Tag Archives: John Carpenter

Horror Review: Christine (dir. by John Carpenter)

Posted on by Arleigh

During the late 1970s and early 1980s, one could hardly step into a theater during the fall or winter movie season without seeing a trailer for the newest Stephen King adaptation. His name had become synonymous with cinematic horror, and nearly every year brought a new film promising supernatural terror or psychological unease.

Among this wave of adaptations came a 1983 film that united two masters of the genre—Stephen King, the reigning literary giant of horror, and John Carpenter, the filmmaker who had already cemented his reputation with Halloween and The Thing. Their collaboration resulted in the sleek, deadly story of a boy and his car: Christine.

The film opens on the assembly line of a Plymouth factory in 1957, immediately signaling that something is off about this particular 1958 Plymouth Fury. From the first note of the retro rock soundtrack to the gleam of that deep crimson paint, Carpenter frames the car with both nostalgia and menace. The lighting in this opening feels almost clinical—bright, sterile, mechanical—yet Christine’s red sheen cuts violently through it, a visual omen that this machine is infused with something beyond metal and chrome. Carpenter wastes no time making it clear that this car is not an inanimate prop; it’s a living entity from the moment it’s born.

We’re soon introduced to the film’s human core—Arnie Cunningham (Keith Gordon), a shy, bookish teenager tormented by bullies and smothered by his controlling parents, and his best friend Dennis Guilder (John Stockwell), the confident star athlete who often looks out for him. One afternoon, during their drive home from school, Arnie spots a rusting, decrepit Plymouth Fury in the front yard of an old man named Roland D. LeBay. Where Dennis sees a heap of junk, Arnie sees perfection. Ignoring his friend’s concerns—and later, his parents’ outrage—Arnie buys the car and names it Christine.

As Arnie begins restoring Christine to her former glory, a transformation occurs—not just in the car, but in Arnie himself. The once timid, acne-scarred teenager grows into a confident, even arrogant young man, donning slicker clothes, sharper speech, and a darker aura. Christine becomes his obsession, his refuge, and ultimately, his identity.

Carpenter crafts this metamorphosis with eerie precision, pairing the car’s physical renewal with Arnie’s psychological decay. The cinematography shifts accordingly—the lighting grows darker, drenched in neon reds and shadowy blues, mirroring Christine’s two faces: seductive allure and demonic possession. Carpenter’s score, a pulsing blend of electronic rhythm and minimalistic dread, underscores these shifts. It functions almost like Christine’s heartbeat—steady, mechanical, and ominously sensual.

Between the vintage rock tracks that accompany Arnie’s moments of infatuation and the electronic motifs that follow Christine’s predatory stalks, Carpenter manipulates sound to blur the lines between teenage romance and supernatural horror. Every rev of the engine feels rhythmic, almost musical, as if the car itself communicates through vibration and tone rather than words.

Arnie’s newfound confidence even earns him Leigh Cabot (Alexandra Paul), the most desired girl in school—a relationship that initially feels like a symbol of his triumph. But Christine is no fairy tale. When Arnie’s bullies vandalize his beloved car, the story turns from eerie to vengeful.

In a now-iconic sequence, Christine repairs herself before Arnie’s stunned eyes—the crumpled metal expands, glass re-forms, headlights ignite like eyes opening from a nightmare. Carpenter lights the scene with a soft, golden underglow that turns mechanical resurrection into a hauntingly beautiful transformation. It’s both horrifying and hypnotic—a perfectly scored ballet of vengeance set to the hum of machinery and the director’s unmistakable electronic pulse.

What follows is a furious killing spree. Christine prowls the night streets for retribution, a creature of fire and gasoline more alive than metal should ever be.

While Carpenter’s adaptation diverges from King’s novel, it remains faithful to its emotional and thematic essence. King’s book delves deeply into the idea of objects absorbing the evil of their owners, suggesting that malevolence can linger in things as much as in people. Carpenter, however, turns the focus inward.

His version becomes a tragic character study—a battle for Arnie’s soul between the cold, seductive power of obsession and the fragile warmth of human connection. In one corner stands Christine, the car that offers Arnie unconditional love but demands total possession. In the other are Dennis and Leigh, desperate to save the friend they’re rapidly losing to something they can’t fully understand.

