Sissy Spacek hasn’t appeared in many horror movies but the one in which she did appear is such a classic and Spacek’s performance was so strong that she qualifies as a horror icon regardless. In 1976, Sissy Space played poor and victimized Carrie White, the shy high school student who ended up burning down the prom. Her performance became one of the few horror performances to be Oscar-nominated and Carrie launched a series of Stephen King adaptations.
In one of the best scene from the film, Carrie is forced to deal with both an insensitive principal and a brat on a bicycle.
The 1997 novel, The Rich Girl, tells the story of two teenage friends.
Emma is poor and worried about how her family is going to be able pay for her mother’s medical needs. Sydney is rich and worried that Emma is going to stop being her friend just because she doesn’t like Sydney’s boyfriend, Jason. As you can probably guess, one of these friends has much larger and far more serious concerns than the other but this book is called The Rich Girl and therefore, Sydney is our main character. Sorry, Emma. Only rich people get to star in Fear Street books.
Anyway, Sydney and Emma work at the local movie theater. One night, they come across a duffel bag that someone has been left behind. It’s full of money! In fact, there’s more than enough money to help out Emma’s mother. Sydney wants to turn the money in but Emma points out that her family needs the money and, even more importantly, Emma needs the money. Emma wants to go to college and she wants to finally buy some pretty clothes and she wants her mother to be alive to see her do both. Sydney and Emma decide not to turn in the money but to instead bury it out in Fear Woods. They’ll leave it out there for two weeks and then, it’ll all belong to them! Yay!
Sydney and Emma promise each other that they won’t tell anyone about the money but then Sydney tells Jason. Jason demands a some of the money for himself, though if he could just shut up and be patient, Sydney would eventually have half of the money and everything about their toxic relationship suggests that she would give him however much he wanted. Anyway, all of this all leads to violence and Jason’s apparent death. Sydney and Emma hide Jason’s body but Emma can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching and following her. Could Jason be back from the dead!? Does Zombie Jason want revenge!? Or could it be something else?
This book had a big twist at the end but it was pretty familiar twist and I saw it coming from miles away. I appreciated the kind of dark ending but neither Sydney nor Emma were particularly compelling characters. This one kind of felt like Stine an autopilot.
A mysterious, cloak-wearing serial killer know as Jack The Ripper is stalking the fog-strewn streets and killing prostitutes after asking them if they know the whereabouts of Mary Clark. The newspapers are full of stories about the murders and editorials condemning the failure of Scotland Yard to capture the killer. The citizens of London’s Whitechapel district are resorting to vigilante justice and any stranger is liable to be accused of being the Ripper.
When an American policeman named Sam Lowry (Lee Patterson) shows up in Whitechapel, he is accosted by a group of suspicious citizens. Fortunately, before one of them can stab Sam, he’s saved by his old friend, Scotland Yard’s Inspector O’Neill (Eddie Byrne). Sam explains that he’s come to London to not only help his old friend O’Neill catch the killer but to also study how the city of London has responded to the horror of the Ripper’s crimes. O’Neill introduces Sam to both the world weary coroner, Sir David Rogers (Ewen Solon), and to Anne Ford (Betty MacDowell), the liberal-minded ward of Dr. Tranter (John Le Musurier). As Anne shows Sam around London and speculates about why the Ripper has managed to avoid being caught by the police, O’Neill tries to discover the Ripper’s identity before he can strike again.
As you may have guessed from the plot description, this 1959 film doesn’t exactly stick to the historical fact when it comes to the murders of Jack the Ripper. For instance, the names and the number of victims have been changed and, needless to say, the NYPD didn’t loan any of its detectives to Scotland Yard. Then again, there’s very few films about Jack the Ripper that actually stick to the facts of the case. (Murder By Decree came perhaps the closest, though it still insisted on pushing the ludicrous Royal Ripper theory.) When one watches a Jack the Ripper film, it’s with the understanding that the story is probably going to be fictionalized. Considering that there’s probably no chance of the Ripper’s identity ever being conclusively established, it’s to be expected.
