IHR induction #42: "Puppet Master" (1989, David Schmoeller)

Well, this marks a first for the International (National) Horror Registry - a direct-to-video film. Remember the days of rampant, brick-and-mortar video stores, loyal reader? Remember countless classic VHS covers looking back at you, often with words like "Massacre" and "School" screaming back at you along with the bloody images? Pepperidge Farm remembers.

To be sure, "Puppet Master" is some kind of revolutionary film. Not in the way that anything it does is minty fresh - you've seen a thousand "killer doll" movies before this one, and probably a thousand after. But "Puppet Master" was the proof that not only COULD a movie that didn't have any sort of theatrical release do gangbusters business, but that it could hold water among some stiff competition in the horror community, and be kinda-sorta recognized as a modern classic in its own right. In addition to that, it put its film studio on the map. Full Moon Pictures, which has gone on to produce approximately 9,000 low-budget doll-related movies since (including about 1,000 sequels to this particular motion picture), was in its VERY early days when Blade, Tunneler, Leech Woman and the rest came along. After that, it became a veritable factory. This movie was very much the project designed to make a name for Full Moon, with studio head Charles Band even penning the script.

Since this IS a DTVHS film, however, you probably know what you're getting. The actors may be decidedly non-Shakesperian, the budget may be nineteen leagues below anything Michael Bay has ever even THOUGHT about attempting, and some of the writing may be a bit...suspect, but who cares? You've got killer dolls, a couple sex scenes, some admittedly awesome kill scenes, and an intereseting twist on the slasher subgenre, and you indeed do have a movie that deserves the "modern classic" tag.

THE MOVIE!!

The first scene in this movie introduces us to Andre Toulon (William Hickey), creator of several bizarre "living" marionette puppets brought back to life via some very shady Egyptian magic, is putting the finishing touches on his newest creation, Shredder Khan (who is summarily never seen again). The time period: 1939, pre-war America (California's Bodega Bay Inn to be exact). Almost as if on cue, two Nazi spies burst into the hotel with hostile intent, prompting Toulon to shoot himself in the mouth before the Nazis are able to capture his creations.

Flash forward fifty years, where we meet our true primary characters in the movie. As opposed to having a group of teen/college students serving as fodder for the killer dolls, which would have been the wholly expected and wholly welcome thing, Puppet Master takes a truly bizarre turn and gives us a group of adult psychics as protagonists, or antagonists, depending on your point of view. I say antagonists because with the exception of Paul Le Mat's Alex character, every single one of these mentally gifted adults is a douchebag in some way or another.

Here's the The simple setup of "Puppet Master": the psychics are drawn to the Bodega Bay Inn because they all have disturbing dreams involving the place believed to have been sent from Neil Gallagher (Jimmie Skaggs, who is pretty slimy - as well as hammy - in this role). Little do they know that Andre Toulon's creations from half-a-century ago are still around, and are none too pleased about the master's home being invaded by these guys. As the script goes swimmingly along, the film takes on a very familiar "slasher movie" approach, as two of the characters - Alex and Megan (Robin Frates) - immediately stand out as the only two people in the movie that don't scream "kill me" within the first 30 minutes. Our big climax arrives after the puppets have disposed of all the secondary psychics, leading to a pretty predictable twist involving the Neil Gallagher character.

This flick's ace in the hole amidst all the tedium is the puppets themselves. In a movie with some pretty uninspired concepts and execution (even the direction by David Schmoeller looks drab), one would expect the puppets to be the same - but you would be very, very wrong. The little devils are designed well, the stop-motion photography is decidedly less than mock-worthy, and the ways that they dispose of their victims in the movie results in some pretty ingenious stuff, especially the death scene during the movie's climax. While I've significantly downgraded by stance on this movie over the years, one thing that hasn't fell off at all is my love for this one particular kill scene, which is still just as long, protracted and graphic even after 15 viewings. Awesome, awesome stuff.

The quick rundown on the cool killer dolls of "Puppet Master" for the uninitiated:
Blade - trenchcoat wearing master of stabbing weapons, with a knife for one hand and hook for another
Leech Woman - The group's only female, who vomits bloodsucking leeches onto her victims, which leads to another classic death scene
Pinhead - No, not Doug Bradley; this movie's Pinhead is the "brute strength" puppet of the bunch, ever-present in a lot of the movie's scarier moments.
Tunneler - Some of the movie's bloodiest moments are because of this guy, aptly named because he has a drill built into his head.
And, amazingly enough, there are several more, both in this movie and in the sequels.