Carpenter’s signature touches—his electronic score, minimalist framing, and cynical tone—imbue the film with a dark romanticism. Christine is less a haunted object than a femme fatale: a mechanized embodiment of jealousy and desire. The film’s atmosphere bridges two eras, combining the nostalgic vibe of 1950s Americana with the grim realism of Reagan-era suburbia.

By the end, Christine becomes both a story of supernatural obsession and a commentary on teenage identity—the hunger to shed weakness, to command respect, and to control one’s fate, even at the cost of one’s soul.

Upon its release in December 1983, Christine performed modestly at the box office but was far from a failure. Over time, it has developed a strong cult following, cherished by both Carpenter devotees and Stephen King fans. Though often overshadowed by Carpenter’s heavier-hitting works like The Thing or Escape from New York, Christine remains one of his most technically polished films. It also stands as a fascinating bridge between studio horror and Carpenter’s independent sensibilities—where the shine of a Hollywood production mingles with the grit of a B-movie heart.

If Christine teaches any lesson, it’s that love and possession are two sides of the same coin. Arnie’s tragedy lies not in falling for the wrong woman, but in falling for one that burns with literal hellfire. In Carpenter’s vision, the road to damnation isn’t paved with good intentions—it’s lined with chrome, lit by headlights, and always hungry for one more ride.

Quick Horror Review: John Carpenter’s The Fog

Posted on by Leonard Wilson

I have something of a tradition with John Carpenter’s The Fog. Every year, I try to watch the film on the date and time where the story starts – April 20th, at around 11:55pm. It’s not the scariest of stories, but it does have a spooky atmosphere that lends itself well to Halloween – or any late quiet night. I love this movie.

The Fog marked the first film that John Carpenter worked on after Halloween, collaborating with the late Debra Hill, who also produced the movie. She’d go on to also produce both Escape From New York and Escape from L.A for Carpenter. While it didn’t really have the impact of Halloween, it held up until Escape from New York came out the following year.

Here’s the story:

In the town of Antonio Bay, an old captain (John Houseman) explains to some children about the ill-fated Elizabeth Dane (what a beautiful name, I might add), a ship that belonged a rich of crew of lepers led by someone named Blake. The heads of the town conspired to steal the gold by setting up the ship to crash against the docks. It works out for the Conspirators, as they are “aided by a unearthy fog” that blinds the Leper ship’s navigators. and the gold they collect helps to form the great town the kids play in to this day.

What they don’t realize is that vengeance is coming in the form of that very same fog, as the ghost of the Lepers have come to claim the lives of the six conspirators…or their direct descendants.

As a kid, I had a problem with that. You mean because my great great grandparents messed up somewhere ages ago, I have to get killed for it? I remember thinking that it really wasn’t fair, but I’m kind of diverging from the topic here. The story gives you four points of view. You have Nick (Tom Atkins, sans his signature mustache) and a hitchhiker he picks up played by then scream queen Jamie Lee Curtis. You have Curtis mother, Janet Leigh, who’s character is working on the anniversary party for the town and her assistant, Sandy, played by Nancy Loomis (who appeared in the first three Halloween films). The third comes from Adrienne Barbeau’s character, Stevie Wayne, who works for the local radio station. Her character acts as the warning voice for the town and she starts to notice that something’s going on when her son gives her a piece of Driftwood that later echoes Blake’s warning. The final viewpoint comes from Father Malone (Hal Holbrook), who discovers Blake’s diary and learns the truth about what happened 100 years ago. His character helps to piece the mystery together, somewhat.

Carpenter and Hill gathered many of their friends, who went on to work on other films for this. Tommy Lee Wallace went on to direct Halloween III: Season of the Witch (and coincidentally did the voice of the Silver Shamrock ad-man in the commercial) and Vampires: Los Muertos. Wallace’s name was given to Carpenter fan favorite Buck Flower. Nick Castle’s name was given to Tom Atkins character. Makeup Wizard Rob Bottin (who also played Blake in the film) went on to do some of the effects in The Thing.