As for the film itself, it actually has quite a few effective moments. The heavy fog and the black-and-white cinematography creates the properly ominous atmosphere and the murders themselves are surprisingly brutal for a film from 1959, leaving no doubt that this film’s Ripper is a cruel sadist regardless of what other motives he may have. The film itself ends with a properly macabre twist. Patterson, Byrne, and MacDowell aren’t particularly interesting in the lead roles (and Patterson’s pompadour looks a bit ludicrous on a Victorian-era policeman) but the suspects, victims, and witnesses are all well-played by a cast of very British character actors.
There are apparently several versions of Jack the Ripper out there. Though the film was a British production, it was filmed with an eye towards the international market and, as a result, there were several different edits depending on what the film could get away with in each country. Apparently, one version actually switched from black-and-white to color whenever blood was spilled and certain European countries got a version that featured a few fleeting moments of nudity. The version edited for American audiences, not surprisingly, doesn’t feature any of that but it’s still a watchable and entertaining Jack the Ripper film.
One final note: my personal opinion is that Jack the Ripper was some guy that no one has ever heard of. He was probably not a doctor. I doubt he was a Freemason. He certainly was not a part of a Royal conspiracy or any of that other nonsense. He may have been a butcher but it’s just as possible that he could have been a hatmaker or a carriage driver or a petty criminal who paid for his drinks through mugging. He was probably never suspected at the time and I imagine he died without ever telling anyone what he had done. People find comfort in conspiracies and elaborate cover-ups but often, the simplest solution is the correct one.
(That said, every time that Jeff and I go to London, we do the Jack the Ripper walking tour. It’s always interesting to hear the weird theories that people come up with.)
In 1993’s Trauma, Dario Argento tells a story of giallo horror, complete with a killer who wears black gloves, a camera that stalks through the streets of a rainy city, and plenty of eccentric red herrings. The story is set and was filmed in Minneapolis, Minnesota, making this one of the two Argento films to be completely shot in America.
Trauma was also the first of Argento’s films to star his daughter Asia Argento. Asia, who was 16 at the time of filming, plays Aura Petrescu, the daughter of Adriana (Piper Laurie) and Stefan (Dominique Serrand). Aura is a bulimic drug addict, with track marks up and down her arms. Having recently escaped from a mental hospital run by the eccentric Dr. Judd (Frederic Forrest), Aura is preparing to jump off a bridge and end her life when she’s grabbed by David (Christopher Rydell). David works as a headline writer and an artist for a local TV news station. David is also a recovering addict who takes sympathy on Aura and buys her breakfast. Aura thanks David by stealing his wallet and running out of the restaurant.
After being caught by the police, Aura is then returned to her home, a baroque mansion where Adriana works as a fake psychic. When Aura arrives, Adriana is preparing for a séance. She’s been hired to contact the spirit of a victim of The Head Hunter, a serial killer who has been chopping off people’s heads in Minneapolis. As a storm rages outside, Aura again flees from the house. Stefan and Adriana chase after her. Soon, while a terrified Aura screams in the rain (in a scene that will remind some of Asia’s mother, Daria Nicolodi, freaking out at the end of Tenebrae), the Head Hunter is holding up what appeas to be the heads of her parents.
Terrified for her life, Aura goes through David’s wallet, finds his number, and calls him. After setting Aura up at his house, David investigates who is chasing her and how those people are connected to The Head Hunter. David also falls in love with Aura and Aura falls for him. Unfortunately, as so often happens in the films of Dario Argento, the world is full of people who don’t care how in love two people are. The people who are after Aura are determined to get her and if that pushes David back into the world of drug abuse, so be it.
