Unseen Terror 2017: Day 26 & 27

Huh, okay, I've calmed down now. Well, once again, things have taken a bit of a turn for Unseen Terror. I'd like to thank steaming service Plex for somehow forgetting my login information, and not cooperating no matter how many attempts it takes. This means that for the time being, original choices The Lure and Rings will have to wait on the sidelines. So, let's just get the two days' worth of flicks out of the way, shall we?

Xtro II: The Second Encounter, despite advertising itself as a sequel to that one particular flick I reviewed not that long ago, has nothing to do whatsoever with its predecessor. Rather, it plays out like a mixture of Aliens, Predator, and a primitive version of Stargate. It turns out that when writer/director Harry Bromley Davenport made the decision to begin work on a follow-up film, he didn't have the rights to his own work's storyline, but rather only the name itself. Not feeling completely deterred or defeated, he set out to work on a new motion picture anyway, believing that attaching the Xtro name would be enough of a draw for interested viewers. Yeah, that tactic of "we've got the name, that's all people want, right?" worked wonders for another, bigger movie didn't it?


This drastic change is felt almost immediately though, as the film just doesn't wish to be relatively self-contained or have the element of family drama like in Davenport's o.g. flick. The main plot (or whatever constitutes it) focuses on a team of supposed scientists who are working on interdimensional travel, and when one of their first guinea pigs accidentally brings back an unknown stowaway that bursts through its host, they band together to fight back and survive. As you can see, Xtro II is pretty shameless with showing off its influences (even the poster's tagline is a dead giveaway). But unlike the first Xtro, which was at least trying to establish its own identity, this just feels ludicrously lazy and like an excuse for some of its cast members to cosplay as bargain bin versions of the Colonial Marines.

And you thought I was kidding.

The fact that four separate writers were involved in creating Xtro II (hint: Davenport isn't one of them) is an absolute shocker considering that not only does it lack an original bone in its body, but there aren't even any memorable characters to be found. Shit, even the added presence of now-internet meme Jan-Michael Vincent can't bring this pile out of the tar pit that it's stuck in. According to several reports, he was rather disinterested while working on set, and ended up being fed all of his lines by the director himself. If you're combining this with the disconnect from the previous material, one can't be entirely surprised when you read interviews about HBD absolutely hating this entire picture. 

Look, despite the fact that I know friends who find it joyous whenever I bash a movie during my October marathon, there are very rare situations where I want one of my picks to be truly awful. I like being pleasantly surprised, especially when it can lead me to purchasing something on Blu-ray that I would have never considered doing before (Nights of the Demons, From Beyond, Popcorn). But Xtro II: The Second Encounter is junk. Pure, piss-soaked, shit-running-down-the-leg junk. Even if you decided to call it X.I.N.O (a.ka. "Xtro in Name Only)," it would still be a colossal waste of time. Do not seek it out. Pretend that it doesn't exist. Do not petition for this to receive a Blu-ray release. Let it rot.



Well, maybe you can demand that somehow we grab a hold of the print and digitally insert Brad Dourif into multiple shots. He can make anything better.



Well, with how atrocious Xtro II: The Second Encounter is, the plans for watching Xtro 3: Watch the Skies went flying out of the window. I just don't think I could handle anything else from this series of films. I'm in desperate need of a refresher.

I'm fully aware of what somebody might be saying right now: you're gonna cleanse your palette with a film that opens with musician John Mayer and comedian Bill Burr as a pair of lunkhead chemical waste drivers? Well heck, do you have a better idea? Regardless, 2014's Zombeavers, whose plot is pretty much what you think it is, kept evading Unseen Terror year after year, and it was merely because of what I'd call just plain procrastination. I love killer creature features, low budget trash, and discovering new horror-comedies. Plus, it's under ninety minutes, so I could knock this out before starting a shift at work if I played my cards right.


Sad as I am to have missed my initially scheduled films for these past two days, choosing Zombeavers turned out to be a pretty solid choice anyway. Once I noticed that the first sight of the titular, crazed critters made me howl with laughter that could have woken slumbering giants beneath the earth (that and hearing a screaming soundbite from Mortal Kombat II around the halfway mark), I knew that I was in for a splendidly silly time. Writer/director Jordan Rubin spent many years working in the realm of comedic shows like Crank Yankers and The Man Show, and one can tell that he must have been having a field day while conceptualizing this piece of cinema. Along with writers Al and Jon Kaplan, they turn in a script that is equal parts self-aware absurdness and small throwback to the 70s-era wave of Jaws knockoffs. True, not all of their jokes stick their landing, and most, if not all of the main characters are unlikeable/disposable schmucks, but when you're here to watch a film titled Zombeavers, does it really matter?


On the monster side of things, the bloodthirsty rodents look very, very cheap. It isn't on the level of something like say, The Killer Shrews, but more often than not, there are moments where you can clearly notice that they didn't care to put in any effort or spend any cash on making them look or move rather realistically. But gosh, they're so adorably comical that I forgave it almost immediately. There's also a fun twist revolving around their infection that occurs at around the hour-or-so mark of Zombeavers that leads to some entertaining and quite graphic gags. Up until that point, I was slightly concerned that the picture was actually holding back a bit in the gore department, but it felt as though the filmmakers were listening to their audience and winked back at us while sporting the biggest of shit-eating grins. It was a bit of a shame that these moments occur so late into its running time, but when you consider the meager amount of money that they likely had at their disposal, it's not a great offense.


Zombeavers isn't a masterpiece by any means, and is very, very stupid. But it's the absolute best kind of dumb that is sorely needed once in a blue moon. It won't win any awards, but when something like this sets out with the best of intentions and delivers on exactly what it promises, it's very hard to give it any real flack and doesn't necessarily need to earn any accolades from anybody besides the fans. Playing this back-to-back with releases such as Black Sheep or Alligator at a party isn't such a bad idea if you ask me, especially given its running time. As of this writing, this little ditty is available to stream on Netflix, and a purchasable, if not slightly highly-priced DVD is out there for interested parties as well.



.....hmm. What joke can I add at the end here? Erm, I guess I'll just say fuck Xtro II again then?




Tomorrow....well, I can't really promise that any one particular motion picture will pop up on here. Maybe something Italian? Maybe something from a notorious, but respected director? Maybe a Troma film? I guess your guess will be as good as mine!

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 30

On the way to the hospital, a pregnant Amelia Vanek experiences a tremendous shock when the car her husband is driving gets into an accident. Thankfully, she and her unborn child survive, but at a great cost: her partner Oskar is killed in the crash. Many years go by, and an emotionally damaged Amelia is now constantly struggling to control her son Samuel, who is excessively active and repeatedly insisting that monsters are out to get him. During a night where he can not sleep, the mother pulls a random, mysterious book from his shelf to read to him: a story about an entity named "The Babadook," which will continuously torment those who are made aware of its existence. Thinking nothing of this peculiarly dark tale, Amelia's disturbance and paranoia suddenly begins to grow as her offspring speaks of this being trying to kill him, and she discovers that there is a truly dark presence that is out to end the both of them.

I'm sure that most of you are well aware of the existence of a very rare breed of horror movie. In a market dominated by motion pictures that serve you only cheap jump scares or the gratuitous bloodbath, which there is nothing wrong with mind you, there are the oft-forgotten ones that truly disturbed or terrified us during the prime of our youth. For me, it was Ridley Scott's Alien and Steven Spielberg's Jaws. They were nightmare-inducing, building tension in a world that seemed destined to collapse under the weight of stress with no absolute, easy solution in sight. Without trying to overhype this particular picture, I can safely say that Jennifer Kent's directorial debut, the oddly-titled The Babadook, has all the makings and traits of a future classic. Heck, one could argue that its current rating on a site such as Rotten Tomatoes is proof of that, but I don't like to bestow something that important and prolific upon any film. Well, not this soon I mean.