Well, it's conclusion paragraph time. What more is there to know about "Puppet Master?" There's a pretty enjoyable performance by Paul Le Mat, some excellent special effects work from David Allen (with both the puppet and gore effects), and some pretty damn amazing kill scenes. In between, there's a whole heap o' tedium, but if you can get through this movie's more mundane moments, there's a pretty big reward to reap. For the record, if you want a "Puppet Master" movie that has a more satisfying story, go with the third entry, which focuses entirely on Andre Toulon during the days of World War II. That one doesn't just have some awesome new toys, but some genuinely GOOD actors to boot.

IHR induction #41: "Marebito" (2004, Takashi Shimizu)

This sort of thing doesn't happen often; usually, after seeing a movie for the first time, I'm able to make a snap judgment and stick to that judgment for the rest of my life. They're not supposed to haunt the viewer, to make them question various events that take place throughout the running time and pay close attention even on subsequent viewings for any and all small details. "Marebito" is just such a movie. Almost two years after watching it for the first time, I still don't know quite what to make of it, and while ordinarily this is a very frustrating plot aspect, it all somehow feels completely at home within this prime slice of J-horror goodness.

First things first, I'm a big mark for the guy behind the madness. Takashi Shimizu is somewhere on my figurative Mount Rushmore of horror directors, but Marebito was a HUGE departure for the guy. Up until this point, Shimizu had cut his teeth on the "Ju-On" series, both Stateside and in Japan, having cranked out five movies starring his meal ticket Kayako Saeki within short order. The "Ju-On" and "Grudge" films are, for better or worse (depending on your outlook) all the same - a certain croaking villain, a dark, mysterious atmosphere, and a decidedly non-gory tone. Within the first five minutes of "Marebito," the audience is treated to the sight of a man ramming a knife directly through his own eyeball. Amazingly enough, this is only the beginning of the insanity.

It does virtually no good to explain the plot of this film. If you really want the complete blow-by-blow, look it up on Wikipedia. The bare bones version is this: extremely morbid photojournalist Masuoka (Shinya Tsukamoto) is in search of the ultimate in fear, and with the AFOREMENTIONED knife-ramming incident as his impetus (which he caught on tape, conveniently enough), descends into the Tokyo underworld to find it. From here ensues one of the most baffling narratives in the history of film, comprising flashback, hallucination, things which may or may not be, and ultimately winding up leaving the viewer completely shell-shocked as to what they've just seen. And this isn't just the words of some J-horror obsessed loser; essentially, damn near everyone that I've talked to about this flick has the same experience. Namely, "the hell?"

There have been other horror movies that are less about their A-Z plot development than their hallucinogenic flavoring, and "Marebito" is the "Citizen Kane" of this type of movie. Every major and minor event in the movie is off-the-charts weird, starting with what the movie is really all about - Masuoka's discovery of a restrained, nude mute girl (played by Tomomi Miyashita in an ungodly performance). Taking her back to his apartment and naming her "F," the relationship (which is completely non-sexual) unspools, as Masuoka finds out that this girl is barely a step up from feral. Oh yeah, there's also the catch that the only thing she will eat or drink is human blood...

The other central theme of this movie is the nature of urban legends. Of course, the "city within a city" myth has always been a popular topic of discussion in the "unexplained phenomena" community via the hollow earth theory and the works of Richard Sharpe Shaver. Shaver himself is actually name-dropped within the movie several times, and for the uninitiated, he claimed to know the reason for virtually every problem on Earth - detrimental robots, or "deros," demonic, sadistic beings left behind by alien visitors centuries ago, engage in every practice from abducting women to causing natural disasters. Yup. That's what Shaver wrote. In addition to the Deros (who look extremely creepy in the fleeting glimpses we get of them in this film), "Marebito" features Men in Black, Shangri-la, and, of course, hot feral chicks who lap up blood directly from freshly cut-open fingers.

As mentioned already (I've already got one AFOREMENTIONED in this induction and don't need another one, dammit!), this movie is far gorier than any movie that Shimizu had done before, or since. The "vampire" aspect of "F" is played up to full hilt and given to the audience to absorb in its entirety. In some of the more disturbing scenes, the character of Masuoka becomes a kind of murderous father to "F," killing innocent victims and bringing them back to his charge. Sick, sick stuff, and while there is the implication within the film that everything we are seeing is hallucination, these scenes have both symbolic and literal power.

