Review #523: 'Begotten' (1990)

Beginning with a truly disturbing scene that depicts God (Brian Salzberg) slicing himself open with a straight razor, Begotten tells the story of Genesis through a series of strange, methodical scenes involving various, unnamed characters in a barren landscape. While God lies dead, his blood sprayed across the walls and pooled on the floor, Mother Earth (Donna Dempsey) is born through his semen and sets off into the wilderness, where the Son of Earth (Stephen Charles Barry) is created. His body writhes pathetically in the dirt, and is found and captured by a group of hooded nomads. They drag him through the wilderness, collecting objects that the Son of Earth vomits, and when they cross paths with Mother Earth, they proceed to rape and destroy her.

Begotten is one of those rare films that manages to frustrate you as much as it will fascinate. The imagery, which took ten hours per second to render, is truly unnerving. It's like watching a lost silent film only to realise it contains some of the most fucked-up imagery ever committed to film. Often the film is so scratched and the blacks and whites so grainy, it's difficult to make out exactly what is happening. But maybe that's the point, perhaps the violent acts committed by the hooded beings are best seen through squinted eyes or merely glimpsed. Not much happens - most of the film spends watching the Son of Earth being dragged and abused, and the only soundtrack consists of crickets and birds, that become so repetitive it actually adds to the psychological torment of the film. But Begotten wasn't meant to be enjoyed, but simply experienced, and if you can look past its art-house pretensions, this is one of the most original horror films of the last 25 years.

Directed by: E. Elias Merhige

Starring: Brian Salzberg, Donna Dempsey, Stephen Charles Barry

Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #522: 'Giallo' (2009)

In Turin, Italy, beautiful young model Celine (Elsa Pataky) is kidnapped by a taxi driver, who takes her to his torture chamber where a previous victim still lies half-dead. Celine was on her way to meet her sister Linda (Emmanuelle Seigner), who eventually suspects foul play. With the police unwilling to help, she turns to Italian-American detective Enzo (Adrien Brody), who is deep into an investigation that stretches way back, involving many missing girls who turn up tortured and murdered at seemingly random spots.

Former master of horror Dario Argento has been in deep decline since his 1970's heyday. Even his own fanboys admit that the visionary has lost his touch, and his films no longer have the gliding beauty he injected into the likes of Deep Red (1975), Suspiria (1977) and Inferno (1980). Thankfully (or should I say hopefully?), it would seem that Argento must be on the ascension, as Giallo, his homage to the sub-genre that prevailed in the 60's and 70's, must surely signal rock-bottom. He surely cannot produce anything so confusingly dire, or he should simply pack his bags and stop making movies. It beggars belief how the man that created some of the most elegant horror movies ever made can fail to raise even a moment of inspiration, and at times seems to parody the genre rather than showing any real love for it.

After being promoted as being something of a return to form for the auteur and a return to director's roots, Giallo was given a very limited release (I believe it went straight-to-DVD here in the UK) after a verbal slamming from audiences and critics alike. The most famous thing to come out of it was Adrien Brody's law-suit against the producers, claiming he had yet to be paid, and tried to halt any releases of the film until he was given what he was owed. Well, judging from his performance here, the Oscar-winner doesn't deserve a dime, sleep-walking through his role and bringing no life to his thinly-written, cliché-ridden character. Any attempts to blur the lines between his miserable detective and the sadistic killer comes across as laughable, and the 'big reveal' that explains his back-story is just plain silly.

For a film marketing itself as a giallo, the film lacks anything resembling the visual class or the sleazy atmosphere of the best of the genre, with Argento's camera glides feeling more like the director's futile attempts to polish a turd. It instead has more in common with that popular, ugly sub-genre of the modern age - torture porn. We see a girl's lips cut off with scissors, and a particularly nasty hammer-to-the-skull moment, cheap tricks that are more akin to the likes of Eli Roth's Hostel (2005) and its countless imitators. The killer looks like he's wandered in from the set of Joe D'Amato's Anthropophagus (1980), and is one of many plot devices that confuse and defy logic. Depressing then, seeing a once-great director stoop so low, but maybe his ambitious Dracula 3D (2012) will see a return to form.


Directed by: Dario Argento
Starring: Adrien Brody, Emmanuelle Seigner, Elsa Pataky
Country: USA/UK/Spain/Italy

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #521: 'Waxworks' (1924)

When a young writer (William Dieterle) sees an advert in the paper requesting somebody with a big imagination, he takes the job and finds himself in a wax museum, where the owner asks him to write stories about his three finest works. His models are of Harun al-Rashid, Ivan the Terrible, and Spring-Heeled Jack, and when Harun's arm accidentally drops off, the writer's imagination starts to wander, and he sets about telling his fantastical tales.

Although in essence a horror film, Waxworks is more of an anthology film, juggling genres and tones to fit the mood of the individual piece. While this can be an inventive and successful approach (Creepshow (1982), for example), it can also damage a film's flow if not carefully constructed, risking leaving one story in another's shadow if they also vary in quality. Waxworks suffers for this unfortunately, mainly due to the unevenness in the stories' running times, and the sudden shifts in tone. The stories increase in quality as the film goes on, which is a good thing, but in the case of Waxworks, it leaves a disappointing taste in the mouth given the running time of the final piece is within the blink of an eye.

The first story has German silent screen legend Emil Jannings playing Harun al-Rashid, who is informed by his advisor that the most beautiful woman he has ever seen (played by Olga Belajeff) is married to a baker in the city. Rashid goes to win the love of the beauty, but she has set her husband (Dieterle) off to prove himself as a man by stealing the wishing ring from Rashid. Taking a fantasy approach, this story also has a sprinkling of comedy. Jannings if a colossal beast, as you would expect, and brings his dramatic chops to a rarely-seen comedic role. Yet this section drags, and the beautiful expressionist sets don't manage to save it from becoming a silly pantomime.

