A JOURNAL OF FEAR
October is here, the month of Halloween! Why a month? To commemorate / celebrate / prepare for the end of life (Summer) and the coming of death (Winter). Each day this month I will be watching a horror film and writing about it here in A JOURNAL OF FEAR! The films will range from classic to obscure to silly, all as a way to explore what it is about the terrifying, the macabre, the dark that attracts me so. I hope you find what I have to say interesting and maybe enlightening as I reflect on these films. They were chosen in no particular order other than availability, interest, and the input of my fellow death enthusiasts!
Ok here we go, Week 3 of A JOURNAL OF FEAR has arrived!! You can go read Week 1 and 2, plus last year’s entries, here!
This is getting hard, and that is not helped by having a crazy weekend. My wife is becoming a Pastor, or rather is now a Pastor, as we traveled to Illinois this past week for her ordination. Which was a beautiful service, and I love that I am not married to a Reverend. The difficult part was watching and writing about movies while we were away. It was difficult, to say the least. In fact, my time was so chaotic, I not only did not complete what I would consider a full week, I almost forgot a movie. I watched it, but the amazing Boardinghouse almost did not make it in this week. I want to say I was so blown away by it that I simply had no idea what to write, but it simply fell off my radar. You would think, with my second year knocking this out, I would have a system. I almost did, I swear. It has fallen apart though and I am significantly behind on everything. This weekend is the Exhumed Films 24 Hour Horrorthon, and I am seriously hoping I can watch a bunch of movies BEFORE that eats my entire weekend. I know, I am a crazy person. Whatever. I will of course be covering as well as going to the Horrorthon, some of which you can here on the latest episode of Cinepunx! So, what that means is that you can expect a much shorter journal next week. Tentative schedule follows:
10/19 Street Trash
10/20 Body Bags
10/21 Pin
10/22 The Changeling
10/23 Bay Of Blood
10/24 (well actually I will leave this one blank and decide based upon YOUR suggestions in the comments)
I am glad you’ve come back; that my strange ramblings have amused you enough for you to return. This week I saw a unique assortment of movies. Two different ones had very Catholic themes but I did not use the in to talk about religion. Well, not that much. The Devils got me really rambly, and I am not sure all of it is relevant. My feeling is, start reading it, if it bums you out skip, no love lost. I was amazed by one movie, Boardinghouse, in a way I had not expected. No massive disappointments here, and mostly good vibes so that is great. I did screw up my schedule a little bit, so forgive me for that please. Thanks! Read on, and try not to tremble to uncontrollably with fear!
10/12 THE BATTERY
The Battery is available from Amazon here!!
OFFICIAL PLOT SYNOPSIS
The personalities of two former baseball players clash as they traverse the rural back roads of a post-plague New England teeming with the undead.
I have a bit of a love/hate relationship to the zombie film as a genre. In the love dept, I mean, what do I really need to say? I have watched Dawn of the Dead more than almost any other horror film. It was the first horror film, I think, that I really cared about as a work of art. Not to claim it is the most artistic film, but I did care about it as more than entertainment. Zombi 2 is how I feel in love with Fulci, and got me interested in Euro horror in a way I was not previously. Even Night of the Living Dead as one of the first horror films I owned in the home, and it disturbed me at a deep and meaningful level at a very young age. It was a real nightmare, and it is still so powerful. On the hate side, I mean same thing, what do I really have to say? It is not just how ubiquitous they are, or how formulaic recent Zombie films have become. It is also, for me, the extent to which current zombie efforts seem to miss the hook of those early zombie films. Zombies are not that scary in and of themselves. Dead people who want to eat you, it’s fine, but it is not like that horrifying. These films often used the zombies as a catalyst to get at other things, sometimes directly, sometimes metaphorically. They are terrifying because of what they represent, or how many there are, or how they are us and we cannot escape becoming them, or they just remind us how inhuman we are really. There is, to be honest, also a feeling like “OK, enough already” but there is still space to come out and do it right.
The Battery is one of those films which is playing the classics, but doing it in such a unique way, it reminds you why you love it. In that sense, The Battery is actually a quintessential zombie film. It uses the zombie apocalypse to point away from itself, to us, to the viewer, to force us to ask ourselves how we would be in this situation. This move is brilliant, and it really carries the whole movie. The film was shot for only $6k, and it stars the writer and director Jeremy Gardner and to be honest some of the limits of the production show. Not so much in the performances, Gardner plays one of two friends who are navigating the zombie apocalypse together. Ben and Mickey are former baseball playes, the pitcher and catcher specifically (Battery, get it?) who now, in the zombie ridden world, are trying to survive. Their dynamic really carries the entire film. This duo is so different, and we see both their conflict and their affection as they try to survive. This dynamic fuels this small film, and others come in contact with them, but the film is focused on them and their relationship.
