IHR induction #27: "The Omen" (1976, Richard Donner)

First, just let me say that this movie holds a great deal of sentimental value for yours truly. It was the FIRST movie I ever saw on TNT's MonsterVision, which I've mentioned several times in passing. Suffice to say, if you're like me and you came of age in the early- to mid-'90s, this was the place to be if you were a horror fan. Saturday nights, plenty of caffeine to get you through the night, and the man-myth known as Joe Bob Briggs on the TV hosting classic film after classic film, giving you the inside dirt on the horror movies of yesteryear. If it didn't have such a tragic ending (read: TNT totally screwing MonsterVision and Joe Bob over, turning the show into a generic movie-fest called "Joe Bob's Hollywood Saturday Night"), this would be a utopian fantasy on par with anything Thomas More ever wrote.

ANYWAY...way back in seventh grade, I got wind of the fact that "The Omen" was going to be shown on television, and having just discovered the wonders of the horror movie, I had to see this. I'd heard quite a bit about it; it came with plenty of hype in the form of the fascinating blurbs I read in some book from my junior high's library called "An Album of Modern Horror Films." I suppose with all of that long-winded introduction, you're expecting some sort of epic climax to this story, but once again you're going to be disappointed. 10:00 p.m. rolled around, Joe Bob was funnier than hell, and the movie was pretty damn good. The end.

OK, maybe that's not the end. In the late '60s and early '70s, there was a mini-boom in religion-themed horror films. "Rosemary's Baby," "The Devil's Rain" and "The Exorcist" were all modest-to-huge successes at the box office. "The Exorcist" in particular is viewed by many horror scholars as perhaps THE pinnacle of the genre. Well, the Horror Nerd must be a mutant, because William Peter Blatty's story of green vomit, Crucifix-assisted masturbation and weird spider-walking (Takako Fuji did this SO much better ;)) has always left me feeling a little cold. Nope. When people bring up "horror movies with a Christianity-infused tinge," this is always the one that's right at the forefront of my cerebral cortex. In addition, it's got acting that's FAR more appropriate and emotional than "The Exorcist," along with a pretty chilling hook, an Oscar-winning score, and a couple legendary death scenes.

THE MOVIE!!

The movie opens with a tone of foreshadowing and darkness. A father is informed that his son was stillborn; he is coaxed, even tempted, by a Priest who says that another child was born at the exact moment as his son. This son is healthy; the mother died during childbirth. Not knowing how to tell his wife that their baby is dead, and at the same time desperately wanting a child of his own, he agrees to the switch and takes the newborn infant to his wife, presenting it as their own.

The man is Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck), the United States Ambassador to England. He's a decent family man, honest, with plans on becoming the President of the United States someday. After the de facto adoption scene, we flash forward several years, as the child - named Damien (Harvey Stephens) - is now a young boy, carefree and playful, with the exception of an early scene where the family heads out to a wedding and Damien recoils in horror at the sight of the church. It's the things around him that start taking a strange turn. At a birthday party, his nanny throws herself from the balcony of the Thorn estate and hangs herself. A mysterious dog shows up out of nowhere, acting as a sort of guardian angel to the small child. And, in the place of the "suicidal" nanny comes Ms. Baylock (Billie Whitelaw), a seemingly loving and nurturing would-be caregiver who, in her first moments alone with Damien, tells him that she will protect him to the death.

Before long, Father Brennan (Patrick Troughton) shows up with some very urgent things to say to Robert. It's here where the meaning of the strange acts taking place around young Damien begin to take meaning. Brennan believes that Damien is the Antichrist - the Satanic version of a savior, the Biblical figure destined to overthrow Christianity and plunge the world into unimaginable darkness. The deaths, accidents, and people suddenly seeming out of place in the Thorn household are all part of a grand plan, as the agents of evil have begun converging to ensure that Damien not only grows up, but eventually takes everything that belongs to Robert.

Robert, of course, is very skeptical of Father Brennan. His child has always been well-behaved, even shy. Meanwhile, his wife Latherine (Lee Remick) is having feelings of the exact opposite nature. The peculiarities of Damien have begun to eat away at her sanity; he has never been sick a day in his life, he seems to have a strange effect on the animals at the zoo, and danger seems to be lurking around every corner of the household she resides in. There is a subplot in the film about Katherine seeking help for some sort of depression as a result of Damien's oddness; it's one of the passages in the movie that doesn't quite ring true for me. Considering what eventually happens to the character, I think it would be better served if Katherine had been a sympathetic, supportive mother throughout the film, but it's really a fairly minor complaint.

