Phantom of the Paradise.

Review #2304: Phantom of the Paradise.

Cast: 

Paul Williams (Swan / singing voice of the Phantom), William Finley (Winslow Leach / the Phantom), George Memmoli (Arnold Philbin), Gerrit Graham (Beef; Raymond Louis Kennedy as singing voice), Jessica Harper (Phoenix), Mary Margaret Amato (Swan's groupie), Janis Eve Lynn (a groupie), Cheryl Smith (a groupie), with Archie Hahn, Jeffrey Comanor & Harold Oblong (the Juicy Fruits / the Beach Bums / the Undeads), and Rod Serling (the introductory voice) Written and Directed by Brian De Palma (#801 - Mission: Impossible, #1230 - Carrie, #1471 - Scarface, #2139 - Sisters)

Review: 

"I've always thought rock and horror were very close stylistically. I felt I had a solution in combining two separate audiences. Obviously, I didn't."

In 1974, when Halloween night became November morning, a movie came out with elements borrowed from a variety of literary sources from Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera to Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray to the famed Faust legend that was directed by Brian De Palma. You might remember that he had just scored a pretty decent hit with Sisters (1972), his sixth feature film but first with considerable attention. Interestingly, the root for making the film was De Palma hearing a Beatles song in an elevator played as "muzak" to go along with experiences trying to pitch material to indifferent executives and an idea from his friends (Mark Stone and John Weiser) about a "Phantom of the Fillmore"; De Palma wrote the film, although apparently Louisa Rose (his co-writer for the aforementioned Sisters film contributed, but the original screenplay just lists De Palma). Apparently, it was a chance meeting of De Palma with Williams at A&M Records while the former was trying to raise money for the film that led to the casting seen in the film because of his particular "look". This was the first major role for Paul Williams, who previously appeared in minor roles such as Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973) while becoming a noted professional songwriter, most notably writing the lyrics to songs such as "We've Only Just Begun" to go along with being a regular on the TV circuit. The movie was independently financed (with funding from real estate guy Gustave Berne, who actually was a co-producer on Theatre of Blood), but it found a place at 20th Century Fox because of producer Edward Pressman, who sold the film to the one who happened to bid the highest. The movie was a flop at the time of release, even with such promising ideas from Fox to have costume parties held at its big-city premieres (it was apparently on Halloween night, after all; Pressman has stated that the promotions focused more on the music and specifically Williams were ineffective for the film and he later did his own promotion of the film as "horror phantasy"). However, viewers in Winnipeg (Manitoba, Canada), they apparently loved it enough for the movie to be screened for several weeks (okay, Paris apparently was cool with the film, but Movie Night loves the city of Winnipeg far more than the country of France; besides, one came up with "Phantompalooza"). Well, there was one considerable influence the film had: music duo Daft Punk apparently cited the film as their foundation point as a favorite of theirs. The next film for De Palma would be Obsession (1976), which would end up as a decent hit before he made some film about teenage revenge.

Musical, comedy, horror, it's a delight depending on what genre you're looking for (for those questioning its place in the latter category, call it the horrors of selling one's soul and get back to me). If you appreciate films like The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975; emphasis on "you", because I sure didn't), it surely will have an electrifying effect for its viewer in enjoyable glam-like rock and acid-tongue humor for a particular industry that happens to have a game cast. De Palma really believed even in 1969 (as per production note research) that rock and horror were merging with the growing success of the Rolling Stones and Alice Cooper and thus a film should be done in the rock world beyond concert films, and I think I see where he was going with that vision for a movie that is delirious and rapid in execution. It is a broad movie where you feel every beat and every style; one critic called it an "elaborate disaster", and I fail to see how that was meant to be criticism; it's a movie about people sealing deals in blood, what do you expect?. True to form, Williams really does pull off the standout performance as both composer and actor for this film, managing to be conniving in the great double-act that can be both soul-sucking and darkly amusing. Finlay makes for a worthwhile tragic figure, robbed of his soul and his livelihood to the point where he is figuratively bound to a person with devastating results. Graham provides great amusement in his interpretation of glam rock (he may not get to provide his own vocals, but he sure moved like he did them) in great theatricality to go along with support from Memmoli and a young Harper. The film is electrifying and actually pretty funny in its look on the music industry and the exploitative horrors that come with art that is prey to big business (note the changing band played by the same people that starts and close the film), and that includes the women that are seen exploited in certain ways (take note of the auditions) as well. It is a demented and worthwhile film that may very well become even more interesting to look upon in rewatches, which is quite the compliment for the true mix of horror-comedy-musical you would hope for anytime and anywhere.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Now then, we enter a tradition that I enjoy making up so November can start off well, with the last five Novembers seeing: Dracula [1979] (2019), Revenge of the Creature (Part II, 2020), Halloween Kills (Part 3, 2021) The Cat and the Canary (4.0, 2022), and Lifeforce (Year Five, 2023). 

For Halloween: The Week After VI, let's go with Madhouse tomorrow night.

Braindead.

Review #2303: Braindead.

Cast: 

Timothy Balme (Lionel Cosgrove), Diana Peñalver (Paquita María Sánchez), Elizabeth Moody (Vera Cosgrove; Elizabeth Brimilcombe as Zombie Vera), Ian Watkin (Uncle Les), Brenda Kendall (Nurse McTavish), Stuart Devenie (Father McGruder; Stephen Papps as Zombie McGruder), Jed Brophy (Void), Murray Keane (Scroat), and Glenis Levestam (Nora Matheson) Directed by Peter Jackson (#1486 - Bad Taste, #1507 - Heavenly Creatures, #1540 - King Kong (2005), #2259 - Meet the Feebles)

Review: 

"The film is basically like a theatrical farce in many ways. Lionel ends up with a problem of having all these zombies in his house, without wanting anyone else to find out about it ...every possible thing that could go wrong, does go wrong."

Well, one needs guts or laughs every now and then. Peter Jackson had actually met Fran Walsh and Stephen Sinclair while in the midst of preparing the short-film-turned-feature debut Bad Taste (1987). Eventually, after the release of his next film Meet the Feebles (as co-written by the group for release in 1989), it finally came to pass with the three doing a script together. Jackson stated his goal of making "a splatter film that non splatter fans can go see", one that freely aimed for cheap laughs because of his liking for comedy and a general interest to entertain people. Made for roughly $3 million over the course of eleven weeks, the movie wasn't an initial hit with audiences (New Zealand is not exactly a populous place), but it eventually grew a reputation for its gore while keeping Jackson on the steady path of filmmaking, as evidenced by his next feature being the biodrama Heavenly Creatures just two years later (Walsh co-wrote that film while Sinclair went on to write, uh, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers [2002] and Russian Snark [2010]). The film runs at 104 minutes, although in its original release it had a few cuts away from its native New Zealand (due to its similarity in title to a film called Brain Dead, the States called it "Dead Alive" for release). 

