Unseen Terror 2023: Piégé En Enfer (Day 19)

Though I'm fairly certain I've stated it before, I grew up as a "90s baby." I don't have as much attachment to a great deal of properties established in the decade prior to it as others do, but I'm always willing to catch up. There often seems to be this rather strange opinion that the 1990s were a dark time for horror, and when you consider how many of the titans of the genre fell off fast and hard, it's understandable to be critical. Plus, you had the emergence of "meta" slashers which almost seemed to insinuate that the genre itself had become predictable (not true). However, in recent years, I feel as though the champions of 90s horror have been winning people over by reminding them that horror wasn't just alive during that time period, but it was evolving, and more creative ideas were coming to the forefront. The low-budget Canadian oddball known as Cube was one such film that garnered a lot of attention upon release, but I'll admit that I never got around to viewing it until now because...well, I'm not quite sure why. Sometimes I just take a while to do things, okay?

Cube's plot revolves around a group of six strangers who wake up trapped inside of a small room with no memory of how they ended up there. It doesn't take long to realize that everyone is trapped inside of what is essentially a maze. For every room you enter, there is a chance that it could contain either a hint of how to escape or a horrific booby trap. The "horror game" subgenre has grown larger over the last few years with the popularity of the Saw franchise, but the blueprints for its explosion are found directly in Cube. Unlike those flicks however, I had a more genuine sense of dread and claustrophobia than I ever imagined. This is such a large labyrinthian prison, and once I discovered that most of this film was shot in essentially one room (with lighting tricks and clever camera cuts covering up its lack of budget), my respect for it only grew. It's like what the immortal Burt Gummer once said: doing what you can with what you got.

However, there is a complaint that knocks Cube down a peg for me, and that all comes down to the on-screen performances. Don't get me wrong, nobody is BAD in this per se (not a fan of casting someone who's not on the spectrum as an autistic person though), but the exchanges between characters feels very snippy, hostile, and carefree to the point which does make it feel a bit dated. Perhaps the screenwriters were in a bit of rush to get the project started as soon as possible. One character also has a remarkably fast descent into madness which admittedly does result in a pretty scary performance, but also feels like it could have been fleshed out a bit more. Still, even as someone who isn't afraid of close spaces, I CAN imagine that I'd probably lose my mind in there at some point, even if it would probably take more than just a single day. There are also some pretty big questions that never get the answers that we are (seemingly) promised, but as I understand there is a sequel out there. Perhaps that will explain a bit more. Or not, who knows. *shrugs*

Some dated 90s cliches aside, I was thoroughly entranced by Cube and really enjoyed the overall product. It's a remarkably smart, slick sci-fi/horror hybrid that makes the most use of its lower cost and delivers a story that's never boring. A weird little gem for people who are patient (or who grew up wanting to be mathematicians!). As of this writing, it's streaming on a majority of services (Plex, Tubi, and Pluto TV have it). Give it a whirl unless you're a square. 

.....wait don't go! The days of bad puns are over, I s(q)wear.

Yeah, that one was worse.

Unseen Terror 2022: Catching Up, Wrapping Up, Up Yours

 Y'know, maybe doing these in spurts rather than daily entries is a bit easier for me than I thought. Then again, I'm hoping that when/if I get around to doing this yet again next October, my life will be a little less hectic and full of fewer moments where I want to pull my hair out and strangle myself with it. Anyway, here's the last batch for 2022's iteration of "Unseen Terror." Let's not waste any further time.

DAY 25: 

My familiarity with 1998's Halloweentown, which revolves around a group of kids (whose grandmother may or may not be a witch except she totally is) who accidentally find themselves in another world where monsters live and interact with one another on a normal basis, is.......actually, I had never even heard of this made-for-TV flick until perhaps a year or so ago. I feel as though when it initially premiered on Disney back in the day, I had focused my shift on other programming that catered more to my angsty, preteen self (a.k.a. it's hyper violent anime and "attitude era" wrestling or nothing at all). Still, the list of family-friendly spooky features is nowhere near as impressive as it once was, so I figured that finally adding this to my queue was long overdue. I kind of wish that I had deviated from the norm during the latter half of the 90s however, because for every charming part that can be found in Halloweentown, there is a bit too much in the way of "lowest common denominator" goofiness for my liking. Don't get me wrong, I usually adore a good silly horror/horror-adjacent movie from time to time, but this REALLY relies on you having young ones of your own to watch it with. A lot of the jokes fall flat, though the late Debbie Reynolds' charm does prevent it from ever falling over completely. If I didn't detest the idea of having children or of having people make physical contact with me, I feel as though I would've been into this a bit more. As it stands though, it's still serviceable. Nice to see Judith Hoag of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fame pop up in something else too. She's pretty fun and still one of my earliest childhood crushes.