The makeup effects in this film were okay. The lighting and fog did more to obscure than to actually help one see what was doing the attacking, but it really worked for some of the shadowing in the film. If the movie has any drawbacks, it’s that there’s a really low body count to the film. In essence, there are only 6 people the ghosts are after, so these are only the ones they actually get. It would have been interesting if there were a few random deaths, or more individuals in danger, but I supposed it worked out well for the time period.

The Fog is a nice film to catch late at night. You won’t find it at the upper rankings of top horror films, but it’s one to try, at least. Don’t even bother with the Remake for this one. It’s not even work talking about.

Lisa Marie Is Confused By The Demons of Ludlow (dir. by Bill Rebane)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Last night, after I finished with The Alpha Incident, I decided to watch yet another Bill Rebane film from the Mill Creek 50 Chilling Classics box set, 1983’s The Demons of Ludlow.

The Demons of Ludlow

Ludlow is a tiny New England town that is celebrating its 200th birthday.  Now, when I say tiny, I mean that there appears to be about 17 people living in the town.  Anyway, a mysterious piano is sent to the town as a birthday present and, uh-oh — guess what’s possessed with the angry spirit of a warlock who happened to be murdered by the citizens of Ludlow 200 years ago?  Anyway, this warlock has a whole lot of other angry ghosts with him and soon, they’re exacting revenge on the citizens of Ludlow. 

Okay, I think I can hear Arleigh going, “Uhmmm…Lisa Marie, remember a little film called The Fog!?” and yes, I guess the plot is a bit similar to John Carpenter’s film.  It’s also reminiscent of another 1983 horror film called The Devonsville Terror.  While The Devonsville Terror was directed by the infamous Ulli Lommel, Bill Rebane is listed as being one of the “associate producers.”  I’m sure there’s probably a story there.

But anyway, back to The Demons of Ludlow.  This is very much a horror film of the 80s, which means that it has a real nasty streak.  As opposed to The Alpha Incident, where Rebane actually did appear to have a higher purpose in mind, the Demons of Ludlow is pretty much all about killing people.  Yet, this lack of higher purpose actually makes Demons of Ludlow a far more entertaining film to watch.  It helps that none of the 17 citizens of Ludlow are actually likable enough for you to get too upset once they die. 

A shocking scene of demonic vengeance...or something.

The demons of Ludlow themselves are far more interesting, if just because they challenge logic by their very existence.  As the reviewer known as Scarina pointed out in her own excellent review, the film’s own internal logic states that the ghosts that are helping out the warlock in the piano are the exact same ghosts who ran him out of Ludlow in the first place.  So, therefore, why are they helping him? Now, if pressed, I can accept that perhaps he used his warlock powers to take control of their ghosts.  I mean, he’s had to kill 200 years doing something, right?

But what’s odd is that we’re told that Ludlow is 200 years old.  Seeing as the film came out in 1983, let’s give the movie the benefit of the doubt and say that Ludlow was founded in 1782.  Okay, that would mean that Ludlow was established during the final year of the American Revolution.  Therefore, why are half the ghosts of Ludlow dressed like pilgrims from a community theater Thanksgiving pageant?   I say half because the other half are dressed like decadent nobles from pre-Revolutionary France.  Seriously, they’ve got the powdered wigs and the fake moles and everything!  And then, to top it off, five pirate ghosts show up at the end of the movie.  I mean, my God, I would have loved to have been back in Ludlow in 1782.  Apparently, it was like the New Orleans of colonial New England.

Pilgrims of LudlowPirates of Ludlow

Marquis De Sade of Ludlow

 Still, I have to admit I enjoyed the Demons of Ludlow.  It doesn’t drag as much as The Alpha Incident and this is a film that definitely has more than enough “What the Fuck” appeal to be watchable.  There’s even one sequence — in which one unfortunate citizen ends up getting shot by a musket-holding Pilgrim who suddenly shows up in a mirror — that is actually rather effective.  This is one of those films that people like me tend to defend by citing its “dream-like” qualities.  That may be going a bit too far in this film’s case but it’s still a definite success d’estime.

