The Rage and Fury Omnibus, Part II: "Ju-On: The Curse 2" (2000)

After "Ju-On: The Curse" (which was known as simply "Ju-On" when it aired on Japanese television, only adding layers of confusion to the cake already smattered with it) was such a massive word-of-mouth success, a V-cinema sequel seemed like a natural progression for creator Takashi Shimizu to follow. And lo and behold, a short time later (and proving that we Americans aren't the only ones who sequelize and bastardize our creations) along came "Ju-On 2" to TV screens in the land of the rising sun. What this movie is, in essence, is something else entirely - and according to some observers, it ain't even a sequel.

Here's the deal - I've scoured the internet (in a heart-wrenching, exhaustive search that lasted all of thirty minutes) for information on just how exactly this movie came to be, and why they chose to release "Ju-On 2" in the format that it has always known. Namely, a 76-minute film, with the first 30 MINUTES consisting of the final two segments of the original movie. Yup, while this movie is called "Ju-On 2," almost half of the freakin' thing is repeated footage that we just saw (and in the case of Japanese audiences, broadcast on television months earlier). A common theory that I've heard from more than a few casual watchers is that Shimizu shot all of the footage for the original two V-cinema films at once, only for the network to cut some footage from their final cut of "Ju-On: Curse 1." Then its popularity unexpectedly explodes, leading to some smart executive releasing the cut footage, along with the finale of the first film, as a "sequel." Seems like a fair shake to me. I've also heard theories such as government conspiracy, Kayako coming to life, and director laziness, but I'll stick with the original.

So yes, American DVD watcher, you get to use your Chapter Skip button a couple times after popping this bad boy in the DVD player. I'm reacting to this movie based on the stuff that I HADN'T seen before. In all seriousness, the "cut footage" theory makes a ton of sense; the four original chapters in this film look virtually identical in visual style to the original "Ju-On," and characters from that film appear in this one. By and large, the stories are much SHORTER this time - the last two are, at max, five minutes each (although one of them is the most memorable scene in the entirety of the two direct-to-video "Ju-On" films; more on that later). If indeed they are deleted scenes, they were deleted for a reason; the stuff contained in "Ju-On 2," while memorable and occasionally scary, is nowhere near as strong as the slow-burning story that was "Ju-On: The Curse."

How's that for an introduction for what amounts to a 46-minute short film with a VERY long lead-in from the previous movie?

THE MOVIE!!

If you haven't deciphered it by now, this movie is very similar in style to the previous entry. Its structure is broken up into character-focused chapters (and I'm absolutely positive I've used that exact phrase in these reviews before - so sue me, I'm an idiot who isn't creative about coming up with new ways to say the same thing). If you'll recall from the original film, we were shown the origin story of Kayako Saeki (Takako Fuji, once again marvelous in the role, although more sporadically used here) and her son Toshio, two VERY pissed-off ghosts who harbor all sorts of ill will for anyone who enters their home. An entire family was butchered in that film, which ended with a new family moving into the ol' Saeki abode in Nerima.

This movie focuses on that family, along with several police officers involved in the case, the psychic from the previous movie who accompanied her realtor brother along to the sale of the home to this film's family, and, amazingly enough, several others. As you should know by now, "Ju-On" films are far less about their coherent story than they are about their creation of mood and an almost impenetrable sense of dread; the first movie established the template that all of these people we meet are already screwed. The genius is in (a) the buildup, and (b) the payoff, which series creator Takashi Shimizu knows how to give like perhaps no other horror director I've seen. His jump scares aren't the lazy variety "loud noise" sound scare stinger; instead we are SHOWN horrific, creepy, crawly things when we least expect to see them, and are startled not by a movie theater or surround sound system, but by our optic nerves, and what we perceive as a threat. Since these movies still boast Kayako and Toshio, two of the best threats in horror film history, there's still some good nightmare-inducing moments to be hand here, albeit less frequently than its predecessor.

