(1959)
Dir - Roger Corman
One of Roger Corman's legendarily rushed productions that has managed to have a lasting appreciation, A Bucked of Blood was filmed in five days and for $50,000. Introducing Dick Miller's character of Walter Paisley to the world, (a name given to a number of working class schlubs that the actor would cameo as throughout his career), the film takes an unbiased look at beatnik culture while maintaining a clever and comedic tone with its macabre subject matter. Miller is great as the dim-witted protagonist, making him consistently lovable even though he is technically a serial murderer. Corman was allegedly nervous about venturing into more humorous terrain for the first time here, but it proved enough of a success to memorably creep into further entries in his directorial filmography, including Little Shop of Horrors and The Raven.
Dir - Roger Corman
One of Roger Corman's legendarily rushed productions that has managed to have a lasting appreciation, A Bucked of Blood was filmed in five days and for $50,000. Introducing Dick Miller's character of Walter Paisley to the world, (a name given to a number of working class schlubs that the actor would cameo as throughout his career), the film takes an unbiased look at beatnik culture while maintaining a clever and comedic tone with its macabre subject matter. Miller is great as the dim-witted protagonist, making him consistently lovable even though he is technically a serial murderer. Corman was allegedly nervous about venturing into more humorous terrain for the first time here, but it proved enough of a success to memorably creep into further entries in his directorial filmography, including Little Shop of Horrors and The Raven.
(1975)
Dir - Bryan Forbes
Dropping three years before Philip Kaufman's exceptional Invasion of the Body Snatchers remake, The Stepford Wives specifies its unnerving takeover scenario to the cookie-cutter, upper-class community of its title where all of the women seem to be dutifully preoccupied with superficial immaculateness while the men freely thrive in their respective lifestyles. An eerie premise that stems from Ira Levin's novel of the same name, English director Bryan Forbes crosses the Atlantic to shoot it on location in Connecticut, he and cinematographer Owen Roizman crafting an increasing sense of unease with white pristine mansions, ideal sunlight, and trim and proper housewives straight out of a magazine. Such a feminist nightmare is given a satirical subtext, turning the loss of independence and intellectual pursuits at the behest of domineering misogyny into something that is equally absurd and creepy, especially by the sinister finale which finally pulls the curtain back and one-ups Katharine Ross' growing suspicions.
(1986)
Dir - Stuart Gordon
Tackling yet another somewhat obscure work from H.P. Lovecraft and bringing it to vivid, slimy, and disgusting life, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator follow-up From Beyond reunites him once more with Jeffrey Combs, Barbara Crampton, producer Brian Yuzna, and special effects men John Carl Buechler and John Laulin. Featuring a scientific contraption that enlarges human being's penal glands, makes them horny, and allows for nasty, outer dimensional beings to wreak havoc on our playing turf, it sure has a strange enough premise. While Crampton, Combs, and other B-movie favorite Ken Foree are endlessly fun on camera, the movie is mostly a visual effects smorgasbord of pink, purple, and gooey monstrosities.
(2021)
Dir - Paco Plaza
Easily Paco Plaza's best work since he and Jaume Balaguero's first two REC movies, The Grandmother has a simple premise whose specifics reveal themselves in a user-friendly manner, but it showcases a filmmaker who has been in the horror game steadily enough now to play to the genre's strengths. There are many things that happen here that are creepy, odd, and could be interchangeable with other arbitrarily creepy and odd things, but the pieces stick together enough as to not have the audience question a tale about a recently invalid grandma who is clearly up to some sort of supernatural mojo in order to keep her pretty granddaughter around. Plaza utilizes a reserved yet steadily unsettling approach and Almudena Amor turns in a dynamic performance as a young woman who is mourning the loss of her nearest and dearest family member while simultaneously being batshit terrified of her.
(1990)
Dir - James Bond III
The lone directorial effort from actor James Bond III, (who also wrote, produced, and starred here), Def By Temptation is an accomplished, low-budget New Jack horror film that predates the somewhat similar Tales from the Hood by five years. A simple enough morality tale of Christian goodness overcoming evil in the form of a bewitching vampire/succubus/demon, the on location shooting and rough production values give it a DIY aesthetic that is charming due to the efficient and sinister tone, plus plenty of humor. Samuel L. Jackson cameos in a minor role with Bill Nunn and Kadeem Hardison doing most of the heavy lifting, the latter going beyond his usually exclusive comic relief casting. The main attraction though is author Cynthia Bond as the evil seductress who gets to do her best Linda Blair impression while being consistently sexy and menacing.
(1999)
Dir - Takashi Miike
The first of many horror films from a man who has made more movies than most people would consider possible, Audition is a challenging work from Takashi Miike that abruptly switches tones and delivers one of the most uncomfortable ten minutes of torture ever committed to celluloid. While its most famous/infamous scene can easily put off most viewers, Miike spends more time playing with conventions in service to the disturbing aspects of Ryu Murakami's novel of the same name. Here, a well-meaning yet ignorantly chauvinistic man holds a literal audition to find his next wife, only to develop an unhealthy obsession with the last woman that anyone would ever want to treat in such a fashion. Eihi Shiina makes for a chilling antagonist who would be seen as a feminist antihero of sorts if not for her coldly sadistic acts, but it is this unconventional approach to her character and the film as a whole that makes it so unique.