Trailer: The Thing “Prequel” (Official)

Posted on by Arleigh

If there’s one film which genre fans have been up in arms about being remade it would be John Carpenter’s The Thing. It’s one of those films which just continues to gain a loyal and zealous following despite being a major flop in the box-office when it was first released in 1982. One way producers were able to drop the remake idea was just to set a film as a prequel to the Horror Master’s classic sci-fi horror.

Using a screenplay by Eric Heisserer (which used elements from Ronald D. Moore’s own script for a possible prequel/sequel), 2011’s The Thing will be a prequel set on the ill-fated Norwegian Antarctic Research Station. Dutch-filmmaker Matthijs van Heijningen, Jr. will be doing the directing duties with Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Joel Edgerton and Ulrich Thomsen leading a cast half of which are Norwegian.

The film has been in production since March 2010 and was suppose to have a 2010 October release date. Problems either with the film’s post-production or just problems within Universal Pictures shelved the film for almost a year.

The Thing definitely looks to use Carpenter’s Steadicam and minimalist-style and the trailer shows scenes that seemed lifted right out of Carpenter’s own film. Maybe it was how the trailer was cut, but it also seemed to have more jump-scares than the ’82 classic. Some people will never accept this film even without seeing the final product. I, who consider Carpenter’s film one of the best films ever made in that era, will give this film a look-see before making a final judgement. I thought remaking Dawn of the Dead was going to be a disaster, but that film more than lived it to it’s predecessor and was very good on its own merits. I hope Matthijs van Heijningen, Jr.’s prequel also does just as well.

The Thing is set to have an October 14, 2011 release date.

Site Review’s of Carpenter’s The Thing: Arleigh’s and Leonard’s

Horror Review: Prince of Darkness (dir. by John Carpenter)

Posted on by Arleigh

“Say goodbye to classical reality, because our logic collapses on the subatomic level… into ghosts and shadows.”

John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness is a criminally underrated entry in his canon—a blend of philosophical, apocalyptic horror and supernatural mystery that’s as unsettling as it is deliberately strange. Released in 1987, the film often gets eclipsed by Carpenter classics like The Thing and In the Mouth of Madness. Even so, it stands out as a unique organic link between science-driven paranoia and cosmic horror—the sort of film that grows on you as you unravel its layers.

The setup is simple but immediately offbeat: In a derelict Los Angeles church, Father Loomis (Donald Pleasence, always at his nervous best) stumbles on a swirling green cylinder hidden away in the basement. Loneliness and age hang over Loomis as he realizes this is no mere relic but possibly the essence of absolute evil—the literal embodiment of Satan. Sensing he’s in over his head, the priest reaches out to Professor Birack (Victor Wong), a physicist whose rational mindset is quickly tested by the uncanny. Birack arrives with a diverse team of grad students and lab techs, each bringing curiosity, skepticism, and just enough personality to keep things lively.

What starts as an academic investigation quickly goes off the rails. Strange, shared dreams trouble the researchers—fragmented transmissions from the future, warning of disaster in unsettling, VHS-glitch style. Meanwhile, the area outside the church transforms into a kind of urban wasteland: homeless people, gripped by an unseen force, stumble with zombie-like intent, trapping the group inside. Inside, members fall prey to unsettling phenomena, from unexplained possession to increasingly grotesque violence. There’s a sense that the evil in the cylinder isn’t content to simply stay put—and the combination of supernatural implication and scientific uncertainty gives everything a persistent, gnawing tension.

Carpenter directs the film with measured, stifling precision. His color palette—rotting yellows, bruised greens, washed-out sunlight—creates a perpetually uneasy mood. He uses slow tracking shots and carefully composed frames to ratchet up suspense, and the score (co-composed with Alan Howarth) pulses with ominous synths that buzz beneath all the dialogue, making even the film’s quieter moments feel restless and charged with threat. Compared to the gooey spectacle of The Thing, the terror in Prince of Darkness is more metaphysical—less visible monsters, more eroding reality.

