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The first chapter in the tragicomic saga of Chucky the killer doll is actually scary, not funny (unlike its many sequels). Before Chucky screamed with equal amounts anger, exhaustion and wink-wink self-awareness in Bride of Chucky right before he was about to be killed for the umpteenth time, “I’ll be back – I always come back!”, he was a truly freaky movie monster whose small size and (relatively) benign appearance made him all the more frightening — and dangerous. Chucky can go places a normal-sized human can’t, and he has the advantage of being able to get away with almost anything — after all, who would believe a doll has come to life and is throwing hammers at the babysitter’s head? Like Poltergeist before it, Child’s Play is very much a horror film about a child’s deepest fears, told from a child’s point of view — Andy Barclay, the young protagonist, is very much alone in this world, terrorized and pursued by his “best friend” and surrounded by disbelieving grown-ups. “Hidey-ho, ha, ha, ha!”
Herk Hervey’s surrealist classic went on to inspire filmmakers such as George Romero and (especially) David Lynch with its stark, nightmarish imagery and is it real/is it a dream/does it really matter? narrative. Shot in three weeks on a budget of about $33,000, Carnival of Souls stars Candace Hilligoss as a musician who becomes haunted by ominous ghouls after her car ends up in a lake after an impromptu drag race gone wrong; her main tormentor is a tall specter known only as The Man (Hervey himself), her spirit guide of sorts as she traverses through an increasingly strange and terrifying dreamscape upon accepting a job as a church organist. The film certainly tries your patience after a while (it really isn’t hard to figure out what’s going on pretty early in the film), but Hervey proves himself a master audience manipulator and something of a cinematic hypnotist as his atmospheric tale unfolds.
This surprisingly not-bad remake of George Romero‘s most underrated film is an argument for “Don’t drink the water” if there ever was one. The town of Ogden Marsh, Iowa is known as “the friendliest place on Earth” — that is, until the water supply becomes tainted by something called the “Trixie virus” (a government-created biological weapon), which turns the kindly townsfolk into irrational, bloodthirsty killers. Timothy Olyphant (aces, as always) is the sheriff trying to keep the peace (or at least stay alive and uninfected), with Radha Mitchell (who’s maybe appeared in one too many of these kinds of movies at this point) as the town doc in way over her head. While it doesn’t have nearly the kind of frantic, desperate and dangerous energy as Romero’s film, this new Crazies manages to be a creepier film, with director Breck Eisner perhaps being more inspired by Romero’s Night of the Living Dead than the original source material. A horror remake that’s actually pretty good — that’s kind of a Crazy thing in and of itself.
A stylish, moody ’70s Euro-thriller, Daughters of Darkness is kind of what you’d get if you turned The Shining into a lesbian vampire movie — and still kept (most of) its smarts. Danielle Ouimet and John Karlen play newlyweds who check into a grand and strangely deserted hotel on the Belgium seafront; the only other guests are Elizabeth Bathory (Delphine Seyrig), the legendary Hungarian countess who bathed in the blood of virgins to keep her youthful looks, and her “secretary,” Illona (Andrea Rau). Bathory soon becomes obsessed with the young bride, setting off a sadistic game of seduction and murder that includes at least one super-awesome vampire death scene and more than a few scenes of delicious gothic erotica that walks that oh so fine line between being pretentiously artsy and shamelessly sleazy. Oh, and the dialogue is killer, too: “It is since long that I have crossed the river Ocean!” exclaims the Countess at one point.
“Nazi zombies — in the snow!” That was probably the pitch (verbatim) that the producers of Dead Snow had for whoever shelled out the cash for this fun (but not quite great) Norwegian splatterfest. The explanation behind the “Nazi zombies” is just as silly as the pitch, but who cares? There are attractive and only mildly obnoxious young people scurrying about in the snow, trying to not get eaten by these undead S.S. troopers who obviously didn’t let a little thing like freezing to death keep them from continuing their reign of terror. There are plenty of imaginative and predictably gory kills, as well as at least one outhouse sex scene (that, predictably, is followed by an imaginative gory kill), but you can’t help but wish the filmmakers of Dead Snow had pushed things even further into the realm of sheer cinematic madness — they may’ve had a true genre classic on their hands if the amp (or snowmobile, or whatever) had gone up to 11.
