The Year in Review: The Most Disappointing Horror Films of 2015

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2015, Alleluia, cinema, disappointing films, Felt, film reviews, films, Harbinger Down, Hellions, Hidden, horror, horror films, Horsehead, Let Us Prey, Lost River, Movies, personal opinions, The Diabolical, Turbo Kid

Let’s get one thing out of the way: none of the films in the following list are bad films. Well, that’s not exactly true: one of them is actually a terrible film but we’ll get to that. For the most part, however, none of these are bad…in fact, a few of them are actually quite good. So what gives?

As the title might indicate, these are the horror films, released in 2015, that disappointed me the most for one reason or another. Perhaps they were exceptionally strong films that completely collapsed by the conclusion. Maybe they had great central ideas/effects/actors/intentions but only a middle-of-the-road approach. Perhaps they were created by filmmakers I normally follow or had such high pre-release buzz that I couldn’t help but anticipate them. For whatever reason, these are the thirteen films (in rough ascending order, leading to my biggest disappointment) that disappointed me the most in calendar year 2015.

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Harbinger Down — This had great effects (practical, might I add), a killer location (the frigid Arctic), a kickass concept (downed Soviet-era satellite causes mutations, ruins everyone’s day) and then managed to plow as mundane a path with the material as possible. The performances tend towards broad (to put it politely), the creation mechanics/mythos is too fluid and unformed to make much sense (logically or narratively) and the whole thing devolves into a rather clunky rip-off of Carpenter’s The Thing. That being said, Harbinger Down is a lot of fun and certainly no worse than many of its ilk. My disappointment comes from the fact that it could’ve been a lot more unique but never quite crested that hill.

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Let Us Prey — Another film with a great cast (Liam Cunningham and the always amazing Pollyanna McIntosh), a great concept (sort of Needful Things meets Assault on Precinct 13) and some genuinely impressive gore effects, Let Us Prey’s devolution into sheer inanity is a real headscratcher. While starting out strong and atmospheric, the whole thing collapses into so much macho posturing (Hanna Stanbridge is one of the chief offenders, along with Douglas Russell), shouting and stupid decisions that it actually made my head hurt. Again, this was never an out-and-out terrible film: it just became an incredibly stupid film, which handily earns it a spot here.

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Turbo Kid — I really wanted to love Turbo Kid: in fact, going in to the film, I fully expected to love it as much as Hobo With a Shotgun, which is quite a bit. By the end, unfortunately, it was not to be. While the film was frequently charming and featured a great score, clever world-building (the BMX bikes were a nice touch) and some truly surprising gore (almost in the same ballpark as Hobo, if more reserved), it just never connected with me on any kind of a deeper level. While it’s hard to really pinpoint where the film went wrong for me (I loved the incredibly similar Manborg), the incredibly awkward romance between Munro Chambers and Laurence Leboeuf was certainly one of the main culprits. Leboeuf, in general, turns in such an odd, affected and irritating performance that it made me grow tired of the film fairly quickly: at a certain point, I was just ready for the credits to roll. This may be a case of “individual results may vary” but for your humble host, Turbo Kid was pretty much stuck in neutral.

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Lost River — I’ll be honest: I never actually expected Ryan Gosling’s Refn-inspired directorial debut to be a great film. Hell, I didn’t even think it was going to be a good film. Festival buzz bespoke a film that was all style over substance, a confused attempt at creating a new fantasy mythology amid the wreckage of modern-day Detroit. Lost River ends up on my biggest disappointments list instead of my “worst of the year” list, however, for one very simple reason: it’s a pretty fascinating film. Is it a complete mess? Oh, absolutely: not only doesn’t the film make any kind of traditional narrative sense, it never adheres to enough of a mythology to make any kind of fantastical “inner” sense, either. What we’re left with are alluring snippets of a truly intriguing idea (just the submerged city, alone, is kinda classic), some interesting performances, some genuinely amazing visuals and the overriding idea that this souffle coulda been a contender. Next time, however, I think the Gos may come up with something that actually sticks.