The limited budget is mostly overcome by this very scaled down story, though there are some rough edges. The film is not overflowing with zombies, not that it needs to be, but even some of the attacks are limited because of that. The zombie makeup is not great, but not terrible. I mean look, the film is obviously not going to be a massive zombie apocalypse with such a limited budget. What I am trying to tell you though, is how little that matters. I really think The Battery is brilliant in how unconventional it is. This unconventional story telling, letting the zombie apocalypse really be a catalyst for other questions and explorations, really is well within the tradition of zombie films. That is not to say that, let’s say Zombi 2 for example, is some sort of complicated character study. However, when we have seen the zombie attack in so many ways and situations, doesn’t it make sense to see a slightly different story? The Battery is very much about the world after, the kind of people we would be if everything is taken away. Thus, I think the limitations help the film so much. They don’t need big battles or brutal kills to tell the story they want to tell. The Battery is not a huge film, but it is so inspiring for letting the story telling carry it.
The Battery inspires some deep reflection, while it is not particularly a deep film. What makes sense in this scenario? Ben adjusts to this new world, and is able to be the kind of person who can survive. Mickey though cannot adjust, he wants to, in some sense, recreate the world he knew. I am inclined, in the world of the film, to identify with Ben. Ben makes sense. Ben can survive. However, would I be anything like Ben? I fear I am Mickey, unwilling to face the dissolution of our society. I see society, to often, as the absolute which must be maintained. Withing the context of the film, Mickey seems dysfunctional. Yet, if there was a new society a new world to create, would Ben or Mickey be better suited? In fact, can most of us really say we could face such cataclysmic change and really let go of what feels comfortable and familiar? Is it fair to say I don’t believe I would? Whatever the case, The Battery may not explode with action or gore, it certainly reminds us why zombie films matter so much: because of what we see about ourselves reflected in these tales of our shambling doppelgangers.
10/13 INNOCENT BLOOD
If you want it, you can grab Innocent Blood here!
OFFICIAL PLOT SYNOPSIS
Marie has two appetites, sex and blood. Her career as a vampire is going along fine until two problems come up, she is interrupted while feeding on Sal (the shark) Macelli and she begins to develop a relationship with the policeman who has been trying to put Sal away. Sal wakes up in the morgue very confused and very thirsty. He goes back to his old haunts and begins to create an organized crime family of vampires while Marie and her policeman lover hunt him.
I think I really liked Innocent Blood because it was such a total surprise. I had no idea what to expect from this movie, a John Landis Vampire/Mob movie starring Anne Parillaud from La Femme Nikita. Also featured are Don Rickles, Anthony Lapaglia, Chaz Palminteri, Robert Loggia, Tony Sirico, Kim Coates, Angela Basset, Tom Savini, Frank Oz, and Sam Raimi. Wait, what the hell is this movie? Oh yeah, and it is filmed in Pittsburgh, exposing what I had no idea existed: an organized crime problem in Pittsburgh. No, really, this is real, and it is kind of a comedy. Don Rickles explodes. This movie made me feel like I was on drugs.
To be fair, there is a lot about this film to be critical of. It is somehow overly long while never really exploring all the cool setups of vampire mobsters. Parillaud’s voiceover is tiresome, and Anthony LaPaglia is stiff as a board. The film is too goofy to reach the real creepy moments of a Landis film like American Werewolf, but it is never as funny as that movie. There is some gore, and, from what I have read, there is an even more gore filled European version that I was unable to find. The gore, though, is only occasionally intense. The vampire aspects of the film are not that original, and, in many scenes, the characters are watching vampire films, which is at first cute but eventually boring. I am talking a lot of trash, but understand, none of this ruined the movie for me. It is in fact such a ridiculous silly premise, with just enough awesome performances, that I was on board for it. Is it dumb? Yeah, dumb and never quite scary. It is also, however, a lot of fun, and though it is largely a failure as a mixed genre exploration, where it succeeds it really succeeds.
I don’t often say this, but this is a movie that is asking for a remake. Of course, that is not how remakes work. We remake properties that are already successful, trying to leach their popularity unto a property that we fear will not make it on its own. However, how it should work is talented film makers return to ideas that are not bad but somehow miss the mark. There is enough here to create a cool film. This one just misses it by enough to be frustrating. It spends so much time establishing the premise that the idea never gets to crash around and be. This film may be too long, but it needs a little more space, or a different focus. Again, all that said, I found myself entertained and laughing through most of the movie.
10/14 THE DEVILS
The Devils can be yours here!!
OFFICIAL PLOT SYNOPSIS
In 17th-century France, Father Urbain Grandier seeks to protect the city of Loudun from the corrupt establishment of Cardinal Richelieu. Hysteria occurs within the city when he is accused of witchcraft by a sexually repressed nun.