Trauma is middle-of-the-road Argento, featuring some scenes that are touched with genius and other scenes that just feel a bit bland. The cast is an interesting mix of veteran performers like Piper Laurie, Frederic Forrest, and Brad Dourif and younger actors like Christopher Rydell and Asia Argento. Dario Argento is known for being a director who prefers for his actors to come in, hit their marks, and deliver their lines with a minimum amount of fuss and he’s complained about American method actors (like Tenebrae’s Anthony Franciosa, with whom Argento had a notoriously difficult relationship) who want to discuss every little detail of their character and their performance. One can only imagine how he handled working with actors as outspoken and creative as Laurie, Forrest, and Dourif. It must be said that those three actors all give memorable performances but none of them seem to be acting in the same film as Rydell and Asia Argento. Rydell and Asia give rather earnest and straight-forward performances while Laurie, Forrest, and Dourif are all a bit more eccentric in the way they interpret their characters. Piper Laurie, in particular, rejects subtlety and delivers her lines with all of the melodramatic force she can summon. (It should be said that this is absolutely the right approach for the character that she’s playing.) That said, it’s Fredric Forrest who truly seems to be on a different planet from everyone else, giving a performance that can only be described as weird. Again, much as with Laurie’s self-aware melodrama, Forrest’s approach works well enough for his odd character, who I assume was named for the Dr. Judd who appears in Cat People.
The most controversial aspect of the film was the casting of Asia Argento as Aura, with some complaining of nepotism and others accusing Dario of exploiting his own daughter. Personally, I think Asia does a perfectly acceptable job in the lead role, even if it’s obvious that she still had room to develop as an actress. At the time the film was made, Asia was herself bulimic and the film’s most powerful scenes are the ones dealing with Aura’s own fragile sense of self-worth. Along with being hunted by a serial killer and having lost her entire entire family, Aura is also an outsider in America. The film paints a portrait of a society that doesn’t care about those living on the fringes. The only person that Aura has to look out for her is David, himself a former resident of the fringe. Christopher Rydell gives a good performance of David, playing him as someone who is trying to do the right thing and protect the victimized, even at the risk of his own sobriety.
(That said, there is one scene in which David receives a panicked phone call from Aura and Rydell’s underreaction suggests that the actor was not informed of just how desperate Asia Argento would sound when she later dubbed in her part of the conversation.)
Argento’s camera glides down dark hallways and through the streets of the city. He films Minneapolis in the same way that many directors would film New Orleans and, as such, the film becomes a vision of Middle America through European eyes. Because there’s a few issues with pacing and some clunky dialogue that was probably due to the Italian script being translated into English, Trauma is not Argento’s best. It’s middle-of-the-road Argento but it remains intriguing, nonetheless.
4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films is all about letting the visuals do the talking.
This October, I am going to be using our 4 Shots From 4 Films feature to pay tribute to some of my favorite horror directors, in alphabetical order! That’s right, we’re going from Argento to Zombie in one month!
Today’s director: James Whale!
4 Shots From 4 James Whale Films
Frankenstein (1931, dir by James Whale, DP: Arthur Edeson)
The Old Dark House (1932, dir by James Whale, DP: Arthur Edeson)
The Invisible Man (1933, dir by James Whale, DP: Arthur Edeson)
Bride of Frankenstein (1935, dir by James Whale, DP: John J. Mescall)
I stood out on the front porch and watched as the sky went from being blue to being dark and gray in a matter of minutes. That was the year that fall came early and almost all the leaves were gone by the end of October. But just as the leaves fell early, so did the storms arrive ahead of schedule. It rained hard during the afternoon and probably panicked everyone looking forward to spending the night collecting candy.
The rain stopped before evening came and that night, costumed searchers and their parents walked up and down the sidewalks, running up to houses and shouting, “Trick or Treat!” I was alone that Halloween so I dressed up like a cat and handed out candy. Everyone was extra grateful because they knew that if the storm had started just an hour later, there would have been no Halloween that year.
“Arm like a mint!” a character exclaims at a key moment in 2021’s The Black Phone and I’ll admit right now that, when I heard that line, I rolled my eyes so violently that I’m lucky that I didn’t lose one of them.
It’s one of those lines that reminds us that we’re watching a movie that’s based on a short story and that the dialogue that works in a piece of literature can often sound awkward and forced when heard on film. It’s a line that, at least for a few moments, took me right out of the movie’s reality and reminded me that I was watching was indeed just a movie.