Sound and image work together to keep the audience on edge: moments of unsettling silence are punctuated by visual oddities, like swarms of bugs or the warped geometry of the church’s shadows. The group’s scientific attempts to decode the evil—a jumble of quantum theory, apocalyptic Christian lore, and unsettling mathematics—do more to ramp up anxiety than offer answers. Carpenter seems to delight in ambiguity; the revelations never clarify so much as deepen the void, giving shape to a primordial kind of fear.

The film’s most iconic device is its recurring nightmare sequence, where the group—cut off from the world—witnesses a cryptic, shadowy figure emerging from the church, broadcast as a tachyon transmission from the future. It’s classic Carpenter: deeply unsettling, oddly hypnotic, and open to any number of interpretations. The blending of science fiction and theological horror feels fresh and ambitious, and it’s fair to say these sequences alone have ironically kept the film alive in horror culture discussions and remixes.

The cast, featuring Pleasence and Wong, manages the film’s shifts in tone—moving from banter about theoretical physics to genuine terror with surprising ease. The grad students are likable enough for you to root for, especially Lisa Blount and Jameson Parker, who carry the emotional brunt as things collapse. Alice Cooper’s cameo as a silent, menacing street dweller further anchors the film’s reputation for “unexpected creepy” in the best way possible.

While there are flashes of gore—possessions, injuries, even some memorable stabbings—Carpenter resists making violence the centerpiece. The real horror here is psychological: paranoia, loss of agency, and the collapse of foundational beliefs. Where The Thing was about trusting (or not trusting) your friends, Prince of Darkness is about grappling with a world where even faith and science seem powerless and interchangeable in the face of the unknown.

Thematically, this is Carpenter at his most cerebral and bleak. The notion that neither faith nor science can adequately tackle the unfathomable echoes Lovecraft, yet Carpenter grounds it all in urban decay and deadpan dialogue rather than Gothic flourish. The questions get bigger—what good is faith if truth is poisonous, and what does science matter against a force older than logic? Dialogue about quantum uncertainty and theological paradoxes isn’t there to solve anything, but to make everything less secure.

If the film has a flaw, it’s that its pacing feels deliberately patient—some might say slow. Tension accumulates gradually, and you’re invited to sit in the discomfort as the group loses sleep, loses one another, and loses touch with reality. As the stakes escalate, the line between dream and waking life shreds, leading to an ending that’s haunting, ambiguous, and deeply open-ended. There’s no neat wrap-up or cathartic victory—only trauma, unsolved terror, and a lingering sense that evil never really left, just waited.

It’s this refusal to explain or comfort that gives Prince of Darkness its lasting cult appeal. Carpenter puts cosmic pessimism front and center: knowledge itself stands as a kind of curse, and both faith and reason bend beneath the weight of mystery. Rather than offer solutions, the movie warns about the dangers of peeling back reality’s surface—a theme that’s only grown more unsettling in the years since it was made.

Watching Prince of Darkness now, the film may not fit everyone’s idea of a fun Friday-night scarefest. But if you want horror that’s slow, dense, and sticks with you, this is essential viewing. Carpenter delivers a bleak, hypnotic nightmare about what happens when explanations fail—when the universe itself seems ready to swallow us whole. Whether you’re a die-hard genre fan or someone looking for something different, Prince of Darkness is cult horror at its most unshakable—proof that the scariest stories are often those that leave their deepest secrets unexplained.

Scenes I Love: Assault on Precinct 13

Posted on by Arleigh

I think by now both fellow writers for the site and those who frequent said site know of my love for all and everything John Carpenter. I consider him one of the most underappreciated American filmmakers. All his films contribute something even those where one wonders if he has lost his mojo (I’m looking at you Ghosts of Mars). One of his very first films and one that still resonate with many of his fans is the low-budget and modern remake of Howard Hawk’s Rio Bravo. The latest “Scenes I Love” come from this remake which was called Assault on Precinct 13.

This was a film made for just $100,000 and while the low-budget shows it doesn’t stop Carpenter from creating a grindhouse classic. One of my favorite scenes in this film is the scene chosen. It’s very close to the beginning of the film as a violent street gang called the Street Thunder has vowed a blood vendetta against the LAPD and the citizens of LA. The scene in question show just how far these gangbangers were willing to go with their vendetta.

