When he was a young boy, Gregory Tudor was traumatized when he witnessed the gangland-style execution of the neighborhood ice cream man. He was retraumatized when he was sent to an insane asylum. Now, Gregory (Clint Howard) has grown up and he’s the ice cream man! Everyone in the neighborhood loves his ice cream but the local kids suspect that he’s using human body parts to get the flavor just right. It turns out that the kids know what they’re talking about.
Ice Cream Man almost feels like a zero-budget precursor to Stranger Things, with the kids knowing what’s happening in their town while the majority of the adults are too self-absorbed to notice. One of the kids is a Macauley Culkin look-alike known as Small Paul (Mikey LeBeau). He comes to admire Gregory and his murderous devotion to ice cream. The movie’s really stupid but it’s clearly not meant to be taken seriously and Clint Howard really throws himself into his role. One thing that makes Ice Cream Man enjoyable is that you know Ron Howard had to sit through it because his brother’s in it.
The most interesting thing about Ice Cream Man is the number of recognizable actors who appear in tiny roles. David Warner is the town’s reverend. David Naughton is a clueless father who is married to Sandahl Bergman. Jan-Michael Vincent is a detective. Olivia Hussey is Gregory’s former nurse. Former baseball player and future senatorial candidate Steve Garvey plays another parent. With the exception of Vincent, it’s hard not to believe that the members of the cast didn’t have anything better to do. Never underestimate the appeal of a quick paycheck.
Clint Howard has said that a sequel is in pre-production. The Ice Cream Man will return.
Originally broadcast in 1985, Into Thin Air is a made-for-TV movie that is based on a true story. It’s film that brings to life the horror of every family’s nightmare. Brian Walker (Tate Donavon) is an intelligent, soft-spoken, and somewhat naive college student in Ottawa. He’s been accepted into a summer writing program in Colorado. As he gets in the van that he will be driving to Colorado, he promises his mother, Joan (Ellen Burstyn), that he’ll call her when he reaches Nebraska and again when he reaches Colorado.
Brian drives away and that’s the last time that Joan ever sees her son. Brian calls from Nebraska and talks to his brother, Stephen (Sam Robards). Joan arrives home just as Stephen is saying goodbye. Brian never calls from Colorado. He has vanished, seemingly into thin air.
Joan, Stephen, and Joan’s ex-husband, Larry (played the great character actor Nicholas Pryor) travel to America to search for him. At one point, Stephen thinks that he’s spotted Brian’s van on the road and chase after it, just to discover that it’s a different van. Joan talks to cops in Nebraska and Colorado and discovers that different jurisdictions don’t work together or share information. As the days pass, Joan keeps hoping that Brian is somehow still alive….
I was about ten minutes into this film when I started sobbing. I pretty much cried through the entire film. Some of that was because I knew that they were never going to see Brian again. Some of that was because of the powerful, heartfelt performances of Ellen Burstyn, Nicholas Pryor, and Sam Robards. Most of it was because this film did such a good job of capturing the feeling of hopelessness and the dread that comes with not knowing what has happened to someone who you love. I found myself crying for Brian’s lost potential. He was a writer and he was engaging in a time-honored writing tradition. He was taking a road trip and he was discovering the world. He deserved better than whatever happened to him. He deserved see his novel sitting in a bookstore. Instead, he ran into the wrong people.
It’s the little details that really got to me. Stephen flies into a rage when he sees his younger brother wearing one of Brain’s sweaters. Joan momentarily gets her hopes up when she discovers that Brian reported some lost traveler’s checks, just to have that hope shot down when she’s told that the bank can’t reveal where Brian called them from unless Brian himself gives permission. When the van eventually turn up in Maine, it’s been totally trashed by whoever took it from Brian.
Eventually, Joan hires a private detective and Robert Prosky is well-cast as Jim Conway, a seemingly cynical ex-cop who dedicates himself to trying to provide closure for the Walkers. The scene where he finally discovers what happened to Brian is one of the strongest in the film and one of the most upsetting. So many people could have saved Brian if they only had the courage to speak up.
Into Thin Air is a powerful film. No one should ever be forgotten.
Some actors can make just about anything worth watching. That’s certainly the case with Boris Karloff and 1933’s The Ghoul.