Oh wow! The Devils is possibly one of the most controversial movies of all time, and understandably so. Ken Russell’s film explores a story of religious corruption and hysteria in a most extreme manner. The film is based in some part on the Aldous Huxley book The Devils of Loudun, itself a historical account of demon possession in France. The historical veracity of both the book and the movie seem of dubious to me, but I am no historian. I do think it is fair to assume that some aspects of the movie are dramatized and not meant to be a literal representation of historical events. Then again, I have no actual idea. This matters only in that I guess I am approaching this material unsure of how over the top it really is. The events depicted in the film are of such a scandalously sacrilegious nature, at one point nuns infamously humping a life sized crucifix. But the events of this time period are in reality so notoriously ridiculous that I have no idea what to make of this depiction. It doesn’t matter, really, but only to say The Devils for me is a film I want to respond to by thinking about the purpose it serves. Its historicity is not really important to my enjoyment of the movie, but somehow if it is more or less historical I can then maybe explain the extremity of it? This is perhaps the worst inclination I can have toward the movie, to tame it and make it more palatable; that somehow I can find a defense for it and make it easier for you to handle. This film takes sacrilege through sexuality to new heights. It is also amazing, one of the best movies I have ever seen.
The Devils is amazing to some extent because, at its most basic level, it is a historical drama. I cannot vouch for the exact veracity of its historical details, but I can affirm that far more of it is believable than one might think. Church history is embarrassingly filled with stories like this, manipulation and corruptions of power. The Devils spills from dramatic narrative into the realm of the horror film because it is so extreme. Dealing with issues of life and death, with the possibility of the supernatural even as it is clear we are dealing with a material world, is resonant with horror films. The Devils reminds us that history, in and of itself, is horrifying. We don’t need to tell spooky stories in the dark in order to frighten ourselves because we as people are filled with horror. Our own story is terrifying. The reason this genre bending works so well, for me, is largely due to the performances. Oliver Reed is impressive as Grandier, a flawed and human priest. As he goes from tortured and doubtful priest to possibly changed man, certainly one willing to sacrifice for his beliefs, he really sells the depths of this character. Grandier is somehow both a scoundrel in his treatment of women and a hero as he is inspired by the town he loves and the woman whom he comes to love. Reed can come across as stiff, but this I think portrays the complexity of Grandier’s vanity, that while he is inspired to great works, he is still a proud person. This does nothing at all to eliminate my feelings of inspiration for him at all; his flaws allow his nobility to shine that much more.
Similarly, Vanessa Redgrave’s portrayal of Sister Jeane is a synthesis of the utterly disturbing and yet the strangely sympathetic. This may be affected to some extent by my study of the sorts of gender and theological issues which might bring her character to this point. I guess, as someone who has studied it, I should make some argument for nunneries as not all sexually repressed depositories for a society’s unwanted women. Clearly, The Devils is playing with one stereotype, but it is not an uncommon one, even if it does not define the experience. Redgrave’s performance is powerful, reaching insane heights when that is needed, creating much of the “horror” of the film through her character, while also playing those few sympathetic moments with such force as to make me doubt my hatred toward the woman. I want to see her often as the villain, but that is certainly not the case. She is the product both of circumstance and a corrupt system, and I think Russell is very intentional in showing us this. This follows Russell’s entire premise; he wants to show us these characters as they would be, affected by what he sees as their insane superstition, but still people we could relate to. They are not themselves all, though some are, insane. Yet they are products of the giant forces and ideas around them, and I believe Russell wants the audience to know it is this church which is more than circumstantially responsible for the horror unfolding before us.
The Devils is a difficult movie to write about because of its extremity, the way that the spectacle is so overwhelming and visceral. The film tells its story from several different angles, so that it is not only about politics or religion or sexuality. I think this is where I find myself partially hung up on the historicity of the film because here may be both my highest praise and my only critique. Russell does an amazing job not only bringing forth the obvious ways this film might tell a story as relevant to 1971 or today as it was in the 1700s. He does that by allowing us to see the humanity of Grandier as well as the nobility. Russell shows us his flaws, but also his integrity. He highlights the political corruption, and the manipulation of power. He also shows the religious corruption, which does not simply succumb to power and greed, but is already present. In other words. The Devils is not only about a church seduced by secular authority, though it is. It is also a story of secular authority making the best possible manipulation of horrifying church doctrine. This manipulation is shown both as effective and destructive. It is also thus addressing the human condition, the ways that our own self denial and repression might serve our identity in unhealthy ways. It manages, of course, to do this with a healthy dose of violence, nudity, and sex. The film is still, as far as I can tell, firmly an exploitation film. I mean all of that as compliment. My critique is that some of the subtlety of the story is lost not only to the spectacle, which I can accept. It is also clear that Russell wants us to condemn every aspect of the church that we can. In that way I am curious if Grandier is as modern as he is presented here. He is human, and he is clearly seeking to be more human. He also has a moment of redemption, of change, of feeling like there is meaning for him. I cannot tell, from how it is presented, if this is supposed to represent a real experience or simply a different form of self delusion.