Eventually, Father Brennan dies, as well, and it's here where the movie's true prophet comes in to the life of Robert Thorn. This comes in the form of a newspaper reporter named Keith Jennings (David Warner), who has found all of the mayhem surrounding the brief life of Damien Thorn odd to the point of warranting investigation. Over the years, he has pieced together the evidence that supports the Antichrist theory, and it is through this character that Robert finally realizes that something is amiss with his son. The two characters embark on a quest of sorts to find answers, heading to the place where Robert first saw his adoptive son, tracking down the bodies of Damien's mother (along with his REAL son, in one of the movie's most chilling scenes), and finding an archaeologist who, in a completely emotionless tone, instructs the grief-stricken father that he must murder his own son to save the world.

"The Omen" is a movie that works marvelously due to its acting. Compared to "The Exorcist," we had an absolute A-list cast with this thing. Peck is one of the greatest actors of all time, an Academy Award winner for "To Kill a Mockingbird" and a master of delving into a character and finding its emotional resonance. His concerned father - not quite believing the monstrous nature of the son that he loves throughout the entire running time of the movie - is a character that carries a great deal of emotional weight and splendidly pulls the viewer into the story. David Warner, who has gone on to be a veteran of horror films, is a classically trained stage actor and the very definition of a character actor. Of course, he also seems to have not aged A DAY in the 34+ years since this movie's release date, which only brings credence to the theory that this movie was touched by the devil in some way.

In addition, its atmosphere is something to behold. Director Richard Donner, who would later helm several blockbusters ("Superman," "The Goonies," "Lethal Weapon" etc.), shoots the movie in very dark shades, casting a decidedly deathly glow on the events that hold the fate of the world. But perhaps the movie's biggest star is its music. Combining staccato, slightly grating orchestra tones and Latin invocations, "The Omen" has a soundtrack that chills you right to the core. It's right up there with Harry Manfredini's violen-obsessed "Friday the 13th" music the four-note "Nightmare on Elm Street" theme when it comes to all-time great horror movie music.

This is a very dreary and sometimes depressing film. A lot of '70s horror was this way; while the decor and clothes of the time were loud and fun, the horror films were dark to the point of pitch blackness, and rare was the occasion when good won the day. "The Omen" is no exception, but there is something about this story that would have felt WRONG if we weren't given a tragic ending. Of course, this ending was expanded on in two sequels.

Ordinarily, this would be the part where I bitch to you about how awful the rest of the series is, but I'd be lying in this case. In fact, the first three films which make up the "Omen trilogy" (there's a fourth film, an ABOMINATION that doesn't even exist in my eyes) are a phenomenally well-planned, satisfying work that tells as logical a story about good vs. evil and the final battle between heaven and hell right here on Earth as good as it could have possibly been told. It also doesn't hurt matters that Sam "I could out-act George Clooney with one arm tied behind my back" Neill plays the all-grown-up Damien Thorn in the third film, "The Final Conflict." Standing separated from the sequels, however, "The Omen" is a movie that stands the test of time, something that (in my humble opinion) "The Exorcist" fails at doing. For the most part, it's still a hell of a story, with memorable characters, some legendary scenes, and the great creepy stare of Damien Thorn.

IHR induction #26: "Frankenstein" (1931, James Whale)

It's definitely one of my many non-flattering qualities, but here goes: for the most part, black and white horror films bore me to tears. With the exception of some of Alfred Hitchcock's older work, I've always found these films to be a somber, even lifeless experience, with no semblance of relativity to the modern world. Hell, even the very LOOK of B&W serves as an instant insomnia cure, since the plain color(less) scheme has this very dreamlike quality that soothes me and gets me into a trancelike state. Considering that I do the majority of my horror movie watching when I'm dead tired, it's no wonder why I don't partake in a lot of the classic monster movies and 1940s and 50s mystery killer movies. This flick, however, is an exception.

The story of Frankenstein is something that virtually every child hears about; it's like the origin of Superman. Everybody knows the basics - Dr. Frankenstein's obsession with creating a living entity from a nonliving entity, or entities, the wave of death that follows, and the tragic ending when the creature causes the master's destruction. There have been virtually dozens of film adaptations of Mary Shelley's classic novel, varying wildly in quality. The one that follows the novel closest is "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein," released in 1994 and starring Robert DeNiro as the monster. While ol' Travis Bickle does a hell of a job, as usual, and the special effects are definitely more relevant in today's CGI-encrusted world, this movie has always felt flat to me. Maybe it's just that I'm in a bad mood every time I watch it, but I've never seen the unparalleled masterpiece-ness of what many consider to be the holy grail of Frank-O flicks. There's also "The Bride of Frankenstein," released in 1935, which appears on just about every "Best Horror Movies of All Time" list. And that one...also feels a little flat to me. Nope - I'm a purist. At least a film purist, since this movie is about as far away from the novel as you can possibly get while still having the gall to call itself "Frankenstein." Nonetheless, this remains my favorite version of the story ever told.