(2020)
Dir - Patrick Picard
One of the most singular and arguably the most moody of Edgar Allan Poe adaptations, writer/director Patrick Picard's The Bloodhound is a modern day reworking of "The Fall of the House of Usher". Set exclusively at a spacious house with a curious layout and wood paneling everywhere, it is inhabited by twin siblings who have developed a particularly melancholic form of agoraphobia after inheriting their family's wealth. Liam Aiken as the old friend come to visit and Joe Adler as the dreary Roderick Usher stand-in are almost the only two people that we spend the seventy-two minute running time with and they go about their days awkwardly sitting in an ethereal and calm gloom, making small talk, reminiscing, and pontificating on both how life has passed them by and how disconnected the experience is. The plot is left nebulous and the sparse horror elements are likewise never explained, but it is a dreary, funny, and odd examination of loneliness that is expertly delivered by its first time filmmaker.
(1942)
Dir - Erle C. Kenton
The last solid Frankenstein movie from Universal's initial run before the monster mashes took over and pushed things into more unintentionally silly terrain, The Ghost of Frankenstein was also the first in the series to feature a different actor as the creature. Hot off of The Wolf Man, Lon Chaney Jr. made as much sense to put on the green greasepaint and lighting bolt neck sockets as anyone, but without any dialog or character traits, he basically just does the same stumbling shtick that he would do in the handful of Universal's subpar Mummy sequels. Béla Lugosi to the rescue yet again then as the miraculously still alive Igor, who helps to elevate a plot that was officially recycling the ones that came before it with little innovation. Still, director Erle C. Kenton keeps things moving and the franchise had yet to stop taking itself seriously, so its lazy plot contrivances can be forgiven due to some stylish energy being left in the tank.
(1972)
Dir - Vincente Aranda
Out of all of the film's based either loosely or explicitly on Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla, none have more of a blatantly feminist agenda than The Blood Spattered Bride. A few of the typical Euro-horror tropes are present, (lousy dubbing, awful and inappropriate music, nonsensical set pieces), but many others are showcased deliberately to set this up as a broad empowerment vehicle for women. Coming of age Maribel Martín is both aroused and traumatized by her husband's advances while he and a town doctor each dismiss her "hallucinations" while growing frustrated with her. Meanwhile, the enigmatic vampiress Carmilla/Mircala, (British actress Alexandra Bastedo), embodies a violent, erotic, and extreme revenge fantasy towards chauvinistic oppression. Director Vincente Aranda paces the film better than many of its kind, increasing the aloof tension between the newlywed couple with head-scratching scenes like a woman buried on a beach with a scuba diving mask on, per example.
(1990)
Dir - Ron Underwood
A throwback giant monster B-movie with the added and splendid ingredient of likeable characters and humor that actually lands, Tremors ended up spawning a franchise as hefty as the subterranean slug creatures that it features. The full-length directorial debut from Ron Underwood, (who was working as a National Geographic documentarian at the time), he and screenwriters S. S. Wilson and Brent Maddock originally concocted a story called "Land Sharks" in the early 80s, the title of which was changed to avoid confusion with the famous SNL sketch of the same name. Getting an acceptable amount of mileage out of the PG-13 rating with some occasional profanity and gore, the practical effects are fantastic and the simple survival plot has an abundance of lighthearted yet suspenseful moments.
(1949)
Dir - Thorold Dickinson
The classy and understated The Queen of Spades is an intense cautionary film about all-consuming ambition and one that is haunting in all of the right ways. An adaptation of Alexander Pushkin's short story of the same name, it lingers little on supernatural elements, though they nevertheless play prominently in the motivation of Anton Walbrook's Captain Herman Suvorin. By focusing both on Russian aristocratic society and lowly companions and military officers, we are shown the juxtaposition of both comfort and power between the two, which drives certain characters to put paramount importance on what may be perpetually just out of their grasp. Lavishly and atmospherically shot by Czech cinematographer Otto Heller and directed with a slowly escalating aura of suspense by Thorold Dickinson, it falls into the quasi-horror category which rewards those with more patience for the inevitable chills.
The classy and understated The Queen of Spades is an intense cautionary film about all-consuming ambition and one that is haunting in all of the right ways. An adaptation of Alexander Pushkin's short story of the same name, it lingers little on supernatural elements, though they nevertheless play prominently in the motivation of Anton Walbrook's Captain Herman Suvorin. By focusing both on Russian aristocratic society and lowly companions and military officers, we are shown the juxtaposition of both comfort and power between the two, which drives certain characters to put paramount importance on what may be perpetually just out of their grasp. Lavishly and atmospherically shot by Czech cinematographer Otto Heller and directed with a slowly escalating aura of suspense by Thorold Dickinson, it falls into the quasi-horror category which rewards those with more patience for the inevitable chills.