Another German silent icon, Conrad Veidt, plays Ivan the Terrible in the second section, which focuses on Ivan's insane obsession with his potion maker, who can seemingly strike death upon anyone he chooses. It has all the wide-eye operatic tones of Sergei Eisenstein's own Ivan adaptations, with Veidt proving the perfect candidate for Ivan's descent into complete madness. And the final story sees the writer fall asleep at his desk and begin a creepy dream about being stalked by a killer (Werner Krauss) in the streets. It is the final story that remains the most impressive, but sadly only lasts about four minutes.

Weimar Germany brought some of the greatest screen icons and most innovative directors in cinema history to the fore during the free-spirited expressionist movement, and although by 1924 the movement was fading away, Waxworks has some fine examples. The winding, claustrophobic staircases of the city streets in the first story evoke the most popular film of the movement, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), and in a way, Waxworks almost feels like a homage to Robert Wiene's masterpiece, employing Krauss (who played the titular character) and Veidt who both starred. There is certainly a lot to admire here from a visual standpoint, but even three silent screen giants can't save it from being a slight disappointment, given the promise shown in the final story.


Directed by: Leo Birinsky, Paul Leni
Starring: Emil Jannings, Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, William Dieterle, Olga Belajeff
Country: Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #520: 'At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul' (1964)

Now known as the beginning of the 'Coffin Joe Trilogy', Jose Mojica Marins' supernatural horror has garnered a loyal cult following through it's camp sets, it's grainy, low-budget photography, and the wildly sadistic acts of violence by it's anti-hero, Ze do Caixao (or Coffin Joe - to translate - played by Marins). Dressed all in black, with a long cape, top hat and full beard, Coffin Joe has become an iconic figure amongst die-hard horror fans, and his (outlandish) presence is undeniable. Joe is an undertaker, and rejects all ideas of Christianity or faith (he literally laughs in the face of it), so his dark demeanour is the embodiment of evil, and ultimately, Satan.

At Midnight... kick-starts Joe ultimate quest to find a suitable wife who will bore him a son, therefore cementing his precious blood-line for years to come. His current wife Lenita (Valeria Vasquez) loves him, though she cannot give him a son. Infatuated by Terezinha (Magda Mei), the fiancée of his best friend Antonio (Nivaldo Lima), he tries to seduce her, but she rejects his advances, leaving Joe infuriated. Convinced that Lenita is the thing standing between him and Terezinha, he ties Lenita to the bed and lets her get bitten by a venomous spider. But Joe learns that the things he wants in life must be taken rather than earned, and he begins a killing spree in the face of a prophecy that deems him to die on the night of the Day of the Dead.

Beginning with huge lashings of style, Marins introduces his actors in the opening credits by showing them dying later in the film. It's an interesting approach, and almost as if Marins wishes us to view the characters as the walking dead, as we already know their fate. There are freeze-frames, trippy texts, and an almost industrial soundtrack layered with shrills and screams. It's all very theatrical, akin to a pantomime at times, with the clichéd gypsy fortune teller talking directly to camera and warning the audience that they should not watch the movie. But it was this old-fashioned approach, and the almost ineptness of its execution, that made this such an enjoyable experience.

We have fake cobwebs, spiders, and a gypsy witch with a shrieking laugh combined with moments of utter surreality, and a surprisingly gruesome streak given its age (Joe removes a doctor's eyeballs, mashes the fingers of a rival poker player with a broken bottle, and flogs a man half to death). It's no surprise Marins is a national treasure in his native Brazil, as he single-handedly brought the horror genre to his country after starting his career with westerns and dramas. The final instalment to the trilogy was just made in 2008, so its quite impressive given that his character is memorable enough to stretch over four decades. Next up will be the deliciously-titled This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse (1967).


Directed by: José Mojica Marins
Starring: José Mojica Marins, Magda Mei, Nivaldo Lima, Valéria Vasquez
Country: Brazil

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #519: 'Critters' (1986)

A group of alien creatures known as the 'Krites' escape from a meteor prison station and head towards Earth, so the leaders of the station instantly sets two shape-shifting bounty hunters out to retrieve them. On Earth, the rural Brown family, Helen (Dee Wallace), Jay (Billy "Green" Bush), their daughter April (Nadine Van Der Velde) and son Brad (Scott Grimes), live peacefully on their farm in Kansas. The Krites (or 'Critters') arrive on Earth and wreak havoc, attacking police cars and encroaching on the Brown family's farm. The bounty hunters arrive too, witnessed by Jay and Brad, and aggressively seek out the critters, as the tiny terrors descend on the Brown's.

Seemingly both pro and anti-Spielberg in nature, Critters benefits from - like so many horror films of its era and ilk - the puppet design. While the whole concept is a thinly-disguised rip-off of the vastly superior Gremlins (1984), the critters are certainly enjoyable to watch, as, unlike the gremlins, they dispose of people in variously gruesome ways with their razor-sharp teeth and their spikes (which they project like darts from their back). It's just a shame that the makers decided to crowbar in the alien bounty hunter sub-plot that not only takes the action away from the critters, but gives the film a very silly, slapstick edge that reminded me of Suburban Commando (1991).

While Spielberg had set the family blockbuster groundwork with Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) and the massively successful E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial (1982), depicting the wonder of alien invasion from the view of the family unit, Critters seems to be happy enough following this familiar path, but giving the film of a more violent edge (in one scene, a critter bites the head of Brad's E.T. teddy). It is these aspects that work for and against the film, giving it a warm familiarity of the line of 'kid-friendly' 80's horror/sci-fi movies, but reminded you that Spielberg did it far, far better. But at only 82 minutes, it doesn't demand much attention, but manages to be entertaining enough when it grabs it.


Directed by: Stephen Herek
Starring: Dee Wallace, M. Emmet Walsh, Billy Green Bush, Scott Grimes, Nadine Van Der Velde
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #518: 'Bloody Pit of Horror' (1965)

When a group of photographers and models sneak into an apparently abandoned castle to do a photo-shoot, they are immediately asked to leave by the castle's inhabitant, Travis Anderson (Mickey Hargitay). But when he recognises his ex-fiancé Edith (Luisa Baratto) amongst the group, he changes his mind and gives them the freedom of the castle. Lurking in the castle's dungeons, where the group have set up, is the preserved body of an executed serial-killer named The Crimson Executioner, and when his coffin is disturbed, his spirit is released and enters the body of Travis. Soon enough, bodies are dropping like flies while the 'hero' Rick (Walter Brandi), desperately attempts to save them.

