 Not sure how I still have never heard anything about this film. Give it time Director: François Simard, Anouk Whissell & Yoann-Karl Whissell Writer: Matt Leslie and Stephen J. Smith Producer: Shawn Williamson, Jameson Parker, Matt Leslie, Van Toffler, and Cody Zwieg Cinematographer: Jean-Philippe Bernie by Jon Cvack Stranger Things and other 80s period or inspired films focused on kids have essentially been operating as Nostalgic Retro Porn: a combination of colors, music, tropes, and pop culture icons that any great period piece can enhance. When I was growing up in the 90s, there was an endless array of the same types of stories set in the 50s - My Girl (1991), Now and Then (1995), Stand by Me (1986), and Barry Levinson’s 50s Quadrilogy, they too possessing iconic images and sounds. Summer of ‘84 changes up the movement by scaling it back; foregoing the neon RGB colors and extravagant set pieces and instead providing a low budget indie period piece. It serves as part Stand by Me, part Fright Night, and two parts Rear Window. It’s limited budget and occasional uninspired dialogue and poor acting prevents the story from ever achieving greatness, but it also more firmly aligns the film with its 80s ancestors. If this feels cheap, so too would have comparable films from the period. It allows the film the freedom to wobble at places, but overall, the story is effective. It opens up in Cape May, Oregon where over thirteen boys have gone missing. We meet the tweenish Dave Armstrong (Graham Vercher ) as he finishes his paper route; ending up at his neighbor and police officer Wayne Mackey (Rich Sommer) might be the one responsible. Mackey is awkward and dopey, about as close as it gets to a stereotypical serial killer living in the suburbs. He’s friendly, though creepy and after Dave mentions that he’s behind on the paper delivery payments, Mackey invites him inside to get the money and show him his new photography dark room. Dave has an obsession for conspiracy theories and the supernatural. His room is covered in newspaper clipping about the missing boys, UFOs, and more. When Dave sees a boy his age over at Mackeys one night, who later looks like a missing kid on the back of a milk carton, he voices his concern to his best friends Dale "Woody" Woodworth (Caleb Emery), Curtis Farraday (Cory Gruter-Andrew), and Tommy "Eats" Eaton (Judah Lewis) who all express their reservations, though soon agree to launch into a scout mission to document Mackey’s day to day life. Cut between all this are nightly games of hide and seek throughout the neighborhood and Dave crushing hard on his former babysitter Nikki Kaszub (Tiera Skovbye) who’s parents have recently divorced. When she catches him spying on her, invites herself over and suggests enough interest to drive Dave love crazy. In one sequence, straight with 80s snap-zooms and cheesy flash cutting and the necessary use of large walkie talkies, the boys soon discover that Mackey leaves his house daily to buy over 100 pounds of dirt and sodium hydroxide. Needing hard evidence, the four sneak into the yard, finding freshly laid dirt in the flower beds, and then breaking into the shed and finding one of the local boy's t-shirts with blood all over. Dave decides to tell his parents, making his father furious and who forces the boys over to Mackey’s the next day to apologize. Mackey acts as though he doesn’t care, with Rich Sommer providing just enough gawkiness to make you wonder if it’s him. Before they leave, Dave asks about the boy he saw and Mackey says it was his nephew offering to call, but Dave’s father declines the offer. The next day, in a thrilling scene, Dave is stuck home grounded and Mackey visits on his way to work in order to apologize and try and get him out of too much trouble. It’s here, although most precedent has proved me wrong, that I found myself doubting whether it was Mackey. It seemed too obvious, but that again is part of the 80s throwback; the likeliest answer tended to be the right one. Dave requests that Mackey call his nephew; grabbing a knife and handing Mackey the phone; maximally framed for tension as Dave’s body blocks the weapon. Mackey calls, but gets no answer and later leaves. Dave calls the operator and finds out that Mackey had just called his home; concluding that it was all a lie to his skeptical friends. The next day, the police arrest a suspect, with Mackey getting the credit, all the more intriguing Dave’s parents who not just accused the wrong person, but a neighborhood hero. Dave remains undeterred, hoping to exploit the popular Cape May Festival by being left home alone where Curtis and Eats can keep an eye on Mackey while Dave and Woody head into Mackey’s basement. Dave grabs his dad’s news camera and they head over, with Nikki joining along. Having just watched Rear Window (1954), the parallels were excelling; similar to our doubts about Lars Thorwald and whether he actually did it, we’re left wondering about the facts down to the very end. As creepy as the basement is, there’s no evidence of foul play, until Dave sees another door, opens it up and finds what looks like a living room; with pictures strewn on the walls. They continue onto the bathroom, pulling back the curtain and finding a decayed body in a tub full of sodium hydroxide. The missing local boy then grabs their feet. It cuts out and the boys are hailed as heroes as they play the tape for the police and their parents. Mackey is still on the loose and with Woody’s mom working, he sleeps over at Dave’s. Later in the evening, Mackey descends from Dave’s exit and uses chloroform to knock the boys out and then takes them deep into the middle of the woods. In a shocking sequence, he slices open Woody’s throat and chases Dave down, though instead of killing him, Woody says he’s letting Dave go in order to keep him in indefinite fear. Dave returns back, experiencing severe trauma, though attempts to return to his normal life. Aside from a few cheesy moments of dialogue and some subpar acting, it’s hard to find much wrong with the film. It could have used a polish, but it’s this rawness that makes the film feel unique. The mission of any coming of age story is to capture the essence of what it’s like to be with your childhood friends and have an adventure. Stand by Me and Now and Then operate under comparable settings; with death operating as a right of passage: moving from the distant and undefined to a direct experience. In the Summer of 84’s case, it gives direct enlightenment as to the kids' own mortality. The bonds between friends, a first crush that leads to a first kiss, and the adventures that define youth - it checks all the boxes of a great coming of age story. Abandoning the bells and whistles of its competitors, and up against severe limitations, it doesn’t have the photographic quality of similar movies, but it does contain the spirit. My primary criticism are the wardrobes, in which all of the clothes look freshly purchased and worn for the first time. But compared to everything else, it’s an easy thing to forget. I’m confident that the movie will find horror fans soon enough. BELOW: So low-key there's not even a clip on YouTube (other than the ending) Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Nearly an hour to get to the scary stuff Director: George Marshall