I’m not sure where we’re at as far as how many movies on our list could be considered NOT Christmas enough, but not only do I not care, it doesn’t apply to Elf at all anyway. This is a Christmas movie through-and-through. No ifs, ands, or butts. And not only are there are many references to classic Christmas films (including a Burl Ives inspired snowman), it’s a great original story about Santa Claus and Christmas magic as well.
But Elf is really about, well, an Elf. His name is Buddy (played with childlike wonder by Will Ferrell). As an infant, he snuck into Santa’s bag on Christmas and was a stowaway to The North Pole. Once he’s discovered there, Santa decides to keep him and raise him as an elf, and places him under the care of Papa Elf (Bob Newhart). 30 years go by and Buddy still hasn’t realized he’s not an elf, despite being terrible at all the elf jobs (and not to mention that he’s now several feet taller than all of them). As he grows more and more frustrated, Papa Elf finally tells him the truth and sends him on a journey to New York City to find his true father (James Caan). Along the way, He’ll also fall in love with Jovie (Zooey Deschanel) and help to bring the Christmas Spirit in all those around him.
I love this movie.
I consider it to be the best of the “modern” Christmas movies (and that’s a wide range of movies that includes A Christmas Story and Christmas Vacation). Having the incredible Ed Asher play Santa Claus is an inspired choice. He’s just as good as Edmund Gwenn was in Miracle on 34th Street and that’s saying a lot!! He has a mischieveious, magical twinkle and I just love his portrayal.
But casting the legendary Bob Newhart as Papa Elf just might be the icing on the cake and he is able to bring out just the right amount of emotional weight to a role that could have been overacted and forgettable. The same goes for Will Ferrell. His character, as written, could have been annoying but he’s somehow just the right blend of innocence and purity.
But what I love most about this movie is that it doesn’t try to go too raunchy like many recent Christmas films have (Bad Santa for example). There are a handful of innuendos here and there, but never pervasive. Make no mistake: This is a great family film. Buddy’s Christmas spirit is contagious and you will feel it, too. Oh, and the music is INCREDIBLE!! I love it when the reindeer fly over New York City. My heart swells every time.
Elf has become a Christmas staple at our house. It’s one of my wife’s all time favorite movies, and though my daughter is too young to fully appreciate it (it’s her first Christmas!!), we are already starting this tradition with her.
So that concludes our 12 Days of Christmas Movie Reviews. We know that we miscounted and on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day, but oh well. Maybe next year I’LL learn how to count (Yes, it was my fault).
But whatever you’re doing and however you celebrate this year, we hope you’ve had fun with us and we wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!
On a side note, don’t try to eat spaghetti like Buddy does. I made that mistake once and let’s just say it wasn’t pleasant for anyone involved.
The post Day 12 (Merry Christmas!!): Elf (2003) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Is it in the same league as It’s A Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street? No, of course not. It’s silly, it’s zany, and it’s more than a little outrageous…yet this is a movie that is close to my heart. I usually have to be in the right mood to watch something in the Chevy Chase/Steve Martin/John Candy slapstick oeuvre, but I think I could watch Christmas Vacation just about any time. Go figure. Maybe it’s the additional influence of John Hughes’ writing, or the presence of Beverly D’Angelo and the rest of this specific supporting cast, but regardless: this movie makes me happy.
This is the third installment in the National Lampoon’s Vacation series, and starry-eyed Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) is back at it again with his idealistic dreams of the perfect family holiday. This time, however, his expectations seem slightly more attainable– rather than trying to trek across the country (or Europe, for that matter), all he wants is for his family to enjoy a fun, good-ol-fashioned Christmas at home together. Unfortunately for Clark, even that simple goal seems to slip further and further out of reach with one piece of bad luck after another. The tree (which, in direct proportion to Clark’s grandiose ideas about what family gatherings should be, is so “full” that it can’t be contained even by the walls of the house) shatters several windowpanes when released from its bindings, extended family descends upon the Griswolds from all sides, and Clark’s expected company bonus is mysteriously absent. Add to this a few more Chevy Chase-ian mishaps (i.e. falling off/through numerous surfaces, and the meticulous installation of 25,000 twinkle lights–none of which seem to want to work), and Clark finds himself at the end of his rapidly-fraying emotional rope.
Thankfully, though, Clark and the Griswolds DO get their joyful family Christmas in the end (even if there are a few more dead cats and sewer explosions than they bargained for).
I’d wager that when most people think of this movie, they think of Clark’s obsession with the twinkle lights, or Cousin Eddie cutting back on his squirrel consumption because it’s “too high in cholesterol”. It’s true that those scenes are both funny and memorable, but the scene that always sticks with me the most is when Clark accidentally gets trapped in his attic. He gets conked in the head by several loose floorboards, as well as having to don his mother’s mink wrap and gloves to stay warm, but then something unexpected happens. In the middle of all this successful slapstick comedy, he finds an old film reel of Christmas memories from his childhood. Sitting in the floor of his drafty attic, dressed in women’s clothing, Clark watches the reel as Ray Charles croons “The Spirit of Christmas” in the background. Suddenly, we’re not laughing anymore. We see Clark’s eyes misting up (and if you’re me, and you get emotional over Folger’s coffee commercials at Christmas time, your eyes start to mist up as well), and it becomes all too clear what his desperate holiday antics have been trying to recreate. It’s such a powerful scene. Here is a person who, unlike so many of us, has never lost his grasp on how magical the Christmas season can be– even when he’s engrossed in seemingly insignificant minutia, like his 25,000 decorative twinkle lights, it’s all in service of making the holiday special for his family. He wants them to have the same warm memories that he has of Christmas, and at the end of the day, I think that’s what makes the movie so relatable. Yes, it’s a comedy, so everything is exaggerated to the Nth degree. But really, we’ve all been through a semi-dysfunctional family Christmas where you think everything is going to be covered in pillowy snow, pearls, and the dulcet tones of Bing Crosby…and the reality is that your cousin Kurtis stands too close to a candle and lights his sweatshirt on fire.
It’s very nearly impossible to create a “perfect” Christmas for yourself and your family, but none of us will ever stop trying. To me, that’s part of the fun of the season–the memories we make, and the stories we accumulate, while celebrating each other and doing the best we can.
Tomorrow, Micah takes the wheel to review another family classic: Home Alone (1990). Be sure to come back for that one, as well as the last few days of our 12 Days of Christmas review series!!
The post Day 9: National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (1989) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Depending on whether you agree with Topher’s review on White Christmas and it NOT being a “Christmas movie” or Kelley’s review of It’s a Wonderful Life and it NOT being about Christmas, Gremlins might be the third non-Christmas movie on our list. Personally, I think they’re all Christmas films, but the argument could be made that if you can replace Christmas in a film with any other holiday and have little or no change on the plot, then it’s not really about Christmas and thus not a true Christmas movie.
To me, this is akin to colorizing a black-and-white film. Sure, it can be done, and the plot doesn’t change, but that movie was specifically created to look like that, with costumes and set design that photographed best in black-and-white. In that vein, White Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, Gremlins and Die Hard were all written to take place during the Christmas season, and if you were to alter that, you are inherently changing the movie and what the creators envisioned (even if it might not be apparent).
So, I’ll emphatically defend Gremlins as a Christmas movie… and I guess not colorizing black-and-white movies as well.
Gremlins is the blended, twisted creation of director Joe Dante, producer Steven Spielberg, and writer Chris Columbus and their unique influence is clear throughout the entire thing. It also happens to be a fantastic film that blurs the line between being a heartwarming family movie and a gory, frightening film more suited for adults. This is, after all, one of a handful of films in the early 80s that helped lead to the creation of the “PG-13” rating in the U.S. (the other prominent one being Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. What’s up, Spielberg??).
Inventor Randall Peltzer is looking for the perfect Christmas gift for his son Billy. In an eerie and strange shop, he discovers a creature known as a “Mogwai,” but the owner of the shop doesn’t want to sell it. After some back alley dealings with the shop owner’s grandson, Randall is able to purchase the Mogwai, but is given three rules he must follow:
Naturally, not along after Billy receives the Mogwai (which he names Gizmo), he breaks all of these rules. It wouldn’t be a very good movie if all of these rules were followed and the mysterious shop owner’s foreshadowing didn’t come true, right??
The lights in the bathroom prove too bright for Gizmo, but it’s when he gets him wet that the real trouble begins. You see, when water is accidentally spilled on Gizmo, more Mogwai pop out of his back. When these other Mogwai are accidentally fed after midnight, they form a cocoon and go through a metamorphosis to become a larger creature… the Gremlin! Soon, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of them wreaking mischievous havoc all throughout the town of Kingston Falls. And only Billy, his girlfriend Kate, and Gizmo can stop them!!
I love this movie.
I love the strange homages it makes to other films and cartoons (not unlike what Dante did in The Howling). I love that Dick Miller is used to great effect, even giving the reason the creatures are named Gremlins. I love Kate’s bizarre story of how her father died (similar to her Abraham Lincoln memory in Gremlins 2) and I love how much fun it is!! A room full of Gremlins singing “Heigh Ho” while watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?? I mean, what’s not to love????
Seriously, watch this movie this holiday season, especially if you’ve never seen it before!!
Tomorrow is Day 9 and Kelley will be reviewing a movie we disagree on: National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation!!
The post Day 8: Gremlins (1984) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>You’ll shoot your eye out!
Remember kids – drink more Ovalteen
Look it’s Italian! Frageelé
Oh fuuuuuudge!
The interesting thing about each of the moments though are that taken out of the Christmas context could be funny any time of the year. So just as Kelley begged the question with It’s a Wonderful Life and Christopher with White Christmas, is it a Christmas movie? As far as the story is concerned I would equate it to something like The Sand Lot. A collection of memories from boyhood…that just so happen to be at Christmas.
Ralphie is a boy just trying to make it in his world full of annoying brothers, bullies, the threat of soap poison whose only aspiration in life is a a Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model air rifle with a compass in the stock and “this thing which tells time”. The film follows that plot line as it weaves through humorous scenes akin to stories your family tells over the years. You know, the kind of stories a family member says “We need to write theses down and put it in a book.”
There’s not really much to say about A Christmas Story. There is no brilliant storytelling, directing or acting to stop and discuss. That critique aside, it is a fun movie with great one liners and memorable moments. It’s no wonder TBS airs it for a full day (are they still doing that? seriously somebody look that up). You can jump in at anytime and laugh at the kid who gets his tongue stuck to the flag pole, or giggle at Ralphie in his bunny costume. Then you can just as easily turn it off when it’s time to go to grandma’s house or when Christmas dinner is ready. I honestly enjoy this movie and will sit and watch it anytime it’s on but I can understand why some people say they don’t care for it (which is a surprising amount).
A few years ago I was able to see A Christmas Story in a stage play – narration, kid actors and all. I have to say I appreciated the story more in that version. Then again if you have watched this thing a hundred times, you could probably act it out in your living room all the same.
Tomorrow Charles will be reviewing Gremlins from 1984. Oh Gremlins…I look forward to leaving my comments… Thanks everyone!
The post Day 7: A Christmas Story (1983) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>The ever-down-trotten Charlie Brown is searching for the meaning of Christmas through all the commercialism and production that surrounds him. His best “frenemy” Lucy suggests he direct the Christmas play. Through all his efforts and his affection for a whimpy Christmas tree he still never finds the meaning of “Christmas” until Linus steers them on the correct road to understanding.
On the original air date, this adaptation of Charles Schultz popular comic strip found many road blocks in its production. The story behind that almost over shadows the film itself! One of the largest hurdles though was Charles Schultz’s stubbornness to make a standard cartoon but instead focus his effort on what he saw as a force that was demeaning the spirit of the holiday: commercialization. I despise the commercialization of Christmas. Jingle bells popping up as Jack-o-lanterns are coming down sickens me! Black Friday dictates when we should bring peace on Earth and good will toward men. This little film is in my corner in that fight.
A good 3/4 of the film follows the pattern most Peanuts animated stories do; 60 second jokes that you can imagine are lifted straight from the daily four panel comic strip with an over-arching plot line following our glum hero Charlie. All these scenes focus on how disgusted and confused he is on the purpose of Christmas. Is it just a “racket cooked up by an Eastern syndicate”? The story takes a turn though when Charlie Brown and Linus are set out to find a tree, which of course Charlie Brown gets the “Charlie Brown-iest” of all trees. In his dismay he cries out “Doesn’t anybody know the true meaning of Christmas?!” Linus answers with a Bible verse and that scene hugs my heart every time. At this point many people think Charlie Brown has been given the resolution to the problem in the plot. Although this would be the climax of the story, the true resolution comes in the last few seconds of the movie.
Now bear with me as I psycho-analyze a 50 year old children’s program! Linus sets the resolution on the right path but neither Charlie Brown or the gang still understand Christmas. In his speech Linus talks about the Christian understanding of Christmas. Essentially he is saying Christmas is about something bigger than an individual’s needs or wants. This applies to all holidays in this season: Chanukah, Christmas, Solstice, or any non-descript Holiday tradition/celebration. The holidays are about stopping selfish thought and joining in a community whether that is family, friends, faith group or just another human being.
So the true resolution is here: Charlie Brown has abandoned his tree. The gang gathers around it and together decorate it (by waving hands – if only it were that easy I wouldn’t climb a ladder in the freezing cold). Together they agree it’s not a bad tree after all. Then they begin humming together. Notice the optimal word there: TOGETHER. Up to this point every character has had their own agenda, played their part in the play their own way, misunderstood each other and even danced different dances. Side note: my favorite is the kid who just shrugs his shoulders. This is the first time they have done something in harmony. I love that there are no musical singing numbers before this scene which in modern day you would probably see in most children’s Christmas movies. This emphasizes the fact this is the first time they have been together.
What can we learn from the Peanuts gang now 50 years later. The true meaning of Christmas is about stopping to think that there is something bigger than you and we are all part of it TOGETHER. This is an important message as we wave an exhausted good bye to to 2016. Christmas is about stopping all rushing about if just for one day to decorate a tree, sing a chorus of “ooo oooo ooo “, and wish somebody who 364 days of the year you think is “just the worst”! Merry Christmas Donald Trump. Merry Christmas Hillary Clinton. Merry Christmas corporate executive. Merry Christmas welfare squatter. Merry Christmas alt-right nationalist. Merry Christmas liberal media. Merry Christmas Charlie Brown.
The post Day 6: A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Santa Claus (1959), directed by Rene Cardona, is quite possibly the worst movie ever made. It has 2.4 stars on IMDb…NOT EVEN TWO AND A HALF STARS, people! We are morbidly, unaccountably obsessed with it at IJA, and have cried tears of mirth (on more than one occasion) while discussing it on our podcast. As such, I thought we could escape its siren call this year, but alas, I drew the short straw and it looks like the task of finding a way to review it in a written format shall fall to me.
It’s…I…I legitimately don’t know where to start. Santa is an alien? He’s friends with Merlin? There’s a lactose-intolerant demon named Pitch who is trying to thwart Santa by corrupting the children of Mexico City? You tell me.
I guess we’ll start with the basics. This was originally a Spanish language film, but the copy we’ve all seen at IJA is the dubbed-over English version. I’m not sure if the producers didn’t quite have the budget to pull it off, or if they just didn’t care about the English version enough to devote more time to its creation, but the result is laughably absurd. The horrible dubbing and bizarre voiceovers work in tandem to set an incredibly low bar, right from the opening sequence (which, by the way, is a ten minute head-scratcher of Santa just pumping his arms up and down on the organ and listing the countries of the world).
On top of the hashed-together quality, the storyline makes NO SENSE. In this version of the Santa legend, Saint Nick isn’t a magical human or an elf, but is instead a festive, jolly alien who spends 364 days a year circling the planet in his wintry spacecraft. He also has several helper children aboard the ship, all from different and specifically-mentioned countries, but then later we start to wonder if they might actually be aliens as well (they have no idea what Earth customs are or what humans eat). Basically, the story boasts more plot holes than I would have thought possible for a movie that made it all the way through production, and it’s kind of hilarious how glaring most of them are. If we were to discuss all the gaps and oddities in detail here, however, this review would be 78 pages long. So, I guess I will refrain. But…wow.
Santa’s main mission throughout this gem of a film is, of course, to fly down to Earth on Christmas via his animatronic reindeer sled. In addition to these creeptastic deer-bots that he winds up with The World’s Largest Key, Santa has a few other tricks up his sleeve as well. Courtesy of his friend Merlin the magician (?!), Santa can harness the powers of an Invisibility Flower, some Dream Dust, and a vibrating, waistline-reducing, workout belt that I can only assume he or Merlin bought from a space infomercial at 3 a.m. Seriously. All of these things are real in the movie. Unfortunately for Santa, his gift delivery process is impeded by the antics of Pitch–one of Satan’s minions, who has been threatened with chocolate ice cream if he fails to corrupt enough children to keep Santa from giving out presents (yep, that’s real also).
It’s a weird, awful, train wreck of a movie. Oddly enough, I think Santa Claus would have made a better stage production. It reminds me in many ways of a nightmarish Nutcracker ballet, and I wonder what could have been done to that end with the right director and budget. The costumes (Pitch is dressed in a spandex/Shakespearean pantaloon combo throughout), the song and dance numbers, and the theatrics in general all lend themselves much more to a ballet than a film, if you ask me. It will probably never happen, and it likely shouldn’t, but if Santa Claus ever DID make it to the stage…I have to say, I’d be intrigued. Hamilton happened, so the sky is apparently the limit with what can be successful on Broadway!
Tomorrow, be sure to join Micah for Day 5 of the 12 Days of Christmas series, as he reviews A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965). Now that we’ve gotten Santa Claus out of the way, things can only go up from here!!
The post Day 4: Santa Claus (1959) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>What makes White Christmas interesting is that it isn’t really a Christmas movie. Other than the title and title song, there isn’t really much about Christmas in the whole movie. Sure it is set at Christmas and the cast even dresses in fur trimmed red velvet outfits, but not much else. Other Christmas movies tend to talk about the true meaning of Christmas, or the Christmas spirit, or something of that nature. Not White Christmas. Even the two love stories seem to be somewhat tangential to our heroes main focus. In the end this is really the story of two Army buddies trying to save their old general who they greatly respect. Oh and they really want it to snow.
The movie opens in 1944 during the war where Bob and Phil, played by Bing Crosby and Danny Kayne, are serving. Here it becomes quite obvious that their commanding general, Major General Waverly played by Dean Jagger, is a loved almost father figure to the men. Fast forward several years through the shenanigans that lead our duo to a ski lodge in Vermont, and they once again come face to with their beloved general. The general owns a ski lodge that is having a hard time making ends meet due to the lack of snow, and the general is afraid he’s going to lose it all. Bob and Phil manage to get the message out to their old outfit that they need their help, and they all come to the aid of Major General Waverly. To these two men the most important thing in their lives was the war and the men they served with, that is their true family. So from that perspective this is the story of two men trying to get the whole family together for Christmas. I’m sure someone somewhere could use this movie as a starting point to examine the deep effects of the war and PTSD on the Greatest Generation. This idea seems just as relevant today, which may be why it still holds up so well.
I don’t say any of this to diminish the amazing performances of Rosemary Clooney or Vera-Ellen, both are great in their respective roles. And don’t over look the musical aspects of this movie either, “White Christmas” sung by Bing Crosby is the best selling single of all time. And the dance numbers are great too, Vera-Ellen was one of the youngest Rockettes, and her dancing skills are amazing. But to call this movie a “Christmas Movie” and relegate it to sentimentalism that pops up once a year is selling it short. This is a movie that brings up the topics of war, growing old, exploitation in media, and what it means to be a family. This is a great movie, and I hope you will enjoy it with an open mind.
Tomorrow is Santa Claus (1959) by Kelley, hope to see you all then!
The post Day 3: White Christmas (1954) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Just so there’s no confusion, I am talking about the original 1947 classic, not the 1994 remake. And while I actually like that movie considerably, nothing holds a candle to the original.
It’s not just the best Christmas movie on our list, it’s probably the best Christmas movie ever, and one of the best movies of all time. I’m sure there’s a certain sense of nostalgia at play here, because I certainly remember watching this with my mom every Christmas when I was a boy. This film that she watched as a girl was now captivating me, and though I didn’t know it at the time, it helped foster my love for movies, and for the wonder of them and the joy they could bring.
Before I get too mushy and sentimental, here’s a summary: Macy’s Department Store quickly needs a Santa Claus replacement for their Thanksgiving Parade after their planned one shows up drunk, and who else should be there but a man named Kris Kringle (Edmund Gwenn in an Oscar-winning role). Kris is quite simply incredible and so, the Director of Special Events, Doris Walker (Maureen O’Hara), hires him to continue “playing” Santa at the store. Naturally, he’s widely successful there as well, but he’s being completely open and honest with Macy’s customers, even if that means sending them to other stores where certain Christmas gifts can be had for cheaper. Once the management find out, they’re not too happy. Tack on the fact that Kris actually believes he’s the real Santa, and they decide he needs to be institutionalized. A court case ensues, and Fred Gailey (John Payne), is the only young lawyer who will help defend him. Fred also happens to be in love with Doris, but she’s pretty emotionally distant. She’s taught her daughter, Susan (Natalie Wood), to be detached as well and to not believe in fantasy and make-believe, including Santa Claus. So, not only must Kris win his case and prove he’s the real deal, but he also must somehow convince Doris and Susan that there is magic in the world, and that miracles do exist. A tall order perhaps, but not for Kris Kringle!!
There’s a particular scene with a young Dutch girl whose adoptive mother doesn’t think will be able to speak with Santa, but lo and behold, Santa speaks her language!! But OF COURSE he does!! Even though this beautiful moment is brief, it still manages to catapult the film into another level.
Then there’s the courtroom scene with all the mail bags being brought it. I can’t help but smile each and every time I see it.
Gwenn gives the definitive portrayal of Santa Claus, in my opinion. It goes beyond an actor playing a role. It’s transcendent. He makes the audience believe in him, as well, and the Christmas joy he spreads feels genuine, and never too saccharine. There’s a magical twinkle in his eye that will live forever in celluloid, and that Christmas joy will only continue to spread as future generations embrace this movie, just like it did for me and my mom… and soon my daughter.
Tomorrow, it’s Day 3 with Topher reviewing White Christmas!!
The post Day 2: Miracle on 34th Street (1947) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>This timeless, Christmas classic is a movie that is appropriate to watch all year long, because it’s really not about Christmas. It is, however, about many aspects of the human experience that we all reflect on a bit more during the holiday season. It’s about family dynamics, the karmic wonderment of selfless deeds being repaid, compassion for your fellow man…the list goes on. Frank Capra is often known for the unabashed and over-the-top wielding of sentiment in his films, but It’s a Wonderful Life tugs on your heartstrings in all the right ways.
In an “aw shucks” casting match made in heaven, Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed (#Pearlz4Dayz) star as sweethearts George Bailey and Mary Hatch. The story mainly follows George as he grows from boy to man in the small town of Bedford Falls; Mary, too, is an integral part of both the story and George’s happiness. As their life together unfolds, we see that George is a very special person with a tender heart. He saves his brother from a deadly fall through thin ice, stops a bereaved pharmacist from accidentally pouring poison into pill capsules instead of medicine, and takes over his father’s struggling Building & Loan company even though it means putting his own college dreams on hold. Time and time again, George thinks of others before himself, but a lifetime of doing so eventually starts to wear him down.
He becomes frustrated that despite his best efforts, his family lives in a drafty house and has so little money with which to make ends meet. Meanwhile, the power-hungry Mr. Potter (who has Bedford Falls squarely in his pocket) makes money hand-over-fist by exploiting the townspeople George fights so hard to take care of. He feels defeated, insignificant, and crushed beneath the weight of a world that’s moving too quickly to appreciate him. When his uncle misplaces a large sum of money needed to balance their business accounts, George finally loses any shred of hope he had left, and believes he is worth more to his family dead than alive. He goes to a nearby bridge to jump, thinking that his debts can at least be wiped clean with his life insurance policy, but he is stopped by the appearance of his guardian angel, Clarence. George is skeptical at first, but Clarence is able to show him the life his family and friends would have had if he had never been born (suffice it to say that their Georgeless lives are much worse). Much to his surprise, George realizes just how much of an impact he has had on everyone he knows, and he urges Clarence to let him go back to living again.
It’s a Wonderful Life has been parodied and referenced frequently in pop culture over the years, but it’s impressive how well the film holds up today. There is great acting all around, and I defy you not to tear up a little when the citizens of Bedford Falls come out en masse to show George how much his friendship has meant to them. If you remain stone-faced during this final scene, I think you might be dead inside…and we probably can’t be friends anymore.
Even during the dark times, it is indeed a wonderful life, and this is a wonderful movie.
Tomorrow, be sure to join us again for Day 2 of our 12 Days of Christmas series! Charles will be reviewing another beloved family classic: Miracle on 34th Street (1947). You won’t want to miss it!
The post Day 1: It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Day 1: It’s A Wonderful Life (1946);
Day 2: Miracle on 34th Street (1947);
Day 3: White Christmas (1954);
Day 4: Santa Claus (1959);
Day 5: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964);
Day 6: A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965);
Day 7: A Christmas Story (1983);
Day 8: Gremlins (1984);
Day 9: National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (1989);
Day 10: Home Alone (1990);
Day 11: How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000);
Day 12: Elf (2003).
Many of you may not know this, but The Visit is an M. Night Shyamalan film. I imagine when I say his name, there’s a good chance you’re rolling your eyes and thinking back on some of his… shall we say… lesser films, but the truth of the matter is that he is a great filmmaker. When you’ve got The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, and Signs as back-to-back-to-back films you’ve created on your résumé, you’re clearly doing something right. It’s a shame that he’s taken such a beating recently (so much so that Sony buried his name in all the marketing for After Earth), but I believe The Visit (which was created under Blumhouse) is a return to form for him and should hopefully win him back the respect he deserves.
If you read my review for [Rec], you know my contempt for “found footage” movies. I realized after I wrote it that I actually have enjoyed a few, if I’m being completely honest. I think the Paranormal Activity movies have been pretty great, and I even liked V/H/S and Creep, so the genre CAN work on me. And it did for The Visit, as I didn’t find myself annoyed with the gimmicky approach at all and was genuinely creeped out in quite a few scenes.
It’s basically about a brother and sister who go to spend a week with their grandparents. That may sound perfectly normal, but they’ve never actually met their grandparents, so they have no idea what they look like. Years ago, their mother had a falling out with them and she left home, ever looking back. Despite that, everything is good… at first. As the days pass, however, they notice their grandparents doing strange things, especially after 9:30pm each night. Despite multiple warnings about being in bed before that time, the two never are as their curiosity gets the better of them. Eventually, they think their grandparents might even be trying to kill him!! Oh no!!!!!!
What I like most about this movie is how, despite a very straightforward premise where something is obviously wrong, it doesn’t quite play out like you think it should. It also pushes the boundaries of the PG-13 ratings system, and not even with gore, but with disturbing subject matter. I think that has a lot to do with M. Night Shyamalan’s “classic” directing sensibilities (and maybe also because his goriest film to date, The Happening, happened to be one of his worst ones. It is his only R-rated film, too, so I’m sure that factors in). It seems like he has always tried to be this generation’s Hitchcock, especially by doing cameos in his films, but he certainly does know how to ratchet up the suspense in each scene and then let it play out at its own pace. And that definitely works for this movie. It’s a mystery throughout, but some of the creepiest scenes actually happen early on (like the grandmother eerily chasing after them in the crawlspace). By the time all is revealed, it certainly feels earned and isn’t cheap at all (even if my wife and I saw it coming… something our friend Toby did not), and that’s saying a lot for a film these days. I’m actually really excited to see how he will approach Split now.
All of that’s not to say this is a perfect film, however, as there were a few goofy moments here and there (namely the main kid rapping in the film, and then doing an extended rap during the credits), but it can be easily forgiven because the film is so good in other areas. Overall, it just works.
Well, that just about does it for this year’s 31 Days of Horror. We sincerely hope that you’ve enjoyed our picks and have expanded your horror cinema knowledge by watching our overview videos. I know we’ve had a blast!!
So, on behalf of all of us here at It’s Just Awesome DOT com, we’d like to say thanks and… HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!!!!!!
The post Day 31 (Happy Halloween!!): The Visit (2015) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I need to point out that I consider Insidious to be one of the scariest movies of this decade so far. I bring that up because it’s also from director James Wan and shares many of the same styles (and even actors) as The Conjuring. Insidious scared the heck out of me when I watched it in theaters and I had a hard time sleeping for days. I really wanted to see The Conjuring in theaters, but I just never got around to it. This was much to the chagrin of my friend Robert because he loves horror films, too, and we share many of the same tastes in movies.
This year, after he remembered that I hadn’t seen it, he decided he’d buy me the blu-ray version of it for my birthday (as well as a few other scary films, including the 3D version of Dial M for Murder) and wanted to watch it with me at my house. This meant that my wife would also be watching it and as you may recall, she HATES scary movies. But she agreed because it was for my birthday.
Now, after having watched it… wow.
Wow!!!!!
But first, a synopsis.
It follows a couple of real life case files from the Warrens, who were actual paranormal investigators in the 1960s and 70s. The first case (and the opening of this film) is the story of a possessed doll named Annabelle. The second case (and main storyline) is about the event that eventually inspired The Amityville Horror. It’s about a family that begins experiencing supernatural occurrences, including strange noises and freaky apparitions, not long after they move into an older house. They hire the Warrens to investigate it and well, to say much more would spoil a lot of the fun. James Wan really understands horror films, and knows that long takes and fluid camera movements can really amp up the suspension, which is then released with a sudden loud noise or movement on screen. These often catch you off guard and make you laugh at yourself for screaming out loud.
This movie is AT LEAST as scary as Insidious, and when you take into account the “inspired by true events” aspect of it, it may, in fact, be the better movie. It’s also a bit leaner and doesn’t have an ending that feels out slightly of left field (as some people felt was the case with Insidious. I disagree with those people, however). Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed The Conjuring (and my wife thoroughly hated it, natch). It reminded me a lot of Poltergeist and other haunted house films, too (maybe even The Haunting). It seems very much rooted in a more classic style of filmmaking and that makes it stand out to me. It’s impressive on every level and I loved it. There’s little gore on display here, and that really works for this material. Thanks to my friend Robert for turning me on to this movie. I’ve got to catch up and watch The Conjuring 2 and the spin-off film Annabelle.
Tomorrow, we will close out this whole thing with M. Night Shyamalan’s The Visit!!
The post Day 30: The Conjuring (2013) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Today, though, we’re talking about James Watkins’ The Woman in Black (2012).
This movie, starring Daniel Radcliffe, is an adaptation of Susan Hill’s 1983 horror novella of the same name. Interestingly enough, The Woman in Black is also an immensely successful stage play in London–the second longest-running play in the history of the West End, after The Mouse Trap. Several years ago, my husband and I happened upon a production of the play in Fort Worth, TX, and it is EXCELLENT. At first, I was skeptical because there are only two actors and very few props. I thought it was going to be the kind of pretentious, overly-artsy production beloved by people who say “theatah” and no one else. Suffice it to say, I was completely delighted to be wrong. If you have the chance, I highly recommend buying some tickets and checking it out. It is scary as hell, and particularly impressive given the minimalistic approach.
But, alas, we are not here to talk about the play!
I did not enjoy the 2012 movie as much as the stage performance, but Watkins’ adaptation IS eerie and decently well done. The story is set in the late 19th century, and centers around young junior solicitor, Arthur Kipps (Radcliffe), who is still grieving over the beautiful wife he lost during childbirth. Serving as a painful reminder of that loss is Arthur’s young son, Joseph. It quickly becomes apparent that, despite his best efforts, Arthur’s grief has impeded his ability to perform at work, and his employer gives him one last case to prove his commitment to the law firm. For Joseph’s sake, Arthur agrees, and he proceeds by train to the gloomy Eel Marsh House. We learn that the former mistress of the house, Mrs. Alice Drablow, has passed away and Arthur’s assignment is to sort through the mountain of paperwork and tidy up the widow’s legal affairs.
After arriving in the remote English village where Eel Marsh House is located, Arthur is received with attitudes of wary suspicion (and outright hostility, in some cases) by the townspeople regarding his business with the late Mrs. Drablow. He cannot account for this, until superstitious ghost stories about the old manor reach his ears–namely, stories involving a malevolent woman in black. According to local folklore, each time the woman in black in seen by someone, a child from the village dies in a horrible, tragic fashion. Arthur is dismissive of this at first, but is later horrified to find that he DOES see a woman in black at Eel Marsh House, and children from the village DO begin dying violently, one by one.
This movie does a great job of weaving an eerie, uncomfortable feeling throughout. The horror is understated; it isn’t like The Grudge, where all the spine-tingling moments come from the visuals themselves. The Woman in Black takes a subtler approach to scaring the viewer, which I believe ultimately makes it more successful as a film. Yes, the ghostly appearances of the woman in black are extremely creepy, but it’s a combination of her unexpected presence, the camerawork, and the general sense of quiet unease that ultimately evokes fear in the viewer.
I do wonder if the movie would have been a bit stronger with slightly different casting. I like Daniel Radcliffe, don’t get me wrong, but he seems a bit out of place here. He has zero fatherly chemistry with his 4 year old son, and I just don’t ever fully believe him in this particular role. Maybe it’s a case of being pigeonholed as Harry Potter forevermore, but Radcliffe as Arthur Kipps did not work for me. The character is supposed to be young, but Radcliffe seems TOO young to be a great fit. I’m not sure who could have done it better…I’ll have to think about that.
Regardless, The Woman in Black is a decently executed horror flick, full of suspense and ridiculously unsettling dolls from the 1800s. A brief aside: why are old-timey children’s toys so frightening?!
Tomorrow, Charles will be reviewing The Conjuring (2013), so be sure to stick with us as we close out the final days of 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 29: The Woman in Black (2012) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>[Rec] is a Spanish film that was later remade into Quarantine, but they’re both found footage movies and… I don’t like either one of them.
I have to be upfront: I just don’t like found footage movies. The gimmick quickly wears thin and I grow impatient as the filmmakers constantly come up with new excuses for a person to be recording what’s happening instead of just abandoning the camera and running away (like any normal person would do). I also get annoyed at the characters on-screen yelling at the cameraman. That seems to be a huge staple in these kinds of movies, and only exaggerates the generally poor acting that is typical in this genre. It also distracts and reminds you that you’re watching a movie and totally takes you out of the moment. [Rec] is certainly no different, and when I heard, “GET THAT CAMERA OUT OF HERE,” about the 100th time, I wanted to throw my remote at the screen. And that’s not even counting all of the ways they have to cheat the footage to provide cuts, because, after all, they’re not actually going to do any of this in real time despite what the commercials say. Oh? What’s that? A character in [Rec] wants to check out the footage we just watched so we’re literally going to see it being rewound and then played again? Awesome. You know, for a movie that’s not even an hour and half, that feels like a great way to pad the time (while wasting more of mine).
Even La casa muda, while not a found footage movie, used digital techniques to hide their cuts so that the movie appeared as one long shot. It’s similar to what Hitchcock did practically in Rope, so it can be done, and I think these movies would work so much better if they did. I mean, I guess they could always do it for real but then it might turn out as boring as Russian Ark, so maybe that’s not such a great idea, either.
Then there’s the cinephile in me who wants the cinematography to serve the story in a meaningful way, with a variety of beautiful shots instead of this nausea inducing, shaky-cam garbage. I get it. It makes it seem real and raw and in your face. But it’s a freakin’ movie!! We know it’s fake and you don’t have to give us all motion sickness just because you’re trying to (over)act like it’s not. I didn’t like it in Cloverfield or The Blair Witch Project and I don’t like it in this movie. If you read my review for 28 Days Later, then you know my disdain for crappy, digital video. Think of how beautiful and atmospheric this movie could have been with the right cinematography.
The basic plot of [Rec] is that a television reporter is doing an extended report on firefighters and tags along with them on a call to a local apartment building. It’s not long after they arrive that the whole place is quarantined by a government agency and they’re all trapped inside as a zombie-like apocalypse begins to happen, with any dead residents coming back to life and attacking the living. Yes, it’s a found footage zombie movie (or is it a found footage movie about demonic possession? I’m not sure). And yes, it is claustrophobic and frightening in key places. Admittedly, this could be due (at least in part) to the found footage approach, but again, it wears out its welcome and is much more of a con than a pro.
But [Rec] is also an extremely slow-burner of a film, with nothing really happening in the first hour, and then everything sort of crammed in the finale. I did enjoy the night vision during this end sequence, and it did remind me a lot of the similar scene in The Silence of the Lambs, but not nearly enough to make me enjoy the movie. I’d say avoid this one and its many sequels (as well as Quarantine and its many sequels). But if you must watch this movie, please, please, please don’t watch the English dubbed version. It makes the gimmick even worse because the voices don’t match the characters at all and it comes across as horrendously bad (and laughable) due to the huge disconnect.
Tomorrow, Kelley will be back with Hammer Films’ The Woman in Black as we start our last decade of this year’s 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 28: [Rec] (2007) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I first saw this movie about 4 years ago, when my friend craftily talked me into watching it by taking advantage of my deep and abiding love for Sarah Michelle Gellar (there is no greater Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan than yours truly). In retrospect, I’m still a little surprised that I allowed myself to be hoodwinked in this manner, but I had convinced myself at the time that all adults should be able to watch scary movies. I have since abandoned that notion, as the years have proven that watching scary ghost movies never works out well for me. They absolutely always keep me up at night. On the evening in question, however, I foolishly thought maybe this time will be different!, even though I knew, KNEW, that it wouldn’t.
The always-hilarious Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half says it best in her blog post about Expectations vs. Reality. The entire post is fantastic, but these two sentences resonate particularly strongly with my Grudge-watching experience:
“Immediately after I turned off the TV, a feeling of apprehension welled up inside of me. I could feel my psyche organizing what I had just seen into a highlight reel that will be freely embellished by my own imagination and then called upon to torture me for the rest of my life.”
So. True. While I was actually watching the movie, I was fairly proud of myself for how well I was handling it. The Grudge isn’t what I’d call a great film (a theory supported by its meager 5.9 stars on IMDb), so it was easy enough to write off what was happening on screen as being silly or unexplained while it was unfolding before me. But the visuals, you guys. THE VISUALS! That’s what gets me about this movie. The visuals are ridiculously disturbing, and they spring unbidden into my brain every time I close my eyes. Even my sweet, adorable dog, who follows me wherever I go, looked at me from a weird angle just now and made me want to run screaming from the room. So, despite some story-related weaknesses, it is creepy AF and just thinking about it makes every hair on the back of my neck stand up. Any time demon/ghost children are involved, or bloody spirits are crab-walking across the ceiling and making otherworldly creaking sounds, just…nope. Nope, nope, nope.
Instead of ending on that awful note, I will leave you with this fake Saturday Night Live commercial (starring Kristen Wiig, and drawing inspiration from both The Grudge and The Ring):
http://www.nbc.com/saturday-night-live/video/new-disney-show/n36749
Tomorrow, Charles will be reviewing the movie [Rec] from 2007. Be sure to come back and check it out–we’re in the final stretch of 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 27: The Grudge (2004) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>It’s not exactly accurate to call this a “zombie” movie, as many of the usual tropes aren’t on display here. Instead, there’s an Ebola-like disease called Rage that infects people and causes them to be much more aggressive and animalistic than they would otherwise be, granting them what appears to be superhuman speed and agility (I wonder if this movie started the whole “fast” zombie thing?) But then again, there’s obviously many zombie elements on display here, especially what happens if one of these Rage fueled people bite you.
The movie starts out as an animal activist group breaks in a laboratory with the intent to release caged lab monkeys. One of the workers there pleads for this not to happen because, according to him, the monkeys have been infected (most likely through various lab tests and studies) and doing so will cause a massive epidemic. The group doesn’t listen, and one is immediately killed in an attack. Flash forward 28 days later, and Jim (played by Cillian Murphy) wakes up all alone in a hospital, extremely confused (I’m not sure if The Walking Dead was inspired by this or not). As he leaves the empty hospital, he discovers that all of London is completely deserted. When he finally discovers people in a church, he’s surprised to discover that they’re all infected, and they all seemingly want to kill him. Even a priest tries to attack him!
As Jim tries to outrun these red-eyed crazy people, he is suddenly aided by Selena (Naomie Harris) and Mark (Noah Huntley). They help him out and bring him up to speed, though details are sketchy. It seems no one knows the true scope of the virus just yet, and whether or not it’s contained just to England or if it has spread to America. This is their new bleak world, where surviving is all you can do and happiness is a luxury they no longer have. Eventually, they run into Frank (Brendan Gleeson) and his daughter Hannah (Megan Burns) and form a family of sorts. When they hear a broadcast, sent from what is apparently a safe haven, they decide to make their way to it, hoping against hope things will be different once they get there.
There are a lot of things I like about this movie. The acting is solid all around, and I really love the idea of a social rage as the culprit rather than just some generic explanation we usually get in zombie movies. It’s more realistic and really works overall. But my favorite part, by far, is the opening scenes in an abandoned London. It’s haunting and really separates this film from nearly all others. It’s not an effect either; they legitimately closed off sections of London to film their scenes. It’s quite remarkable.
What’s not so remarkable, and something I have never understood, is the way this movie was shot, which was on inexpensive, prosumer digital cameras (mainly the Canon XL-1, I believe). Now, digital video has come a LONG way since 2002 and in many cases, can be nearly identical to film, but here, it was still new technology and is extremely distracting. These are standard definition cameras, with a low dynamic range, and it’s just an awful mess visually. If Danny Boyle wanted more realism, he could have gone the route of Michael Mann in Public Enemies and made the sound design be awful as well. Again, I think Public Enemies is a terrible, terrible movies but at least it sucks consistently on video and audio. Here, Boyle still uses professional audio equipment, coupled with all kinds of expensive gear to physically move the cameras, so he didn’t really stay true to a documentary type feel, if that’s even what he was going for. Essentially, it sounds like a big budget movie and has some professional camera tricks, but is marred by horrendous imagery and low resolution, muddy textures. It adds nothing to the movie for me what-so-ever and was especially problematic when I saw it in theaters because blown-up, it looks even worse. The style basically dates this movie to a time before inexpensive HD cameras were a thing, let alone something we carry around in our pockets. The sequel, 28 Weeks Later, was shot on 16mm and looks 1000x better, while still maintaining a gritty, raw texture so it could have worked here as well. In fact, imagine if those empty streets of London had been captured on 16mm, or Heaven forbid, 35mm. I think we’d have been talking about the Oscar winning cinematography at that point.
Still, the bleak tone of the film works quite well, and the imagery of London is impressive, so I’d say check it out for those reasons alone. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about the look of it.
Tomorrow, I pass it back to Kelley as she reviews The Grudge (which is the American remake of Ju-on: The Grudge)!!
The post Day 26: 28 Days Later (2002) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Today we’re talking about Ringu, which is the Japanese movie that was remade into The Ring. These films have nearly identical plot points and key scenes, but this is the rare occasion where I actually STRONGLY prefer the remake, and it’s mostly due to the small changes made, as well as a key few differences in style. As such, I’ll be (sort of) reviewing them together.
Both movies are about a mysterious VHS tape that contains a creepy, surreal video of unknown origins. The story goes that if you watch it, you will get a phone call telling you that you have 7 days to live. And it appears that the people who have received that call actually do die a week later in horrific, unexplainable ways. A reporter investigating the story watches the tape for herself, and then brings along her ex-husband to help her solve the mystery of it before her time runs out.
Maybe that doesn’t sound all that scary to you, but here’s that video from Ringu (and The Ring’s version as well, just for comparison):
To this day, I still feel guilty showing people that video. I feel like I’m sentencing them to their death or something.
Anyway, I should tell you right off the bat that the American version scared the crap out of me the first time I watched it (which, by the way, was long before I saw the Japanese one). My friends knew I was particularly freaked out, and so waited until the middle of the night to call me and say, “7 DAYS!!” when I answered groggily. Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep much that night and actually turned my tube T.V. away from me. True story. Pathetic, but true.
I digress (I do that a lot). Where was I?
Oh, yeah.
I love both movies for the mystery that unravels as you watch them. They’re both great detective stories that happens to feature terrifying images, but still a mystery at their core none-the-less. And they both do a great job of keep you on the edge of your seat with constant reminders of what day it is and how long the characters have to live. What I happen to like more about the American version is that they don’t shy away from showing what happens after those 7 days are up. The Japanese version more or less goes black-and-white and freeze frames during these supernatural moments, but the American shows you so much more. It’s a much better effect, and has a lasting impact.
I also strongly prefer the ferry scene in the American one, where we see a horse jump off the ferry and turn the waters red. I can’t get that image out of my head nearly 15 years later, and probably never will.
And finally, the differences in the characters bugs me. In Ringu, it seems both main characters can read the thoughts of others and see into their past. It’s not really explained too terribly well, and seems like a gimmicky, cheap way to throw in some exposition via flashbacks. The Ring doesn’t even have a hint of that and is all the better for it. I also don’t understand the characters’ reactions in Ringu when they’re in the well at the end, because neither one of them seem too terribly frightened or grossed out to be in the murky water with a corpse; in fact, it’s downright cheesy in this scene when the corpse is finally found.
So, honestly, for all of these reasons, I would say skip Ringu and go straight for The Ring. It’s one of the best horror films ever made, even if the technology in it is dated (I seriously don’t know anyone that owns a VCR anymore). Also, stay away from The Ring Two (which, interestingly enough, was directed by Ringu’s director, Hideo Nakata).
Oh, and there’s a new Ring movie coming out next year that looks pretty scary, too.
Tomorrow is Day 26, and I’ll be back with 28 Days Later. Hope to see you soon!!
The post Day 25: Ringu (1998) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I have to say: I’m not a big fan of this movie. I realize that this will be perceived by many as blasphemy (sorry, Charles and Micah…and Mike…and the rest of planet Earth), but I have a sneaking suspicion that I might just not be that into John Carpenter films. They are interesting, and revolutionary, and blah blah blah. The only one I can remember actually liking, however, is Halloween, and I even have certain beefs with that! It is admittedly a classic, and helped to pave the way for the Slasher genre…but I digress.
In the Mouth of Madness = thumbs down in my book.
The movie stars Sam Neill (in his best attempt to be Pierce Brosnan) as John Trent, an insurance investigator who believes he smells something fishy about the disappearance of superstar horror author, Sutter Cane. The script both pokes fun at, and pays homage to, the success of Stephen King–a man who has achieved tremendous acclaim by understanding that what most people want, beyond the incomprehensible phenomenon of 50 Shades of Grey, is to poop their pants in fright.
As Trent investigates Cane’s mysterious vanishing act, he enlists (read: is forced to accept) the help of his terrible Girl Friday, Linda Styles (played by a hopelessly lackluster Julie Carmen). Styles is Cane’s editor, as well as a fervent champion of the author’s work, and she assures Trent that Cane’s disappearance is no orchestrated PR stunt. As the pair wend their way through the creepily quaint town of Hobb’s End, Styles and Trent begin to realize that certain aspects of Cane’s novels are coming to life around them. To go a step farther, they believe that the entire TOWN has been forged from the sinister depths of Sutter Cane’s mind, and anybody foolish enough to remain will surely be a page-bound prisoner forevermore.
As the movie stares down one eerie rabbit hole after another, we are given to understand that anybody who reads Sutter Cane’s novels (or sees the movie adaptations) goes stark raving mad. There are some interesting things said here about our perception of reality, sanity, and what is normal…but it’s not enough to carry the film for me. It’s too weird.
That’s the word I keep circling back to: W-E-I-R-D. I’m trying to think of other things to say about the movie, or other ways I could possibly describe it, but that’s the word that continually springs to mind. In the Mouth of Madness is not bad, necessarily, it’s just freakin’ weird. I don’t recommend it, as I feel you probably have better things to do with your time; but it could be worth it if you’ve, say, just ingested a boatload of hallucinogenic mushrooms and are currently contemplating how crazy hands are.
Tomorrow, Charles will be reviewing a little film called Ringu (1998), which gives me the willies to even type. So, you’ll definitely want to come back for that one. In the mean time, be sure to catch up on any 31 Days of Horror movies you might have missed, and stay tuned for our final week!!
The post Day 24: In the Mouth of Madness (1994) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Today we will be talking about Bernard Rose’s 1992 slasher, Candyman.
First of all, I really enjoyed this movie. I wasn’t sure if I would, given that most scary movies past the year 1990 creep me out extensively. Candyman is indeed creepy–there are some excellent jump scares and chilling effects–but it effectively toes the line between scaring me in the moment and giving me nightmares later.
The story begins with graduate students Helen Lyle (Virginia Madsen) and Bernadette Walsh (Kasi Lemmons) conducting research interviews on urban legend for their thesis. The two friends gather all kinds of material from their undergraduate interview subjects, but most intriguing is a lead on what appears to be a real-life perpetrator of the “candyman” legend. Cabrini Green, a nearby Chicago housing project, has been the site of several recent, grisly murders–murders committed by a man with a hook, who appears to have come through the walls to slash apart his unsuspecting victims. Even more compelling is the fact that the residents of Cabrini Green genuinely believe that the murders were committed by the spooky, supernatural candyman, not just a flesh and blood man impersonating him.
Meanwhile, Helen is a skeptic (Bernadette is a little less so), and she continues to poke around Cabrini Green in an academic quest for answers. In so doing, she incurs the wrath of the candyman, and becomes a victim of both physical and psychological torment. There are some pretty disturbing scenes in this movie, and Bernard Rose does not shy away from gore when the situation calls for it.
Perhaps the strongest element of the film is Virginia Madsen’s performance. Madsen is classically gorgeous, and the filmmakers find creative ways to highlight that beauty through lighting and shot setup. It lends a very ethereal quality to the film, which I think supports the supernatural tilt of the story. Visuals aside, her character is an interesting combination of qualities that you don’t often see in female horror roles. She’s strong, she’s tough, she’s no-nonsense…but she’s also vulnerable and not immune to the terrors unfolding around her. Usually, in films like these, women seem to fall at one end of the spectrum or the other. In Candyman, though, Madsen is both the heroine and the victim, which I find fascinating.
Unfortunately, much like The Fly, I think Candyman has a significantly stronger first half than second. The beginning immediately reeled me in, and I was invested in the research that Helen and Bernadette were undertaking. I thought it was going to be a suspenseful thriller about a psychopath taking advantage of local belief in urban legend, but instead, we’re given a movie that can’t make up its mind about what it wants to be. (*SPOILERS AHEAD*) Is the candyman corporeal? I’m still not sure. He doesn’t show up on the hospital video feed, but he’s able to alter his physical surroundings time and time again (mostly to implicate Helen for his horrifying deeds). He’s also able to be killed…so does that mean he was formerly alive? There isn’t really an explanation for why Helen’s actions at the bonfire would work, so it just leaves you confused. I do like the final scene of the movie where Helen, as the new candyman, exacts her long-overdue revenge…but why would she have become the new candyman in the first place? After she’s killed the original, why wouldn’t it end there? The way the second half is handled isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I do think they missed an opportunity to take the film in a stronger direction.
With so many of these horror movies, I get the sense that maybe they’re TRYING to confuse and befuddle– and if that’s the case, well done, filmmakers. At times it just feels lazy to me, though. It’s a way to not have to wrap anything up, and to get away with cramming in whatever odd plot tangents they feel like making. It may just be a matter of personal preference, but I prefer stories to have tidier endings. Or, at least, to have purposeful cliffhangers. I find all this “it’s whatever you want it to mean!” stuff to be a little unsatisfying.
Overall, though, I did really like this movie. The art of it is extremely well executed, and the acting is great. You can check it out on Netflix DVD, and I hope you’ll let me know what YOU think about the ending!
Tomorrow, join me again as I review John Carpenter’s In the Mouth of Madness (1994). You won’t want to miss it!!
The post Day 23: Candyman (1992) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis star in this one, and I’ll go ahead and preface my review by saying that I have not seen the original version from the ’50s. Therefore, this won’t be a comparison between the two, and any thoughts regarding the 1986 version won’t reflect positive or negative changes from the other.
With that said, I enjoyed this movie. Jeff Goldblum was a great choice to play Seth Brundle, as he fits the nerdy-but-lovable scientist mold quite well. I guess I’d never seen him in anything as early as this, though, because I had no idea his teeth were so weird. He must have had them fixed afterward, but in this movie they lend even more of a fly-like quality to pre-Brundlefly Goldblum.
Before we get into the nitty gritty, let’s do a quick synopsis:
Seth Brundle is working to pioneer a scientific concept that he believes will change the world as we know it: teleportation. He has managed to procure funding for his laboratory and experiments, but his benefactors don’t fully know what he is up to. He wants to perfect the process first, then blow the lid off the scientific community with his model of disintegration/reintegration. At first, Brundle is only able to transport inanimate objects within his pod system, but the tables turn when he meets saucy journalist, Veronica (Geena Davis). The two are instantly swept up in a whirlwind romance (complete with awkward comments about being “driven crazy” by flesh, which somehow provide Brundle with a Eureka moment as to how he might begin to teleport living matter).
Trouble brews in paradise, however, when inappropriate interferences from Veronica’s boss cause Brundle to become jealous and doubt her commitment. He attempts to drown his sorrows in champagne one night, and, awash in self-pity and lowered inhibitions, he steps into the teleportation pod himself. Unfortunately for Brundle, a fly also sneaks into the pod without his knowledge, and the computer system mistakenly fuses their DNA. As the rest of the film unfolds, strange physical and psychological changes start to overtake Brundle, and he becomes a horrifying hybrid between man and fly.
This movie has a much stronger first half than second; once Brundle plunges into the more gruesome aspects of fly fusion, things start to go off the rails for me. Personally, I wish he had either turned into MORE of a fly, or less of one. As it is, Brundle just looks like a gooey burn victim (with shades of The Thing from Fantastic Four). He does have the course insect hairs sprouting from various parts of his body, and he does use the disgusting acid-vomit thing to break down his “food”…but aside from that, there isn’t much to distinguish him as a fly. He doesn’t have wings, he doesn’t have kaleidoscope eyes–he just looks gross. Cronenberg IS known for embracing weirdness and going down questionable roads in his movies, so maybe that was what he was trying to do here. Who knows. Either way, I feel like the transformation scenes could have been a little more successful, and I really don’t like the Lifetime-esque, “I’m pregnant with a monster’s baby!” angle that they force into the ending. It’s just too much.
Overall, I’d call this a decent movie that could have been better. It makes me want to go back and watch Vincent Price’s original version, and see how the two stack up. I do think a lot of the elements Cronenberg employs in this version could/would not have been used in the ’50s, so I’m curious as to how they might differ. One way to find out!
Tomorrow, join me again as I review Bernard Rose’s Candyman (1992) to kick off the 1990s. If you haven’t already, be sure to go back and catch up on any 31 Days of Horror reviews that you might have missed, and keep on comin’ back for more as we head into the last leg of October!!
The post Day 22: The Fly (1986) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>We haven’t been using movie posters as the title graphic for our reviews, but this one was too amazingly awful to ignore. Does that strike you more as a horror film or a softcore porno you might catch late night on Cinemax? What are they marketing here exactly?!
“Love brought out the animal in her.”
Where to even begin??
You know, I was discussing this movie with Kelley, and I couldn’t quite figure out what I would say about it. She, of course, quickly realized that everything I was telling her sounded like an “ugly” movie. If you listen to our podcast, then you know an “ugly” movie often defies logic and is usually so bad it’s good, and this movie certainly qualifies. Damning praise, to be sure, but accurate none-the-less.
Let me back up a bit and give a synopsis taken directly from IMDB: “A young woman’s sexual awakening brings horror when she discovers her urges transform her into a monstrous black leopard.”
Much like the 1942 original, the plot does indeed revolve around a young woman named Irene who is worried that having sex will turn her into a leopard, but that’s about where the similarities end. The Irene from 1942 doesn’t want this to happen and is startled by it and how she might harm others. Irene from 1982 doesn’t seem all that concerned with it, seemingly aroused by the thought of it (despite being a virgin).
Early on, when she reconnects with her long lost brother (who also has this ability), he tries to sleep with her (telling her it’s the only cure) but instead settles on a local prostitute, who he promptly kills. This sets up the film’s basic rule that sex will transform you in a big cat.
So, this is essentially a werecat movie, according to my lovely wife, but with sex instead of a full moon.
Anyway, he’s captured (as a leopard) and gone for days and days, but Irene doesn’t seem all that concerned with this either. She never wonders where he went… which is curious since, you know, she’s living with him. But, apparently, once you become a leopard, you must kill again to become human, though you are still fully in control no matter which body you happen to be using. You are well aware of your actions.
So, these are the rules that are established, but they’re seemingly not enforced at all because Irene is able to become a leopard and stalk Alice and then transform back into a human before she has sex with anyone, so who knows? I’m very confused about the whole matter and it totally complicates the ending (which I won’t spoil), but I guess they can transform just by being horny??
By the way, that stalking scene is one of the few sequences that is directly inspired by the original. The 1942 version created a new kind of “jump scare”, where a loud, innocuous sound catches you off guard because of the suspense that led up to it. It’s actually a bus that makes the sound in the original, and this horror technique has since become known as the “Lewton Bus,” named after the film’s producer, Val Lewton.
This newer version, though, decides to have Alice go for a naked swim to throw in a little gratuitous nudity. Why not, right?
And speaking of nudity (how often do I get to say that?), Irene seems to spend the second half of the movie in an almost constant state of undress. Like I said, she doesn’t seem too concerned with the violent consequences of having sex, so it seems to change the message and tone of the original quite a bit. Maybe that works for you, but it doesn’t really for me. The film is beautifully shot, though, and there are some really intriguing moments, but it’s so corny and ridiculous and over-the-top that it’s hard to take seriously. That’s why I’m all over the place on this review.
But the one area I’m sure on is the ending. As I also mentioned, it doesn’t really gel with the rules laid out, but I find it awful for an entirely different reason. Much like the film’s poster, the cheese factor is incredibly high. David Bowie (!!) provides the film’s closing credit song, but the absurdly long freeze frame of the leopard that then roars just as Bowie yells “GASOLINE!!!!!” made me laugh out loud. It’s perhaps the film’s finest moment.
https://youtu.be/pBkmPZWH4KA?t=50s
Kelley will be reviewing David Cronenberg’s remake of The Fly tomorrow for Day 22, which is also the last 1980s movie on our list this year, so take a moment to be sad about that, and then come back by and check it out!!
The post Day 21: Cat People (1982) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>If you’ve spent much time with me, either in person or via my internet ramblings, you know that I am in a committed relationship with Classic Hollywood. We are not exclusive, per se, but let’s face it–I’m not really interested in seeing other people. Charles may take every opportunity to rib me about my love of Barbara Stanwyck (we even did an episode about her on The Good, The Bad, and the Podcast!) and other 1940s actresses of a similar ilk, but I’m #sorrynotsorry. I’m of the firm belief that they don’t make ’em like they used to, and practically no one validates that theory more than Lauren Bacall.
(I know this isn’t strictly related to The Fan, but bear with me. I’ll get to it.)
For whatever reason, Lauren Bacall doesn’t seem to be as well-remembered today as she deserves to be. She is in certain circles, of course, but I don’t know that she’s a household name like some others from her heyday are: Clark Gable, Jimmy Stewart, Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, etc. I would venture a guess that, even if you’re not a big classic movie person, you know who those people are. I don’t think a lot of people who aren’t into the classics know who Lauren Bacall is, and that’s a shame. I hope I’m wrong, but there it is.
If you haven’t seen any of her early movies, I want you to to take the next possible opportunity to watch To Have and Have Not (1944). It is one of my top 10 favorite movies of all time, and I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that it will blow your freakin’ mind. The dialogue is electric, and the chemistry between Bacall and Humphrey Bogart is the stuff of cinema legend. Take a look at the clip below, and you’ll see what I mean.
Just, wow. Bogey and Bacall went on to make 3 more movies together, all of which are great, but this one is by far my favorite. It even launched an off-screen relationship between the two stars, despite a staggering age difference (she was 19 when they met, and he was 45). Theirs was one of the few Hollywood romances that actually lasted, and they remained happily married until Bogart’s death in the late 1950s.
I suppose I’ll rein myself in now and get back to the matter at hand, but I do hope you’ll take my advice and check out some of Bacall’s other work. You won’t regret it.
So, The Fan. As you might be able to guess by this point, Lauren Bacall is my favorite thing about this movie. It’s really just an okay film, skippable in the grand scheme of things, but her performance lends enough weight to make it enjoyable if you do happen to come across it whilst channel-surfing.
Bacall stars as Sally Ross, a formerly-glamorous and still-handsome actress of 50ish, who is trying to expand her horizons by breaking onto the stage musical scene. While rehearsing for a new part, she begins to receive a steady flow of passionate letters from one Douglas Breen (Michael Biehn): her self-appointed “biggest fan”. At first, Ross isn’t even aware of the letters, because her secretary responds in her stead. The correspondence grows more and more unseemly, however, and in one racy letter Breen tells Ross that “soon they will be lovers” and he “has all the equipment to make her very, very happy”…ew.
Eventually, Breen becomes impossible to ignore. Mentally unbalanced, furious that Ross will not respond to him personally, and still convinced that they are in a mutual relationship ordained by Heaven itself, Breen commits a series of vicious attacks on Ross’s friends with a straight-razor. When she STILL will not give him the attention he craves, Breen focuses his violent wrath on Ross. If he can’t have her, neither will anybody else. DUN DUN DUN.
We’ve seen similar stories both on-screen and off. The Bodyguard, Selena, the murder of John Lennon…it’s pretty disturbing that this is the kind of thing that really happens. But despite a legitimately haunting premise, The Fan just isn’t quite as powerful as it could be. Bacall does her part, but the rest of the film is missing something–I’m not quite sure what. Even James Garner, who is usually excellent, is slightly one-dimensional here. I don’t know, I guess I just wanted more from this movie. It’s still fairly decent, but it’s better to go in with moderate to low expectations.
Tomorrow, Charles will be discussing the 1982 remake of Cat People, which should be interesting to say the least. Be sure to check that out, as well as the rest of our selections for 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 20: The Fan (1981) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>The Shining is based on the chilling novel by Stephen King, and it is yet another movie that has permeated pop culture to such an extent that it’s impossible not to have heard of it. Even if you haven’t seen the movie, there are certain unforgettable moments in it that I’ll wager have managed to filter into your subconscious. To name only a few:
“Heeere’s JOHNNY!”
“Red rum. Red rum. RED RUM.”
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
“Hello, Danny. Come and play with us. Come and play with us, Danny. Forever… and ever… and ever.”
To say that this movie is iconic would be an understatement. It’s one of the scariest horror films of all time, and also one of the best. In fact, it’s probably one of my top 20 movies in general, horror or otherwise, which is saying a great deal (I’m usually a weenie about truly scary films).
Jack Nicholson stars, in one of his best-remembered roles, as Jack Torrance–a man who is slowly overtaken by forces of unspeakable evil. The film begins with Torrance accepting a position as winter caretaker of the remote Overlook Hotel, where he hopes to find the peace he needs to work on his writing. For five snowy, isolated months, he and his family will be the hotel’s only inhabitants.
At first, the Torrances enjoy the solitary quietude of the majestic Colorado mountains, but Jack’s son Danny soon begins to be haunted by gruesome premonitions. As it turns out, the Overlook has an eerie, unsavory history (to say the least): one of the previous caretakers went mad with cabin fever, and chopped his family to pieces with an axe. Through Jack’s own gradual decline into mania, and Danny’s increasingly horrifying visions, we start to suspect that the hotel itself is evil; it envelops those who enter with a dark, malignant presence.
This movie will creep the bejeezus out of you. It’s a well-executed thriller, yes, but the creepiness is magnified times ten by the stunning visuals and profoundly jarring soundtrack. There isn’t much of a standard musical score to The Shining–instead we’re given something much more terrifying. Throughout the film, a cluster of bows scrape discordantly across their violin strings, and you’re left with the sensation that you might now know what it would sound like to hear someone’s fingernails rake down the walls of Hell. That might seem like an overly dramatic description, but the noise is REALLY FREAKIN’ UNSETTLING. It’s genius, really, because it puts the viewer immediately on edge, and doesn’t release you until the movie is over.
The one thing that I find a little silly about The Shining is minor, but worth pointing out: Shelley Duvall’s cartoonish performance as Wendy Torrance. In both appearance and general movement across the screen, she is a combination of Olive Oyl, Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, and a baby gazelle. I guess it kind of works for a horror movie, but it’s just odd to see when every other aspect of the film is so serious. Anyway, even Duvall’s goofy running and limp-wristed knife waving can’t tarnish this movie for me–it’s that good.
Watch it, if you haven’t already…just don’t do so alone.
Tomorrow, be sure to come back and check out my review of 1981’s The Fan, which features the always-classy star of my heart, Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep). Until then, it’s a great time to catch up on any 31 Days of Horror reviews that you might have missed! See you tomorrow.
The post Day 19: The Shining (1980) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I have no idea how this is possible, but up until now, I’d managed to go my entire life without ever having seen this movie. It’s not that I purposely avoided it, but I’m not a huge extraterrestrial/space movie person–I suppose I just never got around to it. Suffice it to say that I’m glad I finally did.
Y’all, Alien has 8.5 stars on IMDb, and it earns every single one of them. Do you know what else has 8.5 stars on IMDb? Casablanca. Citizen Kane. Sunset Boulevard. We’re talking some of the most famous, beloved movies of all time. It is unequivocally a classic, and I’d go so far as to say that it deserves to be seen by everyone. If, like me, you’ve been lazy about renting it thus far: Go do it. Right now. I’ll wait.
Alien centers around a 7-person crew aboard the space merchant vessel, Nostromo. At the film’s opening, the crew is prematurely awakened from cryo-sleep when the vessel responds to an unknown transmission from a nearby moon. The transmission is automatically perceived as a distress call, and despite some dissension within the ranks about the proper protocol, Nostromo lands on the moon to investigate and lend aid. During exploration of the moon’s surface, the team encounters a nest of mysterious alien eggs, one of which spontaneously bursts open. The life-form within the burst egg proceeds to penetrate crewman Kane’s helmet, and attaches itself to his face…shudder.
Ellen Ripley, warrant officer of the Nostromo, is deeply concerned about bringing Kane back aboard the spacecraft in his current, compromised state, but the crew defy her orders and bring him aboard anyway (alien still attached to his face and all). After a brief comatose period, Kane ultimately awakens and the creature is nowhere to be found–much to the crew’s dismay. They eventually find the body of the crab-like alien, believing it dead; what they don’t realize, however, is that its life cycle has only just begun.
This movie is just fantastic. The practical effects are amazing, as is the acting from all parties involved. This was Sigourney Weaver’s first leading role, and it’s easy to see why it catapulted her into stardom. Not only did it bring Weaver personal acclaim, but her portrayal of Ripley challenged traditional gender roles in both science fiction and horror genres for years to come. Ripley is not a slinky seductress or a boring do-nothing; she doesn’t wear spandex or makeup, and she doesn’t die immediately following a sexy interlude with her hardier male co-star. In fact, she doesn’t even HAVE any sexy interludes in this movie. It’s not what she’s about. Unlike so many other leading ladies of Sci-fi and horror, she’s not defined by the man she’s helping–she is her own boss, damnit, and she gets things done. Ripley isn’t a simpering yes-woman, and at times she can be rude and abrasive. But, more importantly, she’s a PERSON: a real one. I love when movies give us leads who are flawed as well as heroic; it just rings truer for me. Perhaps this is part of the reason why the American Film Institute named Ripley the 8th greatest hero of all time. Her character feels authentic, and I stand in awe of that even after the movie is over.
As I said before: if you haven’t already seen this film, please, please seek it out. It’s heart-pounding suspense at its best, and I was quite literally on the edge of my seat for the entire second half of the movie (not to mention the goosebumps that refused to recede into my flesh until the credits finished rolling). You can find it on Netflix DVD and Amazon Video, and you will absolutely not be sorry. If nothing else, you’ll feel a little more a part of pop culture, and you’ll finally get about a zillion subsequent TV and movie references. Who can put a price on that?
Tomorrow, join me again as I review Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 classic, The Shining. I have a feeling many of you have already seen this one, so be sure to come back and see if our thoughts line up on Day 19, as well as the rest of our 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 18: Alien (1979) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Now, I suspect many of you aren’t familiar with the “Giallo” style. To be honest, I wasn’t either. But it seemed that everytime I began doing serious research into horror film history, certain movies kept popping up again and again. Suspiria is one of those films, as well as Blood and Black Lace and Deep Red.
And they’re all attributed to this Italian “Giallo” genre.
So, what were these films from Italy? And why are they constantly cited?
Well, “giallo” means “yellow” in Italian, and it refers to the color of the cover of certain crime / mystery paperback novels in Italy. These novels often shared many similar elements with these “giallo” movies, including masked killers and a certain amount of eroticism, even if the stories weren’t directly adapted into the movies. The movies themselves were usually quite gory, or at least shockingly violent, and they had a really beautiful cinematic style which included bold color palettes and creative camerawork. The music often felt disorientating because it was often juxtaposed with what was occurring on screen, meaning it might have had happy or cheerful music playing while someone was being stabbed to death. But they almost always had a mysterious killer attacking people one-by-one, and it was often women that were being attacked while particularly vulnerable (nude, for example). If that sounds familiar, it’s because these movies heavily inspired the American “slasher” film genre, in particular films like Halloween and Friday the 13th.
The plot for Deep Red falls right in line with “Giallo” films. An English musician in Italy witnesses the gruesome murder pf a clairvoyant woman (who previously had visions of the murderer) one night while he’s out with his friend. He teams up with a reporter to try and figure out who the killer is, and in doing so, the killer begins to go after both of them, while also continuing on a murder spree. Where will this murderer strike next? And can anything be done before it’s too late?
I have to say, I REALLY enjoyed this movie.
My wife and I watched it with our friend Toby, and shortly into the movie, he proclaimed it was literally one of the worst movies he’s ever seen (in his best Chris Traeger impression, no less).
Granted, it does take a while to get into it, and the music is very odd (even if it is popular) but I flat-out disagree with him.
There are moments of pure brilliance here, including some fantastic camera movements. For instance, in one particularly wide shot, we are watching a couple discuss details of a murder that had just occurred in the house they’re in. It’s all in one long take, and at the conclusion of the conversation, the lady, who is at the end of the hallway, looks up in our direction right at the camera. The camera quickly moves to the left to duck out of her view, and at that moment we realize that we have been staring through the eyes of (presumably) the killer the entire conversation. It literally gives me chills just thinking about it.
Another moment like that? When a man is playing piano at home by himself and hears someone in the other room. As he knows the killer has been after him, he continues to play while also quietly reaching for an object to hopefully defend himself. The phone suddenly goes off and he rushes to the bedroom door to slam it shut. Just as he does so, he hears the killer whispering to him from the other room that he’ll kill him another time. Eeeesh!!!
I also love that the movie messes with us. It’s revealed in a flashback that the movie actually showed us who the killer was immediately after the first murder. Since this whole thing plays out like a whodunnit (complete with a twist ending), having seen the killer’s face that early would have instantly given it away, but somehow, this movie did just that and we were none-the-wiser. I even watched it again to see if it was lying to us during that flashback, but sure enough, the killer is actually revealed and quite clearly, too. That’s confident filmmaking at its finest.
Then there’s the whole aspect of the mechanical doll that is used as a distraction. It is very clearly the inspiration for the similar device in Saw and it was amazing to see it here, nearly 30 years earlier.
So, absolutely check out this movie as well as the other “Giallo” films. They’re worth your time, especially if you already enjoy slasher movies.
On a complete side note: Why do the background extras stand perfectly still in certain scenes during Deep Red? Is there any significance to that? Because it can be quite distracting at times (and is another reason Toby didn’t like this movie). There’s even a bar in the background of one shot that resembles that Nighthawks painting by Edward Hopper… and again, the extras are all completely and eerily frozen.
Tomorrow, Kelley will be reviewing Ridley Scott’s Alien so you’ll want to be here for that as she closes out the 1970s!!
The post Day 17: Deep Red (1975) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>It’s a modern-day take on the tale of Hansel and Gretel, and Shelley Winters stars as the titular Auntie Roo. Man, poor Shelley Winters. Despite a colorful, decades-long career and numerous Oscar nominations/wins, she never seems to get to play somebody whom you actually like. To me, Winters will forever be the frumpy sad-sack, Alice Tripp, getting kinda-sorta-deservingly drowned by Montgomery Clift in A Place in the Sun. Terrible, I know, but the lady does odious, second-string broads pretty darn well. She plays a kooky weirdo yet again in Auntie Roo, although I will say that she’s much more palatable than usual here.
Something I found very interesting about the role of Rosie Forrest (aka Auntie Roo) in this movie is that she doesn’t quite fit the typical mold for Hag Horror. Yes, Ms. Winters is a formerly glamorous starlet who has been relegated to the Hollywood B Team for the unthinkable crime of aging (although she’s still not very old here, just a bit less physically fabulous), BUT the categorization of the “hags” in these films usually tilts one of two ways: A. The Predatory Older Woman, or B. The Older Woman in Peril. Sometimes, both categories will be filled in the same movie (What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte), but such an occurrence is rare. Anyway, in Auntie Roo, the character of Mrs. Forrest does not really fall in either camp. She never actually intends the children any harm–they just THINK she does. Granted, she has some severe mental hangups about the death of her daughter that she absolutely needs to seek therapy for. But as far as being a Predatory Older Woman…I don’t think so.
Alas, I’m getting ahead of myself again. Synopsis time!
Every year, the widowed Mrs. Rosie Forrest hosts a lavish, lovely Christmas party at her mansion for a select group of neighborhood orphans. This particular year, a sweet and sandy-haired brother and sister (Christopher and Katy Coombs) tag along to the party, despite not being selected by their chilly headmistress to attend. Mrs. Forrest, however, is delighted by their courtly manners and innocent presence. She urges them to stay, and to call her “Auntie Roo”. She even ends up taking a particular shine to Katy, who reminds her of her own deceased daughter (also named Katharine).
As the story unfolds, we learn that the late Katharine Forrest died in a heart wrenching accident while sliding down the bannister–an accident from which Auntie Roo has never recovered. We also learn that Roo regularly “communicates” with Katharine in the form of seances, as well as singing lullabies to her daughter’s decayed corpse every night in the nursery. Eesh. There is even a scene towards the end of the movie where Roo lovingly strokes the powdery, skeletal face, only to have it disintegrate into ash between her fingers. Talk about being scarred for life.
The central conflict of the movie is that Roo (a little too tenaciously, I’ll admit) wants to adopt the orphaned Katy and keep her at the mansion as a replacement for the daughter she lost. Unfortunately for Roo, Katy’s brother Christopher is part of the deal, and he is wise to her kidnap-flavored plans (and all the creepy, corpse-related moments he has witnessed while spying on her). He and Katy manage to escape Forrest Grange unharmed, but (*spoiler alert, as indicated by the movie’s title*) the same cannot be said for Auntie Roo.
The main problem with conflating this movie with Hansel and Gretel is that a direct comparison is rather misleading. In this story, Roo is an extremely sympathetic character overall. Her actions are misinterpreted by the children (Christopher, especially), therefore they see her as a force of evil when she is really not. Unlike in the original Hansel and Gretel tale, Roo isn’t a crazy, malevolent witch who wants to snatch up wayward children in order to eat them for supper. She genuinely loves kids. She is sad, she is unbearably lonely, she is perhaps mentally unstable…but never ill-intentioned. It’s a pretty tragic story when you get right down to it, and one that may even have a darker ending than the original fairy tale.
I think I would give this one a solid B grade. Shelley Winters’ theatrics can be a little much at times, but on the whole it’s an interesting spin on a classic story, with decent scares and legitimate suspense. You can find Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? available to stream on Amazon Video–give it a chance and let me know what you think!
Tomorrow, Charles will continue our exploration of the ’70s with a review on 1975’s Deep Red. Be sure to come back to check it out, along with the rest of this month’s reviews for 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 16: Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? (1972) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>First of all, this is a weird, weird movie. There is so much symbolism, and so much psychological commentary, that it leaves the viewer unsure how to separate the real from the imagined. Even after watching, I still don’t know which aspects were exclusively happening inside the main character’s mind, and which aspects legitimately occurred. I’m certain that this is intentional on the part of Mr. Polanski, but it is a bit of a negative as well as a positive for me, personally.
The film mainly revolves around the inner anguish of innocently sensual Carol LeDoux. Carol is played by Catherine Denueve, who turns in a haunting performance as the sexually confused young woman. Something ugly in Carol’s past has clearly made her abhor men (and the idea of sex that they inherently represent), but we are not given any further insight as to the exact origins of her anxiety. Be that as it may, Carol is quite attractive (albeit a little childlike), so she finds herself fending off men’s advances at practically every turn. These repeated romantic stressors, coupled with the departure of her sister (and her sister’s lover, who is a completely separate source of consternation to Carol altogether), cause her to slowly lose her grip on reality and descend into homicidal madness. It is unsettling, to say the least.
Right from the opening credit sequence, Polanski builds an atmosphere of tense expectation– an unshakeable, claustrophobic feeling that something horrifying is about to happen. He never lets that feeling slip, either. The entire hour and forty plus minutes of the film are taut, well-paced, and highly suspenseful (even if a little confusing at times). Also contributing to the sense of anticipatory horror are the subtle, eerie sounds happening in the background of every scene: flies buzzing around the raw rabbit that Carol leaves out in the kitchen; the incessantly ticking clock; water slowly dripping from the faucet; the list goes on.
Repulsion is an extremely artistic movie, and very European in tone. The soundtrack, the heavy French accents of the two leading ladies, and the crisp black and white all contribute to the overall feeling that you’re watching a foreign film. Even the vacancy of Catherine Denueve’s Carol is reminiscent of a sad and beautiful mime. All that’s missing is a bicycle, a black turtleneck sweater, and moonlit shots of the Champs-Elysses. It may sound silly, but I actually favor these technical and mood-related aspects of the film over the story itself. I believe there is such a thing as trying too hard to make a movie open to interpretation, and in my opinion, that’s what Polanski was guilty of here.
Tomorrow, please join me again as we begin the 1970s with another entry from the “hag horror” genre: Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? (1971). Thanks for reading, and keep on comin’ back for more 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 15: Repulsion (1965) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>If you’re a listener of our podcast, then you’ll recall we’ve done an episode over Bette Davis (who is the star of this movie) and an episode over Hag Horror (which is the genre of this movie). Both of those episodes were picked by Kelley, so she’s clearly a fan. She also didn’t pick this movie as her “good” choice for that Hag Horror episode; instead, she chose What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, which is quite surprising to me because Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte is far and away the better film, even if the two are very, very similar.
Oddly enough, though, Kelley wasn’t the one who added this movie to our list this year. I was, and I didn’t include it to appease or amuse Kelley, either. I added it because years ago, my good friend Buzz tried to get me and my wife to watch it as his house late one night. Having never heard of it, I was skeptical but I will pretty much watch any movie anytime, so I agreed. After the opening scene, which is quite shocking and horrific, I was hooked. My wife, however, is not a night person, and neither is Buzz, so both fell asleep not too far into the movie. I decided I would try and finish it with them later, only later never really happened. Every time it seems we’re actually going to meet up to watch it, we end up doing something else or we get sidetracked or life happens or whatever. But I take 31 Days of Horror seriously, and I knew if it was on the list, I would watch it no-matter-what, even if that meant without Buzz, and unfortunately, that’s exactly what it meant. I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be, but I still owe it to him for turning me on to this film (and I suppose for having good taste in movies in general), but I digress.
The plot revolves around a man named John who is cheating on his wife with Charlotte in 1927 Louisiana. The two plan to elope after a lavish party, but when Charlotte’s father gets wind of their plan, he is furious and privately tells John he must call it off. John reluctantly does so, and Charlotte does not take it well. The next thing he knows, he’s being attacked with a butcher knife and loses a hand… as well as his head (this is that shocking thing I mentioned earlier). Charlotte returns to the party all covered in blood, and the people there freak out, naturally. Flash forward to 1964, and the tale has become somewhat of an urban legend. Charlotte nows lives alone as a recluse at her father’s house (where the murder occurred) and except for her housekeeper Velma, she hardly ever sees anyone. Complications arise because it seems there’s a road that needs to be built where the house stands, and she apparently has no say in the matter. The whole place will be torn down, forcing her to find somewhere else to live and start fresh, though that is the exact opposite of what she wants… mostly because she has never recovered from that horrible night. And when her cousin Miriam shows up to help with the whole situation, Charlotte begins to lose touch with reality, seeing strange visions around the house.
That may not sound much like What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, but the two movies both revolve around a horrific accident that took places years earlier, leaving the title character (played by Bette Davis in both films) isolated and insane in her father’s house. They both involve a housekeeper who learns too much and eventually pays the price for it. They both play out as sort of a whodunnit with a twist ending that changes our perception of said title character. And they both nearly starred Bette Davis and Joan Crawford; in fact, Joan Crawford was originally cast to play the part of Miriam, and even shot several scenes, but for various reasons (including an illness), she was replaced with Olivia de Havilland.
I think this movie works better because Bette Davis’ Charlotte character is much more sympathetic than her character of Jane in Baby Jane, where she essentially played the villain. She may be crazy, but we in the audience knowd where she’s coming from and can feel her pain. She lost the love of her life and we’re able to go along with her spooky visions of him because we understand her sorrow. I really enjoyed her performance overall and don’t feel like she hit a wrong note, which is quite an accomplishment considering all of the crazy things going on.
Also, I think the effects are quite good, and seeing a severed hand on the floor, and a decapitated head rolling down the stairs, really caught me off guard. The film opens on that murder sequence and is able to maintain its creepiness throughout.
The one thing I did not like was Agnes Moorehead as her housekeeper. I think she’s way too over-the-top to be taken seriously, especially with her put on New Orleans accent. I may be in the minority, though, because she was nominated for an Academy Award for this!! It reminds of me of Anne Ramsey being nominated for Throw Momma from the Train. Both terrible performances that were somehow praised at the time. I suppose I’ll never understand.
For tomorrow, Kelley will close out the 1960s with her review of Roman Polanski’s Repulsion!!
The post Day 14: Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Here’s the thing about House of Usher, though: it somehow manages to both exceed and fall short of my expectations. Vincent Price is, of course, fantastic as the sinister and hyper-sensitive Roderick Usher– he’s really the main reason to watch this movie. Everyone else…meh. Myrna Fahey as Madeline Usher simply isn’t given enough to do. Her storyline is arguably the most important, but since the tale is largely told from the perspective of her fiancé, she doesn’t even have that many lines. I don’t think she has more than two facial expressions during the first hour of the movie, either (which isn’t a knock on Fahey’s acting, it’s just that for the first few acts, her on-screen purpose seems solely to be embodying a delicate combination of loveliness and rue). Mark Damon, doing his best Ricky Nelson imitation, does have the bee-stung lips and ruffled shirt going on, but even his stylish pompadour and competent axe-wielding prove no match for the evil (and structural deficiency) of the house of Usher.
I’ll keep the synopsis short and sweet: Philip Winthrop (Damon) rides all the way from Boston on horseback to spend time with his lady love, Madeline Usher (Fahey). He has never been to her estate before, and upon entering, finds himself immediately accosted by shrouds of gloom and a melodramatic, lute-playing future brother-in-law, Roderick Usher (Price). After much pessimistic hemming and hawing, Usher explains to Winthrop that both he and Madeline are under a terrible family curse, and will be dying any moment now. Their family tree, he intones, contains over 200 years of bad apples that have resulted in some very poor Usher karma indeed. Winthrop is naturally skeptical of this morbid mysticism, but can’t resist being unnerved by the COMPLETELY TERRIFYING paintings in the family portrait gallery. Seriously, I do not know who was tripping on what when these were painted, but wow. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight.
Winthrop understandably tries to remove Madeline from the house as soon as possible, but an argument with Roderick over their departure causes her to descend into a catatonic state. Roderick believes her dead (or does he?), so he quickly and efficiently buries her while still alive (!!) in the family crypt. Once Winthrop discovers this, the rest of the movie is actually quite suspenseful as he frantically tries to find and free Madeline from her sealed coffin. The scares in this film are largely confined to the latter half, but when they deliver, they deliver big-time.
House of Usher‘s visuals remind me a bit of Francis Ford Coppola’s 1992 take on Bram Stoker’s Dracula— which is to say that the colors are hyper-saturated times ten, and are practically dripping off the screen. Price wears quite possibly the reddest overcoat ever imagined by man, and everything down to the tiniest minutia seems hellbent on singeing your retinas. It’s kind of cool, but also…ouch.
Overall, this film is good but not great. It’s an important entry in Vincent Price’s filmography, and demonstrates why he is so great in classic villainous roles such as these…but does anyone who doesn’t care about Vincent Price really NEED to see it? No, probably not. It’s entertaining, and the last 20 minutes are actually pretty freaky, but it’s a very stylized film that I don’t know will necessarily appeal to all audiences. In other words, if you are already a fan of classic horror, Vincent Price, or the macabre writings of Edgar Allan Poe (or if you’re just a film nerd like we are here at ItsJustAwesome.com), there are plenty of things to enjoy and appreciate about House of Usher. If you’re a newbie looking to get into the genre, however, I do not recommend this as your gateway movie.
Tomorrow, Charles will be reviewing one of my favorite “hag horror” flicks: Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964). The movie boasts a powerhouse cast in Bette Davis (All About Eve, Now Voyager), Olivia de Havilland (Gone With the Wind, The Heiress), and Joseph Cotten (Citizen Kane, The Third Man). You definitely don’t want to miss this one, so be sure to join us again tomorrow for more 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 13: House of Usher (1960) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>There is still a certain B-movie feel to it (the premise is that a gigantic tarantula is terrorizing the town, after all), but for the most part it succeeds where many other monster movies of this era fail. It doesn’t go over the top with kooky, animatronic creatures and silly sound effects, and the movie is supported at its core by genuinely good storytelling.
Tarantula even features a strong, intelligent leading lady in Mara Corday, who, while beautiful, does things to further the plot beyond clutching her graceful cheekbones and shrieking. Imagine that!
Let me back up a bit, though, and give you a synopsis. Our film starts out once again in the Arizona desert– clearly, the most hip-happening place in the ’50s for mysterious, unexplainable phenomena. Young and ever-so-slightly oily Dr. Matt Hastings (John Agar) is urgently summoned to the Sheriff’s office to weigh in on the death of a horribly deformed, roadside John Doe. The Sheriff believes the body to be that of missing scientist Eric Jacobs, but it’s nearly impossible to confirm due to the twisted, diseased state of the face. Dr. Hastings is at a loss for answers, and it’s only through eventual confirmation from another well-known country doctor, Dr. Deemer, that they can positively ID the body as Jacobs. Deemer seems to be harboring secrets, but he assures Dr. Hastings that the affliction which befell Dr. Jacobs was nothing more sinister than acromegaly (even though Hastings knows acromegaly is incredibly rare, and usually takes years to advance to this level, not days).
As it turns out, Dr. Deemer and Dr. Jacobs were research partners at a remote laboratory 20 miles into the desert. Unbeknownst to the townspeople, they were conducting experimental research into human and animal growth hormones as a way to increase the world’s food supply. It’s almost like the inverse of an egomaniacal Bond villain scheme…and even though it will obviously never work, you have to applaud them for trying. Unfortunately, during a struggle at the lab after Jacobs’ death, a fire breaks out and many of the animal test subjects are compromised. Among these, a tarantula (one of the more advanced-stage subjects of the experiment) is able to escape the lab and flee into the desert, where it continues to grow ever larger and more menacing.
I appreciate that the filmmakers didn’t try to BUILD a giant tarantula out of robotics or claymation or papier mache or whatever, but instead used trick photography to make a regular-sized tarantula look huge on the set. It makes the film hold up much better over time. I also thought there was a perfect number of tarantula shots throughout the film–just enough to build suspense and see that it was growing larger and larger (and more bloodthirsty), but not straight-up 80 minutes of bombs going off and the tarantula running amok through the city. It’s a movie largely focused on the events leading up to, and in the wake of, the escape of the giant spider, with occasional cuts to the desert to see what the big guy is up to. I like this approach a lot, and tip my hat to the director for making the call.
Okay, let’s talk about Mara Corday’s character for a moment. Corday plays the sultry female scientist, Stephanie “Steve” Clayton, and her performance is fantastic! She arrives on the scene by way of a streetcar named Desire (thanks, Carol Burnett!), and proceeds to wow her male counterparts with the manly size of her brain. There are several little quips from Drs. Hastings and Deemer at first (“Give women the vote and what do you get? Lady scientists.”), but Steve remains unfazed. She is cool, collected, and well-read; it doesn’t take long for her to win the complete professional confidence of Dr. Deemer. Not only does Steve become an essential part of Deemer’s laboratory operations, but she is also Hastings’ girl Friday when it comes to unraveling the mystery of the tarantula. She seems to be channeling real-life Hedy Lamarr here, and I love it.
This movie is definitely worth checking out, and you can do so via Netflix DVD. I’d say it’s among the better-done monster movies of the decade, carried by an interesting (if fantastic) plot, solid acting, and progressive female roles. Let me know in the comments below whether you agree or disagree!
Tomorrow, join me again as I review our first movie of the 1960s: House of Usher, starring Vincent Price. I hope you’ve been enjoying our 31 Days of Horror series so far, and that you’ll continue to come back for more during the rest of October!
The post Day 12: Tarantula (1955) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Godzilla has remained popular throughout the years, what with the recent Gareth Edwards version and the new Shin Godzilla, so it’s hard to imagine that there’s many of you out there that don’t know the plot, but here’s a synopsis anyway: A Japanese ship suddenly goes missing, and then another one as well. Japanese Authorities are baffled until they realize that the ships are actually being destroyed by a giant radioactive dinosaur from the Jurassic Period who has been brought to life by atomic bomb testing. This dinosaur, Gojira / Godzilla (which, I guess, are used interchangeably??), soon begins to wreak havoc on Japan, and the military struggles to come up with a solution.
Professor Yamane wants to take a more scientific approach and observe Godzilla instead of killing him. He wants to learn everything about this creature (especially the radioactive bit) even at the expense of many more people dying. Meanwhile, Navy man Hideto Ogato thinks they should defeat Godzilla by any means necessary. He also wants to marry Yamane’s daughter, Emiko, but when he begins to bring it up with Yamane, the two get in a huge argument and nothing is resolved. The whole situation looks hopeless, and after a few different attempts by the military to destroy him, it seems Godzilla is unstoppable. It turns out, however, that Dr. Serizawa (with whom Emiko is betrothed) actually has an experimental device that could eliminate Godzilla once-and-for-all, but he doesn’t want to use it for fear that it would be used to harm people after Godzilla is defeated.
This is the part of the movie that intrigued me the most. Take a step back for a second, and look at what Godzilla represents: The consequences of nuclear fallout in a country that, less than a decade earlier, had seen first hand just what an atomic bomb could do. Dr. Serizawa’s reluctance to use a weapon, even to save his own country, arguably sounds like a critique of the United States (specifically President Harry Truman) and it raises the question: Does the end ever justify the means? Ultimately, in this movie, Serizawa figures out a way to defeat Godzilla and keep others from using his weapon again by sacrificing himself, but that also has strong implications and raises some other questions (Namely: Why couldn’t his device be remotely detonated??). Professor Yamane even gives a speech about it in the closing lines of the film, ominously warning about using atomic bombs to create other Godzilla monsters. It’s brilliantly intriguing and philosophical at the same time without really offering up a good answer. Maybe there isn’t one?
And this is all why I think believe Gojira is a better film than the American version. That movie stripped away most of the atomic bomb implications and focused more on the monster / creature feature aspects. It also dubbed over many of the original Japanese actors, but very inconsistently because sometimes they’re dubbed in English and sometimes they’re subtitled while speaking Japanese. It’s a strange blend. So, I would skip that one (assuming you haven’t already seen it) and seek this one out. It’s a gem of a movie with a message that still resonates today.
It’s Day 12 tomorrow and Kelley will be reviewing Tarantula, so be sure to come back and check it out!!
The post Day 11: Gojira (1954) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I’m sorry to say it, but I really didn’t enjoy this movie very much. It is a combination of all the worst aspects of ’50s movies: it’s supremely cheesy, xenophobic, flimsy in plot, and just plain boring. It isn’t horrible, or even BAD, necessarily…but it definitely does not stand the test of time. I fell asleep at least twice while watching, and then had to rewind to be sure I hadn’t missed anything. Spoiler alert: I hadn’t.
It might be fun to see with friends at the drive-in for a cult movie night or something, but ultimately It Came From Outer Space is just another goofy alien flick. Or, to put it another way, it’s like a mashup of all the least popular episodes of Star Trek, The Twilight Zone, and The Andy Griffith Show. Read into that what you will.
The movie begins with young couple John Putnam (Carlson) and Ellen Fields (Rush) enjoying a candlelit dinner at their home in Arizona, making carefree jokes about living together “in sin”. They go out onto the terrace for a little late-night stargazing (Putnam, as an amateur astronomer, has a massive telescope set up there), when they see what they believe to be a meteor streaking across the sky. It crashes into the desert nearby, and the two lovebirds race to the scene of the collision. John skitters down into the bowels of the crater to get a closer look (casting aside the frantic remonstrations of schoolteacher Ellen), and what he sees astonishes him. It’s not a meteor at all, but instead an alien spacecraft! Naturally, no one believes him–not even Ellen at first.
Putnam butts heads with Sheriff Matt Warren (who is clearly in love with Ellen as well) time and time again over his theories regarding the crash, to no avail. Even after Putnam has seen and talked with the aliens (which takes a ridiculously long time to occur), Sheriff Warren and the townspeople refuse to believe in their existence. It’s a classic mob mentality situation–they don’t believe in the aliens until they suddenly do, and once they do, they charge in with guns literally blazing, despite Putnam earnestly beseeching them to do the opposite. The filmmakers are pretty heavy-handed with the “humans fear that which they do not understand” metaphor, and, while true, it is incredibly frustrating to watch.
The aliens themselves are pretty hilarious-looking, though. They’re kind of these amorphous blob shapes, with a long, protruding eyeball and…hair? It’s extremely bizarre, and makes me appreciate the lack of screen time they have in their “true” form. I think the sight is intended to be frighteningly grotesque (even the stoic Putnam cheesily recoils in horror), but it’s just funny to me. The aliens also leave a glittering, slug-like trail (reminiscent of bedazzled jeans) everywhere they go, which is pretty much a drinking game waiting to happen. Every time you hear the theremin accompany a slow camera pan along the bedazzled alien sludge, finish your drink. See you in the E.R.
Again, this movie could be worth checking out under the right circumstances…as long as those circumstances involve friends, the ability to throw popcorn at the screen, and a setting where nobody is taking things too seriously. Otherwise, I do not suggest you rent this movie on a Saturday night, hoping for a good time. If you’re a contrarian and want to prove me wrong, however, you can find it available for streaming on Amazon Video and Apple TV.
Tomorrow, Charles will be continuing our journey through 1950s horror with 1954’s Gojira. Stay tuned for this and all the rest of our October reviews during the 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 10: It Came From Outer Space (1953) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I’m sure it would pain Mark to know this, but I must confess that I have never read the book by Oscar Wilde.
I’m sure it would also pain Kelley to know this, but I must confess that I have never seen any cinematic adaptation of it, of which there have been quite a few.
Now, that doesn’t mean I’m completely ignorant of the subject. This particular piece of literature has become so ingrained in pop culture that it was even used a punch line to insult Meg on Family Guy (When she asks how she looks in her new glasses, Stewie tells her, “In an attic somewhere, there’s a portrait of you getting prettier.”) but it does mean that right upfront, you should know that I have no idea this version compares to the book or if it’s better or worse than other Dorian Gray movie, but having said all of that, I loved this movie. That’s all longwinded to be sure, but yes, I really did love this movie.
So, for those that don’t know the plot, it is set in London during the late 1800s, and is about a young man named Dorian Gray (played by Hurd Hatfield) who is having his portrait done. He muses that he wishes his portrait could age instead of him, and thanks to an Egyptian cat sculpture, Gray’s wish comes true. But this is a horror film, after all, so there has to be a catch, right? Of course there does!! And this particular catch is that Gray’s inner ugliness will be exposed through the portrait itself, as the portrait changes over time instead of Gray, who completely stops aging. Those around him find this disconcerting to say the least, and it ultimately isolates him and drives him mad.
Lord Henry Wotton (George Sanders, who I always best remember as the voice of Shere Kahn in The Jungle Book) plays a sort of devilish character who talks Gray into living life to the fullest and giving in to his wildest dreams and desires. It’s through Lord Wotton’s advice that Gray passes on the opportunity to be with Sibyl Vane (a VERY young Angela Lansbury), a singer that he falls in love with early on. His rejection causes her to commit suicide, and this is the point of no return for Mr. Gray. After that, it’s vague as to what exactly he does that is so horrible in his life (aside from the onscreen murder, of course), but I rather like that aspect of the story. It’s almost a mirror to the audience, asking us to imagine our worst qualities and our worst actions and what it would be like to have a painting displaying them for all the world to see. Perhaps you’d cover it up just as he does, but would that ever be enough? It still exists. The psychosis on display feels gradual and thus, natural. It’s handled extremely well.
I also particularly love the cinematography of this film. It’s a black and white film, but a select few shots of the portrait are in full technicolor and they are GORGEOUS!! They’re also extremely jarring, which is perfect for a horror movie, and can be used to shocking effect in what otherwise might have fallen flat. It also helps that the portrait itself is growing more and more hideous each time it is revealed.
But more than just the few color inserts, I enjoyed the stylized cinematography during the first murder scene, with the hanging light swinging violently, creating intense chaos in a dance of light and shadows on the walls. It’s beautiful and creepy and I love it.
And that encapsulates my feelings about this movie. If you haven’t seen it, go check it out!!
So I’m closing out the 1940s, but for Day 10 tomorrow, Kelley will be reviewing the 1953 movie It Came from Outer Space, so come on by and check it out!!
The post Day 9: The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>The Uninvited is an interesting film to review, because it isn’t quite what I was expecting. It is eerie and suspenseful, yes, but it is also…charming? It’s unlike any horror movie I’ve ever seen, in that it fluctuates between the serious and the lighthearted at the drop of a hat. More importantly, it does this successfully. I admit, I’m still scratching my head over it a little bit. It’s one of those things that feels like it shouldn’t work, but somehow it does.
The film begins with composer Rick Fitzpatrick (Milland) and his sister Pamela (Hussey) vacationing together on the Cornish coast. They are frolicking happily up and down the rocky shore, when suddenly they find themselves chasing after their terrier into an abandoned seaside mansion. As they take in the majesty of the home’s interior, Pamela is immediately starstruck. She suggests to Rick on a whim that they pool their savings and buy the place–after all, you’re not embracing the spontaneity of life until you leave everything you know behind and spend your last cent on an immense gothic manor that you’ve been inside for five minutes. It does seem little odd that an adult (but still in their prime) brother and sister would consider buying a house together, but since it isn’t all that uncommon in these old movies, I guess I’ll let it go without further comment.
Anyway, they purchase the mansion from the elderly Commander Beech and his granddaughter, Stella, and immediately set about making it their own. There are rumors in town about the home being haunted (and Commander Beech is most definitely keeping secrets to himself), but Rick pooh-poohs that notion and explains it away as idle fantasy. It doesn’t take long, however, for the strange “disturbances” to become impossible to ignore/rationalize. In the dead of night, they hear the melancholy strains of a woman sobbing, and goosebumps prickle my arms when Pamela notes that “it comes from everywhere…and nowhere.” There are other disturbances as well, particularly in the upstairs studio: a cold, pervasive dampness to the air; flickering candles; a feeling of unshakable sadness; there are even several appearances by a ghostly, glowing source of light that is terrifying in its shapelessness. The movie does an excellent job of keeping the paranormal indicators subdued–it makes for a much more frightening and believable atmosphere.
The Uninvited is a very well-paced film, and the reasons for the haunting (as well as their connection to the sweet, young ingenue, Stella) unfold in an intriguing fashion that will keep you guessing. There are some legitimately hair-raising moments (including a staged seance that turns out to be not-so-fake after all), but not so many that it will keep you up at night. This is my favorite kind of scary movie, truth be told: it’s spooky while you’re watching it, but the horror factor is tempered by the excellent story-telling and subtle romantic sub-plot.
Speaking of the romantic sub-plot, it’s hard not to be charmed by Gail Russell’s dewey, school-girl portrayal of Stella, who obviously pictures herself sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, with the much older Ray Milland. They definitely pulled a Rear Window here (see also: To Catch a Thief), because Milland has to be at least 15, maybe 20, years older than Russell. He almost seems more appropriately-aged to be her father, but oh well. It’s still cute.
Overall, I would give The Uninvited two thumbs up. I watched it on Netflix DVD (Netflix’s DVD game is apparently pretty strong–almost all of these old, slightly obscure films can be found there!), but now I may just have to go out and purchase my own DVD copy of this one. I’d love for you to check it out and let me know if you feel the same!
Tomorrow, Charles will be reviewing The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945), starring Hurd Hatfield and the inimitable George Sanders. Be sure to come back for this and other juicy reviews during the rest of our 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 8: The Uninvited (1944) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>Man, Day 7 already. If you’ve been following along with us this month, we appreciate it so much! Charles and I have had a blast sharing these reviews with you so far, and hope you’re enjoying them as well. Today we’re venturing into the 1940s (my jam!), and the first movie on the docket is 1941’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
This is one of those stories that is so much a part of popular culture that it barely requires a synopsis anymore (although of course I will give you one, because, hey, that’s what we do!). The Robert Louis Stevenson classic has seen more than its share of movie adaptations over the years, but this 1941 Spencer Tracy gem is one of two fairly iconic retellings. The first came in 1931, starring Frederic March (who won an Oscar for his portrayal) and Miriam Hopkins. I mention this tidbit mainly because there are some dramatic Hollywood departures from the novel in the ’31 film, and the ’41 film is essentially a remake of the ’31 rather than a strict retelling of the Stevenson story. Interestingly enough, I actually prefer the 1941 film, though both are excellent movies in their own right.
If you’re not familiar with the specifics of the story, here’s a brief synopsis:
Dr. Henry Jekyll (Spencer Tracy) is a successful and well-respected London doctor in the late 1800s. He is happily engaged to the love of his life, Beatrix Emery (Lana Turner, in a very touching performance), despite continued efforts from her father to drive them apart. The other great commitment of Jekyll’s life is to his ongoing research into the possibility of chemically separating the two sides of a man’s psyche: good and evil. Jekyll believes that there is evil dwelling in all of us, not just those who are outwardly so, and this opinion is extremely contentious among his circle of staid medical colleagues. When he is presented with an encouraging case that seems to support his theories, he begins developing a potion that will sever the connection and “free” the two halves from one another.
No one will take his findings seriously without proof, of course, so Jekyll’s only choice is to test the serum on himself. The effects prove disastrous, as the brew unleashes his cruel alter-ego, Mr. Hyde. As Hyde, Jekyll rains down verbal and physical abuse upon a seductive barmaid (Ingrid Bergman) who tempted him on the street (and whom he refused, as Jekyll) weeks before. She becomes his prisoner, and the psychological torment he inflicts on her is frightening, even to the viewer. Hyde is truly evil incarnate. While at first he is only brought forth by drinking the potion, eventually Hyde is able to take Jekyll over to such an extent that the potion is not needed. Jekyll transforms at random, without any semblance of control, and Hyde ultimately leads him to his doom.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is carried largely by the performance of Spencer Tracy. I absolutely love the casting here, as Tracy is already kind of a lumpy, meat-and-potatoes everyman. His charm lies in his gruff kindness, and the twinkle in his eye when his leading lady enters the room. To me, that makes for a perfect Dr. Jekyll: a man who is extremely loving and dedicated to his craft, but when that goodness is stripped away he’s left with nothing but the same inner ugliness as the next person. One subtlety that I also appreciate about the 1941 version over the 1931 film is that when Jekyll transforms into Hyde, Tracy’s makeup is much more minimal than that of Frederic March as Hyde. There is an obvious transformation, of course, but it just looks like an uglier, baser version of Spencer Tracy. He doesn’t turn into a ghoulish, hairy animal, which I think plays very well into what the movie is trying to say. It’s an interpretation of Stevenson’s story that is much more about inner demons, and the dark and light sides warring within each person, than it is about turning into an actual beast.
Tracy: 
March: 
This is a great movie, and I think Tracy brought a lot of his own personal demons into the performance, which makes it that much richer and more meaningful. He grappled with alcoholism (and its consequences) throughout his entire life, as well as having a very public, decades-long affair with Katharine Hepburn. Playing this particular role, in this particular adaptation of the story, was highly significant; it makes me wonder how much audiences were aware of at the time, or if it’s something that seems more poignant now that the intervening years have shed light on his personal life. Either way, the dimension Tracy brought to the role fascinated me, and it will certainly beg repeat viewings in the future.
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but my least favorite thing about the movie might just be Ingrid Bergman. It’s an odd notion, because she’s such a wonderful actress (among my personal favorites, and this was just one short year before Casablanca!), but I really think she was miscast here. Her beauty, her voice, her bearing…she’s simply too duchessy and regal for me to ever fully believe her in a role as a tarty good-time girl. Not that she doesn’t have the acting chops, but it’s just weird. Another contributing factor might have been her forced Cockney accent, a la My Fair Lady, which sounded completely bizarre when paired with her natural Swedish lilt. It seemed like they were trying to de-Bergman her by any means necessary, which I feel could have been just as easily (and more effectively) accomplished by casting a different person. To use another example: you couldn’t just give Grace Kelly a gold tooth and say to your audience: “See! She’s unsophisticated!” Girlfriend is still going to rock it, because she’s Grace Bleeping Kelly. Same concept with Ingrid Bergman.
Tomorrow I will be reviewing The Uninvited (1944), which, if the cover art is any indication, will cause me to wet my pants a little. Ray Milland always gives me the creeps (he’s like a poor man’s Jimmy Stewart, without the adorable younger years), even without floating ghost-bodies in repose. We’ll see if that tradition carries on in this film. Until then, thanks for reading, and for continuing to join us for more 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 7: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I have to admit: Outside of that Warren Zevon song, I had never heard of Werewolf of London and had absolutely no idea there was any other werewolf film in Universal’s classic monster movies, outside of The Wolf Man series. That franchise (especially the first one) is so iconic, and casts such a long shadow over every other werewolf movie ever made, that is it almost unfathomable to even consider that Werewolf of London came first (and by half a decade at that!). It’s a shame, really, because this movie actually created many of the tropes that we now associate with werewolves, including the association with the full moon and being infected from a bite. This film even had the same makeup artist (Jack Pierce) work on both films, although he didn’t quite get to create the makeup he wanted to use for this one, so the two movies don’t actually look all that similar in that regard.
Nor is the plot all that similar either.
In this movie, Botanist Dr. Wilfred Glendon is in Tibet searching for a rare flower. Just as he discovers it, however, he is suddenly attacked and bitten by a werewolf who had been watching him from afar. Dr. Glendon is able to make it back to London where he attempts to do research on the flower (although to what end, I’m not entirely sure), but is having trouble getting it to bloom in his lab. He is soon visited by Dr. Yogami, who tells him that the flower is the only thing that can cure him of his “Lycanthropy” that was passed on to him when he was bit. But he must take it before the next full moon or there will be blood on his hands. It seems Dr. Yogami personally knows a great deal about this subject, but Dr. Glendon blows him off anyway.
Sure enough, on the next full moon, he turns into a werewolf (in a very effective transformation sequence that surprisingly rivals that of anything in The Wolf Man), and goes on a murderous spree in London.
If I’m being honest, I don’t actually love this movie, and it all has to do with Henry’s Hull portrayal of Dr. Glendon. He’s a jerk, through-and-through, and he’s far too obsessed with his work, and far too jealous of his wife and her ex-lover. Lon Chaney Jr. really sold the tortured aspect of his character in Wolf Man, which in turn made his character sympathetic. You got the sense that he couldn’t control what he was doing, and that he also didn’t want to hurt anyone. That’s not really the case here. In fact, it’s outright shown that Dr. Glendon is still somewhat human because even after he’s transformed into a werewolf, he takes time to put on a coat before he steps outside. I thought it was a goofy touch and totally counterintuitive to the dire circumstances that Dr. Yogami spoke of previously. This does, however, seem to suggest that being a werewolf in this film is more an expression of your inner demons and desires rather than a physical transformation into a completely different, out-of-control animal. Dr. Glendon is in control and yet wants to go attack specific people. It’s an interesting concept that I don’t think is fully explored.
And then there are the two older women who rent him a room while he lays low. I don’t understand why this zany type of humor is needed at all, but it reminds me an awful lot of Una O’Connor’s character in both The Invisible Man and Bride of Frankenstein. Over-the-top doesn’t even begin to describe it, and like her, the two women here nearly ruin the entire movie for me every time they’re onscreen (which is way more than they should be anyway).
I should point out that I don’t love The Wolf Man, either, but I think the reason it’s remembered more clearly is because it’s, by almost all accounts, a better movie. Still, Werewolf of London has contributed significantly to werewolf mythology and that alone makes it a worthwhile film to check out.
For Day 7 tomorrow, Kelley will kick off the 1940s by reviewing Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, so be sure and check that out as we continue 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 6: Werewolf of London (1935) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>But first: a summary! The movie begins with two American newlyweds, the Alisons, boarding the Orient Express for a romantic (?) honeymoon in Hungary. Their train compartment canoodling is put to an end, however, when they learn that they’ll be sharing this conveyance to nuptial bliss with a certain Dr. Vitus Werdegast (Lugosi). Werdegast’s presence is at first an awkward and unwelcome intrusion into their banter about papier mache salads, but he earns his keep after preventing a suitcase from whomping Mrs. Alison over the top of the head. Per Dr. Werdegast’s insightful commentary on the incident: “It is better to be frightened than to be crushed.” Well put, doctor. Well put.
As the train hurtles onward through the Hungarian mist, Werdegast divulges a bit of his past to Mr. Alison, along with his reason for the trip. He is finally returning home after 18 years– 3 years at war, followed by 15 years in a Russian prison camp called Kurgaal (“where the soul is killed, slowly”). This information is vital to the story, as the rest of the movie is colored by Werdegast’s memories of the horrors of war and the grim betrayal that took place leading up to Kurgaal. We soon find out that not only was Werdegast delivered into the hands of the enemy by his friend and commander, Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff), but Poelzig is also assumed to have stolen Werdegast’s wife, Karen. What a scumbag.
In fact, while we’re at it, let’s take a moment to add to Poelzig’s dirty coat of many colors. Through a series of unfortunate events (dare I say FATE?), Werdegast and the Alisons end up spending the night at Poelzig’s formidable, Art Deco mansion. Since being a wartime scoundrel of the highest order wouldn’t have been enough, we discover that Poelzig is also one of Austria’s most renowned architects, and he has designed/built his cliffside stronghold atop the burial ground of 10,000 Hungarian soldiers (in whose murder he was instrumental). Oh yeah, and he is ALSO the High Priest in a cult of Satan-worshippers, so there’s that as well.
Boris Karloff does an amazing job of being sinister AF throughout this entire film, and I’d call his performance a must-see for any classic horror fan. The haircut, the thin black lips, the organ-playing…it’s all incredibly iconic, while still managing to be different than any other Karloff movies I have seen so far. There is a scene towards the middle of The Black Cat where Poelzig tenderly, hauntingly walks among an array of embalmed female bodies in his cellar, which have been carefully suspended within metal cages so that their youthful beauty can be observed and appreciated (cough cough) forever. It is exceedingly creepy, and not something you can un-see.
Again, this movie is not for the faint of heart (what did I tell you about pre-code films?!). The psychological struggle between Werdegast and Poelzig is intense, as is Poelzig’s determination to sacrifice Mrs. Alison on the alter of the Black Mass. I won’t get into any more plot twists here, because it is my hope that you will all watch this movie and find out for yourselves! You can rent it from Netflix DVD or Amazon, and I seriously recommend that you do. If you like Lugosi’s Dracula and/or Karloff’s Frankenstein (or, hell, even if you’re new to the genre!), you need to add The Black Cat to your queue ASAP.
Tomorrow, Charles will close out our journey through the ’30s with 1935’s Werewolf of London (starring Henry Hull). Be sure to check it out, and keep coming back all month for more 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 5: The Black Cat (1934) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love pre-code films. I won’t bore you with a long-winded ode to the popcorn-munching, wine-drinking watchability of these early ’30s movies, but I do want to say one thing before moving on to my actual review. In case you are not familiar with the difference in what studios could get away with pre- and post-Motion Picture Production Code, it’s an interesting concept to keep in mind as we journey through the rest of our 1930s selections for this year’s 31 Days of Horror (and beyond!).
Before the Motion Picture Production Code cracked down in 1934 on what type of content was (and was not) morally acceptable for an American audience to view, studios ran amok with all kinds of insanely scandalous/taboo subject matter. These pre-code films from 1930-1934 leave no saucy stone unturned, and, you guys, they are completely fascinating. I know people think of 1930s cinema as being stilted and not terribly captivating, but if that is your current mindset I urge you to check out this and other pre-code sizzlers: Baby Face, Night Nurse, Forbidden, I’m No Angel, The Divorcee, Blonde Venus…the list goes on. Seriously. Watch ’em and prepare to do a mental 180.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand: 1932’s Island of Lost Souls!
First of all, I rented this DVD from Netflix, and was incredibly impressed by the quality of the Criterion Collection transfer. Sometimes with these early films it’s hard to get your hands on a good copy, which does take away from the movie-watching experience a bit (I’m looking at you, Love Affair). In this case though, the sharp, well-lit visuals immediately pulled me in.
The movie begins with a shipwrecked traveler, Edward Parker (played by swarthy, delicious Richard Arlen), being rescued by a freighter full of exotic animals and carried onward to a mysterious, South Seas island owned by the eccentric Dr. Moreau. Charles Laughton (Witness For the Prosecution, Mutiny on the Bounty) is excellent as Moreau, and once the freighter reaches his island, things take a very eerie, diabolical turn. We discover that Dr. Moreau has been conducting “bio-anthropological research” on the animals delivered to his island, or, more specifically, accelerating their evolution in an attempt to transform them into humans. He believes he can achieve this (and, to a degree, has succeeded) through plastic surgery, blood transfusions, gland extracts, and ray baths. I’m not quite sure what a “ray bath” is, but given that he performs all this in a wing of his home that he refers to as “The House of Pain”, I’m going to assume it’s…well, painful.
Murky science aside, this is a pretty intriguing concept.
In fact, I have to tip my hat to Laughton and the filmmakers, because this could have been a MUCH cheesier movie than it is. I tend to cock a cynical eyebrow whenever I read about movies that employ the “mad scientist” angle (see also: my rantings on supposedly-frumpy-but-really-just-wearing-a-cableknit-sweater girls who become beautiful after taking off their glasses), but Charles Laughton strikes just the right balance between earnest academic and unhinged psychopath. The atmosphere is tense, suspenseful, and the air is often punctuated by a bestial scream from the House of Pain. When you couple all this with the use of chiaroscuro lighting and slatted jungle blinds, the effect is quite chilling.
Another interesting aspect of the film is Dr. Moreau’s most successful experiment to date: the gentle and alluring panther-woman, Lota. Of all the humanoid creations on the island, she is the closest to having become truly human. Lota is Moreau’s first creation to display feelings of legitimate, romantic love (mhmm, and she’s comin’ for you, Parker!), and his first creation to shed tears. Upon seeing these glittering, womanly tears, Dr. Moreau knows he has broken new ground and gleefully tries to foist her off on his handsome new guest for some tropical babymaking. OH, THE POSSIBILITIES!
Of course, things don’t go quite to plan for the doctor, and the inhabitants of his island begin to slowly turn against him. There are even a few appearances by a furry-faced, nearly unrecognizable Bela Lugosi!
Even my husband, who doesn’t necessarily love 1930s cinema (and watched this movie with me a little bit begrudgingly), admitted that it was “surprisingly alright”. If that’s not high praise, I don’t know what is.
So, there you go.
Tomorrow, I’ll be exploring 1934’s The Black Cat, featuring the dynamic duo of Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. I’d love for you to join me, and as always, please check out the rest of our reviews during this month’s 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 4: Island of Lost Souls (1932) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>F.W. Murnau’s Faust is, as you might have guessed via remembrances of your high school English class, an adaptation of Christopher Marlowe’s Elizabethan tragedy play, Doctor Faustus. I’ll be honest: prior to watching this movie, I didn’t remember much about Doctor Faustus. I could recall that it involved a pact with the devil, and that there was a questionable exchange of youth/beauty for knowledge/power, but beyond those abstract concepts I basically left it in Mrs. Howard’s 10th grade classroom, along with The Canterbury Tales and some of the less-engrossing Greek tragedies.
How I wish now that that weren’t the case!
The story is extremely powerful, and before I wax on any further without you having any idea what I’m talking about, here’s a brief synopsis: Faust (Gosta Eckman), the humble, God-fearing alchemist, looks like the flesh-and-blood manifestation of a Michelangelo painting, with his windswept beard in a perpetual state of ethereal astonishment. He has invoked the name of Mephisto in a desperate attempt to save his town from the scourge of plague and sorrow, but once he’s done so he fears the everlasting consequences. Emil Jannings is perfectly cast as the demon Mephisto– it’s impossible not to feel a creepy tingle when those eyes glow out of the darkness at you in the clip below.
I mean, come on! That’s just cool.
I should also mention that Mephisto is particularly invested in the temptation of Faust, because he has made a wager with an archangel that even the most pristine mortal soul can be corrupted. The good doctor Faust is mankind’s greatest treasure–heretofore incorruptible–so the archangel essentially places the fate of humanity in his wrinkled, old hands. Mephisto, however, still lures him to ruin via the promise of eternal youth, beauty, knowledge, and sex, as devils are apt to do. Lots of room for existential musing here. The latter half of the movie is especially interesting to me, because despite the fact that Mephisto and Faust run all over God’s green earth causing problems for everyone, it is mostly Faust’s paramour, Gretchen, who bears the brunt of the consequences. To say any more here would give too much away, but yeah. Suffice it to say, in the immortal words of James Brown: it was a man’s, man’s, man’s world.
On a lighter note, there is a strange and hilarious scene during Faust’s initial courtship of Gretchen where Mephisto, playing the jauntily-feathered wingman, sidles up to Gretchen’s aunt and stiffly honka-honkas her. I am not joking. It’s weird, but it’s legitimately funny, and the film is full of little comedic moments like this that somehow hold up against all logic and expectation.
From start to finish, Faust thoroughly engaged me (despite a 1 hr 55 min run-time, which seems incredible for the ’20s), and the effects and makeup are fantastic. I’d wager that most people associate the name F. W. Murnau with Nosferatu today, but I honestly prefer his interpretation of Faust to the vampire flick. Not to knock Nosferatu, of course, because I think it’s an important film in a myriad of ways, but as far as watchability and enjoyment go…give me Faust any day.
If you haven’t already, I strongly recommend that you check this movie out. It can be found on Netflix DVD, and it is well worth your time (even if only to marvel at how much it sucked to be a woman in literally every century prior to this one).
Next up, I’ll be taking us into horror films of the 1930s with Day 4’s Island of Lost Souls (1932). It promises to be chock-full of crisp, linen suits and furry jungle weirdos…so I’m pretty sure you don’t want to miss it. In the mean time, I’ll leave you to ponder this publicity photo, and Charles Laughton’s crooked, probably glued-on goatee.
Thanks for reading, and for continuing to come back this month as Charles and I journey through the rest of our 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 3: Faust (1926) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll admit that I am not typically the most enthusiastic watcher of silent films. I’m more of a 1930s and 1940s gal, as you may have gathered from previous, non-horror reviews (or listening to me sing the many praises of Barbara Stanwyck in The Good, The Bad, and The Podcast). I think it has a lot to do with my love of witty banter and well-crafted dialogue. When you’re limited to what can be read from a title card, that delicious element is removed, and I have a hard time getting invested in the story. That being the case, I was intrigued by the presence of Lon Chaney, but wasn’t necessarily awaiting this film with bated breath. I did, however, keep an open mind going in.
Unfortunately, The Monster did nothing to dispel my “blah” outlook on silent films. It embodies all the qualities I was hoping it would lack: it’s cheesy, the characters are very cartoonish, and it is S-L-O-W. I hate to say it, but it was really a chore to make it through this movie at times.
To give you an idea of the plot, the movie begins with the mysterious disappearance of a beloved local farmer. The townspeople learn that he has been involved in an auto accident, but nobody knows what has become of him–foul play is immediately assumed. Enter our spirited, doofy protagonist, Johnny. Johnny is a lovestruck underling who works at the general store (with aspirations of being a detective), and let’s just say it: he’s a huge boob. It feels like the writers expect us to view him with pathos and be charmed by his Wannabe Charlie Chaplin antics, but it just didn’t work for me. He was a little too silly, and frankly he got on my nerves. All the characters did! The lone bright spot was Lon Chaney, who is always fantastic and didn’t disappoint here. Most of the time he just walks around smiling creepily, but the man knows how to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.
As the story progresses, Johnny attempts to unravel the mystery of the farmer’s disappearance. In so doing, he ends up spending the night in Chaney’s spooky sanitarium with Betty (his love interest) and Ol Whatshisname (the fancypants romantic rival for Betty’s affections) who is so forgettable that I sincerely cannot remember what he’s called.
I could go on, but honestly, this movie is skippable. Find clips online of Lon Chaney slinking around in his robe and candelabra a la Vincent Price, and you’ll feel like you’ve seen the whole thing. That is my advice to you where The Monster is concerned.
Let’s hope for better luck tomorrow, when I’ll review F.W. Murnau’s Faust (1926)! Stay tuned, and keep coming back for more 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 2: The Monster (1925) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>It’s an interesting movie because it’s sort of an enigma by seemingly being all things at once. It’s a documentary and history lesson about witchcraft but it’s also a fictional horror narrative with “reenactments” of the torture methods used on those found guilty of being witches. It’s both very tame and approachable, yet it also could never have been released in the US at the time it was made due to the sexuality, violence and nudity on display (even in Sweden, where it was made, film censors forced numerous cuts to it). It’s a critique of religion and the role it played in torturing innocent people, yet it seems to suggest that witches and demonic possessions are real. And it all feels outdated and yet ultra-modern at the same time.
So, how can a movie from 1922 be so many things at once? And is it any good?
I’ll answer the last part first: Yes, it is quite good, although it’s not particularly scary. And the pacing feels plodding, especially in the first chapter (yes, there are actual chapters in the film, with 7 in total) where we learn about the history of witches through a book on screen. And yes, that is intended to sound every bit as dull as I can make it. Being a silent film, the way we are told about this book is through titles on screen that seem to stay on FOREVER.
Eventually, it moves into the reenactment part and this is where the movie really comes to life. Christensen himself actually plays the devil in these scenes where witches dance around a campfire with demons, and must kiss the devil’s butt (literally). The makeup, lighting and effects are simply INCREDIBLE and light years ahead of anything made in the same time frame. The visuals alone make this a classic, as far as I’m concerned, and one of my favorites is of several witches flying across a nighttime sky.
Later, as we see religious officials putting witches on trial, the film shifts and begins to become more of a behind the scenes documentary, even showing some of the actor’s testing the torture devices out of curiosity. It’s the breaking of that fourth wall that felt unique to me, even nearly 100 years later. Christensen lets us know that we are watching a movie, even going so far as to point out objects with a pencil on screen. This technique is how I believe he was able to make such a strange movie that still works today, and on many different levels.
The more modern stuff (well, modern for 1922) feels a little flat, but it examines modern medicine and psychiatry and brings into question whether or not demonic possession is real, and whether that could account for some of our strange behavior now-a-days. Again, while interesting, it doesn’t quite have the impact that it should, and seems a bit disjointed from the rest of the film. Still, it’s all worth your time to at least check it out. I read somewhere that the film is public domain, so I’m sure you can find it on YouTube (legally).
Tomorrow, Kelley will be reviewing The Monster starring Lon Chaney, so be sure and check that out as we move through our 31 Days of Horror!!
The post Day 1: Häxan (1922) first appeared on It's Just Awesome DOT com.]]>