With that, we're going to try something different - small chapter-by-chapter reactions. Both because they should be entertaining and economical, and secondly because I'm already stumped as to how to continue ladling words on this series.

Tatsuya: Unfortunately, this is a segment that was deleted from the original movie for a very good reason. Namely, it's long, boring, and just not very scary. Tatsuya was a minor character from the original film (the AFOREMENTIONED realtor who accompanies his psychic sister to the Saeki home), and as such, already has the curse. Unfortunately, his sister is much worse for wear. Both Tatsuya and his sister meet their end in this segment, but with the exception of Toshio's cameo, it's just not very interesting.



Kamio: This is the "police procedural" segment of this film, as all the mounting death has begun to scare the bejesus out of the original investigators of the Saeki murders. Again, not a terribly original, scary, or interesting chapter, and just like the Tatsuya segment, it's LONG.



Nobuyuki: Now we're talking - this is the (AFOREMENTIONED) single most memorable sequence in the two direct-to-video films. Nobuyuki is Tatsuya's son, now pensive and withdrawn at school since the death of his father. His classmates are in the process of mocking him when he sees the ghostly form of Kayako outside the school window...and literally ten seconds later, his whole world turns upside down. This segment is less than two minutes long, but it devastates. It also gives us Kayako running after her victim on her hands and knees; it is indeed quite awesome what Fuji can accomplish with her body.

Saori: Again, very brief, but effective. The two families from these original films now dead and gone, some teenagers have taken it upon themselves - perhaps via a dare - to enter the house. And then the screaming starts...

All in all, not a bad batch of stories. What drags the rating down is the fact that the slow-burning entries just really don't burn all that much; meanwhile, the VERY BRIEF segments stick out in your mind long after hitting the EJECT button on your DVD player.

So closes the non-theatrical portion of the Japanese "Ju-On" series. Despite the second film's shortcomings, both in the scare factor and in runtime, it's easy to see why these things gained such a large fan following. The first Japanese theatrical film, which would be released about three years after this particular film aired on TV, boasted a built-in audience that had hotly anticipated seeing Kayako, Toshio, and the trademark creepiness of Shimizu's writing and directing style for years. Also, this film is pre-packaged with the first film in a "two-movies-on-one-DVD" combo pack (or at least that's what I personally own), so you won't be going out of your way to watch the new stories in this one. It's already there.

The Rage and Fury Omnibus, Part I - "Ju-On: The Curse" (2000)

JU-ON: A curse of one who dies with strong resentment. Accumulates in the place where the dead were while alive, and turns into "karma." He who comes in contact with the curse loses his life, and a new curse is born.

You know, I still remember the night that I saw my first "Ju-On" film. Believe it or not, it was only a (comparatively) short time ago - the summer of 2008, to be exact. I'd just discovered this different, vast, heavily populated by female ghost genre called J-horror, and two of the first movies that got my Amazon buy were "Ju-On: The Grudge," Parts 1 and 2. Of course, back then, I had no idea that these movies were actually the THIRD and FOURTH movies in a franchise; all I knew was that I'd half-watched "The Grudge" a few years ago, and that this was the original version. I paid exactly $8.19 for those two films, shipping included.

I popped the DVD in sometime around 1:00 in the morning. Normally, I'd give new horror movies 75% of my attention; the remainder of my brain was occupied with either internet surfing or this crusty, ancient Casino game on my laptop (that still gets heavy use to this day). That night, however, the computer didn't even get a look; from the moment the movie started, I knew I was watching something special. The characters leapt right out of the screen; virtually nothing about them is known with the exception of what is shown. The movie ticks by in a series of "Chapters," the character-names serving as de facto short stories, their names spelled out for us like an obituary. This was one of the DARKEST movies I'd ever seen, but strangely enough, its bleakness was refreshing. Engrossing, even. Of course, it also doesn't hurt when you've got the coolest villain to come along since Freddy Krueger, but you get the gist of this story by now. "Ju-On: The Grudge" instantly became one of my favorite movies, and I spent the better part of the next two months seeking out all of the other films, both Japanese and American. I'm still not bored with them. Those two movies that I bought for the price of a Perkins Supreme Burger have gotten constant airplay in my DVD player, keeping me interested in active watching sessions, lulling me to sleep like a comforting blanket during the night.

