently a labor of love for all involved. But it's also horror cinema for people who are tired of even the vaguest pretense of art and/or quality, and who just want to be assaulted with disgusting brutality for a little over an hour. Maybe one day, if I work hard enough, I will finally be one of them.
Splatter Farm is their debut feature, and I can't in good conscience pretend to be one of those weirdos, even though sometimes I'd like to be. I hadn't even heard of this movie before about a week ago, when I found out it was going to be the next feature in my beloved Video Hate Squad, a series of VHS-only films screened at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin (just so you don't think I'm a corporate shill I will add that I ordered one of their new milkshakes and it tasted like shit, just absolute shit). I figured that would be as good a title as any with which to kick off my season of horror movies. What could go wrong?
Well, like I said before, even though I love horror movies, I feel like Splatter Farm belongs to the bottom circle of horror hell where only the absolutely fearless and deranged dare tread. The content is just abominable, covering everything from gruesome decapitations, to incest, to date rape, to child murder, to the very serious social epidemic of chopping off a dead body's hand and using it to masturbate. Seriously, how many public figures do we have to see chopping off the hands of dead bodies and using them to masturbate before we the people will take a stand? Just because something is done doesn't make it right.
That doesn't even begin to capture the discomfort and feverish-nightmare quality that goes into a viewing of the original uncut Splatter Farm. There is a definite charm behind the homemade quality of this movie - it's not a cynical pander to the lowest common denominator, and it was self-evidently a labor of love for all involved. But it's also horror cinema for people who are tired of even the vaguest pretense of art and/or quality, and who just want to be assaulted with disgusting brutality for a little over an hour. Maybe one day, if I work hard enough, I will finally be one of them.
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