What, a horror movie that is funny even with plenty of gore? You don't say. This is a warmhearted solid movie that happens to involve a "Sumatran" rat monkey and zombie descendants. You've got an embalmer that shows up for one scene for us to find out he wears a swastika underneath his stuff. You've got a reverend that kicks ass for the Lord. You've got a special-effects laden baby of disgusting nature. And most of all, you've got a climax that ends with plenty of blood and a big mother of a final confrontation that just lets the film end right then and there. It basically runs as a soap opera (set in 1957 complete with an old shot of the New Zealand flag right then and there) and plays everything over-the-top to eager worthiness. The effects were crafted by Bob McCarron and Richard Taylor to go with some miniature work by Jackson, and the blood apparently came from maple syrup, red food coloring and some other strange substance. This was the first film appearance for Balme, who still goes around talking about how enjoyable the experience was in filmmaking. He is tasked with making for a goofy dork that we can follow along with even in the madcap hilarity that arises in a silly performance that in some ways would've been right at home with the familiar slapstick times that happens to handle a heavy lawnmower, although most might also say the baby sequence is just as peak in amusement (you just have to see it to get it). Peñalver plays well in goofy warmth that plays to some of the expectations imposed in reactive timing when the situation requires it, whether that involves the meet-cute (after "foreshadowing" in fortune telling) or the eventual reunion that might as well be a scream-union. Moody is delightful in caustic timing that is quite amusing to play off Balme even when it comes to just being a voice (hence Brimilcombe) after a while, with the lunch sequence being particularly gnarly to play out in casual gutty timing. In a sea of movies with attempts at trying to top each other in effects or films they believe are the genre-savvy film for its generation, sometimes you need something to remind you of what real craftsmanship looks like. As a whole, it is the splatter movie for the entertainer at heart, clearly moving on its own terms in manic energy and glee in entrapping its viewer for a movie that straddles itself onto farce with worthwhile commitment and execution in every scene. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Closing up the October part of the schedule with Phantom of the Paradise.

The Cabin in the Woods.

Review #2302: The Cabin in the Woods.

Cast: 

Kristen Connolly (Dana Polk), Chris Hemsworth (Curt Vaughan), Anna Hutchison (Jules Louden), Fran Kranz (Marty Mikalski), Jesse Williams (Holden McCrea), Richard Jenkins (Gary Sitterson), Bradley Whitford (Steve Hadley), Brian White (Daniel Truman), Amy Acker (Wendy Lin), Sigourney Weaver (The Director), and Tim de Zarn (Mordecai) Directed by Drew Goddard.

Review:

" I’m going to leave that to others to decide. If subversion comes along, so be it. I just love that we’re throwing the ultimate horror party. And really, we’re telling stories about why we tell stories, with what the characters go through. That’s the nature of creation."

Well, it was bound to happen someday. Drew Goddard started off as a production assistant before eventually becoming a staff writer for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (2002-03), which you might remember was created by Joss Whedon. Goddard wrote his first film screenplay with Cloverfield (2008). The movie came out from a desire of Goddard to work with Whedon on something, which went from brainstorming an outline to eventually getting down to writing a first draft in the span of three days. According to Whedon, he envisioned the film as one that would be a "serious critique of what we love and don't about horror movies", one that would have what they liked in being scared along with making light of what they didn't care for recently while Goddard once called it as "more a critique of society" in posing the question about why one feels the need to marginalize youth on screen. The movie was originally slated for release by MGM...in 2009. Financial difficulties with the studio eventually led to it being released by Lionsgate years later (it was first screened in 2011 before release in March of 2012). Based on a promo campaign that pushed for as little spoiling as possible, the film was a fair hit with audiences. Goddard has continued to write in television and film (while directing once more with Bad Times at the El Royale [2018]).

Sure, maybe there is a worthwhile metaphor worth holding up for this film. Sure, maybe this is your ideal horror movie for its era that holds up well in an era of references and other things. But man, I really, really did not care that much for this movie as much as other people seem to vaunt it as a cult classic, particularly with its ending. In trying to make a "loving hate letter" to the horror genre, all I found that doesn't even have a payoff on the levels of Scream (1996). In trying to present that the monster is basically interchangeable, all I got out of that was a movie that is exhausting more than clever. The acting tries to have people play both "character" and the "archetype" to decidedly mixed results, because if you're going to play homage and parody with the slasher, you better have something charming brewing beyond Kranz being the standout. Get it? Our five guys to follow up (spoiler: not actually five) are not actually the cliches you think they are but are still pretty one-note anyway? Get it? Call me crazy, but you know what was more fun? Watching the strange charm of seeing Jenkins and Whitford together basically watching the build-up for people dying because, and I say this sincerely, they actually are funny. They may reflect the viewer when it comes to viewing our leads and waiting for things to play out (or in an amusing moment, watching them scoff at the failure of a certain horror scenario play out) but honestly, I would probably rather watch them play out for the whole film. Of course, perhaps I am not the kind of person to really understand "meta" or whatever but consider that some have seen plenty of horror films that actually let you think about its cliches and don't come off as exhausting. The Deadly Spawn (1983) wasn't much more than its effects sequences, but I was more interested in where it was going to end up in its house-bound locale than here with its attempts at playing on the joke (it also didn't have an ending that made me roll my eyes). Hell, Shaun of the Dead (2004) just shut up and rode its romcomzombie foundation for a consistent ride that commented on the old stuff but actually was worth its stuff in the elements. But, well, I can at least say it isn't on the level of The Blair Witch Project (1999) in being overrated? You want horror movies with "meaning"? Then give me something worth its salt to actually hold up beyond essentially chuckling at itself. Time will surely give credit to this film for its playing with the tropes of horror, but I'm not going to lose any sleep in calling it average. It has a few interesting moments in curiosity in actual violence, specifically a moment of release to build-up the actual reveal, and it sometimes is funny when it comes to looking at them beyond cliches. But as a whole, it manages to overwhelm and underwhelm itself in misplaced ideas about horror and youth for overall execution that makes it just average in the long run. Go into the film with as little expectations or knowledge as possible and see for yourself, for better or worse.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next up: two better horror movies with elements of humor, and the first is Braindead.

Strait-Jacket.

Review #2301: Strait-Jacket.

Cast: 

Joan Crawford (Lucy Harbin), Diane Baker (Carol Cutler), Leif Erickson (Bill Cutler), Howard St. John (Raymond Fields), John Anthony Hayes (Michael Fields), Rochelle Hudson (Emily Cutler), George Kennedy (Leo Krause), Edith Atwater (Mrs. Allison Fields), and Mitchell Cox (Dr. Anderson) Produced and Directed by William Castle (#369 - House on Haunted Hill (1959), #1071 - 13 Ghosts, #1418 - The Night Walker, #1703 - Undertow, #2261 - Macabre, #2300 - Homicidal)

Review: 

Sure, William Castle got to reap the benefits of making a movie that seemed a bit familiar to Psycho (1960), which you might remember was a loose adaptation of the famed Robert Bloch novel. Bloch had just finished his first screenplays with 1962's The Couch (where he worked off a story that had been devised by Blake Edwards and Owen Crump) and The Cabinet of Caligari (which had its own litany of troubles). So anyway, here is a movie written by Bloch directed by Castle. Oh, but this one has a gimmick far more noted than buzzers and skeletons: it has the same star from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) in established stars dipping in suspense: Joan Crawford (cast after Joan Blondell, star of, well, not Baby Jane, dropped out somehow). Crawford, if you remember correctly, had a hell of a time with her final decade in filmmaking, which resulted in a good deal of horror movies that come with casting old familiar names, which saw her career close out in film with I Saw What You Did (1965, re-uniting with Castle), Berserk! (1967), and, well, Trog (1970). Crawford had enough influence to make sure that Anne Helm (apparently nervous being cast opposite Crawford) was quickly replaced with Baker before rewarding the production with commitment in promoting the film (this went with a plastic ax giveaway of course). As for Bloch and Castle, the two worked together once again in The Night Walker, which came out the same year involving a different accomplished actress in the main role (Barbara Stanwyck) in his first film away not distributed by Columbia Pictures after five years (his last seven films were either distributed by Universal or Paramount); Bloch would soon work in collaboration with Amicus Productions on a regular basis, most notably doing six film scripts from 1965 to 1972.