Former Mr. Universe Mickey Hargitay made a moderately successful career for himself after appearing in the excellently madcap Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957) with his wife Jayne Mansfield. He was mainly employed in B-grade Italian horror movies such as the twisted Delirium (1972), and he is just about the only good thing is Bloody Pit of Horror, also known as The Red Hangman, A Tale of Torture, and most hilariously, Some Virgins for the Hangman. Although his role is completely ridiculous, he has a hulking presence that brings a likeability to Travis, even when he is wide-eyed, tightening the hold of a rack. Plus I couldn't imagine anyone else being able to pull off those red, spandex pants.

The sets have a bright, technicholour warmth about them, reminiscent of some of the classic Hammer horrors and Roger Corman's Poe adaptations, that give the film a nicely gothic, if slightly camp, feel. But ultimately it is as effective as wrapping a ribbon around a turd, failing to cover up the sheer atrocity of its direction. It is so over-the-top and silly that the film ends up feeling like a cartoon, containing torture scenes that include a woman stuck in a giant web with a spider so badly constructed, I don't know if it was meant to be real or not. That said, I still found this quite fun, but I don't feel good about it.


Directed by: Massimo Pupillo
Starring: Mickey Hargitay, Walter Brandi, Luisa Baratto
Country: Italy/USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #517: 'Troll' (1986)

Perhaps more famous now because of its 'sequel' Troll 2 (1990) - an unrelated cash-in that is frequented with the 'worst movie ever' tag - Troll continued the popular trend in the 1980's of giving a darker edge to children's movies and fantastical stories. After moving in to an apartment complex full of colourful, eccentric characters, the Potter families' daughter Wendy (Jenny Beck) is attacked in their basement by a troll, who possesses her. Soon enough, the troll is breeding many other fairytale monsters. Wendy's brother Harry (Noah Hathaway) notices her strange behaviour and alerts resident Eunice St. Clair (June Lockhart), who just so happens to be a powerful witch.

The story is ludicrous and the execution is generally confused in terms of tone and target audience, but Troll does manage to muster a certain charm through its puppet design, designed by director John Carl Buechler. There is a bizarre moment at around the half way mark where the troll and his creatures burst into a macabre sing-a-long, and single-handedly manages to rescue the film from complete disaster. Add to that the intense watchability of the great Michael Moriarty, whose hangdog face and impeccable comic timing always raises a laugh, and you have a shit film, rather than a very shit one.

It's confusing as to what it is trying to be, whether a twisted take on familiar fairytale conventions, a creepy kids film, or a horror-comedy. It manages to be all of these, but they are thrown together to create a huge mess of a film. The plot is far too incoherent to make any real sense of, and the film babbles its way to a silly, yet colourful climax. It's one of those films that would be a laugh if watched with friends and many beers, but watched alone stone cold sober, it's a drag. Possibly the only interesting fact that comes from Troll is its involvement in a legal battle with J.K. Rowling, due to similarities with the character names (Moriarty and Hathaway are name Harry Potter Sr. and Jr.) and magical aspects, but it seems a bit far-fetched to me. Worth a watch for fans of 80's puppet horror, and for a young and very beautiful Julia Louis-Dreyfus, but otherwise this is destined for bargain-bin obscurity.


Directed by: John Carl Buechler
Starring: Noah Hathaway, Michael Moriarty, Shelley Hack, Jenny Beck, June Lockhart, Sonny Bono
Country: USA/Italy

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #516: 'Dementia' (1955)

Dementia is a relatively short (originally running at 61 minutes, but cut to 56) noirish mood piece that begins and ends with the camera slowing zooming into the hotel room window of a damaged woman, the Gamin (meaning street urchin - played by director John Parker's secretary Adrienne Barrett). She is stirred to awakening from unsettled, possibly nightmarish dreams, and begins a late-night descent into the more lubricious elements of modern city life. Through the hidden dirt alleyways and the jazz dens of '50's America, her night intertwines with a drunk hobo, a lascivious pimp, and a rich man (played by producer Bruno VeSota) whom she travels round with as he consumes the fruits of his wealth. The Gamin's mental state, and implied madness are signified by flashback's of a traumatic event with her parents; she kills her father in retaliation of his murder of her mother.

Shot largely with static, black and white shots by cinematographer, William C. Thompson (who worked extensively with legendary Edward D. Wood), each frame is imbued with a strange tension, and are incredible compositions of beauty and expressionist horror. An effective musical score by George Antheil is significant within the context of the film, which uses no dialogue, and minimal sound (we occasionally hear laughter, cries, and sound effects such as breaking glass). These elements, including some very expressionistic acting styles, has led to the film being often compared to Robert Weine's silent masterpiece, Das Cabinet Des Dr Caligari (1920), and whilst Dementia is certainly a competent little shocker, and has some visual flares of insanity, it doesn't really hold up against the German predecessor. 

It is easy to compare the stilted visual style of the film to the film noir cycle that was prevalent in the '40's and '50's, which shows the underbelly of the city in all of its muddied repulsion. An antidote to the predominant film style of the time, which falsely portrays the Eisenhower-era complete with the technicolor façade  With a cyclical narrative, the Gamin finds herself in the same hotel room, waking from a possible nightmare at the end of the film, leaving the mystery of her true identity and a questioning of her level of insanity: Are these visions and city excursions simply a trip through her almost-linear nightmare? Whilst the film has been largely forgotten, it is most famous for being the film shown in the cinema in The Blob (1958), it is still a very interesting "dream-narrative", and one which undoubtedly had influence on later film makers.