Since there's sufficient differences between the book and 1931 film versions of "Frankenstein," let's review the nuances of this B&W classic, shall we?

THE MOVIE!!

Dr. Henry Frankenstein, played by an appropriately bookish Colin Clive, is an eccentric scientist obsessed with the curious theory of death begatting life. Along with his assistant Fritz (Dwight Frye), he begins making his theory - which of course gets him much scorn and ridicule in the scientific community - a reality. They rob graves in the middle of the night and piece together as many spare body parts as they can from various resources, with the primary goal of creating an artificial body out of the parts and granting it life through electricity. As the horrific body nears completion, however, Fritz makes a terrible mistake, swiping the brain of a violent criminal for use in their creature.

Meanwhile, we are introduced to the movie's secondary protagonists. First and foremost is Elizabeth (Mae Clarke), his long-suffering fiancee, ever supportive of her mate despite his obsessive tendencies and long hours spent locked away with his work. There is also Dr. Waldman (Edward Van Sloan), Henry's former medical professor, who agrees to make an attempt to pull Dr. Frankenstein away from his work and toward a life of suitable normalcy with Elizabeth. Unfortunately for them, they're too late - they arrive at Henry's clock tower laboratory just as he begins the final stages of his experiment. The body of the creature - a grotesque being with bolts in its neck, abnormally large and with a face that only its creator could truly love - is raised toward the ceiling. Henry's electrical machines whir to life, and the creature begins stirring on the table...

Boris Karloff is the legendary actor who portrays Frank (as I'll call the creature from now on - either that or "the monster"), and not to beat that proverbial redundant hat in the sea of reviews out there, but he does an amazing job. He went on to play Frank three more times after this movie (including the wildly praised and aforementioned "Bride of Frankenstein"), but I still believe this to be his best portrayal, despite some of the more complex - and wordless - emotional scenes contained in "Bride." He's instantly menacing - his appearance alone is more than effective in giving that impression - but Karloff has such an uneasy presence about him that grants such a simple character excellent depth. Almost immediately, Fritz accidentally scare the bejesus out of the poor brute with a torch. Karloff's reactions, while overly theatrical in the style of early-1930s cinema, serve their purposes well, and NEVER make modern audiences laugh. So three gold stars for Boris Karloffoffice (ten points if you get that reference).

The torch incident with Fritz turns out to be the impetus of what comes in the film. Frank interprets the action to be hostile, leading to the death of Fritz as the creature strangles him to death. Henry and Dr. Waldman immediately realize that they have created an abomination, and hatch a plan to inject the monster with a powerful drug and destroy it. Through a series of coincidences, the monster escapes, and immediately sets out to make its creator's life a living hell. Henry Frankenstein, meanwhile, is preparing for his long-awaited wedding day, completely unaware that the thing that he tried for so long to create is now on the loose, and completely untethered by his precious science...

"Frankenstein" is a relatively simple story, but its value isn't in a bunch of plot twists, or ultra-realistic acting. Its value lies in looking at the moral philosophy of Henry Frankenstein, of how quickly he creates a truly inhuman being without a care in the world, and of how quickly he realizes that it must be destroyed. The moral of the story, it seems, is that we, as humans, need to think before we act. Particularly considering what happens in the movie's very best scene - Frank, while wandering the countryside, happens upon an innocent little girl, the first human he has met to not recoil in horror upon seeing him. He even plays a game of rock skipping with her, but in his infinite simplicity, he throws the girl into the lake, accidentally drowning her. Watching this scene, even today, has a very potent affect on the viewer; despite the fact that this movie is damn near 80 years old, our heart bleeds for this creature, whose inability to understand the properties of human life has destroyed the closest thing to a friend it will ever know.

Because of scenes like this peppered throughout this seemingly ancient film, "Frankenstein" rises above the constraints of its time period and becomes, in my humble opinion, a damn fine and essential film for any movie fan. It's a textbook example of a simple story told well. As an added bonus, it contains fantastic performances by Karloff as the monster and Clive as the foolish Dr. Frankenstein, in addition to stylish and snappy direction from James Whale, who would later go on to film 1933's "The Invisible Man." It may not rank particularly high on the vomit meter, but Joe Bob would still implore you to check this one out.

