Today’s horror scene is a classic moment from today’s horror on the lens, 1959’s The House on Haunted Hill!
One of the joys of this film is definitely watching Vincent Price having a lot of fun with that skeleton.
Tag Archives: Horror
Horror Film Review: Dark Heritage (dir by David McCormick)
1989’s Dark Heritage deals with the aftermath of a violent thunderstorm in Louisiana.
After the thunder has rumbled and the lightning has flashed and all of the rain has fallen, several dead bodies are discovered in the wilderness near a mansion. Why are the bodies out there? How did they end up dead? Are they connected to the reclusive Dansen clan, a once notorious family that may not even exist any more? Bearded reporter Clint Harrison (Mark LaCour) is sent to find out!
Dark Heritage is an example of one of my favorite genres, the low-budget regional horror film. Dark Heritage not only takes place in Louisiana but it was also filmed in Louisiana with a cast that spoke in genuine Louisiana accents. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that the majority of the crew was from the state as well. This is not one of those films where the South is represented by the mountains of California. That brings a certain amount of authenticity to the production and that authenticity can make up for a lot. This film captures the true atmosphere of Louisiana at its most humid and gothic and there aren’t any yankees around to ruin everything. That’s always nice.
At the same time, Dark Heritage also wears its low-budget on its sleeve. Sometimes, it’s effective. A sepia-clad vision of a ghostly member of the Dansen clan entering the mansion and motioning for the reporter to follow him is far more effective than it has any right to be. The horror genre is one of the few genres that actually benefits from grainy cinematography and dark lighting. There are other times when the amateurishness of the production is definitely a distraction. A scene towards the end where a man threatens Clint with a gun is so overacted by everyone involved that it actually becomes rather humorous to watch. If the most intense scene of your horror film inspires laughter instead of a racing heart, it’s definitely a problem.
The film itself is loosely based on H.P. Lovecraft’s The Lurking Fear. Just as with the original story, we get an extended sequence of an underground chamber that is full of some genuinely creepy monsters. That said, the film’s plot is often not that easy to follow, both because of the illogical actions of the characters and also some genuinely poor sound recording that makes it difficult to follow the conversations. This is a film where Clint first goes to the mansion with two companions. When those companions disappear, Clint is told that he is now a murder suspect. Clint’s reaction is to go find someone else to return to the house with him. Surely he knows that if that person also dies while visiting the house, he’ll look even more guilty. I mean, that would only make sense, right? Why not just stay away from the house?
Dark Heritage has a lot of atmosphere and it even manages to give us a few memorable and creepy visuals. That said, it’s ultimately done in by its low-budget and its often incoherent plot.
Horror Film Review: The Old Ones (dir by Chad Ferrin)
2024’s The Old Ones opens with an animated sequence of an old sea captain being tossed into a light, an apparent sacrifice. On the one hand, it’s properly macabre, featuring as it does a cult sacrifice. On the other hand, it’s also kind of cute because it’s animated. That juxtaposition between the horrific and the cute pretty much defines the entire film.
The sea captain is Russell Marsh (Robert Miano). He eventually washes up, 95 years after he left his home on a sea voyage. Russell is discovered by Dan (Scott Vogel) and his son, Gideon (Brandon Philip), who are camping and having some father-and-son bonding time. Russell tells them that he was born in 1865 and that he last set sail in 1930. Dan and Gideon point that’s not possible because it’s 2025 and Russell doesn’t appear to be a day over 65. Russell says that he’s spent the last 95 year being possessed and controlled by the Old Ones, the cosmic beings who control the universe. Dan is skeptical but then Dan is promptly killed by a monster who materializes out of nowhere. Russell and Gideon go on the run, trying to avoid cultists and others who have been possessed by the Old Ones. Russell says that, if he can find the mysterious Nylarlahotep, he may be able to travel through time and stop himself from going to sea in 1930. Russell would never be possessed by the Old Ones and, in theory, Gideon’s father would never had died.