By this point, you've probably decided whether or not "Marebito" is for you. Most assuredly, it's not for everyone. If you're expecting to walk away from a movie completely satisfied and with a clear understanding of the meaning of what you just saw, you're not going to get it with this film. If the more frustrating aspects of this kind of film don't bother you, however, there is much reward. While the movie is shot on digital video, Shimizu shows his deft hand with both camera tricks and coaxing phenomenal performances out of actors, as both Tsukamoto and Miyashita join the pantheon of great horror film performances (especially Miyashita).

Of course, the purpose of any horror movie is to scare the audience, and this is one of the very few movies that I've seen in the past five years that scared the bejesus out of me. In particular, Masuoka meeting a ghost underneath Tokyo and the game of cat-and-mouse with strange agents looking to reclaim "F" did quite the number on me. My most ringing endorsement? I began to watch this movie on a Friday night, as usual having not slept for almost 24 hours and fully ready to get lulled to sleep with a movie in the background. This movie, however, not only kept me awake, but absolutely ran me over, and continues to do so.

IHR induction #40: "The Wisdom of Crocodiles" (1998, Po-Chih Leong)

I don't know why, but I've been on a real vampire movie kick lately. It seems to be my latest OCD-ish horror buying obsession; way back in my infant-like beginning stages of Horror Nerd-ness, slasher flicks were my thing. After getting tossed aside like a $20 whore, J- and K-horror were my next conquest. Then Dario Argento. And now, after a long period of just buying whatever the hell I felt like, I'm all about Hammer Studios and a certain Gothic vampire played by Christopher "Never Seems to Age" Lee. Nevertheless, all this blood feasting jogged my memory, and made me search out one of my old favorites from the Horror Nerd library.

Ahhh..."The Wisdom of Crocodiles." Sure, it may say Immortality on the United States DVD cover, but it's still real (and European) to me, dammit! THIS particular motion picture was purchased by yours truly during a different, non-horror binge - that being a buying session devoted to my favorite actor of all time, Jude "The Pimp" Law. In the past, I've annoyed pretty much anyone who will listen yammering about the greatness of all things Jude, so the short, short version - there's actors who take easy roles and then do something slightly out of their element, netting instant Oscar gold, and then there's the ACTOR'S actors, who seek out challenges at every turn. That's Jude Law; he pulls off a seamless disappearing act in his movies...but wait, I'm yammering. Yeah, he's awesome, and it's not a man crush, I swear.

Well, "The Wisdom of Crocodiles" was a little independent horror movie released in the U.K. way back in 1998. It came out before Law's arrival Stateside via The Talented Mr. Ripley and the Oscar nomination put him on the A-list map and set him on the fast track to having enough money to afford a solid gold island. As such, what you get with this movie is the best of many different worlds; a screenplay that ignores the conventions of mainstream horror flicks (jump scares, easily digestible plots, emo teenage victim characters, etc.), and a young, hungry actor at the top of his game, eager to cut his teeth and prove his worth. Or something.

Long-winded introductory soliloquy is over. With that...

THE MOVIE!!
Most horror films wish they could be as good as the first twenty minutes of "The Wisdom of Crocodiles." We are introduced to Steven Grlscz (pronounced "Grillsh," and played by Law), a charming, likable man who saves a depressed woman from killing herself in London's subway. He takes her home to his apartment, impresses her with a few parlor tricks, guides her to his bedroom, begins making love to her, then bites her right in the freakin' neck and murders her. The screenplay isn't lazy with the implications of the act, either, as this part of the story lingers and lingers. Much like Norman Bates cleaning up after his mother during the middle sections of "Psycho," we see every aspect of Steven's body disposal, as he dumps the spent corpse in a remote swamp.

To state the obvious, Steven Grlscz is indeed a vampire, although the "V" word is never once even mentioned in the movie. The rules of vampirism in the world of "The Wisdom of Crocodiles" are completely unlike anything I've ever seen in a movie before. He is able to walk about freely in the daylight and he doesn't have overly theatrical fangs, for starters. As for the quirks that this story introduces, Grlscz has many. His victim choice is limited exclusively to women, and there seems to be a stipulation that the women must have some degree of love for him, hence the seduction aspect. He also seems to have next to no control over his bodily functions, requiring some sort of mechanical contraption to breathe while he sleeps. This is some weird movie.

As the movie's second act begins, Grlscz (who works by day as a sketch artist) meets Anne Levels (Elina Lowensohn, who is very likable and engaging in the role), a beautiful factory foreman who also suffers from debilitating asthma. I don't know how many beautiful female factory foreman exist in the world (since I work in a factory, and all of my bosses are Christian Bale-grizzled dudes), but I swear, it comes across as much more realistic than it sounds. There's your main plot cog, people - Grlscz sets his sights on Anne as his next victim to add her to his collection of trophies, with the wholly expected twist being that his love for kind-hearted Anne will eventually save him.