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The Diabolical — This started out as a genuinely creepy, unnerving haunted house flick (albeit an incredibly familiar one) before taking a complete left-turn into wacky sci-fi for the final third. None of the finale makes sense, the fast-pace feels more “caffeine rush” than “rollercoaster plunge” and it becomes head-poundingly dumb. A classic example of how adding too many ingredients to the soup doesn’t make it better: it just means you have to throw the batch out and start from scratch.

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Hidden — Until the stupid “twist” rears its ugly, misshapen head, Hidden is an endlessly tense, smart and claustrophobic little chiller about a family trapped in an underground fallout shelter while the world falls apart above their heads. Or doesn’t, as it turns out. When the film sticks with our plucky trio of survivors, there’s a combination of sweet domesticity and ominous foreboding that’s immensely winning. Once filmmaking duo The Duffer Brothers drop the other shoe, however, it ends up being a moldy old boot, held together with nothing more than dust and duct-tape. Pity, too: if they just could’ve stayed the course, this would have, easily, been one of the biggest sleepers of the year instead of one of its biggest disappointments.

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Monsters: Dark Continent — Remember when I said one of these disappointments was also a terrible film? Well, here’s the culprit. While I never loved Gareth Edwards original Monsters, I still had a lot of respect for what the film was trying to do. The only emotions I feel for Tom Green’s sequel, however, are derision and a slight irritation at my wasted time. Dark Continent is a terrible film is so many ways, from its utterly generic, anonymous cast (every soldier looks the same and they’re all assholes: they’re sort of like the Borg, in that respect) to its “Poli-Sci 101” level of political commentary (the soldiers are in the Middle East to fight giant mutants but spend more time fighting human insurgents because war is hell, man) to it’s utterly “who gives a shit?” notion of narrative continuity. I don’t even mind that the monsters aren’t the main focus of the film (they weren’t in the first movie, either): I mind that this shitty, utterly generic, middle-of-the-road “war” movie is.

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Horsehead — What starts out as a lush, crazy, Gothic fever-dream slowly morphs into something that could best be described as a misguided attempt to turn A Nightmare on Elm Street into an art film. It’s a real shame because Horsehead is one hell of an eye-popping experience until the whole thing sags and collapses under the weight of expectations it can’t possibly fulfill. Had this stayed a creepy, moody and nonsensical little bit of nightmare fantasia, ala Argento’s best work, Horsehead might have ended up on my Best of the Year list.  In the end, however, the film is just too cluttered, stretched-thin and vaguely silly to have much lasting impact. A pretty film, to be sure, but also pretty vacant.

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Alleluia — As someone who really enjoys Fabrice du Welz’ films, I was definitely looking forward to Alleluia, his take on the infamous case of the “Honeymoon Killers.” While there’s not much technically wrong with the film, Alleluia ended up being one of my biggest disappointments this year simply because the film ends up being so repetitive, predictable and (at least for the Belgian provocateur) too darn safe. The beauty of du Welz’ films is that we get the idea that anything can happen at any time. Laurent Lucas and Lola Duenas’ actions have such a “lather/rinse/repeat” quality to them that everything gets telegraphed, after a while. We always know exactly how Duenas’ Gloria will react, which significantly reduces any sense of tension. As such, the whole film becomes a waiting game in-between Gloria’s “manic” episodes. While visually alluring and full of strong performances, Alleluia is definitely the low point of du Welz’ filmography and that, my friends, is massively disappointing.

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Hellions — As someone who considers Bruce McDonald’s Pontypool to be a bona fide modern-day classic, any follow-up was going to instantly make its way to the top of my “must-see” list. When I found out that Hellions was about a pregnant teen who must make a desperate stand against demonic, trick or treating, home invaders on Halloween eve, well, let me tell you: I pretty much expected this to be one of the very best of the year. And here we are. While Hellions is a true visual marvel (the whole thing is shot with a hallucinatory pink filter and is probably the most unique-looking film I’ve seen since Wheatley’s A Field in England), it’s also kind of a mess, shooting for the stylized insanity of primo-era Itallo horror films but ending up somewhere closer to Rob Zombie’s “close-but-no-cigar” Lords of Salem. This was a classic case of style over substance which is especially disappointing coming from the auteur behind the whip-smart Pontypool. I definitely don’t mind films that are genuinely odd: Hellions, however, feels like it tries way too hard to achieve that. As you might guess: that’s pretty disappointing.