Directed by: John Parker
Starring: Adrienne Barrett, Bruno VeSota, Ben Roseman
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #515: 'Martyrs' (2008)

By the start of the 21st century, horror cinema had exhausted the post-modernist referencing of films such as the Scream trilogy (1996 - 2000), or simply settled on a variety of remakes of the ghostly, modernist narratives from Japan (Ringu (1998) for example). After the last decade of the 20th century, which was signified with largely bland cinema, and a political climate focused on the perpetration of sexual deviance, the financial boom of the '90's was still to be revealed as a fallacy, but this extension of capital greed would create an event that would change everything. The attack on the twin towers in New York in 2001, led to a political and media climate of fear. From this fear, the machinations of our political elite were exposed (it was also the first significant decade that unregulated Internet discussion became widespread), with the manufacture of torture on the island prison of Guantanamo Bay. The climate of fear, and the perpetration of US foreign policy on suspected terrorists would inevitably be reflected in cinema - specifically the horror genre.

This trend, set by films such as Saw (2004) and particularly Eli Roth's Hostel (2005) and their sequels, the sub-genre was defined by the journalistic term "torture porn" (or gorenography), and was focused on physical mutilation, torment and bodily endurance. French filmmaker and screenwriter Pascal Laugier took this very conceited concept and managed to create a disturbing, and potentially politically motivated, and gender specific narrative of institutional abuse. After a prologue involving a young girl being manipulated and abused by an unidentified institution, the film portrays an appealing family breakfast, which is quickly intruded upon. A young woman, Lucie (Mylene Jampanoi), bursts into the family property gunning down the 2 point 4 unit. Once she is joined by Anna (Morjana Alaoui), the significance of the murders becomes apparent. This seemingly idyllic family unit hides a dark secret, and these two young women had escaped from their tortuous captors 15 years previously.

Whilst the first part of the film focuses on the revenge of the abused girls, the film alters both thematically and changes the protagonist/spectator relationship. A trick used by Hitchcock in Psycho (1960) when the leading lady, Janet Leigh, is killed off, the audience's identity is with the unstable Lucie. Anna's apparent devotion to Lucie extends to the clean up in the slaughter house. If the first half of the film could be read as a simplistic revenge narrative, with hints of almost delusional character hysteria, then the second part, focused on Anna, forms an incredibly moving and disturbing descent into human suffering and endurance. The secrets that the house hold is tantamount to serious, institutional experimentation.

Before Lucie leaves the film, she is haunted by a twisted and deformed person, the apparition of a girl who attacked her when she was young. But as the house is explored further, the extent of the experiment is revealed. Whilst the perpetrators have moved from their original location, their activities as torturers have moved with them. A basement is set up for the purposes of systematic violence. What becomes apparent is that the experiments perpetrated on young girls is formed by an elite society, looking for answers to fundamental philosophical questions about existence. It is this secretive elite that is reflective of the elitist society that rules the global masses. This society (or global institutions) pursue these transcendental answers with disregard of the masses that they torture. Anna's endurance and levels of abuse, can be transcended  if strong enough, but why would we sacrifice our personal narrative to offer information to our institutions? Like the suspected terrorist held at Guantanamo, can any extracted information be effectively useful.

As Hostel portrayed the "other" (that is the foreigner of America) as twisted, and not civilised like the predominant culture, Martyrs portrays the dominant politics of American foreign policy (and the axis of evil simplification of terrorism), as damaging and personally tragic. It is certainly the most interesting of the "torture porn" films that I have seen, but could easily be interpreted as incredibly misogynist. The elitist "society" group within the film focuses its attentions on women only - the gender whose susceptibility to the experiment is historically "easier", but then, the middle-eastern terrorist would be portrayed in the media as women haters. The male interpretation of their religion places the female as second class, and many of the well publicised "suicide bombers" were women.

A damning indictment of the 21st century's fearsome political climate, but also a thrilling, scary, and often disturbing film. It offers interesting twists, and some gory asides of violence and mutilation, with breathless verisimilitude. The last twenty minutes or so shift in tone, and the audience is witness the full extent of the torture experiment. With the climactic allusions towards Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), and references to Hellraiser (1987), it is more rewarding than the average gore film of its ilk. As of November 2010, an American "remake" was announced, but here's hoping that by the time the undoubtedly false starts in production of an English language project, will be completely abandoned. Basically, here's hoping that this torture trend will dissipate, and completely disappear. But than again, will the political and social extremities of our current political milieu be changed before the horror genre trend?


Directed by: Pascal Laugier
Starring: Morjana Alaoui, Mylène Jampanoï, Catherine Bégin
Country: France/Canada

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #514: 'The Howling' (1981)

The Howling was the first of a cycle of werewolf themed horror films in the early 1980's (The Beast Within (1982), The Company of Wolves (1984, and Silver Bullet (1985)). Two other specific sub-genre pieces were released in 1981 (An American Werewolf in London and Wolfen), and could be seen as simply a product of film economics and bankable trends. Whilst financial reasons are fundamental to film production, innovations in other fields also contribute to this sudden vogue for lycanthropic themes. Prosthetic special effects had been transformed, particularly in horror cinema, by such films as Jaws (1975) and Alien (1979) (or even the inventive puppetry work of Jim Henson's creature workshop), which opened the door for a new generation who would elevate the craft of monster effects, bringing a more realistic, and fantastical vision to the screen. Even into the 1970's, the werewolf transformation was still created in the same way than 1941's iconic The Wolf Man, with a series of dissolves, adding fur and fangs progressively through the shots. The modern werewolf movie was to begin that horror trend to show everything. Filmmakers now had the ability (with the incredible skills of the likes of Rick Baker, Rob Bottin and Stan Winston) to show the transformation from man to monster, in visceral detail.

Rick Baker was originally drafted to provide the special effects for The Howling, (he had to leave due to a commitment he made with John Landis for An American Werewolf in London), and was replaced with Rob Bottin, who did an incredible job. Aside from the effective transformations in the film, director Joe Dante's and screenwriter John Sayles (who previously collaborated on Piranha (1978), infuse the story with their combined knowledge of horror cinema, along with some humour. Dante represents that first generation of film geeks. His knowledge of cinema is encyclopaedic and his knowledge through referencing is displayed explicitly on the screen. Many of the characters are named after directors who had historically filmed werewolf movies (Freddie Francis, George Wagner, Terrance Fisher). The characters are also aware - within the film - of the conventions of werewolf mythology, which has been learnt from being within an increasingly film literate culture, perhaps an early use of post-modernist pop-cultural reflexivity. 