The Old Ones is “based on the writings of H.P. Lovecraft” and it should be noted that the film does contain references to a lot of Lovecraft’s stories. Nylarlahotep (played here by Rico E. Anderson) is a character straight out of Lovecraft and his behavior here — menacing and enigmatic, if slightly bemused by the foolishness of humanity — very much conforms to Lovecraft’s portrayal of him. The Old Ones will be familiar to anyone with even a passing knowledge of the Cthulhu Mythos. That said, the film itself doesn’t always feel particularly Lovecraftian, if just because of the amount of humor that is found during Russell and Gideon’s quest. Gideon is often in a state of shock while Russell is the one who has seen it all and faces every horror with a studied nonchalance.
(One of the film’s best moments is when Russell pragmatically suggests that Gideon should sacrifice himself since Russell is just going to reverse time anyways.)
Considering that the budget was obviously low and that the writings of H.P. Lovecraft are notoriously difficult to adapt, The Old Ones works far better than I certainly expected it to. The story moves quickly and even the humor adds to the overall feel of the chaotic energy of the Old Ones invading human existence. The strongest thing about the film is the performance as Robert Miano as Russell Marsh. As played by Miano, Russell is the perfect hero for this type of story, compassionate but also pragmatic enough not to shed any tears if someone happens to die on Russell’s way to reversing time. Even if the humor may not reflect the source material, the film still ends on a very Lovecraftian note. One person’s happy ending is another’s nightmare.
Horror Film Review: The Call of Cthulhu (dir by Andrew Leman)
2005’s The Call of Cthulhu is several stories in one.
In a mental hospital, an apparent madman (Matt Foyer) talks to his psychiatrist (John Bolen) about the death of his uncle, a professor who had similarly gone made during his final days. The man’s uncle was obsessed with evidence of a worldwide cult who worshipped an ancient being, perhaps named Cthulhu and perhaps sleeping somewhere in the ocean. When his uncle died, the man received all of his research. The files detailed the discovery of a cult in Louisiana, with the added caveat that the man who discovered the cult himself died under mysterious circumstances. Later a boat is found floating at sea and the records within suggest that the boat’s crew met a fearsome creature on a dark and stormy night. As soon becomes clear, the price for investigating Cthulhu is losing one’s own sanity. Once a researcher realizes that Cthulhu and the Old Ones are real and that the universe really is beyond understanding or human control, insanity inevitably follows.
H.P. Lovecraft’s The Call of Cthulhu was originally published in 1928 and it remains Lovecraft’s best-known work. It’s often cited as the start of the Cthulhu mythos, though Lovecraft had hinted at Cthulhu’s existence in previous stories. Lovecraft was a prolific correspondent who kept in contact with other pulp writers and who allowed them to add to the Cthulhu mythos. As a result, it seems as if writing a Cthulhu story has become a rite of passage for many aspiring horror writers. (Even Stephen King has written a few.) H.P. Lovecraft may have not been a household name when he died but Cthulhu ensured his immortality.
Why has Cthulhu had the impact that it has? I think the answer is right there in the story. As the characters come to realize, Cthulhu is beyond understanding and, because it cannot be understood, it cannot be defeated. Cthulhu and the other Great Old Ones are beyond humanity’s traditional concepts of good and evil. Whereas other monsters can be defined and often defeated by what they want, Cthulhu is beyond such concerns. Not even the members of his cult really seem to be sure just what exactly it is that they’re going to gain from their worship.
Cthulhu represents powerlessness of humanity in the face of a cold and uncaring universe. Cthulhu represents chaos. There is no way to fight Cthulhu but, because Cthulhu is such an enigma, intellectually curious humans (and Lovecraft’s protagonists often were academics) find themselves drawn to him. But the minute one starts to research Cthulhu, they are inevitably drawn to their destruction. The same is probably true of people who specifically read short stories and watch movies about Cthulhu. We’re all doomed. I hope this hasn’t ruined your Wednesday.