What makes The Babadook work so effectively is the film's reliance on tension and atmosphere to help tell a story. Little things begin to pop up, be they random sounds, music dropping in and out, and the always-reliable moments that try and convince the audience that maybe you were just seeing things that aren't there. The concept of a child and their parent(s) being pursued or haunted by an unseen force is far from an original concept, but given Kent's ability to help pull out such tremendous performances from the leads and make them easy to root for, it's easily forgivable. Essie Davis' portrayal of Amelia is nothing short of grand, and she's fully immersed in her role as a fractured, shell of a woman who appears to be struggling with multiple stages of grief while seemingly being unable to keep a grasp of her own sanity because of her child's hyperactive, erratic behavioral issues. I know that many viewers will likely find Noah Wiseman's Samuel to be quite irksome, but as someone who has worked in retail most of his life, I can say that I have seen more children who acted like that then you would think. Plus, his nature and strange tendencies only add to his mother's spiral into depression and the curious intrigue about what seems to be bothering him.


There's also the concern of the titular....thing of the picture. Earlier this month, I reviewed Shadow Of The Vampire, and forgot to mention one, singular thing that helped accentuate that film's positives: Max Schreck's Nosferatu looked really, really unnatural. If you want to concoct or create a truly brilliant boogeyman or monster, you don't always need to have them kill dumb, sex-craved teenagers or even speak semblances of a full-constructed sentence (whether it's for fun or trying to highlight the "I'm not normal/from around here" cliche found in flicks released post-1970). The creature in question, whether you wish to believe Samuel's pleas for help or not, is quite striking and appears to be honest-to-god unsettling. At a certain point, I just stopped taking notes and wondered how disturbed I would have been if I had made the decision to turn off the lights and listen to just the audio on my headphones (Amelia's first "encounter" with it while lying in bed got under my skin). I guarantee that the possibility of me crapping my pants would have been rather high.

There is nothing that I can add to my review to The Babadook that hasn't been previously echoed by any respected journalist or critic (though I have seen horror fans are quite divided on it, especially with its ending). Along with We Need To Talk About Kevin, this is one of the only entries that has legitimately creeped me out so far, filled with fantastic performances and some quite fascinating symbolism that mercifully doesn't come across as pretentious. It is easily in the top three features that I've watched so far, and I am honestly tempted to just end this early because I want to end on a high note. Go buy the movie at any retail store (Shout! Factory has an exclusive Blu-Ray that is rather inexpensive), rent it on your cable box's on-demand feature, or view it on Netflix Instant Streaming.



Tomorrow, it's HALLO-GODDAMN-WEEN. As such, we shall do what was original promised: we will close with a 2015 release. Still, I can't help but wonder if I should cheat and go back to the past, though I suspect that this may become a reality if the project in question is of hit-or-miss quality...

Jingle All The Way 2 (2014) Review

Wow. Just wow. I didn't realize that it has been a little over an entire month since I last updated this blog with a new film review. If my memory hasn't completely faded, then I recall saying that a post-Unseen Terror wrap-up was coming very soon. Searching through my drafts, I did see what was to be, but never came about. So, maybe I'll do something like that with any upcoming free time (it has been fairly hellacious at work).


*looks at the post title* Ah shit, there's a review to do right now though, isn't there?

Divorced dad Larry wants nothing but the best for his eight-year-old daughter Noel. Though he provides her with plenty of free time, fun, and social activities, he just can't compete with her rich, new stepdad Victor. Attempting to think of ways to please the young lady, he secretly peeks at her letter to Santa Claus. In it, he discovers that her utmost desire is this season's hottest toy: an electronic, voice-recording item called The Harrison Bear. When Victor also discovers this request, he sets out to beat the trailer-bound Southerner to the demanded plaything. Over the course of several nights, the two begin a race to Noel's heart, hoping that she will thank one of them for the best Christmas ever.


If it wasn't known to all of my friends who occasionally frequent this page, I reviewed one of WWE Studios' latest attempts at making themselves a more respectable commodity in the rather crowed movie industry. Around that time period, two more straight-to-video releases found their ways to the Redboxes and On-Demand channels of the world in the form of See No Evil 2 and Jingle All The Way 2. For reasons that I am honest-to-god not sure of, I've decided to sit down and watch both within this past week. A review for their horror-themed flick should be coming within the next few days, but for now, and before I head off to see Crowbar and Unearth play in Wilmington, North Carolina tonight, let's get this one out of the way.


There isn't a whole lot that I personally like about 1996's Jingle All The Way, though I can certainly understand as to why it has a fairly decent following among connoisseurs of bad cinema. Much like a good portion of sequels released far after their predecessors' times have passed, the news of a second installment being released in this new decade befuddled me. Sure, Arnold Schwarzenegger has fallen on hard times, and most of his recent projects have bombed critically and financially, but I doubted that he would sink to a level this low. That and he did have an unmistakable presence that kept you watching throughout its ninety two minutes of mediocrity.


To the surprise of abso-fucking-lutely nobody, standup comedian Larry The Cable Guy (whose protagonist is also named Larry) is not Arnold Schwarzenegger. Truth be told, he isn't even Michael Dudikoff. For most of Jingle All The Way 2's running time (it runs only one minute longer than the prior picture), he is playing an even stupider version of his on-stage persona, with traits and pratfalls borrowed from the late Jim Varney. Most of Larry's scenes consist of him getting physically abused by children, the elderly, or by some unseen deity who hates bad jokes and the overuse of the "womp womp"-style of humor. Also unlike Arnold's fourth attempt at a comedic role is his lack of a true rival. Sure, you might be looking at the cast list and see that actor Sinbad is nowhere to be found (when you can say that he of all people has more dignity than this, you know you're in trouble), but professional wrestler Santino Marella is. After all, his own personality on television is that of an exaggerated, goofy Italian stereotype, so maybe he can bring something worthwhile to this treatment of excrement. Well, you are gravely mistaken. He serves as a pseudo-sidekick, and save for a mere bit of foreshadowing in the first ten minutes, only pops in here and there to say something of absolutely no merit or importance. Worst of all is that he isn't even in character when he does enter the fray. The picture's central antagonist is Victor, played by occasional Michael Bay buddy Brian Stepanek. Until the thirty minute mark had passed, I didn't even suspect that he had any nefarious schemes or tricks whatsoever, as they spent a good portion of the first act making our "hero" out to look like an annoying redneck and making Victor look like a struggling, eager-to-please stepfather. Then again, expecting consistency in a film written by the man who brought us Without A Paddle: Nature's Calling and directed by the individual who shat out Chairman Of The Board seemed like something that was utterly, utterly hopeless.


As if this wasn't obvious, there is nothing redeeming about Jingle All The Way 2. The flick barely even appeals to followers of the "Redneck Comedy" group, as it is extremely watered down for family entertainment. It's also too painstakingly boring and derivative of better Christmas-themed films, so mom and pop might actually fall asleep if they insert it into their DVD or Blu-Ray player any time soon. Let's just forget that this even exists, alright? If you're thinking about spending any currency on it, give it to the nearest homeless person that you find. Chances are that he'll spend it on something more productive, buy a sandwich, a beer, or may even have bought the movie as a gift, only to be thrown out on the streets as a result of that decision.



On the plus side, it is infinitely better than Delta Farce.

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 31

Elizabeth Driscoll, an employee at the San Francisco health department, awakens one random day to find that her boyfriend is acting unusually cold and seemingly distant. Upon contacting Matthew Bennell, her colleague from work, they discover that even more individuals around the city have been seemingly sucked of all emotions. Though others are more believing of the fact that maybe it is just pure coincidence, the two are decidedly convinced that something is awry, and begin to investigate further. After a mutual friend comes across a blank-looking, rapidly-changing body in his bathhouse, the trio uncover the reason for these odd occurrences: alien organisms from a dying planet that are intent on replacing the entire human population.

So, we've finally come full circle. We've reached the end. With these upcoming paragraphs, I will be concluding this year's Unseen Terror, my yearly, though not only foray into horror movies that I have never seen. When I began piecing together this year's October blog-o-thon, I couldn't have imagined that I'd be opening and closing with essentially the same story, even if they are written and directed by two entirely different grown men. True, their release dates are separated by more than a few years, but Philip Kaufman's remake/re-imagining of the classic Invasion Of The Body Snatchers should not be thought of as just another hollywood revamp. In some ways, it equals or rivals the original film released twenty two years earlier, and certain aspects could arguably be superior to its previous adaptation.

