31 days, 31 movies…or so the story goes. Your light reading recap continues below:
- Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981 – Blu-Ray) – Considering how many pixels this site has pushed in its direction over the years – first in a multi-part breakdown/ analysis and then a pseudo-live blog watch-along – I can’t pretend to have much new to say about Friday the 13th Part 2 here, and so my approach for this write-up should necessarily evolve. Still the second best film in the series IMO, blessed with its best final girl in Ginny, its best oddball in Ted, and its most primal, arguably scariest killer in the overalls and burlap sack-clad Farmer Jason, Part 2 stands pretty well on its own merits. So here are some random observations from my most recent viewing: 1) During the cookout scene, Ted is wearing a barbecue apron that reads, “Legalize Cannibalism”; 2) For as much credit as I once gave Ted for apparently writing the “Bear and Rabbit take a dump in the woods” joke that Eddie Murphy popularized on stage in Delirious, it completely slipped my mind to mention that Ginny may well have been the source for another, slightly less legendary but no less durable inappropriate joke I also first heard in the third grade bathroom: “What’s green and red and goes 100 miles an hour?”; 3) At the moment the bartender attempts to clear Ted’s bottle menagerie so that “the bar doesn’t fall down on you”, he has already crushed eight Heinekens – Ginny and Paul appear to have a paltry three between them – with a total of eleven (visible) by the time they later leave, which is not a half bad start to a night in which, even though all your friends died at the hands of a be-sacked backwoods ghoul, you ended up escaping because you refused to even consider going home before last call; and 4) Farmer Jason tricks Vickie into thinking Jeff and Sandra’s bed is fully occupied by hiding under the covers next to Sandra’s dead body, carving knife in hand, until the moment Vickie innocently stumbles into the bedroom unwittingly primed for the big reveal. You gotta hand it to the kid. Much as he had yet to learn about varsity-level killing, he always had that sublime sense of dramatic timing. You just knew he was going to be a star someday.
- Green Room (2015 – Max) – An underappreciated but crucial element of horror filmmaking is the ability to set a particularly realistic scene, something that feels lived in and forbidding, perhaps even forbidden. I’m not talking about the strategic application of a sledgehammer, vat of cooking grease, powerstrip, and strobe light to turn a YMCA bathroom into some discount Saw dungeon. I’m talking a living, breathing environment that is practically a self-contained biome, like how the legitimately subterranean close confines of movies like The Descent and As Above, So Below turned them into pressure cookers well before the Capital-H “Horror” had even had a chance to begin. For better or worse, Green Room, a locked room potboiler in which a DIY punk quartet leading the classic nomadic, hand-to-mouth, “broken down van” touring existence fight for their lives against the swarthy home team after witnessing a murder at a seedy Nazi rock club in backwoods Oregon, reeks of authenticity. It’s clear that writer/director Jeremy Saulnier has seen a show or twelve at a sh*thole in his time, probably even worked the door, paid the bands, or cooked the books. He has a convincing insider’s angle on already fascinating material, and counts on his audience to connect the dots where necessary. That heady mixture of unthinkable situation and unknowable venue – plus, no doubt, the presence of Sir Patrick Stewart slumming as his fiefdom’s mini-Fuhrer – was enough to make many critics and A24 fanboys take fawning notice. You can count me among those thoroughly engrossed by the film’s first third to half, although my attention unfortunately began to wane as it shifted with the unfolding siege to emphasize character dynamics, which are well-intentioned but stock, over the setting and overarching situation, which provide a combination of mysterious and dangerous you rarely get to see in any movie. I may have enjoyed this second viewing of Green Room more than my first, but still came away with a similar list of needling, lingering frustrations. Give me the story of this club and the rancid subculture it simultaneously nurtures, corrupts, and exploits in a limited docuseries instead. I will devour it. Compelling idea though it may be, save Green Room for an appendix, or a bonus feature, or an afterward.