(1973)
Dir - Luigi Batzella/Joe D'Amato
One of many Gothic European horror outings directly inspired by Hammer and Roger Corman films, The Devil's Wedding Night offers boatloads of gloomy atmosphere to go along with its typically campy components. Star Mark Damon got the project underway and it was shot on location at the Castello Piccolomini castle in Balsorano, Italy with both Luigi Batzella and Joe D'Amato sharing directing duties. The gimmick of Damon playing identical twins is convincingly realized for the time and Italian scream queen Rosalba Neri nicely chews up the scenery as the vampire countess. While the script is low on plot points, it is wonderfully moody with a satisfactory amount of exploitation value and even for then, some quality old school spookiness.
(1965)
Dir - Harvey Hart
A rejected television pilot-turned-barely-feature-length-film, Dark Intruder is an expertly Gothic throwback that would have made a solid series if it had gotten picked up. Shot by Alfred Hitchcock's TV production crew, NBS sold it to Universal for theatrical release, which is fitting since it recalls the black and white, doom and gloom aesthetic of the studio's famous monster movies which were already some decades old by this time. Leslie Nielsen heads a solid cast as an endlessly witty occult excerpt who teams up with the police chief in 1890 San Fransisco in order to get to the bottom of a string of violent murders that are being committed by an animistic assailant in Mr. Hyde attire. Though several side characters are set up for what would have been future use, it works wonderfully as a brisk and self-contained bit of macabre fun.
(1959)
Dir - William Castle
Vincent Price suffering an acid trip, telling the audience to "scream for their lives", and fighting off a rubber lobster on visible wires, The Tingler is one of the most ridiculous entries in his filmography, wonderfully so. Reuniting many of the personnel from the same year's House on Haunted Hill, (including director/producer/showbiz wizard William Castle, screenwriter Robb White, composer Von Dexter, and of course Price), the film is synonymous with its theater gimmick of "Percepto", (vibrating seats), staged nurses for also staged/fainting filmgoers, and a moment where the lights go off in conjunction with the movie-within-a-movie. This is also a precursor to body horror and features a blood red "color" sequence which was achieved by painting Judith Evelyn as well as the entire set in black and white tones. All in all, it is Castle at his macabre, Barnum and Baily best.
Vincent Price suffering an acid trip, telling the audience to "scream for their lives", and fighting off a rubber lobster on visible wires, The Tingler is one of the most ridiculous entries in his filmography, wonderfully so. Reuniting many of the personnel from the same year's House on Haunted Hill, (including director/producer/showbiz wizard William Castle, screenwriter Robb White, composer Von Dexter, and of course Price), the film is synonymous with its theater gimmick of "Percepto", (vibrating seats), staged nurses for also staged/fainting filmgoers, and a moment where the lights go off in conjunction with the movie-within-a-movie. This is also a precursor to body horror and features a blood red "color" sequence which was achieved by painting Judith Evelyn as well as the entire set in black and white tones. All in all, it is Castle at his macabre, Barnum and Baily best.
(2020)
Dir - Justin G. Dyck
One would hardly think that a writer/director team behind several Lifetime Christmas movies would deliver an equally funny and disturbing occult-fueled demonic pregnancy film, yet that is where Anything for Jackson comes in to prove us wrong. The Canadian duo of Justin G. Dyck and Keith Cooper spent several years on the project which offers up an inventive slant on the age-old concept of normal everyday people biting off more than they can chew with a centuries old grimoire. Sheila McCarthy and Julian Richings' grandparent characters are adorably ignorant, coldly determined, and sympathetic all at once, despite their Hell-unleashing via kidnapping actions. Dyck expertly balances a tone that is comedic in the darkest sense as far as the subject matter goes, but he also stages some wonderfully creepy set pieces and a fiendish finale that showcases the true folly of Satan's followers.
(2021)
Dir - Valdimar Jóhannsson
Challenging in its on-paper absurdity, Lamb is a modern day Icelandic folktale that simmers with unease as it plays itself both heartfelt and straight. The full-length debut between director Valdimar Jóhannsson and screenwriter/poet Sjón, its unhurried pace allows us to seep into the mundane life of a farming couple who is revealed to have lost their child at some point earlier, only for them to rekindle their parenthood through otherworldly forces. Viewer's may demand answers immediately to what is a ridiculous situation, but Jóhannsson and his small cast keep all unintentional humor miles away from the proceedings, instead slamming home a type of touching story about coping with loss and the impending doom of healing through artificial means that fate has no intention of upholding.
(1958)
Dir - Gene Fowler Gr.
"Aliens walk among us" movies were a dime a dozen in the 1950s, yet one that creepily stands out with a sensationalized title was Paramount's I Married a Monster from Outer Space. It is easy to condense many of the sci-fi films from that era to merely being metaphors for red scare paranoia, so while elements of this can still be found here, it is much more about the fear of domesticated married life. The male characters routinely lament their bachelorhood while spending time away from home at their local bar, while the women seem to be bating themselves to get hitched before the clock runs out. The idea of "living with a monster" takes on more direct meaning then, where the extraterrestrial invasion manifests itself in what could be seen as natural human apprehension and resentment.
