Today’s horror on the lens is a made-for-tv movie directed by Wes Craven.
First televised in 1984, Invitation to Hell is a wonderfully over-the-top depiction of what happens when an engineer (Robert Urich) sells out and goes to work for a big evil corporation. Long story short, Satan (in the form of Susan Lucci) takes over his family. Admittedly, this film does start slowly but, in the end, it’s a lot of fun.
A lot of people die over the course of this 2005 film but none of them are particularly likable so who cares.
A remake of the Herschell Gordon Lewis classic (though Lewis’s film only featured Two Thousand Maniacs!), 2,001 Maniacs is about a small town called Pleasant Valley in Georgia. During the Civil War, Union soldiers killed 2,001 of the residents of Pleasant Valley so, as a result, the angry spirits of the town will not be happy until they’ve killed 2,001 Northerners. Luckily, for them, some yankee college students come driving through on their way to Daytona Beach for Spring Break. That means it’s time to bring out the hooks, the blades, the flames, and all the other things that can be used to dismember people on screen. It’s a bloody good time in Pleasant Valley.
The mayor of Pleasant Valley is played by Robert Englund and, if nothing else, Englund brings a lot of demented glee to the role. One thing that I’ve always liked about Englund is that, even though he could probably get away with it, he’s always refused to coast on the fact that he’s a horror icon. No matter the quality of the film in which he’s appearing, Englund always goes all out and gives a memorable performance. As played by Englund, the mayor comes across as being an affable and welcoming guy, or at least he does until he starts killing people. The viewers automatically know that the mayor’s a bad guy because they know the type of role in which Robert Englund typically gets cast. But, and this is the important, you can at least understand why the film’s victims didn’t automatically run in fear as soon as they met him. The mayor is all about hospitality. (That, and bloody revenge.)
Anyway, it’s tempting to view 2,001 Maniacs as being some sort of statement about Confederate war memorials but …. eh. I mean, again, it’s tempting but I think it’s ultimately kind of pointless. This is not a subversive film. This is not a film that’s attempting to scratch the surface of any major issues. This is just another gory film that examines the amount of ways someone’s body can pulled apart. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. There’s a lot of classic horror films that are centered around people dying in gory ways. The problem with 2,001 Maniacs is that, since none of the people dying are particularly interesting, you don’t really care about how they die or even the fact that they’re dead. “Oh hey,” you find yourself saying, “at least I won’t have to listen to that guy talk anymore.”
Despite being a bit on the dull side for most of its running time, 2,001 Maniacs does have an effective final few minutes. There’s a big battle between a survivor and a ghost that is surprisingly well-directed and would have been exciting if we actually cared about whether or not the survivor was actually going to …. well, survive. As for the film itself, it ends on a properly macabre note. I actually laughed at the film’s ending, even though perhaps I shouldn’t have. Again, it all comes down to not really caring that much about anyone in the movie.
Anyway, 2,001 Maniacs didn’t do much for me. The Lewis version is still the version to go with. Thank God for Robert Englund, though. That man can act.
From 1986’s Deadly Friend, directed by Wes Craven:
Now, it should be noted that this scene was not in Craven’s initial cut of the film. Craven envisioned Deadly Friend as being a melancholy love story about a teenage boy who brings his dead girlfriend back to life. Elvira, the lady who loses her head, originally had a much less graphic death scene but Warner Bros. wants to take advantage of Craven’s reputation for being a horror director so they demanded a more extreme version and that’s what Craven delivered.
In my opinion, this scene is just ludicrous enough to work. The studio’s demands were a bit silly so Craven supplied them with perhaps the silliest death scene that he ever directed. That said, I do think Craven’s original version of Deadly Friend sounds like a nicer movie.
How one reacts to this film from Mexico will depend on what one prioritizes when it comes to watching movies. Do you watch movies for their plot or do you watch them for their style? Do you care about what the filmmaker has to say or do you just want to see how they say it?
Of course, this doesn’t have to be an either/or situation. Just because a film is heavy on style, that doesn’t mean that it’s thematically shallow. At the same time, just because a film has something to say, that doesn’t mean that it has to be dry and boring. It’s just that, in the case of Dark Forces, the film is almost all style and that seems to be by design.
The plot of Dark Forces is not always easy to follow and what can be followed is often pure nonsense. A former (or maybe current, it’s never really clear) criminal named Max (Mauricio Aspe) is searching for his sister, who is being held hostage by a gangster. Max checks into a hotel and searches for clues to where he sister is being held. There are a variety of eccentric people living in the hotel, some of whom appear to be supernatural in origin and some of whom are probably just sleazy hotel denizens. There’s a mysterious, femme fatale-style waitress. There’s an albino who is also a psychic because movies like this always seem to feature an albino psychic. And then there’s this mysterious man played by transgressive filmmaker Nick Zedd. Zedd’s character is named Demonio and he says that he can help Max for a price and can you guess what’s going on?
So, if you’re watching for a coherent plot, you’ll probably be disappointed. If you allow yourself to get in any way emotionally invested in Max’s quest, you’ll probably be disappointed. Narratively, Dark Forces somehow manages to be both totally incoherent and totally predictable at the same time. That’s such an accomplishment but I can’t help but think that it was somewhat intentional on the part of the filmmakers.
Where Dark Forces succeeds is as an exercise in pure style. Between the Argento-inspired lighting scheme, the combination of neon and shadows, the constantly skewed camera angles, and the dream-like mix of flashback and the present (or, at least, I assumed some of what I saw in the movie was meant to be a flashback), Dark Forces plays out like an extremely flamboyant dream. Visually, it’s enjoyable to take in and, at 81 minutes, it ends right before all of the stylistic excesses gets exhausting. Unfortunately, all of that style doesn’t make it any easier to follow the plot but at least there’s always something to look at.
Anyway, Dark Forces is a film that I obviously had mixed feelings about. The plot annoyed me but the film’s visual style held my attention. At its best, the film is vibrant pop art. At its worse, it’s an empty exercise in tilting the camera. As to whether or not you enjoy this film, it all depends on what matters the most to you, style or coherence.
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 lets the visuals do the talking!
This October, we’ve been using 4 Shots From 4 Films to pay tribute to some of our favorite horror directors! Today, we recognize the father and master of modern horror, Wes Craven!
4 Shots From 4 Films
The Last House on the Left (1972, dir. by Wes Craven)
Deadly Blessing (1981, dir by Wes Craven)
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, dir. by Wes Craven)
Scream (1996, dir by Wes Craven)
There’s really only one lesson to be learned from the 1972’s Night of the Lepus.
There is absolutely no way to make a rabbit look menacing.
Oh sure, you can film them in slow motion. And you can add a lot of weird sound effects and you can do a lot of extreme close-ups to make them look bigger than they actually are. You can do a lot of stuff as a part of your effort to make a rabbit into a scary monster but you’ll pretty much be wasting you time. Rabbits are simply not intimidating. There’s a reason why the idea of a killer rabbit was so funny in Monty Python and The Holy Grail.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m enough of country girl that I know the damage that wild rabbits can do. They eat crops. They eat bark. They chew on irrigations lines. If you’re a farmer or even just someone who wants to maintain a nice garden, you know that rabbits can be a nuisance.
However, that doesn’t change the fact that there’s nothing really menacing rabbits. Rabbits are cute and, for the most part, they’re fairly timid. They’re aware that, in the brutal world of nature, they’re designated prey and, as a result, they try to stay out of the way. Rabbits are shy and they hop around and there’s absolutely nothing frightening about them.
(We actually have quite a few rabbits in my neighborhood. It’s not unusual for me to see one hopping through the front yard. Whenever I go for a run in the early evening hours, it’s not unusual for me to see several rabbits hopping through a nearby park.)
Night of the Lepus is a strange film that attempts to make rabbits frightening. It takes place in the southwest and it features a bunch of mutated, giant rabbits who hop around the desert in slow motion and who savagely kill everyone that they meet. The plot makes it sound like a spoof but Night of the Lepus takes itself very seriously, which needless to say is a mistake. It even opens with documentary footage that’s designed to make sure that we understand that rabbits are actually very dangerous. It’s all very odd and you have to wonder why, out of all the wild animals in the southwest, the filmmakers decided to go with the least intimidating creature possible. I mean, there are coyotes and Gila monsters in the desert. Imagine having a giant coyote coming at you. That would be scary!