In this regard, there's nothing minty-fresh about this film. In its other touches, however, this is truly a one-of-a-kind vampire movie. For starters, it actually deals with the logistics of how a modern-day vampire would go about his business, and makes the movie-opening serial killer montage carry some weight as the body of Grlscz's initial victim is found. Rather than attempt to cover up and lie his way out of it, Grlscz takes an interesting approach to foiling the law - he becomes an active participant in the investigation, even becoming semi-friends Inspector Healey (Timothy Spall), the lead investigator in charge of the case. Instead of being an antagonistic relationship, the two characters become genuine friends, especially after Grlscz assists Healey recover his wedding ring from a gang of street punks.

Of course, it's the sordid details that really stick with you, and there's plenty to be had here. The opening murder scene, the strange collection of "emotions" that Grlscz has harvested from his victims (it seems that he somehow "absorbs" whatever each of his females feels about him at the moment of their death), and the scene where Anne has to deal with a dying co-worker after suffering a horrible on-the-job accident are all gritty aspects of the story that do tons to endear the story and make it stick out in your mind.

In the end, that's what makes this movie something special. "The Wisdom of Crocodiles" is just an inherently unique vampire film; the characters are well-crafted (even Inspector Healey is portrayed as sympathetic), the writing seems as logical as possible for a movie about a love-feeding vampire roaming about in modern-day London, and the acting is quite simply fantastic. You'd be hard-pressed to find five vampire films that feel as realistic as this one, but you'd also be hard-pressed to find five that are as emotional. Twi-tards, check this movie out - this, along with "Let the Right One In," represents the "vampire love story" done without absolutely neutering the subject matter.

Horror Nerd Cinema Bonus: "The Rite"

Firstly, it's been a long time since I've done one of these. If my calculations are correct (to channel Doc Brown for a moment), ironically enough, the last "night out at the cinema" style review was another exorcism flick, "The Last Exorcism." In many ways, that was a movie that just infuriated me; there were long stretches of it that were really great, which made the parts in it that sucked (most specifically the final 15 minutes or so) all the more frustrating. Thankfully, that's FAR from the case with Mikael Hafstrom's "The Rite," a movie that's about five times as good as I expected considering that there was a good probability earlier in the day that (a) I'd skip the movie based on the 15% rating it has on RottenTomatoes, or (b) fall asleep in the damn movie theater just like I do pretty much every other week. Even more thankfully, it avoids all of the faults of "The Last Exorcism," and is really one of the most satisfying films of any genre that I've seen in a public movie house in quite some time.

For starters, I have to make one thing abundantly clear - there's one aspect of this movie's promotional campaign that is VERY misleading. It's Anthony Hopkins' name emblazened in big, bold letters above the marquee, complete with the ever-so-handy "Academy Award Winner" tag that accompanies every recipient of those awards for the rest of their career. In truth, he's a secondary character; the movie's central story and character arc revolves around a character portrayed by an actor (Colin O'Donoghue) that I've never heard of, seconded by an actress that I know as Jude Law's love interest in "Repo Men" and the tough-as-nails chick from "Predators." It matters little; there's just enough Hopkins there to satisfy anyone who plunked down their hard-earned money to see Hannibal Lecter himself, and what you actually see is compelling enough to warrant the dollars spent.

The movie immediately introduces us to Michael Kovak (O'Donaghue), a young mortician's assistant going through the grisly motions of embalming a body. He performs it with a cool detachment, and in these opening scenes, he's shown to be very distant with his father (Rutger Hauer, who makes the most of his screen time). There's also a cameo by Chris Marquette, the guy who will forever be known to yours truly as Linderman from "Freddy vs. Jason," as Michael's friend in a bar scene that establishes the stipulations of Michael's life; everyone in his family turns out to be either a mortician or a Priest. Since hanging out with his father doesn't sound like fun, it's off to seminary for Michael.

Throughout the movie, we're shown various bits from Michael's childhood involving the fate of his mother; since my movie theater has terrible sound, I believe one of the bits of dialogue states that she committed suicide. The strained relationships with both parental units has obviously taken quite a toll on Michael, and The Rite wastes little time establishing the "crisis of faith" motif that rides throughout the flick's robust 127-minute running time. Moving right along, his instructor at seminary rejects a resignation letter, and instead sends him to Rome to take an exorcism class.