In The Ghoul, Karloff plays Prof. Henry Moriant. The professor is an Egyptologist, a world-renowned expert on the dead. Moriant is now facing death himself, sick in bed and ranting about how he wants to be treated after he passes. Nigel Hartley (Ralph Richardson) stops by the mansion while pretending to be a vicar and offers to comfort Prof. Moriant in his last moments. The butler, Laing (Ernest Thesiger), explains that Moriant has never had much use for traditional religion. Instead, Moriant believes in the Gods of Egypt.
In death, Moriant wants to be buried with an Egyptian jewel in his hands. He believes that, after he dies, he will exchange the jewel with the Egyptian God Anubis and he will be reborn with amazing powers. However, when Moriant passes, Laing keeps the jewel for himself and attempts to hide it from the countess number of people who show up at the mansion, all seeking either the jewel or just information about Moriant’s estate. Moriant may not have been loved in life but everyone clearly loves his money.
Boris Karloff is not actually in that much of The Ghoul. He dominates the start of the film, ranting from his deathbed. And then, towards the end of the film, he rises from the dead and attacks those who he thinks have betrayed him and stolen the jewel. He’s only onscreen for a few minutes but he dominates those minutes. Karloff’s screen presence is undeniable. When he’s in a scene, he’s the only person that you watch. When he’s not in a scene, you find yourself wondering how long it’s going to take for Karloff to return.
That’s not to say that the other actors in The Ghoul aren’t good. The cast is full of distinguished names. Along with Richardson and Thesiger, Cedric Hardwicke, Anthony Bushnell, Dorothy Hyson, and Kathleen Harrison all wander through the mansion and try to avoid getting caught up in Karloff’s vengeance. Harrison provides the film’s comic relief and I actually enjoyed her flighty performance. The film itself is so darkly lit and full of so many greedy characters that it was nice to have someone on a totally different wavelength thrown into the mix. That said, the majority of the actors are stuck with paper-thin characters and aren’t really allowed the time to make much of an impression. This is Karloff’s film, from the beginning to end. And while the film itself is definitely a bit creaky, Karloff is always enjoyable to watch.
The Ghoul was made at a time when Karloff, having become a star with Frankenstein, was frustrated with the roles that he was being offered in America. He returned to his native UK and promptly discovered that he was just as typecast over there as he was in the United States. For a long time, The Ghoul was believed to be a lost film. However, in 1968, a copy was discovered in Egypt of all places. It’s unfortunate that the film itself isn’t better but there’s no denying the power of Karloff the performer.
1982’s Pink Floyd — The Wall is a film that I have mixed feelings about.
Some of that is due to my feelings about Pink Floyd. On the one hand, I can’t deny their talent and I do like quite a few of their songs, if they do all tend to be a bit on the portentous side. On the other hand …. Roger Waters! Bleh, Roger Waters. Waters was one of the founders of Pink Floyd and, for a while, the band’s de facto leader. He’s also a rabid anti-Semite and a defender of Vladimir Putin’s. That said, I’ve discovered that I can justify listening to Pink Floyd by remembering that the rest of the band hates Roger Waters as well and that Waters himself eventually left Pink Floyd. Waters’s bandmate, David Gilmour, has flat-out called Roger Waters an anti-Semite. Last year, when we had a total eclipse of the sun, I was happy to be able to play the last two tracks of Dark Side of the Moon while enjoying the early and temporary evening. It just felt appropriate.
Outside of Dark Side of the Moon, The Wall is probably Pink Floyd’s best-known work. (When I was younger, I can remember my Dad playing it whenever he was driving across the country.) A concept album about how much it sucks to be a wealthy Englishman, The Wall is one of those albums and films that are beloved by people who consider themselves to be alienated. Even more so than the average Pink Floyd album, The Wall was the brainchild of Roger Waters and, when the movie version was made in 1982, Waters wrote the screenplay. That said, I think you can argue that, much as with Tommy, The Wall was ultimately more about the vision of the film’s director than that of the man who wrote the songs.
The Wall is definitely an Alan Parker production. It’s big. It embraces the sordid. It’s stylish almost to the point of parody. Every image has been carefully constructed by a director who got his start doing commercials and whose main goal was to get an immediate audience reaction. Much like Parker’s Midnight Express or Evita, it’s a film that grabs your attention while you’re watching it and only afterwards do you stop consider that there really wasn’t much going on underneath the surface.