The body-count is five, although two come for the prologue that just gives you a quick rundown of one person's solution to adultery way back when: the ax. How could I resist? Sure, Crawford may have been stuck playing for scripts that weren't exactly Mildred Pierce, but there is never a moment where you find her looking like it is beneath her talent to give commitment (and yes that includes the scene where they give her a wig to make her look years younger, but would you really think Crawford was in her late fifties with this?). Audiences did flock to the film despite such devastating critiques that called the movie "inexcusable for its scenes of violence" (seriously, did people just watch horror movies with blinders back then). It's very amusing to see a movie past and future Academy Award winners (Crawford and Kennedy, respectively) mixed in with a PR vice president for Pepsi in Cox (Crawford was a board member, incidentally) for a movie that goofs around with axe-murdering (Homicidal had a stabbing early, this one has fake heads chopped off with a sound effect that would be fun to guess about). Crawford is enjoyably on point for a film that relies on commitment to really make it work in vulnerability among a returning member of society and in family. She never looks foolish or makes one think they are wasting their time in seeing her play horror, and Baker clearly is game to match with her in reasoned timing that goes along with the rest of the seasoned cast. I like the bubbling tension in just what is going on in what you expect for a movie about nuts and axs and what you end up with in passive sadness in adjustment, albeit one that is undoubtedly a Castle film through and through (hokey is not a mean word when you like it). Strangely enough, the one thing that bugs me about the film is the exact last scene of it all, because it really doesn't need a tight-winded explanation of what you saw (hey, let it play out), it could've just ended right as that twist crashes into you; apparently, it was Crawford who "suggested" that scene be in the film to end it all. As a whole, I think it actually is a neat film, managing to get a worthwhile performance from Crawford in gnashing the screen that makes for a capable Castle experience.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Special Announcement: For the second straight year, you get to enjoy a Halloween Triple-Threat Spectacular: The Cabin in the Woods goes first.

Homicidal.

Review #2300: Homicidal.

Cast: 

Glenn Corbett (Karl), Patricia Breslin (Miriam Webster), Joan Marshall (Emily), Eugenie Leontovich (Helga), Alan Bunce (Dr. Jonas), Richard Rust (Jim Nesbitt), James Westerfield (Mr. Adrims), Gilbert Green (Lieutenant Miller), Wolfe Barzell (Olie), Jean Arless (Warren), and Hope Summers (Mrs. Adrims) Produced and Directed by William Castle (#369 - House on Haunted Hill (1959), #1071 - 13 Ghosts, #1418 - The Night Walker, #1703 - Undertow, #2261 - Macabre)

Review: 

You remember that William Castle had bet on himself with Macabre (1958) in promotional gambits wrapped in spooky horror. He followed it with films that continued the trend with worthwhile success with the following year with House on Haunted Hill and The Tingler. He kept it going with 13 Ghosts (1960) before putting his sights on two films for 1961, with the other being Mr. Sardonicus. Homicidal was written by Robb White in his fifth and final collaboration with Castle. Admittedly, Castle is just as much a presence here as the people are for the film, complete with him being in the introductory sequence that leads right to a needle-point title card (and of course, the buildup to the end). Yes, the film does have a special fright break, placed just before the climax that actually counts down for 45 seconds. One could simply leave the movie and get their money back if they were "too frightened". Of course, the response to the question you might have (why not hide and then see it a second time before leaving at the end?) was thought of by Castle too: a "Coward's Corner" and certificate of one being a chicken. With Castle delivering his style of promotion that involved travelling around from area to area to help promote his film by talking to people (he apparently would sometimes stand in the lobby of a theater showing the movie in order to discuss the movie with people who just saw it), it was no surprise that the film was a relative success at the time of release for Columbia Pictures (the distributor for Castle's films from 1959 to 1964). 

Sure, it may invite comparisons to Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho (1960) in the loosest of senses when it comes to twist endings and a certain type of buildup with carefully spread-out body-counts (both films have a kill count of two and even more coincidentally, Hitchcock had been interested in making Psycho after seeing the success of House on Haunted Hill on its low budget). It is the kind of craftsmanship that delivers exactly what you would want in macabre enjoyment that leaves one mostly pleased for 87 minutes. Sure, its opening sequence and closing outweigh the elements for the middle section, but it rolls along in relative comfort. Marshall was a fairly a regular presence on television but as it turned out, this was her first and only big role (complete with using a stage name for some reason) for a film prior to her death at the age of 61 in 1992. Once you realize the extent of what she has to do for the film (involving makeup because of her successful audition), you see a pretty neat performance to carry the movie along with examining the troubles of an unbalanced self. She is a strange egg from the first time we see her before she even gets into the amusing phony marriage bit, which probably delivers the best stunner of the whole film where she takes a kiss from the justice of the peace and promptly stabs him before waltzing out in the middle of the night. Breslin and Corbett don't exactly have much to really do to stand out among the bubbling schlock, but even solid normalcy is welcome when you wait patiently. Leontovich actually was more known in the theatre for her acting, playwrighting and teaching, with this just being her sixth (and last) film role, one in which she doesn't utter a sentence. She still does well regardless in capturing fear when matched against Marshall in that fine art of taunting tension that is closed out with the other cheeky moment of the film: seeing the body in the distance only to have the head pop out down the stairs. For those who like familiarity with a showman at the helm to deliver a few interesting moments in an era where the surface was only starting to get chillier and murkier. Regardless of how one regards Castle as a filmmaker, he sure made you take notice in his best day.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Willard (2003).

Review #2299: Willard (2003).

Cast: 

Crispin Glover (Willard Stiles), R. Lee Ermey (Frank Martin), Laura Elena Harring (Cathryn), Jackie Burroughs (Henrietta Stiles), Kimberly Patton (Barbara Leach), and William S. Taylor (Joseph Garter) Directed by Glen Morgan.

Review: 

Remember Willard? You know, the movie about rats. In 1971, Bruce Davison had starred in the film loosely based on the 1968 novel Ratman's Notebooks by Stephen Gilbert, with Daniel Mann serving as director. It had quite the quartet (Sondra Locke, Elsa Lanchester, and Ernest Borgnine) to make for a movie that I wish I remembered better than the one time I saw it about seven years ago (I didn't even bother watching the "follow-up" 1972 film Ben, which has a title song that is played here). But I eventually figured I would reach this film, mostly because I assumed Crispin Glover would be a worthwhile lead presence in terms of oddball nature that I could lock away for a future time. Anyway, the film (which isn't exactly a remake since it elects to go with an ending distinct from both the original film and the book) was directed by first-time feature director Glen Morgan, who some might know best from his writing on select episodes of The X-Files. The movie wasn't a big success with audiences, but Morgan did direct again...with a remake of Black Christmas (2006).