Director Dario Argento‘s classy slasher flick — which sounds a lot more ominous and impressive under its Italian title, Profondo Rosso — follows a music teacher, Marcus Daly (David Hemmings), as he investigates the murder of a psychic medium, who was killed by someone wielding an axe. Daly’s poking and prodding ends up endangering everyone around him, including his best friend (Gabriele Lavia), his doctor associate (Glauco Mauri) and the reporter with whom he begins an affair (Argento’s off-screen partner, Daria Nicolodi), all while the inimitable Goblin performs their trademark maddening music, which comes into play here as a clue to the killer’s identity. As with many of Argento’s films, the mystery’s eventual payoff/revelation is a bit anti-climactic (and silly), but getting there is quite the ride — and, yeah, the final confrontation (which quite memorably involves an elevator shaft) is pretty sweet‚ and most definitely worthy of the film’s title.
Before he was the director of such big-budget extravaganzas as the Spider-Man movies, Sam Raimi was a kid from Michigan with nothing but a cabin, a camera, a lot of fake blood and a talented best friend by the name of Bruce Campbell. The Evil Dead is a horror film made with the blood, sweat and tears of a group of friends out in the woods; Raimi’s imaginative direction and energetic visual flourishes and Campbell’s spirited performance as a young man taunted by demons made the movie seem much bigger and more expensive than it actually was — and made it an instant cult classic. Raimi and Campbell went on to do Evil Dead II (1987) and Army of Darkness (1993) as well as several Evil Dead video games, with Campbell becoming a B-movie idol as the ever-quotable, sharp-tongued Ash. We’re still waiting for Evil Dead IV, even though Raimi is no longer the filmmaker he once was back in the woods (though he tried valiantly to convince us that he is with Drag Me to Hell), and Campbell seems to be getting crankier with each passing year.
What can be said about William Friedkin’s masterful, influential adaptation of William P. Blatty’s terrifying horror novel that hasn’t been said already? Well, how about that it’s not that great? Gasp! Don’t get us wrong — The Exorcist is indeed a classic and definitely one of the best horror films ever made. But is it us or is it suddenly less scary after poor little Regan becomes possessed? Everything leading up to the possession is the truly scary stuff, but once Friedkin turns everything into a freak show featuring rotating heads and pea soup, well, it gets a little, silly (-ish, at least). Regan silently and emotionlessly wandering into her mom’s party and just peeing on the carpet is a lot more unsettling than a possessed Regan screaming about Father Karras’ mother sucking cocks in hell. Maybe it’s because time hasn’t been kind to the special effects and cinematic trickery; maybe it’s because we’ve scene the possession scenes imitated and parodied so much over the years. Anyway, just a thought — even the classics need to be questioned and challenged every now and then.
One of the first movies to sport the oh so intimidating NC-17 rating, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer features Michael Rooker’s career-best performance as a part-time exterminator of insects and full-time exterminator of humans, a nomadic demon currently shacking up in Chicago with Otis (Tom Towles), a guy he met in prison. We watch Henry go about his business over the course of several days, killing several strangers and eventually taking Otis under his wing, all the while trying to ignore the ever-increasing sexual tension between himself and Otis’ visiting sister, Becky (Tracy Arnold). A harsh, gritty and extremely well-done snapshot of pure evil, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer approaches its subject without judgment, presents these various crimes without remorse and reflects on these human tragedies without sympathy or regret, making it one of the most squirm-inducing films ever made — it’s a challenge to watch Henry, but it’s a challenge you should accept. Shot on 16mm in less than a month on a budget of about $110,000.
An ’80s-style horror film that maybe flaunts its ’80s-ness a bit too much (it was released as a VHS in old clamshell packaging when it went to home video), House of the Devil stars Jocelin Donahue as Samantha, a college student in need of a few bucks for rent. Despite her (doomed) best friend’s (Greta Gerwig) protests, she travels to a mansion in the middle of nowhere, where the strange Mr. Ullman (Tom Noonan, excellent as always) confesses there is no child to babysit, only his mother, who’s tucked away in one of the bedrooms upstairs. From there, Samantha passes the time by exploring the house, playing pool and ordering pizza‚Ķ and then discovers she’s been chosen as a sacrifice of sorts in a Satanic ritual. House of the Devil is a terrific slow-burn horror story, crackling with weirdo energy and nightmarish atmosphere, though after a while you wonder why writer-director Ti West needed to make it an “’80s movie” — the various tricksy flourishes such as in-camera zooms and needless close-ups on Samantha’s giant Walkman give the film a sense of self-consciousness that’s really unnecessary. Still, this is a treat and a half — just don’t eat pizza while watching it.