For starters, the score is a lot more straight up horror-based, which I didn't think was possible given that Carmen Dragon did a phenomenal job himself before this version came out. Denny Zeitlin composes pieces that don't feel completely confined to their own decade. It doesn't sound like a soundtrack from the 1970s, but rather like something that could fit in at nearly any time or year. This is all the more surprising when you consider that it's done by a man whose primary media-related work outside of this was Sesame Street. The fear and underlying message of conformity still remains from the 1950s, as does some of the same plot elements and sequences (there's even a Kevin McCarthy cameo!), but it ultimately plays out more like a traditional suspense/horror flick than a science fiction shocker. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

The '78 version of Invasion Of The Body Snatchers is immediately more open with showing the viewer how these creatures have arrived on our planet, expanding on their reasoning and logic behind why they choose to do what they're currently doing. Never before have I been so creeped out by watching flowers bloom and plants grow. We're also given an explanation and answer for what exactly happens to the original bodies once the replicating process has wrapped up (something that the original never made completely clear to the audience), and it is fairly unsettling, if not a tad bit disgusting. I've never wanted to see a naked woman less in my entire life. Thanks folks. Another standout moment is the extraterrestrial beings emitting a very shrill, slightly animalistic cry when a human is discovered hidden in their group or walking in the streets, which bears a similarity to the cries of the Nazgul from The Lord Of The Rings trilogy.

Though I was fully and begrudgingly aware of this iteration's ending going in (do not partake in a google image search if you want to avoid spoilers), I feel that it is far more appropriately bleak than the original's, with a final act that simultaneously breaks your heart and somewhat restores hope. This prior knowledge proves to be an irrelevant factor in the overall entertainment of the motion picture, since the build up and main story is incredibly well done, with the tension becoming nail-bitingly fierce. Now that I think about it, and as blasphemous as it sounds, I may just recommend Philip Kaufman's version of Invasion Of The Body Snatchers over Don Siegel's 1956 picture of the same name. There's a great cast full of equally exceptional performances (it is so bizarre seeing Leonard Nemoy in something that isn't related to Star Trek), it tones down some of the blatantly old-school"heebie jeebies" vibe that could unfairly be classified as lame by today's youth, and is, to quote Marge Gunderson, pretty darn good.

Yeesh, did that dog with a human face look really, really stupid though. And it doesn't make the best amount of sense. Scratch that, it makes NO sense whatsoever. But shit, I watched a movie with a caterpillar-dog not that long ago, so perhaps I'll cut it some slack.

Tomorrow, I shall spend a good portion of my day NOT watching any horror films, and will be giving my senses a break. That being said, I will be happy to discuss my final thoughts on this year's iteration of this "blog-o-thon" that I thoroughly enjoy doing, and will even disclose information about pictures that didn't make the cut!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 29 & Day 30

New home owners Jesse and Kate have arrived at the residence of his now-deceased parents, who were murdered when he was an infant. They settle in fine, and soon, their friends Charlie and Lana decide to pay a visit, primarily hoping that Kate will give the latter a chance to be signed to her record label. When digging around in the basement, the two men come across an old photograph of Jesse own great-great-grandfather, holding a crystal skull and posing in front of a Mayan temple. Curious as to the whereabouts of this artifact, they dig up the old man's casket and are attacked by his corpse, though "Gramps," as he will soon be known, settles down once he discovers Jesse's lineage. With this revival, however, comes an unearthing of strange forces who also wish to possess the skull, and the younger men will have to traverse many worlds connected to this house in order to protect it.


Despite watching and posting my thoughts on last year's House, which I came away from fairly satisfied and happy overall, I remember virtually nothing about it. I don't suspect that this was the movie's fault, but more or less my own since I'll be the first to admit that I don't have the strongest memory sometimes when it comes to movies that don't blow me away upon first time viewings. What I do recall is that it spawned three sequels in six years, and that the franchise is generally regarded as the type that gets significantly worse with the more installments that are released (here's looking at you Jaws and Hellraiser). But heck, House II: The Second Story actually has direct involvement with most of the crew who worked on the first film, including writer Ethan Wiley (who is also sitting in the director's chair for this one), initial story creator Fred Dekker (of The Monster Squad and Night Of The Creeps fame), and producer Sean S. Cunningham (Friday The 13th). How bad could it truly be?


Well, perhaps to House II's credit, it isn't as terrible as I imagined that it would be. Wiley's sequel may currently be sitting at a frighteningly bad 0% on RottenTomatoes.com, but I don't think that the rating is completely fair or justified. After all, this penned project should not be viewed as a horror-comedy, but rather as the complete opposite: a comedy with the occasional element of horror peeking in from around the corner. I didn't expect to make a comparison to infamously-ridiculous followups to beloved horror entries such as Sam Raimi's third entry in the Evil Dead trilogy, Army Of Darkness (House II coming out the same year as Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn could not have been a coincidence), but it isn't unwarranted. There is very little that will scare audiences of any age, and save for one moment of a head being blow off by multiple shotgun shells (which is still done without a single drop of blood being spilled), I wouldn't be entirely upset if parents today showed this to their own children. The supporting characters, be they once-human or never-human, are way too delightful to be frightening. That does work against House II at times, since the comedy is occasionally pretty dreadful or just too sitcom-like for someone such as me.


On the subject of sitcoms, I'm starting to wonder if there is going to be several recurring themes in these flicks should I choose to watch numbers three and four in the near future. Once again, we have a performer from Cheers in a supporting role (George Wendt in the prior installment, John Ratzenberger this time around). The poster is a severed hand ringing a doorbell. The antagonist is an older enemy with a closer connection to the hero than we originally realized. Don't get me wrong, I see these type of things all of the time in various motion pictures (see Transformers 1-4. Actually, don't see those, stick with the Gamera movies from the 60s and 70s. Maybe), but you have to wonder if Dekker might have just been running low on time, especially since this was released only fifteen months after the first film was. The climax also feels incredibly rushed, as if the crew forgot that they were strapped for time, and thusly had to write a more serious finale that takes a radical 180 degree turn.


As long as you're willing to kick back, take off your shoes, grab a big bag of popcorn, and enter into the picture with a mentality of "just go with it," you could have a decently fun time with this inferior, though still slightly amusing sequel. There's some wacky comedy, some nice stop-motion homages to long-time greats and pioneers such as Ray Harryhausen, and a baby pterodactyl brought to life by veteran voice actor Frank Welker, who has too many notable characters on his resume that I care to name now.



And tell me that you don't want a pug-a-pillar. He's the cutest creation that I've seen since the Dorats in Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah. Just look at him. LOOK AT HIM I SAY.

A collector of rare books, Dean Corso is puzzled by a request to meet with literature connoisseur Boris Balkan. Though primarily motivated by greed, Dean is attracted by the older gentleman's task that is given to him. Within a short period of time, Balkan has attained a copy of the infamous title "The Nine Gates Of The Kingdom Of The Shadows," a book that was rumored to have been co-written by Lucifer himself, and even has a rumored incantation that will summon the dark lord to this plane. He assigns Corso with the command to track down two other prints of this work stored around other parts of the world, intending to prove that his copy is authentic. Should it not be, he must acquire the one that is. Such a desire shall not come without mystic occurrences or consequences though.


Well, hello Mr. Roman Polanski, it sure is nice to see you again after I was essentially blown away by my first time viewing of Rosemary's Baby last year. Why I haven't chosen to take a gander at another entry in your "apartment" trilogy is beyond me, but as it stands, I'll try sitting through a screening of your 1999 project, the occasionally derided, yet equally praised The Ninth Gate. Sure, you still may be a scumbag for what you did in the past that caused you to flee the United States, but I've watched films by Victor Salva and listened to records from radically insane black metal bands, so why wouldn't I give you another chance in the department of cinema, especially after I adored your most well-known piece?...Okay, I'm nowhere near clever enough for a review to be done in that smarmy style, so I'll just stick with what I know and what I do best.