It probably is a reflection of my hazy memory of the original, but this second rendition of Willard manages to justify its existence with a solid lead performance to go along with worthwhile timing in unsettling moments and even a bit of humor for a neat average movie. It won't rank up there as one of the great re-adaptations, because one can only go so far with a psychological portrait of a man hollowed out enough to enjoy rats with such a familiar structure (incidentally, this film features Davison...as a portrait on the wall). Granted, knowing the structure is kind of amusing for me when you get introduced to Ermey as a man of the rat race (pun intended) that gets to chew out our hollowed lead. Glover just seems to nail this role from the get-go in a way that is unnerving in the fact in the little things that come out that remind us of ourselves (of course, most of us have not cobbled rat-related books like Glover, who reworked the 1896 book Studies in the Art of Rat Catching for a collage book). This is a character that has been thoroughly hollowed out by authority around him that we can't help but feel sorry for, even if just a tiny bit when it comes to trying to make a place with something that he doesn't hate in his lonely state. His energy is infectious and fascinating to see play off the other members of the ensemble. Ermey is devilishly excellent in a role he seemingly could play in his sleep in rough demeanor, albeit one that makes me chuckle (in one scene, he is shown looking up dirty pictures). He makes the perfect foil in pushing, pushing, and more pushing when it comes to grinding people down until, well, you already can guess. Harring proves fine in those moments matched up with Glover in awkwardness while Burroughs gets to grind away in brief hamming of scenery (no one can beat Lanchester, but still). The rats here are mildly spooky, but I think you know that others will have their own reaction to creature features where it can't be whisked away so easily. The open-ended nature of its ending is quizzical enough to close the film on a worthwhile note, rewarding those who liked the journey set by Glover in creepy energetic nature and prefer a remake that just goes for solid creeps and mostly hits it. Sure, creature features don't always win in the scare department, but with an unnerving portrait of a man hollowed to all but rats in the world played to exquisite execution by Glover, you might have the right movie to watch one strange night.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Bubba Ho-Tep.

Review #2298: Bubba Ho-Tep.

Cast: 

Bruce Campbell (Elvis Presley / Sebastian Haff), Ossie Davis (John F. "Jack" Kennedy), Ella Joyce (The Nurse), Heidi Marnhout (Callie Thomas), Bob Ivy (Bubba Ho-Tep), Larry Pennell (Kemosabe), Daniel Roebuck (Hearse Driver), and Reggie Bannister (Rest Home Administrator) Directed by Don Coscarelli (#1459 - Phantasm)

Review: 

"You know what? Bruce’s fans have always known he’s a great actor. Everybody in Hollywood just sees him has this clownish character. But here he gets to be really subtle. His best moments in this film are not showy at all, they are simple. And you can almost hear his fans think: I knew he was a great actor! I knew it! I’m glad that the film also appeals to his fans. Because it’s a story about age and death and friendship. It might apply more to someone in their forties or fifties or sixties. But to have the Evil Dead fans enjoying it, brings me so much satisfaction. "

In 1994, Joe R. Lansdale wrote a novella involving a not quite-dead Elvis Presley living out the end of his days in a Texas resting home...at least if a mummy has anything to say about it. Of course, that novella was weird enough to fit right in for an anthology collection (called "The King is Dead"), although most stories don't generally involve a growth being found around a certain male body part in detail. Around that time, he had been interested in working with Don Coscarelli (an optioning of his story "Dead in the West" went nowhere). Folks might remember him as the director behind the first four Phantasm films, with Bubba Ho-Tep being his first non-Phantasm film since Survival Quest (1989). Coscarelli was recommended by Sam Raimi to approach Bruce Campbell about doing a film together, and while it took a few years to get around to filming. Coscarelli wrote the screenplay that came mostly from Lansdale's novella, which had merely alluded to how Elvis switched places with an impersonator. The movie was shot at the Rancho Los Amigos Rehabilitation Hospital in Downey, California to go along with effects provided by KNB EFX. The resulting movie (one that basically had no problem with the dialogue except for just who would narrate it, which eventually went to Campbell) received a limited distribution on the roadshow circuit (as toured by the director with the over three dozen prints struck of the film). While the film did not exactly inspire "Bubba Nosferatu: Curse of the She-Vampires" that you can see teased at the end credits (namely because Campbell had some issues with Coscarelli's ideas, which apparently intended to have Paul Giamatti play Colonel Tom Parker), the film has a fair cult following two decades since its release. Coscarelli returned to directing features with John Dies at the End (2012) while Lansdale wrote another Bubba story with Bubba and the Cosmic Bloodsuckers in 2017.

Sure, you go right for the title when it comes to wondering about the movie, it just stands right out. Aside from the casual interest in wondering just what lurks beyond the obvious in a mummy and an Elvis caricature, there are a few fun moments to have in the neat kind of shaggy comedy-horror movies. It casually moves along for 92 minutes for a mummy movie that goes with the most ideal target for a lumbering ancient being (that gets a cheeky explanation for where it came from: lost during a museum tour): old people that nobody will suspect to be sucked out of their life at a nursing home. Coscarelli took great care to make a film where our hero is not merely fodder for cheap jokes but instead is someone that we believe is the real deal in magnetic old glory that lives on just as much as the image people hold of Elvis in his prime. Campbell really delivered when it mattered most in pathos, pure and simple. Davis apparently was keen on the script enough to overrule his agent and express interest (Coscarelli had Mick Garris write a letter on his behalf asking Davis himself). He lends a charming dignity to the proceedings that has clear chemistry with Campbell and even a few moments to engage in humor (as one does when playing on JFK conspiracies and kooky explanations for claiming to be not dead and also dyed). The peril that comes with aging is knowing that the regrets will pop in our old minds just as much as the memories we tried to make in what we called our glory days. Some people get to live out their days in a blaze of choices and others sit there to rot in ways I can't imagine, and the film dwells in the company of aging goes well with the snappy dialogue that comes through (narration or otherwise) in mummy confrontation, codger style. The climax is poignant enough to deliver what you would expect from its surroundings that benefits its audience and sends them remembering that all really can be well in the end. It is straight to the point in offbeat entertainment that has a few chuckles and a worthwhile duo going along with the material on its face to deliver a movie worth popping in one night on the strength of its worthwhile reputation over the past two decades.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Earth vs. the Spider.

Review #2297: Earth vs. the Spider.

Cast: 

Ed Kemmer (Mr. Kingman), June Kenney (Carol Flynn), Eugene Persson (Mike Simpson), Gene Roth (Sheriff Cagle), Hal Torey (Mr. Simpson), June Jocelyn (Mrs. Flynn), Mickey Finn (Sam Haskel), Sally Fraser (Mrs. Helen Kingman), and Troy Patterson (Joe) Directed by Bert I. Gordon (#929 - Tormented)

Review: 

Okay, so it has been a while since I covered a Bert I. Gordon movie (seven years, in fact). Gordon was a filmmaker for over three decades, specializing mostly in effects-based features of varying quality. He served as a co-producer on Serpent Island (as directed by Tom Gries in 1954) before becoming a true director with King Dinosaur (1955). He added effects to his foray with his 1957 trio of films that started with Beginning of the End (1957). The following year, he directed three more films with War of the Colossal Beast (1958), Attack of the Puppet People (1958), and this one; amusingly, both films are mentioned in the film as part of a double feature here for a film that is sometimes referred to as just "The Spider" (I'm going with the title that takes me back to Earth vs. the Flying Saucers [1956]). This actually was among Gordon's last to go big (pun intended) on effects until Village of the Giants in 1965; it was also the fourth film of his with distribution by American International Pictures, but he stopped his association with the company due to money issues he had with them until the 1970s. The movie was written by László Görög and George Worthing Yates, each of whom had done their share of horror scripts (the former did The Mole People [1956] and the latter did the story for Them! [1954] along with five total film scripts for Gordon). 

Admittedly, it had only been three years since that other movie about spiders with Jack Arnold's Tarantula (1955). Earth vs. the Spider proves quite the chuckler, particularly since it just goes on a quick start in someone running right into the spider right then and there. In fact, the movie doesn't even play with the whole "finding out the creature is real beyond all doubt" (except for one grouchy sheriff played by Roth, who I should mention *sees the spider himself*) or even wonder how the big spider is, well, aa big spider, it just is there making noise (don't ask if spiders sound like that). This is a being that can take plenty of DDT (ask your grandpa) that only seems to knock it out temporarily before the power of rock-and-roll music (yes, you see a spider in your gym, and it means it's a *swell* time to rock!) bring it right back up again. I especially like that the spider leaves skeletons with no missing bones for folks to discover in caves, since the spider likes to chew flesh like it was cheese of the pizza. At least of the two lead actors were under the age of 25 when they made this film involving teenagers, and while the script sure has them lend themselves to plenty of silly stuff (surely, I must go into this cave to get a bracelet back that my dead parent gave me, also he happens to be in the cave because of that deadly spider thing), they aren't exactly grimacing in being stick with this film. The effects are about a notch above, say, The Giant Claw, for better or worse (Paul Blaisdell apparently made a giant spider leg to use for the film). One has to love that after the plan to simply cave-in the big ugly goes by the wayside, their next plan is to simply electrocute them with the use of power lines that ends up with the monster then falling onto stalagmites...and then they dynamite another cave-in. As a whole, it is cheesy and one-dimensional in a predictable but somewhat comforting way. You expect a silly monster movie with a title like that and you pretty much get exactly what you expect with a hokey mess here.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Mad Magician

Review #2296: The Mad Magician.

Cast: 

Vincent Price (Don Gallico / Gallico the Great), Mary Murphy (Karen Lee), Eva Gabor (Claire Ormond), John Emery (The Great Rinaldi), Donald Randolph (Ross Ormond), Lenita Lane (Alice Prentiss), Patrick O'Neal (Police Detective Lt. Alan Bruce), and Jay Novello (Frank Prentiss) Directed by John Brahm.

Review:

Sure, you might have heard of a 1950s horror film with "3D Thrills" starring Vincent Price...with House of Wax (1953). Columbia Pictures wanted to join in on the fun of 3D and employed the sane producer (Bryan Foy) and the same writer from that film in Crane Wilbur, who had gone from acting in the silent era to writing in his own right, which started with the 1922 play The Monster (which itself was turned into a film in 1925); he wrote (and directed) for a variety of genres from noir to horror, which included The Amazing Mr. X (1948). This was the second of three films with Wilbur and Price, with the next one being The Bat (1959). Up until that point, Price was getting lagged in noirs and adventure films, albeit not so much as the leading man (let's just put aside that first contribution to horror with The Invisible Man Returns at the very early part of his career in 1940). But Magician was the second of the eventual run that would come from Price in horror by the time the decade was over. This was directed by John Brahm as he was winding down his directing career. The German-born actor-turned-director had left his native country with the rise of the Nazis in the 1930s, eventually seeing him settle in America. He was a steady director for three decades (he directed the second remake of The Lodger) before adding television to his repetoire in the 1950s (he directed 12 episodes of The Twilight Zone, perhaps most famously starting with "Time Enough at Last"); he directed four features after Magician, with Hot Rods to Hell (1967) being his last prior to his death in 1982 at the age of 89.

Loosely set around the 1890s, what we have is a decent movie that isn't quite at the level of future Price films in devilish interest for what kind of madcap stuff could happen next, but he at least manages to make things work in a cut-rate 73-minute feature. Anyway, here's the gambit: a wannabee magician finds that the only way to get out of people trying to stop him from performing finds that murder is a handy tool. You do get to see a bit of stage magic when it comes to winding up how one would accomplish the act of severed heads or incineration for a curious audience. The plot is a bit out there, made clearest with the landlord character played by Lane, who just happens to be a writer for murder mysteries that surely won't come to play. The disguise parts (yes, in addition to would-be magic making, he also does disguises) is also pretty amusing. The body-count is more about what is implied in gruesomeness than actually seen (just your average stuff like having a head sawn off, death by strangling, and incineration), but it moves at a leisurely pace that leaves the viewer willing to accept at least some of its maneuvering. Price makes for a maniacally useful showman that we can follow with up to a point when it comes to genre-savvy viewers that like to see him play opposite a few weirdos and do-gooders in the mix. Murphy and O'Neal may be ordinary (fingerprint curiosity from the latter notwithstanding), but an average film with quiet faces besides the one we inquire to see is serviceable, while Gabor-Emery-Randolph make for quality fall-guys in such short time (take note of the fact that Price likes to impersonate the latter a few times when it comes to doing stuff). The climax is about on part with Wax the most, but it ultimately is serviceable enough to provide some average charm that might prove worth it for those who've been to the well of films of its ilk, genre, star, or otherwise. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Pit and the Pendulum (1961).

Review #2295: The Pit and the Pendulum (1961).

Cast:

Vincent Price (Nicholas / Sebastian Medina), John Kerr (Francis Barnard), Barbara Steele (Elizabeth), Luana Anders (Catherine Medina), Antony Carbone (Doctor Leon), Patrick Westwood (Maximillian), and Lynette Bernay (Maria) 

Produced and Directed by Roger Corman (#368 - The Little Shop of Horrors, #684 - It Conquered the World, #852 - The Terror, #931 - Not of This Earth, #1007 - Attack of the Crab Monsters, #1039 - Five Guns West, #1042 - War of the Satellites, #1136 - Gas-s-s-s, #1147 - X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes, #1186 - A Bucket of Blood, #1423 - The Wild Angels, #1425 - The St. Valentine's Day Massacre, #1674 - Machine-Gun Kelly, #1684 - Creature from the Haunted Sea, #1918 - House of Usher, #2030 - The Trip, #2113 - The Undead, #2211 - The Intruder, #2275 - The Wasp Woman)

Review: 

"I had a lot of theories I was working with when I did the Poe films... One of my theories was that these stories were created out of the unconscious mind of Poe, and the unconscious mind never really sees reality, so until The Tomb of Ligeia, we never showed the real world. In Pit, John Kerr arrived in a carriage against an ocean background, which I felt was more representative of the unconscious."

