Unseen Terror 2018: Day 24

It is with the utmost apologies that I must retract a statement made on yesterday's post. After sitting through Prom Night III, I had concluded that the franchise was going into the same direction that Sleepaway Camp did (initial film is serious, sequels become progressively sillier). Thanks to Prom Night IV: Deliver Us from Evil, I'm not quite sure of what the hell this series wants to do anymore. After heading into the realm of horror-comedy, the fourth film in the Prom Night universe decides to go back to basics. There's no supernatural elements, over-the-top humor, or Mary Lou. Just a demented killer (in this case, a priest that has suffered a psychotic breakdown from years of sexual abuse and must punish sinners) stalking adult actors that are playing promiscuous, older teenagers. It also chooses to emphasize the "slow burn" ala the first movie, rather than go for a relentless bloodbath. So, with these decisions in mind, does it amount to a decent little flick?

Boy, I'm legitimately shocked by how much I disliked this follow-up. Prom Night IV sacrifices any of the potential excitement that was present in the second and third entries, and those choices amount to something that you wouldn't even bat an eye towards if it came on at 3:00 A.M. while you were drunkenly channel surfing. While the first Prom Night wasn't exactly a barn burner, it at least had the addition of Jamie Lee Curtis to prevent boredom from kicking in, and it rewarded your patience with some nice kills along with a fairly memorable finale. The same can't be said for this flick though. Here, the list of performers does boast some surprising finds, including Fringe showrunner J.H. Wyman, Nicole de Boer from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Cube, and future Degrassi and Donkey Kong Country (remember that show?) star Joy Tanner. None of them are particularly bad, but the material that they're working with is another level below substandard and with how ridiculously sluggish the pace often is (much like its ancestor, it takes close to an hour before any real slaughtering begins), it makes the movie a real chore to get through. There's a scene involving Tanner playfully trying to "seduce" de Boer's character that while obviously is a cheap ploy to arouse the males in the audience, ends up coming across as slightly homophobic when you look at it now. Perhaps the only decent part of Prom Night IV's story comes from the not-quite-subtle criticism of the Catholic Church in the form of the evil Father Jonas, but even he's a fairly bland slasher villain when compared to pretty much everyone else out there, and ESPECIALLY when you remember that he's supposed to be our replacement for the charismatic and fun Mary Lou Maloney. Besides, it's likely that you'll never be able to top Lester Lowe from Silver Bullet, so don't even try son.


I'm always upset whenever I see a promising franchise either end on a whimper (Critters) or just outstay its welcome by churning out crappy sequel after crappy sequel (Hellraiser). Much like someone I know who does read this blog (sup Maddux!), I feel like the best thing that one can do with Prom Night IV is what they did with the aforementioned Sleepaway Camp: recommend the first three pictures, actively tell them to avoid the fourth, and reiterate that they should REALLY not bother with it should they offer you a halfhearted chuckle in return. However, if you are committed to finishing this damn franchise like I am (not counting the remake), then sure, go ahead and drop close to thirty dollars on the DVD that comes packed with its far superior predecessor. Or go stream it on Amazon Prime. Or just lock yourself in your room and google search for more photos of Courtney Taylor from Prom Night III.

Tomorrow, I think I'm done with slashers, and I feel like it's time to restore some dignity back to Unseen Terror. Much like before, maybe Criterion can provide me with some quality entertainment?

Don't Breathe (2016) Review

Three young, small time criminals spend most of their time breaking into various homes, stealing only what is requested of their superiors or employers. Despite seemingly enjoying what they do on a regular basis, at least two are growing frustrated with this profession, longing to leave this life behind and begin anew. When one receives a tip about a residence that supposedly contains upwards of $300,000 in cash stashed inside of a basement, the group agree to one last heist. While on stakeout, they discover that not only is this abode inhabited by one, older man, but that the homeowner is blind. Later that evening, as the break-in is commencing, the solitary resident is revealed to be nowhere near as defenseless as he may appear to others, and that this dilapidated dwelling houses some very sinister secrets.

"I'm sorry, but North America just doesn't produce any good horror films anymore." 