Writer: Walter DeLeon; based on The Ghost Breaker (1909 play) by Paul Dickey and Charles W. Goddard Cinematographer: Charles Lang Producer: Arthur Hornblow Jr. by Jon Cvack I’m not too familiar with Bob Hope, other than seeing The Cat and the Canary (1939) a few years ago. In this film, he’s a disillusioned true crime radio DJ Larry Lawrence as your prototypical mile a minute wise-cracking and confident alpha male. His partner is the black man Alex (Willie Best) who is one of the few black actors I’ve seen in a supporting role from the period; though far from spared a bunch of racist innuendo. During the broadcast, we cut to a hotel where the beautiful Mary Carter ((Paulette Goddard) is listening in on the broadcast when she’s approached by the creepy Mr. Parada (Paul Lukas) who explains that she’s inherited a Cuban mansion called the Castilla Maldito and must come down immediately. After Larry reveals some dirt on a local crime boss Frenchy Duval (Paul Fix), Frenchy invites Larry over to the same hotel. Suspecting murder, Larry brings a gun and upon arriving, kills one of Frency’s henchman. He then sneaks into Mary’s room to hide out and learns about her going to the Cuban Mansion. Knowing he has to get out, he decides to sneak onto the ship by hiding in some luggage in order to hide from the cops. We then get to an ocean liner where Alex has arranged Larry with a room. Larry gets out of the trunk, hardly able to walk, until he learns that the gun he used didn’t match the bullet found on the victim. He then finds Mary and implores her to let him join her to the mansion. With a running time of only 84 minutes, this sequence of events takes us up to two thirds of the entire film and only at the ~55 minute mark do we finally get to the mansion where see some zombies, get into the mansion where there are spirits wandering around with horrible effects, and Mary soon realizes she’s a descendant of one of the prior heirs; discovering a painting with an uncanny resemblance between the two women. As mentioned in my thoughts on The Undying Monster (1942), the film was designed as part Universal horror film and part Sherlock Holmes. If The Ghost Breakers struck a similar balance, it could have worked, but with such a short running time, its gangster film/love story/slapstick/comedic horror super hybrid prevented any of the elements from working. By the time we got to the haunted mansion, I had grown so bored with the story that the horrors and gags failed to do much of anything. I didn’t know why they’d delay the part of the film that could’ve worked best. It might be scary movie month bias, but this film is better for a casual viewing throughout the year than attempting to find a great classical horror movie - comedy or not. Bob Hope is also kind of an asshole throughout the thing; cocky to the point of being insufferable. BELOW: Guess he Bob was also a Republican Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of my favorite Krueger murder weapons Director: Chuck Russell Writer: Wes Craven, Bruce Wagner, Frank Darabont, and Chuck Russell Producer: Robert Shaye Cinematographer: Roy H. Wagner by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Around the hospital, Dr. Gordon had been seeing an eerie nun wandering the corridors. Leaving the hospital and ending up in the church, she reveals that Krueger was once a patient at the hospital; the child of a young nun who was accidentally locked in with the patient as they pummeled and assaulted her; going on to say that the only way to officially destroy Krueger is for them to bury the bones with the mother. It leads Dr. Gordon to ask Nancy where he can find her father who had managed the case. Donald Thompson (John Saxon) returns as a drunk who hasn’t spoken to Nancy in years; now a security guard or street cop. Things erupt between him and Nancy and Nancy returns to the hospital while Dr. Gordon implores Donald to help him find the bones. Nancy follows the kids into another group hypnosis in an effort to kill Freddy once and for all. In another brilliant piece of practical effects, we see Taryn outside of some punk dive bar; no longer disheveled but back to her old punk self; imagining herself to have a pair of switchblades. She gets a stab in before Freddy raises his hands, revealing five syringe fingers filled with heroin. Taryn fails to refuse and he stabs her, causing an overdose. In pure 80s VFX goodness, a now walking Will uses wizardy to combat Freddy, zapping him with some type of spell that looks like a Ghostbusters Proton ray, paralyzing Freddy for a moment until he breaks free and stabs Will dead. While they’re in the dreamland, Donald takes Dr. Gordon to a junkyard and another amazing set piece where they dig up Freddy’s remains (assumed to be part of the sequel’s final set piece). When they find the skeletons, another phenomenal use of stop motion occurs, in which the bones reassemble and Freddy’s skin follows and he rises up and kills Donald. Battling a dual front, Nanchy, Kristen, Joey, and Kincaid find one another and help push him to the other side and he’s floats in between, killing Nancy, though Dr. Corbin gets him back into the pit and douses him with holy water, burning him alive and destroying Freddy once again. At the funeral, Dr. Corbin sees Sister Mary Helega once again, following her to a plot where she disappears and Corbin discovers her name as Amanda Krueger. For fans of horror and slashers in particular, it’s difficult to argue that this is one of the best. It maximizes the imagery allowed within the parameters. I’m one of the few people I know who love the Saw series - almost every single one (minus the sequel). People complain about the violence and how its torture porn, but it’s simply another movement in horror films; subsequently replaced by a series of found footage and home invasion films, to which those were replaced by the current - and most exciting movement of Art House horror films. What makes Saw films engaging are the set pieces; what more could they possibly think and how this question extends across over eight films; most of which refuse to get fancy or abandon what works or improve the history or arching narrative. Instead, they take the format of a series of characters to be butchered by complex and terrifying machines and frequently provide fresh renditions. Counter to its sequels (New Nightmare notwithstanding) this is what the other films have failed to accomplish. The movies work best when there are interesting characters battling the simple plot of a monster attacking them in their dreams. It allows a filmmakers’ minds to run wild; what worlds and carnage could they create within the confines of a nightmare, what images could they find that would burn into our minds no differently than the syringe hand, blood bed, or being attacked on the ceiling, as though by a ghost. Beginning A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988) while writing this, it too drops the ball; failing to provide much of character or situation. It’s facile. There is a group of new teenage victims and we’re provided with cursory glances. At the halfway point, it seems that there’s a desire to expand the victim to those beyond Elm Street; again, breaking what was working just fine to begin with. Dream Master and Freddy’s Revenge also