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Felt — You know what’s disappointing? When you agree with a film’s message, part and parcel, yet can’t stand the messenger. There’s nothing about Jason Banker and Amy Everson’s Felt that I necessarily disagree with: this searing indictment of our modern rape culture is both unflinching and long overdue. There are some genuinely powerful moments here, both visually and narratively, and if the film is never as fundamentally mind-blowing as Banker’s earlier Toad Road, well…what is? The problem (at least for me) was Everson’s consistently unpleasant, tedious and obnoxious performance as the tortured lead. I agreed with what Amy (the character) wanted to achieve but everything about the character and performance was needlessly “kooky,” off-putting and tiresome. It wasn’t just that Amy “told it like it really is”: she turned her rage on everyone around her, including her put-upon “friends” and often came across as nothing more than a spoiled brat, eager for attention. The hell of it? There’s every indication this could have been the modern Repulsion.

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The Hallow — Cool setting? Check. Interesting blend of fantasy and horror elements? Check. Solid acting and filmmaking? Check. Excellent creature effects? Check plus. So, with a scorecard like that, how did writer-director Corin Hardy’s The Hallow end up in this particular list? Quite simply because it promised so much more than it actually delivered. While The Hallow promises an immersion in Irish folktales and mythology that will produce a raft of terrifying new cinematic creepy crawlies, what it actually gives us is some zombifying fungus (not bad) and a whole bunch of pale, generic beasties that look like second-cousins to Marshall’s cave-dwellers in The Descent (not good). That’s pretty much it.

Add to this the fact that much of the film either takes place while poking around a creepy house (been there) or running through the creepy woods (done that) and there’s the distinct idea that The Hallow is much less fresh, original and interesting than it first appears. One of my biggest disappointments of the year, however, was getting all the way to the final credits and releasing that Hardy wasn’t going to utilize any of the terrible, wonderful, ridiculously cool creatures that have been teased throughout. No film this well-made can (or should) be considered a loss: there’s just too much that works here to write it off. The Hallow takes the penultimate spot on my list, however, because it was absolutely capable of so much more: the proof is right there, on the screen…what little of it there is.

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It Follows — If there was one film that seemed to be on every horror fan’s lips in 2015, it was David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows: similar to last year’s The Babadook, the film even managed to top most genre critics “best-of” lists for the year. Depending on who you talked to, the film was either the freshest horror offering to come down the pike in years (since The Babadook?) or one of the most ingenious throwbacks to old-school horror/slasher films: take your pick. One thing everyone seemed to be in agreement on, however, was that It Follows was an easy pick for best horror film of the year.

Since you’re now staring at the aforementioned film at the top of my “biggest disappointments” list, it’s probably obvious that I didn’t agree. Was this an attempt to be “edgy” and buck the trend of popular opinion? Not in the slightest: I’m in complete agreement whenever anyone wants to discuss the film’s outstanding electronic score (Disasterpiece is, apparently, the new John Carpenter), gorgeous cinematography or (mostly) solid performances. As a film (and especially as a debut film), It Follows looks just great.

The film fails for me, ultimately, because it’s just too damn sloppy with its “rules.” Part of the sheer terror of the concept (an unstoppable, constantly moving figure is always behind the victim and will move slowly and surely towards them) comes from the inevitability of the scenario: when there’s a creepy figure moving inexorably closer in the distance, our pulse elevates right along with the character. We’re told, point-blank, that the figure will pursue its quarry to the ends of the earth, slowly, constantly coming for them. Even if you stop moving, it never does.

But then we see the figure just hanging out on top of a roof, looking menacing. Or kicking back in the background, giving the characters enough of a head start to get away. Or, in one of my personal favorite bits, seemingly able to appear right where the character is, even though she drives miles away: I’m guessing the figure hopped a cab to save its aching feet? The most important takeaway, however, is this: the “rules” for the creature are exactly as flexible/non-existent as the film calls for at any particular time.

