In 2019, watching 31 creepy or campy films in 31 days seemed like a formidable challenge. In 2*2*, the Age of Societally Responsible Binging, I had to whittle down my smorgasbord. Days meant nothing anymore: a Tuesday could easily mean setting up and knocking back a triple feature.
With public spaces lookin’ to this paranoid lad like the DVD cover to The Fog, fictional spooks and startles often failed to make a dent in my default dread. So in the home stretch of this month I leaned on some favorites. Hit the jump to feast on my brain-thoughts.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001)
First official film of the spooky season! Del Toro’s whole thing in the Spanish-language films and Crimson Peak is using the supernatural as the backbone (yep) of the melodrama instead of the main event. I’m not as enchanted by his style as some, but I think this is my favorite of the ones I’ve seen. This is Del Toro and Navarro on a real John Ford’s The Searchers kick, and those Spanish landscapes beyond the school look great.
The Thing (1982)
“If a small particle of this thing is enough to take over an entire organism, then everyone should prepare their own meals. And I suggest we only eat out of cans.”
Whoops, and here I am still ordering takeout.
The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)
Boy, I hope nobody remakes this three times in less than 20 years, that would be so embarrassing!
The Brood (1979)
The “killer little people in red coats” genre is a proud storytelling tradition stretching back from the late 1970’s all the way to the early 1970’s (see Don’t Look Now below).
Sleepy Hollow (1999)
or The Head, She Hollow. Doesn’t hold up to my eyes as well as it once did, unfortunately. Though Burton’s every stylistic impulse seems engaged by the opportunity to channel the Hammer Horror he no doubt grew up with, the rote revenge machinations, florid dialogue, and camp performances raise the question of whether using a blockbuster budget to inflate a pastiche is particularly worth it.
The fun still resides in Depp’s, at-the-time, subversively fey investigator, his fearful twitches and tendency to faint pitched to the people in the back row. He was at the height of his youthful beauty and already sick of playing the People Magazine sex symbol, but a few years off from making bank as a fey pirate and falling into self-parody as a series of fey characters with white stuff on their face.
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)
I haven’t been to a barber since February. *tugging collar* Ggg looks like I made the right choice!
Only Lovers Left Alive (2013)
or Night On Earth 2: Bite Harder. Tilda Swinton lets a documentary crew follow her around.
The Birds (1963)
Far fewer driving and parking scenes than Birdemic, so one could make the argument that this is a better film?
Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)
Cary Grant could have taken over for Curly and Shemp. He’s doing some world-class Stooge work here.
Body Bags (1993)
This was clearly a ‘lil in-joke movie for horror fans, with all the director cameos (Wes Craven, Sam Raimi, Tobe Hooper) and John Carpenter in the lead role as a Cryptkeeper-lite punster in the wraparound segments. Fitfully amusing in that regard.
Let’s Scare Jessica To Death (1971)
or: Let’s Bore Kirk To Death!
Jaws (1975)
My review of this film is that it is Jaws, and to back up all the parallels Twitter people made between the Mayor keeping the beaches open for THE ECONOMY and what we’re going through.
Beetlejuice (1988)
The Blu-ray is one of a few discs in my collection with an isolated music track (in this case, both Elfman’s score and all the Harry Belafonte source cues). I started the movie with music-only audio and subtitles, it sounded great, then I went the extra mile by switching my TV to high-contrast, silver-toned B&W. It may have stepped on the comedy a bit (though of course I’ve seen this enough that my brain fills in Keaton and Catherine O’Hara’s most iconic line readings), but the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari vibes were all over this mother. A recommended Halloween viewing for fans looking for a new way to experience an old favorite.
Videodrome (1983)
I appreciate that Cronenberg’s Canadian films resolutely announce that they take place in Canada— no attempt to pull a fast one on us. We can always tell.
I also appreciate that this is a fleet 88 minutes, so it’s chockablock with greasy, pulsating Rick Baker body horror specials and zero drag.
Woods is perfectly cast as a scuzzy, unscrupulous, lecherous TV development exec (I know, there’s no other kind), but the film falls into the Trippy Cult Film trap of mythology-building that relegates its protagonist into a puppet and a cipher.
Rosemary’s Baby (1968)
Everyone ignores the credible accusations of a beleaguered Mia Farrow to avoid besmirching the reputation of a man who’s a respected New York institution.
I Married A Witch (1942)
Veronica Lake, tho
Dracula (1979)
For a few decades, this was the paragon of swooningly horny Dracula movies, until, according to my unpublished research culled from my millennial lady friends, Gary Oldman’s ‘lil Van Dyke supplanted it.
You can tell they wanted this to be in black-and-white, but Universal chickened out, so they settled for this super-desaturated color version that’s murky and kind of looks like shit.
GOAT John Williams cooks up another instantly memorable ’70s theme that I somehow knew despite never having seen this before!
House of Usher (1960)
Vincent Price was the best at this stuff.
The Crazies (1973)
Me, every few minutes: “Do these people work for the military? Wish the score would give me some kind of audio clue to work it out.”
The score: “I got you! constant looping library music of marching drums“
Don’t Look Now (1973)
I first watched this movie before I’d ever been to Venice and IT DID NOT DISSUADE ME. Ladies, tune in for all the hot Donald Sutherland action you could ever need.