Considered by many to be one of the sickest movies ever made, Wes Craven‘s The Last House on the Left still packs a punch almost 40 years later as two teenage girls are punished for trying to score the wacky weed by being subjected to unspeakable terror and humiliation in the stinking, filthy woods. The film makes the most of its non-budget, and there’s something rather cathartic about Mom and Dad getting revenge on the psycho killer-rapists, but one can’t help but wonder if this ultimately simplistic and rather pointless tale is really the best that Wes Craven could come up with if he was so bound and determined to leave his mark on the horror genre. Regardless, the film is something of an endurance test, an exercise in almost unbearable tension and discomfort, making it a must-own for hardcore horror fans — and a dare for everyone else.
If you haven’t seen this one yet, believe the hype: it’s pretty much as scary as you’ve heard. It took ten years for another no-budget horror flick to follow in the footsteps of The Blair Witch Project, going way beyond its humble origins and becoming an international sensation — Paranormal Activity is a more than worthy successor to the now-underrated Blair Witch, transporting the terror out of the deep dark woods and straight into the bedroom as a young couple discovers there’s a malicious presence that’s capable of dragging them out of bed and setting their dumb ouija board on fire. A spectacular — and truly terrifying — exercise in cinema verite, neat-o sound design and old-school visual trickery. Watch it, but don’t expect to have a restful night afterwards for at least, oh, a week. Followed by two sequels that ain’t half-bad themselves.
George Romero‘s first Dead movie might very well be the best in the series (which is still going on to this day)‚ and perhaps the best zombie movie of all time, period. The set-up is simple: Zombies walk the earth, and a few survivors take refuge in a house in the woods. Night of the Living Dead‘s zombies lurk about in the shadows of the trees, patiently waiting for the poor fool who thinks he can make a run for it; rarely has a horror film created such an unrelenting sense of claustrophobia — the sight of these creatures swaying around outside the window is more terrifying than any swarming attack en masse. Though there are plenty of those moments, too, and they’re awesome. Shot in Pittsburgh for about a hundred bucks and a tank of gas, Night of the Living Dead remains one of the most inspiring movies to independent horror filmmakers everywhere.
The first cinematic adaptation of Bram Stoker’s iconic horror novel, Dracula (you may have heard of it), was this unauthorized exercise in German expressionism by director F.W. Murnau. Nosferatu remains the scariest movie based on the book to date, chock full of dread and despair and starring the amazing Max Schreck as the rodent-like Graf Orlok. The film is public domain and there are many bootleg versions available, including one that’s set entirely to songs by death metal band Type O Negative (which actually isn’t as bad as it sounds) — whichever version you come across, it’s sure to give you the creeps like no other Dracula adaptation out there. FYI, Shadow of the Vampire (2000) presents a clever and unsettling “what-if?” scenario exploring the making of the film, starring Willem Dafoe as Schreck and John Malkovich as Murnau.
“They’re back from the grave and ready to party!” George Romero‘s Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead were just so darn serious, so Return of the Living Dead introduced an aggressive, goofy sense of humor to the whole zombie thing. While Romero’s films can certainly be seen as satires, they definitely take themselves too seriously to be considered dark “comedies” — this one, however, is definitely out to make the audience laugh as much as scream. Two of the main characters are named Burt and Ernie, and there is a disclaimer at the beginning of the film that says all the events depicted are true — and the kick-ass soundtrack is as much a must-own for any punk fan as the Repo Man soundtrack released a year earlier. Writer-director Dan O’Bannon, who did a similar stoner spin with John Carpenter on an otherwise straight-faced genre with the spaced-out Dark Star, also messes about with until-then unflappable zombie mythology — the creatures of Return are resurrected by a toxic gas, they move fast and bullets don’t hurt them, not even if you shoot ’em in the head. Hey, why not?
Wes Craven‘s hip, flip and, yes, genuinely scary meta-probing (or is it stabbing?) of the horror genre hasn’t really aged well, but at least it kind of acknowledged that it hasn’t with this year’s Scream 4. That’s what the Scream movies are all about — constant and consistent self-awareness to the point where we thought Craven himself was going to be revealed as the killer at the end of Scream 3. What many people forget is that while it’s most definitely “smart” and “clever” and all that, Scream is poking fun at what it is itself, through and through — it is a horror film, and a particularly nasty one, at that. The first film in the series features some of Craven’s best work as a director, milking (or is it bleeding?) Kevin Williamson’s fantastic screenplay for all it’s worth as Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) and friends run afoul of a masked killer who really, really likes scary movies, basing his crimes on scenes from several horror classics. Campbell never got a better role than poor Sidney, and the rest of the ensemble (including Courteney Cox, David Arquette, Drew Barrymore, Jamie Kennedy, Matthew Lillard, Rose McGowan, Skeet Ulrich, Liev Schreiber and even Henry Winkler) delivers top-notch performances as they run and Scream through the scary movie that is their lives.
The director of Oldboy making a vampire movie? It ended up being a better idea than reality, but Thirst is still worth watching if only because‚ well, it’s a vampire movie made by the guy who did Oldboy. Chan-wook Park‘s film (whose Korean title translates more directly as Bat) tells the story of a priest, who happens to be in love with his best friend’s wife, turning into a vampire after a failed medical experiment — a premise that’s not quite as subversive as Oldboy‘s, but fans don’t have to worry about Chan-wook not delivering at least a few completely unexpected and jaw-droppingly sick moments. While it doesn’t quite soar to the highest highs (or sink to the lowest lows) of Oldboy (how could it, though?), Thirst deserves nothing short of praise for at least trying something different (and, sometimes, very different) in a subgenre that’s not quite known for its originality.
Warner Bros. inexplicably dumped this clever horror anthology straight to video, though why the studio thought it would fail in a theatrical run is beyond us. While it’s not quite as ghoulishly delightful as Creepshow (still the undisputed king of horror anthology films), Trick ‘R Treat is an entertaining celebration of every horror fan’s favorite holiday with three intersecting tales o’ terror, our favorite of which features Brian Cox as a grumpy old man who’s taught a lesson for refusing to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You also get Anna Paquin in a wicked sequence that seems like it’s about a girl preparing to lose her virginity…but you just know that she and her pals are talking about something else entirely (yeah like maybe werewolves, ha ha!). Written and directed by Michael Dougherty, who wrote the screenplays for Bryan Singer‘s X2 and Superman Returns.
“I’m a vampire! I’m a vampire! I’m a vampire! I’m a vampire!” Vampire’s Kiss, a “cult classic” if there ever was one, features what many people consider to be Nicolas Cage‘s most “unhinged” performance. We actually don’t see anything “unhinged” about it — watch closely (how can you not?) and you’ll see that Cage is in completely control of every little manic bit of business he’s doing, whether it’s spouting off his ABC’s in a rage, chasing his poor secretary (Maria Conchita Alonso) into the ladies’ room or, yes, eating a live cockroach — it’s actually one of the actor’s most nuanced and rather brilliant portrayals. Cage plays a New York City literary agent who’s transformed into a sniveling Renfield after one of his one-night-stands is revealed to be a vampire (Jennifer Beals) — or is she? It’s never quite clear what’s fantasy and what’s reality in this one-of-a-kind portrait of ’80s yuppie madness that actually ends up being heartbreakingly tragic.
Definitely the most adorable of the classic Universal monster movies, The Wolf Man is a cheap-looking fairy tale completely devoid of scares or tension — but it sure is fun to watch poor Lon Chaney, Jr. stumble about the foggy Universal backlot, growling and howling as he terrorizes the townsfolk, cursed and doomed and furry. This is really silly stuff, even for 1941 — there’s none of the theatrical elegance that James Whale brought to Frankenstein or the subversive wit that Tod Browning brought to Dracula; The Wolf Man is clumsy and slow, with director George Waggner seemingly directing from his trailer, leaving Chaney to flail about as he struggles to keep his dignity, probably trying to convince himself that this is an important, tragic character of Shakespearean proportions that he’s portraying. Ha, it’s so much fun to be mean to this movie! Somehow, this lumbering mess is a total blast — and certainly preferable over the disaster that was the 2010 remake.