Coming out of a trend for more gritty, realistic horror (a cycle begun with Hitchcock's Psycho (1960)), and during the horror saturation of the slasher sub-genre, The Howling begins in the underbelly of society, Dee Wallace plays a television news reporter (Karen White) who has been conversing with a serial killer. She meets with him in the seedy back room of a porn shop. The opening feels more like a "dirty" slasher like Maniac (1980), with it's pseudo-Scorsese mean streets, that a monster movie, an opening that was utilised when advertised - the posters and trailers rarely alluded to the "beastly" aspect of the story. After the trauma Wallace endures from her meeting with Eddie (Robert Picardo - the serial killer), she is advised by her doctor Wagner (Patrick Macnee), to spend some time at a rehabilitation resort that he runs. Writer Sayles re-wrote the original script that had been adapted from a novel by Gary Brandner, and change it significantly, and brought in the same satirical charm that was in the Piranha (1978) script. Sayles came up with the idea of the resort, the kind of self help group that was prevalent in the 1970's.

After the failure of the hippie "revolution" at the end of the 1960's, and the people's disillusionment of our institutions and governments resulting from incidents such as the Kennedy assassinations and Watergate, many of the lost generation (generation x) were looking for something spiritual, something other than reality. Many groups of "New Age" spiritualist and pop-psychologists were formed, in sometimes sinister forms. This kind of congregation would quite often be corrupt, and fuelled with sexual oppression. And what the victimised Karen finds at the spiritually enhancing resort is an archaic hive for the neurotic species of wolf. In this coven, the wolves are outsiders, on the fringes of society, and is a diminishing group who's relevance in the modern world is narrowing - they are struggling to function in this age. No doubt a comment also on the relevance of this Universal Monsters icon, having lost its ability to scare some time in the 1940's.

A combination for great writing, incredibly effective special effects, and a director with gleeful affection for the genre, The Howling is a very well constructed horror film. It moves from the grindhouse "realism" of it's opening to the revelations of the creatures with consideration, creating a natural narrative structure. It is the equivalent of Robert Rodriguez' From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), which suddenly changed the genre from crime to vampiric horror. Despite the incredibly low budget, produced and distributed by AIP (America International Pictures), with the stylish cinematography and editing, the film still holds up today, and is far superior than many of the werewolf films being made today (The Wolfman (2010) or Red Riding Hood (2011) for example). It's just a shame about all the sequels - six in total, which inevitably lose much of the sharp, satirical script and the collection of great character actors (including Kevin McCarthy, Slim Pickens, John Carradine). And what the hell; it's a lot of fun to watch.


Directed by: Joe Dante
Starring: Dee Wallace, Patrick Macnee, Dennis Dugan, Christopher Stone, Belinda Balaski, Kevin McCarthy, John Carradine, Slim Pickens
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Marc Ivamy

Review #513: 'Blood Feast' (1963)

Back in the early 1960's, when drive-in theaters were still all the rage and the place to go for some haunted house and alien invasion B-movie thrills, producers were completely oblivious to a colossal gap in the market. That is until 1963, when producer David F. Friedman and director Herschell Gordon Lewis came up with a 'script' called Egyptian Blood Feast, a film that would be designed to not only show gratuitous violence, but to have the explicit gore as its main selling point. So Friedman hyped up publicity by handing out 'vomit bags' at screenings, and going as far as taking out an injunction on its own film so kick up a fuss. The film was pants, but the legacy is history, and so was born gore cinema, a sub-genre that horny teenagers still flock to in order to get their cheap thrills.

The film follows the exploits of Muad Ramses (Mal Arnold), an exotic caterer and author of 'Ancient Weird Religious Rights'. Socialite Dorothy Freemont (Lyn Bolton) enters his store and asks Ramses to create a party to remember for her daughter Suzette (Connie Mason), to which Ramses obliges, hoping to create an Egyptian feast that will re-awaken his god Ishtar. The town is beset by gruesome murders, with bodies being butchered and dismembered, puzzling Detective Pete Thornton (William Kerwin), who is co-incidentally studying Egyptian history with, co-incidentally (there's a pattern emerging!) Suzette. Will the detectives be able to unravel the mystery? Will Ramses create his feast, causing the re-birth of Ishtar? Will anyone point out how ridiculous Ramses' fake eyebrows are?

It is easy to make fun of this film - this is H.G. Lewis after all. Yet while every conceivable factor of Blood Feast's production is of the lowest standard, you can't argue with the film's importance. Ramses is an instantly forgettable madman, but he is the original machete-wielding maniac, paving the way for countless slasher imitators, from Michael Myers to Jason Voorhees. Lewis himself said it best - "I've often referred to Blood Feast as a Walt Whitman poem. It's no good, but it was the first of its type." Shockingly, this is arguably Lewis' most gruesome, with the gore factors dropping noticeably with follow-ups Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964) and Color Me Blood Red (1965) (now dubbed The Gore Trilogy). At only 67 minutes, this still tries the patience, and has more plot holes than I care to mention (maybe to stop the killings, someone should have told Ramses that Ishtar is a Babylonian goddess!), but its historical significance has cemented it's place in horror history.


Directed by: Herschell Gordon Lewis
Starring: William Kerwin, Mal Arnold, Connie Mason
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #512: 'They Live' (1988)

A nameless drifter known simply as 'Nada' (former WWF wrestler Roddy Piper) wanders into Los Angeles and finds construction work to get him by. He befriends Frank (Keith David), who takes him to a homeless community, where the impoverished do what they can to help themselves and each other. Nada notices that at a nearby church, a group of freedom fighters, including a man who hacks into TV stations to deliver a message about society being enslaved, are stocking something in massive quantities. When the police destroy the community, Nada escapes after stealing one of the boxes, only to discover they are stacked with sunglasses which, when worn, allows Nada to see the truth - the planet has been overthrown by an elite alien race that are using advertising and mass media to deliver subliminal messages to the consumerist public.