(1981)
Dir - Frank De Felitta
Possibly the best television horror film from the 1980s, Dark Night of the Scarecrow turns small town paranoia and ignorance into a creepy EC comics comeuppance tale of revenge. Written by J.D. Feigelson as an intended theatrical feature, it instead aired on CBS, appropriately around Halloween time no less. The cast is made up of recognizable character actors such as Charles Duning, Lane Smith, and Larry Drake, with director Frank De Felitta squeezing the tension out of every possible set piece. Though it was made in a technically sterile TV format and could seem dated in the heyday of gore-ridden slashers, it is a wonderfully spooky alternative to such things while still providing a satisfactory amount of memorable death sequences.
(1968)
Dir - Freddie Francis
Terence Fisher stepped away from Hammer's Dracula series for the first time with Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, a direct sequel to 1966's Dracula: Prince of Darkness that was instead helmed by famed cinematographer Freddie Francis. Due to Francis' keen eye, the film is visually exceptional, with eerie and colorful lighting decorating some rooftop sets as well as the outside of the undead Count's mountain castle. Though Christopher Lee was given a minimal amount of dialog to go with his equally minimal amount of scenes, he still makes a ferocious presence with blood-shot eyes and a ravenous appetite for both Veronica Carlson and Barbara Ewing's bosoms. John Elder's script throws in a new angle that one has to conduct a prayer when staking a vampire lest they just writhe around in pain instead of properly "dying", which along with Barry Andrews' dashing hero being an intellectual atheist, brings in a faith component for the first time in the franchise.
(1989)
Dir - Georg Tressler
A strange folktale brought to equally strange life by German television director Georg Tressler, Sukkubus pits three isolated cattle herders against a malevolent, naked, supernatural woman of their own creation. Half of the movie is dedicated solely to the lonely plight of the rough 'n tough characters who spend their days monotonously tending to their duties while praising Jesus and trying to fight back their pent-up sexual aggression. Once they give into such tendencies on a night of alcohol-fueled tomfoolery, a "doll" made of wood and straw comes to life when one of them cannot keep his ding-a-ling from erupting. Based on the Swiss fairy tale "The Guschg Herdsmen's Doll", Tressler captures the gorgeous scenery while creating a suspenseful tone, even as little technically happens. Once things kick into gear though, it moves into absurdism and becomes a rustic, horny, and disturbed nightmare.
(1963)
Dir - Reginald Le Borg
This adaptation of French author Guy de Maupassant's novel The Horla here titled Diary of a Madman not only gave Ozzy Osbourne the title for his second solo album, but also serves as one of the many solid genre films that Vincent Price stared in during his horror icon heyday. Price gives a much less camp-fueled performance than usual as the doomed magistrate Simon Cordier who comes over the seemingly unstoppable manipulation of an exclusively evil and invisible entity. Typical for the era, this is low on creepiness and gore, but it does have a few gruesome moments like a beheaded woman becoming immortalized in clay. Some religious elements randomly creep their way in near the end, but the finale is still satisfactory where Price outsmarts his sinister overlord in a manner that almost every horror movie of the era was required to have, meaning a building going up in flames.
(2004)
Dir - Masayuki Ochiai
Along with Norio Tsuruta's Premonition which was released on the same day, Infection was the other film that kickstarted producer Takashige Ichise's J-Horror Theater series. Written and directed by Masayuki Ochiai, it combines the tropes of a creepy hospital with that of a mind-melting, (literally), narrative where things grow increasingly off the rails for all characters involved. Ochiai essentially explores what would happen with a psychological virus or at least what would happen with maybe only one person suffering from some form of mental infliction that manifests itself as a psychological virus. Along the way, the color red turns to green which makes people's blood look like puss-like ooze and various characters talk to ghosts, mutilate themselves, and become obsessed with cockamamie schemes that in hindsight, only a disturbed mind would indulge in. The film is more a series of fun, spooky, and gore-ridden scenes than it is a thought-provoking essay, yet this is also hardly a problem.
(2012)
Dir - Christopher MacBride
On occasion, a found footage entry can be so narratively compelling that it allows for an audience to forgive the sub-genre's lack of plausibility. This is such the case in Christopher MacBride's faux-documentary The Conspiracy, which answers the question of "What would a horror movie based off of Bohemian Grove look like?". For the first two acts, the long-overdue premise is grounded enough, seamlessly intermingling both actors and real life conspiracy theorists as well as the cliches associated with such things. It is all done in a fully edited, fully scored, presumably released documentary framework with a last act that asks too much to swallow. Yet at the same time, the final thirty minutes are the most intense and chilling. Even with a deflating epilogue, it still produces a ghoulishly heart-racing result and possibly even raises some questions for those who want to go down the real world rabbit hole that is dramatized here.
(2023)
Dir - Brandon Cronenberg
Improving still on his already consistent body of work, Brandon Cronenberg's third full-length Infinity Pool sees a further examination of his themes where doomed individuals lose their morals due to an overexposure of corruption and violence. Alexander Skarsgård's protagonist is a pathetic bloke from the moment that we meet him; a failed novelist who married rich and seeks inspiration in an upscale resort of all places, only to be taken on a bloody and disturbed joy ride by bougies tourists who exploit him as much as they do the foreign customs and laws of their surroundings. The excess here is not glorified, deliberately so as a series of murders, orgies, and substance-fueled depravity only pushes an already spineless character to the point of numbness. Both Skarsgård and Mia Goth turn in tour de force performances and Cronenberg's visual eye remains trippy and expressive, leaving the audience with an exhausted, nihilistic, and sickening feeling that is every bit as horrific as the movie itself is.