This, for me at least, had the effect of completely deflating any tension from the film. Let’s use another example: suppose that we have a zombie film where they explicitly state that a head-shot will kill a zombie. We know this, so know what to expect in the oncoming “humans vs zombies” melee. We see countless zombies being shot in the head and dropping, until one reaches our heroes: in a bit of dramatic action, our heroes narrowly put a bullet right in its head…but it just shrugs and keeps coming. Our heroes look at each other and shrug, too. Why did this happen? Why, the need for increased drama and tension, silly!

For me, however, increasing dramatic tension by jettisoning your own established rules does nothing to serve your story or your audience: it’s the equivalent of painting yourself into a corner and then just walking back across the wet paint. Since we’re never really sure what the “rules” regarding the “it” in It Follows are, we’re pretty much left with an unbeatable McGuffin that displays just enough weakness to allow our heroes to get the upper-hand. In short, it’s a plot contrivance more than an iconic new source of terror.

Does this make It Follows a bad film? Not at all: there are genuine scares aplenty, even if the atmospheric ones gradually fall by the wayside for more traditional “we gotta come together and fight the monster” beats. My big issue with all of the hype is the baffling anointing of It Follows as a modern classic: it’s a solid, well-made film but it’s too inconsistent and laise-faire to be as ironclad as it needs to be. If It Follows was the best horror film you saw in 2015, I’m going to wager that you might not have looked quite as hard as you could have.

The 31 Days of Halloween: Week 2 Mini-Reviews

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31 Days of Halloween, A Christmas Horror Story, Air, Alien Outpost, All Hallows' Eve 2, American Mary, cinema, Curse of Chucky, Damien: Omen II, Escape To Witch Mountain, film franchise, film reviews, films, Gremlins, Hardware, Hidden, horror, horror movies, Knock Knock, mini-reviews, Movies, October, Omen III: The Final Conflict, Saw 5, Saw 6, Saw franchise, Some Kind of Hate, The Beyond, The Final Girls, The Hidden, The Midnight Swim, The Monster Squad, The Omen, The Omen franchise, The Stranger, Tremors 5: Bloodlines, We Are Still Here

Welcome back, boos and ghouls, to The VHS Graveyard’s 31 Days of Halloween (2015 edition). Last time around, we gave some brief discussions on our first week’s worth of movies: this time around, we’ll be tackling the films perused during the second week of October, from 10/5 to 10/11. As always, expect more in-depth discussion of these in the (hopefully) near future: for the time being, here are mini-reviews for the twenty-five films we screened last week.

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Monday, 10/5

A Christmas Horror Story — Anthologies are nothing new in the world of horror films but horror-oriented Christmas anthologies? As rare as Kris Kringle in August. Here to remedy this sad little disparity is the multi-director/writer effort A Christmas Horror Story, soon to be joined by at least two other Christmas/Krampus-related anthologies in the next few months. ACHS looks absolutely gorgeous, thanks to some truly beautiful cinematography, and sports a pretty expert use of CGI to create things like a buffed-out Krampus and some pretty authentic gore. If only one of the stories has a truly satisfying finale (the Santa vs zombie elves episode is just about perfect), at least only one of them is kind of a stinker: when you’re dealing with anthologies, sometimes that’s the most you can hope for.

Gremlins — Growing up, I watched Gremlins so often that I pretty much had the film’s entire blocking memorized. While the film, itself, is just about the best example of evil besieging a small town that’s ever been put to film (“Norman Rockwell meets hellspawn”), it’s the slyly subversive sense of humor that really makes this one so memorable. If you were a horror fanatic who came of age in the ’80s, I’m more than willing to wager that Phoebe Cates’ infamous Santa story was as integral to your formative years as it was to mine. Bonus points for effects that have not only aged well but actually surpass more modern, CGI-heavy spectacles.

Tuesday, 10/6

The Stranger — I wasn’t really sure what to expect before starting this and, once the end credits rolled, I still wasn’t quite sure. Nominally a vampire film, The Stranger really owes more to mean-spirited ’80s revenge films. The dialogue is often awkward, as are the line deliveries from the predominately Chilean cast (the cast deliver their lines in English, which recalls nothing so much as similarly-made Itallo-gore films of the ’80s), and the acting can be earnest to the point of self-parody. Written and directed by frequent Eli Roth collaborator Guillermo Amoedo (who also wrote Roth’s upcoming The Green Inferno and Knock Knock), The Stranger is light years better than the patently awful Aftershock but, ultimately, that’s not much of a selling point.