As a movie lover and reviewer, if I may be able to request one thing these days, it would be that such a statement as that be put out to pasture. Over the last six years, we have been lucky enough to receive a large number of motion pictures that serve as not only adoring love letters to the fanbase and the genre's past, but a good chunk of releases, be they released to on-demand services or cineplexes, that have also managed to gather the necessary testicular fortitude to push it into a daring, new direction. Yes, there are still a myriad of unnecessary remakes and reboots that seem to come out more frequently than even I would expect, but they rarely affect the legacy of the originals, and are often forgotten about within a staggeringly short amount of time. Naturally, the response to some of the previously mentioned pictures in mind has been rather divisive, but that is expected from nearly anything to come along these days. To say that cynicism and hints of nihilism is a large problem in the communities of nearly everything that I personally like would be an understatement. However, with something as prominent as the "home invasion" sub-genre occasionally being forgotten about (save for gems such as Adam Wingard's You're Next), taking a risk by switching things up and having those who are burglarizing end up as the victims instead, is an opportunity that I believe is vital for the genre's survival.

As it turns out, 2016's Don't Breathe, written/directed by Fede Alvarez (Evil Dead 2013) and distributed by Robert Tapert and Sam Raimi's (Army of Darkness, Spider-Man) Ghost House Productions (Drag Me To Hell, 30 Days Of Night), is one of the best theatrically-released horror films that I have seen in recent memory. Heck, even though I am typing this in the month of August, I would not be shocked whatsoever to see this end up in my own personal "top ten" list towards the end of the year. A horror/thriller piece that is ripe with this much tension throughout its eighty-eight minute running time deserves all of the praise that is bestowed upon it. If you are the type of fan that pays good money to see horror flicks with the intention of being scared, or at least feeling so nervous that it could potentially induce nausea, this could be like discovering that the finest bottle of sake that you normally would go out of your way to seek is suddenly available right down the road. What a rather glorious feeling. What is sure to elicit the most amount of recognition during this feature's run over the course of the next month or two will be the wonderful cinematography and lighting, which is powerful enough to make the most claustrophobic and nyctophobic of people want to soil themselves. Unfortunately, that rules out the possibility of my own father ever viewing Don't Breathe, but you can't please everyone folks. It also packs a creepily effective score courtesy of Sexy Beast's Roque Banos, who knows not to be overbearing or obnoxious with a project such as this.

One of the wiser choices from somewhat-new heads sitting in the director's chair, as well as up-and-coming casting directors such as Rich Delia (Dallas Buyers Club, 2017's It), is to choose relatively unrecognizable faces as both heroes and villains. With this, Fede Alvarez manages to conjure up some exceptionally well done acting from our relatively minuscule list of performers. Evil Dead alumni Jane Levy is back after what seems like an eternity of absence from the big screen (hey, three years can seem that much longer in a horror fanatic's world), and reminds folks yet again about why publications and websites such as Forbes and Complex were so high on the very talented woman and her future in the world of entertainment. Her other companions, portrayed by Goosebumps' Dylan Minnette, and It Follows' Daniel Zovatto, are also in very fine form, with both adding more humanity to Don't Breathe to help keep it grounded and interesting. Quite often, you can pick out a weak link among any sort of ensemble, no matter the size, but that is far from the case in Don't Breathe. Admittedly, I have complained multiple times in the past about my personal gripes with how some characters act in situations such as these (it was my main reason for being unenthused with 2006's Them, a.ka. Ils), but when you consider their circumstances, personalities, and disappointing lives outside of their profession, being cross at them for taking certain actions becomes far more understandable.

Of course, what is a good horror movie without a diabolical reprobate? Avatar's Stephen Lang delivers one hell of a nerve-racking performance as The Blind Man (if my memory serves me right, our trio of robbers never learn his real name), and he is easily the most unique foe to come along in one of these films in several years. The aged citizen is cold, creepy, and underneath it all, assuredly deranged. While you do feel more than a few ounces of sympathy for the elderly gentlemen throughout the first half of the film's running time, its twists and turns slowly remind you that even handicapped individuals such as this one can keep terrible, awful mysteries hidden from the general public. At the risk of minor spoilers, to say that you experience a complete 180 degree turnaround on your opinion of the man, especially if you are a woman, is the most obvious statement of the year. It makes the events surrounding these poor souls, and Don't Breathe as a whole, that much more demented and daring. The Blind Man is also accompanied by a rather intimidating, relentless pet Rottweiler, who at times, manages to disturb and freak you out more than his own master can do. After witnessing the crazed canines in this year's Green Room, I think it may be safe to say that assorted writers in Hollywood have been doing a damn fine job of reminding audiences that man's best friend can be more difficult to deal with than you would think.