speak to Wes Craven and Chuck Russell’s master of craft; clearly working hard to ensure that the world is combined with memorable images. It goes to a longstanding theory I’ve discussed over the last few years in which high craft - from set design, to blocking, camera movement and composition to make up and effects - while the casual viewer might not understand why what they’re watching is good, they sense it. It’s like music. We don’t know why some songs are better than others, but we often discover that those better songs are better crafted when the hood is lifted. The other two sequels feel vapid and lazy; as though it was about quickly turning out another film rather than trying to make one that could stand up to alongside the slasher classics. BELOW: Death by Television Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The beginning of the amazing set pieces Director: Chuck Russell Writer: Wes Craven, Bruce Wagner, Frank Darabont, and Chuck Russell Producer: Robert Shaye Cinematographer: Roy H. Wagner by Jon Cvack After a disastrous sequel, Dream Warriors returns as arguably the Four Horsemen’s greatest sequels; matched perhaps only by A New Nightmare (1994), though I’d argue that Craven’s return was more cinema exploring slasher horror rather than slasher horror alone. Dream Warriors provides an entire film of what the first Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), only half provided; a brilliant set up for a horror film involving a horribly burned man, possibly the devil, who exists in the dreams of young teenagers, killing them off one by one. The premise was based on an article Wes Craven read about kids allegedly dying in their dreams. It’s a simple and perfect setup; requiring little beyond knowing you have to kill him in real life to destroy him. The issue with the original is that it shifts away from this premise - bending or breaking its own logic in order to serve an overwrought premise that would have benefited from simplification. The second half plays like a fourth or fifth film in a series; explaining something that we’re not yet interested in. How Freddie can escape into the real world. Dream Warriors recovers this problem, focusing entirely on the initial plot of teenagers experiencing the dreams and slowly discovering a way to battle the monster as he gets closer to kill each of them off. Moving beyond the suburbs and high school students it turns to an asylum where a group of young people experience various forms of mental illness; one by one having their nightmares. The only mystery is why them, but the question isn’t important. It’s supplemental. Regardless of who they are, Freddy Krueger’s targeting them. The story opens with Patricia Arquette Kristen Parker who’s up in the middle of the night, building a creepy house out of popsicle sticks, glue, and dark paint. Her mom enters the room, wearing a dress, wondering what Kristen is still doing up; asking if she’ll go back to bed. A man downstairs then calls up. It’s a scene that reminds me of the first; providing the littlest bit of information to describe a home life using a combination of wardrobe, character type, make up, and attitude to show a relationship. It takes no more than a minute because it needs no more than a minute. Kristen then falls asleep and dreams of Freddy Krueger. She enters the bathroom and grabs the faucet handles which are in the shape of claws which shift into Freddy’s hands in a beautiful effect, entirely holding up on BluRay. It grabs her wrist while the other rises up, its pipes now gaunt bone with raw bloody muscle. It turns into claws and slices Kristin who then wakes up. Her mother enters the bathroom, finding her daughter with cut wrists. She takes Kristin to a mental institution run by Dr. Neil Gordon (Craig Wasson) who examines her for suicide. When they try to sedate her, Kristin freaks out, requiring the orderlies to come in to restrain her. Dr. Gordon then tells her mother that he needs to retain her indefinitely. Although only made three years afterwards, Nancy Thompson returns as Heather Langenkamp, six years after the first film and now training to be a psychiatrist. She meets the rest of the patients who are some of the best supporting cast in any horror sequel, a crazed aspiring actress Jennifer (Penelope Sudrow); Kincaid (Ken Sagoes) as the explosively volatile kid from the streets; Philip (Bradley Gregg ) as the frequent illustrator, puppet builder, and somnambulist; the paraplegic and subsequently suicidal Will (Ira Heiden); a struggling heroin addict Taryn (Jennifer Rubin); and a trauma victim Joey (Rodney Eastman) who hasn’t spoken since. Each character is as unique as the other, provided with full and vibrant personalities and situated within an environment that allows us to get to know them and their relationships. As grim as the place and as tragic as the events, it feels more like their schoolmates rather than patients. Dr. Gordon is one of the film’s most complex characters. He's a kind and gentle man, single and in his mid-40s. Entirely dedicated to his work. He then meets Nancy, and as predatory as their professional relationship is, Craig Wasson makes it seem pure and honest; a mixture of genuine attraction over her care and mind, along with his instincts to help. While reluctant at first to buy Heather’s theories on the matter, he’s soon swayed. Philip is the first to fall asleep, and in the film’s coolest sequence, one of Philips puppets shifts via stop motion into Freddy Krueger, who cuts himself free and walks up to Philip’s bed, cutting open his forearms and removing his tendons, pulling him like a puppet out and up into the bell tower. The group yells to wake him up, only seeing his arms raised, then watching as he falls to his death. The episode makes Dr. Gordon desperate and he agrees to try Nancy’s approach; having them all fall asleep together in order to learn how to unite and beat Krueger. Before they fall asleep, Nancy explains that each of the children are descendants of the remaining Elm Street families. It’s a point that simply lays the foundation; requiring no more than a few seconds explanation and reaction. It serves no grander purpose than allowing us to understand why these particular children were selected. They then fall asleep and find themselves still in the group therapy room which starts to burn down all around them as Freddy is heard on the other side of the wall in all directions. When they wake up, a woman fires Dr. Gordon, providing one of a handful of weak plot points. I’m not sure what sudden authority this person had. It places Nancy in care of the patients and gets Dr. Gordon out of the office where he investigates beyond the hospital. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Heroin fingers Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The only decent image I could find which does the film no justice Director: John Brahm Writer: Lillie Hayward and Michel Jacoby Cinematographer: Lucien Ballard Producer: Bryan Foy by Jon Cvack John Brahm is one of the more interesting directors I’ve discovered. I saw his first film The Lodger (1944) last Halloween, playing as a type of early Summer of Sam (1999)/Zodiac (2007) serial killer story. I’ve yet to see Brahm’s Hangover Square (1945), but a short documentary about the guy revealed that it was a hybrid sequel/remake of The Lodger except with more money (think Evil Dead 2 [1987]); allowing him to better showcase his skills. The few clips from the film ranging from a Michael Meyers’ POV to a long oner of the killer exiting his house and onto the London streets and into the closing shots of the killer playing a John Herman score while being engulfed in flames and burning to death. Brahm wouldn’t make much more from there on. Counter to his German peers, he’d never get much further into film noir and instead made a long career directing television - going on to do episodes of The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. A film scholar said it might have been due to his reluctance to participate in Hollywood politics and/or his lack of ambition. I struggle to think of more wasted potential from a filmmaker. The Undying Monster was Fox studios response to Universal’s horror division. However, counter to their competitors, Darrel Zanuck demanded that his properties be developed with more of a literary angle. Rather than focusing on actions and scares he wanted good characters and smart stories. At only a bit over an hour long, The Undying Monster is half Sherlock/half Universal creature feature to the point where by two-thirds the way I was left wondering whether it was even a monster at all; despite the movie’s poster that featured a werewolf. It opens on the Hammond family estate in England where we learn that, since the Crusades, the family has been cursed with a series of deaths, suicides, and murders. When the estate’s owner Oliver Hammond (John Howard) is attacked by a mysterious creature in the night, they call upon Scotland Yard to investigate, including the story’s Sherlock Dr. Robert Curtis (James Ellison) and his wise-cracking and straight shooting partner Christy (Heather Thatcher) who run a massive lab that’s developing the latest in forensic science. Robert and Christy head over to the Hammond estate where Walter (Halliwell Hobbes), Oliver’s sister Helga (Heather Angel), and local Inspector Craig (Aubrey Mather) head down to the basement crypt where Robert sees some strange footprints before Walter fakes a fall and destroys them. Robert immediately suspects that it was either Oliver’s sister Helga Hammond, the butler Walter (Halliwell Hobbes) or one of the other family members, all in an attempt to get the money. When another victim is killed, Robert fears they’ll never learn the truth. It becomes such an effective plot and told with such support, going so far as a jury trial, that with only fifteen minutes left or so I was convinced the monster was a ruse; a type of Scooby Doo story where they created the monster to create smoke around the case. Robert then gets his hands on a hair sample and in a brilliant lab test using early - and legitimate - forms of chemical analysis, they discover that the hair comes from a wolf; which soon disappears before their very eyes. They return to the Hammond estate in order to explore further around the island. That night, Helga is kidnapped and leads us into a thrilling final sequence, Robert and the others chase the creature to the beach. It’s Jaws’ (1975) structure - keeping the monster in shadows and showing only fragments until the final moment where he catches himself from falling off the cliff, crawls up, and the police shoot him down. We finally see the monster, though just for a split second; where in fairly convincing stop motion he transforms, revealing himself as Oliver Hammond. Roberts soon learns that the family curse has actually been genetic, with the lineage affected with lycanthropy; that is, the mythological shift between wolf and man. It’s a beautiful film, providing all you want from classical era horror. It also leaves you sad, wondering why Universal’s Wolfman would get five sequels and how this one got zero. It’s so easy to see Roberts and Christy return as they battle a new type of monster - vampire, invisible man, sea creatures. The film plays like an early version of X-Files, with the same will-they/won’t-they sexual tension. It’s a series that never was, that could have produced some of the area's finest horror sequels. Similar to Brahm’s career, the film is a case of what cinema could have been. BELOW: Check it out Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  He just ain't the same Norman Director: Richard Franklin Writer: Tom Holland; based onCharacters created by Robert Bloch Cinematographer: Dean Cundey Producer: Hilton A. Green and Bernard Schwartz by Jon Cvack Allegedly Quentin Tarantino stated he thought this film was better than the original which, if true, makes me question whether Tarantino actually has good taste in movies. To think this film is in any way superior to Hitchcock’s masterpiece and one of cinema’s all time greats strings credulity. It’s a movie that gets better every time I watch it; to the point where I knew I had to just bite the bullet and see what sequels had to offer. I thought nothing could be worse than A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2 (1985) this year, but this film is a close runner up. It takes place 22 years later as Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) is released from the hospital with the help of his lawyer Dr. Bill Raymond (Robert Loggia) who vouches that he’s cured. Marion’s sister Lila Loomis attends the proceeding, still played by (Vera Miles) who disagrees with the ruling, declaring that Norman’s still a murderer. Norman returns back to his home and motel, using the same, now famous Universal backlot set. The hotel is now run by the film’s best character Warren Toomey (Dennis Franz) who’s let the place slide into a drug and sex destination; stating that there’s no other way to attract customers. The odd thing is that although Norman has a hotel to run, he’s forced to get a job at a diner where he meets Mary Samuels (Meg Tilly). When she breaks up with her boyfriend, Norman invites her to stay over at his house. She agrees, the two head back and Norman continues to see and hear his mother get murderous ideations. In one scene, he fixes Mary a sandwich, finding a butcher knife, pulling it out and exhibiting nearly every indication to Mary that he’s about to stab her, though she doesn’t fully seem to grasp the situation - a troubled man bringing her back to his creepy mansion where he gleams over a knife. From there the film falls into complete disaster, running far too long to make any of the murders worth the long waits. Mary essentially moves in with Norman in order to help with his issues and so a mystery unravels, revealing that Mary is Lila’s daughter, and that the cook at the diner, Emma Spool (Claudia Bryar) is actually Norman’s mother who gave Norman to her sister. It’s not a terrible turn of events, but at nearly two hours long, the good stuff simply takes too long to get to and what happens in-between doesn’t quite pass the time. Anthony Perkins is odd to the point of distraction, no longer possessing that uneasy and psychotic persona. The performance is odd and feels fake, pulling me out of most scenes. The other issue is that for the vast majority of the film, we’re asked to accept that Mary just so happens to not mind staying with a peculiar and unhinged, former ward of the state who keeps hearing his mother