IHR induction #25: "The Howling" (1981, Joe Dante)

Of all the subgenres of horror films that we've been blessed with over the years, the werewolf movie is one of my favorites. One of the first flicks that I have an active memory of watching is "An American Werewolf in London," which was shown ad nauseum on HBO circa 1989. Back then, I thought it was cool when David Kessler turned into a wolf before our very eyes, and refreshingly without the aid of nauseating CGI. At that time, I didn't think it was possible for there to be a werewolf movie greater than this one. 21 years later, I can report that the six-year-old version of the Horror Nerd was wrong.

"The Howling" is an immortal movie, not only because it's an awesome, creepy story involving human beings who may or may not be going all lycanthropical on us, but because it's utterly unique and original within the confines of the werewolf subgenre. Most films of this nature - ESPECIALLY those that came before it (the Lon Chaney "Wolfman" flicks, the Paul Naschy "El Lobo" movies, etc.) and even a few that came after it (Stephen King's "Silver Bullet," which has its fans, but is considered by yours truly to be one of the very least of the 30-odd Stephen King films that have been made) had a tendency to lean on - very heavily - the conventions of the werewolf folktale. Read, there's plenty of lip service paid to all of the eponymous RULES of the wolf. Full moons, silver bullets, iron rods, holy water, you name it, it's all there and it's all spelled out for you.

Not so here. "The Howling" took the werewolf mythos and effectively updated it for the slasher cinema era. Gone were churches and English countrysides. In their place were psychological communes and densely populated cities. In a truly daring move, John Sayles' script - an adaptation of a novel by Gary Brandner - gives the werewolf an even greater relevance in a world that had left the days of kerosene lamps and candlelight. The villains in this film did not need a full moon to transform. Hell, it didn't even have to be in the P.M. hours. The conventions that this film invented were nothing short of ingenious, granting a truly despicable, evil presence to their villain characters (many of whom actually ENJOY their role as killers of the innocent).

In addition to that, it's got a transformation scene that actually tops the infamous one that John Landis gave us in "An American Werewolf in London." Rick Baker, a legendary makeup designer, was the head honcho for the special effects of this movie. Not to beat a dead horse in a world where every average joe out there has a movie review and opinion to share, but he does a fantastic job. Watching this movie is a nice reminder that there was indeed a time when crafting realistic special effects didn't involve a roomful of tech heads with computer programming degrees, and that there used to be this little thing called "ingenuity" involved when the script called for a guy's eyeballs to turn from blue to yellow and to sprout six-inch claws from his hands.

But enough about the that. Even if it had a story that featured wolfmen - and women - very different from what we had seen before, and had a makeup FX maestro working behind the scenes, "The Howling" would be a failure if it didn't have a story that hooked us. And that isn't the case.

The movie begins on a slightly film noir-ish tone, with a touch of true crime thrown in for flavor. Karen White (Dee Wallace, an appreciated veteran of horror films) is a popular TV news anchorwoman being stalked by a brutal serial killer. Her network holds a risky sting operation, holding Karen out as de facto bait for the sicko, which leads to a lurid episode inside a public nudie booth. The police arrive and save Karen from the murderer - a sleazy psycho named Eddie Quist (Robert Picardo) - shooting him in the process. The episode leaves Karen scarred and suffering from amnesia.

In response, her psychiatrist, Dr. George Waggner (Patrick Macnee, a respected British character actor), decides to send her and her husband Bill (Christopher Stone) to "The Colony" - a secluded, hippie commune-style group therapy session that Waggner lords over. It's here where we meet several more interesting characters, but none moreso than Marsha.

Marsha is played by Elisabeth Brooks, and I've got to say that both this character and the portrayal are immortal. It happens every so often in the horror genre; the director hits such a home run with the casting of a villain that it immediately rises above the original intent of the movie itself and becomes something else entirely. It happened with Takako Fuji in the "Ju-On" and "Grudge" films, and it happened with Robert Englund in the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series. Folks, in 1981, the makers of "The Howling" scored a touchdown by casting the unknown Brooks as an almost vampire-like werewolf character. I say this because, traditionally, vampires are seen to be the more erotic of the two eternally warring monster factions. Brooks turns the tables in this movie; she pulls off the Marsha role PERFECTLY. Yes, she is pretty damn sexy, but her effect goes deeper than this. She's feral and animalistic in a way that drives guys, in both the film and the audience, wild.