While there, he meets up with an attractive journalist named Angelina (Alice Braga, the aforementioned Repo Men and Predators hottie) taking the same class in order to both get a story and atone for the death of her brother, and (finally) Hopkins, who portrays Father Lucas, the grizzled, experienced Father Merrin of the film. It goes without saying for a guy with as long and storied of a pedigree as Hopkins has, but he's electric in the role, lending slight touches of comic relief along with his trademark charm and creepy vibe when called for. This being a movie about exorcism, it doesn't take long for Michael and Lucas to begin seeing some VERY troubled patients.

It's in these passages that "The Rite" has some very effective horror scenes. I won't go into extreme detail about the more fantastic aspects of this story (which was "suggested by" a book written by Matt Baglio, which is definitely a first for this reporter when it comes to crediting), but there's one possessed victim in particular - a pregnant 16-year-old who may or may not have been raped by her father - that comes across as both heartbreaking and stomach-churning. Awesome stuff, and while all of this is going on, the two wildly different Priests carry on a nice little debate about the events unfolding before their very eyes.

The biggest surprise that I had with "The Rite" was just how it chose to present its story. The journey that the character of Michael goes through - a doubter who frequently questions the existence of the very thing that he has spent years of his life studying - is the main conflict in the movie, and as all sorts of demonic happenings begin populating the movie, it comes as to little surprise as to just what the final exorcism in the movie entails. While trying my best not to spoil anything, I have to say that "The Rite" boasts two things that instantly put it ahead of many, many other recent thriller films - it doesn't have some wackamaroo twist ending, and it actually has a solid, A-B character arc that is played out in a logical manner. I'll leave it up to the viewer to see this unfold.

There's not really a whole lot more to say about this movie, other than the fact that I highly enjoyed it. The direction by Hafstrom is gritty and atmospheric, the jump scares are kept to a minimum (although there is one very literal "cat scare" that made me laugh in the theater), and all of the actors give it their damndest, particularly Hopkins and Braga. For reasons that I won't get into, I doubt there will be many other readers of this review who will enjoy the movie as much as I did, but without hyperbole, this is a movie that has one of the most emotional, resonant, and satisfying ending sequences I've seen from a major studio movie in years. *** 1/2 out of ****, and highly recommended.

IHR induction #39: "The Serpent and the Rainbow" (1987, Wes Craven)

Well, fellow horror nerds, we're living in a time when the zombie movie is...quite prevalent. Those who know me on a few message boards are likely sick of hearing me harp on this subject, but zombie movies...ugh. Some of them are very good; many of them are just very monotonous, and seem utterly constricted not only by a very stringent set of rules and regulations (think slasher movies with more flesh-eating), but in the way they go about telling the story. Granted, I'm not the foremost authority on zombie films, but when it comes to the ones that people have seen in the last 20 years or so, they fit into one of two categories:

(1) Overtly political hamfest where human beings < zombies on the morality barometer, or;

(2) Out-and-out cheesefest, which may or may not be parody.

Wes Craven' 1987 film "The Serpent and the Rainbow" is a movie that few people remember; it was in and out of theaters in the time it takes to drive to a fast-food restaurant, and didn't do much business in the rental market. It was also released during one of horror's severe down times; slasher movies had died a slow, painful death, and while Freddy Krueger was riding strong, Jason Voorhees was seeing steadily declining return. 23 years later, however, and viewed without the prism of trend, this movie is just amazing on so many levels. In the humble opinion of this reporter, it's one of the SCARIEST movies of all time, bar none, and has a few well-written characters played by accomplished actors. To this day, this remains Craven's best movie by a country mile (yep, way better than "Nightmare," "Scream," "Red Eye" and even "Deadly Friend").

THE MOVIE!!

The film is based on a book of the same name by Wade Davis, but to say that the film is freely adapted is one of the most liberal adaptations of this phrase ever put to celluloid. Anyway, what the flick gives us is your basic treasure hunting setup. Your main character is Dennis Alan (played by Bill Pullman, who invests tons of heart and soul into the character), an anthropologist hired by a humongo pharmaceutical corporation to retrieve a precious voodoo drug from Haiti. Since "Serpent and the Rainbow" runs a robust 90 minutes, it wastes little time getting to the meat of the story (man, I love that phrase).

The middle act of "Serpent and the Rainbow" is made up largely of passages where Pullman gets to know the lay of the land, both political and spiritual. Haiti is in the midst of a vast revolution against its totalitarian government, which is represented in the film by the quite terrifying figure Captain Dargent Peytraud (Zakes Mokae, absolutely aces in this role). Seeing as how Peytraud is staunchly militaristic, the background of revolution only makes him more ill-tempered, providing the movie with some of its best scenes as the Captain grows none too enamored with this overzealous Westerner discovering the secrets of the island.