But what do I know after watching The Ninth Gate? Well, it's kind of hard to say what one comes away with after watching a motion picture as odd and somewhat messy as this one. As a screenwriter and director, Roman Polanski has always been able to use the "slow burn" effect to his advantage, keeping his fans and critics intrigued while building up to what ultimately ends up being a pretty damn powerful conclusion. This flick proves to be no exception to his trademark, but even through some of its moments of creepiness, it is quite lethargic by his standards. It's actually a little misleading to call this a pure horror film too, as the journey and investigation for the books plays out more like an old-time mystery, complete with some "whodunnit" parts and enigmatic, unidentified characters popping up here and there. Wojciech Kilar's (Bram Stoker's Dracula) wonderfully eerie score helps build upon this assumption too, but hey, as long as I'm not bored, then I don't particularly care what you choose to call or classify your picture as.


In the acting department, Johnny Depp is doing what pre-Pirates Of The Caribbean Johnny Depp does. He is somewhat restrained for most of the time that he's in front of the camera, but when you consider that the character of Corso is so damn intent on just getting his job done and going home again, you can't really act surprised by this choice to play it safe. On the opposite side of things, Frank Langella (Frost/Nixon) and Lena Olin (Alias, Mystery Men) seem to be having a lot more fun trying to make their portrayals of Boris and Liana that much more interesting, especially in the case of the latter. Olin starts to dive into campy territory, but despite this and a decision to have a buffer-looking version of rapper Sisqo as her bodyguard, it's saved by her resurgence and fairly dark true intentions towards the end. And if we're talking about people reentering the movie, if you remove the main gist of the plot, the here-and-there appearances of French actress Emmanuelle Seigner (the current wife of Polanski himself) prove to be the most fascinating thing about the entire ordeal. Simply referred to as "The Girl," she's fairly captivating to look at, and even by the end, I wasn't quite certain as to who, what, or why she was involved with Depp's protagonist. In terms of further compliments, there's also one potential misogynistic spoiler far down below as well. I'd list it in this paragraph, but I'm too much of a gentleman to do so.


When I was writing my notes down for this review, I was initially confused as to why so many critics at the time compared it to Rosemary's Baby and his earlier works. Outside of the involvement with Satan and some general occult shenanigans, I saw very little that it shared with its "predecessor." If anything, it plays out not unlike an episode of Master of Horror that genre legend John Carpenter would direct eight years later, the disturbing "Cigarette Burns." Then, the conclusion came. This was the absolute defining moment for The Ninth Gate, since it barely makes a lick of sense, and seeps into the disappointing, truly scary realms of the bizarre and the somewhat clunky. I had to look up several interpretations of the ending and still couldn't quite piece it together. And yet, this one is still worth a watch, though I don't imagine that most frequently-impatient viewers will be able to stomach a large portion of it. Most hardcore Johnny Depp fans will probably get a kick out of seeing him in his first horror-based role since A Nightmare On Elm Street, and it's enough to make up for some of the dreck he's been attached to recently.




There is no bit of silliness to add this time. Because tomorrow, we're going to be done with this shebang. And tomorrow's final entry will come full circle…




















Oh boy, did Emmanuelle Seigner look good naked. And I do mean REALLY GOOD.

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 28

Young Marylee is mauled by a neighbor's dog, only to be saved by her large, gentle, and simple-minded friend Bubba. While she is taken to the hospital, a local courier named Otis rounds up a group of men, assuming that Bubba has harmed this little girl and potentially killed her. During their manhunt, the handicapped innocent runs to his mother's, and she disguises him as a scarecrow in her cornfield in order to evade punishment for something that he did not commit. Tragically, it fails to work, as Otis and his cohorts shoot him repeatedly. Shortly thereafter, Bubba's name is cleared, but the murderers get off in court, claiming self-defense. It isn't long, however, when the scarecrow that Bubba had been killed in starts to reappear around town.


Much like my experience with the original version of The Town That Dreaded Sundown, I was completely incorrect about my previous assumptions when it came to this 1981 made-for-TV horror flick. If one were to take a glance at the cover of its home video releases (since there is no theatrical poster that I know of), you would think that the film would be a supernatural-based slasher with a scarecrow at the center of all of the bloodshed. Much to my (pleasant) surprise, I was only partially correct. Dark Night Of The Scarecrow does indeed have elements of the aforementioned description, but it is a lot more well-rounded and doesn't need to rely on the cliches or mass carnage that befell most horror movies released in the 1980s.


Okay, so most of those cliches wouldn't have made the cut anyway, since this had its premiere on CBS Television. To my knowledge, there were plans to make this into an independent feature film, but for various reasons, it seems as if its low budget and semi-old school feel was deemed appropriate enough for home viewers instead. There was also the plan to cast veteran actor Strother Martin (last seen on this countdown in Sssssss) as main antagonist Otis Hazelrig, but he passed away before the production was getting ready to start. This proves to be anything but a problem since fellow experienced actor Charles Durning (The Sting, Dog Day Afternoon) turns in a delightfully sketchy and slimy performance as the postal worker who helps murder a childlike grownup. Oh goodness did I get chuckle when he tells young Marylee that "you can trust the mailman." No matter which decade in which something like this is uttered, you can't help but laugh. Truth be told, save for a few random moments from some of the supporting cast, nobody is really doing a bad job acting-wise. They don't treat Dark Night Of The Scarecrow as a standard throwaway picture, but rather as a creepy, if not simplistic tale of revenge.


Speaking of the very basic, but effective elements discussed above, writer J.D. Feigelson creates a script that utilizes minimalism and the tactic of confusion when it comes to the kills (save for Bubba's death). There are very few shots of the monstrosity that stalks these men, and sometimes, we don't even see its own shadow when it does its dirty deeds. I'll bite and say that as entertaining as its performers are, specifically Durning and Lane Smith (The Mighty Ducks), they aren't the most complex or original creations you'll see. Maybe it was just me, but Scarecrow also does seem to boast an unintentional anti-southerner vibe, at least judging by the absolute cruelty and apathy of some of the townsfolk when it comes to the manhunt for Bubba and its slightly-infuriating aftermath. But again, that might have been something that I assumed I had seen, and nobody else did.


I have to wonder what could have been had Dark Night Of The Scarecrow been given a theatrical release or bigger budget. Don't get me wrong, there isn't a single thing that I would change about the final product, but perhaps a longer, slightly bloodier remake couldn't hurt? Either way, if you want to take a look at how to do an exceptional job in the horror field with little-to-no money at your disposal, and see where other underrated gems like Pumpkinhead got its inspiration from, then look no further. And if none of that convinces you, then be aware that a brief part of the picture takes place on Halloween night, upping the entertainment factor!



But oy, it sure is difficult to watch anything with grown men playing mentally challenged individuals after THIS was released six years ago.



Tomorrow, it's back to the past, with a sequel to a surprisingly good entry from last year, House 2!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 26 & 27

Yep, we have another twofer here folks. I won't waste time on an explanation this time around, since you're here just to read on about the movies after all.

When two miners from a small village vanish, Shigeru Kawamura, the head of security, goes to investigate. One of the bodies is discovered, having died from severe and unusual lacerations. The culprit is revealed to be a giant insect larva, and soon thereafter, the second body is found inside of the mine, having perished via the same means. While attempting to rid themselves of this harmful pest, an earthquake hits the area, trapping Shigeru inside. Later on, he is found wandering the area, though the man has suffered amnesic trauma. Through unexpected means, his memory is jarred, and he reveals that a greater, ancient threat, also dwelling inside of these caverns, is about to be unleashed.


1956's Sora No Daikaiju Radon, also known by its more fun-sounding and more memorable names of Rodan and Rodan! The Flying Monster!, is my first "cheat" film that I've discussed on my yearly marathon. By my own definition, it means that I have previously watched this little monster flick in the past. So why did I choose to include it this year? Well, for starters, I have not seen Rodan in almost twenty years, so my memory was quite poor of everything that didn't revolve around the titular beast. The other reason had to do with having never seen the film in its original Japanese language and cut.


Then I remembered one critical thing: how can I make a comparison between both versions when I have virtually no recollection about the original cut? Eh, screw it. Rodan is one of Toho's more well-known kaiju pictures, featuring one of Godzilla's more recognizable allies and occasional foe, though I've come to find out that a large portion of fans that I've talked to over the years have never sat down and actually watched the flying monster's starring vehicle and debuting picture. This is a real shame, since you have more than just a fun creature feature flick, and is serves as a surprisingly good followup (in terms of destruction, anti-nuclear message, and tone) to the original Gojira. It's also the first Kaiju-based motion picture produced by Toho Studios to be filmed and released in color, and it went on to gross a significant amount of money in North America.