Doesn’t really matter though. The film is as powerful as it is insane. It scandalizes and it is unclear whether any of that extreme imagery is really essential in order to tell this story. Each moment, for me, never lost me or had me feeling so put off that I was outside the story. Instead, the heightening levels of orgiastic insanity made me fall all the more in love with the film. The Devils seems, to me, to perfectly marry actual drama with the most exploitative excess it can, and makes itself work on both levels. I still am not sure if the film exists in its full version anywhere, as it was subject to every form of censorship one could imagine. I did, however, acquire the DVD version with many of the cut scenes edited back in. It was so beyond anything I could have expected, I am not even sure what to write about it. That feels like a cop-out, but I mean it in the sense that what I saw is difficult to process on a first watch. I am, myself, a religious person of some kind. My ideas tend to fall outside what most would consider orthodoxy, but still I feel like I am, in a broad sense, a Christian. The film did not offend me in the traditional sense; I was not angry at all. It was, though, extreme in many ways beyond anything I could have expected, and I am unsure what to think about that let alone say. In that way, the film is amazingly effective at creating tension with things I care about. I am not Catholic nor particularly traditional, so I have no horse in the race when it comes to protecting the institutional structures of church. In other words, what do I have to even be offended about. Yet, Russell still manages to disturb with these intense images, specifically the orgiastic hysteria of the nuns as they play into the demands of the exorcist as to what possessed women would be like. I feel at this moment some of what you would expect, that is remorse at the betrayal befalling Grandier, and amazement at both the corruption and conviction of those orchestrating this charade. Yet I also find myself somehow both amazed at the images, and amazed at myself for not being offended by them. In other words, I should not be surprised that as a modern person I am not deeply disturbed at some level by this portrayal. I am, though I am scandalized less by Russell than by my own acceptance of what I am seeing.
Of course, by making this narrative so salacious, Russell to some extent does not show respect for the story. But how much does that really matter? Ebert wrote one of his notoriously sarcastic reviews of this film, specifically focusing on how NOT edgy it was to portray something so far into our past in such a scandalous manner. Why did this narrative need to be told in this way? Oddly, Ebert’s sarcastic condemnation actually made me feel more comfortable with what I was seeing. Look, this narrative may feel distant to some folks, a relic of a distant and almost alien past. As someone who has studied church history, this narrative feels near to me. So I felt as if maybe the scandalous nature of the film, with its extremities of nudity and corruption, while immensely entertaining, was somehow disrespectful to the folks whom the film represents. This, I acknowledge, is an utterly ridiculous concern. When I watch any modern slasher film which is supposedly based upon actual events, my concern for these real life victims is zero. However, this is the kind of film The Devils is for me; it is an event and one of the ways I wrestle with that event is by thinking about many associated issues in the narrative itself. So I found myself thinking about the women who, because of the power and authority of this patriarchal church, felt forced to give in to a hysterical performance of something they were not experiencing. Surely these women deserved a representation of their story which was extreme, but also realistic. Ebert’s sarcasm helped me see how irrational that was and just accept what I was seeing, which is in many ways an id-fueled attack upon the institutional church itself. Yes, it is also titillating and exploitative in the best possible way. Russell succeeds in telling his story in such insane way while still allowing his point, a deep skepticism about political and ecclesial power, to shine through. It is as inspiring as it is deeply troubling.
In one sense, beyond being entertained or scandalized, what this film reminds me of is how deeply complicated fundamentalism is. I am not sure what skeptical point Russell seeks to make by having his inquisitors often both detached in their manipulation and yet seemingly committed in their beliefs. It is perhaps that deep conviction can often overcome integrity, such that honesty itself can become a tool to use on and off to defend ideology. I wonder, though, if it is this allowance, this winking acceptance that even truth needs manipulation to defend itself, that defines fundamentalisms of various kinds. To put it another way, fundamentalism is not itself made real by what it demands of you, but by what it allows. These men, in their manipulation of power and gender and belief, are enforcing their fundamentalism in the very ways they are allowed to break it. See Zizek on this one, the idea that it is not the rules but the allowed transgressions that define fundamentalist and fascist movements. I do lament, though, that the film does not focus as much on the ways gender is an essential element of this power dynamic. Gender is at root here, and while it is inevitably a part of this movie, the movie is not about that. How could it be? It is an explosion of exploitative passion, a scandalous romp that is horrifying but also clearly gleeful in its horror. I do not want deep gender analysis from The Devils. But if that element were even slightly more present, the film might more perfectly marry something deep to something powerfully scandalous.
10/16 PHENOMENA
You too can experience the Phenomena HERE!
