Unseen Terror 2018: Days 17 and 18

Alright, you know the deal. Strange hours at work, needing sleep, etc. Let's get on with it.

Oddly enough, the seventeenth day of this year's Unseen Terror did not kick off with my original choice for the marathon, and that was solely due to a last minute discovery. After a lengthy shift at my job, I had time to visit one of my local theaters and got a chance to rewatch a film that I had surprisingly not seen in quite a long time: the original Halloween from 1978. As I've stated before in the past, I'm not sure what else can be said about movies that are universally beloved by fans of this genre, and director John Carpenter's breakthrough hit is no exception. It's the closest thing to "perfect" that the slasher genre can ever hope to be, and even then it's far more tactical and well made than nearly every other picture it has inspired. Not much else to add to this one, so let's move on to something peculiar from Japan, shall we?

My familiarity with writer/director Sion Sono is not too great. I'm more than aware of his infamous film Suicide Club, but have yet to sit through the flick in its entirety. His only piece of work that I've managed to complete was 2015's extraordinarily hyper-violent and confusing Tag, which features arguably the best opening ten minutes that I've seen in any Japanese film, and also the most befuddling final act that I've seen in a very long time. Thankfully, Exte is a lot more normal compared to that flick, though considering that it precedes Tag by a good eight years, that's not entirely surprising. The plot revolves around an aspiring hairdresser named Yuko (portrayed by Chiaki Kuriyama of Battle Royale and Kill Bill fame) who begins to buy hair extensions off of a strange man who visits salons. Unbeknownst to her, these come from the body of a dead girl that he has stolen, who despite having passed away, continues to grow beautiful hair. In addition to this, everyone in possession of these locks can be driven to madness, or even murdered when acquiring them.


I went in to Exte (released over here as Exte: Hair Extensions) fully expecting some sort of odd body horror-inspired tale that would sport some rather frightening visuals. Indeed, I did get those in spades, but the most strongest aspects of Sono's script and style comes from the drama between Kuriyama's character and her older, capricious sister Kiyomi, who treats her eight-year-old daughter Mami like absolute dirt. It gets to a point where the child is essentially dumped at the flat of Yuko and her roommate, who can notice signs of emotional and physical abuse in Mami. You genuinely care for these protagonists and heroines, and fear for their own safety, be it from the world of the living or the dead when things begin to get bleak. That isn't to say that Exte is completely devoid of personality though, because it also gets to be weirdly comedic (bordering on parodic) at times. I do recall there being a select amount of moments throughout Tag that seemed to come out of nowhere and didn't fit the tone of that flick at all. Here, it's scenes involving the villain (note: I can now regrettably add "trichophiliac" to my list of words that I never wanted to know) breaking out into song while in his morgue and singing to a woman's corpse.


Though he doesn't exclusively provide content for this subgenre, Sono, for better or for worse, is trying his damnedest to do something different in the realm of J-Horror, which as far as I could tell hasn't been setting the world on fire as much as it did over a decade ago. Infusing absurd humor and a good family-driven storyline keeps movies like Exte fresh, and I'm recommending that those of you searching for something out of the ordinary go track this one down. However, if you're going to watch it, I highly encourage that you seek out the legitimate DVD released by Tokyo Shock, as the copy that I watched on a streaming service didn't exactly look like the most pristine of transfers.




Well, seeing as how I've now checked off yet another staple from my list qualifications, what do you say? Should we get yet another one done?

No, this isn't some made-for-TV reboot of Teen Wolf......wait, that actually happened? And it was on for HOW long?! Well shit.

Anyway, I've become accustomed to binging a few episodes here and there every year from the 1995 television series Goosebumps, and though the results have been rather mixed, they still make for a quick watch and are a bit of a breather for me in terms of not having to think too hard when crafting reviews. Before I ruined my own joke, I was going to point out that the screencap seen above is from "My Hairiest Adventure," which is the eleventh episode of the show's first season. I have zero memory of the book that this was based on, and truth be told, I'm not even sure that I got around to reading it. It took me approximately two minutes to realize that this was probably not a bad thing though, and it was also immediately noticeable that this was going to be the most "90s" of the batch that I would watch for day eighteen, as the only thing it's missing are a few "whoas" and a skater kid. The plot concerns a boy named Larry and his group of friends who discover an old bottle of tanning cream that seems to have rather strange side effects (i.e. hair growing in odd places) after they apply some to their bodies.


*sigh* Okay, before you ask: no, they do NOT make any puberty jokes in this entire episode. This was a show aimed primarily at preteens after all. Speaking of the kids though, I'm not terribly surprised that none of them went on to do much of anything after this. The character of Larry is just plain irritating, and the decision to have him narrate most of the story himself like a juvenile Ferris Bueller makes us wish for the end credits to appear as fast as humanly possible. This, combined with a painfully slow buildup and slightly predictable twist, makes what could've been a fun take on growing up into a fairly bland tale that was one laugh track short of being a cancelled Disney channel show. Meh.

Season two's "Attack of the Jack-O'-Lanterns" was up next, and unlike the previously mentioned ditty discussed above, I do vaguely recall this book, and recognized that this was referenced in the newest motion picture that's still out in theaters as of this writing. This time, the story is focused on Drew and Walker, who are sick of local rivals trying to constantly scare them. When Drew's friends from out of town visit, they offer to help them get a bit of revenge on Halloween night. Everything goes awry when two large beings with Jack-O'-Lanterns for heads come into the picture though.


The most interesting aspect of this episode is the presence of future voiceover favorite Erica Luttrell, who would go on to garner much attention for her performances in cartoons like Steven Universe and assorted DC Comics-related media. It also sports a fairly creepy (at least if you're a kid and utterly paranoid) nightmare sequence where an old couple locks trick-or-treaters in one of their rooms, and the design of the "Pumpkinheads" themselves look fairly cool, even if they have some Rita Repulsa-levels of cheese in their mannerisms. Couple that with the most ridiculous ending possible, and you have a kooky, silly little installment that could take a few of the younger viewers by surprise. Slightly dated, but not bad at all.

If I was going to wrap up this mini-marathon, I figured that it had to be done in style. And if I was unable to find such a thing in an old show like this, I could at least dig around to find an adaptation of one of my favorite stories from the books. Lo and behold, I came across "The Girl Who Cried Monster," which is the fourth episode of the series overall and considering how much I enjoyed the printed material that this was based on, surprised that I hadn't watched before. It's a fairly basic concept: Lucy Dark is obsessed with all things spooky and strange, and when she decides to stay after closing hours at her small town's library, she witnesses the librarian transform into a hideous creature. Rushing home, she tells her family, who don't believe a word of hers. Hell, she's tried to pull pranks like this on her younger brother, so why would they fall for it?


First thing's first: it's a damn shame that the actress who plays Lucy (Deborah Scorsone) appears to have not done anything else after this episode aired. She packs quite a bit of charm, and I think she could've at least been the next Katharine Isabelle if she continued working. On the opposite end of that spectrum, "monster" actor Eugene Lipinski, who would later appear in the television adaptation of forgotten (for a reason) 90s relic Animorphs, has quite an extensive body of work. He's also a hoot to watch, even if he seems to be going for a poor man's mixture of Donald Plesence (Halloween) and Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator). The makeup effects on his transformed state look like something that you'd see as the first presentation on Face Off, but I'm willing to cut them some slack since it is an older children's show after all. What makes this story stand out is the surprisingly morbid ending, which is equal parts cheeky and dark. It's the most well-balanced of these three tales, and honestly one of the better episodes that I've watched from the series over the course of several years.





Tomorrow....well, look at this weekend's new releases. You can imagine what the review will be for.

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 17

Unless you have been living under a rock for the past twenty-five years, I don't believe that The Simpsons' yearly special known as "Treehouse of Horror" needs any sort of proper introduction. And as I discussed yesterday, I seem to apply new rules and guidelines to Unseen Terror more than I realize. Given how I felt about last year's installment, and with the addition of this being the television show's six-hundredth episode (it falls just right below Japan's Sazae-san for the longest-running animated program in history), I figured that we were in for a real special treat that would be able to reward even those who have tuned out quite a number of years ago.


"Treehouse of Horror XXVII" opens with our titular family shopping for a Christmas tree, only to suddenly be confronted by a number of series antagonists from throughout the years, including the ghost of Homer's enemy Frank Grimes. I've always loved good ol' Grimey, as he served as a nice encapsulation of the constant critiquing the show has received from day one about how there is no way in hell that somebody as idiotic as Homer can accomplish as much as he does, and how posh his life is compared to everyone else's. As fun as it was to see him return, this prologue does ultimately feel like a waste though, even with bringing him back alongside of Kelsey Grammer's Sideshow Bob (who gets maybe ten seconds total to speak). Also, why in the world was Kang the Alien unable to speak English this time around, opting to just screech instead? On the plus side, it is followed by an amusing couch gag which pays tribute to Planet of the Apes.


Our first segment is titled "Dry Hard," and begins as a parody of The Hunger Games film series before descending into one that is closer in tone and visual appeal to last year's righteously great Mad Max: Fury Road. Despite some funny gags that pop up once in a while (whenever a person dies and their name is hoisted up on a big screen with something amusing underneath it), this felt so extremely lazy. It also begs the question of what does this have to do with Halloween or scary movies, but they seem to have given up on those associations and ties years ago. Luckily, "BFF R.I.P." is an amusing second story that feels very reminiscent of some of the yearly episode's earlier years, as it deals with Lisa seemingly having horrible luck with keeping anyone alive who claims to be her "best friend." It also gives us some solid Homer lines such as "Jeez, who would've thought a funeral for two kids would be so depressing?" Had this closed out the entire thing, I would have been able to cut the whole experience some slack, but they unfortunately follow it up with a James Bond & Kingsman parody titled "MoeFinger," which, to be as polite as I can be here, SUCKS. Given the seasonal tradition that these are supposed to have some sort of relation to horror or even science fiction, what sense did it make shoving this in here? Absolutely nothing works, failing to elicit even a quarter of a chuckle. Worse yet, as someone who can't stand musical acts such as Steely Dan (but can appreciate a fun Simpsons cameo), the fact that they wasted time and money on dragging the band's co-founder Don Fagen out for a five second appearance is just baffling. The episode closes out with a Tina Turner-lite song celebrating the show's longevity, which is charming until they take not-so-subtle shots at cancelled shows such as The Critic and Futurama. Say what you will about the former outstaying its welcome too, but at least it had the common decency to know when its end had finally arrived.


For such a monumental milestone, the newest entry in The Simpsons' "Treehouse of Horror" series, which is usually a standout even among weaker seasons, is extremely disappointing. Though I know that I am just one lowly soul who spends too much of his time on the internet and watching films of varying quality, it's my opinion that it is time to allow Fox's cash cow to bow out and end with some dignity left intact. At this point, the show has been reaching levels of awfulness longer and far more often than it has the opposite, and that is depressing for older folks such as myself. Though I'm sure that your local cable provider has the option for audiences to watch this as soon as they want to (as will websites such as Simpsons World), it's probably better to just ignore this one and move on with your daily lives.

I consider the seventeenth year of my existence on this planet to be the absolute pinnacle of my geekdom. It was one of my last years of being a devout fan of professional wrestling, as I would take a break from regular viewing by 2004, only sporadically tuning in whenever there was a Royal Rumble or (sadly) a wrestler passing away. Of course, this would change again for the better in 2010, but I digress. Coincidentally, I also believe that it was the last truly great year for my beloved aforementioned series The Simpsons. But, most importantly, it was when this unapologetic nerd was fully immersed in the realm of Japanese animation. I was adamant that viewing any and every piece of work out there was vital to my well being, and it got fanatical enough to where I even attended my first convention (Baltimore's Otakon) dedicated to it in 2002. Much like I do these days with graphic novels, I tended to follow certain creators rather than entire studios or companies. One such writer that always attracted my attention was Mr. Yoshiaki Kawajiri, whose creations such as Ninja Scroll and Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust assisted in exposing me to darker, more mature material outside of say, Dragon Ball or Sailor Moon (yeah, I watched the latter. FIGHT ME). He also co-founded animation studio Madhouse, who helped many folks besides myself look beyond the realms of normalcy by distributing classics such as Trigun, and modern day hits such as High School of the Dead, Claymore, and Death Note. Most of their works are ones that I strongly recommend even to those who are apathetic about this niche genre, as they are chock full of wonderful creativity, unique action, memorable casts, and a ton of heart.

So, how does 1995's Bio Hunter, a story about two biologists who tackle virus-infected humans with demonically-enhanced powers, all while trying to combat some darker urges themselves, compare to all of those I had previously mentioned? Well, for starters, it opens with a lady's left breast spouting a nasty mouth, which proceeds to bite off and swallow a man's hand. Folks, you can't say that the Japanese aren't creative with their gore (go watch Tokyo Gore Police or The Machine Girl if you disagree). Sadly, the OVA begins to slowly slide downhill from then on, with nearly all of its problems firmly keeping it stuck in the mud for an all too brief sixty minute running time. None of the characters are especially interesting, and are given nowhere near the amount of time to grow attached to them. When we discover that one of our protagonists is infected with the same "demon virus" early on that permeates throughout the blood of others (calling this ailment by such a nickname is akin to calling your gym "Super Workout Place"), we raise an eyebrow or so, but he's still a fairly replaceable hero. Hell, the primary villain introduced during the second half feels like your average douchebag politician character in every form of media out there. Even though the pedigree of its voice cast does look extremely impressive on paper, Bio Hunter also suffers from being the recipient of some rather lifeless dubbing. In its defense, however, this was recorded and mixed during that awkward time period when a majority of actors didn't know whether to take anime seriously or not, as they were most likely certain that this would end up as a 90s-centric fad that would burn out just as quickly as it started. But hey, we do get the underrated line of "There's so much that science can't explain." Perhaps someone at U.S. production company Urban Vision is a creationist?


Bio Hunter isn't necessarily bad, but it feels almost instantly forgettable. Had there been a stronger focus on fleshing out a more complex, deeper story and less on making it cool or "edgy," then I think this could have been classified as a special, hidden gem. With a larger budget and more time, the OVA could have made for a fun television series, and it certainly wouldn't be too late to start considering how wide and varied the world of manga and anime are. As it stands, it feels like a dollar store version of Kawajiri's prior work Wicked City, which dealt with similar concepts and featured many of the same staples he throws into every piece he completes (tentacles, odd couple partnerships, body horror). The DVD and VHS are (unsurprisingly) out of print and will cost you a pretty penny if you wish to add them to your collection, though it is readily available to watch on nearly any website such as YouTube.



In fact, I think I'll take the risk and just post it below. Besides, you can always just watch for the first ninety seconds and stop, just to see the boob mouth.

Oh, and before I wrap this one up, would anyone be interested in me doing a mini-marathon one day devoted to exclusively "anime" horror? Please let me know. Because I totally think that I'll do it.




Tomorrow, it's time to cross off another requirement from my unofficial list of rules, as I tackle a particular remake from the past few years that I somehow forgot existed. Will is leave me feeling cold? If that's the case, man is always the warmest place to hide...

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 10

Unconfident and overly stressed, Keiko, the daughter of a world famous chef, runs from her father after feeling that she can not deal with his strict training regime on how to better her preparation of dishes. Soon thereafter, she finds herself working in a rural hotel doing menial work, constantly bullied and maligned by her superiors and the frequenting guests. When the president of a pharmaceutical company and his entourage stop in for dinner, a former researcher for the man also decides to pay a visit, vowing revenge for his ousting years prior. This retribution comes in the form of a serum designed to bring dead material back to life.


Do you remember what I said about select motion pictures being immune to criticism and legitimate reviews? Well, this statement can be applied to nearly every work spearheaded by eccentric Japanese oddball (and former adult movie director) Noboru Iguchi. Outside of the porn industry, his filmography primarily consists of works that are clearly not meant to be taken seriously, and mean to just entertain its audiences through sheer insanity. In that sense, works such as The Machine Girl and his horror-comedy Dead Sushi are closer to foreign versions of Troma Entertainment movies. And that's exactly what the latter does in wonderfully wacky fashion.


And in terms of what does this certain Japanese picture help stand out and earn the definition of being called "wacky?" For starters, before the carnage kicks in (and even during it), we're treated to several legitimate fight sequences between our head chef and several antagonists that aren't cooked with rice or fish. These scenes are remarkably well-choreographed when you consider that this is supposed to be a cheap, dumb little splatter picture. Though they may hail from different countries, it wouldn't surprise me whatsoever if Iguchi-san is secretly a fan of Stephen Chow or Jackie Chan, since every battle feels as authentically funny as it does look cool. Oh, I did say cheap above, did I not? Well, unlike a lot of other pieces in this field, Dead Sushi's lackluster CGI and often cheap-looking stop motion animation often make up part of its charm.


In between this crazed food frenzy (I know, I know), there is almost a heart beating underneath. Female chef Keiko's plight and frustrations with never being able to live up to expectations from her family are completely identifiable, if not a tad bit exaggerated when you see the training that she has to go through in order to become a true expert at constructing the cuisine (if this is how it's actually done, then I am very sorry). Before you get too easily led astray, the narrative doesn't forget about your wants and needs, and gives us moments such as a man eating a (literally) spiked tuna roll and another person's skin being torn from both sides of his face by a squid and tempura roll. Director Iguchi seems completely intent on not just filling in the blanks with a few gross or over-the-top pieces, but with one-upping himself after every few minutes or so. It makes for charming stuff, though it does begin to run out of steam towards the climax. It goes into full blown "anime" mode, and while as equally entertaining (if not a bit asinine), it feels like taking several shots of espresso after coming down from a very drunken, painful high.


During one scene involving the intercourse of two pieces of sushi which produces a mass explosion of sushi "babies," one survivor manages to utter the sentence "Things have reached the point where they don't make sense!" If that isn't this movie to a tee, then I don't know what is. It will either convince you to start living a vegan lifestyle, or make you more hungry for seafood than you've ever been in your entire life. After watching an extra on the DVD, wherein a tiny Austin, Texas crowd gathered at the yearly Fantastic Fest for a sushi-eating contest involving often-maligned (and quite frankly disgusting) ingredients, I'm willing to bet it could be an odd mixture of both. Still, it's watchable, and a lot of fun for those with a demented mind and a big group of likeminded friends.



After all, anything with a piece of egg salad sushi that sings and spits acid has to be worth at least a quick glance.

Alcoholic police officer Ciaran O'Shea is unhappy with his newly assigned partner Ms. Lisa Nolan, a workhorse who has transferred to his remote Irish island. After receiving a distress call about numerous whale corpses having washed ashore, and later with the disappearance of numerous townsfolk, the Gardai, alongside an English marine ecologist, discover the culprits of these attacks: giant blood-sucking beasts that have emerged from the sea. Whilst dealing with the monsters and wondering how to protect the island, the team come to a rather peculiar conclusion thanks to the "town drunk" on how to fend off and repel these invaders, and it may involve mass consumption of a familiar substance.


Speaking of taking shots, if Dead Sushi was today's selection for dinner, then Ireland's Grabbers serves as a fairly nice dessert. No, wait, it would be more appropriate to call this a strong pint or three to go along with your meal. I first became aware of this oddball horror-comedy thanks to the now-defunct, brilliant, and sorely missed Spill.com. A mention of this being the foreign equivalent to the 1990 monster flick Tremors caught my attention almost instantly, though I've heard that statement more times than I've ever cared to. True, that also drew me to a movie I like and now own in The Burrowers, but in the end, I feel that I will forever be a natural skeptic.


Even to the blind and/or deaf populace, it's fairly obvious that Grabbers was strongly influenced by Tremors, and unabashedly more so than the American-made The Burrowers ever was. It wears its adoration for the cult movie on both sleeves, and don't be offended if you can pinpoint specific scenes that were structured to be eerily similar to the franchise that introduced us to the underground creatures dubbed "Graboids." Hell, even the nickname given to the beasts is similar! But as I've said before, this isn't a ripoff as much as it is a love letter. Helping out is the recollection that the Irish possess a very underrated (and often unappreciated) sense of humor. Because of this, and I'm going to sound just a wee bit blasphemous, I actually found Grabbers to be slightly funnier than its forefather. *gasp*


Cast-wise, there aren't as many people that you'd have to worry about caring for since most of the film focuses on the duo of Ruth Bradley and Richard Coyle (who could be mistaken for Andy Serkis in another life). The latter doesn't lack any wit or intelligence, even if he is often mistaken as just a typical, sad drunk who lost most of what made him happy in life. His partner, the lovely Ruth Bradley, is fairly plain jane until the time comes for her to partake in drinking (around the latter half of its running time), thus breaking her free from a life of sobriety. After that, many of the movie's best and more memorably hilarious lines come from her slurring, silly childish charm. Don't worry though, because despite the fact that it is clearly stated that beer and whiskey help stave off any harm from these tentacled nightmares (don't get angry, it's in the bloody description box on Netflix), I'm almost certain that this movie does not encourage rampant drinking or alcoholism.


My gosh does it encourage wanting a baby grabber toy though. Well, that's what I came away with. Mind you, I don't care to own the real thing, since they'll try to feast on you and suck your blood. But a plush toy sure would be grand. Oh crap, I got sidetracked for a moment there. Well, erm, where was I? Ah yes. Grabbers certainly isn't going to go down as a classic by any means, but it's the furthest thing from bollocks and I could see some of the more uptight modern horror fans (the ones who claim that there's nothing good out there anymore but aren't looking hard enough) enjoying it too. Jon Wright's alcoholic monster mash makes for a jolly good time considering how much was done well with a paltry budget.



And perhaps I'm biased, but any motion picture that suggests feeding a priest to a monster because "unless it eats shit, it'll choke to death" gets an automatic three stars from me.



Tomorrow, it's time to enter into a two-on-one match with wrestling-themed horror films Overtime and See No Evil!