Saw V — Tedious, bland and full of performances that confuse shouting with passion, the fifth entry in the Saw franchise continues to grind out the increasingly complex and navel-gazing storyline but there’s not a whole lot of fun to be found here. There is a nice subtext about the need to work together in order to survive but it’s hopelessly buried in the muck like a rapidly dying star.

Alien Outpost — In many ways, Alien Outpost is like a mockbuster version of Monsters: Dark Continent. Both films use the pretext of alien invasions as a way to make yet another comment on U.S. military incursions into the Middle East. Both films feature groups of largely anonymous, interchangeable soldiers (Alien Outpost, at the very least, has the benefit of Highlander’s Adrian Paul, the patron saint of poverty-row sci-fi productions) duking it out with insurgents in the desert. Both films relegate their creatures to the extreme background. Both films, as it turns out, are not only mostly interchangeable but largely forgettable.

Wednesday, 10/7

The Monster Squad — One of the most important films of my formative years (along with Night of the Creeps), The Monster Squad began my lifelong love affair with those conjoined geniuses, Fred Dekker and Shane Black. While Dekker would only direct three features in his entire career (Night of the Creeps, The Monster Squad and RoboCop 3), Black would go on to write such little-seen indie sleepers as the Lethal Weapon franchise, The Last Boy Scout, Last Action Hero and Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Smart-mouthed kids fighting famous monsters as written by the guy that created Lethal Weapon? Yeah…it’s kind of awesome.

Escape to Witch Mountain — Another of my favorite films as a youngster, Disney’s Escape to Witch Mountain feels a little dated, these days, but still largely holds up. Featuring Ray Milland and Donald Pleasence as nefarious 1%ers out to exploit the psychic abilities of a couple of cherubic extraterrestrial kids and Eddie Albert as the kindly (if curmudgeonly) guy who takes them under his wing, there’s lots of the usual Disney shenanigans (dancing puppets in an extended, almost overly jubilant bit) but also just enough real menace to give the whole thing a little bite.

We Are Still Here — Before it collapses a little in the final third, writer/director Ted Geoghegan’s debut, We Are Still Here, is an appropriately chilling little homage to films like Lucio Fulci’s House By the Cemetery and The Beyond. Up until the Grand Guignol finale, the film is a mostly glacier-paced exercise in sustained tension that makes good use of its chilly, isolated locations, puncturing the relative calm with bracing moments of intense, physical violence. Although the film becomes much more predictable when it turns into something of a supernatural Straw Dogs by the end,  what leads up to that is suitably chilling and bodes well for Geoghegan’s future output. And besides: any film that features both Larry Fessenden (his séance scene is fantastic) and Barbara Crampton obviously has its heart in the right place.

Thursday, 10/8

The Hidden — More of a relentless action film than a horror or sci-fi film (similar to the modus operandi behind The Terminator), The Hidden is a giddy, full-throttle and gently mindless bit of cinematic cotton candy. The interplay between a young Kyle MacLachlan and tough-as-nails Michael Nouri is the real star of the show, although elements like the kickass punk/metal soundtrack and a suitably slimy slug-alien creature do their job to keep the home fires burning. Add in a slightly subversive sense of humor (the scene where the alien becomes a woman for the first time is kind of great) and you’ve got yourself the recipe for a fun, if largely forgotten, bit of ’80s action fluff.

Air — With an intriguing premise (two blue-collar guys are responsible for taking care of the rest of humanity, who are all cryogenically frozen) and a pair of solid performances from The Walking Dead’s Norman Reedus and Amistad’s Djimon Hounsou, indie sci-fi thriller Air should have been an easy home-run. When the film just focuses on the nitty-gritty of Reedus and Hounsou surviving against the odds, it’s an enthralling watch. Once the two end up at odds, however, the whole thing becomes much more conventional and much less interesting, winding up in a “happy” ending that feels as undeserved as it is contrived. Moon, Gravity and All is Lost did much more interesting things from roughly the same area code.