OFFICIAL PLOT SYNOPSIS
A young girl, with an amazing ability to communicate with insects, is transferred to an exclusive Swiss boarding school, where her unusual capability might help solve a string of murders.
I have written and spoken about Dario Argento a lot in the past. So I will try not to belabor the point here anymore than to say I am a fan but I also worry that he is too highly overrated. For example, while I have a begrudging love of the film Inferno, it is certainly not particularly frightening. In fact, it rides a wave of just enough strangeness that is entertaining even when the movie itself is mostly incoherent. That sounds harsh, but it is actually a good lead-in to Phenomena. Phenomena is very possibly the last Argento film that I find watchable, and it is the one he has often claimed as his favorite. I am pretty sure MY favorite is still Suspiria, but what do I know? Phenomena has some of the weirdest stuff I have seen in an Argento movie, while also representing maybe the most coherent narrative of any of his films. It has momentum, and it carries that momentum without resorting too heavily to atmospheric aspects. It is also one of the few Argento films where interior design does not carry a large burden of trying to scare us. Is that unfair? There are certainly a lot of Argento type elements, from the soundtrack to the woman crashing through glass. However, while the plot is not necessarily sensical (it goes all over the place), it is still driving. Jennifer Connelly does not meander in crimson rooms being creeped out; things happen and she responds directly. Yet, as I said, it maintains in such a strong way the Argento craziness, throwing a million elements at you, unafraid to make some of the most interesting ideas work.
The film is for me almost entirely about Jennifer Connelly and Donald Pleasence. Not that the film couldn’t work without them, but their performances are the only ones that have any real impact for me. The rest of the cast, almost entirely, feel like random European folks. The exceptions of course are the mutant child and his mother. Even her role is not that impressive, but she at least stands out. However, Jennifer Connelly stands out even if at times her performance is not perfect. Pleasence, on the other hand, remains one of my favorite incoherent and very likely drunk actors ever. While Connelly at times feels almost too respectable for this material, amazing as she hadn’t done much before this, Pleasence can always go seedier. He has some strange moments in this film, but he never gets to unleash pure insanity. He is very much himself, and his accent is stellar, almost a character in and of itself. His performance is part of my issue here. For me Argento, prior to this film, is not a director I laugh at.
In a larger sense I have a real issue with ironic detachment film watching. We associate this kind of appreciation of art as “hipster” but I have issues with that as a shorthand for all of this behavior. Regardless of the source, if you live anywhere but Austin and are a film geek, chances are you have at least once gone to see a movie you really love only to have utter dickbags giggling through the entire thing because who knows why? I recently went to a screening of Total Recall, a movie with some real laughs too, where idiots giggled through THE ENTIRE MOVIE! I was enraged. All that to say, I do not ONLY enjoy movies I find legitimately good. Sometimes a movie is ridiculous, and yet still so entertaining. The deal for me is that sometimes a movie can be ridiculous, AND BAD, and I enjoy the experience of sitting through it. The thing about Phenomena is that it walks a line for me. I enjoy the movie, but I do not take it as seriously as any of Argento’s previous films. It feels comparably silly to me. Yet, I enjoy it. I guess I am still in conflict about why I enjoy a movie that I do not think is good. Phenomena is not bad. However when ridiculous things happen, I accept them. I accept them because I am not invested in the movie as a dramatic work. It is also why I want Pleasence to play it louder and chew the scenery a bit. Argento loses me some with this movie, and I never really get back on board again.
Phenomena is still an amazing film, but my favorite aspects of the film have nothing to do with fear. Connelly as bug psychic is some crazy pants stuff. There is such a weird 80s New Age feel to the film, even to the name. It as if Argento was suddenly into crystals when he was making this. The film features the best use of a chimp in a film ever, including one of the most amazing endings I have ever seen. The killer in the film, whichever one you want to focus on, is a little underwhelming. A lot of the fascination of the film is more about Connelly and her abilities, and the killer exists to some small aspect just for her to explore those powers. Yet, at the same time, the powers are used less than I would have expected for a movie so fascinated with them. I guess that is not really my huge issue; my issue may be more this entire set up. Look, I love some movies that do this, like Dream Warriors, BUT OVER ALL horror movies in which the victim fights back with some sort of equal power are always difficult for me to enjoy. This is especially true in franchise films, but Phenomena does this as well. Inevitably these fighting back victims take center stage, and the source of fear becomes nothing more than a plot device. This inevitably makes me feel bummed out. There are some exceptions of course, but in so many cases they don’t work well for me. Phenomena is almost like that, and is only saved for me by its utter craziness.
10/17 NIGHTMARE CITY
You can freak out to Nightmare City HERE!
Just like last week on House of Usher, I teamed up with my main man Nick Spacek to write about Nightmare City. Nick already got this up, because he is better at life than me, on his blog Rock Star Journalist! Enjoy!