Using numerous sources, including the work of H.P. Lovecraft and the short story 'Eight O'Clock in the Morning' by Ray Nelson, as his inspiration, director John Carpenter coined the idea for They Live after becoming sickened by the media's aim to simply take your money. It's a quite fascinating concept, as Nada wanders the streets littered with signs dictating messages such as 'Obey', 'Marry and Reproduce' and 'Keep Sleeping', to keep the human race zombified and hooked on consuming. Admittedly, it's a rather graceless and unsubtle execution, but They Live has its tongue so far in its cheek that its popping out the other side, and its mise-en-scene rooted in comic book aesthetic. When Nada wanders into a bank rocking a shotgun, spying the numerous alien suits, and proclaims "I have come here to chew bubble gum and kick ass... and I'm all out of bubble gum!", you'll know it's not exactly a film to take too seriously.

The film is littered with memorable scenes and moments that have cemented its status amongst the cult favourites of its era, and most memorable is the five minute fight between Nada and Frank, as the former tries to get the latter to try the sunglasses, with Frank refusing given Nada's previous killing spree. It's a ridiculous episode, re-starting numerous times when you think its all over, but it's very funny, and actually impressively choreographed. The casting of 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper as the lead only increases the curiosity I had with this film, and although he's never going to win any Oscars, his lethargic and stoic approach suits his character, and makes himself a memorable hero (even with his sociopathic yet casual approach to mass murder). 

But beneath all the silliness, there is something very clever here, and has a relevant message that is even more powerful today. The coming together of various mediums into something we carry in our pocket, means the advertising elite are now always on our person - our phones seem to run our lives, with millions noting down their every move on social networking sites. Anyway, I digress, but it's these intriguing themes that make it such a shame that the film is so eager not to take itself too seriously, it resorts to ham-fisted (yet very funny) action scenes and cheesy one-liners every time it's in danger of becoming satirical. Yet, I suppose, it's the ridiculousness of the film that makes it so memorable, and it is undoubtedly a fun and colourful comic-book sci-fi/horror.

Directed by: John Carpenter

Starring: Roddy Piper, Keith David, Meg Foster

Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #511: 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' (1956)

The first of many adaptations of Jack Finney's novel 'The Body Snatchers', - which was originally serialised in Colliers Magazine in 1954, - Don Siegel's film set the science fiction template for cinema narratives about control, and the subversion of individualism. Whilst it has been reported by Finney, Siegel, and others involved in the production, that no political or metaphorical message was intended (they all simply thought that they were making a thriller), the simple story of aliens quietly invading our world and replacing us with emotionless replicas, was an irresistible package that was open to many contemporary interpretations.

The America of the 1950's was one of social convention and conformity, and the desire to present an habitually formal appearance. The outsider who sees behind this veneer is a dangerous person, transgressing from normal linear passages. The teenagers of America (as seen in James Dean's Jim Stark in Rebel Without a Cause (1955)) were a dangerous new opponent to the hypocritical values of the countries proverbial "dream". Therefore, the pervading consensus in political and social attitudes was to distinguish individualism, and to suppress those random and spontaneous desires.

In Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Kevin McCarthy's Dr. Bennell's hysteria is revealed at the start of the film, his recollection of the past days events, told not only to clear his own anxiety-riddled memory, but to also defend his sanity, to confess his erratic behaviour as non-conformist, and to logically explain the reason he "stood out from the crowd". In the next scene the doctor is calm, respectable looking, merging into small town life. He begins to hear reports about people behaving unusually. Close family friends becoming devoid of emotion over night. In a later scene, Bennell and Becky Driscoll (Dana Wynter), an old friend of the doctors, watch a haunting image from a window. A congregation gathers in the town centre, as pods (the alien, plant-like objects that duplicate the humans) are distributed for the indoctrination of their children and loved ones. A violent response to the rise of adolescent rebellion, from the formative generation, but also a more sinister political philosophy.

When the pod people begin enveloping the inhabitants of Santa Mira, their ideological conspiracy is an easy metaphor for the political machinations of McCartyism, the propagandist attack on communism, and the perceived danger to American values; or a reflection on the rise of Hitler and Nazism in Germany in the 1930's. In these context's, it is the loss of personal freedoms and individual rights, brought on by political conformity, that transforms the population into zombies. Without these fundamental human emotions and freedoms, we are simply mechanisms to order. Nothing unique comes from that. As Dr. Bennell discovers the ramifications of conformity, he disputes the outcome; he doesn't want to lose love, anger, frustration, or grief. These emotional reactions to the various obstacles of life or essential to our originality.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers wasn't at all unique in its themes. Many of the decades science fiction films were expressing similar fears of invasion (The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), War of the Worlds (1953)), but Siegel's was a far more subtler production, than some of the more lavish special effects driven movies. Partly, no doubt, to the minuscule budget. But the film is still effective today, the pace building tension throughout, and revealing increasingly horrific and terrifying images. Over fifty years later, it is consistently the best adaptation of the source novel, and the alarming themes of global control and political corruption, are still relevant (possibly more insipidly) in the twenty-first century.


Directed by: Don Siegel
Starring: Kevin McCarthy, Dana Wynter, Larry Gates, King Donovan, Carolyn Jones
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy

Review #510: 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' (1978)

After discovering a strange flower pod and taking it home, health department agent Elizabeth Driscoll (Brooke Adams) notices her partner Geoffrey (Art Hindle) acting strangely. She follows him, watching him meet up with similarly morbid characters exchanging packages. It is only her work partner Matthew Bennell (Donald Sutherland) who seems to take her seriously. He takes her to meet intellectual psychiatrist David Kibner (Leonard Nimoy), who thinks she has convinced herself of this due to a breakdown in communication between her and Geoffrey. Only when Matthew's friend Jack (Jeff Goldblum) discovers a re-animating body of himself at his work, does the truth hit Matthew, and the group, along with Jack's wife Nancy (Veronica Cartwright), flee to escape the alien onslaught.