Hidden — Rarely have I been as genuinely frustrated with a film as I was with Hidden. For the first half or so, the film is virtually flawless, managing to make the plight of a family of three in an underground bunker seem as white-knuckle and relentless as a rollercoaster. Once the twists start to pour in, however (three major ones, in a row, which is at least two twists too many), the genuinely interesting survival aspect is put on the back burner for an “us against them” trope that’s as old and musty as an ossuary. This was far from a terrible film, which actually made the let-down that much more frustrating. Call it the case of the front-runner who snaps their ankle right before the finish line: the true definition of tragedy.

The Beyond — The effects are largely unconvincing (although extremely enthusiastic), the acting is rather rudimentary and any sense of logic or continuity is largely absent but I’ll be damned if legendary Itallo gore-godfather Lucio Fulci’s The Beyond isn’t one of the most unintentionally badass films in the horror universe. With a storyline that tosses Lovecraft, King and graphic splatter into a blender and punches “liquify,” The Beyond is pretty much the epitome of a film better experienced than pondered.  Fabbio Frizzi’s kinetic synth scores hits all the requisite Goblin tones, the oppressive atmosphere is as thick as denim and that final shot of the “beyond” is as unforgettable today as it was 34 years ago. Fulci might have been somewhat of a spiritual bratty little brother to Argento’s assured maestro but The Beyond proves that the irritable auteur earned his place in the horror pantheon. And then some.

Friday, 10/9

Some Kind of Hate — This had a pretty unbeatable concept for a teen slasher (bullied misfit gets sent to a camp for troubled teens and unleashes the spirit of a vengeful, dead bullied teen) and a great concept for the “ghost” (she harms herself in order to harm her victims) but was pretty much DOA from the jump. Obnoxious, full of eye-rolling performances and never with more than a Wikipedia-lite grasp on teen bullying, this was a complete chore to sit through. Lead Ronen Rubenstein isn’t terrible, even if his character gets annoying before the final reel, but Sierra McCormick’s pivotal Moira (the ghost) is pretty awful, concept notwithstanding. Obvious, blunt to the point of being lunk-headed and ridiculously fidgety, this was a pretty big disappointment.

Knock Knock — For a filmmaker who’s been something of a trend-setter since the early aughts, it’s important to remember that Eli Roth only had three full-lengths under his belt prior to this year (Cabin Fever, Hostel and Hostel 2). With his 2013 cannibal film The Green Inferno (finally seeing release this year) being more of an homage to classic Itallo-cannibal epics, this leaves Knock Knock with the onus of being Roth’s first truly “original” film since Hostel punched our gorge reflexes in the solar plexus over a decade ago. If you think about it, that’s quite a bit of anticipation…could anything actually live up to the hype?

Right off the bat, Knock Knock exhibits many of the issues that I’ve always had with Roth’s films: he can’t direct actors to save his life (he wrings an absolutely awful performance out of poor Keanu Reeves, who seemed to be on an upswing, as of late), his wild tonal shifts fail as much as they connect (his insistence on sneaking slapstick into his films is the kind of smirking affectation that should really be slapped out of him) and his continued reliance on friend/writer Guillermo Amoedo has produced more terrible scripts than bad (Aftershock, The Stranger and Knock Knock all have simply terrible scripts).

On the other hand, it’s impossible to deny that Knock Knock is a huge evolution in Roth’s filmmaking. While his grasp on tension, in the past, was always precipitated on the promise of extreme, mind-searing gore, Knock Knock manages to maintain its white-knuckle tension with nothing more extreme than a fork in the shoulder (for Roth, that’s pretty much the equivalent of a Disney film) and an escalating series of bad decisions that end up bearing enormously bad fruit. Knock Knock is an absolute blast from start to finish, regardless of (and, occasionally, because of) all the aforementioned issues. Reeves goes full Nic Cage, shit goes from bad to worse in record time and the various twists are genuinely smart, regardless of the clunky dialogue. Without a doubt, my favorite Roth film (I’ve yet to see The Green Inferno) and one of the most intriguing films I’ve screened in a while.