Nick Spacek
It takes a few moments for Nightmare City to get going. Ironically enough, the first five minutes or so are spent setting up the plot of a nuclear exposure, and introducing the reporter covering the the story. Considering that the remainder of the film’s running time gets spent making not one lick of sense at all, it seems like director Umberto Lenzi’s looking to justify everything that will follow.
There’s been a bit of discussion regarding whether or not Lenzi meant this to be a commentary on the dangers of nuclear power and war. Given that the creatures are irradiated, I can somewhat see that point, but the war metaphor stands up far better to scrutiny: mindless creatures, killing effectively; and to really stop them, you have to destroy their brain. Something’s definitely being said about the illogical nature of war. It’s a point muddled by a disjointed film, but it’s certainly there, if you’re willing to look.
Regarding the disjointed film: you’re never quite certain as to what exactly these creatures are. Traditionally, zombies are either supernatural creatures or the result of some science gone sideways — reanimated corpses or plague victims maddened by sickness, and rarely do the twain meet.
In this case, Lenzi’s given us radioactive victims who are out for blood, but also creatures who can spread their infection. It’s like they’re nuclear zombie vampires, and, even more confusingly, while zombies are usually mindless, these creatures use guns, knives, chains, axes, spear guns, and all manner of weaponry with great skill, while also shambling silently. Again: no real logic.
The plot’s a mess, the makeup’s pretty rough, the special effects are banal, and the dubbing’s emotionally flat: these are all things I knew, having seen the film before. Then why the hell did I buy it? There’s a strange sort of charm to Nightmare City. It throws all manner of apocalyptic tropes into a blender and flings them onto the screen with wild abandon, and that’s really the appeal. Having no idea what to expect keeps you watching, and the complete lack of coherent narrative allows for all manner of interpretation with each successive viewing.
Liam:
I can see what you mean by the “mess” of Nightmare City. Sure, at the very least the internal logic of irradiated people who thus become blood thirsty murderers is an odd setup to say the least. I loved this movie though. This was actually a first time watch for me, and once I accepted that there was no back story and just constant violence, I was sold on the film. Constant attacks, constant action, and a complete lack of sentimentality. I mean, let me start at the beginning: I am possibly in love with Hugo Stiglitz. I fell in love thanks to Exhumed Films (link) and their showing of the amazing Night of a Thousand Cats. Stiglitz is his usual amazing self in this film, and by amazing I mean the embodiment of 70’s manhood. He is perhaps a little stiff in Nightmare City, his character is a little more respectable here and less over the top. No matter, he is exactly who I would want shepherding me through this irradiated wasteland of gooey-faced murderers.
OK, now that I think about it, the things in this movie make no sense. They can fight like rational, decision making creatures. They drive cars, use guns, but then at key moments they act exactly like mindless zombies. If I were concerned with some sort of world building or mythology, this film would bum me out. Why do I love it so much? My assumption is because how simply ridiculously over the top it is. Every character can bite it at any time, and the story is really just a series of violent attacks. If I were to think about it too deeply, I could hate this movie. There is no reason to connect with or care about any of these characters. There is no sex appeal, lots of post-murder nudity, and no one is interesting at all. I didn’t find myself bothered by any of that. I just went along for the ride, and all I could think was how much I would like to see this exact same film but with better special effects and a slightly more kinetic director.
Nick:
Strange question, but is there some sort of European rule that says there has to be some sort of dance sequence? It seems like Bava, Lenzi, and Argento all have to work in something involving dance. Maybe it’s just an effective bit of shorthand for “beauty destroyed by ugliness.” Either that, or spandex just makes a more effective reason for showing T&A. That said, there’s something vaguely creepy about how many women get killed, then have their shirts torn open.
Liam:
Yeah, I mean I get it. The plot moves at a pace that doesn’t really allow room for things like sex scenes, or even a shower. This being a Euro horror flick, there needs to be nudity of some kind. So, murder nudity. OK. Whatever. It freaked me out as well. At this point, watching Italian horror and worrying about gender issues is not something I can even imagine. Stiglitz has spent many of his films smacking various hysterical women, and that is something I have come to terms with. Nightmare City is no different. I agree about the dancing, but I wonder if this is a time and place thing. The 70’s, what is this, 1979? The 70’s in Europe were certainly well within the thrall of disco and all that entails. I am sure these dance sequences are entirely necessary for these directors to feel like they are making hip, relevant films.
What I am utterly confused by is the following: Is this in some sense a zombie film? You started off that way and I just accepted that as a marker by which to understand this movie. I think many people would, including this movie within the realm of films like Zombi, and I mean, why is that? These things are certainly NOT zombies, right? It never claims they are. However, I have always thought of Nightmare City as a kind of zombie movie, and many have discussed it as such. Why do you think that is? I also think this movie in many ways is the movie World War Z wants to be. Is that fair?