Which brings me to this film - "Ju-On: The Curse." THIS is where it all began, ladies and gents. A micro-budgeted film shot on digital video for Japanese television, based on two popular segments from a Japanese horror anthology TV series. These segments were shot by a young wunderkind named Takashi Shimizu, himself a student of J-horror great Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Shimizu's style is distinct; rather than tell long stories, he splits his "Ju-On" films (and to a lesser extent the American "Grudge" films) into interconnected segments, all connected to a house that equals death and two ghosts who spell vengeance. As can be expected of a franchise that now totals nine films, the flick was infinitely popular on Japanese TV, garnering fantastic word-of-mouth for its acting, truly brutal ghosts, and one-of-a-kind villains. As a movie, "Ju-On: The Curse" is damn near perfect. This movie is SLOOOWWWW BURNNNN, baby. The tension builds and builds and builds through many of the segments, FINALLY releasing it in the moments before the screen goes black and the next doomed character is introduced. In short, this movie is a damn fun time.

THE MOVIE!!

Explaining the plot of a "Ju-On" film is a challenging experiment. In short, the movie isn't focused in the slightest on plot. The formula is in place for the rest of the series, though, in this first entry: introduce a character, show character in peril, kill character, usually with a phenomenally well-executed jump scare. The first story is focused on a teacher named Kobayashi - nice young man, all things considered, and played very well by Yurei Yanagi of "Ringu." Kobayashi has a very pregnant wife and a deep concern - one of his students, Toshio Saeki, hasn't been to school in over a week. And so Kobayashi makes the fateful journey to the house...

See, there's a house in Tokyo that nobody should EVER go into. This film shows two unfortunate families that have the AMAZINGLY bad luck of moving into the house, and through its interconnected stories, virtually EVERYONE connected to the house...police officers, family members, friends...winds up dead. This house is what the title of the movie is all about -Ju-On, the powerful pall of people who die in violent circumstances, often with rage in their hearts.

There indeed seems to be a lot of rage present in this movie. "Ju-On" is very much a J-horror movie, with ghosts as villains and a decidedly non-gory tone, but this is something like the slasher movie of J-horror ghost films. We get many characters in this movie, and a lot of them are teenagers. Even better, most of them are attractive females, just like the countless '80s slasher films with masked killers. The most striking death in the entire film is the first true onscreen murder of young Yuki (Hitomi Miwa). Finding herself alone in the house after being called over to tutor, she walks out into one of the creepy upstairs hallways only to find it completely dark, and suffocatingly alone. She is chased by a cat into a closet where a hole in the ceiling is present. Yuki investigates the hole, only to come face-to-face with a yet-unknown white-faced woman...and then we hear the croak for the first time. Awesome stuff in a movie full of it. In addition to that death, there's the infamous "ripped off jaw" sequence that the 2004 American remake cribbed, and the girlfriend of one of the house's inhabitants (Chiaki Kuriyama, Go-Go of "Kill Bill" fame) meeting a sinister kid who bears a striking resemblance to Toshio.