All Hallows’ Eve 2 — The first All Hallows’ Eve came out of nowhere and completely bowled me over when I watched it last October, so I was pretty darn excited when the sequel popped up just as mysteriously. This time around, there are eight stories instead of three and multiple writers/directors handle the tales rather than the unified vision of the first one’s Damien Leone (definitely a filmmaker to watch). This is a whole lot more polished and flashy than Leone’s gritty, lo-fi original, which actually works against the whole “found footage on a VHS tape” angle. That being said, the stories are all interesting, even if only three of the eight could properly be considered “shorts” with full structures: the others are more vignettes than anything else (one short is only two minutes long, after all). A post-apocalyptic trick or treat session yields some real chills and “A Boy’s Life” surprises with its genuine emotional heft and great acting. There are a lot worse horror anthologies out there than All Hallows’ Eve 2, even if it never approaches the disturbing heights of its predecessor.

Saturday, 10/10

Curse of Chucky — I didn’t expect much when I started this, which made it all the more surprising when I fell head over heels for it. In the purest ways possible, Don Mancini’s Curse of Chucky (the sixth in the series, all of which have been written by Mancini) is a perfect horror film: the villain is fantastic and genuinely menacing, the acting is top-notch, the scares and tension are based around suspense and anticipation and the effects are astounding. Everything about the film shot for the sky and, for the most part, had no problem hitting orbit. Whether it was the way in which the film’s numerous set-pieces managed to channel Hitchcock (there’s a dinner scene that manages to sit nicely on the shelf next to ol’ Hitch’s classics), the subtle ways in which Chucky’s face gradually changed throughout the film or the brilliant ways in which Mancini not only tied the film in with the others but managed to expand on the mythos, Curse of Chucky is easily the best film in the series (that includes the original, ya purists) and one of the very best horror films I’ve seen in forever. Friends to the end, indeed!

American Mary — I’ve already written extensively about the Soska Sisters’ American Mary when I first saw the film a few years back, so here’s the Cliff Notes version: this is an absolutely brilliant film and one of my very favorites, genre be damned. Impossibly ugly, heart-rendingly beautiful and featuring one of the most iconic protagonists in modern cinema, American Mary is one of those works of art that seems to descend from elsewhere, fully created and ready to set the world on fire. Completely badass, full of instantly memorable characters, thoroughly self-assured and absolutely fearless, American Mary is definitely one of the highlights of modern cinema. While this story of revenge, self-discovery and extreme body modification is a difficult pill to swallow, it’s the instant antidote to anyone who bemoans the lack of quality modern genre films. They exist: you just have to dig a little deeper, that’s all.

The Final Girls — I went into Todd Strauss-Schulson’s The Final Girls fully expecting to love it and, to my extreme joy, I was not disappointed. Incredibly smart, cleverly meta, full of fantastic performances and genuinely emotionally resonant, this is easily one of the best horror films (well…horror-comedies) of the year. AHS’ Taissa Farmiga is simply stunning as the grief-choked daughter who gets a chance to reunite with her now-dead mother, albeit by “stepping into” an ’80s slasher film (blending Friday the 13th with The Purple Rose of Cairo is but one of the brilliant things presented here). There’s plenty of reliably comic performances here from the likes of Alia Shawkat, Thomas Middleditch and the always amazing Adam Devine but if you don’t choke up at the interactions between Farmiga and mom Malin Akerman, well…you might just have a heart of stone, buddy.

The Midnight Swim — Leisurely paced to the point of occasionally feeling inert, writer/director Sarah Adina Smith’s The Midnight Swim is the furthest thing from a thrill-ride. For patient viewers, however, this haunting tale of sisters returning to their childhood home to mourn their dead mother really pays off in the long run. While I wasn’t always on-board with some of Smith’s choices (there’s a goofy lip-synching scene that sort of sticks out and some of the scenes are held past the point of “evocative” straight into “navel-gazing”), I genuinely liked and respected the film. While the end may seem like a bit of a left-field twist, there are plenty of road signs to help guide us there and the whole thing ended up feeling impossibly uplifting and rather inspirational. Combine all of this with the fact that the film is, essentially, a found-footage movie and you have one of the most surprising, effective little films of the past few years. I, for one, cannot wait to see where Smith goes from here.