A few words on those secrets. For any uninitiated souls out there, the term "zombie" actually has its roots in Haitian voodoo; rather than being undead brain eaters, real-life zombies (and there have been several documented cases for anyone willing to look) are corpses that have been reanimated by the force of external drugs. These stories were talked about with much fear in the days of slavery; slaves looked forward to death, as it meant an end to their misery, but indeed some could not escape servitude even in death. Haitian zombies, in essence had no will or personality of their own other than their master's. In the world of this film, Haitian voodoo is the mechanism that Captain Peytraud and the government uses to keep the people of the island in fear.

During the course of the film, Pullman meets up with a witch doctor named Mozart (Brent Jennings), even witnessing the death of a local woman in the film's first act (and by the way, there are two nightmare sequences that revolve around this very woman that are two of the movie's most effective and horrifying scenes - that snake to the head is vicious). After the mandatory run-ins with Peytraud, Pullman goes back to Mozart, and the duo begin their final experiments creating the perfect zombie drug for mass production.

Many critics view the final act of this film as a let-down after the very story and character-heavy initial two-thirds. Personally, I believe "Serpent and the Rainbow" to be one of the very best-executed horror thrillers of all time; it spends just the right amount of time making its plot and people seem important. Thus, when all hell breaks loose, there's a genuine emotional investment in the outcome. Not to mention that we are also privy to two of the single most painful and/or scary scenes in film history in the form of torturous acts that Peytraud takes against Pullman. But I'll leave those up to the viewer to discover.

Finally, in addition, this is yet another movie that was introduced to me on TNT's MonsterVision, and that was one Saturday night where sleep didn't come easy. I'd seen Romero's lurching, rotting zombies many times before; I'd never seen anything quite like the world that Wes Craven presented in this film, where undead human beings were a result of religious practice and a brutal dictatorship was just as much of a threat as bitchy humans barricading themselves against hordes of brain-hungry ghouls. It was due to this film that I did more reading up on the subjects of zombification and voodoo, and I'd highly recommend that any horror fan out there OD'd on the Dawn-Shaun's of the world should do the same. Trust me - hearing some of the stories that have come down the pike from Haiti throughout the years is instant nightmare fuel, even for the most jaded horror fan. This movie will conjure up curiosity in yo9ur mind to seek out that very fuel. You have been warned.

IHR induction #38: "Creepshow" (1982, George A. Romero)

Firstly, unless you've been living under a rock for the past week, Leslie Nielsen has crossed over into the great hereafter...and, indeed, I didn't even know he was sick. While this reporter remembers him first and foremost for "Naked Gun 33 1/3" and its immortal "Like a blind man in an orgy, I was going to have to feel things out" line, the movie getting inducted in this round is a close second on my all-time Nielsen barometer. So Godspeed, Leslie - you will be remembered for a VAST array of immortal celluloid.

Secondly, "Creepshow" the feature film is definitely one of the most entertaining, funny, and downright unique horror movies that you'll ever see. Younger Horror Nerd readers out there might be under the impression that the HBO series "Tales From the Crypt" was the first creation in mass media to pay unabashed tribute to the bygone 1950s E.C. horror comics; wrong-'em, boyo. There's also a 1974 British film called "Tales From the Crypt" as well as several anthology movies throughout the '70s to prove you wrong, as well as this - the best horror anthology film of all time, period.

It certainly helps when you've got the talent that this flick has behind the camera. George Romero, a director who I'm no fan of (while the rest of the internet horror community waxes rhapsodic about the "Living Dead" movies, I've always been severely underwhelmed by them) but who no doubt has a unique voice and visual flair, is your captain, while Stephen King is the creative energy, penning the screenplay and even playing a major acting role for the first (and only) time in his long, storied career. Add in a few well-placed and well-played character actors, some very interesting camera tricks employed by Romero to simulate the "comic book" theme, and two candidates for "Best 'Tales From the Crypt' story not seen on the TV show," and you've got the recipe for one of my childhood favorite movies.