All of these bizarre crimes come together in the "Kayako" segment of the film, which also gives us the climax of Kobayashi's story. You see, Kobayashi knew Kayako (played by Takako Fuji, who absolutely DEVASTATES in this role, making this character just as much her own as Robert Englund did with Krueger) in college, and now she just so happens to be Toshio's mother. Finding the house empty except for Toshio, Kobayashi makes his way upstairs and finds a journal that answers all of his questions. Kayako is unhappily married, in love with Kobayashi to the point of delirium - even to the point of stalking. Mere hours before his arrival at the house, her husband Takeo (Takashi Matsuyama) - a violent, jealous man - found the journal, and brutally murdererd her, slicing Kayako's throat. As it turns out, Toshio himself is a ghost as well, inviting Kobayashi into the game to give Kayako's story a sense of closure. The mother-and-son duo are the villains of this film - one a powerful Onryo ghost, the other a playful and sinister child of death. It is shown that Kayako actually claimed Takeo as her first victim, and all the other poor souls in this film are flies to this pair.

While the story (which probably isn't explained very well) of "Ju-On: The Curse" is interesting and involving, make no mistake, this is a movie that works because of its villains. In creating the characters of Kayako and Toshio, Shimizu struck gold that would launch him to superstardom and enough money to buy his own solid gold island. In addition, the casting of Fuji - a veteran theatrical actress and trained contortionist - was a stroke of genius rarely seen in the movie world. In all six films that Fuji would portray the character, she gave the character such an eerie presence, a menace almost completely alien to American movie audiences...the feeling that this person, even in death, wanted to do bad, bad things to people whose only sin was crossing the threshold into her former home. Her trademark death rattle - a kind of "croaking" sound, eerily reminding us of the way she met her death - became the Japanese equivalent of Jason's legendary "Ki ki ki ma ma ma" chant. At any rate, five gold stars for Ms. Fuji and Shimizu's creation of the character.

Amazingly enough, this whole sad, sad affair would only get better as it went on. It would reach peaks and hit a valley, but as the introduction to a legendary curse, "Ju-On" in its original V-cinema form is essential viewing. What it lacks in speed it more than makes up for in its ability to get under your skin and burn itself into your cerebral cortex, likely in the moments when you REALLY don't want those kind of thoughts in your mind...

IHR induction #29: "Tomie" (1999, Ataru Oikawa)

Japanese horror. Say those two words to any self-respecting horror fan, and you're likely to get an emotional reaction - extremely positive or extremely negative, with no middle ground. To be sure, there are plenty of fans on the other side of the fence from yours truly. Google some reviews of J-horror classics, like "Ju-On" and "Ringu," you're likely to find more than a few auteurs who are very fond of words like "slow" and "plodding." To them, the deliberate and sure-handed pace of Japanese horror films is viewed as the cinematic equivalent of the Bubonic plague. It seems that we, as American movie watchers, are accustomed to the Michael Bay school of film - namely, there better be something flashy or loud happening, and it better be happening RIGHT DAMN NOW. As such, these reviews reflect that expectation.

As you can no doubt ascertain, I fit into the former camp. Joe Bob Briggs was the driving force that introduced me to horror films, meaning that I watched a lot of slasher and monster movies as a teenager. And yeah, those are all well and good for about ten years...but after that, I wanted something more. Something DIFFERENT. Japanese horror movies are extremely different from those in the great, grand US of A. For starters, many of the best-known villains in J-horror are FEMALE, which is something extremely rare in and of itself in American movies. The concept of the "Onryo ghost" is one with a long folkloric tradition in Japan, much like the urban legend is here in the States that gave rise to the masked killer and the teenage slasher film. More than anything else, however, Japanese horror films are much more inclined to focus on the creation of MOOD. You might not get the money shots that you get in a U.S. horror film, but you will most definitely wind up with some stuff that gets you conjuring up things in your own subconscious that creeps you the f**k out.

Put simply, I enjoy American and Japanese horror films equally...but if you're like I was three years ago, a hardcore slasher and serial killer movie fan who was looking for something, ANYTHING different to break me out of the nonstop parade of fornicating teens and artfully-created gore scenes, give Japanese horror a shot. The focus on character, leisurely pace, and emotional resonance should be the breath of fresh air that you need. And while there are movies from the land of the rising sun that I enjoy more than "Tomie," this is a movie that serves as a good introduction to the genre of J-horror, with the title character serving as one of the "unholy trinity" of female Japanese horror villains, along with Sadako Yamamura of "Ringu" fame and Kayako Saeki of the "Ju-On" films.