tell him to kill. It makes sense when explained, but up until that point, it breaks credulity. Either people don’t buy it, or they’ve figured it out. It just doesn’t work. Once Warren gets killed, there’s little else that kept me engaged with the film. By the time I reached the last third, I was pissed that I had to waste another night on finishing the thing. It’s made poorly. The scares aren’t engaging or effective. Most of the characters feel like parodies. It never makes an effort to capture the errieness of the Bates Motel. The original worked because we had no idea what to expect; going so far as to kill its main character off midway through. We didn’t know if the mother was the killer, or something supernatural, or if Norman was psychotic. After it’s all explained there’s very little left to explore. As decent as the ending could have been, it doesn’t add anything. It just saturates a great recipe. Hitchcock accomplished the rare, achieved by perhaps only The Shining (1980), in being a horror film that prevents a functional sequel. Psycho is a completely full and perfect story that doesn’t need to go any further. BELOW: About as good as it gets, and that ain't saying much Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Martin Scorsese Writer: Laeta Kalogridis; based on Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane Cinematographer: Robert Richardson Producer: Mike Medavoy, Arnold W. Messer, Bradley J. Fischer and Martin Scorsese by Jon Cvack As said in my thoughts on The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016), Identity (2003) is arguably the most disappointing movie of all time per the ratio of how good it is up to its final moments and we learn the last hundred minutes was all the hallucinations of a schizophrenia killer. After checking out Shutter Island for a third time, and yet again hoping I failed to notice the details, I’m ready to say that Shutter Island takes second place. The first third of the film is A+ Scorsese filmmaking. Every time I watch the film it’s as though I’m having a flawless sensory massage. The story is brilliant in its simplicity - two US Marshals visit an Island on the eve of a hurricane in order to investigate a missing patient at a mental institution, with the added delight that one of the US Marshals suspects that the place is being run by American Nazis conducting experiments for the military. Recently I read Rebecca (1938); a book with the most awfully misleading titles next to David Simon’s Show Me a Hero (2015). It’s the first time I grasped a particular genre - a type of modern Gothic thriller (I’m sure a more astute book lover could better categorize); a genre that Hitchcock would start with - involving a seemingly supernatural event occurring that would go on to have an explanation (Hitchcock would go on to win Best Picture for Rebecca’s adaptation). Shutter Island seems to fit the same category; except rather than explaining away the supernatural, it has to explain away the extraordinary. Leonardo DiCaprio plays Officer Teddy Daniels; a WWII veteran who was amongst the soldiers who discovered the Dachau Nazi concentration camp and whose wife had recently burned alive in a fire. His partner is Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo). They arrive at the island off Boston Harbor, discovering the hospital is actually an old civil war fortress; now guarding the criminally insane. The place is run by lead psychiatrist Dr. John Cawley (Ben Kingsley) who’s suspicious of their involvement and how far they wish to extend their investigation. Not remembering exactly what happened in the film, the one glimmer of hope I have of enjoying the movie is to give it another viewing remembering that Dr. John Cawley was in on the whole scam. Even by the third time, I kept thinking he was simply a proud man with the right connections that could make him smugly dissent from the US Marshals’ orders. I’ll stop here to explain that the issue I have with whether this whole story was a performance, or whether Teddy imagines they’re just calling it a performance, or if Teddy’s suspicions were in fact accurate (NOTE: the book is definitive that it was an act). The problem is that in order to defend these positions each element in support of it must be sound; you can’t loose ends to support ambiguity. For instance, Crawley has denied them access to personnel and patient records and limits where they can go, which while odd, is understandable. He then grants access to at least some of the patients, which seems like a high risk for having at least one of them recognize Teddy and spill the beans; then again, one patient hands Teddy a piece of paper which tells him to RUN, such an ambiguous and cheap riddle that begs the question as to why the woman just couldn’t be more direct with Teddy. Giving him a note telling him to run seems just as consequential as telling him he’s all part of some ruse. The men then move to examine Rachel Solando’s room (for those who forget, the name is ananagrams of both Teddy’s ex-wife Dolores Chanal and the arsonist and ex-military buddy of Teddy who killed her named, Andrew Laeddis). They find a note on the floor stating "The law of 4; who is 67?"; a cryptic and fascinating clue that again fails a stress test as to whether Teddy’s paranoid suspicions were true. The anagram is specifically designed for Teddy. “The Law of 4” wouldn’t apply to anything else (or least so far as I can see). “Who is 67?” is a pretty good puzzle; a question that seems obvious enough once figured out, logical for the doctors to provide, and mysterious enough for Teddy and us to have to piece together. We learn that Rachel’s doctor was granted leave immediately after Rachel’s loss; told by a sexy nurse who I wondered whether an aspiring actress who didn’t give a shit about spilling the beans, or an actual nurse. Teddy and Chuck visit Crowley and his partner Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max von Sydow) in an absolutely brilliant scene. It’s a moment like this that balances between both sides of the reality. Naehring is deliberately cryptic, if not coming across mostly disinterested, while Teddy grows increasingly frustrated over their failure to comply, going so far as to suggest that Naehring might be a Nazi. The performances are spot on, and soon Teddy gets a migraine, and Robert Richardson’s signature light powers up to 11. Teddy wakes up the next day and a storm has come in. They continue their investigation to discover that Rachel has returned, played by Emily Mortimer who breaks down in tears explaining what happened, going so far as to hug Teddy which again felt like a strange moment; whether real or not, why would Crowley allow a psychopath to endanger Teddy’s life and hug him, especially when the experiment was meant as a safer alternative to lobotomy? By this point the film is now running on all cylinders and Teddy and Chuck head into the hospital’s cemetery where the storm reaches its apex; the wind breaking down trees and whipping branches in all directions. They end up in a crypt where Teddy explains how he thinks that the place is operating as a Nazi infilitrated experimental camp; supporting his thesis with experiences in Dachau and what they did to the prisoners. At this point, it is a close to perfect movie; as because