Before I get the hell going already with the brief synopsis portion of the review, a few words on horror anthologies in general - in short, they're awesome, and we need more of them. While 90-120 minute horror tales that spend time developing victim characters and delving into villainous back stories are all well and good, sometimes, I just want the flash fiction version of horror - give me some admittedly dumb and overplayed characters, an unapologetic basic plot, and an unfair/ironic/morality tale ending played out over a 20-minute timeframe. Repeat the formula five times, and I'm good to go. It's a formula that has worked for many different movies, not only in '70s films like "The House that Dripped Blood" and "The Vault of Fear" but in the vastly underrated "Tales From the Hood" and in the 2008 minor masterpiece "Trick 'R Treat." So take heed, horror directors of tomorrow; we need a good 5-6 story opus every few years.

I suppose the introduction is long and indulgent enough now.

THE MOVIE!!

Most horror anthology movies have some kind of framework, and "Creepshow" is built around the very thing that inspired it - horror comics. The stories in the movie come out of a fictional comic book that a young boy (played by Stephen King's real-life son Joe) is reading. It should also be noted that the boy's father is a screaming douchebag who admonishes the small child for his choice of literature. 'Cus you know his life is going to turn out well.

Segment 1 - "Father's Day"
This story sets the tone of the movie very well, establishing the typical "Tales From the Crypt"/E.C. horror formula. If you aren't familiar with that formula, here it is: Jerk character(s) do something jerky, get supernatural comeuppance at the end. An ensemble cast (including a very young Ed Harris) is gathered at some hoity-toity mansion to celebrate Father's Day - and wouldn't you know it, the titular father in this family is coming back for a little revenge against his money-grubbing, superficial family. Hey, that cake tastes good, dammit.

Segment 2 - "The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill"
Based on King's creepy short story "Weeds," this segment is both classic E.C. and classic King rolled up into one, with a denounment that will stick with you long after the end credits roll. King himself plays Jordy Verrill, an uneducated country bumpkin who sees a meteor crash onto his farm land. He takes it home, hoping to get a handsome reward from the college, but instead finds himself f**ked over royally when a green, mossy substance begins growing all over his body as a result of his contact with the meteor. King is aces as the idiot hick Verrill, and the last shot is fourteen kinds of awesome.

Segment 3 - "Something to Tide You Over"
This is where Nielsen comes into the fold as a slightly psychotic and very jealous husband who takes it upon himself to teach a lesson to his philandering wife and her lover. Said lover, I should add, is played by Ted Danson. While there is virtually no explicit gore, this gets my vote for scariest segment in the movie; death by drowning is one of my greatest fears, and Nielsen's preferred method of killing is incredibly sadistic. For all wannabe cinephiles who believe that Leslie Nielsen was only a one-dimensional clown, here's your antidote. He does a fantastic job giving this character both a terrifying and hateable cadence, and when this guy gets what's coming to him, the audience is cheering in the aisles.

Segment 4 - "The Crate"
My personal favorite story in the film. Hal Holbrook plays a college professor who has an incredibly annoying and emotionally abusive wife (Adrienne Barbeau). Much to his luck, a mysterious crate has just arrived at the university containing a creature with a truly insatiable appetite. After witnessing the creature in action, Holbrook takes matters into his own hands and uses the monstrosity as the means of solving his greatest life hurdle. What makes this segment greatness personified? Both main actors are at the top of their game, with Holbrook coming off as an average joe driven to cruel measures and Barbeau as such a dislikable bitch that we're rooting for her character to be brutally murdered.

Segment 5 - "They're Coming to Get You"
This is the only story in the film that I don't particularly care for. That's not to say that it's bad by any means - E.G. Marshall is great as a ruthless businessman who feels like he is invincible from the outside forces of the world. A swarm of bloodthirsty cockroaches inside his apartment serve as the proverbial dose of karma. While it's got a few moments (specifically the ending), I just find this portion of the movie to be a little slow. Sadly, this one usually gets the skip treatment on my DVD player.

I also need to point out that "Creepshow," in its sum total, is one of the best executed movies in the history of the medium. Both Romero and King know precisely what they are trying to accomplish with the film; a live-action comic book, and the direction and screenplay take great pains to make this point come across. The characters are over-the-top, the lighting and visuals are colorful and luminous, even the structure is very comic-like (each segment is about 20 minutes, while your standard comic book is 22 pages long). Visually, the movie is a feast to watch, and just like the horror comics that the stories are inspired by, the stories themselves are creeptacular and keep audience members guessing just how the various tales of moral comeuppance are going to present themselves.

All in all, this is one of the horror essentials. While I have a slight quibble with the story placement (I would have led off with the cockroach story and ended with "The Crate"), it matters little - when it comes to horror movies that are just downright FUN to watch, it's tough to beat this one. It's got some excellent character actors in very well-defined (and admittedly simple) roles, some great gore effects by makeup maestro Tom Savini, and it's also the only movie in cinema history to feature a guy turning into a fully-grown mossy rock. How can you beat that?