There’s actually a few moments like that in The Black Phone but, fortunately, there’s more than enough that works about this movie to make up for what doesn’t work.
Taking place in a Denver suburb in 1978, The Black Phone deals with the evil activities of a serial abducted and murderer who is known only as The Grabber (Ethan Hawke). The Grabber (who really should demand a better nickname) has spent years grabbing children off of the street and then holding them prisoner in his basement before killing them. The Grabber drives a van and he usually wears a mask. The mask is creepy but it also tells us something about The Grabber’s personality. Obviously, when he talks the kids into getting into his van (or getting close enough for him to grab them), the Grabber can’t wear his mask so he’s not wearing the mask so he won’t be identified. Instead, he wears the mask as perhaps a way to keep his “normal” life separated from his life as The Grabber. Maybe that’s how this middle-aged man justifies being everyone’s worst nightmare. Perhaps he tells himself that he’s not responsible for what he does when he puts on the mask. Once he puts on the mask, anything bad that happens is the fault of The Grabber.
The Grabber’s latest victim is Finney (Mason Thames). While Finney waits in the basement, his father (Jeremy Davies) struggles with his own alcoholism and his sister, Gwen (Madeleine McGraw), tries to get someone — anyone — to take her psychic visions seriously. Gwen is determined to find and rescue her brother but, early on, the audience realizes that only Finney can save himself. Fortunately, Finney has some help in the form of the ghosts of the Grabber’s other victims, all of whom call Finney on a black phone in the basement. They offer Finney advice on how both to survive and how to fight against The Grabber. Some of the ghosts are angry. Some of them are surprisingly cheerful. All of them are understandably eager to help Finney fight their murderer.
It’s an effective film, even if it does feel a bit overlong. The film is based on a short story and it’s hard not to feel that the story would have been better served by a 30-minute short film than an obviously extended feature film. That said, The Grabber is a genuinely creepy villain and the film leaves you feeling as if anyone in the film could easily become his next victim if Finney doesn’t figure out a way to get out of that basement. Interestingly, by casting the handsome Hawke as a child abducted and murderer and the nervous Jeremy Davies as an imperfect father who wants to do better, the film challenges our assumptions about both characters. The Black Phone is a film that effectively captures the terror of everyday life.
In the 1932 film, White Zombie, Bela Lugosi plays one of his most evil characters.
Lugosi is “Murder” Legendre, a voodoo master who lives on the island of Haiti. He owns a sugar cane mill, one that has an ever-growing amount of workers. All of Legendre’s workers do their work without complaint. Actually, they work without talking at all. Even when one of them falls to his apparent death, the rest continue to work as if they didn’t even notice. Legendre has made himself into a wealthy and feared figure because everyone knows that he has an army of zombies who serve him. He’s not only evil but he’s also someone who enjoys being evil and causing as much trouble as possible. And yet, because his magic is powerful, the island’s rich plantation owners often pay him for favors.
Among those who are willing to pay Murder for his services is Charles Beaumont (Robert W. Frazer), a plantation owner who is in love with Madeleine Short (Madge Bellamy) and jealous of her fiancé, Neil Parker (John Harron). Charles wants Madeleine to love him so Murder gives Charles a potion to slip into Madeleine’s drink. When Madeleine drinks the potion, she appears to die. After her funeral, Charlies and Murder break into her crypt and retrieve Madeleine. Madeleine is now in a state of limbo, not quite alive but also not quite dead. She can still play the piano but she cannot speak and she stares straight ahead with a blank look in her eyes. She is now one of Murder’s zombies. Needless to say, Charles isn’t happy about this and neither is Neil.
Now, one thing I should make clear is that the zombies in White Zombie are more like the zombies of Haitian mythology than the zombies that one would expect to find in a George Romero film. The zombies in White Zombie do not eat human flesh. They’re not in a process of decay. They are not immortal. These zombies are not the walking dead. Instead, they’re brainwashed victims who have been turned into slaves by Murder and his magic potions. Murder uses them to punish his enemies and to work in his mill. As I said at the start of this review, Murder Legendre is one of Bela Lugosi’s most evil characters.