(1973)
Dir - Claudio Guerín Hill/Juan Antonio Bardem
Notorious for resulting in the death of its director Claudio Guerín Hill who fell from the bell tower which appears in the film, The Bell from Hell is a unique and slow boil oddity for its time. As far as horror movies were concerned, early 70s Spain was primary focused with their own flavor of Italian giallos as well as Paul Naschy werewolf vehicles. The low-key results here play to little genre-pandering though, plus familiar details like being walled-up alive and a ghastly revenge death right out of The Abominable Dr. Phibes are skewed by their deliberate tone. French actor Renaud Verley makes for an off-setting and complex anti-hero, smirking his way through each situation as his alleged "madness" frequently comes into question. Hill and replacement director Juan Antonio Bardem maintain a tight control over the proceedings with sparse dialog, even sparser incidental music, and an almost frustrating open ending that further slams home the movie's quietly disturbed aesthetics.
(2007)
Dir - Robert Rodriguez
More of a companion piece to their early collaboration From Dusk till Dawn than to Quintin Tarantino's fellow-Grindhouse full-length Death Proof, Robert Rodriguez' Planet Terror is his contribution to said double-feature and is as gleefully absurd of an exploitation zombie throwback as has ever been made. Rodriguez initially had the idea way back in 1998 before the market got over-saturated with walking corpse movies, but even if it inevitably comes off as redundant for 2007, there is more than enough outrageous style here to applaud. Similar to the aforementioned Death Proof, the film is loaded with digital film print scratches and has a convenient "missing reel" to cover up some loose plotting, but as a deliberately trashy genre mash-up of action, horror, sci-fi, and comedy, it is impossible not to fall in love with all of the puss-fueled mayhem as well as Rose McGowan playing an aspiring stand-up comedian go-go dancer with a machine gun leg that works without pulling a trigger and never needs to be reloaded.
(1983)
Dir - John Carpenter
The only Stephen King adaptation from John Carpenter, Christine was a bit of a commercial comeback for the director whose previous The Thing would go onto become a much lauded, yet at the time was a failure at the box office. One of a handful of King's premises that is difficult to take seriously on paper, Carpenter throws in some sly humor with on-the-nose use of rock songs, knowingly having some fun with the material. Even these moments have an appropriate aura of unease though as the 1958 Plymouth Fury becomes an unstoppable revenge machine and a character all its own. Keith Gordon delivers a disturbed performances as the picked-on dweeb who becomes entranced under the title automobile's diabolical spell and overall, the movie has the same moody and tightly paced dread that Carpenter was known for.
(1940)
Dir - Joe May
Launched into production after the box office success of Son of Frankenstein proved that audiences were still clamoring for more monster movie sequels, The Invisible Man Returns was another solid follow-up for Universal. Only the fourth screen appearance from Vincent Price and his first starring role, he is less diabolical than Claude Rains' Dr. Jack Griffin, yet still turns in a wonderfully mad and raving performance even as his character leans more on the sympathetic side. The film may lack the quirky charm of James Whales' original, but the script from Lester K. Cole and Universal's go-to screenwriter Curt Siodmak takes more of a revenge angle that differentiates itself from its predecessor. Austrian director Joe May keeps the pace from dragging as well, plus the special effects are on par for the era.
(2000)
Dir - Takashi Shimizu
The first in the ever-expanding Grudge franchise, Takashi Shimizu's Ju-On: The Curse remains one of the most effective SOV horror films ever made. Though it is technically shot on digital video and ergo is a few notches above the horrendously low-rent visual aesthetics of the 1980s boom of camcorder cheapies, this is still an unpolished affair by conventional standards. That said, Shimizu maintains an impressive level of creepiness throughout, all in spite of the downgraded quality. As is common in the series, it is told out of sequence, though this is not a detriment as it merely emphasizes the "evil is everywhere" motif of a traumatic and violent death causing a supernatural stain that effects everyone who comes in proximity with it, regardless of what timeline they are maneuvering through. Pale faced, wide-eyed ghosts, and creaky cat noises coming out open mouths can still be chalked up to arbitrary ghostly shenanigans, but even in its primitive form here to get things started, it delivers the chills.
(1935)
Dir - Karl Freund
The final directorial effort from legendary cinematographer Karl Freund doubles as the best screen adaptation of Maurice Renard's novel The Hands of Orlac. Here titled Mad Love, the focus is switched from the doomed concert pianist to the insane doctor who performed the diabolical experiment on him, which is a wonderful change in that Peter Lorre takes on the latter role. His first lead in America, Lorre is his textbook creepy and impish self and gets to go full stark-raving maniac in the final set piece. This serves as Colin Clive's only other horror appearance outside of Universal's first two Frankenstein movies, though he takes a backseat to Lorre's scene-stealing turn. Shot by both Chester A. Lyons and Gregg Toland, (with Freund allegedly dictating the camera as well), it has an excellent and gloomy German Expressionist look and feel.