- Halloween II (1981 – Blu-Ray) – Does anybody else remember fondly those long-ago days when Halloween was simple? Back before Silver Shamrock Novelties and Druid death cults, before Jamie Lloyd and Busta Rhymes, before Rob Zombie and David Gordon Green? Back before this weird forthcoming television series for some reason that just got announced? Back when we had this one basic story – LOOMIS tracks MICHAEL, who stalks LAURIE, who fights back/ survives where others couldn’t – on which to chew? Take one last longing look then and drink it all in, because the original Halloween II, which, indeed, provides the final vestiges of the unadulterated series at what, by modern standards, seems a wildly premature date, still can’t even last its own runtime without introducing a bunch of pseudo-mystical hooey about Michael Myers’ blood connection to the rites of the ancient harvest festival of Samhain, or the unnecessary, practically nonsensical, sub-soap operatic wrinkle that Laurie Strode was only his original target because she was somehow also his adopted sister. These are the kinds of witless asides I should’ve expected to find as the series flowered and then inevitably wilted – oh, and did it ever (see also the endings of part 4 and part 5, or the full runtime of part 6) – but they thankfully can’t quite dent, let alone pierce, Halloween II’s bulletproof premise. We pick up the action during the original’s ending, as Loomis blows Michael off the Doyle House’s second floor balcony, confirms his identity as The Bogeyman to Laurie, then runs out the front door to find an empty yard. Cue the infamous xylophone main title theme and we’re off to the races, as Loomis tours various crime/mob scenes as an impotent special guest of the equally helpless local police, Laurie and her distracting wig convalesce at an otherwise conspicuously patient-free Haddonfield Memorial Hospital, and Michael haunts its halls, methodically picking off her theoretical protectors on a sentry path inward like a homicidal Roomba. Even if it’s not quite a great movie, Halloween II is a pretty great sequel full of indelible moments: Consider Dr. Mixter’s severe case of eye-strain; Nurse Karen’s radical course of hydro-therapy; Love-lorn Jimmy concussing himself after slipping on a skating rink of his boss’ shed but otherwise undisturbed blood; Sharpshooter Laurie playing Annie Oakley with Loomis’ pistol as Michael advances toward her in the HMH basement; and, to my knowledge, the first visual representation I can remember of that mythical unlucky trick-or-treater who found a razor blade in his bounty, which somehow trumps them all. Viva simplicity.
- Hell Fest (2018 – Blu-Ray) – From arguably the most famous mask in horror history (albeit one that has unsubtly changed with seemingly each new release), we move to its polar opposite. Behold, the eerie, expressionless visage of…um…Wood Face? Hoodie Man? Homicidal Vagrant Halloween Store Patron? Park Employee #2? It’s kind of a neat look, I grant you, agreeably uncomplicated, as if Doctor Doom had only ever reached the rank of Nurse Practitioner. Beyond the unassailably novel setting, Park Employee #2’s general anonymity is probably the most clever aspect of Hell Fest, a new gen throwback to the Eighties Slasher movies this recap will soon be ankle-deep in that sees six largely oblivious college coeds stalked by a faceless killer as they party at one of those extreme Halloween horror experience theme parks that are increasingly popping up across Middle America. Moving with ease amongst the throng of similarly attired, non-lethal revelers, slipping in and out of alcoves and blind alleyways and lots and lots of garish interior rooms where the sight of a “dead” body wouldn’t raise an eyebrow, Park Employee #2 trails his quarry deliberately. You will likely not be astonished to learn that final girl by default Natalie, returning to her hometown from college and roped into a freaky night out by her bestie, intuits Park Employee #2’s threat level mostly by being more observant than your average house plant, though she of course has difficulty convincing anyone else until it’s already way too late. Points also for the “thoughtful” post-finale coda, which is an interesting and somewhat unsettling, if wholly unnecessary, detail. Hell Fest isn’t an amazing movie, but it is enjoyable, and I appreciate its approach and clear reverence for the subgenre so much that I wouldn’t mind seeing a sequel someday. It’s a new property that doesn’t feel like one, and in an ocean of remakes, I’ll take it. There’s something to be said for just putting a new spin on the old hits.