The Call of Cthulhu was long-considered to be unfilmable but, in 2005, director Andrew Leman proved the skeptics worng. Realizing that The Call of Cthulhu was the epitome of 1920s horror, Leman made the clever decision to adopt the story in the style of a 20s-silent film. The black-and-white cinematography is gorgeous, the title cards perfectly capture the melodramatic tone of 20s cinema (and they also help with the fact that Lovecraft’s dialogue doesn’t always sound natural when spoken aloud), and the largely practical effects capture the haunting horror of Lovecraft’s vision. The moment when the boat’s crew meets Cthulhu at sea is especially well done, with the stop-motion effects proving themselves to be far more effective than any CGI could be. The end result is a film pays tribute to Lovecraft while also bringing to life the mystery of Cthulhu.
The Call of Cthulhu (2005, directed by Andrew Leman)
October True Crime: Manhunt: The Search For The Night Stalker (dir by Bruce Seth Green)
Richard Ramirez was a loser.
That may seem like an obvious statement but I think it’s important to sometimes reiterate these things. That’s especially true with someone like Richard Ramirez. Ramirez murdered at least 15 people in California in 1984 and 1985 and, to this day, no one is sure why. The press gave Ramirez a cool nickname, christening him “The Night Stalker.” When he was captured, the press covered his claims of being a Satanist. Because he was a dark-haired bad boy with intense eyes, a large number of true crime groupies attended his trial and later claimed to be in love with him. (That will always be strange to me as Ramirez was also described as having rotten teeth and rancid breath. That would be a definite turn-off for me. Well, that and all of the raping and murdering.) Even when he was sent to Death Row, Ramirez’s admirers continued to send him money and gifts in the mail. For a select group of people, he was an icon.
That’s why I think it’s important to make a few things clear about Richard Ramirez.
He was a drug addict who reportedly struggled with impotence.
He was barely literate.
He specifically targeted women and the elderly because he knew he could overpower them.
He was captured because he was too much of a dumbass to realize that his picture was in every newspaper. He ended up getting his ass kicked by several angry citizens and he probably would have been killed by them if the police hadn’t shown up.
He was a Satanist, which is one of most boring things that you can be.
He said “See you in Disneyland,” after he was sentenced to death. He could have just gone to Disneyland on his own without killing people beforehand.
He had terrible personal hygiene. The long dark hair? There’s no way it wasn’t full of lice.
When he died, no one claimed his body so the prison just set him on fire and today, they probably use his ashes to help soak up spills.
In short, the dude was a loser and certainly not worthy of being played by Lou Diamond Phillips.
1989’s Manhunt: The Search For The Night Stalker deals with the search for the Night Stalker while not making the mistake of glamorizing him. We see Ramirez’s crimes but the film doesn’t waste much time trying to figure out what makes Ramirez tick. Instead, Ramirez remains a shadow of evil, descending on Los Angeles and reminding us all the lock our doors. The emphasis is instead on the two detectives (Richard Jordan and A Martinez) who are investigating the crimes and the journalists who often sensationalized the murders but who also played an important role in getting the uncaptured Ramirez’s face in front of everyone in California. The film itself delves into all of the true crime made-for-TV movie cliches but Jordan and Martinez both give good performances, the film does a good job of capturing the paranoia of a city under siege, and, most importantly, the film reminds us that Richard Ramirez was, above all else, a total and complete loser.
4 Shots From 4 Horror Films: The 1960s Part One
This October, I’m going to be doing something a little bit different with my contribution to 4 Shots From 4 Films. I’m going to be taking a little chronological tour of the history of horror cinema, moving from decade to decade.
Today, we start the 1960s!
4 Shots From 4 Horror Films
Psycho (1960, dir by Alfred Hitchcock)
The Pit and the Pendulum (1961, dir by Roger Corman)
The Awful Dr. Orlof (1962, dir by Jesus Franco)
Black Sabbath (1963, dir by Mario Bava)
Let’s Celebrate October With Cthulhu!
All Bow Before Mighty Cthulhu by Erin Nicole
We’re halfway through October! Here’s some pictures inspired by Mighty Cthulhu to help you celebrate!
Awakening by Douglas A. Sirois
Lovecraft by Francesco Francavilla
Tsathoggua Rising by Richard Loung
Cthulhu Rising by Richard Loung
Cthulhu Rises by Silberious
The Chase by Douglas A. Sirois
Horror On The Lens: The House On Haunted Hill (dir by William Castle)
First released in 1959 and starring the great Vincent Price, the original House on Haunted Hill is a bit of a Halloween tradition here at the Shattered Lens.