DAY 26:

Another "cheat" day for me. Oh well. Not much else I can talk about when it comes to the wonderful 90s cheese that is Bride of Chucky. It's a silly romp with some very stylish kills and a snazzy script that is unapologetically "90s." I think my only real complaint comes from the lead humans being so dreadfully uninteresting though. I don't know if Andy Barclay was necessary for every entry in the Child's Play franchise (especially given how awesome Fiona Dourif's Nica is later on), but the young lovebirds here (one of whom is played by a very young Katherine Heigl) are just so bland compared to our protagonist from the prior three movies. Still worth checking out, even if it is a tiny bit dated. Soundtrack still kicks an unholy amount of ass though (especially that Monster Magnet song).

DAY 27:

It appears as though The Simpsons duped me this year. Around this time every October, their annual "Treehouse of Horror" anthology airs on television, and in more recent years, ends up on either Hulu or Disney afterwards. Even though I've grown pretty darn tired of the show that I will still refer to as my favorite animated show of all time (if you're willing to forget that it's been bad/below average longer than it's been good at this point), I will always make an effort to watch those however I can. Much to my delight, I saw that the newest entry, which seemed to include a segment solely dedicated to parodying Stephen King's It (more so the 2017 adaptation), was up on Hulu. Then it started, and I realized this was an ENTIRE EPISODE dedicated to this parody. As it turns out, the REAL "Treehouse of Horror" anthology had yet to air on Fox, and this is sort of a special treat to tide us over for the time being. The episode, titled "Not It," is.... fine. Nothing particularly noteworthy other than saying that the animation department deserves a raise for making this look as good as it does (the Krusty/Pennywise character has some particularly nasty-looking transformation sequences) and poor Julie Kavner needs a goddamn break already. A decent time killer, but not much more beyond that.

DAY 28:

Finnish horror doesn't really get discussed too often, does it? To be fair, that's because Finland doesn't have the largest selection of scarier titles to choose from. Hell, off the top of my head, the only one that comes to mind for me was Dark Floors (previously reviewed here) and the less said about that one the better. I do recall finding the initial trailer for 2022's Hatching on the always reliable Bloody Disgusting, and once I heard it described as one of the freshest takes on the "body horror" subgenre, I was fully on board. Plus, every poster I've seen kinda slaps.

Thankfully I was not disappointed in this rather creepy and bleak flick, and I think it will stand out as one of the best of this year's marathon. The story is centered around a young gymnast named Tinja, whose sole purpose in life is seemingly that of pleasing her arrogant, somewhat delusional mother. As an active "influencer" and vlogger, the mom is content on presenting herself, her husband, and her children as the ideal, average, yet pristine family that one could hope to become one day. After a strange set of circumstances leave Tinja having to mercifully kill a crow that her mother thought she had disposed of (it's a long story), she comes across an egg that (seemingly) belonged to the bird before its death. Tinja nurtures and cares for the egg in secret, but when it finally hatches, what emerges is something that will shatter the mind and change Tinja's life forever. 

The earliest comparisons that were being thrust towards Hatching's way were to that of the early 2000s gem Ginger Snaps (and not just because of having some deceptively gnarly-looking practical effects). While I do think that such a thing is unfair, it also isn't completely unwarranted. Without giving too much away, many of Hatching's themes and plot developments are not-so-subtle metaphors for puberty, breaking free of restraints, and "becoming" a woman. Tinja (played wonderfully by Siiri Solalinna) is a tragic character, whose peaceful demeanor and insistency that she can't displease her mother, echoing that of a few people that I know personally (and I'd argue to say even myself). You are truly rooting for her through all of the chaos. The rest of the supporting cast is also quite exceptional, with actress Sophia Heikkila playing perhaps the most detestable parental figure I've seen in a good while. It's the kind of performance where you have to really remind yourself that there is a good chance the actress is a wonderful person in real life, but man is she good at convincing you that she plays rotten people well.

Hatching is a truly remarkable and occasionally unsettling feature that will proudly sit as one of the better viewings from this year's marathon (unless you're an animal lover. There are a couple of scenes in here that are pretty upsetting to see). I'm always happy to discover new oddities from other parts of the world to add to my "favorites" list, and I'm also happy that we have another new female voice in the horror genre in the form of director Hanna Bergholm, whose career I'll be keeping a close eye on. It's currently streaming on Hulu in Finnish w/ English subtitles, and it has a pretty brisk running time to boot!

DAY 29:

I have not ventured out into the theater nearly as often as I used to pre-pandemic, and despite the fact that the highly lauded Barbarian (written and directed by Zach Cregger of The Whitest Kids U' Know fame) seemed to be playing for what felt like an eternity (primarily due to excellent word of mouth) I was not willing to risk getting Covid for a second time. True, I do work in retail, but at least there I can back away a bit if I feel like someone is standing just a tad too close to me. Thankfully the sleeper hit made its way onto the HBO Max streaming service about a week or so ago, so I was able to do some last-minute shuffling and properly squeeze it into my queue.

Without giving too much away, I can safely say that I truly regret not seeing Barbarian on a larger screen, and especially in a theater filled with vocal and passionate horror fans. It is structured in a way that certainly feels as though it was designed to elicit as many utterances of "Oh shit!" from an unsuspecting audience. I feel as though the best way to ensure that you enjoy this creepy little oddball is to go into it as blind as you can. Besides laying my eyes on its poster, my only familiarity came from seeing that Justin Long (playing perhaps one of the biggest, self-centered assholes I've seen all year) was in the cast, and he's easily one of the best aspects of this frequently chaotic tale about.... shit, I don't want to spoil much. Well, let's just say that it involves staying at an AirBnB and I'll leave it at that. Cool? Anyway, this is a very tight, well-crafted sick little flick that gives us another new(ish) name to keep an eye on in the world of horror.

DAY 30:

Oh, NOW we get the proper "Treehouse of Horror," huh? This friggin' show, I swear...

Anyway, confusion aside, the annual spooky Simpsons anthology is something I never miss, and much to my surprise, this may have been one of the strongest ones they've had in a long time. The first story is a not-so-subtle parody of The Babadook, with Marge and Maggie serving as the main characters and Julie Kavner doing her damnedest to not sound like she wants to keel over or cough up her larynx. It's probably the most forgettable of the segments, but it wasn't terrible by any means. The second story is undoubtedly the one that has garnered the most attention from old, new, and non-fans alike: "Death Tome" is The Simpsons doing an unabashed love letter to and parody of the classic Japanese series "Death Note." Hell, they even contacted the original studio behind the anime adaptation to animate this particular segment so that it looks as accurate as they can possibly be (without potentially getting sued I assume). Seeing Lisa play the role of Light Yagami and wielding the "power" to end anyone's life if she so pleases makes for some fun gags. It's a cute story and a real visual treat. Finally, the third story is an homage to "Westworld," wherein we discover that the entire Simpsons universe is closer to that of a Disney World-style amusement park. Naturally, something goes wrong, and the "Homer Bot" becomes self-aware while also trying to figure how to get out of this "Simpsons World." Even if you have no interest whatsoever in watching this year's "Treehouse" in its entirety, this segment is absolutely worth tracking down. It is primarily catered towards the "lapsed" fanbase with tons of easter eggs thrown in and it gave me some of the first genuine, hearty laughs that I've gotten from The Simpsons in goodness knows how long. It also features a charming little cameo at the very end from another beloved Fox character. Overall, a damn good surprise.

DAY 31:

It's funny: I don't know how 1980's utterly bizarre and trippy Altered States ended up as the last movie that I would end this year's "Unseen Terror" with, especially since I usually try to go out with either something Halloween-related or with something that is closer to "pure" horror. One could argue that perhaps this belongs more on a monthly "Sci-Fi" marathon than it does on one focused primarily on pure terror, but I suppose I'll be the one to say that this was far more unsettling and unnerving than most of the pictures I've watched during this year's selection. That, and you could make the argument for it being "body horror" even more than science fiction. Regardless of whatever you would like to classify it as, it should be go down as a damn fine experiment in the realm of cinema.

The plot to Altered States is a bit of a mouthful (then again, trying to describe most of Ken Russell's pictures can be rather difficult): William Hurt plays a psychopathologist who believes that our "other states of consciousness" are as just as real as the ones that we experience in our mundane, ordinary lives. He begins to experiment with different means in which to research this: first, he uses a sensory deprivation tank. Years later, he ventures to Mexico where he hears of ancient rituals involving sacred mushrooms and shrubs. He consumes a potion that gives him intense, horrific hallucinations and he begins to wonder if perhaps some of these visions are genetic memories rather than strange visions. To be perfectly honest with you, I do not know if I am even doing the greatest job at describing this. Of course, I can't pretend to sound eloquent if I just typed out "William Hurt does a lot of weird drugs and shit gets strange bruh."

There is a lot to unpack with this fascinating feature. For starters, it's easily the most unique film I've watched during this year's marathon and could arguably outdo any other entry from the past few years' worth of selections on this blog in terms of weirdness. The visual aesthetic and vibe in Altered States is a beast of its own. One may find themselves wondering if the late William Hurt (making his film debut here) may be experiencing morbid visions or flat-out prophesizing, and his performance is simply electric. It also has perhaps one of the more notorious instances of squabbling between a film's director and the author behind the source material that said film is an adaptation from. While I can't say that I've read screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky's original novel, my interest was most certainly piqued after watching this flick. He might've hated Ken Russell's handling of his story, but if there's even a smidge of what was seen here in the book itself, I can't wait to read it.

Altered States serves as one of the finest examples of how to combine sci-fi and horror into one, (mostly) cohesive, terrifying beast that can please both circles while also still doing just enough to potentially entice one side over to the other if they were ever hesitant. The acting and score are equally fantastic, and the visuals are striking enough to make you both want to try every drug imaginable and to never pick up anything that could even be construed as a "substance." It's a real feast for the eyes and the brain, and I could only imagine how this would've gone down had I watched it in another "state of mind."

And with that...we are finished. For now.

Come back very soon though, for I need to issue a proper update about the future of this marathon and give readers a nice little bonus or two. Stay tuned!

Unseen Terror 2022: Day 3

It's no secret that I'm a pretty diehard "kaiju eiga" fanatic, which stems back to when I saw my first Godzilla films around the time that I was entering second grade. In the three decades that have followed, I've been able to witness the genre twist and turn into all sorts of directions while still retaining some of its utter majesty and, well, coolness. As technology advances forward (with the likes of The Big G and King Kong themselves being entirely digitally rendered now), a motion picture like 2019's Howl from Beyond the Fog is a welcome throwback to a time when these features were doing what they could with what they had in terms of financial backing (if any at all). In this case, Howl is a beautifully done low budget short film featuring a cast comprised of nothing but puppets.

No, you certainly didn't read that wrong. Remember what I said yesterday?

The story is set during Japan's Meiji era, which ran for close to sixty years back in the 1860s. A young man named Eiji returns to Kyushu to meet his mother but when he arrives, he is startled to meet a blind woman named Takiri living with her, who instructs him to never speak of their encounter because according to her she's "supposed to be dead." One evening he spots Takiri near a lake. She hums softly and summons a giant creature from the water. Initially frightened, Eiji flees, but soon discovers through Takiri that this monster (named "Nebula") is quite misunderstood. Around this same time, developers are attempting to convince Eiji's mother to sell her land to facilitate the construction of a dam. Without going too much into spoilers, things...don't go well.

What makes Howl feel like a such a special little piece isn't just its aforementioned filmmaking choice, but how much they're able to accomplish by nearly make you forget that you're staring at primarily stone-faced marionettes and dolls. It also has remarkably good atmosphere in utilizing fog and water effects without it looking very jarring or the contrast being too noticeable. The score is also artistically orchestrated but not overpowering. I suppose that if I were to have any complaints (other than wishing this was a full-length feature and not a short film) it would be that the voice acting is a bit on the hit-or-miss side. Eiji and Takiri's performers are very good, but the film's primary antagonists sound very static or unenthusiastic rather than menacing or cruel. Those are very minor complaints though, as the positives far outweigh the negatives here.

I'm likely preaching to the choir here, but Howl from Beyond the Fog is an essential watch for those who are searching for something that is a love letter to the kaiju genre that doesn't seem like pandering. It's a beautiful passion project made by and for fans who yearn for something a little different but not distinctly alien. Currently, it's streaming on both Amazon Prime and Tubi. The actual movie itself runs for about thirty minutes, and the second half of its "runtime" is a behind-the-scenes look at its inception and creation. Pretty sweet.

Oh, I didn't mention that Nebula is cool, did I? Because Nebula totally is.

Tomorrow, we're ditching class and elegance and going back to Italy for some BRAAAAIIIIINNSSS.