- Holidays (2016 – Shudder) – My original search for the perfect horror anthology ended with 1982’s Creepshow, which, in a splendid bit of convenient serendipity, was also the first ever contender I considered. The quest for its successor continues unabated some forty years later, said path intersecting all too often with the likes of Holidays, the violently mixed, mildly surprising, sometimes painfully predictable, occasionally actively repellent bag of holiday-themed vignettes that kicked off 2023’s 31 DAEs festivities apparently determined to quench within me some latent, untapped thirst for mediocrity. First off, the conceit of pairing standalone tales of horror with traditionally underexposed holidays like Easter, St. Paddy’s, or Mother’s Day isn’t nearly as clever in practice as it seems in theory. Second, all the movie really advertises is putting a dark spin on each day, so one twist or different shade per chapter is really all the viewer should expect. To wit: A put upon teenager goes to extreme lengths to communicate intentions to her unrequited Valentine; A little Irish girl gets swept up in manifestations of the literal origins of St. Patrick’s Day; Another little kid comes face to face with a ghoulish Easter Bunny variant; An expectant mother gets more than she bargained for at a natural childbirth retreat. As with most anthologies, there are some standout stories in both directions. On the good side, a blind date on New Year’s Eve gets derailed by the introduction of unadvertised homicidal tendencies, and, in the most affecting story, a young woman lost in the wrong part of town becomes convinced she is receiving messages from her late father. On the bad, Kevin Smith writes and directs the weird, off-putting story of a trio of webcam girls getting comprehensive revenge on their one-note, browbeating pimp that is at best tangentially related to either Halloween or recognizable human behavior. Smith’s participation was probably the element that got Holidays made, but, believe me, it’s a double-edged sword. The movie doesn’t look nearly as cheap as might be expected, but that just serves to heighten the frequent disappointment in what we’re seeing on screen. Even trying to remember what the stories were about more than a month after the fact was an exercise in frustration much akin to that of my initial viewing. Maybe that’ll finally teach me to continue chasing impossible dreams.
- The House on Sorority Row (1982 – Shudder) – Lazy consensus has long ascribed to the villains of eighties Slasher movies an oddly Puritanical stealth motive for all their bloodshed, which was to punish young people, as if on behalf of the Reagan decency police, for engaging in premarital sex and miscellaneous other items off the immoral behavior buffet. In my view, such hot takes represent a fundamental misreading of the psychology at play in even your average slasher, who is more dependably driven by vengeance and rage than any semblance of righteousness. Honestly, the real takeaway here – besides, perhaps, “vacation elsewhere” – is to try not to be such a dick all the time. For example, like contemporaries Prom Night and The Burning, among others, the inciting event in uncommonly thoughtful Slasher The House on Sorority Row is yet another dumb prank gone horribly wrong. It’s school dance season for the seniors at an unnamed sorority house on a pleasant, soft lit, we’ll say New England, campus, as the long-simmering power struggle between smug, resentful, classic Queen Bee type Vicki and prim, shrewish house mother Mrs. Slater finally comes to a boil. Vicki, smarting from a public humiliation and eager for comeuppance, brandishes her boyfriend’s pistol in an ill-considered attempt to scare Mrs. Slater that goes predictably awry. Long story short: the sisters enter into an uneasy pact to cover both their asses and evidence of the crime by hiding Slater’s body in the nearby pool before proceeding with the evening’s epic house party. As we and the nervous co-conspirators navigate the soiree’s various twists and turns and thrill to the twee New Wave stylings of elfin house band 4 Out of 5 Doctors, a shadowy killer begins thinning the herd. Call it I Know What You Did Last Semester. Each fresh viewing of The House on Sorority Row leaves me impressed anew by the arsenal of little things the movie accomplishes that so many of its peers concurrently tried and failed. The more than baseline characterization makes the girls seem like some approximation of individuals and gives the unfolding story additional weight; extra attention is paid to guilt-ridden final girl in waiting Katie, and Kathryn McNeil’s angsty, sensitive performance makes it easy to care about her misgivings, her fate, and, at times, her sanity; rather than anointing some unknown at the 11th hour ala genre godmother Friday the 13th, the movie offers multiple (somewhat) plausible options and invites its viewer to deduce the killer’s identity, personifying them in the interim through the employment of odd camera angles, cracked open closet and attic doors, creepy totems like a court jester jack-in-the-box, and the ever-present lethal business end of Mrs. Slater’s trademark walking cane, retrieved from the depths of the pool in which she may (or may not) still reside. This is just fun stuff from an admittedly bottom-feeding subgenre’s upper tier. I’ve become such a fan that I even hope to catch the obligatory 2009 reboot during next year’s 31 DAEs, if not before.