There’s always been several cardinal rules of grindhouse filmmaker and this scene definitely stays true to the notion that nothing is off-llimits. Carpenter shows just how much he understands this rule. In mainstream films children are oft put in danger but never to the point that they actually die on-screen. There’s always some adult to save them in the end and give the film a happy Hollywood ending. Carpenter doesn’t care for that and this scene proves just how much he doesn’t.

The first time I saw this scene I was surprised, shocked and left speechless. Carpenter had the stones to kill that young girl (and a blond in pigtails at that) with her ice cream cone right on the screen. From that moment on I knew I was in for a ride and I wouldn’t know whether Carpenter would take it easy on his audience or just continue to mess with them. This scene begins a chain reaction of why I love Carpenter films and will continue to love his past, present and future work.

 

Quick Review: John Carpenter’s The Thing

Posted on by Leonard Wilson

When I was little, my family used to have this cable service called WHT. I can’t remember what it stood for, but recall that it was a one channel station that would constantly show movies. It was like Starz for anyone who didn’t want to pony up the extra money for actual HBO at the time. Since it was set up at my Grandparents house (where I lived), sometimes we’d all gather around for a Movie Night on Saturdays. This is something my family’s done often during the years, and the current part of my family does this on Sundays now, premiering films we haven’t seen yet.

It was one of these Saturday nights that I first witnessed John Carpenter’s The Thing. I had to go to bed for it, being as young as I was for the film, but with the door open I could hear the music and sounds from my bed. At one point, I climbed out of the top bunk and snuck to the stairs, watching the film in my PJ’s. My family would get pretty engrossed with movies, so they never bothered to glance in my direction. After all, this was the first time any of them were seeing this film, and they all loved the original.

I was doing fine until that Husky’s head split open. If I just kept my mouth shut, I could have seen the whole film. After that, I couldn’t stop screaming, “Omigod! The doggie!!” I was met with cries of “Go to Bed!!” from just about everyone. Even though I climbed back into bed, there was no way I was able to fall asleep. Every gunshot, every yell caused me to bundle myself under my blankets with my eyes wide open.

Since then, The Thing has become a family favorite, a reliable go to film for any time it’s cold or rainy or dark. I even showcased it for my friends in Oregon who hadn’t seen it before and they also had almost the same reaction to that poor dog.

So, what is The Thing?

Other than maybe being John Carpenter’s strongest film (which many will argue, because there’s always a place for Big Trouble in Little China for me), it’s a great example of a work in progress that was just done and put to print. Like Jaws, the film ran into some problems. Special FX member Rob Bottin suffered from exhaustion from working so hard on the film. They had some issues with coming up with the final representation of The Thing that wouldn’t appear too cartoon-like or animatronic. There was even a fire during the taping of a huge effect shot involving a body ripping open because of the chemicals that were put into the latex workup. Even though the movie takes place in Antarctica (which I believe roughly 6 months of night), the film actually has a day and night cycle, having filmed in Juneau, Alaska. On top of that, with all of the money thrown at the film, it pretty much tanked at the box office. As quirky as all those elements are, the movie just works because of both the isolation of the characters, the trust issues that occur as a result of the events, and the claustrophobic space they live in. In some ways, it’s very similar to Ridley Scott’s Alien to me (sans the trust issues), but with much better lighting. The Thing is pretty much a cult classic at this point.

The story of The Thing is boosted if you’ve seen the original The Thing From Another World with the late James Arness, but it’s not a requirement. It starts off with a dog being chased by a helicopter, who manages to reach a Research Outpost in Antarctica, occupied by Twelve members. The crew soon discovers that that things aren’t exactly what they seem, but neither are they. Unlike the original movie, the creature in this film has the ability to absorb and mimic whatever organism comes into contact with (which actually is pretty creepy in its own right, that sense of violation). Trust plays a huge part in the story as the crew fight to save themselves while still trying to keep a close eye on who’s walking among them.