Anyone who has seen Don Siegel's 1956 original, which was based on Jack Finney's 1955 novel, will know that the plot serves as a metaphorical interpretation of the U.S.'s political attitudes to communism, which they felt was attacking their countries democratic idealism. Philip Kaufman's 1978 remake abandons this intriguing premise in favour of something more straight-laced and old-fashioned. Not that this is a bad thing, as although inferior to Siegel's version, Invasion... is still a highly entertaining horror, that takes its time in the early stages to establish a foundation of impending dread, and to develop the main characters. This was an aspect that was prevalent throughout 1970's horror movies, with respected directors taking on the genre, and bringing their own artistic aesthetics and embedding them on screen.

It is after the first 50 minutes or so when the film seems to abandon this approach to pursue a more relentless, panicked tone, as the film descends into a chase movie. It was this aspect that brought the film down a peg or two for me, as it seemed to almost sell-out on its atmospheric openings, and resort to more action-orientated tactics, with repetitive scenes of fleeing and hiding. Interestingly though, the camerawork shifts from calm and slow-moving, to hand-held and loose just as things get frantic, a similar approach directors Nicolas Roeg and Roman Polanski would take in their masterpieces Don't Look Now (1973) and Chinatown (1974), respectively.

But, like I said earlier, the film is undoubtedly entertaining, and has plenty of homages to the original (stars Robert Duvall and Kevin McCarthy put in cameo appearances - the latter shouting "they're here!" in the street as if wandered over from the climax of the original), and, differently from the novel, stays true to the original's depressing and unresolved ending, the final image now being somewhat iconic in the world of horror. There are plenty of better films from the era of a similar ilk, but Invasion... remains extremely watchable, and unashamedly B-movieish in its execution.


Directed by: Philip Kaufman
Starring: Donald Sutherland, Brooke Adams, Jeff Goldblum, Veronica Cartwright, Leonard Nimoy, Art Hindle
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #509: 'Halloween III: Season of the Witch' (1982)

After the mediocre sequel to John Carpenter's 1978 original, which continued the story of Michael Myers, treading over similar ground, like so many of it's imitators at the time, Carpenter and writing/producing partner Debra Hill would only get involved with a second sequel if it could be a separate story to the already tired Myers slasher. Originally, they had the idea to continue with a feature approach to the Twilight Zone formula of anthology narratives, and these would be set around the themes of the holiday season of its title. The original screenplay was written by British writer, and creator of Quatermass (as well as the haunting The Stone Tape (1973) and the BBC adaptation of Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954) amongst others), but Dino De Laurentiis (one of the films producers) felt that the film required more horrific, contemporary gore scenes. Subsequently, after many alterations, Kneale removed his name from the project.

As it is, the film is incredibly flawed, but has some very interesting notions within it. It was a brave choice to use the Halloween name for something completely different; as I have stated before, the commercial horror fan is a fickle species, and the habit of formula is expected. The third Halloween brings a nefarious plot to destroy the people who celebrate the corporate, consumerist aspects of the holiday; "...the strange custom of having your children wear masks and go out begging for candy," is the indictment of a society that has lost spiritual meaning, forgetting the ritualistic foundations of hallows eve, focusing only on consumption and dressing in costumes. In the opening scene, an old man runs in horror grasping a Halloween mask. Being admitted to a hospital, a suited man (nondescript and corporate) enters and kills him, then burns himself alive in the car park. The mystery is set up, and Dr. Challis (Tom Atkins) and Ellie Grimbridge (Stacey Nelkin) - daughter of the old man), trace the movements of the father, leading them to the Silver Shamrock factory, manufacturer of popular masks.

Set in remote, small town Santa Mira, California (a reference to 1956's Invasion of the Body Snatchers), the ludicrous conspiracy to kill all who watch a television signal that triggers a gruesome death for the wearers of the masks, raises many fundamental contradictions and inconsistencies to the film. It throws in elements from others films, particularly with its allusions to ...Body Snatchers, such as the pointless plot about replacing people with robots - Cochran is a master magician, creating mechanical drones. The evil plan is ultimately unbalanced and ridiculous - what is the purpose of killing the general public, and what purpose would there be in replacing them with robots? Tom Atkins basically reprises his role from The Fog (1980), with Nelkin replacing Jaime Leigh Curtis, and O'Herlihy plays the standard bond-like villain, always happy to tell the protagonist the details of the plan, for the purpose of exposition.

Although the film has it many issues, I have fond memories of the film growing up. A brave attempt to move away from the franchise formula, and an interesting attempt to create a mystical story, and a criticism of modern America's obsession with consumerism, and which also manages to stereotype the Irish. The music, from John Carpenter and Alan Howarth, brings the film into the same atmosphere as the previous films, and also signal a relationship to Carpenter's other projects of the time, and adds to the overall menace that is there in the film. With some advanced gore scenes, the film is in context to the time of production, but whilst I do have affection for the film, I would have preferred to see Kneales version, a script that he himself has said was "one of the best I've ever written." And remember, like it goes incessantly in the Silver Shamrock television commercials, I ad lib: "nineteen more days to Halloween..."


Directed by: Tommy Lee Wallace
Starring: Tom Atkins, Stacey Nelkin, Dan O'Herlihy
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Marc Ivamy

Review #508: 'The Shining' (1980)

Stanley Kubrick's films are consistent in creating indelible images; from the sexualised bare foot, being caressed in the title sequence of Lolita (1962); the ominous sight of the black obelisk in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968); or the mechanical device holding Alex's "glazies" open in A Clockwork Orange (1974), his utter devotion to the image, its composition, complexity, and depth of meaning, leave his films plastered on your memory (Kubrick began his career as a still photographer for Look Magazine in New York). 1980's The Shining left the spectator with some of the most iconic and memorably haunting images in horror cinema (and in general cinema); the Grady girls, serene but disturbing, standing in the hallways of the Overlook Hotel; the blood gushing from the opening in the lifts doors; or Jack's face starring penetratingly through the axe-damaged door announcing, "Here's Johnny!" amongst other memorable imagery. Kubrick's meticulous approach to cinema, in all of it's forms, not only gave the world beautifully constructed images, but he also explored his subjects with such masterful detail, that his body of work reveals further complexity on repeat viewings - quite a unique ability.

