For today’s horror on the lens, how about a little werwolf action?
In the 1974 made-for-TV movie, Scream of the Wolf, Peter Graves is a writer who is asked to help solve a series of mysterious murders. The fact that both human footprints and wolf tracks have been found at each murder scene has led some people to assume that the killer must be a werewolf! Will Graves be able to prove them wrong or will it turn out that they are right? Graves calls in a famous hunter (Clint Walker) to help track down the killer but it turns out that the hunter has secrets of his own.
I’m going to guess that, like Baffled!, Scream of the Wolf was a pilot disguised a movie. I assume that the hope was that the movie would lead to a series where Peter Graves would solve a different paranormal mystery every week.
Well, that series never materialized by Scream of the Wolf is still an enjoyable film. The screenplay was by none other than Richard Matheson while made-for-TV horror specialist Dan Curtis sat in the director’s chair.
In the end, Scream of the Wolf is only 72 minutes long and I know for a fact that you don’t have anything better to do right now. I watched this movie two months ago with Patrick Smith and the Late Night Movie Gang and we had a blast.
Listen, as someone who loves Italian horror and who feels that Lucio Fulci made some of the best (if most misunderstood) horror films of all time, I certainly wish A Cat In The Brain was a great film. Every time I watch it, I find myself hoping that it will turn out to be better than I know it’s going to be. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t necessarily think that A Cat In the Brain was a terrible film. Especially when compared to some of the other films that Fulci directed towards the end of his career, A Cat In The Brain is competently made and it certainly proves that Fulci had a better sense of humor than many critics give him credit for. It’s not really a bad film. It’s just a disappointing one.
To understand why, you have to understand just who Lucio Fulci was and why horror fans hold him in such high regard. Fulci was an Italian director, one who was responsible for some of the most visually impressive horror films of all time. Even though Fulci did not start his career working in the horror genre, it’s those films that for which he is best remembered. Many of his films, like Zombi 2, City of the Living Dead, The House By The Cemetery, and The Beyond, are rightfully remembered as classics. By design, these movies often felt like filmed nightmares and they remain influential to this very day. Literally every zombie film that has been released over the past few decades owes a debt to Fulci and The Beyond trilogy is perhaps as close as any director has ever gotten to truly capturing the feel of H.P. Lovecraft on film.
Unfortunately, many critics refuses to look past the violent content of Fulci’s films. In some countries, his movies were banned outright. In America, Fulci’s masterpiece, The Beyond, was released in a butchered, compromised form. Following the release of his controversial and disturbing slasher film, The New York Ripper,Fulci’s career went into decline and, suffering from ill-health and often in desperate need of money, he found himself directing low-budget films that were unworthy of his considerable talents. It’s one of the sadder stories in the history of Italian horror.
A Cat In The Brain was one of Fulci’s final films and it stars none other than … Lucio Fulci! Fulci plays a horror director named Lucio Fulci. Fulci is concerned that all of his recent work in the horror genre is starting to mentally damage him. For instance, after editing a scene about cannibalism, Fulci goes to a nearby restaurant and orders a steak. However, whenever he starts to eat his steak, Fulci flashes back to the movie that he’s just directed. When he goes home, the sound of the handyman using a chainsaw causes Fulci to think about a scene that he filmed, one that involved a killer chopping up a body. When a frustrated Fulci kicks a bucket of red paint, he visualizes blood. Meeting a German reporter causes Fulci to fantasize about a Nazi orgy. Is Fulci losing it? Could it be that violent movies really do cause violent urges?
Worried about his mental health, Fulci goes to see a psychiatrist, Professor Egon Schwarz (David L. Thompson). Schwarz puts Fulci order hypnosis and tells Fulci that, over the next few weeks, he will think that he has “done terrible things.” It turns out that Professor Schwarz is an aspiring serial killer. Schwarz wants to go on a killing spree and have Lucio Fulci take responsibility for it…
To be honest, the plot description probably makes A Cat In The Brain sound like it’s a lot more subversive than it actually is. It has all the ingredients to be a great satire but, unfortunately, Fulci’s heart never seems to really be in the movie. Oddly, considering that the movie is literally about his life, Fulci directs A Cat In The Brain in a rather detached and clinical fashion. There’s none of the visual poetry that distinguished Fulci’s best work.
Even worse, probably over half of this film is made up of clips that were lifted from other Fulci films. Unfortunately, the scenes don’t come from Fulci’s good films. Don’t go into A Cat In The Brain expecting to see anything from Zombi 2 or Don’t Torture A Duckling. Instead, all of the clips come from stuff like Touch of Death and The Ghosts of Sodom, films that largely represent Lucio Fulci’s declining years.
However, there is one good thing about A Cat In the Brain (beyond the title, which I think is adorable): the film ends with Fulci happy and literally sailing into the sunset. Considering both Fulci’s lasting influence as a filmmaker and the sad details of his final years, it’s hard not to feel that A Cat In The Brain gave Fulci the final scene that this talented director deserved.
There are a lot of negative things that you can say about 2017. In the future, when historians look back of the second decade of the 21st century, I imagine that they will point to 2017 as being one of the worst years in American history. The country is divided. The world seems like a scary and dangerous place. The outlook for the future feels bleak. It’s not so much that people are angry. Instead, it’s that there doesn’t seem to be any end in sight for all the anger. It’s difficult to imagine that the differences that currently divide the world are ever going to be resolved.
However, there is one thing that can be said about 2017. It’s been a very good year for horror cinema.
Sure, there have been a few less-than-perfect films. Rings left most people disappointed. Does anyone remember The Bye Bye Man or have we said farewell to the memories of that unfortunate film? While The Dark Tower was never specifically a horror movie, it’s still not easy to think of any other Stephen King adaptation that has been greeted with such indifference. The less said about Tom Cruise’s The Mummy, the better.
But even with all that in mind, there have been some truly outstanding horror movies released this year. Movies like Get Out, It, and The Belko Experiment will be well-remembered long after the more “traditional” films of 2017 have faded from the collective memory. I would go as far as to argue that David Lynch’s revival of Twin Peaks should itself be considered an 18-hour horror movie. Maybe it is because the world seems like such a dark place right now. Maybe, at this point, horror movies are the only movies that accurately reflect the way many people are feeling about the present and the future. For whatever reason, 2017 has been a great year for horror.
Really, we wouldn’t be surprised. Way back in January, things got off to a good start with the release of Split. Split was a film that not many people were expecting to be impressive. Just consider: the film was coming out in January, which is when the worst films are usually released. (The theory is that everyone’s too busy with the Oscars to notice that studios are desperately trying to write off all of the losers that they misguidedly greenlit for production the previous year.) Split was directed by M. Night Shyamalan, a formerly respected director whose last few films had been disappointing. Finally, the film’s plot just didn’t sound that good: James McAvoy plays a man with multiple personalities who kidnaps three teenage girls (Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, and Jessica Sula) and holds them captive. Throughout the film, McAvoy cycles through his different personalities and the girls try to find a way to escape before McAvoy turns into the Beast.
And yet somehow, Split works. It’s a genuinely scary and unsettling film, one that left me feeling paranoid for days after I watched it. From the minute that the film started, it grabbed hold of me and it did not let go for two hours. I watched the movie and I wondered what would happen if I ever found myself in the same situation as the kidnapped girls. Would I be able to survive? Would I be able to escape? Or would I just be another victim of the Beast? It’s a deeply frightening film, one that feels like a waking nightmare at its most intense.
Obviously, a lot of credit has to go to James McAvoy, who is brilliant in a role that would have brought out the worst instincts in a lesser actor. It’s a showy role and there had to be considerable temptation to go overboard. And there are a few times when McAvoy embraces the more theatrical possibilities of the role. However, in his best scenes, McAvoy is surprisingly subtle. Yes, he does a lot of different voices. Yes, his body language alters from personality to personality. But McAvoy is at his best when he just allows his facial expression to subtly suggest that he has turned into someone else. McAvoy is frightening but, at times, he’s also rather pathetic. Whenever McAvoy shows up, you never know what he’s going to do. He keeps you off-balance.
As good as McAvoy is, M. Night Shyamalan also deserves a lot of credit for Split. For a film about a man with 23 warring personalities, Split is refreshingly direct and straight forward. There’s none of the cloying cleverness that cheapened some of Shyamalan’s other films. Instead, Split is simply a good, scary film for a really scary world.
Today’s horror scene that I love is, much like The Haunted Castle and The Monster, less a scene and more an entire movie.
In 1910, Thomas Edison produced what is thought to be the first ever film version of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein! Clocking in at 12 minutes and 41 seconds, this film was directed by J. Searle Dawley and stars Charles Ogle as the monster.
Admittedly, the surviving prints of this 107 year-old movie are not in the greatest condition. But I still think it’s effectively surreal and, in its way, quite creepy. While it always takes a while for modern audiences to get used to the more theatrical acting styles of the silent films, Charles Ogle still makes for a very memorable monster. I especially enjoy the tinted scenes where the monster comes to life. In the video below, it start around the 2:18 mark and it’s truly a scene that I love!
4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films is all about letting the visuals do the talking.
This October, I am going to be using our 4 Shots From 4 Films feature to pay tribute to some of my favorite horror directors, in alphabetical order! That’s right, we’re going from Argento to Zombie in one month!
Today’s director in Lamberto Bava, one of the most underrated directors in the history of Italian horror cinema.
For today’s horror on the lens, we have a 1975 made-for-television movie called The Dead Don’t Die!
The Dead Don’t Die takes place in Chicago during the 1930s. George Hamilton is a sailor who comes home just in time to witness his brother being executed for a crime that he swears he didn’t commit. Hamilton is convinced that his brother was innocent so he decides to launch an investigation of his own. This eventually leads to Hamilton not only being attacked by dead people but also discovering a plot involving a mysterious voodoo priest!
Featuring atmospheric direction for Curtis Harrington and a witty script by Robert Bloch, The Dead Don’t Die is an enjoyable horror mystery. Along with George Hamilton, the cast includes such luminaries of “old” Hollywood as Ray Milland, Ralph Meeker, Reggie Nalder, and Joan Blondell. (Admittedly, George Hamilton is not the most convincing sailor to ever appear in a movie but even his miscasting seems to work in a strange way.)
Before I tell you too much about it, I do need to provide a few caveats. In 1969, Mexican director Rene Cardona released a film called La Horripilante bestia humana. When that film was released in the United States in 1972, it was retitled Night of the Bloody Apes. The film was also badly dubbed into English. The version that I watched was Night of the Bloody Apes, the dubbed version. This editing in this version was notably ragged. I don’t know if that was the result of the American distributors cutting scenes or if the Mexican version was just as bad. American distributors were notorious for roughly editing foreign-language films but then again, director Rene Cardona was notorious for not exactly being the world’s most competent filmmaker.
I guess what I’m saying is that, for all I know, La Horripilante bestia humana could have been the greatest monster movie ever made before it was transformed into Night of the Bloody Apes. However, I kind of doubt it.
Night of the Bloody Apes opens, like so many of Rene Cardona’s films, with a wrestling match. Lucy Osorio (Norma Lazareno) is a famous wrestler who, during a match, seriously injures her opponent. This leads to Lucy having a crisis of conscience. Her boyfriend, Lt. Martinez (Armando Silvestre) tells her not to worry about it. Her opponent will be fine and everyone understands that injuries are just a part of wrestling. But Lucy isn’t so sure. Is the fame worth it if it means hurting other people?
WELL, IS IT!?
Don’t worry too much about Lucy, though. Immediately after providing Lucy with a huge subplot, the film pretty much abandons her. Once Lt. Martienz encourages her not to give up, Lucy only appears occasionally throughout film, usually while naked in her dressing room. Whatever inner conflicts she was dealing with, she apparently resolved them while no one was looking. (This is one reason why I suspect that the film was re-edited by its American distributor.)
The film moves on to another plot. Dr. Krallman (José Elías Moreno) is desperately trying to save his son’s life. His angelic and kind of annoying son, who never says an unkind word about anything, is dying of leukemia. Dr. Krallman thinks that he can save him by removing his defective heart and replacing it with the strong, healthy heart of gorilla.
Sure, why not?
Working in secret with the help of his deformed assistant, Dr. Krallman performs the operation. (Cardona splices in footage of actual open heart surgery.) His son survives but at what cost? As a result of having a gorilla’s heart, Dr. Krallman’s son transforms into a body builder wearing a caveman mask. His son is no longer a sweet, angelic, and dying. Now, he’s a monosyllabic brute who runs around the city at night, attacking and killing women. Lt. Martinez is assigned to the case but that doesn’t mean much because Lt. Matinez is kind of an idiot.
So, yes, Night of the Bloody Apes is one strange movie. Actually, it’s more of a random collection of scenes than a movie. It’s a mix of totally gratuitous nudity, over-the-top gore, random wrestling footage, actual open heart surgery footage, and scenes of the man-ape running through the city. The film never seems to be quite sure whether the monster is actually an ape or some sort of hybrid. Sometimes, he runs like an ape. Sometimes, he staggers like Lon Chaney, Jr. playing the Wolfman after having had a drink or two. It’s a very odd film.
And it’s the oddness of it all that makes the film watchable. Some things are so weird that you just have to watch them once and that’s a fairly accurate description of Night of the Bloody Apes. You probably won’t watch it a second time though. It may be weird enough to sit through once but it’s never as compulsively rewatchable as an Ed Wood film or something like The Horror of Party Beach. Once is enough.
Originally released way back in 1974, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre continues to be one of the most iconic and influential horror films of all time.
Not only did the film terrify generations of filmgoers, it also undoubtedly inspired many people who lived up north to swear that they would never visit Texas. (Speaking as a Texan, I appreciate it!) So powerful was the impact of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre that it is regularly cited as being one of the first “gore” films, despite the fact that barely a drop of blood is seen throughout the entire film. Instead, what is seen is Sally (played by Marilyn Burns) screaming while running and Leatherface (Gunnar Hansen) dancing with that chainsaw.
So, how did a group of hippies in Austin come to make one of the most famous movies of all time? That is the question that is answered in the 2004 book, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Companion. Written by Stefan Jaworzyn and featuring a foreword by Gunnar Hansen, this breezy and entertaining book contains almost everything you could possibly want to know about this film. The book is largely an oral history, featuring lengthy quotes from the film’s cast and crew. (For the most part, Jaworzyn allows the interviews speak for themselves and only occasionally interjects any editorial commentary.) Along with detailing the film’s infamously difficult production (with Marilyn Burns nearly being driven to the point of an actual breakdown and Hansen, an otherwise sensitive poet, coming close to being possessed by his murderous character at one point), the companion also deals with crimes of Ed Gein and Tobe Hooper’s career both before and after his best known film.
Most interesting, to me, were the sections that dealt with how the head of the Texas Film Commission helped to secure The Texas Chainsaw Massacre a national distribution deal. Considering that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre basically portrayed Texas as being a place where you could get killed if you made a wrong turn, the involvement of the Texas Film Commission may seem strange at first. Some of the interviews in the book seem to suggest that the head of the Commission had a crush on Marilyn Burns.
It’s an entertaining book, even if I don’t agree with everything that Jaworzyn says. (He calls Psycho overrated at one point.) With the recent deaths of Marilyn Burns, Gunnar Hansen, and Tobe Hooper, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Companion now serves as something of a tribute to these three artists and the film that, to the surprise of everyone, changed cinema forever.
There’s a long tradition of venerable horror franchises claiming that their latest installment is “the final chapter.” The Friday the 13th franchise declared that the fourth part would be the final chapter and then promptly announced that part five would be a new beginning. As long as a franchise is still making a profit, nothing truly ends. Resident Evil: The Final Chapter basically admits that at the end of its final chapter, when one of the surviving characters literally announces that the mission is not over.
Anyway, Resident Evil: The Not-So Final Chapter will probably seem totally incoherent to anyone who has not watched the previous film. To be honest, even though I’ve seen the other Resident Evil films, I always have a hard time working my way through the franchise’s dense mythology. There are times when I suspect that, much like the Underworld films, the Resident Evil films were specifically designed to mess with my ADD. That said, the Resident Evil franchise has never made a secret about being more concerned with spectacle and action than with narrative coherence. If you’re the type who obsesses of the lack of logic and plausibility in a horror-action film based on a video game, then you’re not the right audience for Resident Evil.
The Final Chapter finds Alice (Milla Jovovich) right where the previous Resident Evil film left her, in the ruins of the White House. The world is still zombiefied and monsterfied, all as a result of the nefarious work of the Umbrella Corporation. Alice is contacted by the Red Queen (Ever Gabo Anderson), who explains that Alice needs to return to Raccoon City and invade the Hive before Umbrella releases yet another virus. Alice travels back the Hive, which leads to several of Resident Evil‘s trademark, over-the-top action sequences. Along the way, a lot of familiar faces pop up. Alice is reunited with Claire (Ali Larter). Dr. Alexander Isaacs (Iain Glen) shows up, explaining that the Isaacs who Alice killed a few movies ago was actually just a clone. (No one ever dies in Resident Evil. Instead, they just get cloned.)
Of course, Albert Wesker returns as well. Ever since Resident Evil: Afterlife, Wesker has been played by a Canadian actor named Shawn Roberts. Watching The Final Chapter, it took me only a few seconds to realize that Shawn Roberts also played Dean the Rapist in five episodes of Degrassi: The Next Generation. That storyline, in which Dean raped Paige and it then took two years (and two seasons) for the case to go to trial just to end with Dean getting acquitted and smirking at Paige as he left the courtroom, remains one of Degrassi‘s most powerful storylines. Roberts uses that same smirk while playing Wesker.
Paul W. S. Anderson returns to direct The Final Chapter. Though Anderson seems to be destined to be best known as “that other director named Paul Anderson,” he’s actually pretty good when it comes to directing nonstop action. (For the record, I thought Anderson’s Pompeii was a sadly underrated film.) The Final Chapter is fun and silly as long as you don’t waste any time to thinking about it and Anderson keeps the action coming so quickly that you literally don’t have time to worry about whether or not the movie makes any sense. The film’s prologue, in which a boy gets zombiefied on a cable car, was actually pretty exciting and a reminder of the visceral horror that it is at the heart of all zombie films.
Resident Evil: The Final Chapter was released in January and, despite some decidedly mixed review, it became the highest grossing film in the franchise. In other words, this is definitely not the final chapter…
The Monster is 2-minute silent film from 1903. Directed by the pioneering French filmmaker, Georges Méliès, The Monster tells the story of an Egyptian prince who brings the dead body of his wife to a sorcerer who apparently likes to hang out in front of The Sphinx. The sorcerer attempts to bring her back to life and, as so often happens in any film directed by Georges Méliès, things don’t quite go as planned.
In my opinion, this is one of the most charming of Georges Méliès’s surviving films. From the simple but crudely effective camera trickery to the nicely surreal Sphinx in the background, The Monster is a chaotic delight.
Through the Shattered Lens 