Instead, we get giant rabbits, attacking a cast of actors who definitely deserved better. Stuart Whitman, Janet Leigh, Rory Calhoun, DeForest Kelly, they’re all talented actors and, in this film, they’re reduced to fighting a bunch of giant rabbits. No one comes across particularly well, though just about everyone in the cast does manage to keep a straight face. Still, the problem is that the rabbits are just too damn cute. Even after they’ve killed half the cast, you still don’t want anything to happen to them. When Whitman and Calhoun opened fire on a group of rabbits and killed a few of them, I actually found myself getting mad at the humans. Leave the rabbits alone! I thought. You humans have had your chance! This the land of rabbits now!
Anyway, Night of the Lepus is silly but it’s kind of fun, just because the giant rabbits are cute. They’re kind of like the giant guinea pigs that attacked South Park a few seasons ago. They’re murderous but they’re adorable!
For today’s horror on the lens, we have a 1973 made-for-TV movie called Satan’s School For Girls.
After her sister turns up dead, Elizabeth (Pamela Franklin) refuses to accept that official conclusion that it was a suicide. Instead, Elizabeth is convinced that it was murder and that it has something to do with the exclusive school that her sister attended, the Salem Academy for Women.
Well, honestly, the Salem part is a dead giveaway. I think we can all agree on that.
Anyway, this movie features a Satanic cult, an old school clique, and plenty of early of 70s fashion choices. It may be silly but it’s also definitely entertaining.
Enjoy!
In honor of Canadian Thanksgiving, today’s horror scene that I love comes from one of the greatest of the Canadian slasher films, 1980’s Prom Night!
Remember everyone …. Prom Night! Everything is alright!
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 lets the visuals do the talking!
This October, we’ve been using 4 Shots From 4 Films to pay tribute to some of our favorite horror directors! Today, in honor of Canadian Thanksgiving, we recognize the talents of the one and only David Cronenberg!
4 Shots From 4 Films
Scanners (1981, dir by David Cronenberg)
The Dead Zone (1983, dir. by David Cronenberg)
The Fly (1986, dir. by David Cronenberg)
Naked Lunch (1991, dir by David Cronenberg)
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a film that I’ve shared four times previously on the Shattered Lens. The first time was in 2011 and then I shared it again in 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, and 2019! Well, you know what? I’m sharing it again because it’s a classic, it’s Halloween, and everyone should see it! (And let’s face it — it’s entirely possible that some of the people reading this post right now didn’t even know this site existed in any of those previous years. Why should they be deprived of Caligari just because they only now arrived?)
Released in 1920, the German film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is one of those films that we’ve all heard about but far too few of us have actually seen. Like most silent films, it requires some patience and a willingess to adapt to the narrative convictions of an earlier time. However, for those of us who love horror cinema, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari remains required viewing. Not only did it introduce the concept of the twist ending (M. Night Shyamalan owes his career to this film) but it also helped to introduce German expressionism to the cinematic world.
My initial reaction to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was that it simply wasn’t that scary. It was certainly interesting to watch and I was happy that I was finally experiencing this film that I had previously only read about. However, the film itself was obviously primitive and it was difficult for my mind (which takes CGI for granted) to adjust to watching a silent film. I didn’t regret watching the film but I’d be lying (much like a first-year film student) if I said that I truly appreciated it after my first viewing.
But you know what? Despite my dismissive initial reaction, the film stayed with me. Whereas most modern films fade from the memory about 30 minutes after the end credits,The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari has stuck with me and the night after I watched it, I even had a nightmare in which Dr. Caligari was trying to break into my apartment. Yes, Dr. Caligari looked a little bit silly staring through my bedroom window but it still caused me to wake up with my heart about to explode out of my chest.
In short, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari passes the most important test that a horror film can pass. It sticks with you even after it’s over.
For the curious with an open mind to watch with, here is Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari!
Enjoy!
Through the Shattered Lens 