(1973)
Dir - Dan Curtis
Taking the minimal effort, "If it ain't broke..." approach, The Night Strangler was a carbon-copy sequel to the previous year's wonderful The Night Stalker, which continued with the season long series Kolchak: The Night Stalker. Dan Curtis returned as producer as did Richard Matheson as the screenwriter, with Curtis getting behind the director's chair himself. Script wise, Darren McGavin once again annoys his editor, gets himself arrested and threatened by the police, has his story squandered, and gets thrown out of town as another serial murder drains his victims of blood. Several references are made to the similarities between this and the previous film, plus the comedy angle is played up more, particularly between McGavin and Simon Oakland's Tony Vincenzo. Forgoing the direct vampire route, Matheson concocted something much weirder; a Civil War doctor living in the Seattle Underground who emerges every twenty-one years to produce another elixir of life.
(2022)
Dir - David Cronenberg
Coming after a lengthy break from his career-making body horror, David Cronenberg dusted off a project that was set to shoot nearly two decades earlier and the resulting Crimes of the Future, (not to be confused with his second full-length of the same name), serves as a greatest hits of the filmmaker's most famous motifs. Set in an undisclosed future where human evolution has ushered in surgical performance art, bureaucratic organ registration agencies, and an underground movement of plastic eaters, it concerns all of the things that Cronenberg's early work fixated on. Namely, this is the advancement of the human body and how it directly relates to technology, as well as the psychological and sexual repercussions of that advancement. This makes for a society that literally does not feel pain anymore yet gets their emotional kinks out elsewhere, spearheading a future for mankind that is only disturbing to the ones who do not embrace it.
(1966)
Dir - Terrence Fisher
It took eight years for Christopher Lee to put the cape and fangs back on, (plus some wicked red contact lenses this time), in another Hammer vampire production, but the resulting Dracula: Prince of Darkness stands as the studio's finest sequel to their initial Horror of Dracula. Though Lee barely spoke in the first film and would have limited lines throughout the series, he utters not a word here, instead relying on ferocious sexuality and reawakened bloodlust. Eerily shot by cinematographer Michael Reed, Hammer regulars Andrew Keir, Philip Latham, and Barbara Shelley are also fine additions, plus Terrence Fisher's always stead hand from behind the lens stages some grisly scenes like Lee's resurrection through upside-down victim's throat-slash and Shelley's ravenous live staking.
(2022)
Dir - Ti West
Pitching a franchise to A24 in the middle of shooting X in New Zealand during the COVID-19 pandemic, Ti West took advantage of the opportunity and filmed the prequel Pearl immediately afterwards. A superior work to not just its predecessor but every other genre entry that West has done thus far, this one benefits exponentially from Mia Goth's more collaborative involvement. Not only did Goth co-write the screenplay, but she also delivers a showstopping performance as the title character; a disturbed farm girl with big dreams that are both perpetually out of her grasp and only fuel her deep-seated aggression. Goth is a tragic psychotic here and a fascinating one to watch, plus West dips into throwback Hollywood spectacle in the presentation, which only enhances the movie's demented agenda.
(1974)
Dir - Paul Maslansky
The only directorial effort from producer Paul Maslansky, Sugar Hill is also one of a small number of American International Pictures' blaxploitation horror films made when the sub-genre was in full swing. Marki Bey stands-in for Pam Grier and though she seems more flirtatious and well-humored than traumatized by her man's death at the hands of Robert Quarry's odious gangster, she still makes a fitting and strong-willed lead. Quarry was AIP's go-to bad guy at the time and he lives up to his reputation here; a racist scumbag who gets his comeuppance when Bey enlists the supernatural vengeance powers of the delightfully scenery-chewing Don Pedro Colley. Tim Kelly's plot is rudimentary enough to write itself, but besides the solid performances, the silver-eyed zombies look great, there are plenty of ghastly death sequences, and "Supernatural Voodoo Woman" by The Originals continues the trend of banger blaxploitation jams.
(1971)
Dir - Bernard McEveety
The second theatrically released film from veteran television director Bernard McEveety, (and his only work in the horror genre), The Brotherhood of Satan is one of the better low-budget occult films that were made in frequent number post-Rosemary's Baby. The movie's success is due to a winning combination of restraint and bizarreness. Hardly any incidental music is utilized, which makes the occasional, sparse, minor key nursery rhyme more chilling than silly when it does color the proceedings. Elsewhere, still silence, wind noise, and some ominous chanting provide an eerie soundtrack that also has plenty of fog and jarring set pieces that snap the viewer out of the subdued spell. The premise itself is unsettling and it has a bleak finale in keeping with the time period where independent filmmakers were moving further away from mere drive-in crowd pleasers, so this is more effectively sinister and lingering than your average exploitation cheapie.
(2019)
Dir - Jayro Bustamante
Various horror films have come and gone since the genre's inception that involve the Weeping Woman, (Latin America's folklore spirit of vengeance), but none are given such a sobering treatment than Guatemalan filmmaker Jayro Bustamante's La Llorona. Favoring long takes, slow zoom-outs, and an oppressive atmosphere, Bustamante centers the movie around the trial of a now-elderly and ill, former dictator who is accused of genocide against the native Mayan people. The complete absence of humor and bypassing of cheap horror tropes renders the movie something far more harrowing as it examines the traumatic effects of complacency amongst a broken family that has no other choice but to stand beside their disgraced patriarch. On top of the brooding supernatural presence, these effects manifest themselves via horrific nightmares and the emotionally neutered way that the characters deal with their hopelessly frustrating situation, proving that there are no winners amongst either the dead or the living when justice fails to heal unforgivable atrocities.