Since I know that most of you don't care a lot about the cast of human beings in pictures such as these, I'll just get my analysis of the main characters out of the way right now. Toho veterans Akihiko Hirata (Dr. Serizawa in Gojira) and Kenji Sahara (of Terror of Mechagodzilla and The Mysterians fame) are competent and fairly likable, though not as memorable as I had hoped that they would be. Mind you, it isn't necessarily their fault, but outside of the latter having some good reactions (or lack thereof) during his scenes post-cavern exit, they just doesn't connect with you in the way that you would expect either of the men to do. But now that they're done for, let's talk about these pteranodon antagonists. Rodan itself has never been the most complex-looking creation, but this is undeniably the best he/she has ever looked. The facial features look menacing, with the addition of visible teeth and a broader, jagged-looking beak really helping to bring this to life. Coupled with this, Rodan's own wingspan isn't too absurdly long either, and hell, even the costume's skin tone doesn't look distorted or too off-puttingly ugly. It's one of Toho's more expressive creations of the "Showa" era, ranking up there with the designs of fan favorites such as Anguirus, Mothra, and peculiar oddball Gigan. I wish that I could say the same for the giant insects (aka the Meganulon) though. I was going to try and be nice about this, but simply put, they just look terrible. The color schemes are fine, but the expression on their faces is so damn goofy, and the puppeteering and body movement just don't convince you that these could be a threat whatsoever. They also come across as a poor man's version of the giant ants from Them!, even going so far as to constantly screech when they are encountered by the public. At least the main perpetrators were portrayed by veteran suit actor Haruo Nakajima, and if that man could make Gojira's legendary creation look impressive, as well as bring life to the prominent namesake of Rodan, then why not let him work on these bugs too? Wait a minute….I just checked online and saw that the Meganulon WERE in fact played by Nakajima-san. Well, I guess someone just wanted to get that work out of the way while they had the chance to.


To go along with a memorable horror that terrorizes both the skies and the ground below, Rodan boasts some nice set pieces and fairly good effects work. I've never quite understood why people such as Eiji Tsuburaya and his crew are lambasted by snobbier movie fans these days. The man knew how to do a hell of a lot with what he had, and despite a lot of this material looking dated in the day and age of CGI, they can put together some great action sequences and create some iconic images (the shot of a post-Rodan Fukuoka engulfed in flames is tremendous). There's also the rather fantastic score of Mr. Akira Ifukube, a brilliantly underrated composer who could always make these type of films feel more epic than they probably deserved to be. His ending theme, the obviously-titled "Finale," is a somber, moving piece that I think deserves to be heard by most fans of foreign cinema.


Despite some little technicalities and complaints that I may have, including Toho's own decision to reuse the flying monstrosity's roar for future creations such as Varan and Battra (not a real knock on this flick though), Rodan has every right in the world to be considered a classic by not just fans of the Toho universe, but by fans of science fiction in general. It boasts a lot of the best work from the "Four Horsemen" of classic Japanese movies, contains a powerfully tragic ending, and just makes for a great time all around.



And before you ask the question, I can assure you that I will not be reviewing Valley Of The Dragons, wherein Rodan makes a "cameo" via stolen stock footage. You know that doesn't count as a real motion picture anyway.

While retrieving treasure off the coast of Ireland, a sea captain and his crew are interrupted by an erupting volcano. At first, the boat is almost sank by the incoming waves, but once it has subsided, and the men return to shore, they notice that an abundance of marine life has been killed, and they fear that something has awoken from the blast. Their assumption proves to be correct, as a leviathan rises up from the sea to attack, but is instead repelled and eventually captured. Taking the creature back to London, and having dubbed it "Gorgo," they sell it to a circus for the public's amusement. During this imprisonment, local scientists discover an odd little fact: Gorgo is still an infant, and his guardian may be searching for him.


Unlike most of the giant monster pictures being released around the time of Godzilla and its ilk/sequels, 1961's Gorgo was filmed and set in the United Kingdom, making it one of the few exceptions from this period to not have a backing from high-profile studios such as Toho and Daiei. Thankfully not feeling deterred or intimidated, this British picture was distributed stateside by the far more well-known MGM, and boasts a surprising list of somewhat-notable names who would go on to work for more prestigious theatrical projects, including Dr. Zhivago (cinematographer Freddie Young), 2001: A Space Odyssey (costar William Sylvester), and Orson Welles' Othello and Chimes At Midnight (composer Angelo Francesco Lavagnino).


Not mentioned above, mostly due to him already having years' worth of experience in the creature feature department, is director Eugene Lourie. Previously the man heading productions such as The Giant Behemoth and the now-legendary feature-length flick The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (which along with King Kong, was the inspiration behind the creation of Godzilla), he does a mostly good job of commanding his leads and helps to keep them from getting too bored by the occasional silliness that surrounds them. Keep in mind, I did say "mostly," since there are quite a few instances of every performer, be they adult or child, resorting to the old-time acting from back in the 1940s and 1950s that I've repeatedly stated to not being a fan of.


Speaking of entertainers, and I do hate to speak ill of the dead, Mick Dillon's performance as the titular beast is one of the reasons as to why I champion the art of suit acting. IN JAPAN. Over the years, I've come to discover that this is such a lost art to those who aren't involved with Eastern cinema, and while its more-advanced cousin can be utilized to great effect no matter which country is involved, there just doesn't seem to be much life coming from Gorgo other than typical "Rarrrr, I'm angry." Take for example the admittedly-stupid Son Of Godzilla. The monsters in that aren't just destructive and angered, they have a wide array of emotions told just through simple body language. Like its Japanese counterparts, Gorgo does possess the same usage of miniature sets and special effects that were pioneered by Eiji Tsuburaya, and some of them, dare I say, look rather good. The mother's rampage throughout London has some very good backdrops and shots (except for a brief moment where she smashes Big Ben), which almost made up for the sheer amount of green screen that I had to suffer through for the first twenty or thirty minutes.


In terms of a plot, and the message of not assuming that humanity could be the greater and more horrific of monsters, it does bear a striking resemblance to Toho's own production Mothra, even though both pictures were released in the same year (and only a few months apart from one another). The choice to make the monster a "freak show" attraction to the general public is also borrowed from King Kong's infamous final act. There's also that distinct feeling of dread and panic from the city once the beast attacks, trying to evoke the same feelings from Gojira. Hell, save for the amphibian ears and more demonic-looking eyes, the Gorgos even LOOK like Godzilla. So, despite all of that nitpicking, would I recommend Gorgo to anybody outside of the obvious diehard kaiju fanatics? At this time, I'd probably say that it's leaning slightly towards a yes, but with an extreme amount of caution.



At the very least, should you not want to suffer through it alone, maybe these three guys below can help you out.

Tomorrow, we're turning on the TV for a trip to the cornfields with Dark Night Of The Scarecrow!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 24 & 25

Yes, I am doing reviews for both days in one post. Why? Because I was more occupied with assorted things than I expected to be. Actually, I believe that is another way of saying that friends were in town and I was also called in to work when I didn't expect to be. Oh well. I actually think that it's fitting considering that both pictures I'm reviewing today have to deal with the upcoming holidays that we simultaneously gleefully await and dread immensely.

On one Christmas Eve, eager and enthusiastic children Harry and Philip Stadling are awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. Hearing strange noises, Harry peeks out into the living room, only to see his mother being groped and seduced by a man dressed as jolly old St. Nick. Thirty three years later, the now-older Harry works a rather monotonous job for a toy factory, often finding himself to be easily taken advantage of by coworkers. After an office party, Harry comes to the realization that nobody takes this holiday seriously anymore and there are more bad people out there in the world than there needs to be. With that, he dons a Santa suit, setting out to reward the nice and punish the naughty.


The very small sub-genre in horror that consists of movies based around the holidays of Christmas and/or Christmas Eve is, to put it lightly, incredibly miniscule. There are the ones that most people know about, such as Black Christmas (both the original and the remake), Silent Night, Deadly Night, and Santa's Slay. Okay, maybe I'm the only human being in this town who is an unabashed fan of that last one, but 1980's Christmas Evil, known originally as You Better Watch Out, has quite a following in this odd community that relishes the chance to watch something this absurd. Not quite a slasher film, but often grouped in with them, it makes for one hell of an interesting, if not obviously dumb viewing experience.