Pink (Bob Geldof) is a self-loathing rockstar who is haunted by his childhood in post-WWII Britain and whose marriage is failing. He’s building a wall, brick-by-brick, to keep himself separated from pain but the price of becoming comfortably numb is to be so alienated that you imagine becoming a neo-Nazi who orders his followers to follow the Worm. The imagery is powerful. The animated sequences by Gerald Scarfe still make quite an impression, especially the marching hammers. The score features songs like Another Brick In The Wall, Comfortably Numb, and Run Like Hell. The film is relentless, full of downbeat imagery that is often excessive but which Parker understood would appeal to the film’s target audience. Indeed, it’s such an overwhelming film that it’s easy to overlook the fact that, even before he transformed into a fascist, Pink is a drab character and his main problem seems to be that he can’t seem to find anything good to watch on television.
That said, I have to admit that, despite myself, I do like The Wall. It’s just so shameless that it’s hard not to enjoy the silliness of it all. Add to that, Comfortably Numb is a great song. (Another Brick In The Wall is also a great song though perhaps not for the reasons that Waters thought it was.) The Wall is a monument to the joys of cinematic excess.
“Don’t count on me to make you feel safe.” — The Stranger
High Plains Drifter stands as one of the bleakest, most enigmatic entries in Clint Eastwood’s filmography—a Western that bleeds unmistakably into the realms of psychological and supernatural horror. This 1973 film is not just another dusty tale of lone gunfighters and frontier justice. It’s a nightmare set in broad daylight, a morality play whose hero is more monster than man.
Eastwood’s Stranger comes riding into the town of Lago from the shimmering desert, a silhouette both akin to and apart from his famed Man With No Name persona. The townsfolk are desperate, haunted by fear—less afraid of imminent violence, more of the sins they’ve half-buried. This is a place where a lawman was brutally murdered by outlaws while the townspeople looked away, their silence paid for with cowardice and greed. When the Stranger assumes command, he does so with often-gleeful sadism—kicking people out of their hotel rooms, replacing the mayor and sheriff with the dwarf Mordecai, and ordering that the entire town be painted red before putting “Hell” on its welcome sign.
There’s a surface plot: the Stranger is hired to protect Lago from the same three outlaws who once butchered its marshal. But he’s there for far more than that. The story unspools through dreamlike sequences, flashbacks that suggest the Stranger may well be an avenging spirit or a revenant—the dead lawman, spectral and merciless, returned to claim what the townsfolk owe to Hell itself.
The horror here isn’t about jump scares or gothic haunted houses. The supernatural lurks everywhere and yet nowhere. The Stranger moves with the implacable calm—and violence—of a slasher villain, transforming Lago into his personal stage for retribution. His nightmares, full of images of past atrocities, are painted with the same vivid brutality as the daytime violence. Eastwood’s use of silence, the squint of a face, the twitch of a pistol replaces musical cues in amplifying dread. The sound design evokes otherness—a howling wind, footsteps echoing across empty streets—that builds a shadow of terror around the Stranger’s presence.
This violence is hurried and brutal; its sexual politics unflinching. When the Stranger enacts revenge, he punishes not just the outlaws, but the townsfolk complicit in their crimes. There is little comfort in his sense of justice—the pleasures he takes border on sadistic. The film’s moral ambiguity cuts deeper than most Westerns or horrors: this is not a clear-cut tale of good versus evil, but a brutal reckoning of collective guilt, cowardice, and corruption.
Lago itself acts almost like a town stuck in purgatory—a holding pen between redemption and eternal damnation. The infamous “Welcome to Hell” sign the Stranger paints at the town’s entrance serves as a grim message. It’s no welcome to law and order, but a symbolic beacon to the very outlaws the Stranger is hired to confront, suggesting that Lago is a place where sin festers and punishes itself. The town’s dance with Hell is both literal and metaphorical. The inhabitants aren’t just awaiting judgment; they have invited it in their desperate attempts to hide their cowardice and greed under the guise of civilization.