Well, when you get one successful movie based on the Poe stories, who not another? House of Usher (1960) and this film share the same screenwriter (Richard Matheson), the same cinematographer (Floyd Crosby), the same set designer (Daniel Haller) and even the same lead actor (Price). Apparently, one plan to follow up Usher was to adapt "The Masque of the Red Death", but either Corman or Samuel Z. Arkoff decided that the 1842 story "The Pit and the Pendulum" by Poe would be better to adapt next (Corman claimed that making Masque would inspire comparisons to The Seventh Seal [1957]); it wasn't exactly set in stone to make a series of Poe films yet, it just so happened that the first was a hell of surprise in being a hit that they thought they could another one. The original story was merely a brief tale involving the Spanish Inquisition that involved a razor pendulum and eventually a contraption involving moving red-hot walls, which made it a tough one to crack for adaptation at first. Matheson reflected on the fact that he basically imposed an "old suspense mystery" in an attempt to do Poe. A prologue was shot for TV that sometimes is included for home media releases to view. The next film in the Poe cycle would be the unusual one of the group in The Premature Burial (1962), which originally started out as a non-AIP venture in financing (before soon becoming one, although Ray Milland was the star). Matheson didn't write that film, but he did write for the next two Corman-Poe films with Tales of Terror (1962) and The Raven (1963).

Admittedly, one probably does have an early sense of familiarity watching this any time after doing so with Usher, since both start with someone going up to a foreboding place involving a doomed Price and a doomed lady. But if you know Corman well enough, you know that he had the spark to make a worthwhile venture when everything comes up his way in execution for 80 minutes. He may have had 15 days to shoot the film, but he makes the film look like it came out of the woodwork with no trouble at all, one that shows his craftsmanship and his imagination in perpetuating his ideas of Poe and the unconscious mind. As spearheaded by Haller, the film utilized a handful of discarded pieces of sets (such as archways and stone wall units) for its look that looks dazzling in unnerving enjoyment. I'm not quite sure which is better among Usher or Pendulum, but one would be forgiven for just going along with the ride when it comes to a seminal actor like Price to lead the way. One can wonder just how to describe how good Price is when you've seen him in plenty of horror movies, but he has that certain type of talent that means one never seems to see him phone it in just for the sake of it all. His descent into madness is our descent because of how lurid everything looks and feels to us. I can't help but smile when the film kicks into the climax in delightful terror, probably because there is something befitting in smiling at what otherwise is a scary prospect: torture-traps and looping into old traumas by manipulation. The fact that the torture device looks spooky enough to actually look dangerous helps to really bring it all together for a movie that could've just as easily weltered with such a specific amount of people to focus on (five, really). Kerr may be ordinary, but he at least is steady enough to keep things Steele may not have much to do, but she does prove a worthy conniving match with Anders when it comes to strange bedfellows, particularly when it comes to that final rundown and shot. In totality, it is a delightful movie, making a worthwhile addition to the horror tradition that plays loosely with the Poe story in the best way possible for one's mind to look with.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Peeping Tom (1960)

Review #2294: Peeping Tom.

Cast:

Karlheinz Böhm (Mark Lewis; Columba Powell as young Mark Lewis), Moira Shearer (Vivian), Anna Massey (Helen Stephens), Maxine Audley (Mrs. Stephens), Brenda Bruce (Dora), Miles Malleson (elderly gentleman customer), Esmond Knight (Arthur Baden), Martin Miller (Dr. Rosan), Michael Goodliffe (Don Jarvis), Jack Watson (Chief Insp. Gregg), Shirley Anne Field (Pauline Shields), and Pamela Green (Milly, the model) Produced and Directed by Michael Powell (#400 - The Thief of Bagdad, #1367 - A Matter of Life and Death, #2062 - A Canterbury Tale)

Review: 

"I make a film that nobody wants to see and then, thirty years later, everybody has either seen it or wants to see it."

It's easy to say the critics of a certain time were just stupid with some films, particularly in horror. This is especially strange to think about when you have 1960 to look at with prominent directors dipping their toes in horror. You might remember Powell as part of the duo The Archers, where he wrote, produced, and directed a handful of classic British films together with Emeric Pressburger before he struck out on his own after they split in 1957. The movie was written by Leo Marks, who actually had served at the Special Operations Executive in World War II for cryptography (having enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe's "The Gold-Bug" at a young age along with breaking his father's price code for books) before becoming a writer in plays and films, with this being his most noted. The screenplay apparently came from his perception that all cryptographers are "basically voyeurs". You might see a few similarities with this and Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho: both involve mild-mannered leads with parent problems that we follow for the film, both could be claimed as "the early slasher", and both have an interesting way of basically making one be the voyeur themselves (interestingly, the poster for this film in saying to "See it from the beginning" matches loosely with the demand of no late admission for Psycho). But Peeping Tom, released a few months before the other film...and critics treated it like it murdered their parents. Seriously, what kind of movie is controversial enough to have one guy wish they would "shovel it up and flush it swiftly down the nearest sewer"? Even a subsequent 1979 release campaign spearheaded by Corinth Films that saw money provided by Martin Scorsese (an admirer of the film back then) saw a critic call it among the "limper suspense movies". Powell directed just four theatrical films after the failure of this film, but he at least saw the vindication of the film play out before his death in 1990 at the age of 84. 

Yes, you do get your killer movie involving the camera capturing death (four in total, which come from a blade located in the tripod), but one obviously looks further when it comes to the deeper elements that come with knowing who the killer right from the get-go. Sure, you don't actually see that much violence beyond the realm of seeing people show fear for what is being shown in front of them, but I'll stake the idea that this is still a pretty unnerving horror film at any rate (others may disagree, but whatever). It has a compelling lead performance precisely because of the manner it goes to actually let one wonder just what could compel someone to be so absorbed in their pho-I mean, their camera, to see the world. I think we can find people with an obsession that seems more useful to them than being outgoing now, if you catch my idea. Hell, Powell cast himself not as the director in the film that our lead character works for, he cast himself as the little-heard but important father of the lead, one who made him a guinea pig for experiments about fear (complete with having his own son play the young kid captured in fear). Consider the way he handles a woman with a cleft palate in photographing (which he does on the side in the seedy places), where he remarks of it as a "first time". Böhm (a regular actor since the late 1940s) was apparently cast by Powell because as the son of famed Austrian composer Karl Böhm, he figured he would understand the role well when it comes to being in the shadow of one's father. Suffice to say, he sure pulled off a worthwhile performance here, inspiring curiosity over this stunted creature, one that we wonder about because of his fetish to stare isn't exactly that much different from our desire to see horror play out on camera. Powell clearly saw himself in this character, and Böhm clearly took it to heart for a sincerely sad triumph. Massey (as opposed to Shearer, who gets offed pretty quickly) actually matches well with Böhm in considerable curiosity because of her attempts at understanding such a strange creature come off convincingly to us, because her interest matches right in with our interest more than just being an ordinary last one out type. With a carefully constricted level of curiosity (101 minutes), there is plenty to recommend for a viewer to watch in the grand display of chilling patience and probing curiosity in obsession and where it could all lead to when left to one's devices. depending on where you define it in the realms of horror, it is a worth a watch at some time in someone's horror curiosities. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

The Raven (1935).

Review #2293: The Raven.

Cast: 

Béla Lugosi (Dr. Richard Vollin), Boris Karloff (Edmond Bateman), Lester Matthews (Dr. Jerry Halden), Irene Ware (Jean Thatcher), Samuel S. Hinds (Judge Thatcher), Spencer Charters (Colonel Bertram Grant), Inez Courtney (Mary Burns), Ian Wolfe (Geoffrey "Pinky" Burns), and Maidel Turner (Harriet Grant) Directed by Lew Landers (#2260 - The Return of the Vampire)

Review: 

You might remember that Universal had done a few horror films based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932) and The Black Cat (1934) had each featured Lugosi, and just like the latter, he co-stars with Karloff for a "adaptation" of The Raven. Apparently, several writers were brought in to try and bring treatments for writing, but only David Boehm would be given credit. The movie isn't really an adaptation of the 1845 poem of the same name by Poe because, well, if you read it, you would know all it involves is a man who sees and hears of a raven that goes "Nevermore" among other various rhymes (interestingly, there was a 1915 film that went by the same name as the poem that merely was a biographical film about Poe himself). It merely is a film where a man really seems to like the works of Poe instead, complete with seeing a solo dance set to a recitation of the story and a torture device straight from "The Pit and the Pendulum". This was the third appearance of Karloff and Lugosi together (eight by the end of the 1940s) after the aforementioned Cat film and Gift of Gab, a musical comedy that probably nobody interested would care about unless they like bit parts; the next film with the two was The Invisible Ray (1936). This was the kind of movie that probably unsurprisingly led to people being weird about horror movies, with one British paper wondering what was behind the movie that was "of "horror" for "horror's" sake", accusing it as nonsense for trying to hide under the Poe inspiration while saying it has no indication of "imaginative control" in story or treatment. This was among the first films directed by Landers, who actually was born Louis Friedlander before he elected to go by Landers for directing later on. Nearly thirty years later, Karloff appeared in the next "adaptation" of the Raven story as part of the Corman-Poe cycle for AIP.

It actually is a pretty neat movie when you get down to it, mostly because its obsessive glee is pretty infectious for such a carefully curated runtime of just 61 minutes. Lugosi gets to eye-ball his way through a movie that is more his show than Karloff's show in the best of ways imaginable for cut-rate spooks. Lugosi gets to have some fun moments involving a considerable ego (he says at one point that he is "a law unto myself") and getting to play a game of cat-and-mouse with Karloff, who gets packed in with some makeup because of the nature of the plan drawn up of obsessive love by way of extortion; the theory of ugly folks going around doing crimes because of said ugly is amusing here, suffice to say. It's funny to compare it with say, Supernatural when it comes to saying just how clearly better one is in doing a movie with enjoyment within a limited body-count potential (this one has one, technically) because it actually feels like there is commitment with one's lead stars to go with a story that runs bold-faced into devotion with no hacky limitations. I like how one can have such a delusion of being a god can go hand in hand with basically being a fan of literary works, particularly one that likes scary moving doors to use on people. Sure, the others besides our duo are merely "fine", but you get madcap enjoyment seeing Lugosi, even with an obvious ending involving beasts liking the sight of happy normal folks. As a whole, it isn't a great Universal horror film, but it does fine with those other Poe films they made and has a worthwhile duo to make a neat curiosity anyway.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Supernatural (1933).

Review #2292: Supernatural.

Cast: 

Carole Lombard (Roma Courtney), Alan Dinehart (Paul Bavian), Vivienne Osborne (Ruth Rogen), Randolph Scott (Grant Wilson), H. B. Warner (Dr. Carl Houston), Beryl Mercer (Madam Gourjan), William Farnum (Nick "Nicky" Hammond), and Willard Robertson (Prison Warden) Directed by Victor Halperin (#274 - White Zombie)

Review: 

"I don't believe in fear, violence, and horror, so why traffic in them?"

Be honest: how many of you can name a horror film in the 1930s that wasn't made by Universal? Sure, there are a handful, such as Victor Halperin's attempts at horror filmmaking in the 1930s, starting with 1932's White Zombie, the cheapie movie that actually used Universal sets. It was Victor Halperin's ninth film as a feature director, having started in 1924 with a variety of dramas and some crime movies, with most of them being collaboration with his brother Edward. The result of the low-budget venture with Bela Lugosi scored him a deal with Paramount Pictures. The result was his second horror film here, as written by Brian Marlow and Harvey Thew as based on a story by Zombie writer Garnett Weston. Halperin directed just two further horror films with Revolt of the Zombies (1936) and Torture Ship (1939) before retiring in 1942; he died in 1983 and judging from the quote, wasn't exactly big on making horror movies (the irony is that they probably are the only reason anyone remembers Halperin).

Most films don't start with title cards of prominent names of Mohammed, Confucius, and Matthew 10:1, but here we are with a clunky suspense movie. It should be noted that Lombard absolutely did not want to do the film, apparently having a low view of horror. This is a movie involving theories about people's strong will even in death and body possession (with thicker makeup!) at the near end of a movie that isn't even 70 minutes long. The movie tries to present a female killer (strangles three men), body possession, fake mediums, spirits around the people, and oh my goodness, pick one idea! This is bottom-of-the-barrel mediocrity, one that only seems to fit the bill of being watched when you wonder just what else there can be for really old movies and "horror" when the word seemed to mean "oh, that one shot sure looked scary" more than anything. Lombard may have been a "swell" actress for timing, but she can only go so far for a movie that has her play puppet for a chunk of its time. Scott actually was a leading man in a variety of genres (including Murders in the Zoo that same year for horror), but one would be forgiven for just associating him as a Western guy, which is basically a way of saying his performance here inspires no notes of positivity. Osbourne is meant to inspire a bit of curiosity (playing the soon-to-be-dead killer) and the third word of that sentence is making a great deal of lifting. Dinehart at least as some huckster spirit in him, when compared to the astonishingly vacant Warner for a movie that begs to have something actually happen. This isn't a plea for a body-count (1 depicted is a count, I suppose?), this is just me stating that having a re-incarnated killer only really works when you have a whole film to make me care. Here, you have a film that only start to try and get interesting in the last 20 minutes, which manages to letdown the last remaining vestiges of hope for something less hammy. As a whole, the one-trick-pony status of Halperin and company in middle-of-the-road curiosity may not have been the biggest success at the time, but you can interpret for yourself what the fuss was about when it comes to the occasional scare (spiritual or not) that could occur for 1930s audiences.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

The Phantom of the Opera (1989).

Review #2291: The Phantom of the Opera.

Cast: 

Robert Englund (Erik Destler, The Phantom of the Opera/Mr. Foster), Jill Schoelen (Christine Day; Nancy Fontana as the singing voice), Alex Hyde-White (Richard Dutton), Bill Nighy (Martin Barton), Stephanie Lawrence (La Carlotta), Molly Shannon (Meg [New York]), Emma Rawson (Meg [London]), Terence Harvey (Inspector Hawkins), Nathan Lewis (Davies), Peter Clapham (Harrison), Yehuda Efroni (The Rat Catcher), and Terence Beesley (Joseph Buquet) Directed by Dwight H. Little (#471 - Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers)

Review: 

The original Phantom of the Opera, if you remember, was originally serialized from 1909 to 1910 by French author Gaston Leroux. The 1925 Universal film is still the most famous adaptation of the novel in film form, even with further renditions in 1943 and 1962 to go along with ones with elements cobbled together (such as say, Phantom of the Paradise [1974]); people have made multiple renditions of turning the novel into a musical, most notably the 1986 attempt by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Really, this popped onto my radar only just this month, much to my amusement. How could I resist the urge to not cover a strange pairing: a rendition of Phantom of the Opera with a few elements of the slasher as played by Robert Englund. You might remember that he became a horror icon with the success of A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) and its subsequent sequels. The movie was a production of 21st Century Film Corporation, which at that time had just seen Menahem Golan (from Cannon Films) become its CEO; the credits do indeed call it a Golan production, one made for roughly $4 million. Gerry O'Hara was behind the script of the film in practice, as his original intent was to have it set all in 1881 England. However, Duke Sandefur was brought in to write segments that would be set in the current day that start and end the film. Amusingly, this wasn't even the only film loosely based on the novel released in 1989, as Richard Friedman's slasher Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge came out in the fall of 1989. The Phantom of the Opera was not a big hit with audiences (who barely had less than a month to even see it!). 21st Century had planned to do a follow-up film called "Terror of Manhattan" (hence the Sandefur-penned elements, and somehow the sequel would've set itself in subterrain New York). While that did not come to pass, they apparently re-worked it for Englund to just star in the direct-to-video slasher Dance Macabre (1992).

So, you get a little bit of singing and a killer among the underground of 19th century England. Little and Englund really wanted to make a "saturated color homage" to the Hammer Phantom of the Opera film and ended up with a muddled mess of a movie that really needed polish. It may be cheap, it may be garish, it may honor something from the Hammer films, but it sure isn't enough to be a winner all the way around the corner. That framing device involving the lines of present-day and 1882 London is clunky in pretty much every way you would expect, particularly since the movie somehow this was going to be one of times where people would clamor for sequels. Either go for the present-day or go for 1882, it just doesn't work to try a bit of both. Schoelen just can't carry the film too particularly well (especially since she doesn't even sing anyway). Sure, you probably couldn't remember who starred opposite Lon Chaney in the 1925 film (Mary Philbin), but there just isn't much to really say about her when it comes to distinct mannerisms beyond puppet and "oh, I guess they don't get the guy". To say nothing of Hyde-White and others is not exactly a compliment. Englund is the one highlight because he does manage to evoke considerable curiosity over what his character is meant to be, since it goes for the "sold his soul to the Devil" angle when it comes to disfigurement (i.e. more slasher and less "Romantic"), complete with having to destroy his music. The phantom has a mask made out of flesh that he likes to adjust from time to time, which is probably the one defining feature besides music for this film, aside from attempts at quips and a bit of slasher stuff. But it never really rises above average for 93 minutes because it never seems to actually commit to something worthy enough for us to latch onto. Englund doesn't have much of a cast to really latch onto, and the opera elements don't really latch onto the viewer as a whole. In total, it is thoroughly mediocre in ways that can't quite win with its aims but you might find something worth looking into if one can look beyond the cheap but endearing aspects of it all.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Cat People (1982).

Review #2290: Cat People (1982). 

Cast: 

Nastassja Kinski (Irena Gallier), Malcolm McDowell (Paul Gallier), John Heard (Oliver Yates), Annette O'Toole (Alice Perrin), Ruby Dee (Female), Ed Begley Jr (Joe Creigh), Scott Paulin (Bill Searle), Frankie Faison (Detective Brandt; dubbed by Albert Hall), Lynn Lowry (Ruthie), and John Larroquette (Bronte Judson) Directed by Paul Schrader.

Review: 

"Cat People wasn’t successful. It really fell between two stools: it was an attempt to have things both ways, which is to have a classy film and a horror film. Well, the horror audience went and said, ‘Hey, this doesn’t look like a horror film, it’s not for us’, and the sophisticated audience went and said, ‘Hey, this is just a horror film.’ So it wasn’t really satisfying to the audience."

Sure, give a few decades and you can just remake a movie right then and there. The 1942 Cat People had been a team effort that had DeWitt Bodeen write the screenplay as based in collaboration with producer Val Lewton, director Jacques Tourneur, and editor Mark Robson. The process of remaking the film was first brought up by Milton Subotsky before Universal Pictures eventually got the rights and made their own push that took several years of the 1970s (Robert Vadim was interested to direct at one point). You might recognize the screenwriter in Alan Ormsby, the co-director and writer of Deranged (1974) and a variety of other writing projects. Universal tapped Paul Schrader (who once labeled the 1942 rendition as one that he didn't find very good) to direct the film, with most knowing him for his work on scripts such as Taxi Driver (1976) before becoming a director with Blue Collar (1978); he claimed that he had contributed to the writing of the film in terms of its prologue and the ending to make it more distinct from the original, although Ormsby claims otherwise. The movie was a mild success with audiences at the time, or at the very least managed to accomplish the goal of not inspiring a filmmaker to try and do their own remake of a remake four decades later. Schrader has been quoted as saying that in his attempts to do a genre film as a "very salutary exercise" in not being about himself, he ended up making a movie that ranked up there as among his most personal.

The funny thing about the films is that it accomplishes one thing in particular: it sure is distinct on its own merit from the original that you won't mistake it as a copy because of its erotic elements within the perils of flesh. You might remember that the original dealt with a woman (played by Simone Simon) who thought they were descended from a tribe of, well, cat people that may or may not turn into black panthers when aroused (it basically had elements of the noir); the lady in that movie went the whole road to marriage without getting kissed. Here we have a woman who must confront the peril of really having a family tradition of were-cats that must kill in order to turn back. It just so happens to involve a few bits of skin and the mix of effects and cats in a movie best described as lurid curiosity for 118 minutes. If you asked me which movie called Cat People is the better among the two, I think I would throw my hands in the air and shrug at it basically being a dead heat because each are from accomplished filmmakers that represent their era quite well in overall enjoyment vs. rewarding the patience of those who are into what it is selling. Kinski practically lifts the film almost entirely to the realm of curious because of how she acts in the film without really even acting that much to begin with (apparently, she seemed to felt manipulated when it came to her assessment of the resulting film). Her grace really does have the instincts of a cat in frenzied timing that sells the plight of flesh. Whether you compare the two films or not, she sure exceeds Simon when it comes to worthwhile lead performances by a handy margin. McDowell may not be in the movie too long, but he sure is loopy enough to belong in weirdo enjoyment that he sells from the word "go", but I say that as someone who went with the film's peddling of ideas right then and there (you really should just see it right then and there rather than skimming the plot). Heard and O'Toole are fine, albeit on a smaller scale that only works some of the time in trying to do a would-be love triangle that only works for those who like the actors enough in the first place; Heard just happens to be the ideal guy to chase a girl like Kinski in strange pursuer/pursued, as opposed to the mild other. Besides, it is quite the curiosity to see Heard having to engage with the climax in a cathouse blues type of way that really will make or break the film for you when it comes to stupendous suspension of disbelief; I dont know if I would call the film "classy", but even "dedicated" is a better way to put it than,  say, "not fun horror". It is a movie that looks and sounds exactly on point of mystical curiosity, never turning itself off even when not going all-out for effects work (you get some blood anyway). As a whole, it is a strange sensual kind of sensationalism that one will either take right in for scintillating enjoyment or baffled disappointment. It feels good to be on the side of the former but have it your way among the creatures of the night.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.