Tomie Kawakami is a very beloved character in the Pacific Rim. It was introduced by writer Junji Ito in an insanely popular series of Manga comic books all focused around one theme - a title character who cannot die. In Tomie, Ito struck gold. It is never spelled out exactly for us just WHAT Tomie is. All we know is the reaction that she inspires in those around her. Every male she comes across falls in love with the beautiful vixen, while every female becomes pathologically jealous of her. Invariably, those around her begin a very disturbing trend - murdering the girl of their dreams/source of their envy, only, like the proverbial cat who came back the very next day, Tomie soon regenerates and resurfaces in the person's life, slowly driving them insane. This notion of a girl who could not die really struck a chord, and with kids in Tokyo lapping this s**t up, it seemed like only a matter of time before this strange mix of a seductress and demon made its way to the big screen.

"Tomie" is the first film in a LONG series, although, much like Takashi Shimizu's benchmark "Ju-On/Grudge" series, we've gotten absolutely peppered with a bevy of films in a short span of time (eight films in eight years). Although unlike Takako Fuji's dynasty playing Kayako, we've had a different actress playing Tomie in each and every film. The series goes through some definitive peaks and valleys, and Takashi "Everything I Touch Turns to Gold" Shimizu himself directing one of the sequels. Despite Shimizu-san's "Tomie: Re-birth" being technically the best film of the bunch, my heart stays with the original movie. It's got the best balance between creepy, realistic stuff, and flat out-there fantasy, and remains the definitive Tomie film.

This movie follows Tsukiko (Mami Nakamura), a young student with amnesia. While she is living a normal life in the present day with her live-in boyfriend, her entire life from her high school graduation backward is a blank. Tsukiko is attempting to reclaim the memories with the help of her psychologist, who, in a GREAT early scene, is grilled by a fierce, hot-tempered Detective (Tomorowo Taguchi) who tells the psychiatrist about countless deaths linked to the name "Tomie Kawakami." Of course, since "Tomie" is the name of this movie, we can guess that Tsukiko's amnesia is linked to Tomie in some way, which is only confounded by some of the other strangeness going on within this story.

Like the strange man who has just moved in below Tsukiko. Carrying a box, and looking like a goddamned serial killer, this guy instantly creeps us out from the moment we see him. Whatever is inside that box is something truly monstrous, as we see him feeding it bugs, talking to it as if it is a human being, and being...entirely too nurturing of the godforsaken devil box. What's inside, of course, is the head of Tomie Kawakami, the victim of apartment renter from hell, who is now nursing his beloved Tomie back to health. And she has already begun to regenerate her body. As it turns out, the location of the apartment isn't an accident, either...

As you can see from those above two paragraphs, there are a lot of subplots in "Tomie." Director Ataru Oikawa pays each one with the respect it deserves, as we see the Detective's obsessive search for Tomie that may belie some kind of death wish, the philandering adventures of Tsukiko's cheating boyfriend, the regeneration of Tomie - who, by the way, is masterfully played in this first go-round by Miho Kanno, and ranks as the second best Tomie in the entire series behind Miki Sakai's version of the character in "Tomie: Re-birth" - and her seduction of the aforementioned cheating boyfriend, and the recovery of Tsukiko's memories. Tsukiko's back story with Tomie is saved as the final revelation of the movie, in a long, drawn-out monologue delivered from Kanno to Nakamura, and it's in this scene where Kanno earns her keep as "one of the two best Tomies." She may be a soul stripper, she may be a demon, but dammit, we feel sorry for her that her friends betray her and kill her. As such, the final twenty minutes of "Tomie" are some very electric stuff; there's some good gore, a few timely surprises, and an EXTREMELY disquieting scene where the headless body of Tomie exits its grave and eerily walks toward Tsukiko, who was in the act of burying her former friend.