Sunday, 10/11

Hardware — This genuinely frightening tale of technology run amok is impossibly weird, which only makes sense when you consider the source: auteur Richard Stanley is a genuinely weird genius. Full of hallucinatory images, nonsensical dream sequences, astounding moments of ultra-gore and some of the flat-out oddest characters this side of Mad Max (the scrap-dealing dwarf is great but the outrageously vulgar peeping tom is utterly unforgettable), this has been one of my favorite films since the very first time I saw it as an impressionable kid. I can guarantee one thing: you’ve never seen anything like this before and I seriously doubt we’ll see its like again. Apple pie nerve toxin: delicious!

Tremors 5: Bloodlines — While I genuinely enjoy the first few films in the Tremors franchise (the original is an absolute classic), everything about the newest one is strictly by-the-book and rather silly. While the film looks pretty good and features decent performances from series mainstay Michael Gross and newcomer Jamie Kennedy, it’s strictly Sy-Fy when it comes to tone and intention. Add to this an uncomfortable tendency for the film to humiliate Gross’ heroic Burt Gummer at every possible turn (the scene where he gets trapped in a cage and is forced to drink his own urine, right before a large lion comes over and, literally, pisses all over him, is the worst kind of unforgettable) and you have a film that just isn’t a lot of fun.

Saw VI — When I was younger, the Saw series was one of my favorites and I eagerly looked forward to each new installment. Years later, as I re-watch the entire series for the first time, I’m struck by one, simple thought: these films are actually kinda shitty. Aside from the invention of the first and the third entries, none of them have grabbed me anew and, to that end, Part 6 is one of the worst and most tedious. From the obnoxious hyper-kinetic editing to the genuinely ugly look to the impossibly stupid and increasingly complex motivations of the characters, everything about this film is like getting pounded in the face with a sledgehammer. Helmed by “filmmaker” Kevin Greutert, who would go on to helm the notoriously execrable Jessebelle, the only emotion Saw VI elicits is the overwhelming desire for Jigsaw to help the series end its pain. Wanna play a game? Naw…I’m good, dude.

The Omen — Helmed by future Lethal Weapon director Richard Donner, The Omen is pretty much the epitome of multiplex horror circa the mid-’70s: based on a best-selling book, full of familiar faces, melodramatic and just violent enough to get the point across (the window-pane decapitation is a great setpiece, no matter how you slice it), it’s easy to see this appealing to the Saturday night, popcorn-and-soda crowd. On the plus-side, the film features sturdy performances from leads Peck and Remick and a handful of genuinely creepy moments (the graveyard scene is an easy highlight, as is the birthday party suicide). On the down side, it’s almost unrelentingly loud, heavy-handed and kind of dumb: add to that one of the most “Vasoliney” lenses since the glory days of Liz Taylor’s “White Diamonds” commercials and the whole thing feels fairly dated.

Damien: Omen II — Despite being much more grounded and decidedly less hysterical than the first film, the second movie in the Omen series is still kind of a dud. None of the deaths have any impact (aside from the utterly batshit elevator scene, which easily tops anything in the entire series) and the military school setting is woefully under-used (as is poor Lance Henriksen). There is some interesting discussion based around Thorn Industries becoming a sort of proto-Monsanto but it’s more interesting in theory than execution. This is also where the first film’s mythos about stabbing the Antichrist with the seven daggers starts to get awfully slippery, leading to the final film’s veritable free-for-all. When the scariest thing in your horror film is a sinister crow, you might have a problem.

Omen III: The Final Conflict — Finishing off the series, The Final Conflict lets the narrative from the first two films play to its conclusion, albeit influenced and modified by the burgeoning slasher trend of the early ’80s. There’s some first-person-stalker POV here (unlike the first two films) and the performances and violence certainly seem influenced by the era. Sam Neill is good as the now-grown Damien, even if his gentle gnawing of the scenery erupts into a full-on gluttonous orgy by the film’s final reel. For all that, however, the third Omen film is just serviceable, much like the first two. Extra points for the goofy, straight-faced religious salvation of the finale, which proves that evil always loses…especially when it chews the scenery like the Tasmanian Devil on speed. There are a couple genuinely shocking moments here (the attempted interview assassination begins on a slightly humorous edge before quickly nose-diving into pure horror) but, for the most part, is the dictionary definition of “middle-of-the-road.”