The atmosphere of the film is really augmented by the sound. As old as the film is, the sound quality holds up incredibly well on a surround system. The wind from the snow, bullets ricocheting, the panting of dogs and of course the dripping of blood all sound like someone put a microphone right up to all of them to capture it as best they could. The outpost, as big as it is, actually has a lot of narrow hallways with canisters stacked to the sides in many places, giving the place a cramped feel. Add to that Ennio Morricone’s haunting theme and you’ve got a recipe for horror. I mean, for someone who’s scored fantastic Westerns, one would think that Morricone and a Carpenter film might not gel well, but it really does.

Visually, compared to films today, The Thing is pretty tame for it’s effects, and some (the final rendering of the Thing itself, in particular) can be a little dated, but not so much that you should groan about it. At the time, however, it was considered gory (and I guess when you’re in shock on seeing a dog’s face split open, there’s someone smiling somewhere saying to themselves..”Yeah, that worked right there”).

The Thing marks another John Carpenter / Kurt Russell pairing. Russell’s R.J. MacReady is the figure we follow through the film. It’s through him that we try to make sense of everything going on. In one scene that involves him huddled in a corner with a flamethower and some dynamite, defending himself from his friends, you get the notion that you want to be on that guy’s side. Even if following him means getting blown up to a million pieces, because it really becomes difficult to trust anyone in this film. Paranoia plays a huge role.

The cast is rounded out by a few other notable members. Richard Dysart (L.A. Law, Prophecy) plays Doc Copper, and is actually pretty good here. Keith David (Requiem for a Dream, They Live) plays Childs, who really doesn’t believe in any of that “voodoo bullshit”. Thomas Waites (The Warriors) is Windows, who for me, represents the scared kid of the group. He’s not sure what’s up, he just wants to be away from it. Then, of course, you have Wilford Brimley, who seems to realize the problem but takes measures in his own hands rather telling the others just how bad things could get.

Overall, The Thing is highly recommended. I know there’s a remake in the works, and part of me is a little excited for it, hoping that it’s done well. I can’t imagine the filmmakers today running into half of the issues they had in the original.

The Thing also marks one of the best Director commentaries I’ve heard. If you have a chance to watch the film with the Director track on (which I believe Russell also has a hand in with Carpenter in talking about the film), it’s pretty interesting what they elaborate on. Also noteworthy (and funny) is Rob Bottin’s story on the effect sequence that started a fire.  That’s definitely worth a listen.

Quick Review: In the Mouth of Madness (dir. by John Carpenter, 1995)

Posted on by Leonard Wilson

In the Mouth of Madness is one of those films that in essence seems like a good idea, but later becomes strange and unwieldily to the point that you have to ask yourself “What am I watching, and why did I do so?”

Jumping right of of Memoirs of an Invisible Man, In the Mouth of Madness reunites Sam Neill (Jurassic Park) with Carpenter. Neill plays John Trent, an Insurance Investigator whose latest case deals with a horror writer named Sutter Cane (Jurgen Prochnow). Cane’s novels have the strange ability to affect anyone who reads them. After Cane’s own agent/publicist falls his influence and is abruptly killed, Trent is sent to find Cane (who is missing) and help bring back his latest story , “In the Mouth of Madness” to the agency. When he sets off on his mission, he slowly finds his sense of reality unraveling.

If Neill’s character is the Scully, Julie Carmen (Fright Night Part II) plays the Mulder in this equation. Sent along with Trent, her character witnesses more of the horror than he does. She’s the audience witness for a while and proves Trent wrong when he’s ready to disbelieve what’s occurring. She good here, but her reactions, mixed with Trent’s had me slapping my forehead. I’ll get to that in a moment.

I’m told that the film is something of a homage to H.P. Lovecraft’s stories. While I’ve never read Lovecraft, I’m somewhat familiar with the Cthulhu myths and there does seem to be some tentacled beasts near the last third of the film.  Overall, some of those references escape me. The movie’s fun in a Donnie Darko mind bending way and it’s that strangeness that actually helps the film a little.

I hate the fact that Sam Neill’s character simply  won’t accept that what’s happening is real. I’m not a big fan of stuffing square pegs into round holes. If it doesn’t fit – you’re being told “This is how it goes”, and you’re seeing that’s how it’s happening – then why in the world are you still holding on to the same train of thought that isn’t working / fitting the situation? I found that extremely annoying. It’s almost the opposite of Slither, where it didn’t take long for the characters to recognize that:

1.) People were becoming zombies.