Reading this review, you've probably decided if "Tomie" is for you or not. To be sure, this ain't a horror movie for everybody. You won't find much in the way of out-there murder set pieces, fornicating teens (although there is some nudity; Tsukiko has a hot model friend who serves as one of Cheating Boyfriend's conquests, and she is SSSSSMOKIN') or by-the-numbers plot. If you're like me, however, and appreciate a good, solid build to every character, an attention to the importance of dialogue in advancing a story, and the craft of building a mystique and mysticism to a main villain character before it FINALLY makes its unexpurgated appearance, you won't be disappointed by "Tomie." In fact, you might even be tempted to seek out the rest of the series on Amazon.com, where a box set of the first five films is readily available for the price of a McDonald's value meal.

One final word - in a day and age in which we J-horror fans immediately have the sinking feeling that ANY film we enjoy from across the Pond is going to be remade here in the States, I believe that this is a movie that is virtually remake-proof. It has absolutely no commercial opportunity here in the States, and movie executives realize that...so rest easy, fellow fans of the original versions of "Shutter" and "A Tale of Two Sisters" who feared the same fate for Ms. Kawakami. It ain't happenin' anytime soon.

IHR induction #28: "Eyes Without a Face" (1962, Georges Franju)

It's entirely likely that you haven't seen this film, and even more likely that you haven't even HEARD of it. For yours truly, this was true up until two years ago. One fateful night, I decided to take in the feature-length documentary on the making of John Carpenter's "Halloween." One bit from that featurette in particularly interesting; I was fascinated when Carpenter related the story of how the faceless, featureless mask of serial killer Michael Myers was inspired by a similar mask from this creepy little French film from 1960 called "Eyes Without a Face." He went on to explain the plot in extremely brief detail, and it sounded very promising. To make a long story short, I tracked down a copy of the DVD and added it to my collection. The decision has not been regretted; this is some good film, and despite its tendency to brood and occasionally drag on (this is a pre-slasher era horror flick, after all), it's got more than a few passages with the uncanny power to unnerve and unseat the audience.

Wow - that's a much shorter introduction than you're all used to. Maybe I'm getting better (read: more user-friendly) at these things.

THE MOVIE!!

"Eyes Without a Face" is, at heart, the story of family values, and the lengths to which a father will go to have the daughter he knows and loves back. The only difference is that this father, Dr. Genessier (Pierre Brasseur) seems to equate appearance with the personality of a human being, a theme that the movie uses as its lynchpin. The first scene we bear witness to is Louise (Alida Valli, in perhaps the movie's best performance) dumping a body in a river, and returning to the spacious (and quite creepy-looking) mansion of Dr. Genessier. According to what we know so far, the body belongs to Christiane Genessier, the good doc's daughter and the victim of a horrible car accident.

The TWIST (M. Night Shyamalan mode) is that Christiane did not die in the car accident; instead, her father has brought her back to the mansion. When we are introduced to her, she is already wearing the mask that will no doubt ingrain itself into your subconscious and haunt your dreams for the remainder of time. Yes, the similarity to Mr. Myers' mask is VERY apparent from the get-go; the look is iconic for a reason, and John Carpenter definitely made the right choice in having the most badass villain in the history of slasherdom use it as his avatar. And in an example of cruel fate, Dr. Genessier now considers his daughter to be a monstrosity, and is using all of his medical and scientific know-how to get his daughter's beautiful face back.