The House on Haunted Hill features Price as a millionaire who invites five people to a party that he and his wife are throwing in a supposedly haunted house. Price explains that anyone who can actually make it through the entire night will receive $10,000. (That’s the equivalent of a $110,000 today.) Is the house truly haunted? The groundskeeper (Elisha Cook, Jr.) certainly seems to think so!
This is a classic haunted house movie, featuring Price at his best and a number of genuinely fun twists. Even if you’ve seen it a hundred times, you need to watch it again. Here is …. THE HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL!
Silent Film Review: Metropolis (dir by Fritz Lang)
Is 1927’s Metropolis a horror film?
If pressed, I could certainly make the argument that it could be considered to be at least partially a horror film. It’s work of German Expressionism, a cinematic movement that was definitely an influence on the emerging horror genre. It features a mad scientist named Rotwang (Rudolph Klein-Rogge), who designs a robot that he hopes he can transform into his lost love, a woman who instead chose to be with the wealthy and powerful Joh Fredersen (Alfred Abel). The robot instead adopts the form of the saintly Maria (Brigitte Helm) and becomes a temptress who inspires a violent revolution in Fredersen’s city. At one point, when Fredersen’s son, Freder (Gustav Frohlich), falls ill, he has a hallucination of the machines under the city transforming into a demon the devours the workers. Later, statues of the Seven Deadly Sins come to life. The film ends with the message that “The Mediator Between the Head and the Hands Must Be the Heart,” which is exactly the type of empty slogan that repressive regimes have used to defend their own horrific abuses of power. It’s right up there with John Lennon’s Imagine as far as horrifying ideological statements are concerned. (The world will live as one as long as everyone imagines the exact same thing. Don’t ask what will happen to those who imagine something different than an empty world shaped by ideology.)
That said, Metropolis is, at best, a horror-adjacent film. As much as I want to hammer it into a straight horror film for the sake of October, Metropolis is better describe as being one of the first great science fiction films. Director Fritz Lang creates two visually stunning worlds, one on top of the other. Above ground, the city of Metropolis is all about towering skyscrapers, airplanes (at a time when they were still a novelty), high speed rail, and even the occasional zeppelin. It’s a sleek and beautiful city, where the inhabitants all seem to be rich and everyone is too busy enjoying the gardens and the clubs to truly pay much attention to what is happening beneath them. Underground is where one finds the machines that keep the city moving and also the anonymous workers who often risk their lives to keep those machines from breaking down. Underground, the city is dirty and dark and the workers go about their activities with the realization that things are never going to get better for them. Above ground, Metropolis is paradise but below it, the city is a hellscape.
Joh Fredersen is the man who created and controls Metropolis. His office is in the new Tower of Babel, a symbol of how there’s no communication between Fredersen and those who work underneath the city. He’s not an evil man, as much he’s just one who chooses to remain unaware about the conditions underground. When his son meets and falls in love with the peaceful activist Maria, Fredersen does not listen to either one of them but instead plots on how to discredit her. Fredersen’s old friend Rotwang has a robot but, what Frederson does not know, is that Rotwang has never forgiven Fredersen for marrying the woman that Rotwang loved. Rotwang creates his robot not to discredit Maria but to instead inspire the workers to destroy the machines and kill Fredersen’s son.
(Like so many other Marxist films, Metropolis ultimately doesn’t have much respect for the workers that it tries to uplift. They’re almost all portrayed as being easily led and incapable of thinking for themselves. At best, they’re noble savages. At worst, they’re drones.)