you don’t know what the ending is (or can’t remember) everything makes sense. Especially, for as crazy as it seems, Teddy’s suspicion isn’t impossible: the place could have been infiltrated by Nazis who’re running experiments on the criminally insane in order to create new weapons of warfare. Perhaps it’s my fandom of pop-WWII action movies (along with Wolfenstein), it seems like this was the perfect set up - Teddy would go on to prove his thesis, supported by the evidence. It’s one of the few times I can recall the sensation of a film so strongly getting you excited for a certain plot and then turning a complete 180 in favor of a far more boring path. Identity is comparable. It’s plot wasn’t nearly as strong at the beginning. It was all a mystery. Shutter Island teases what could be a phenomenal and horrifying set up and instead abandons it for something plain and simply boring. The second third isn’t as bad as I remember, as Teddy and Chuck return to the hospital, exchanging their suits for inmate uniforms. They soon take advantage of the chaos and make their way to cordoned Ward C, as the warden (Ted Levine), his officers, and the orderlies do their best to round up the patients and clean up the storm debris. It’s the area with the institutions most murderously insane. It’s a scene where you immediately recall Silence of the Lambs. Teddy then sees a naked prisoner running down the hallways and leads Chuck to the labyrinth of corridors before the two finally part ways; leading Teddy to meet up with patient George Noyce (Jackie Earle Haley) who explains the experiment he runs on people. Referring toIMDb’s FAQ it’s says that he had been given orders to tell these lies; begging the question again as to 1) how did they get George memorize this much, 2) why would he go along with it, and 3) why wouldn’t he just explain that Teddy’s all part of the experiment (though to this last point, perhaps he doesn’t know who Teddy is, but then why does Teddy know him)? Teddy soon finds Andrew Laeddis (Elias Koteas) in the cells - again, the man who allegedly killed his wife - and the two talk about the war and how Teddy left him or something. I honestly can’t remember the details and this is the exact point we shift into the final and crushing last third of the film as Teddy then leaves, meets up with Chuck and the two try to reach the famous lighthouse. En route, Teddy sees a fire and climbs down into a cave where he meets the allegedly real Rachel Salando (now played by Patricia Clarkson) who essentially shatters the film’s ambiguity. This second Salando mentions she’s a former doctor and corroborates the experiments Teddy suspected and she’s now been living in the wild, bouncing from place to place to hide and one day escape; although the area is crawling with guards on the search; an idea so outlandish that we immediately grasp that Teddy is likely hallucinating everything. Teddy makes his way to the lighthouse where he discovers Dr. Crowley alone up top. He explains that the whole event was a game designed to repair his mind. Everyone was in on it, from the first Rachel Solando to the nurses and guards. Teddy refuses to believe, grabs his gun and discovers it’s plastic (another problem; as imagine if he actually needed to use it such as when Rachel grabs him). Chuck then arrives, now wearing a nice suit and reveals himself as Teddy’s therapist. There’s a meltdown and another migraine and Teddy passes out. He later awakes and admits to what he did and in a horrifying flashback we see Teddy admit the “truth” of Dolores’ death was that when he arrived home years ago, he found his wife had drowned their three children. Teddy then shot her dead. A mix of that and the holocaust completely destroyed his mind. By the end, what I recalled as having such fairly strong subjectivity played out far differently. Teddy grabs a smoke on the hospital steps. Chuck joins him and Teddy plays it cool, lowering his voice and explaining that they need to find a way off the island. Counter to the first two viewings, it was a far more somber and objective moment. Chuck looks over to Crawley, shaking his head, signaling that Teddy hasn’t been cured and will likely need a lobotomy. I wonder if another viewing with the details still fresh while knowing that it’s all a Fincher-like ruse might make it more interesting. Then again, I just find this such a heartbreaking film to watch. Set up for a grand slam and ending without a single run. It seems odd to consider that we’re essentially being entertained with a story of the complete mental breakdown of an extremely disturbed man. Especially when it didn’t even cure him. It’s a film that I hope gets remade some day; following the other angle in having him follow the evil in men’s hearts rather exploiting the sickness in a man’s head. As we say to those we love most, it's not bad movie, it's just disappointing. BELOW: Even knowing none of this mattered, still takes me to the edge of my seat every time Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Nothing better than a single location horror flick Director: André Øvredal Writer: Ian Goldberg and Richard Naing Cinematographer: Roman Osin Producer: Fred Berger, Eric Garcia, Ben Pugh, and Rory Aitken by Jon Cvack Seeing the film starred Brian Cox and Emile Hirsch, I avoided reading anything else. The title was obvious enough. The story opens on a crime scene where the police have dug up a beautiful young woman in pristine condition; her skin fair and nearly glowing without a mark on her body. With the cop needing immediate information, he takes the body to a local coroner. We meet Austin and his father Tommy as they complete the autopsy on the last patient of the night; listening to some classic rock on the radio and grooving along with the work. Tommy sends Austin off early to go meet up with a girl he’s been seeing named Emma (Ophelia Lovibond). As he’s about to leave the sheriff rolls up with the body and explains the urgency of having the cause of death determined by morning. Emma arrives, but feeling guilty, Austin asks if they can meet up later so that his father doesn’t have to work alone. The two start the autopsy, immediately realizing that the body has no signs of trauma except for her wrists and ankles being shattered and her tongue having been cut out. She’s also missing a molar. They open up the body, snapping the rib cage open and discovering black lungs and that her organs have countless amounts of cuts and scar tissue, as though sliced. They later peel her skin away to discover black magic scripture written across the insides. Note is how the filmmakers portray Jane Doe for the film’s duration (played by Olwen Kelly) as a beautiful woman who lies naked on the table. It appears a subtle comment on how women are portrayed in film; that so long as they’re attractive and naked it doesn’t matter whether they speak or lie dormant. It is an object for us to look at. It is the Kuleshov effect; as each subsequent episode occurs we cut back to her neutral face which communicates as much as the most popular women in horror films. During their initial autopsy, the radio shifts into an old song from the 1920s; later shifting to local news where the reporter says that storms are coming in with a risk of flooding. The set up is perfect, providing exactly