The plot of "Eyes Without a Face" is something that has been seen before, but perhaps never pulled off with as much aplomb as it is here. It's essentially the "Frankenstein" model in reverse; instead of a slightly mad doctor harvesting parts from the dead in order to create a new life, Genessier is having his assistant Louise cruise for life, beautiful human faces and luring them back home in some sick way of "helping out" his daughter. At this level, this movie is some very disturbing stuff; while Brasseur is by no means a great actor, the character takes on the mythos of being a tragic figure. At his heart, he is a good person who loves his daughter and only wants the best for her; on the other hand, he is a megalomanical, and even amoral, psychopath who doesn't care about the lives he destroys in order for his world to be returned to normal. To say nothing about what his daughter thinks of his schemes...

Ah, yes, the schemes. As the movie's story picks up, Louise makes her presence felt. This character is endlessly fascinating to me; as written, she is nothing more than Genessier's assistant, but it's presented in such a way to almost actively encourage debate about the nature of her relationship with Genessier. After all, this is one DEVOTED assistant. She is successful in luring an attractive young woman named Edna (Juliette Mayniel) back to the mansion of doom, at which point Genessier chloroforms her and begins the movie's money scene.

By 1960 standards (which is when this film was released in France - the 1962 release date refers to the subtitled American release), the skin graft scene was both cutting edge and extremely horrific. We see - in pretty graphic detail - Genessier remove the face of Edna and attach it to the burned shell that is Christiane's head, and later get several loving close-ups of the grotesque, faceless Edna. It has been said that John Woo was heavily inspired by this scene, perhaps even copycatting it scene-for-scene in the 1998 action tour-de-force "Face/Off." I definitely prefer the scene as it is shown here; not only is it done to showcase superior makeup effects as it was done in the Nicholas Cage/John Travolta shoot-em-up, it's emotional to the max and disturbing as all hell considering the ramifications that it has on the two subject characters' lives.

Of course, not all goes to plan for the good doctor and his daughter. Christiane's body rejects the new skin, and within days she is back to wearing her mask. While all of the above has been going on, the movie has given us several glimpses of Christiane attempting to reconnect with her life before the horrific accident that left her disfigured, including attempting to call her fiancee twice. It is through this act that the movie reaches its resolution; "Eyes Without a Face" is a tragic story at its heart, but it is also a movie that knows how to give the audience what it wants. The ending portions of this movie won't exactly have you up on your feet cheering, but you will definitely walk away from your television happy at what transpired.

There is a lot to admire about "Eyes Without a Face." Director Georges Franju, filming a version of Jean Redon's novel, gives this sicko story just the right mix of surrealism and chilling reality. While I'm ordinarly not a big proponent of black and white cinema, this is one movie where the lack of color is actually a BIG benefit to the goings-on unfolding before you. The dreamlike nature of black and white blends seamlessly with the trancelike, nightmarish quality of the story. Visually, this is a movie that you won't be forgetting anytime soon...especially that mask.

Now, to speak about the girl behind the mask. Edith Scob is the actress who plays Christiane, and once again putting my own name in a redundant hat full of praise, she does an amazing job. Behind a mask for the vast majority of the movie's running time, Scob nonetheless projects both a sadness and an innocence that makes the movie's final trimester all the more satisfying. The ability to send forth so much emotion is impressive in and of itself; to do so behind total BLANKNESS is even more incredible. While both Dr. Genessier and Louise have more speaking lines, this is the character that the entire movie hinges on. If, for one second, Christiane seems complicit or supportive of her family/captors' actions, the entire movie doesn't work. Scob knows what feelings to convey to the audience, and as such, the movie works marvelously.

While "Eyes Without a Face" sees occasional airplay on late-night TV (I've seen it once on AMC and once on TCM), this is a flick that likely none but the most hardcore horror/thriller aficionados are aware of. Thankfully, it is now more than accessible; the current Criterion DVD release is readily available on Amazon and other online retailers. Good thing, too, because this movie is essential to your horror collection. It's a movie that has the best quality that any film can have - it connects with your emotions - along with stirring performances, excellent direction and, of course, the unforgettable visage of Christiane Genessier.

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.