Christmas Evil's main protagonist/antagonist is one Brandon Maggart, who is best known for a very early stint on Sesame Street and for helping give birth to Ms. Fiona Apple. Though he certainly isn't delivering an Academy Award-worthy performance with his portrayal of the disgruntled and marginally psychotic Harry, he does manage to make the man into somewhat of a sympathetic, and slightly fun individual. I mean yes, we all know that there are a lot of scumbags and dishonest human beings out there in this occasionally ugly world that we live in, but they highlight it in such a manner than you wonder if this is going to turn into Death Wish or Taxi Driver, albeit with a red and white costume and beard instead of stylish apparel. Unfortunately, I can't recall much of anything about the rest of the cast, including Jeff DeMunn's (The Walking Dead) character of the younger brother who may be catching on to his sibling's recent exploits and actions. Fans of the actor are not likely going to recognize him, and they also may be disappointed that the bloodshed advertised on assorted posters and covers doesn't begin until about the fifty two minute mark. Don't get me wrong, I liked that they were willing to let the audience familiarize themselves with Harry, and not choose to make him just another generic killer, but the first murder does seem to be a tad bit out of place, and somewhat badly thought out.


Director John Waters (Pink Flamingos, Hairspray) has been quoted as saying that Christmas Evil is "the greatest Christmas movie ever made," and has apparently gone so far as to provide a commentary track for the Synapse Films' release of the picture on DVD. While I don't know if I would go that far, especially since I would love to watch more holiday-horror pictures in the future (perhaps that could be a theme for December), it does make for a fairly trashy, hokey, and fun time, with an added bonus of the most film absurd picture ending that I've seen to date on this marathon. You can currently watch this little gem on sites such as Youtube for the low cost of zero dollars and zero cents. Or, if you are a more patient person, you can wait for the upcoming Blu-Ray/DVD combo pack that is set for home video release on November 18, 2014.



Perhaps there is a chance that on the aforementioned release, they can explain as to whether the film was an influence on another certain crazed version of Kris Kringle.

On the roads of Snowmonton, demented serial killer Jack Frost is on his way in a prison transport which will deservedly drive him to his area of execution. Seemingly out of nowhere, and mostly thanks to horrible weather, the truck containing the mad man hits a tanker, and Jack is freed. Before he can act, however, the genetic material contained in the opposing vehicle breaks free, drenching him in the liquid and dissolving him into nothingness. Unfortunately, Frost does not die, but rather merges with the surrounding snow, changing him into something more frightening than anyone could have ever imagined.


If you're a child of the 1980s and 1990s like I am, there was a very strong possibility that you came across many VHS tapes that featured lenticular covers. With only the slightest bit of movement, something rather nice, gentle, and/or unassuming would change into something more menacing or unpleasant, and would usually entice curious folks such as myself into checking them out. 1997's horror-comedy Jack Frost (obviously of no relation to the picture of the same name released a year later) was one of the more notoriously wacky titles equipped with this advertising method, which started with a gentle-looking snowman turning into what you see above. The main problem is that we never see that creature atop this paragraph, but something far, far worse.


Instead, what we get is a reasonably basic low-budget slasher picture with an awful-looking snowman costume that is dumping all of its cheese into one giant pit, and then makes the risky decision to dive in headfirst. But this cheese is more like the brand that you buy because it's been discounted, and said discount was due to bad feedback. But hey, I personally don't really know why I was expecting quality per se. A large majority of the cast, including a pre-American Pie Shannon Elizabeth, are in "eh, fuck it" mode, but you can't say that you blame them when you consider how dreadful of script that this has as its base. Speaking of Elizabeth, she should be thrilled that the role of Nadia came to her two years after this had wrapped and been released on home video, since I'm sure that she didn't want the highlight on her acting reel to read "I have been assaulted and raped in a bathtub by a cigar-smoking snow sculpture." Speaking of the titular killer, Scott MacDonald's enactment of Jack Nicholson having a Ritalin and Tequila-fed child with Brad Dourif did provide for some occasionally funny lines. Sadly, for every joke that is mildly amusing, there are about ten that just make you groan or grimace. It's like following most comedians that were made famous through Twitter.


There are some positives to Jack Frost though. For one, the murder sequences are somewhat creative, including using the flat end of an axe to kill a grown man rather than the sharpened, metal head. Plus the site of a snowman driving a car into someone is worth at least a quick glance. For nostalgic reasons, I also enjoyed the 90s home video look and wash that it was filmed with. Everything has a slight grain, and the lighting looks like something that would have (and very well may have been) aired on cable channels like Cinemax late at night. There is also some decent practical effects work and makeup to be seen, especially when Jack's human form initially melts after the accident mutates him. But damn, that snowman costume looks really, really lackluster. I'm willing to bet that even a company such as Charles Band's Full Moon Features could have done a better job at making this look acceptable. Of course, they would also most likely abused it like their Puppet Master and Gingerdead Man franchises, and I'd prefer to not see a crossover in the future with either of those series.


So, that's about all that I can say about something like Jack Frost. It isn't very good, and I don't think that you could find much to enjoy unless you are severely inebriated and surrounded by cretins, particularly since it starts to run out of gas past the sixty minute mark (which is coincidentally after Elizabeth's final scene comes to a close). But hell, what do you expect from a movie about a killer snowman?



It is an infinitely better movie than its sequel though. After all, they kill him with bananas in that one.



…….Bananas…….



Tomorrow, I travel back to my childhood again with a 1950s Toho Production: Sora No Daikaiju Radon!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 23

In New York City, a recent string of disappearances and murders, primarily comprised of derelicts, has many befuddled. While a police captain shows a personal interest in these incidents, and even goes so far as to recruit and seek information from the head of a local homeless shelter, a down and out photographer spends his time shooting the populace who reside underneath the bright lights and attractions. Though all of these men come from different sides of the spectrum, they all come to find out that the vanishings are connected with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. Even worse, the NRC has hidden the existence of these true culprits: Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers. But to most, they will soon be known simply as C.H.U.D.

I am the furthest thing from a psychic, yet I know what some of my friends and/or acquaintances are thinking at this very moment. And before they ask "Why the hell haven't you seen this one until 2014," I'd like to say that you can chalk this one up to poor memory and poor timing. I had purchased the Anchor Bay DVD release of C.H.U.D. on a whim at least five years ago, but for some inexplicable reason, was never able to watch more than a good thirty or so minutes before something else would distract me. Giving into my own laziness, I decided that there was no better time than now, and finally popped this into the Blu-Ray player.

*ninety six minutes later*

….I don't even know how to possibly review a picture such as C.H.U.D, since it seems to rebel against all things involved with the process of making good motion pictures, but is also simultaneously so fervent and fierce about its content and story.

C.H.U.D. was initially released by the now-defunct New World Pictures, who you could always count on for delivering something worth remembering, be it good (The Brood, Piranha), great (Hellraiser, Heathers), or really, really silly (Death Race 2000, Flowers In The Attic). It also features a rather young-looking Daniel Stern (City Slickers) and John Heard (of Cat People and stalking-actress-Melissa-Leo-fame), with very early appearances from John Goodman and Jay Thomas as two chauvinistic police officers. They're all very fun to watch, and most of the cast in general are playing these roles with real conviction and honest-to-god earnestness, even if the latter two are basically only there for very bit parts and something to add to their acting resume. Stern himself is playing a lesser version of Richard Dreyfuss' character from Jaws, though his credentials are obviously nowhere near as legitimate. But….it's still a movie about ugly, mutated monsters that live in the sewer and eat people.

Speaking of those creatures, save for some very quick cuts, you don't see a great deal of them until when the seventy minute mark has hit. And yes, they look fairly dumb, with comparisons to The Toxic Avenger having sexual intercourse with the Henrietta deadite from Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn not being too inaccurate. There is also a shocking lack of bloodshed (at least compared to what I've seen so far this year) and foul language for a flick like C.H.U.D., and had this been released in this day and age, there's the very slight possibility that it could have been given a PG-13 rating if they had made the call to cut out at least one or two shots of some severed heads. Don't get me wrong, I've said in the past that rating systems don't usually affect my overall enjoyment of any movie, but for such an absurd, yet fun concept, I was hoping for a tad bit more gruesomeness. It isn't completely bloodless though, and there is some nice practical effects and makeup on some of the poor souls killed by the beasts.