what you desire from a horror film. A rainy night. Some people alone in a creepy place dealing with a mysterious object which seems to be involved with forces wanting to kill them; whether aliens like in The Thing, or a perfect sphere from Sphere, or a handful of strangers at a haunted mansion like House on Haunted Hill. The story essentially uncovers a question - why is this happening and how is the object involved? Where most fail is in resolving the question satisfactorily. At a ratio of how good a movie is compared to its ending, Identity is unmatched. It has the most disappointing ending of all time. It was all a psychotic fantasy, just an inch above it was all a dream. Shutter Island is a close second, with a first third that is absolutely flawless storytelling, fading in the second act, and then crashing hard in the third; it too was all a psychotic man’s fantasy. Check out my thoughts on Shutter Island (2010 for more details, but basically my main issue is that both dreams or hallucinations permit anything; drifting into the realm of surrealism where the experience is limitless in logic. There is no foundation. Any image could be created because none of the images are real. To me, cinema - and literature - is about connecting with a universal truth. It’s similar to watching a film completely in someone’s POV; it feels limited, when instead a more macro view could have made it better. It was all a dream/fantasy/psychotic episode is lazy writing; it’s what you do when you’ve painted yourself into a corner. The film’s that get it right provide that uncanny sensibility throughout the story. Things are getting weirder and weirder - or better - scarier and scarier and we do not know why. The Village (2004) is an example where the answer, while logical to a degree, was simply unsatisfying. The Autopsy of Jane Doe combines a mysteriously dead body who seems to be contributing to a supernatural presence determined to kill Austin and Tommy. The movie is a tight 85 minutes, moving from scene to scene with momentum and yet with deliberation. The filmmakers and actors convey a respect and comprehension of the medical terms rather than just reciting and pasting them down. It levels out their incredible discoveries; making you wonder if it was somehow a serial killer; honestly wondering if it was simply person that burned her lungs, cut up her organs, broke her ankles and wrists, cut out her tongue, and tattoo the inside of her chest skin all without leaving a mark on the rest of the body. That is, until the other bodies in the morgue disappear and rise up to kill them. Like a perfect shift in a jazz band, we comprehend what’s going on just as Tommy does; realizing that Jane Doe is something evil and must be destroyed; that she very well is a witch that was tortured to death and whose spirit has lived on. Tommy attempts to burn her alive and we witness the resistance; causing the destruction to become all the more powerful. After one of the bodies seems to attack them at the door, they run for the elevator. The doors shut and their attacked and Tommy swings to kill the creature; catching them in the head. The doors open and they see it was Emma. A twist so simple and yet unexpectedly perfect. The concluding deaths are equally terrifying; demonstrating that the power isn’t in her to kill Tommy and Austin so much as make them kill the other or self; to scare them into death. Her torture becomes their mental torture. It shows the way hallucinations can work; it is not from their perspective, it is something happening to them. It is an amazing horror film. BELOW: Avoided reading or watching any trailers and had no idea where this was going; what a scene Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  It had all the hallmarks of pretension and yet never slipped for a second Director: Ana Lily Amirpour Writer: Ana Lily Amirpour Cinematographer: Lyle Vincent Producer: Justin Begnaud and Sina Sayya by Jon Cvack The best description I heard of this film was David Lynch meets Jim Jarmusch. I’d add Bela Tarr in there and it’s a near perfect comparison. It’s both bizarre and cool and unlike anything I’ve ever seen. There is a movement of art house horror films that I’ve often discussed - It Follows (2014), They Came at Night (2013), Us (2019), Hereditary (2018), and The VVitch (2015) all have taken the genre and applied it to high craft. And yet A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night is different; existing on a strange bridge where it could go either way; there are just as many humanistic moments as there are frightening - to the point where even categorizing them in specific ways can create its own mistake. Ana Lily Amirpour is a filmmaker that embodies the old school way of making it to features; directing over half a dozen short films before finally making the short of A Girl Walks Alone at Night which then screened at Sundance and led her to make the features. Her shorts alone should pique interest, sounding as though a filmmaker experimenting and slowly developing their voice. The story opens up with Arash who exits from his new expensive car where a local teenager stands in awe and Arash explains how much he had to work to save up for it; a hardworking handyman who takes care of his heroin addict father Hussein (Marshall Manesh) who’s racked up a huge debt with a local well tatted drug dealer Saeed (Dominic Rains). Saeed visits to collect from Arash who offers his car in exchange for sparing his father’s life. Arash is currently on the job in a wealthy estate, left alone with the Super Hot Clubber daughter Shaydah (Rome Shadanloo) who’s parents are out of town. She invites Arash up to help with repairs and lays on the bed, asking if he could fix the door frame. He turns her down and she leaves and grabs some of her expensive jewelry from the dresser. That night, Saeed heads out to collect money from a local prostitute, Atti (Mozhan Marnò) who drives off with Saeed into the middle of a park where she begins to lick his finger and proceed to fellate him. Saeed then sees “The Girl” (aka vampire; Sheila Vand) standing in the field. When he turns, she’s gone and pushes Atti away, accusing her of being short and demanding she keep working. He heads back home and does a few lines of blow before Atti appears. She sucks his finger, then bites it off before chewing his neck and killing him. Great films pique your interest from its very first frame; somehow providing the indescribable feeling of high art. The best films take that initial impression and grow it scene by scene; where it’s not about experiencing an immediate style, but slowly discovering an entirely new voice. Before Saeed is murdered we get the first of a series of eerily beautiful slo mo dance sequences - where diegetic music kicks in and the characters move the rhythm. Saeed in this case dances to Bei Ru in a long and extended sequence, showing off his tattooed body to Atti, clearly jacked up on blow before Atti butchers him. It’s a scene that harkens back to my initial point - equal parts funny, badass, and horrifying, transcending the genre. Arash then arrives, hoping to offer the earrings for the car and bumps into Atti as she leaves. He heads inside, finding Saeed dead. Arash grabs his keys and then Saeed’s money and drugs where he then turns