-And-

2.) It just wasn’t normal for the situation. Accept and adjust. Cover your mouth.

Overall, it was okay, but it really needed something. I’m just not sure what.

Trailer: John Carpenter’s The Ward

Posted on by Arleigh

It has been over ten years since one of the masters of horror has released a full-length feature film. Sure, John Carpenter has filmed episodes for two seasons of Showtime’s horror anthology, Masters of Horror. But it seemed like the bad experience he had in filming his last feature-length, 2001’s Ghosts of Mars, might have soured him in doing anything for the big-screen.

That was then and this is now 2011 and Carpenter looks to make his return to the big-screen with the horror film, The Ward. It will star one of the industry’s rising stars in Amber Heard with veteran performers both young (Danielle Panabaker, Lyndsy Fonseca) and old (Jared Harris) backing her up.

The Ward was first show in this past 2010 Toronto International Film Festival and the reaction to the film was generally positive with most saying this was a good return for one of the horror genre’s most admired and beloved filmmakers.

The film looks to be set in a 1960’s mental institution with Heard’s character the center of attention. Mysterious happenings involving the staff, current patients and the presence of a ghost seem to be the main plot of the film.

Will Carpenter’s bag of filmmaking skills remain as it was before he left feature-length filmmaking a decade ago or will he show that he’s learned a few new tricks to add to his considerable skillset? The film certainly seem to echo some of the Japanese-style gothic and ghost story films which still remains a staple of Japanese horror cinema. In the end, I’m just glad to see one of the masters of horror back in the driver’s seat. Time for him to show some of the young horror filmmakers nowadays how to do it.

Quickie Review: Masters of Horror – Cigarette Burns (dir. by John Carpenter)

Posted on by Arleigh

Cigarette Burns was John Carpenter’s episodic contribution to the Showtime series, Masters of Horror. This 13-episode horror anthology thought up by Mick Garris (a fellow horror director best known for adapting Stephen King stories) which includes eleven other directors known for their work in the horror genre.

John Carpenter works off of a screenplay that posits an interesting premise about an infamous film that caused the audience it was shown to the first time to go homicidal. The story itself involves a man known in the film community as someone who can find and hunt down any copy of film no matter how rare. Norman Reedus (he of Blade II, The Boondock Saints) plays the cinephile who takes on the job to hunt down a copy of this infamous film titled Le Fin Absolue Du Monde. His client was played with relish by resident weirdo Udo Kier. Really, Kier could be given any role and he’ll add his brand of idiosyncracy and weirdness to the part. In Cigarette Burns he plays an obsessive fan of the rare film to the hilt. His contribution to the the climactic ending will bring a smile to gorehounds everywhere. Alas, it’s Kier’s performance that’s the highlight of the acting in Cigarette Burns. Reedus’ performance as Kirby Sweetman the cinephile leaves much to be desired. The screenplay itself was already average, but with genuine ideas that could be explored if the acting could raise it beyond its C-grade pedigree, but Reedus wasn’t up to it.

Carpenter’s directing really can’t be faulted for the major flaws in the screenplay and in his lead’s performance. It’s not early Carpenter, but his work in Cigarette Burns was much better than what he’s done in his last couple films. In fact, this tv show entry in Carpenter’s body of work resembles one of his more underrated films. I am talking about his ode to Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft with In the Mouth of Madness. Instead of a book influencing the sanity of the reader, its a film that does it instead. A film that may or may not have divine origins that doesn’t just turn its viewers homicidal but bend their sense of reality.

I think with a better cast and a screenplay that’s worked on a bit more by its writers, Cigarette Burns could’ve been a great episode in the Masters of Horror anthology or, better yet, become a full-fledged feature film. Instead, it’s just a very good work from Carpenter with great gore sequences (courtesy of KNB EFX), but brought low due to a very rough screenplay and a lead actor in Norman Reedus who seemed stoned, drunk or both throughout his entire performance. It’s not something great, but a good showing from Carpenter that said he’s not as washed-up as many seem to be calling him.