Hmm, maybe I did just review C.H.U.D. after all. It's about as dumb as someone would expect it to be, and the whole "rewritten script" controversy seems like a bit of bollocks (Stern and costar Chris Curry altered writer Parnell Hall's final draft, and chose to remain nameless about the whole thing). However, the whole film is just so wacky and bizarre (if not a bit slow) with how they chose to record and release it, and it does sport a pretty great third act that helps wrap things up in a typically-ludicrous manner while also saying to the audience "screw it, let's just say that nobody is safe now." It might be mostly crud, but C.H.U.D. is the….no, I am not closing with a pun that awful. Sorry. I still have some semblance of dignity.

You know, now that I think about it, something tells me that this could have very well been a prequel to Home Alone. The three performers billed near the top of its cast have all taken part in the series in some way shape or form, and the background for Daniel Stern's character isn't as thoroughly detailed as it could have been. Does this mean smartass Kevin McCallister and underground fuck-ugly, flesh-eating creatures exist in the same universe? Maybe C.H.U.D. II: Bud The C.H.U.D. will tell me those answers one day.

Tomorrow, I notice that we're about two months away from everyone's favorite and/or least favorite holiday, so I get in the spirit of Christmas Evil!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 22

Following the conclusion of the Mexican-American War of the mid-1800s, Second Lieutenant John Boyd has been promoted for an act of bravery which included capturing an enemy's headquarters. However, his superiors soon discover that this was slightly fabricated, as Boyd had faked his death in order to avoid being killed. Exiled to the remote area of Fort Spencer for his act of cowardice, he soon befriends the other occupants. During an ordinary day, a stranger arrives at the stronghold, telling a story of resorting to consume his companions out of desperation, and after the men decide to search for survivors from his entourage, they uncover a secret much worse than they could have ever expected.


Well I'll be damned. I am quite amazed that it has taken me twenty two days to include my first "cannibal" title for my yearly marathon. And what do I choose? An Italian production made back in the 70s or 80s? Or some random title from the last decade or so? Nope. I decided to go with a recently-rereleased title from the folks at Shout! Factory, the late 90s piece known as Ravenous. It seems like I'm subliminally trying to stay away from the decade in which I was born (but that will change later).


I recall seeing the trailers for Ravenous back when the film was being released theatrically, but obviously, I couldn't get in to see it unless my parents were willing to renege on certain rules (I've had to discover most gory or truly disturbing films on my own). Had they known that you could potentially classify this as a black comedy, they may have eased off. Yep, you didn't read that wrong. Writer Ted Griffin, who would go on to help pen the scripts for Matchstick Men and Ocean's 11, blends a rather sick sense of humor with a fairly horrific series of events. In an even more bizarre decision, the film's score is constructed and performed by English musicians Michael Nyman, who has way too many works to his names that I care to list, and Damon Albarn, who is most well known for fronting acts like Blur and Gorillaz. Their compositions alternate between the incredibly tense and the incredibly wacky, resembling something out of a video game soundtrack (Final Fantasy VII came to mind). I don't think it worked as well as they have hoped it would have, but it was undeniably something that stood out, for better or for worse.


For a movie about something so morbid, Ravenous does have some real moments of beauty. Filmed primarily in Slovakia, the scenery and cinematography are quite a sight to behold, almost making you forget that Robert Carlyle's character is butchering human beings for his own consumption. Oh, don't complain about that. If you couldn't piece that together from the above synopsis, then you need to watch more horror movies. But yes, the flick is relatively sick for those with an easy stomach and doesn't skip out on some nice carnage, most of which is provided by the Trainspotting actor mentioned above. While other stars like Memento's Guy Pearce and Beetlejuice's Jeffrey Jones (*cue awkward, uncomfortable groan*) give some solid performances, Carlyle easily steals the show, reveling in the role he's been cast and proving that he is one of Europe's most underrated players when it comes to playing anyone who can be classified as psychotic or unstable. I can also officially say that I forgive Mr. Neal McDonough for his portrayal of M. Bison in Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li, since he does a fairly good job with the limited amount of screen time he gets here. That and he makes for a great Barry Allen and Dum Dum Dugan. I'll say no such thing for David Arquette though, who doesn't serve much of a purpose outside of just being there and acting somewhat stupid. Alright, that isn't too much of a stretch for him. Still, he was the WCW Heavyweight Champion at one point in his career, and that is just unforgivable.


Ravenous is far from perfect, but I can see why it has a fairly decent following, and why there has been some demand for a proper home video release (it should be out on DVD and Blu-Ray as of this writing). It is certainly a unique way to look at one of the more detestable acts that one can commit against his or her fellow man, with an unexpected mystical element that doesn't seem completely out-of-nowhere, at least if you pay attention to a side character's dialogue towards the beginning or know the legend of the "Wendigo." It also skips out on going for the obvious route of wrapping things up with some rather nonsensical, though interesting twists, and I'd ultimately recommend it as a fairly humorous and bloody experience that's worth at least one watch.



Gosh, it sure would have been nice to hear THIS song at least once though.



Tomorrow, I dip back into the 1980s with the underground classic C.H.U.D!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 21

The Winners are a struggling rock and roll band on the verge of breaking up. Vocalist Joey is convinced that should their next tour flop, it will spell the end and lead to a life of boredom and complacency. After a gig, their bassist Jennifer runs off with a mysterious stranger, promising to return in the morning for their trip to the next city of their itinerary. While she does indeed live up to her promise, she comes back looking a little paler and hungrier than before, and the band slowly discovers that their bass player has become one of the undead. Much to their surprise, this proves to be anything but a detriment, instead leading to previously-unseen interest in their uncluttered tunes.


Back in February and/or March, I had plans to do a small mini-marathon entitled "The Blockbuster Bunch," which would have focused on a myriad of titles that my cheap self picked up from the now-defunct video rental chain. The bad news is that thanks to laziness, this never fully materialized (though it may later if time is on my side this holiday season). The good news is that quite a few of these flicks have made their way onto this year's list, including The Midnight Meat Train, Dead Sushi, and Overtime. Today, I'm taking a chance on another one of these random picks, writer/director Rob Stefaniuk's rock and roll vampire-comedy Suck.


And boy am I glad that I did. For the past few days, I had been suffering through some real dreck, proving to my friends that I may in fact be a masochist (that or just willing to watch what nobody else will). When a movie as fun as Suck comes along, it's the type of experience that makes you forget the pains of those previous entries. For starters, everyone just looks like they're having a good time filming and starring in this picture, and thankfully don't forsake keeping the audience entertained as well. Suck's cast is surprisingly large too considering that it wasn't filmed with the highest of budgets (travel montages are made of claymation sequences). From the realm of music, we get Henry Rollins as a loudmouthed DJ, Alex Lifeson of Rush as a Canadian border guard, Alice Cooper as a bartender, and Burning Brides/Off! guitarist Dimitri Coats (looking like a combination of Jack White and Johnny Depp's portrayal of the Mad Hatter) as the vampiric musician who turns Jennifer into a bloodsucker. There are quite a few more to look out for, but for the sake of this review, I won't say who shows up and where. Malcolm McDowell also turns up as a vampire hunter with a connection to Coats' character (and spouts possibly the best line in the movie). In a cool little trick, they use and edit footage from 1973's O Lucky Man! for flashback sequences, wherein McDowell himself was a young man in his 30s.


Not letting the cameos make up most of the praise, the band and their crew (particularly their VERY French-Canadian roadie Hugo) provide some entertaining and purposely comedic moments as well. As I've done once before so far during this year's countdown, I'll have to let my primal male instincts out for once: Jessica Pare's Jennifer, bassist for the band and frontman Joey's ex-girlfriend, is stupidly, undeniably attractive, and probably the best-looking female vampire that I've seen in at least a decade. Don't let the looks fool you though, since Suck reminds you that while vampires may be "cool" in this day and age thanks to mainstream successes like Twilight and similar ilk, they are still horrifying monsters with an appetite for death and murder. As of the time of this writing, I'm not certain as to whether the band themselves were playing their own tunes, but I sure hope that was the case. In this universe, the Winners might be viewed as a band whose tunes as less-than-spectacular and impassioned, but damn are some of them catchy. The aforementioned Burning Brides also contribute two songs to the picture, including the pretty great and gloomy "Flesh and Bone," whose video you can view down below.