This notion of Lago as purgatory stands in sharp contrast to other recent horror Westerns, which serve as prime examples of the genre’s thematic spectrum. These films tend to focus on the primal terror of nature barely held at bay by the fragile veneer of civilization the settlers claim. They pit human beings against the ancient, untamed forces of the wilderness—whether monstrous creatures or surreal phenomena—emphasizing that the supposed order and progress of the West remain fragile and constantly threatened. This dynamic symbolizes the uneasy balance between civilization’s reach and nature’s primal power, often revealing how thin and tenuous that barrier truly is.
Among these, Bone Tomahawk and Ravenous stand out as vivid examples. Bone Tomahawk confronts menacing cannibals lurking in the wild, reminding viewers that the West’s order is fragile and under perpetual threat from untamed wilderness. Ravenous uses cannibalism and survival horror as metaphors for nature’s savage predation hidden beneath the polite façade of civilization—nature’s horrors masked but not erased.
By contrast, High Plains Drifter directs its horror inward, exposing the corruption that manifest destiny imposed on settlers themselves. Instead of fearing nature as an external force, the film presents settlers as haunted by their own moral failures and complicity in violence and betrayal. The Stranger’s vengeance is a reckoning with the darkness festering inside the community, a brutal meditation on guilt, collective cowardice, and the price of greed disguised as progress.
Eastwood’s film strips away the mythic promises of the American West as a land of freedom and opportunity, revealing instead the brutal reality of communities locked in complicity, violence masquerading as justice, and the moral rot at the heart of manifest destiny. This moral ambiguity and psychological depth give High Plains Drifter a unique position in the horror Western subgenre, elevating it beyond simple scares to a profound exploration of American cultural myths.
The Stranger is not a traditional hero but a spectral judge, embodying divine or supernatural retribution. His calm yet ruthless punishment exposes the cruelty, cowardice, and malevolence within Lago’s population, meting out a justice that is neither neat nor forgiving. His supernatural aura and sadistic tendencies make him an unforgettable figure of terror and fate.
Visually, the film’s harsh daylight contrasts with the romanticized Western landscapes of earlier films. Instead of shadows hiding evil, blinding light exposes the town’s moral decay. Characters are reduced to symbols of greed, fear, and cruelty, highlighting that the true horror lies within human nature and the failure to uphold justice.
High Plains Drifter operates on multiple levels—a Western, a ghost story, a horror film, and a dark morality play. It is a relentless meditation on justice and punishment and a dismantling of the traditional Western hero myth. Through layered narrative, stark visuals, and Eastwood’s chilling performance, it remains an essential entry in the horror Western canon.
For those seeking a Western that doesn’t just entertain but unsettles and challenges, High Plains Drifter offers an unforgiving descent into darkness. It strips away the comforting myths of the frontier and exposes the raw, rotting core beneath. Unlike other modern horror Westerns such as Bone Tomahawk and Ravenous, which confront external terrors lurking in the wilderness, this film turns its gaze inward—on the moral decay, guilt, and violence festering within the settlers themselves. It’s a brutal, haunting reckoning, and Eastwood’s Stranger is the cold, relentless agent of that reckoning. This is a journey into a hell both literal and psychological, where justice is merciless and safety is a long-forgotten promise.
There’s one rule in life that should never be forgotten.
Any movie that opens with Susan Lucci casting a hex that causes a man’s head to explode is going to be worth watching.
That’s certainly the case with Invitation to Hell, a 1984 made-for-TV movie that was directed by Wes Craven and which casts Lucci as Jessica Jones, an insurance agent who lives and works in an upper class suburb in Southern California. Jessica not only sells insurance but she also runs the ultra-exclusive Steaming Springs Country Club! Anyone who is anyone in town is a member of Steaming Springs! That include Matt Winslow (Robert Urich) and his family. Matt soon comes to suspect that something strange might be happening at the club. Fortunately, Matt’s spacesuit comes with a flame thrower, a laser, and a built-in computer that can determine whether or not someone is actually a human being. (Wearing the space helmet means viewing the world like you’re the Terminator.) Soon, it’s science vs. magic as Matt dons the suit and tries to rescue his family from country club living!
Totally ludicrous and a lot of fun, this is a film that has a little bit for everyone — familiar television actors, flamethrowers, space suits, demonic possession, exploding cars, and even a little bit of social satire as the film suggests that living in the suburbs is a terror even without weird country clubs and chic spell casters.