to dealing his score and quitting his job at Shaydah’s. Later, Arash goes to the club where Shaydah buys some ecstasy off him, then gets him to take a pill himself. He gets high and he watches Shaydah seemingly dance for him; getting him horny enough to then make a move for her to back away and her boyfriend to return. Arash then leaves, high out of his mind, wandering the streets and soon meeting up with Atti who appears nearly to kill him until he hugs her gently and the two return to her place. They end up back at Atti’s apartment which is covered in music posters and she puts on White Lies “Death” and provides one of the coolest moments of the film. The song is so great and so catchy and so odd for the scene; especially as the camera holds in wide as Arash slowly works his way over to Atti who stares down at the record player. Close to the entire five minute track plays out, and the characters undergo a range of emotions; starting awkward and moving into attraction, from sensual into murderous desire. I’ve listened to this song multiple times while writing this and all the more in awe. I would’ve never imagined the pairing. It’s neither fitting or ironic and yet somehow, compared with the images, it’s a perfect blend. Withdrawing from heroin, Hussein erupts into a violent rage, trashing their apartment and Arash kicks him out; giving him the cat and the remainder of Saeed’s money. Hussein buys some bags and heads over to Atti who offers to dance but who instead succumbs to Hussein’s heroin seduction. The Girl then appears and kills Hussein and her and Atti dispose the body; keeping the cat. Arash later finds the body and heads to The Girl’s apartment in anguish; soon discovering Hussein’s cat. In a final long take, the camera holds as the cat crawls between them and sits on the seat; Arash considers staying and returning to his former life and joining The Girl on the road; ending in classic horror fashion with a bit of The Graduate, open with the possibility of a sequel. The film has remained with me for the last few days since finishing. I was most surprised to discover that although entirely in Persian, the film was shot in Kern Valley, California (represented by vehement Trump ally Devon Nunes, if that helps you picture the type of country). At no point did I question whether or not this was filmed in Iran. It goes to demonstrate the phenomenal skill Anna Lily Anapour. Not since It Follows, has a director lent such a unique perspective to horror. It’s difficult to even assign category or label to what makes the film work; the extended music scenes could so easily have been pretentious; the vampire could so easily have come across as some comic book movie anti-hero; the style could have grown exhausting. And yet each moment felt completely unique and truthful. It’s horror, crime, art house moral tale, and so much else. She’s the type of storyteller where you want to immediately want to watch everything she’s done; to see how she approaches other genres and characters. With a couple more features on the horizon, It’s one of the most exciting debut feature films I’ve seen in a long time. BELOW: Simple and powerful and a great groove Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  It's got a badass intro, though Director: Jack Sholder Writer: David Chaskin Cinematographer: Jacques Haitkin and Christopher Tufty Producer: Robert Shaye by Jon Cvack This film has to be the worst sequel to the major slasher film series. In my previous thoughts on A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), I mentioned how a bad horror film will distract your attention. Rather than remaining fully immersed within the environment you become aware of what you’re watching; particularly the illogic or ridiculousness of certain scenes and moments. If frequent enough, the distraction starts to make time slow down. The last ten minutes of this film were amongst the longest I’ve recalled. The movie opens up with a cool scene. High schooler Jesse Walsh (Mark Patton) boards a bus which is driven by Freddie who takes them off and into the desert where the ground soon falls apart, leaving them on a narrow cliff as though a cartoon, the bus rocking back and forth. Jesse wakes up and we learn that he and his family have just moved into Nancy’s old house. A random girl Lisa Webber (Kim Myers) immediately asks for a ride and two crush on one another. Jesse gets in a fight with a local jock at school Ron Grady (Robert Rusler) but the two become friends shortly after. Jesse continues having dreams and we learn that Freddie is attempting to coerce or possess him in order to continue the murders in real life. The house is also dealing with some poltergeist activity where their pet bird explodes, the toaster catches on fire, and the air conditioner fails to work no matter how many times the dad fixes it. One evening, Jesse has a nightmare that he kills the coach that punished him. He wakes up to discover it really happened. There’s a high school party that makes me honestly question if the storytellers had their own struggles in grasping reality. Lisa has a party and her parents to go to sleep. The dozens of kids then roll out the alcohol and start making out and having sex, all while the parents fail to notice as they have their own intimate moment. Jesse and Lisa almost have sex but Jesse almost provides oral with Freddie’s tongue, leaves, goes to Ron’s, kills Ron, gets absolutely covered in blood, and in a scene that might be one of the top three most ridiculous things I’ve ever watched, returns to Lisa, admits to the killing the coach and Ron (still covered in blood), and Lisa doesn’t care at all. It’s not ironic, it’s not melodramatic, she simply acts like what Jesse is telling him is no different than admitting he had a simple fight with his parents. Freddie resurrects via Jesse at the backyard party and provides a somewhat cool scene minus some exploding hot dogs and Lisa’s dad grabbing a shotgun from a gun cabinet and failing to hit Freddie from only a few yards away. Freddie escapes and Lisa goes to the plant where the neighbors burned him alive and lights Freddie on fire, somehow bringing back Jesse and it all makes so little sense that my brain couldn’t even try to rationalize what was going on. The plot is decent enough in having Freddie want to use a surrogate to enter the real world, but I was left wondering why they were trying to reinvent the wheel. It could have been so easy if they just stuck to the original formula. Freddie comes to the new kid in his dreams. Like Halloween II (1981), it would have just been a larger version of the original story; no longer needing to explain that Freddie can enter the real world with throwaway scenes. It’d use more money to create a larger world. Instead, it was this. Made worse by clearly having scenes that just didn’t work, edited down to the bare bones to just move things along; providing that gawky, ill-equipped feel that sequel directors often have. I’d have to return to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986) and Friday the 13th (1981), but I’m pretty sure this is the worst immediate sequel to the famous four. BELOW: Should have been a flag at "pool party" Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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