(1972)
Dir - Robert Young
One of the wackiest Hammer films that was both unique and superior to their later day Dracula sequel output, Vampire Circus delivers on its catchy title. Many of the production house's hallmarks are present, particularly in the twelve-minute opening sequence which utilizes every "angry villager segueing a blood-sucking nobleman's castle" cliche there is. This was during Hammer's more exploitative period where nudity, gore, and overall shock value was upped to compete with other genre movies from the era and in this respect, it is a more hyper-sexualized work. Done on a shoestring budget and shut down before completion, there are a few plot holes present that were unavoidable, but goofy, exaggerated vampire faces and bizarre set pieces certainly make up for it.
(1959)
Dir - Fernando Méndez
The best collaboration between director Fernando Méndez and screenwriter Ramón Obón as well as one of the strongest offerings from Mexico's golden age of horror, The Black Pit of Dr. M pulls off a barrage of macabre ideas. A doctor who is hellbent on cheating death, seances, a brutal hanging, corporeal spirits from beyond the grave, a murderous gypsy in an insane asylum, a doomed love triangle, a doctor turned deformed lunatic, body switching, a guy on fire; it all comes together in a tightly-scripted, "defying the laws of life and death" cautionary tale. Most of Mexico's genre films from the era strictly adhered to the motifs of Universal's famed monster movies and this one achieves that tone and those visual aesthetics in spades, with endlessly expressive camerawork and an atmosphere of pure dread.
(1973)
Dir - Bill Gunn
It is a testament to playwright/actor-turned filmmaker Bill Gunn's adventurous abilities from behind the lens that he took the opportunity presented to him by independent production company Kelly-Jordan Enterprises to make a "black vampire film" on the cheap and instead concocted an experimental and expressive look at spirituality, addiction, and African American assimilation. Loose and improvisational in feel with avant-garde sensibilities that skew traditional narrative, Ganja & Hess defies genre classification and hits on vivid emotions without telling a fully fleshed-out story. Both Duane Jones and Marlene Clark are excellent in the title roles, with their romantic relationship being more visceral than logically conveyed, ultimately bringing their blood consumption and passion to a place of connecting with one's nature and a higher Christian power of redemption. A heavy work in any capacity, it is unlike any vampire movie ever made, save for Spike Lee's often note-for-note, 2014 remake Da Sweet Blood of Jesus.
(2017)
Dir - Can Evrenol
Making his English-speaking debut after the grotesque nightmare that was Baskin, Turkish filmmaker Can Evrenol chose to double down on his Mario Bava and Lucio Fulci worship with Housewife. That is to say that logical coherency and plausible dialog are not on the menu in place of icky gore, blatant exploitation, and a recklessly blasphemous story that makes it up as it goes along. Clémentine Poidatz looks like she could be Dario Argento's twin sister and plays a woman that witnessed her nutsoid mother murder her sister and father when she was a child, leaving her frazzled as an adult to say the least. Enter a doomsday cult headed by a slick, dream-entering showman who gives off Frank Mackey bravado and it arrives at a gleefully absurd finale that may be one of the best antichrist unveilings in cinema history.
(1943)
Dir - Lew Landers
The last top-billed, staring role for Béla Lugosi before he would be delegated to finish out his career with bit parts in more Poverty Row movies, Columbia Pictures' appropriately titled The Return of the Vampire can be seen as an unofficial Dracula sequel and an excellent one at that. Also notable for featuring the very first talking wolfman for what it is worth, this has plenty of spooky atmosphere and a more clever script than Universal's standard monster mash-ups of the era, with World War II bombings for one thing playing heavily on the plot. While the B-level cast is sufficient, this is really a triumph for Lugosi who gets one last chance to portray a suave, deadly European vampire in a serious and respectable fashion. Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein would happen five years later where Lugosi would still effectively play it mostly straight, but he is an imposing main attraction here.
(1971)
Dir - Piers Haggard
Another notable early folk horror outing along with Michael Reeve's Witchfinder General and Robin Hardy's The Wicker Man was The Blood on Satan's Claw by Piers Haggard. Originally conceived as a Victorian era anthology film by screenwriter Robert Wynne-Simmons, the setting was switched to 18th century rural England and the story was streamlined into a single narrative. While it feels jumbled at times because of this and never properly broadens any of its multitude of characters, Haggard and cinematographer Dick Bush make great use out of the Chiltern Hills setting, shooting in low angles and using abandoned buildings that are lost to time and ripe for supernatural tomfoolery. Many of the plot points are odd, but they also compliment the movie's unholy uniqueness. Plus a Doctor Who companion (Wendy Padbury) and a Doctor Who villain (Anthony Ainley) both show up so you cannot complain there.