Nick:
I think it’s considered a zombie film, for lack of any other sort of descriptor. When you have mindless hordes in some form of decomposition, it’s an easy term you can latch on to. They’re described by the military during that wonderfully expository sequence as radiation victims, so that’s essentially what they are, but given that they display so many signs of autonomy and intelligence, one should probably call them something like mutants. Honestly, the next nearest analogue, when you really think about it, would be something like a C.H.U.D.
What I’m seeing here is that both you and I agree that the movie’s appealing because of its lack of explanation or exposition, and I’m curious as to whether you think that’s part of the appeal of European horror movies of this era: is the emphasis on look, mood, and universally-understandable things like sex and violence that make them so appealing, even after so many years?
Liam:
I mean look, sometimes a lack of exposition is an artistic decision to ignore things that would simply hold back an engaging atmospheric film. I recently made the claim that the most appealing part of It Follows was the refusal of the info dump, that is you know what is happening but the why, in the sense of back story, is considered superfluous. That is not what we mean here though, is it? Some of these European films have no back story and I think it is because they just didn’t write one. Nightmare City has all the exposition it feels it needs, these are radiation victims who, for some insane reason need blood. What is crazy about this setup is that it is certainly enough info to decide that the movie is dumb, but not enough to feel like you understand why anything is happening. You are right, this sort of film from this era has this happen quite often. Characters? Let’s just settle for caricatures or stock folks. Plot? Look, there is danger, and now people are dying! I do think that is part of the appeal now though. While we could attack these films for their lack of depth, they still are often made with more visual flair and directing talent than even some of the biggest films from the US.
Do you think it is the artistic flair, the sort of visual intelligence of these films, that makes their fans so close to artistic film fans? I mean think, about folks who love obscure art films and people who love obscure Euro horror films. They are not often the same exact fans, but there is often some crossover. Even when these movies are totally ridiculous, I don’t often find myself laughing at them because they still affect me. Is it the visual strength of these movies the reason why they sit with us and appeal to so many different people?
Nick:
I think the visual intelligence of European horror films is what makes them so appealing to fans who don’t even like horror. Actually, I’ve found that people who are super-into American horror really despise Italian horror films, simply because they can’t get a handle on what’s going on. Personally, I’ve grown to love weird Slovenian art film, simply because you just watch and enjoy. You lose yourself in the visuals presented, and let them take you where they go, without worrying what it’s all about.
Given that the visuals of the film are so strong, you don’t need a plot. Who cares why, when there’s so much to look at? Honestly, what’s absolutely great about these films is the fact that you could turn off the sound, watch them almost silently, and still find something about which to enthuse.
Liam:
I don’t want to overstate my case here, these directors are not Fellini or whatever. By the same token, Nightmare City is not The Beyond. Fulci had his own visual genius, and I think you can defend some of his most insane films, regardless of how the plots may not always seem coherent. I will say, though, that American films do too often rely solely on story and dialogue in a medium that is very much a visual one. How many sick American films, horror or not, still look shoddy? How few capitalize not only on the strength of their story telling but also captivate their audience with gorgeous visuals? Like any art, Film has a visual vocabulary, and filmmakers should have a way to communicate with use beyond the words their characters say or the events they participate in. This is, of course, arguing way too much for a film like Nightmare City, which is in many ways a surprisingly compelling cash grab. Clearly, this movie exists because of the popularity of horror films like this, and whatever it has to show us is simply that self serving capitalism and effective filmmaking can coexist. However, it is still very Italian, and for me the Italians are more commonly visual directors, who realize that images can be as moving as ideas or story. Nightmare City is the least obvious example of this sort of filmmaking, as I suspect it was an attempt at a more visceral action film. But even in its shallow depths it manages some far more powerful images than comparable American films.
10/16 BOARDINGHOUSE
If you would like to risk a stay at the Boardinghouse you can grab a copy here.
This write-up will have to be short and sweet because, I am honestly not sure what to say about this movie. What can I say that can reflect the strangeness of it to you more than simply tell you to watch it? I think it is possible for me to begin too many of these write-ups in a state of utter amazement, and thus lessen the effect of each one. However, Boardinghouse is one of the weirdest movies I have ever seen. It is the only film John Wintergate ever made, and, having watched it, I think that is a good thing. Boardinghouse is shot entirely on video, and, according to the Wikipedia page, that decision was made because “somebody at the studio read George Lucas was shooting on video.” To call this movie low budget is to be generous. To call Boardinghouse a movie is perhaps to be generous. Yet, if you, like me, are someone who can delve in with both feet when a film just goes batshit insane, then you may love this.