Kubrick has a capacity to take a genre (previously a science fiction film in 2001..., a black comedy in Dr Strangelove... (1964), or historical epic in Spartacus (1960)) and strip it of it's overt conventions. Kubrick took a conventional ghost story, with all the visual trappings of the genre, and created a psychologically complex and enigmatic cinematic experience. Stephen King's novel of The Shining (published in 1977), is explicitly mystical in it's approach; for example, topiary animals within the grounds of the hotel come to life to chase characters. The film hides its secrets. What we do know within the film's space is that Danny (Danny Lloyd) - the young son of Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson), who has taken a job at the Overlook hotel, - has some extra sensory power, referred to by Scatman Crothers' Dick Hallorann as 'The Shining' (which is more explicitly explored in the longer US version - something I will come back to). It is eluded to when the Torrance family are shown the grounds of the hotel in the "Closing Day" sequence, that the hotel was built on ancient Indian burial ground, but never really expressly developed further, and also one incident involves supernatural intervention, but is an inescapable plot point.

Kubrick expressed an interested in the subject of ESP and the paranormal, specifically in psychic ability, in an interview with Michel Ciment, and it is this aspect of the story that creates the films many ambiguities. Is it specifically a "haunted" house, or are the psychic abilities of Danny (and possibly Jack?) creating psychic chaos, the rupturing of historic trauma? At the start of the film Jack is interviewed by the manager of the hotel (Stuart Ullman), and he is informed of an horrific event that occurred some years ago. The Grady family were hacked to death by the father/husband Delbert (Philip Stone), who had previously occupied the halls of the hotel, in the same employment position. Jack informs that his wife (Shelley Duvall) would be delighted with this history, being a "confirmed horror addict". Perhaps an apparition of Grady appears to Jack (he only sees "ghosts" when he is facing mirrors), to inform him of his families dysfunction. Is this a ghostly manifestation of the former janitor? A psychic memory brought on by Jack's own extra sensory ability? Or has isolation (or even cabin fever) gripped the increasingly anguished, and frustrated writer ("All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy"), and his own reflection has become a psychological transference of an historical narrative about the hotel? 

The Shining has that Kubrickian sense of ambiguity and imagistic beauty. Along with the beautifully composed shots, the camera itself becomes a haunting, and hypnotic character in the film. The Shining was one of the first films to utilise the recently invented Steadycam (Kubrick of course, went for the source and employed the inventor, Garrett Brown, to operate the camera), which gave the almost constantly moving camera, gliding through the labyrinthine corridors of the hotel. Another indelible image came from this (a now commonplace technique), the camera at a low level, following Danny on his tricycle, moving over wood and carpet, creating an in-camera sound that serendipitously produces impending horror, it's rhythmic pattern evoking fear - we are waiting for those Grady girls around every corner Danny takes.

The use of sound is always an important inclusion to a Kubrick production, and the most important part of this is music. Kubrick is the master of marrying music and image. He worked with composer Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind, and they contributed the main theme, but much of the music was recorded from composite parts of musical pieces by the like of Ligeti and Bela Bartok. The layering of these esoteric compositions, creates throughout the film, absolute terror. The nerve-inducing strings shrill and scream in opposing juxtapositions, and the power of the sound, music and image are elevated when unified. This beautiful combination has led to the film being often cited as one of the greatest "scary" films of all time (Martin Scorsese named it one of his top 11 scary films). The author of the source novel, however, was not happy with the changes made to the narrative, and subsequently all of film and television adaptations of his work, were subject to his control. 

I was surprised to discover only around a month ago, that the version that I grew up with, and was released in Europe, was shorter than the US release. In fact a whole 30 minutes was absent. So I did watch the US version (as well as the "UK" edit), but found it to simply include some rather long scenes, largely dealing with unnecessary exposition involving Danny's relationship with "the boy who lives in my mouth" as he refers to his abilities, and with Jack's recent move to cold turkey after a drunken incident which resulted in violence towards his son. All of this exposition is not at all needed, as they are revealed more implicitly in later scenes. It was after the release in North America that Kubrick was aware that the film was not successful. Therefore, Kubrick re-edited the film, and released it to other territories in the shorter version. This was Kubrick's preferred version, and I have to agree with him. It is a far tighter film, and devolves a few overtly "ghostly" images, including a silly dinner scene with skeletal guests that Duvall sees towards the climax of the film.

The Shining is for me, one of the top five horror films of all time. It's mysteries, ambiguities and atmosphere culminates in a film that is genuinely terrifying. The experience of fright, horror, and fear is exacerbated on repeat viewings. This was the first time in many years that I watched it, and I was scared more than ever before. It's a richness of cinema that makes Kubrick the absolute master of every subject, any genre, and possibly everything that he touched. The very nature of the hypnotic stylistics of this film would leave me to associate it's mesmeric pace, and the camera's ability to hold its subject for long moments, with David Lynch's debut feature film Eraserhead (1977), which was an even more surreal inclusion to the horror genre. I have read that Kubrick saw the film, and was impressed, and The Shining was his next film. I believe Eraserhead could have been an influence - but this is speculation of course. With or without any conjecture of influence, The Shining is an incredibly rich cinematic experience, and has been furnished with many varying and interesting theories. The films ambiguities will be the subject of debate long after we all have disappeared, and that enduring quality means, for me at least, that Kubrick was (and is) the greatest filmmaker to possibly ever work in the medium.


Directed by: Stanley Kubrick
Starring: Jack Nicholson, Shelley Duvall, Danny Lloyd, Scatman Crothers
Country: UK/USA

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy