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.]]>[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.]]>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.]]>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.]]>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.]]>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.]]>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.]]>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.]]>Same rules as the previous years: Classics mixed with lesser known films that are all organized chronologically by their release date beginning with the 1920s. Some of them I’ve seen and some of them I haven’t. Also, no film from the previous lists will be on here (2013, 2014, and 2015 for those interested in catching up), and IMDB must classify the movie as “horror” for it to qualify (so, unfortunately that still means no Jaws or Silence of the Lambs).
This year, as I said, I am mixing it up a bit. For starters, Kelley is joining me and that’s a big deal because she really doesn’t like scary movies at all… so it will be interesting hearing her perspective on the ones she is reviewing. Also, we are making introduction videos for each decade that will serve as an overview of that decade’s horror movies and themes and we’ll be posting them both on the site and on social media. They’ve been fun making them and we really hope you enjoy them. These videos influenced our decision to spread the films a bit more evenly this year, so there will be at least THREE films from each decade.
So, having said all that… ready to begin? Be sure to check back each night in October to read our reviews!!
If you’d like to follow along, this is the list (which we will begin on October 1st):
“Post Home Alone, the whole world changed, right?”
“We live in a post Home Alone world now.”
“It’s a pivotal moment in human existence.”
In this episode, which kicks off our 2nd season, we talk about movies directed by Wes Craven!!
Here are the films:
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
Scream (1996)
Vampire in Brooklyn (1995)
Same rules as the previous years: Classics mixed with lesser known films, all organized chronologically by their release date, with at least one film from each decade beginning with the 1920s. Also, no film from the previous lists will be on here (2013 and 2014 for those interested in catching up), and IMDB must classify the movie as “horror” for it to qualify (so, unfortunately that means no Jaws or Silence of the Lambs).
This year, I also wanted to pay tribute to Wes Craven, Christopher Lee and Roddy Piper since they all definitely shaped the horror film genre, so you’ll be seeing some of their films here, as well.
So… shall we begin?
If you’d like to follow along, this is the list (which we will begin on October 1st):