Don't Breathe is an often quiet, firm, yet exhilarating piece of suspenseful horror that both respectful devotees and casual fans of the genre will greatly be able to appreciate, while never feeling like it has to be desperate and scare the audience with cheap thrills and predictable cliches found in releases that are of lesser quality and take very few chances. No, it is well aware that have paid good money to be thrilled and frightened, and that after barking for so long that you "deserve a better class of fear," it is going to do the very best to stand and deliver on that request. As I have stated multiple times before, if you are willing to let yourself be sucked into a movie's world, absorbing every necessary detail and looking at these human beings as something more than just characters stuck in a scary movie, I am more than convinced that you can have just as fantastic of a time as I did. After all, when a sizable gathering of moviegoers* are eliciting several audible moans, gasps, and flat-out "NO!"s during a majority of the right moments when you are supposed to, you know that you have done your job as a filmmaker particularly well.

Now, perhaps if it isn't too much to ask for, can we hire someone to write a new character for Stephen Lang to play in the Marvel Cinematic Universe? Perhaps a "Reverse-Daredevil," ala the antagonist for the CW's adaptation of The Flash? Yes, I know that the actor is not legally blind, but one can dream, can't I?

......Wait, there are TWO OTHER individuals in the Marvel Comics world for him to potentially tackle? Well, I suppose that can suffice...for now....

Note: I only say "sizable" because, and I hate to say it, some moviegoers will venture into every picture in this field with the worst of intentions; sporting a defiant, arrogant attitude that says they lack a willingness to be scared. Don't be that person. Let your guard down. Be afraid. Be very afraid. :)

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 22

Searching for a potential roommate, college standout and all-around nerd Alistair McDowell believes that he finally has the offer and situation that he has been looking for. For a mere forty dollars a month, he finds refuge with several young men, but is quite surprised when he discovers that his new companions partake in smoking cannabis on a fairly frequent basis. Though he won't join in on the activity himself, he is present to their curiosity being piqued by a placed ad that advertises the sale of a rather large bong, which the previous owner claims is possessed. Far from deterred, Alistair's bedfellows receive the accessory in the mail, but after watching them take several hits, the geeky student begins to notice several things about this new purchase. For starters, it steals the souls of all who inhale from it. Even stranger, its base seems to change with every new victim being claimed.



I'm not going to lie here folks. When it comes to assembling this yearly marathon, I always run into the occasional roadblock. In this case, when I had to choose a different movie for every year that represented a full 365 days of being alive, 2006 was pure hell for me. Yes, I'm aware that we had awesome flicks like Behind The Mask: The Rise Of Leslie Vernon, Slither, The Host, and Fido. And yet, for every four films that turned out to be pretty rad, we had a swarm of releases that ranged from relatively average (Silent Hill, Final Destination 3) to wholly abysmal (The Omen, The Wicker Man). So what in the hell made me choose Full Moon Features' newest attempt at creating yet another franchise for the easily amused, the bluntly (ugh) titled Evil Bong?


Because I had already seen the titles listed above you clouds of fuck dust, that's why. You're all so silly.



Let us move on to the goods itself, yes? For starters, Evil Bong's acting is....well....acting I suppose. I would imagine that most of the cast knows that by putting flicks like this on their resumes, it most likely relegates them to the land of schlock cinema, but if I had the opportunity to partake in any Full Moon production myself, I'd probably take it in a heartbeat. David Weidoff (ABC Family's Roommates) makes for a pretty good straight-laced protagonist, although his uncanny resemblance to internet celebrity James Rolfe, a.k.a. The Angry Video Game Nerd, makes the experience that much more bizarre. The only real familiar faces that show up in Evil Bong are Tommy Chong (Up In Smoke, That '70s Show) and horror icon Bill Mosley (The Devil's Rejects, Carnivale), though the latter's role feels more akin to a cameo that one does during a day off from shooting something of a larger scale. What doesn't feel like a glorified brief appearance, however, is a merry gang of creations of Charles Band and his friends showing up in the bong's paradise, where beings like The Gingerdead Man (from the series of the same name), Jack Deth (Trancers), and Jack Attack (Demonic Toys) seem to be basking in the warmth of the greatest strip club on earth. I can't quite grasp the fact that there's a shared universe from the same company that released the Puppet Master franchise, and that it actually predates the widely popular Marvel Cinematic Universe. If you're still with me after those two sentences, thank you.


In terms of what helps Evil Bong keep its glorified B-movie tag (other than the blatant title), that comes down to a handful of tired and true wonders. There is an ample amount of nudity, though some of it does get repetitive when you see our stoner heroes enter the same dreamlike area repeatedly. A lot of the pot humor does tend to range in terms of writing, but I was shocked (and a wee bit disappointed) by how many chuckles I did manage to elicit during the eighty minute running time. Sadly, the film does begin to lull a bit towards the middle, and as fun as the part of one character's sleazy, dickhead grandfather is, it felt like a somewhat cheap attempt at ensuring that the viewers (who will no doubt be high themselves) don't tune in and out. Regardless, it sure beats a lot of other stoner-comedies that were being exhaled by studios from around that time period, and I'd rather sit through Evil Bong again than a dud like Strange Wilderness. In terms of stoner-horror-comedies though, the only ones I can think of that counts as competition is the previously-reviewed Idle Hands, though comparing a theatrical release with a budget of twenty five million dollars to a Full Moon Features production is like comparing a Duclaw Porter to a case of Miller High Life.


If you're expecting genuine scares and something that will change the game, then you're clearly forgetting that you're watching a movie called Evil Bong. It's a gigantic pile of idiocy that does a swell job at disguising itself as a motion picture, but god bless the thing for clearly not giving a damn about this fact. For some of the flack that I have given Full Moon head Charles Band, he does share a lot in common with another B-movie giant in the realm of horror. That person would be Mr. Lloyd Kaufman, co-founder of Troma Entertainment and purveyor of all things camp. Both men are fully aware that the quality of pictures that they put out are never going to be up for any major award, but they honestly love their dedicated fanbase and give them exactly what they demand on a daily basis. In the case of Evil Bong, it's pure cheese and it revels in it. If you believe that you can enjoy the smell of this particular brand of smoke, Evil Bong is available to rent on Time Warner Cable's On-Demand service for $2.99 (though be wary of bad connections with your cable box), and can be purchased through Full Moon's own website for $6.66.



No, I'm serious! Look!



To quote Canadian professional wrestler Lance Storm, tomorrow we're going to get serious for a minute. Besides, transitioning from a movie about a cursed smoking device into a movie about transmissions that drive people made is pretty logical, right?

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 11

Yes yes, I'm a day late on posting these. When one is attempting to celebrate the beginning of their 29th birthday, you tend to forget certain obligations. But I'm going to double up today, and my review for Day 12's picture shall be up within a few hours.

Raph and Max are your typical guns-for-hire, doing dirty jobs for the right amount of money, and only under the right circumstances. Outside of their rather busy work schedule, Raph is attempting to fix a marriage on the brink of divorce, and the fact that he almost forgets his own son's birthday isn't helping matters. While out and about, the two begin searching for a last minute gift, but soon receive orders to pull off a routine hit. The operation proves to be anything but basic, however, and the men find themselves holed up in a secluded area, grouped together with complete strangers and fighting for their lives against infected human beings.


So, this is a thing that exists. I had always assumed that whenever casting companies decided to let professional wrestlers take the lead, they'd attempt to pick out the biggest and/or most recognizable name that they could find. Last year, that thought was shattered following the release (plus my own review) of the fairly mediocre The Call, co-starring the modern king of "Why are you still employed?," Mr. David Otunga. During a random trip to the last Blockbuster Video that I'll likely ever see, I stumbled across Overtime, with legendary low-card standout Al Snow in the lead, and figured that for the cost of one whole American dollar, I'd give it a whirl.


From the get go, you can tell that Overtime has nothing but good intentions, wanting to be a mixture of Jingle All The Way and From Dusk Til Dawn (no, you didn't read that wrong). The only problem is that this film just seems to be trying a little too hard to be "cool" or "fun." Some of the more memorable horror-comedies in recent years didn't have to try hard per se, but the overabundance of cursing and exposition in Overtime shines brighter than a spotlight on the back of "Stone Cold" Steve Austin's head. Snow and his partner John Wells at least look like they were having a ball during filming though, as does the flick's villain, who is channeling her inner Jeremy Irons from the infamously terrible Dungeons and Dragons movie released in the year 2000.

There isn't anything necessarily terrible in Overtime, and heck, there are times when it's genuinely funny (inexplicably, any joke revolving around what kind of cake to get for a birthday party made me chuckle), but it reminded me too much of one of those movies that you would have seen collecting dust on the shelf of a video store, or worse yet, sitting in a pile of unsold copies near the checkout lane. I'm honest-to-god shocked that this took NINE WHOLE MONTHS to shoot, especially when you consider how cheap the movie can look during particular moments and with how not-so-subtle some of the pop culture jokes can be. For example, Snow searches for the hottest video game system, the YBox 720, to buy for his son. Don't even bother to groan, I did it for you in spades. Admittedly, I would have never even batted an eye towards this surprisingly short project (it says eighty one minutes on the back, but it's realistically seventy) had the six time WWF hardcore champion not been attached to it. But hey, you could do much, much worse than sit through this. For instance, you could watch Al Snow wrestle in 1999's now-infamous "Kennel From Hell" match.



Yeah, too easy of a shot. I think I'll let Mick Foley stick to the jokes in this case.

Hoping that it will reduce their prison sentences by an entire month, several troublemakers and hoodlums are given a temporary leave of absence in order to help clean up a vacated and dilapidated hotel. Unbeknownst to the assorted group of folks is that while they work, they are secretly being watched and stalked by a silent, disturbed psychopath. When the reclusive murderer, known only as Jacob Goodnight, starts to slaughter them one by one, the remaining youngsters must gather and find a way to stop this maniac, or to at least escape the premises with their lives.


If that description for 2006's See No Evil is a little too by-the-numbers for any of you readers, then I can only assure you that it was the best that I could come up with. Writer Dan Madigan (of WWF/E SmackDown fame) and former pornography director Gregory Dark aren't trying to break new ground with this fairly formulaic motion picture, but man, could they have at least tried to do something out of the ordinary? Speaking of Dark, I am a little amazed, if not slightly bothered, to see a good amount of former adult film directors show up in the former half of this year's countdown. It's pure coincidence. I hope.


There really isn't much that I can disclose about See No Evil, solely because you've seen everything it has to offer already. Let me count the ways: generic hot girls, go-to shower scene, generic douchebags, fairly decent gore and kills, predictable twist towards the end, slight attempt at humanizing the killer, and a washed-out look throughout. Perhaps the only thing that I can disclose is something that I feel is only a problem long-time wrestling fans such as myself will have: Kane (real name Glenn Jacobs), who plays the often stone-faced, eyeball-obsessed Jacob Goodnight, just isn't scary whatsoever. I imagine that should you have no connection or interest in the world of sports entertainment, you may find him to be slightly disturbing, but it's hard for the small part of the audience that IS crossing over from the WWE universe to even care. We've seen this man get stuck in some absolutely horrendous feuds since the character's debut in 1997, so it's pretty damn hard to suspend our disbelief. Yes, he's tall and can grimace awfully well when he needs to, but I can't take him seriously when I've seen skits like THIS over the past few years.


See No Evil made me slightly depressed. Mind you, it isn't because it's an emotionally powerful film, or because you sympathize with any personality in the cast, but because of discovering that it was surprisingly successful at the box office and on home video. True, WWE Studios didn't make an obscene amount of money from its performance, but the movie still over-performed when you consider how many horror and wrestling fans expected it to bomb rather hard. The fact that superior, more well-developed projects such as Behind The Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon or Trick 'R Treat have to revel in obscurity, struggling to get a sequel off of the ground or even to make back its full budget, is just a crying shame. Meanwhile, this basic slasher picture, while not entirely deserving of the 8% rating that it currently holds on RottenTomatoes.com, is getting a sequel with bigger stars (Danielle Harris, Katharine Isabelle) and promising directors (Jen and Sylvia Soska) attached to it. It just doesn't seem particularly fair to me.



Wait, Trick 'R Treat IS getting a sequel? Oh. Well, at the end of the day, this movie is still pretty disposable.



Coming up very soon, we're heading way, way back to the 1960s and into the land of Mario Bava with Black Sunday!

Evil Dead (2013) Review

Five friends travel to an abandoned cabin in the woods, in order to help one of them go cold turkey. Soon, they discover a strange, and seemingly evil book, the Necronomicon, and proceed to read an incantation from its pages. Almost immediately, demonic presences are awakened, and soon the inhabitants find themselves fighting for their lives (and fighting each other) in hopes that they may escape in one piece.

When the news broke that we were set to receive a reboot/remake of Sam Raimi's classic 1981 horror film Evil Dead, I cringed. While I don't wholly hate the idea of remaking films, I detest unnecessary ones. Then, when news broke that Diablo Cody, whose previous writing credits included Juno and Jennifer's Body, was set to write the script, I was convinced all hope was lost. However, there was still the light at the end of the tunnel. Sam Raimi and original star Bruce Campbell, were signed on as producers, and essentially, were told to oversee the entire project, to ensure that nothing would go awry.

I'll just come right out and say it: Evil Dead is the best horror remake I've seen since 2004's Dawn of the Dead. Hell, I think it actually surpasses that film. While it doesn't add anything to the original trilogy, you could argue that it will help more than harm its legacy. It is an overall fantastic, and above all, entertaining experience. Time is of the essence as of this review's typing, so I'll just move on to what I enjoyed about this picture.

The cast is all rather strong, with lead actress Jane Levy, playing the junkie Mia, easily stealing the show (and potentially this bearded reviewer's heart). She's able to go through nearly every emotion possible without any of them seeming weak, and pulls off being possessed better than any recent actress I've seen. I'm not sure I'd ever seen Shiloh Fernandez in anything prior to his role as David, Mia's brother, but his feelings for his sister's well being seem genuine, and he's the furthest thing from an Ash clone, whose traits seemed to be mixed in with most of the cast rather than one individual. Same with Eric, played by Lou Taylor Pucci, who must be the most durable human being on the planet. All the tossing around and pain endured by the original trilogy's performers seems to be nothing compared to what this poor bastard goes through. Come to think of it, everyone here gets a thorough beating, and they (or rather, their stuntmen/women) must be commended for it.

If you're a gorehound, there is a lot to gush over in 2013's Evil Dead, pun possibly intentional. There's a plethora of scenes that will make even the most hardened of individuals cringe, including scenes of dismemberment, tongue defilement, and many more. True, the remake's tree rape sequence doesn't seem as horrific as it did in the original, but tree rape is tree rape after all. Major props must be given to the effects crew, who decided to go with traditional effects work rather than rely on the easier, and more often despised choice, of CGI. True, there are some CGI shots peppered in here and there, but they're barely noticeable, and don't detract from the fun.

Now here's where everyone expects me to find some faults, as I can do with nearly every film (even my favorites). But, with maybe the exception of a finale that did feel obviously written by Diablo Cody, and a somewhat slow beginning act, I can't think of anything to truly dislike about this film. Hell, there's even homages to the original trilogy that don't seem forced, and it gets the vibe of the first film down fairly well.

To those who are still nervous or are forever naysayers, I say give this a chance. It won't surpass the original film by any means, but it is far from a bad movie, and one example about how to do a remake properly. I wouldn't be opposed to owning this in my DVD/Blu-Ray collection someday, and I won't hesitate to recommend this to any horror fan.