Them (ils, 2006)
A French couple living in a big spooky house in Romania are terrorized by assailants with noisemakers. I have little to say about this one except that it exists. Sound design and performances are quite good, but the story’s paper-thin and the end title aims for “This really happened!” in a very campfire-story silly way. Cut that and you’re better off.
Deep Red (1975)
Argento is a stylist, I get that that’s his appeal. The Goblin music was genuinely unsettling in Suspiria, but whatever they’re doing here is distracting and amusingly dated. The problem that arises from my preoccupation with documentaries and essay films ABOUT movies is that I get spoiled with glimpses of iconic shocks. The “puppet moment,” which relies entirely on visual misdirection and surprise, was neutralized for me.
What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
A few years ago, a friend approached me about collaborating on scripts for a vampire web series. I explained that I was happy to offer guidance, but that frankly, I thought the bloodsucker mythos had been drained bone-dry. Since then I’ve seen Only Lovers Left Alive, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, and this delightfully silly mockumentary, and now I realize that I suffer from a lack of imagination. And also I believe that after these three films, all the new takes on the vampire mythos are covered. Whoops!
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) / Shock Treatment (1981)
Rocky Horror might come across as quaint to a Zoomer-aged Tumblr user (or whatever the uncensored replacement platform is), but for all the overexposure this still comes through like a good-natured lightning bolt in our age of completely neuter blockbusters. Time has collapsed RKO, 50’s b-movies, and the 70’s repertory cult scene into a single bygone era, so that RHPS’s references and subversions are now commingled and indistinguishable from each other.
Shock Treatment is “mine” in the same way Richard O’Brien/Jim Sharman’s earlier film belongs to my mother— each of us discovered the other flick first, and we can appreciate the other but not with the same fervency.
Where RHPS’ musical identity- forged on the stage- draws from the same late-50’s rock n’ roll source as its contemporary Grease, Shock Treatment was written expressly for the screen of 1981, and slots into the early New Wave and “garage sound” that mainstreamed the punk scene. The new Brad and Janet’s voices are rougher and deeper: I don’t think Cliff de Young had ever professionally sung before, while Jessica Harper is continuing her Star On The Rise archetype established in Suspiria and Phantom of the Paradise.
What this film lacks, if you’re comparing it to Rocky Horror (which, don’t bother, its tone and aim is closer to de Palma’s Phantom) is a character/performance as iconic as Tim Curry’s Frankenfurter, and a message of liberation as graspable as “Don’t Dream It, Be It.” Instead, it’s a sardonic little satire about the quest for fame and what is now called “vertical integration.”
Clue (1985)
Wish I were as confident about anything as the writers of this were about opening their film with the “someone stepped in smelly dog doo” runner
House (Hausu, 1977)
This damn thing has been in my queue since Criterion films were only streaming on damn Hulu, and gets added to every watchlist for each new streaming service, without me ever taking the plunge on the Play button. Even this week, when I committed to finally watching, my viewings have been constantly interrupted by late-night droopy eyes syndrome, ill-timed phone calls, the works.
But this month I crossed the finish line, and I’m feeling like a floating decapitated head— fancy-free and searching for a bite to eat.
Unbreakable (2000)
The most suspense I felt watching movies this month? Showing this to a friend that had never seen it, anticipating her reaction. (Spoiler: She nitpicked it from moment one.)
This film is too close to my heart for an accurate or useful review. It, and the James Newton Howard score, has been swirling around my brain for 20 (!) years now, surviving the onslaught of superhero fatigue as Marvel and DC pump out endless product. It’s kept even Nolan’s Bat-films from jostling it out of the top spot for the genre. My affection for it made Sixth Sense retroactively even better, gave critic-armor to Signs, polished the rough edges of The Village, and got me morbidly curious about Split and Glass (the latter is not worth anyone’s time).
“You know what the scariest thing is? To not know your place in this world. To not know why you’re here.”
Shaun of the Dead (2004)
At this many viewings, I have picked up on seemingly all the callbacks and background jokes except the really obvious, not-so-background ones. I finally connected with the setup/punchline of Peter Serafinowicz’s supremely condescending “That’s not too hard, is it? Writing something on a scrap of paper?” and finding that, yes, Ed can in fact use several scraps to spell out “I Am A Prick.” Sometimes we don’t see what’s in front of us. Or taped behind us.
Dawn of the Dead (1978)
First time seeing this in full. It’s free on YouTube in 4K, so the time is right. There’s nothing I could possibly add to the discourse about this (except that it’s a fun time), so enjoy this article about the crazy bright blood in 70’s movies.
An American Werewolf in London (1981)
Re-watching this, I noticed three things that go on for a weirdly long time: the Van Morrison-scored sex scene, the scene of David Naughton watching television, and John Landis’ career after murdering those people.
Suspiria (2018)
Sorry, I live for this shit. Drizzly gray cities haunted by the specter of mass death? Scheming and infighting among ancient witches? A “sleeper must awaken” story with swelling Thom Yorke accompaniment? Stark and gorgeous dream sequences cut with truly nerve-rattling sound design? Grotesque practical effects perfectly integrated with CG? Ari Aster could never.
Halloween (1978)
Let’s all go to the drive-in
Let’s all go to the drive-in
Let’s all go to the drive-innnnn
And breathe our separate air!