Last night, around 3 in the morning, I watched the Lifetime film, Match, Meet, Murder!
Why Was I Watching It?
It was late, I had insomnia, and the title just spoke to me. What can I say? I had many reasons for my decision and I don’t regret it for a minute.
What Was It About?
Ruby (Stephanie Sy) is a lingerie designer who has been in a dating slump ever since ending her long-term relationship with independent journalist Luke (Erik Athavale). Ruby’s friend, photographer Ella (Amanda Austin), gives her a secret code for the very exclusive Rima dating app. Soon, Ruby is matched with Dylan (Jacob Blair).
Dylan, it turns out, is a bit of celebrity. He was the winning contestant on a reality show hosted by notorious matchmaker, Jules (Lisa Marie DiGiacinto). The season may have ended with Dylan getting engaged but his new fiancée mysteriously vanished. Now, Dylan is dating Ruby and he doesn’t seem to be quite stable. He still has his ex’s clothes hanging in his bedroom closet. Run, Ruby, run!
What Worked?
I absolutely loved the demented performance of Lisa Marie DiGiacinto, who played Jules the matchmaker. I can’t say too much about it without spoiling the film but I will say that DiGiacinto fully understood the importance of embracing the melodrama in a film like this.
Some of Ruby’s lingerie designs were cute. The black bralette was adorable. Of course, I’d never be able to wear it because I actually have boobs.
What Did Not Work?
I’m usually willing to suspend my disbelief when it comes to a Lifetime film because the melodrama is usually the point. That said, I had a hard time believing that any successful woman could be as clueless as Ruby. She acted as if the concepts of both dating apps and reality TV were entirely new to her. I could excuse her dating app confusion because her character was said to be coming out of a long term relationship. But, seriously — not knowing about a reality television show? The Bachelor and The Bachelorette are inescapable, whether you watch them or not. I haven’t been able to really sit down and watch Love Island but it only takes a few minutes of me scrolling twitter before I feel as if I have.
As well, it took Ruby way too long to figure out that there might be something strange about Dylan’s previous girlfriend disappearing. Discovering her clothes still hanging in his closet? That’s a bit too obvious of a red flag to be shrugged off for as long as she did.
“Oh my God! Just like me!” Moments
Lingerie designer is definitely one of my fallback options if the whole movie-watching writer thing doesn’t work out. I will also say that I related to the shock of the assistant who introduced Ruby to reality television and was shocked to discover just how little Ruby apparently knew about pop culture.
Lessons Learned
If a guy you barely know has all of his ex’s clothes still hanging in his closet, run! To be honest, you shouldn’t need a movie to learn that lesson.
Eric Roberts is in the 2013 film, Revelation Road: The Beginning of the End.
Of course, he’s only in it for a few minutes. In fact, if you blink, you will miss him. He plays Sheriff Jenson, who is in charge of enforcing the law in a small desert community. He appears long enough to tell salesman John McManus (David A.R. White) not to leave town. McManus has just killed three armed men who were attempting to rob a general store. The store’s owner (Ray Wise) invites him to dinner but the cops are curious as to how a salesman could be so proficient at killing people.
RevelationRoad plays out over the course of one long night. A group of bikers, led by the fearsome Hawg (Brian Bosworth), are seeking revenge for the death of their compatriots. Meanwhile, Iran is pushing the world towards war. In a motel, a woman asks John for money. Lighting flashes. Lights flicker on and off. The Earth shakes. It’s a fearful time, largely because the world itself is coming to an end. A little over an hour into this 88 minute film, there’s a sudden blinding light and suddenly, a fourth of the cast vanishes. One person who does not vanish runs into a kindly stranger, played by Bruce Marchiano. Marchiano will be well-known to viewers of faith-based cinema for the number of times that he’s played Jesus. So, you can probably guess what’s happened.
RevelationRoad ends with the promise of a sequel, which means that the film also ends with a lot of unanswered questions. It makes RevelationRoad difficult to really review because it’s obviously meant to be a prologue to the actual story. I will note that RevelationRoad is a surprisingly violent movie, at least by the standards of most faith-based films. Then again, most of the violence was in self-defense and the Bible itself is full of stories of violent men who found redemption. In fact, you could probably argue that it’s impossible to do an apocalypse movie that isn’t violent. We’ll just have to wait to see where this story is heading.