White Zombie is usually considered to be the first feature length zombie film. Though it was released 91 years ago and watching it requires a bit of adjustment on the part of modern viewers, White Zombie still creates and maintains a memorable atmosphere of ominous magic and growing menace. The scenes in Murder’s sugar cane mill are especially strong, with Murder’s zombies silently marching from one task to another. The acting is a bit inconsistent. Watching the film, it’s easy to see that it was made at a time when Hollywood was still making the transition to sound. But the important thing is that Bela Lugosi is absolutely fantastic as the menacing Murder Legendre, smirking as he casts his spell and, in one of the film’s most famous scenes, walking straight towards the camera with an evil gleam in his eyes as if he’s coming straight for the audience. Flaws aside, White Zombie features one of Bela Lugosi’s best performances and is more than worth watching for that reason alone.
The 1974 film Silent Night, Bloody Night is an oddity.
On the one hand, it’s pretty much a standard slasher film, complete with a menacing mansion, a horrible secret, a twist ending, and John Carradine playing a mute newspaper editor.
On the other hand, director Ted Gershuny directs like he’s making an underground art film and several of the supporting roles are played by actors who were best known for their association with Andy Warhol.
Personally, I like Silent Night, Bloody Night. It has a terrible reputation and the film’s star, Mary Woronov, has gone on record calling it a “terrible movie” but I like the surreal touches the Gershuny brought to the material and the sepia-toned flashbacks have a nightmarish intensity to them. The film makes no logical sense, which actually makes it all the more appealing to me. As the saying goes, your mileage may vary.
What’s an Insomnia File? You know how some times you just can’t get any sleep and, at about three in the morning, you’ll find yourself watching whatever you can find on cable or streaming? This feature is all about those insomnia-inspired discoveries!
If you were having trouble getting to sleep last night, you could have jumped on Tubi and watched a film from 1967 called Hillbillys In A Haunted House and it would have put you right to sleep.
Hillbillys In A Haunted House has some big names in the cast but, unfortunately, none of them get to do much. Instead, the main characters are country singer Woody Wetherby (Ferlin Husky), his partner Boots Malone (a very pointy Joi Lansing), and their road manager, Jeepers (Don Bowman). When we first see them, they’re driving to Nashville and even worse, they’re singing about the fact that they’re driving to Nashville. They’re scheduled to perform in “the Jamboree.” However, after they’re delayed by a bunch of cops having a shoot out with two spies, Boots announces that Jeepers is a nervous wreck and that they really need to stop and rest for the night.
Unfortunately, they’re in the town of Sleepy Junction and there’s not much to Sleepy Junction because everyone in town recently moved to Acme City. As a result, there are no hotels or motels in Sleepy Junction. But there is a big, deserted mansion that is rumored to be haunted. With a storm approaching and Jeepers’s nerves even more on edge then before, they head to the mansion. At the mansion Woody sings a song and then some neighbors stop by and they all sing another song. Are you getting the feeling that there’s a lot of singing in this movie? You’re right, there is. It’s all studio-perfect singing too. Woody lip-syncs like a pro.
Anyway, the mansion is also being used by four spies, played by Basil Rathbone, John Carradine, a hulking Lon Chaney, Jr., and Linda Ho. The four of them live in the surprisingly clean basement of the mansion. Living with them is a gorilla. The spies planning on stealing a formula for rocket fuel from Acme City but first they need to do something about the hillbillys that are currently in the haunted house. Carradine and Rathbone try to scare them out with some remote control ghost action. Jeepers may be a coward and Woody may be a redneck and Boots may have atrocious taste in clothes but all three of them are Americans and they’re not going to stand for any spy nonsense!
If you think it sounds like this was stupid, you’re right. Carradine and Rathbone both struggle to maintain a straight face. Poor Lon Chaney Jr. often appears to be out of breath. There’s way too much singing. Seriously, couldn’t the hillbillies have just driven another few miles to Acme City and found a hotel?
The film will put you to sleep, though. It has its uses.
Through the Shattered Lens 