Even seen today, Metropolis remains a technical marvel. The underground scenes, with their emphasis on huge machines that seem to dwarf the men who work on them, are still visually powerful while the above ground scenes still make Metropolis itself look like the type of city where many of us would want to live. The scenes in which the robot is transformed into Maria is a silent spectacle of lights, science and madness. Beyond that, the acting holds up surprisingly well for a silent film. Alfred Abel plays Fredersen not as being a tyrant but instead as just a man who has been rich for so long that he’s no longer aware of how anyone else is living. Rudolf Klein-Rogge turns Rotwang into one of the great mad scientists. And Brigitte Helm leads the worker’s rebellion with a nearly feral intensity. Her dance scene is a classic, with every move meant to seduce the citizens of Metropolis into destroying their own city.
Metropolis remains a visual feast and, over the course of nearly 100 years, it’s inspired countless other science fiction and horror films. Every film that features a dystopian future city owes a debt to Metropolis. It may only be horror adjacent but it’s still worth seeing this October season.
Silent Horror Review: Nosferatu (dir by F.W. Murnau)
First released in 1922, the original and silent Nosferatu remains a masterpiece.
The story …. well, we all know that story. Even if you’ve never seen any of three film versions of Nosferatu, you still know the story because it’s basically just Dracula with the names and the locations change. Dracula is now Count Orlok (Max Schreck), a mysterious nobleman with bat-like features and a fascination with blood. Jonathan Harker, the estate agent who traveled from England to Transylvania to visit with Dracula, is now Thomas Hutter (Gustav van Wangenheim), a real estate agent who travels from Germany to Transylvania to see Count Orlok. The mad, bug-eating Renfield is now the mad, bug-eating Knock (Alexander Granach). Mina Harker is now Ellen (Greta Schroder). Prof. Van Helsing is now Professor Bulwer (John Gottowt). Dracula came to England aboard the Demeter. Count Orlok comes to Germany about the Empusa.
There are a few differences, of course. Director F.W. Murnau may have used Dracula as his starting point but he brought his own ideas and sensibility to the project as well. In Nosferatu, Orlok received his vampiric powers from the demon Belial and he not only drinks blood but he also brings with him the threat of plague. The Empusa brings not just Orlok but also thousands of rats who spread disease in the German town of Wisburg. The town, which is so vibrant during the early parts of the film, soon becomes a dark and ominous place where the people blame Knock for every curse the Orlok has brought to them. If Dracula could be destroyed by a stake to the heart and stopped by a cross, Orlok can be stopped by a pure woman sacrificing herself and allowing him to drink her blood as the sun rises. Orlok, for all of his feral cleverness, cannot resist the twin temptation of blood and innocence. It leads to an ending that’s quite a bit different from the ending of Bram Stoker’s novel. In Werner Herzog’s 1979 remake of the film, the insinuation was that the town itself was not worth the sacrifice. F.W. Murnau is far less cynical.
Typically, it takes some effort to adjust to watching a silent movie. Everything from the frequently melodramatic title cards to the overly expressive acting can tend to make silent cinema seem more than a little campy. Nosferatu, however, requires less adjustment than most because it’s a film that it still being imitated to this day. The images of Orlok standing on the bridge of the ship or slowly entering Hutter’s room or leaning down over Ellen’s neck are so haunting and dream-like that it doesn’t matter that they are found in a silent film. Fear is the universal language and Murnau’s visuals still carry a lot of power.
Made at a time when the world was still recovering from the carnage of the First World War, Nosferatu perfectly captures the feeling of innocence and optimism being replaced by despair and paranoia. It’s been argued that Nosferatu reflected the fears and anxieties of post-war German society, with the vampire representing the fear of Germany being taken over by outside forces. There’s probably something to that. Tragically, those fears also led to the rise of Hitler so I’ll just say that the majority of the cast of Nosferatu fled Germany when Hitler came to power. John Gottowt, the film’s version of Van Helsing, was murdered by the SS. Director F.W. Murnau died in a car accident before Hitler came to power but, as a gay man, he would not have been welcome in Hitler’s Germany.
The film itself was a hit when it was first released in Germany. Unfortunately, calling the vampire Orlok instead of Dracula did not dissuade Bram Stoker’s widow from suing for copyright infringement. Mrs. Stoker won her case and all copies of Nosferatu were ordered destroyed. Fortunately, a few prints survived and Nosferatu continues to be regarded as one of the greatest horror films ever made.
Through the Shattered Lens 