I’ll review the sequel tomorrow.
Previous Eric Roberts Films That We Have Reviewed:
Halloween approaches! I’ll be posting another list of movies in a few days but here’s ten horror movie recommendations for between now and Wednesday!
Vampire Circus (1972) is a gloriously macabre film that I recommend to everyone. This British film takes place in a Serbian village that a vampire curses with his dying breath. Twenty years later, the village is ravaged by the plague and blockaded by other towns. With the inhabitants basically prisoners in their own home, they are easily tempted by the arrival of a circus. The circus, of course, is not what it seems. This is a stylish film, full of quirky characters, disturbing imagery, and a lot of blood. It’s perfect for Halloween. You can view it on Prime.
Speaking of vampires, Count Yorga, Vampire (1970) features Robert Quarry as a vampire in 1970s California. Apparently, the film was originally envisioned as being a soft-core film that would feature a few horror elements but Quarry insisted that the script be rewritten to emphasize the count’s vampirism. That was probably a good idea as Quarry turned Yorga into one of the most memorable movie vampires not named Dracula. Serious actor Michael Murphy appears in this film as well. It’s interesting to note that Murphy went from battling a vampire to working with Robert Altman and Woody Allen and appearing in some of the best films of the 70s. You can view Yorga here.
In Magic (1978), Anthony Hopkins plays a ventriloquist who is basically at the mercy of his foul-mouthed, foul-tempted, all together foul dummy. This is one of the best examples of a creepy ventriloquist dummy film. Hopkins’s neurotic performance is brilliant and actually far more interesting than his best-known work as Hannibal Lecter. Burgess Meredith and Ann-Margaret offer strong support. Hopefully, the dummy was used for kindling after this film was shot because seriously ….. agck! Magic is on Prime.
The Witchfinder General (1968) stars Vincent Price and was released as The Conqueror Worm in the United States but it should not be mistaken for one of Corman’s Poe adaptation. Instead, The Witchfinder General is a visually stunning and intense film that features Price is one of his best villainous roles. There’s very little camp or intentional humor to be found in this film. Instead, it’s just Price giving a genuinely frightening performance. Under its American Title of The Conqueror Worm, The Witchfinder General can be found on Prime.
Earlier, I mentioned that Robert Quarry’s Count Yorga was one of the most interesting not named Dracula. I should also mention that William Marshall made for an equally interesting vampire in 1972’s Blacula.The film may have been a bit campy but William Marshall gave a strong and dignified performance as Count Mamuwalde, who is transformed into a vampire by Dracula (who is not just a bloodsucker but a racist as well) and later finds himself in 1970s America. Blacula was followed by a sequel, 1973’s Scream, Blacula, Scream. The sequel is a mess but worth watching for the teaming of William Marshall and Pam Grier. Blacula and Scream, Blacula, Scream are both on Tubi.
Finally, I have to mention that Bruno Mattei’s 1984 masterpiece, Rats: Night of Terror can now be viewed on Tubi. The film may seem ludicrous but you’ll never get that final shot out of your head! It can be viewed on Tubi.
For today’s Horror on the Television, we have a made-for-TV movie from 1973. As you can tell from the video below, it originally aired as a part of ABC’s Tuesday Night At The Movies.
A Cold Night’s Death tells the story of two scientists (Eli Wallach and Robert Culp) who are sent to a remote research station to investigate the apparent disappearance of another scientist. They soon come to suspect that they may not be alone and soon, paranoia rears its ugly head. With its frozen landscape and its ominous atmosphere, this movie feels like a distant cousin to John Carpenter’s The Thing.
When he was a young boy, Gregory Tudor was traumatized when he witnessed the gangland-style execution of the neighborhood ice cream man. He was retraumatized when he was sent to an insane asylum. Now, Gregory (Clint Howard) has grown up and he’s the ice cream man! Everyone in the neighborhood loves his ice cream but the local kids suspect that he’s using human body parts to get the flavor just right. It turns out that the kids know what they’re talking about.
Through the Shattered Lens 