All of that fellating aside, and as much as I thought that the build to the inevitable was very pleasing, it does make for a somewhat rushed climax. Suck also boasts quite a few moments of over-the-top content, and while that kind of goes hand in hand with rock and roll, it may turn some people off. Me though? I've sat through men getting their penises ripped off by cheap-looking bigfoot costumes in this year's iteration, and I've also had to watch a Leprechaun movie without a real god damn leprechaun, so I didn't have a problem whatsoever.


So, you see kids? There IS such a thing as a great blind buy in this day and age. Suck might sport one of the simpler, and debatably stupider titles in recent memory (which could be one of the reasons as to why most pass it over in favor of other films), but it's definitely worth your time considering that it mostly flew under the radar with only a select few hearing about its very limited theatrical release. If you can find this for a decently cheap price, or at the very least, on an accessible streaming site that isn't outrageously expensive, give it a watch one afternoon or evening with some likeminded friends and fans of horror-comedies based around the devil's music, for which I know there aren't a lot to choose from.



Besides, getting to see Henry Rollins with hair again is worth the price alone.



Tomorrow, I stay hungry (hardy har har) and dig into Ravenous!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 20

Previously an ugly duckling and a cliched good girl, high schooler Mandy Lane has suddenly matured and blossomed in shockingly quick fashion. Over the course of the summer, she is invited to join a group of fellow students for a getaway trip to a secluded and isolated ranch. Secretly, the men on the trip all begin to compete for the affections of the attractive young woman, thinking of different ways to get her attention and get into her pants. But while the festivities continue at the isolated terrain, a mysterious stalker begins to take out her classmates.


At this point in 2014, most horror fans are familiar with the long-troubled release of Jonathan Levine's modern day slasher, the peculiarly-titled All The Boys Love Mandy Lane. But for those of you reading this who aren't acquainted, here's the cliff notes version of its wacky history: long before he directed pictures such as The Wackness and 50/50, Levine had worked on a low budget horror flick that was completed in 2006. Outside of select screenings at the occasional festival or convention (and a very limited release for U.K. audiences in 2008), it was never screened or released Stateside for modern horror audiences for an agonizing time of seven years, mostly due to its distributor going bankrupt after purchasing it from the oh-so-powerful Weinstein Company. Just when fans thought it would be condemned to obscurity, and would likely never see the light of day until another new video format came out, it was released as a video-on-demand title during the fall of 2013, with a DVD and Blu-Ray release coming shortly thereafter.


Naturally, the main question on everyone's mind is "Was it worth the wait?" And the answer is….well, kind of. This isn't your typical slasher, thought Darren Genet's cinematography does suggest a throwback to the mid/late 70s motion pictures coming out at the time. The performances are all earnest, and as an admitted non-fan of actor Johnny Depp's current fiancé Amber Heard (Pineapple Express, Alpha Dog), I'm willing to eat crow and say that she did a pretty damn good job as the titular character. It's fairly obvious that she's playing the innocent young woman who damn near everyone is trying to corrupt, but whereas most actresses would have just made the subject of everyone's desires into a droll and meaningless individual, she brings a nice earnestness to Mandy that kept it alive for someone like me. There's also Michael Welch's (Twilight) Emmet, a shunned friend of the woman who even through occasional moments of insanity, is very easy to identify with. You'd have to be as blind as bat to not draw comparisons to the teenagers who committed the awful Columbine High School massacre, though it is a little uncomfortable at times.


And yet, despite all of those accolades, something just didn't click that well in All The Boys Love Mandy Lane. I'm not quite sure as to whether the last ten minutes of its running time were what did me in and made me shift gears on the final verdict, but it felt all-too-familar at the end of the day. The film's script by Jacob Forman suggests a smarter and more satirical movie than what we end up seeing on screen, and some of the moments in its first half gives off way too much of a late 90s vibe for someone like myself. Oh, and there's the slight hint of a certain "South Park" episode, which made me wonder if this was supposed to be a black comedy more than a horror film.


I wish that All The Boys Love Mandy Lane would have received a proper release closer to its time of completion, since I get the feeling that it will get lost in the shuffle of equally-clever horror motion pictures that were seen by wide audiences, such as The Cabin In The Woods or Tucker And Dale Vs. Evil. But as it stands, you catch this one on Netflix Instant Streaming and decide for yourself as to whether you think that it should have stayed on the shelf or should have been given the fair treatment that it deserves.



You know it's a dated picture when you see teenagers using flip-phones though.



Tomorrow (well, today), I go for something for musical with Suck!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 19

Backpacking through the Irish countryside, two young couples begin to mingle with the local townsfolk. Much to their surprise, they are given the offer to take up residence in a nice cabin near the edge of the terrain's woods. Naturally, they agree to do so. To their horror, however, they come upon a dark, terrible secret: the cabin, along with the surrounding environment, serve as a killing field for a creature of Irish folklore. That monster is a leprechaun, and the four youths discover that the residents of Ireland have been luring innocents to the territory, so that it may satiate this monstrosity's lust in an attempt to make up for past mistakes.


Forgive me for typing a relatively short review, but it's late, and my mind and vision have been rotted from sitting through two particularly bad films within the past two days. No, Only Lovers Left Alive was not one of those aforementioned pictures. That was a good picture. That distinct dishonor and shameful title goes to this hunk of crap.


When I first heard that there was going to be another entry in the Leprechaun franchise, I shuttered a little bit. Then, I heard that it was going to be a reboot, sans star antagonist Warwick Davis. That shutter turned into a groan. After THAT revelation, I discovered that it was being produced by the oh-so-reliable WWE Studios and it would star Dylan "Hornswoggle" Postl, one of my bottom ten least favorite performers currently employed in the world of professional wrestling, as the titular horror villain. Groan turned into face palming, and well, you get the idea.


It only takes you four minutes to realize that something is horribly, horribly wrong with Leprechaun: Origins. For starters, the entire flick is devoid of any and all humor that was found in the original. Yes, I agree that the previous entries' brand of jokes and gags were quite embarrassing at times, but at the very least, you tend to remember scenes such as the man who played Willow killing someone with a pogo stick or when rapper/actor Ice-T smokes marijuana with an evil rascal out to kill him. Origins is played like a straight forward horror film, down to the devilish imp looking like a bloodthirsty creature with an occasional affinity for gold, screeching and growling along the way….wait, what? Unfortunately, if you're expecting to see Hornswoggle attempt to imitate or mime sequences that we've already become accustomed with (but why would you?), then you're in for a rather large disappointment. Instead, we see occasional glimpses of the wrestler dressed in a costume that looks like if one of the blind, underground beings from The Descent had a mutated child with an orc from The Lord Of The Rings. Add to that the fact that nearly every characteristic about this new beast is a knockoff of something we've seen before. He has "alternative" vision similar to that of the alien bounty hunter from Predator (even going so far as to rip out a young man's spine) and stalks his prey in the long grass like the velociraptors from The Lost World: Jurassic Park. To an extent, it even gives off a strong Pumpkinhead vibe, but it is nowhere near as menacing or memorable as that unappreciated creation of the sorely missed Stan Winston.

You had one job Leprechaun: Origins. You had one, simple job that even an inexperienced person like myself could do. Not only did you fail at completing it, but you accomplished said failure in ways that even a pessimist like myself didn't think was possible. Hell, you even managed to screw up THIS hilariously bad line from your 1993 forefather. I could have spent my cherished money on something more productive, such as food from Taco Bell's dollar menu. True, it will lead to my inevitable diabetes diagnosis, but at least it will taste better going down.



I don't even want me gold returned, I want me god damn time back you cunt of a movie.



Tomorrow, we'll attempt to salvage something good from this year's marathon again with the long-delayed All The Boys Love Mandy Lane!