Boarding House is like a haunted house/slasher/telekinesis movie with lots of unnecessary nudity. Yeah, that about sums it up. It looks like a a movie filmed on video, possibly over a series of weekends, and it flows like that as well. Scenes cut for no reason; characters are difficult to distinguish from other characters even when they take their clothes off; the kills are nonsensical. In the world of Boardinghouse one creates a bachelor pad by having 9 beautiful female tenants, and then halfheartedly hitting on all of them. One can easily learn how to harness telekinetic powers by checking a few books out of the library. Also, there is an incest back story. In fact, I am not going to describe the nutty twists and turns of this below B movie, because, despite all of that, I want you to see it. Boardinghouse is so off the wall and weird, I forgive it the terrible… well, everything. I was so amused by this movie, and amazed at the insane heights it was willing to go to, I felt like it was well worth seeing.
Now when I say it is bad, I have to admit, it is really bad. So why recommend it? Sometimes things are so bad, but so earnest in their attempt to be great, that I can’t help but find them charming. Yes, I am laughing at Boardinghouse‘s Scanners-esque finale and its many many scantily clad kind of attractive ladies. It is so ridiculous. Yet, I am laughing at it in a way that is about encouraging the effort. I want more films like this, and I want them more than ever.
10/18 THE EXORCIST III
If you do not already own it, you should probably get the complete The Exorcist Anthology here.
OFFICIAL PLOT SYNOPSIS
Lt. Kinderman and Father Dyer cheer each other up on the anniversary of the death of their mutual friend, Father Damien Karras, by going to see “It’s a Wonderful Life” at the local theater in Georgetown, near Washington D.C. But there’s no cheering Kinderman while a particularly cruel and gruesome serial killer is at large. His murders, which involve torture, decapitation, and the desecration of religious icons, is bad enough; but they also resemble those of the Gemini Killer, who has been dead for fifteen years.
I have generally held to the belief that any of The Exorcist sequels are bad, obviously, and therefore not worth my time. That being said, I still have watched a few of them. The Heretic is just bad, but in such a silly way that I have always enjoyed watching it. Granted, it is one of those few movies that even as a kid I knew was bad, but I have never held that against it. It is certainly not a frightening movie, but it is still one I can put on and chill out to. Granted, I haven’t tried to watch it in over a decade, but who cares. The Exorcist III, on the other hand, I watched once in my teenage years and simply wrote off. It has some effective scares, but is boring overall. I was wrong. Yes, it has its flaws. Knowing the history as I do now, I think Blatty does the best he can with the forced exorcism reshoot ending. His original film had no Father Morning character, and all of his scenes as well as the ending feel wedged into the movie in a really awkward way. There is a bit more chatting in the film than actual scares, but the scares that are here range from effective to bone chilling. It is a bit of a messy film, but I think it is also ambitious and succeeds way more than it fails. In fact, I cannot be certain but I suspect a director’s cut, without studio meddling, would be a damn fine film.
Personally, I feel like George C. Scott is a bit of a handicap in the film. He has some good moments, but overall he is kind of bland. This isn’t a huge problem; I bring it up only as a reaction to folks praise of him in the role. Brad Dourif, on the other hand, though he is not given as much to do here as I would like, is still great in his little role as the Gemini killer. Technically he is the focus of the film, but he personally does little more than freak out in a few scenes. Yet, he makes those scenes work that much more by his presence. What makes the film for me is the premise; an idea that seems ridiculous on paper, but somehow works well in the film itself. And the atmosphere, a gritty and dark film, builds tension to its more climactic moments. The Exorcist III is surprisingly frightening in the moments it chooses to be, and it utilizes the environments it operate in, whether it be gloomy Georgetown or the mental ward at the hospital, in disturbing ways. I am not usually too disturbed by supernatural films. I simply do not have the anxieties a film like this plays off of, though that does not mean I do not enjoy them. Though it could develop this more, using the possession theme in such a physical and direct way is definitely interesting. One does not fear intangibles, but rather tangibles which cause very obvious physical danger. Add in anxiety about mental illness and the elderly? I am sold.
Thanks to the forced ending of the film, the premise is also a hindrance. I always have problems with possession films in which the spirit in possession is a ghost. That is simply not the folklore or theology or mythology or whatever you want to call it. So some nerd part of me gets annoyed at this. Of course, with the original story, the possession is not the point. There is less emphasis on that, and more on the danger this specific thing represents. It also creates a problem in tone. The film, though not really sacrilegious, is not particularly pious either. An exorcism movie has trouble when the whole movie is about not particularly being sure of what to believe in. The darker ending, unused, in which the detective simply shoots the priest, THAT makes sense with the rest of the movie. The battle between good and evil one sees in most exorcism films just has trouble working for me given the rest of the movie. The film has some really interesting aspects, and I understand that not all of it works for everybody. For me, it is still a largely frightening film and one I am glad I was able to give a second shot to.