IHR induction #37: "House of Usher" (1960, Roger Corman)

Many casual film fans know the name Roger Corman, but not many fully apreciate all the things that the man was able to accomplish. On budgets that won't buy most directors a single day's worth of shooting time, Corman has crafted a body of work over the years that, while the movies themselves would never be confused with Oscar winners, boast more than a few truly memorable cheesefests and the occasional truly good film. This one included.

At the time "House of Usher" was released, Corman had already been an extremely prolific film-maker for many years, releasing as many as seven films per year. Unbelievably, a director whose filmography includes titles such as "Attack of the Crab Monsters," "The Undead" (which was featured on "Mystery Science Theater 3000") and "The Wasp Woman" had failed to achieve much notoriety as a skilled auteur. Then came "House of Usher." In the early portion of the 1960s, the guy who once said that he could make a movie about the Roman empire with a few loincloths and a sagebrush began a long series of can't-miss prospects. Namely, Edgar Allan Poe adaptations starring Vincent Price, one of the most memorable and talented actors in all of cinema. The formula was both successful and good - all in all, eight Corman-Poe movies would be released, but none would approach the greatness of a slightly off-kilter, slightly manic retelling of the Master of the Macabre's greatest short story.

From the onset of the movie, it is very obvious that this isn't an ordinary, somber Poe adaptation. Atmospheric fog and green hues envelop the screen as Philip Winthrop (played with plenty of babyface gusto by Mark Damon) approaches the House of Usher. Any beginning scholar of American literature knows the story - visitor becomes the interloper in the lives of the cursed Usher family, witnesses several strange happenings and a family death, and ultimately a horrific "resurrection" that strangely spells the end of all the creepy debauchery.

Corman's "House of Usher," with a screenplay by Richard Matheson (who would later go on to create the television series "Kolchak: The Night Stalker"), has several aces in its deck. Blessed with a slightly-above-average-by-Corman-standards budget, the director does an amazing job filling up the dreary sets with plenty of genuine creep factor, granting the House that the entire film takes place in with an extremely personable atmosphere. You know what? Scratch all that. This movie has Vincent Price in his prime. Pretty much any movie with the Price Man is worth viewing on that merit alone, and "House of Usher" is no exception.

In the original short story "Fall of the House of Usher," the character of Roderick is this hypochondriac, borderline paranoid schizophrenic character who enacts the horrific climactic event as a result of some sort of bizarre predestination belief. The Richard Matheson script calls for a much more emotional approach; Winthrop has come to the house in order to take Roderick's sister Madeline (Myrna Fahey) away, which does not go over too well with her overprotective brother. Roderick disapproves of the relationship, which started prior to the events of the film and quickly escalated to the lust and engagement phases.

Of course, as the movie unspools, the story enters more traditional Poe territory, as Roderick is obsessed with the notion that his family is cursed, and cannot believe that his sibling has broken the vow they took to let the family bloodline die with them. Suddenly and abruptly (redundancy alert), Madeline is dead, leaveing Philip heartbroken and Roderick wanting only to bury away the past, considering himself halfway to his goal of ridding the world of the Usher name. Also considering that the film goes into the long history of the Usher family - how countless ancestors have become mad, insane aristocratic criminals - the viewer is left to wonder whether or not the tragic death of Madeline is a bad thing.

Then the film's third act begins. During the course of the nonstop barrage of English classes that make up Academia, the finale of "Fall of the House of Usher" is something that sticks with everyone who reads it. Almost 200 years after its initial writing, Poe's shocking final twist is powerful, horrifying, and even revolting when one considers everything that one of the particular characters has gone through. In a micro-budgeted feature film, the ending isn't QUITE as effective, but still resonates as extremely powerful stuff, especially considering the more emotional approach that the film takes.

Longtime readers of this Horror Nerd know that I'm ordinarily not a stickler for what I oh-so-ignorantly define as "older" horror movies; "House of Usher" is a big exception, a movie that I saw some long ago Sunday night when tornado-y weather was dotting the Minnesota landscape (bad prose alert much?). Combined with the external elements, the internal elements of this film - Corman's direction, the atmosphere, and most wonderful of all, Vincent Price and his crazy, over-the-top, infinitely memorable mannerisms - converged to create one of the best classical horror films I've seen. And for all the doubters, this flick is in that oh-so-uppity (and officially accredited) United States National Film Registry, so suck on it.