Moving on...Marsha is in the Colony for several disorders, the least of them being nymphomania. She immediately sets her sights on Bill, who is starting to grow a little restless with his amnesiac - and very sex-phobic - wife. In the opening goings of this tug-of-war, he resists the sexy siren's advances, but this all changes one night when he decides to go for a walk. He is attacked and bitten by a wolf-like creature, then returns to his cabin, finding a waiting - and nude - Marsha waiting by the campfire, where they finally consummate their unholy union.

Feeling depressed and cut off from society, Karen calls her friend Terri to the Colony. Terri is already in the act of connecting Eddie Quist to the resort through a sketch he made, and also suspects that late night trysts with hot werewolves might not be all that Bill is hiding. After snooping too far in to the Colony's secrets, she is attacked - and killed - by Eddie Quist, who is himself the brother of Marsha, and who is ALSO himself a werewolf.

Most werewolf movies feature characters that are free to roam about their surroundings. "The Howling" reversed this dichotomy by focusing on a small group of characters STUCK in one particular setting. This was the era of slasher movies, after all, which were predominantly about a group of attractive teens holding a party or away on a camping trip getting sliced-n-diced by a mask-wearing psycho. While the formula had already been going full blast by 1981, this method felt - and still feels - amazingly fresh with "The Howling." The closing chapters of the movie, involving a fight on several fronts (there's Karen vs. Bill, Terri's boyfriend vs. the Werewolves, and Karen vs. the World, in the form of that final - and unintentionally funny - scene), consists of some very thrilling stuff.

Of course, it comes as no shock when you take into account just who directed this movie. Joe Dante is a guy that I and a few loyal posters on a message board I frequent hold in a pretty high regard; he's the creator of the beloved '80s classic "Gremlins," the mastermind behind the best segment of 1984's "Twilight Zone: The Movie," and even has a man-boner for proverbial character actor extraordinaire Dick Miller (that would be Murray Futterman from "Gremlins," in addition to "hey, he's that guy!" parts in about 50,000 other films). His way of doing things meshed perfectly with a werewolf story - most notably his distinct visual style and flair, with a taste for the weird that never, ever strays into pretentiousness, and his direction of the actors (particularly Brooks), which culls just the right amount of emotion and resonance without lurching into melodrama.

In short, while most people prefer that movie that was shown to me on HBO all those years ago, this is - and probably shall forever be - my favorite silver bullet-fest of all time.

IHR induction #24: "The Funhouse" (1981, Tobe Hooper)

Quick story from the boring life of Jon Lickness, a.k.a. the Horror Nerd - just two hours ago, I had absolutely no friggin' clue what film I was going to induct this week. Every movie that came to mind had either already been covered, brought about a preemptive "meh" response, or your humble host just didn't feel like writing about it. Hell, I even conducted the dreaded Google "best horror movies" search for ideas...nothing. Having nowhere else to turn, the cabinet that houses my DVD collection - namely, the four-foot high staple of my possessions that makes everyone who opens it think I'm a serial killer - got opened. Lo and behold, this movie popped out - a movie that I forgot I even OWNED in the first place.

"The Funhouse" is noteworthy first and foremost because of its director, Tobe Hooper. He's a genre stalwart who appears at damn near every one of the Fangoria "Weekend of Horrors" conventions, where scores of nerds just like you and me descend, sometimes from hundreds of miles away, to rub elbows with the horror masters of yesteryear. His credits include this, "'Salem's Lot," "Poltergeist," "Eaten Alive"...and a little movie from the early '70s called "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre." And don't confuse that movie with the remake that was unleashed on audiences in 2003. This was the GOOD one, the movie where Hooper boldly went where few film-makers had gone before and showed ugly events happening in such a dirty, grainy matter that it seemed for all the world like this was somebody's documentary. But I digress.

This particular film was released well after Hooper had already established his name as one of Hollywood's pre-eminent horrormeisters. It also came in 1981, when horror was as deeply immersed in slasher cinema as it would ever get. I hadn't been born yet, but I've seen a good deal of the horror movies from this era, and this was some time to be a horror fan. When "Halloween" and "Friday the 13th" emerged from nowhere to do blockbuster business, a whole slew of film-makers followed suit, which resulted in ripoff after ripoff of those two primal classics. Seemingly every holiday had a different masked killer and cast of attractive, nubile teens - with one virginal girl to be the final survivor, of course. More than anything, these movies were FUN. A movie titled "The Funhouse" gives the impression that it will be done in the same spirit, and those making that assumption wouldn't be wrong. While some film critics see this film as a repudiation of slasher movies, I believe "The Funhouse" to be a creepy little yarn that's better-acted than the vast majority of like-styled films from the period. And it's got a killer unlike anything you've ever seen in these kinds of movies, but we'll get to that later.

As per usual, this review is spoiler-ific, so don't read further if that sort of thing is a big deal to you. Somehow, I doubt anyone cares.

Well, for starters, "The Funhouse" contains perhaps the best opening scene in cinema history. In a scene that's an homage/send-up of the "Halloween" origin, we see the action through first-person as an assailant dons a mask and grabs a knife. Meanwhile, in the next room, a beautiful young girl, played by Elizabeth Berridge of "Amadeus" fame, gets undressed to take a shower. The scene is complete with loving and long close-ups of Berridge's unbelievable cans. It's a cinematic masterpiece. Eventually, the figure in the mask attacks Berridge - named Amy - and is revealed to be her bratty younger brother, Joey (Shawn Carson), who for reasons untold prefers to scare the crap out of his sister while she's wet, nude, and slathering soap all over her massive funbags in the shower. So ends the best damn movie scene...there ever was.

As it turns out, Amy is showering to get ready for some early-'80s teen socializing. She's headed to the carnival for an evening of fun along with friend Liz (Largo Woodruff, who quite frankly has amazing acting chops for a movie in this style), new boyfriend Buzz (Cooper Huckabee), and Liz's dorky beau Richie (Miles Chapin). While there, Amy goes through the trials and tribulations of a first date with Buzz, while the quartet take part in some carnival activities. They ride rides, see a magic show, and listen to a very eerie carnie repeatedly chanting "Alive! Alive! Alive!" for approximately ten minutes. These opening chapters of "The Funhouse" are often criticized for dragging a bit, but really, I don't see what the problem is. The original "Friday the 13th" takes a good forty minutes until it gets to the evening of doom at camp blood, after all. While the characters in this movie aren't quite as likable as they are in that immortal slasher masterwork, these scenes serve their purpose - they get us on a first-name basis with the main cast and establish tones of menace at the carnival, especially considering that Amy's disapproving father warned her about murders that took place at this very same traveling caravan in a bordering town last year.

As the evening goes on, the kids begin breaking all of the cardinal "rules" of the slasher films that ruled the universe at the time of its 1981 release. They smoke dope, make fun of the carnival's fortune teller (disrespectful kids in these movies = murder fodder), and even sneak into one of the carnival's dark rides after hours for a good old-fashioned slasher movie makeout session (complete with another all-too-fleeting shot of Berridge's tits...did I mention she has a great rack)? While in here, Richie suggests that they spend the night inside the dark ride, and the other characters agree. Man, do these kids ever regret that decision.

While frolicking about inside the creepy ride, they accidentally witness a most disturbing scene. The ride's operator - a man in a Frankenstein costume who never says a word - pays the AFOREMENTIONED fortune teller $100 for sex. After the event results in less than satisfaction for Mr. Frankenstein, he murders the fortune teller in a brutal fury. As it turns out, the man in the costume is named Gunther Straker, and his father is the sideshow's barker (the "Alive! Alive!" guy), Conrad (Kevin Conway). If you've seen your fair share of slasher flicks from the '80s, you know the drill from here - Gunther's mask gets removed, the kids are discovered in the ride after hours, and the father-and-son murder duo begin offing these meddling kids. No minty freshness here.

What we have in this movie, though, is some weird villain in Gunther, and I'm not just talking about appearance. Yes, he's pretty weird-looking. Kind of like some hybrid bat-man (and not of the Bruce Wayne variety) with big protruding teeth and a face that looks like it's separated into two entirely different sections. But the true conundrum of Gunther, at least to this reporter, are his actions, and the subtle nuances that director Hooper gives his villain. Firstly, here we have a slasher villain paying for sex ion the genre where sex almost always invariably equal death. Secondly, when all the other teens are killed by various implements from within the ride's confines, and it becomes Gunther vs. Amy, as expected, there's all sorts of hints that poor Mr. Man-Bat is inherently SMITTEN with Amy. It's never said, but trust me, it's implied.

The movie's best attribute is the cast. The acting is top notch pretty much across the board, with Berridge showing off more than just her giant breasts (that's the last time, I promise) as very non-final girl-style final girl Amy. It's no wonder that she was cast in an Academy Award-winning film just three years later. This wasn't surprising to me, however - Hooper has always succeeded in finding actors who fit the script's characters like a glove, from Gunner Hansen as Leatherface himself to Robert "Freddy Krueger" Englund chewing scenery and stealing the show in "Eaten Alive." Wayne Doba, who plays Gunther Straker, might not be on equal footing with those two luminaries, but he's a very effectiev villain, with a strange gait and weirdly emotional body language making the character stand out in your mind among the pack of like monstrous killers that roamed grindhouses back in the day.

Alright, time to wrap up this little dog and pony show. The theory that "The Funhouse" is a movie that actively dislikes other slasher movies is a theory that definitely has some credence, as the movie goes out of its way to feature a teen disobeying her parents, smoking pot, and ALMOST having sex as the eponymous "final girl" - along with that masterful opening scene calling memories of "Psycho." Viewed apart from that snide criticism, however, this is a movie with great atmosphere, well-played teens, and truly fascinating villains. Dean Koontz actually wrote the novel based on this film (under a pseudonym, of course), and at one point there was a prequel book in the works, explaining the backgrounds of Conrad and Gunther Straker and their murderous career that occurred before this film. Now that is one tome I would like to get my hands on.

Horror Nerd DVD Bonus: "Ju-On: White Ghost" and "Ju-On: Black Ghost"

Note to Platinum Dunes - THIS is how you reboot a franchise. While everybody and their dog was busy talking about the guy in the red-and-black sweater, I was busy watching these little-seen gems from the land of the rising sun. In fact, I'm dead certain that I am the ONLY person reading or writing this who has seen these. Nonetheless, the "Ju-On" and "Grudge" series have very dedicated fans...myself included. Hell, between a region-free DVD player and the disc from Amazon UK, these two movies cost me $80. I don't regret it. It's the fanboy curse. There's nine films that make up the complete "Ju-On/Grudge" experience, and they equal what is, without a doubt, my favorite movie series.

During my initial J-horror buying binge, two of the first movies I bought (for the grand total of $6.78, making them the best investments I've ever made in terms of use per dollar spent) were "Ju-On: The Grudge 1 and 2." The first one I'd seen before; me and T-Go rented it a few years back when the first American "Grudge" was released, and wanted to see the series in its roots before watching the remake in order to sound faux-sophisticated. At the time, I was very underwhelmed, finding it slow and plodding. It also didn't help the flick that, as per usual during those college days, I was surfing the net and only giving it half of my attention.

Flash forward four years to the summer of 2008. I pop "Ju-On: The Grudge" into the DVD player, in the middle of the night, with no distractions, and BAM - the movie knocks me right the hell over. There are horror fans who decry almost all Japanese horror films for their sameness, but, to this reporter, "Ju-On: The Grudge" is utterly unique not only within the horror genre, but among the "ghost girl" movies that dot the J-horror landscape, as well. It's broken apart chapter structure, which makes the viewer active, constantly thinking and looking for the connections between the doomed characters, is cool to the max. While first-time watchers suspect that all of these people are doomed no matter what, we're still on the edge of our seat, praying for Rika or Hitomi or Tatsuya to find SOME way to escape the death sentence they've inadvertently sentenced themselves to. And then there's Kayako...

Of all the horror villains I'd seen before, and since, Kayako struck a very deep chord with me, for whatever reason. It's a completely unapologetic villain, completely happy committing atrocities on very innocent people, which stands in stark contrast to the "Emo-ization" of the villain that we've seen at multiplexes in the last few years. More than anything else, however, Kayako is memorable; writer-director Takashi Shimizu gave trained contortionist and ballet dancer Takako Fuji an insanely creepy set of trademark movements and mannerisms. Shimizu was the painter, Fuji was the canvas, and with a bad girl as bad as Kayako, it's no wonder why this flick crossed over into the States and spawned a franchise of its own.

Last year marked the tenth anniversary of the "Ju-On" series, and as such, original creator Shimizu and producer Taka Ichise commissioned the production of THESE particular films (long enough introduction?). Kayako is gone, but what remains is the spirit of the series - the opening text that clues us on on just what our characters will be facing, the music lifted directly from the first two V-Cinema films, and most importantly, more than a few scenes with genuine power to get under your skin and make you THINK, not only about the scary stuff, but for the characters who the unfortunate acts are happening to. They are not as good as the series at its absolute best, but both are definitely highly entertaining entries in this amazing series. Not sure if they'd be worth eighty dollars to the sane person, but if you've already got a region-free player and a few bucks to spare, there's some guaranteed chills waiting for you here.

"Ju-On: White Ghost," written and directed by Ryuta Miyake, is the darker of the two stories. Much like the other Japanese "Ju-On" films, it is broken up into character-focused chapters (ten instead of the usual six this time). The film introduces us to several interconnected people, most notably Akane (played by Natsuki Kasa as a small child, and Akina Minami as a teenager). Her father is one of the unfortunate early victims of this film's version of the Ju-On (for the uninitiated, a Ju-On is the living curse that destroys, with surgical precision, anything and anyone it touches) is a VERY creepy-looking older woman, carrying a basketball for yet-unknown reasons.

As "Ju-On: White Ghost" continues, it soon becomes clear that the tone of this story is MUCH different from the Kayako stories. While the original Saeki murders of those films were shown in their aftermaths, this movie shows all of the bad stuff in grisly detail, particularly in what the entire movie builds towards - the birth of the curse, which stems from a typical, loving family, with MAJOR issues and secrets. Tsuyoshi Moro plays Isobe, the black sheep of the family, slowly snapping as a result of constant pressure from his father to make something of himself. In addition, he's a pedophile, who (in extremely memorable, almost uncomfortable scenes) has a more than familial interest in his niece (who also happens to be the childhood friend of Akane). When he fails a bar exam, he boils over, brutally murdering the entire family in a protracted, almost perfect sequence.

Just like "Ju-On: The Grudge," there's a sense of hopeless that runs underneath White Ghost. We know what the curse in these movies encompasses; we know the power that it possesses, and we see the horrific acts that lead to the creation of two distinct vengeful spirits. The bodies pile up fast in this one (Akane's father as a child and her high-school friends as a teen, an innocent delivery boy making a trek to the death house, etc.), but while the movie didn't show us any of Akane's years between her father's death and her life as a high school student...I badly wanted her to live. And *SPOILER ALERT* this is a "Ju-On" film with an upbeat ending, at least by the standards of this series, as the spirit of Akane's childhood friend spares her life and releases her from the curse.

"Ju-On: White Ghost" hits all the right notes for a Ju-On story - likable characters, a good lead female in Akane, and Moro as a truly despicable human villain. As an added bonus, Toshio Saeki makes a fun little cameo stalking the doomed family's dog...

**** 1/2 out of *****.

Mari Asato's "Ju-On: Black Ghost" is more thoughtful and restrained than "White Ghost," but no less effective. The grittiness and more explicit gore is replaced by a drawn-out slow burn in this one, but if you're a fan of this series, you won't mind that in the slightest.

In addition, it's the more streamlined of the two films. While "White Ghost" has a large cast of characters and more than a few subplots, "Black Ghost" is largely about two people - poor little Fukie (Hana Matsumoto) and her mother Yokota (Masanobu Katsumora). The movie opens with a startling scene of Fukie collapsing on her school floor, and in early segments, we get more scenes indicating that not all is right with this seemingly ordinary young girl. She collapses again at her own home in front of her rightly worried parents - immediately after a VERY familar sound emanates from her vocal chords.

Eventually, Fukie is sent to a hospital, where doctors find a very strange and disturbing peculiarity - a cistation in her uterus. Before birth, Fukie absorbed the body of her identical twin, resulting in two people born in one body. Jealous at not being robbed of life, it seems that the spirit of the unborn twin is the Ju-On for this go round. As we've seen so many times before with this series, not everything is as it seems...

"Black Ghost" also has its scary moments, particularly the bits with the kind-hearted nurse who takes Fukie underneath her wing. Her fate is combined with the end of one of the rather unimportant characters we're introduced to early, but when the payoff of Nurse Yuko's story is reached, it really hits you in the gut. In addition to that, the closing chapters of the film introduce us to Fukie's aunt Mariko (Yuri Nakamura), a psychic healer who attempts to undo the damage that the unborn spirit is attempting to cause in the living world. The scenes of Mariko and her family holed up in their home, chanting incantations to keep themselves safe after realizing that the curse has struck them, were very unsettling.

And then there's the murders that bookend the film. I won't spoil them, but it comes as a true surprise when it's revealed just who these unfortunate souls are. Since this movie is also revealed out of order, we know the fates of the victims before the film's ending, making the proceedings all the more heartbreaking as this batch of victims attempts to cheat death.

**** 1/2 out of *****.

So, there you have it - two new "Ju-On" stories, produced by the original series creators, with likable characters, shocks, chills, and Toshio cameos galore. Highly recommended if you're a fan of this series, mildly recommended if you're not (and if you already own a region-free player).