- Infinity Pool (2023 – Hulu) – The relative stench of Holidays might have doomed a lesser festival before it had the chance to really get underway. I allowed the false start, however, on the premise that I’d gone in with zero expectations for that movie and therefore had no real call to feel cheated. True disappointment comes along with the dashing of significant hopes, and such hopes don’t come much higher than I had for Infinity Pool, writer/director Brandon Cronenberg’s middling, meandering follow-up to 2020’s sublime Possessor, a mind-bending, deliriously effective mixture of sci-fi and horror which had afforded the prodigal Canuck near-creative carte blanche in my eyes. This time around, Cronen the Younger-berg’s instincts for transforming bloody high concept into bloody high art simply let him down. Alexander Skaarsgard plays an ennui-pickled American businessman on vacation at one of those self-contained luxury banana republic resorts insulated from the ragged edge of the third world whose night out beyond the walls with his dissatisfied wife and some troublemaking fellow tourists ends in involuntary manslaughter. Since the twist triggered by this misadventure is both kind of a doozy and Infinity Pool’s only real card to play, and since advertising both pre- and post-release has been generally canny about revealing it, I’m of two minds as to whether I should spoil it here. On the one hand, concealing it makes the rest of Infinity Pool seem even more like an aimless, garden variety exercise in chiding white privilege and toxic masculinity than it actually is, though very little still happens either way. On the other, it might inadvertently compel you to check the thing out, and, assuming you have the patience and curiosity to ride this esoteric, Mia Goth-powered, kiddie roller coaster to its elliptical end, that’s 108 minutes of your life you might well regret once it’s been spent.
- Kill List (2011 – Shudder) – From what I can tell, the movies shoulder almost all of the blame for popularizing “hired assassin” as a legitimate career choice. Without timely exposure to the superior likes of Grosse Pointe Blank or In Bruges, I probably never would’ve realized such a vocation truly existed. Or else I simply missed that booth at the high school job fair. But I digress. Another casualty/beneficiary of Shudder’s unfortunate penchant for, if not exactly false, then faulty advertising is this odd, bloodstained, slice-of-life, uh, indie buddy dramedy that sees a British hitman with a wife, kid, and a dramatically convenient short fuse coaxed out of retirement by his longtime partner/best friend. Think Sexy Beast without Ben Kingsley, the colorful vocabulary, or sense of forward momentum. Kill List follows the former retiree’s haphazard progress along the titular path back to professional respectability with the kind of attention one might pay a minor musical prodigy trying to regain their groove after an extended sabbatical, investing much more time on exploring the relationships between hitman and wife and hitman and partner than the specifics of any particular assignment. When his temper causes one important job to go sideways, a plot of sorts emerges just in time for a gnarly, non sequitur ending that apparently helped the film garner a must/mustn’t see reputation in its homeland. I don’t mean to suggest that Kill List is an awful movie. It’s a muted but interesting enough character study with a reasonably horrific ending, which I think we can agree was not what the Shudder copywriters promised. I was just never quite sure what I was watching, whether the focus of the moment was on domesticity or brutality. This much is for sure, though: it must not take much to become “notorious” in England nowadays.
darkadaptedeye 