(2023)
Dir - Pablo Larraín
After churning out a few comparatively straight-faced biopics, Chilean filmmaker Pablo Larraín takes a hilarious left turn with El Conde; a black and white arthouse movie that depicts dictator Augusto Pinochet, (and eventually Margaret Thatcher), as a centuries-old vampires. Beautifully photographed by famed cinematographer Edward Lachman and featuring numerous classical pieces of music that play almost uninterrupted, it has an ethereal presentation even if the skewed material is absurd. Larraín keeps the comedy as dry as can be, presenting everyone on screen as morally bankrupt to some capacity from Jaime Vadell's infamous title character, to his frustrated wife that is waiting for him to bite her, to his bitter children that are waiting to get their mitts on the inheritance, to his backstabbing servant that is also a vampire, to a nun who arrives to implement everyone, clean up the finances, and get them in the hands of the church.
(1953)
Dir - Andre DeToth
A remake to the excellent 1933, Michael Curtiz' directed Technicolor film Mystery of the Wax Museum, House of Wax sees Vincent Price not only in the lead role, but in the lead role that would officially establish him as a mainstay in horror cinema. It is also historically significant for being the first color 3D film from a major studio, maintaining a different cinematic gimmick than the two-color Technicolor one that was used in the original movie. Price of course is marvelous as the doomed yet tragic Professor Henry Jarrod, with grotesque makeup to go along with the somewhat Phantom of the Opera motifs at play. A mute and brutish Charles Bronson is also a hoot and Carolyn Jones makes for an annoying and ditzy gold digger.
(1962)
Dir - Steve Sekely/Freddie Francis
Though it takes as many liberties with its source material as any other cinematic interpretation of anything out there, The Day of the Triffids is less tongue-in-cheek than one would expect and remains an above average drive-in/sci-fi/horror movie for an era in which many were produced. Based on John Wyndham's 1951 novel of the same name, the plot hits the usual post-apocalyptic beats, with some characters looking for a cure, some looking to survive, and others taking hedonistic advantage of a meteor shower that renders nearly the entire population blind and at the mercy of deadly overgrown vegetation. Said monsters are slow moving and silly, but their gargling sound effects are creepy enough and there are some effectively threatening scenes scattered about.
(2022)
Dir - Luca Guadagnino
Tackling horror once again following their exceptional Suspiria remake, filmmaker Luca Guadagnino and screenwriter David Kajganich's Bones and All uses its genre motifs to explore the burden of the outsider and how attractive the pull of connection can be for those who desperately need it. Based off of Camille DeAngelis' 2015 novel of the same name, it mashes the criminal road movie and tragic romance together with a story about "feeders" who are genetically inclined to get their nourishment through less than wholesome means. Guadagnino handles what is ultimately a heartbreaking coming-of-age journey with nuanced stylistic choices that never become overbearing, presenting a grounded yet rich aesthetic that is complimented by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' chill score, as well as wonderful performances from Taylor Russell, Timothée Chalamet, and a scene-stealing Mark Rylance in a pathetically sinister supporting role.
(1974)
Dir - William Girdler
Out of all of the films that intentionally retreaded as much as possible from The Exorcist, American International Picture's blaxploitation offering Abby could be the most interesting if not altogether best. For a film with such inescapably meager production values, it laudably goes for the jugular with a surprisingly sincere tone and committed performances. Several moments in the film are funny without trying to be, but even more of them are disturbingly chilling as a wholesome and likeable family gets besieged by malevolence. The script cleverly fuses conventional Christianity with West African spiritualism and the demonic presence represents a Crowley-esque embracing of promiscuous free will. Director William Girdler may not have had the budget nor the technical skill to artfully elevate the material, but the primitive presentation has a direct and sinister charm to it all the same.
(2014)
Dir - John Erick Dowdle
Though it has its share of narrative clunkiness, John Erick Dowdle's As Above, So Below also has such a bombardment of mystical occult freakiness that makes it is easy to forgive its sillier aspects. Filmed in the actual Catacombs of Paris, the location is fantastic for a horror film let alone a found footage one where characters wear head-mounted cameras that capture their panicked claustrophobia. Downdle and co-producer brother Drew's script is focused on the discovery of the philosopher's stone and is equipped with references to Gnosticisim, Dante's Inferno, and the Knights Templar. It is primarily excessive and creepy window dressing, but there is an endless stream of inventive and hair-raising moments that come at a cruising pace. The movie may aggressively use the "Who would do something this dangerous and scary?" cliche as well as throw about twelve too many jump scares at the audience, but credit where it is due; it is damn terrifying and fun.
(1987)
Dir - Chuck Russell
A solid batch of special effects set pieces and Freddy Kruger still being a menacing presence even with the "Welcome to prime time bitch!" line in tow, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is the best of the franchise's sequels. Both Robert Englund and John Saxon had pitched their own scripts to further the series, but more of Wes Craven's ideas were ultimately used as this sets up a new narrative direction that would be detrimentally elaborated on in future installments. The concept of the remaining descendants of Kruger's murderers all joining together with their own super powers in order to get the better of him in the dream world is a fun one, with popcorn-munching mayhem from front to back. Even with some loose plotting, a convenient expository dialog ghost, and a goofy skeleton fight in a junk yard, new director Chuck Russel keeps all of the pieces together and plays it straighter than one would think possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment