IHR induction #50: "The Haunting" (1963, Robert Wise)

Recently, there's been something of a "ghost story" boom in the great, grand world of horror. More often than not, it's also been accompanied by the Blair Witch-inspired shaki cam of doom and a gimmicky tag at the beginning that attempts to convince us that everything we're watching is real. Well, once upon a time, it didn't use to be that way - back then [curmudgeonly old man], we had a script, actors, a director, a linear story, and that's the way we liked it, dammit! And to be sure, Robert Wise's 1963 film "The Haunting" is one of the very best haunted house/ghost movies of all time.

You know, going through some of my past reviews, I rarely talk about directors. This is one movie that demands the director be given tons of credit - Wise himself is practically the star of this movie. Shirley Jackson's novel "The Haunting of Hill House" was a book entirely about mood - an ominous, foreboding air very difficult to pull off on film. Shooting in black-and-white and with a crew of respected but relatively unknown actors, Wise accomplished this SPLENDIDLY, shooting at odd angles, giving the camera a voyeuristic eye to its cast, and making the house into a living being. With a fraction of the special effects, Wise turns in a movie that is effectively 10,000 times as a creepy as the slick (and utterly forgettable) 1999 Jan De Bont film of the same name, which also culled from the same source material.

So now, the movie. The main character of sorts is Dr. John Markway (Richard Johnson in a fantastic performance), an anthropologist who chose his profession due to the opportunity it would give him to study ghosts and the supernatural. Since Markway occupies the traditional "somewhat mad scientist" role, we soon meet his guinea pigs in this particular experiment: prototypical nice girl Eleanor Lance (Julie Harris), who also provides a steady narration for the film; bisexual Theodora (Claire Bloom, who, to use one of my favorite overused words, is ACES in the role), who has slightly more than friendly designs on Eleanor; and playboy Luke Sanderson (Russ Tamblyn). Dr. Markway seems to give others that these people are colleagues; in reality, they're an experiment.

"The Haunting" was one of the first movies to truly feature the science of ghost phenomena (at least as best as the phenomena was known at the time of its release), and the film gives us plenty of happenings throughout its running time. Banging doors, voices, cold spots and the like are all given the royal theatrical treatment. For a movie damn near 50 years old, it's true that this movie won't leave you pissing yourself in terror; plenty of stuff that was terrifying to audiences back in the day are merely ho-hum to audiences of today used to the over-the-top gore and grue of Jigsaw. If you're like me, however, and like to place yourself in the situations of horror movie protagonists, you'll find plenty to like here with its slow burning build and interesting characters.

Which brings me to yet another example of something I've been harping on recently - this is definitely a movie that is superior to its source novel. Jackson's novel is full of woebegotten dialogue and has what is, in my humble opinion, a very unsatisfying conclusion. While the Nelson Gidding screenplay also has somewhat suspect spoken word at times, it's toned down and delivered in shorter bursts. The central arc that the Eleanor character goes through - both repulsed and flattered at the attention she gets from not only Theodora, but also the ghosts in the house - is played out to perfection, serving as a fascinating undercurrent to the ghost action. This dynamic, interestingly enough, wasn't a factor in the novel. Lastly, the climax that the movie builds to is INFINITELY stronger than the very weak denounment that Jackson gives us. In fact, I'll go even further - it's "Twilight Zone" worthy. Awesome, awesome stuff.

More than being a movie about spectacular ghost scenes or blood, "The Haunting" is really the classic "less is more" approach applied to the nth degree. Introduce characters, get the audience to care about them, pay it off. As such, it's a movie that MANY screenwriters and directors of today could learn from, and one that is still discussed today in horror circles as one of the very finest that the genre has ever had to offer. If you haven't already, and ESPECIALLY if you've seen the Liam Neeson/Lili Taylor/Catherine Zeta-Jones version, give this movie a watch, because it's Ghost Story 101.

IHR induction #49: "It" (1990, Tommy Lee Wallace)

BEEP, BEEP, RICHIE!

You know, I don't think there's a person in my age bracket who hasn't seen the TV miniseries version of Stephen King's "It." Its 1990 premiere was a major, major deal that EVERYONE in my first grade class was talking about. Yeah, all of us were way too young to even THINK about picking up the mammoth 1,000+ page novel that the movie was based on, but damn near all of us knew who Stephen King was - the guy who delivered all the scary stuff that we were banned from watching. Somehow or another, a large percentage of the people in that AFOREMENTIONED first grade class found their way to a hidden TV on those two 1990 nights.

A bit of background information first before we get to the meat of the story. The novel "It" was released in 1986, during the absolute peak of Stephen King's collectibility and popularity. It was the longest novel he had ever sent forth to the public (until being surpassed by the uncut version of The Stand five years later), and based on the critical blurbs and the overwhelming fan response, It is most definitely some book. Taking place over two separate time frames and encompassing a large set of very likable, very distinct hero characters going up against an ultimate evil force, it's damn near horror perfection.

The miniseries was both a critical and financial success, pulling in mammoth ratings and massive residuals to this day. Hell, it still shows up on ABC Family (of all channels) once in a while. Most importantly, it scared the living daylights out of me back then and still has scenes that me and a loyal group of acquaintances quote to this day.

"It" is the story of the town of Derry, Maine, and the very, very bad things that lurk in its underbelly. The flick starts with the death of a little girl at the hands of a creepy clown, prompting Mike Hanlon (Tim Reid) to call six seemingly random people across the United States with a mere two-word message: "It's back."

The more engaging material in the film occurs in background segments that give us the childhoods of these characters, and explain the meaning of the phone calls. This section (which interweaves with the present-day 1990 story) takes place 30 years earlier, and we meet our kid protagonists. Nice guy Bill Denbrough (Jonathan Brandis, played in present-day form by John Boy Walton himself), sensitive, chubby Ben "Haystack" Hanscom (young version: Brandon Crane, older version: John freakin' Ritter), practical joker Richie Tozier (young version: Seth Green, older version: Harry Anderson), cute girl with an abusive father Beverly Marsh (young version: Emily Perkins, older version: Annette O'Toole), and hypochondriac Eddie Kaspbrak (young version: Adam Fairazl, older version: Dennis Christopher) are all recognizable, distinct, and likable people who instantly form a connection with the audience. Their situation is all the more relatable, as the group forms a unit called, appropriately enough, "the Losers' Club," as victims of a group of bully greasers led by the very dick-ish Henry Bowers (Jarred Blancard, who plays the young version, is extraordinary as this dislikable prick).

Across both timelines, the storyline is essentially the same - murders are happening at an alarming rate, and when the mysterious deaths - always accompanied by a grinning, horrifying clown who calls himself Pennywise - begin threatening the Losers' club, the group bands together to face the ancient evil entity on its own grounds. After succeeding in 1960, Bill - the leader of the group - makes the other members promise that if It ever comes back, they will return to Derry and destroy the force once and for all. Hence the phone calls.

There's your story, folks. But the thing that makes "It" hit home is its villain. Tim Curry takes the duties of playing Pennywise, and in an Internet world where all-encompassing blanket statements are the norm, nobody will ever be able to top him. He's scary, yeah, but he's also funny and memorable. It's hard to find fault with the guy who played both Dr. Frank-N-Further and Mr. Boddy, but this guy's awesomeness is practically universal. Every scene that Pennywise appears is a home run, and he scared the ever living CRAP out of me as a kid watching the mayhem unfold on ABC.

Which brings me to Point B regarding this whole manifesto - we're getting a remake of "Carrie." One that will be "truer to the novel" than the original Brian De Palma film, despite the fact that almost everyone agrees that the 1976 film is FINE the way it is, changes and all. We're also getting another re-adaptation of "It" at some point. I don't know if it promises to be "truer to the novel," but the changes that this film made from the novel were ALL for the better. If you want an example, the novel contains a completely out-of-nowhere orgy scene between the child versions of the main characters. No, I'm not joking. Google it.

And perhaps the most important reason why another version of "It" would suck - if done today, the "past" segments of the film would take place in 1981. I have nothing against 1981, but that's just depressing.

So there we have it. While lacking the polish of a big-budget theatrical film, the miniseries version of "It" is an awesome movie, with likable characters, a menacing villain, and a nice, evenly-balanced flowing narrative serving as the lynchpin of the action. Par for the course with a lot of IHR inductions, it's also a movie with strong sentimental value for this writer, and remains one of the better Stephen King adaptations out there.

Oh, and one more thing...

Beep beep, indeed.

IHR induction #48: "Maximum Overdrive" (1986, Stephen King)

Way back in the early '80s, when Dino De Laurentiis offered his personal services to Stephen King to produce his movies in a "quality" way, he had the best of intentions. Really, he did. It started off promising enough, with "The Dead Zone" as a bona fide classic and a minor box office success. Then came "Firestarter," a major box office failure...followed by "Cat's Eye," an even bigger box office failure...then "Silver Bullet"...and eventually the movie that we're talking about here today. The only movie ever to be directed by the man, the midth, the legend, Steve-O himself, and also one of only two feature films to have all of its music done by AC/DC. And really, it's the only one to have that distinction in my book, since that cash grab "Iron Man 2" soundtrack contained exactly TWO songs that were heard in the movie and a bunch of filler grabbed from their catalog.

To be fair, I've done by fair share of bitching about this movie in the past. And to be fair, it's far from the "masterpiece" that oh-so-handy movie poster informs us that it is. We'll be getting to that later. The important thing about this film, though, is that it holds a lot of nostalgic value, not only for yours truly but for a lot in my age bracket. It was played ad nauseum on the Turner networks in the early-to-mid-'90s, including a couple presentations on MonsterVision, and has become one of the semi-talked-about "cult classics" of my generation. Two, it's also the only movie to have its entire freakin' score done by AC/DC. A better ringing endorsement there cannot be.

* THE MOVIE *

Well, one of the very first things we see in this movie is the image above - Steve-O in a cameo role as a would-be ATM machine user, who promptly gets called an "asshole" by said machine followed by "Who Made Who" thumping on the soundtrack. Alright, we're off to a rocking start. Immediately afterward, we're treated to a pretty impressive sequence, as a bridge unexpectedly rises during the height of rush hour traffic, causing a multi-car pileup, death, destruction, and general chicanery. It should also be noted that this scene features Marla Maples getting killed by flying watermelons, which was oh-so-diligently pointed out to me by Joe Bob back in the day. All in all, quite the intro sequence, I must say.

Cut to the Dixie Boy truck stop, main location for the Romero-esque action that ensues. There's a whole cast of cutups here, most notably Bill Robinson (EMILIO!!! Estevez), an ex-con turned truck stop restaurant worker. Bill is at odds with his prickish boss Bubba Hendershot (Pat Hingle), who for some reason refers to everyone else as "Bubba," despite the fact that this is his own name.

Well, it isn't long before this sweeping character development grinds to a halt and the machine-related incidents begins piling up. An electric carving knife takes on a life of its own and slices one of the Dixie Boy waitresses, a video game electrocutes a greedy patron, and a steamroller goes crazy on a Little League baseball field. It seems that machines have taken on a life of their own all across the globe, gaining not only life but a decidedly anti-human disposition. In the short story "Trucks" upon which this movie is based (located in the anthology collection "Night Shift" for anyone who wants to track down the source material), it's semi-trucks and semi-trucks alone that get the magical come-alive treatment, but this movie's decision to make it EVERY worldly electronic doodad was a good one, giving us all sorts of additional tension what with the soda machines, lawnmowers and other motorized devices running people down.

There you have it - "Maximum Overdrive," boiled down to its simplest forms, is essentially Night of the Living Dead with trucks as the main threat and a host of little threats, a tale of misplaced survivors paired up against an almost unbeatable force. Fairly basic premise, but it's pulled off with reasonable success. For starters, it helps that the movie has a pretty decent lead villain in the legendary Green Goblin-headed truck seen above. Pretty much everyone in my age bracket, at one point, thought that the "Happy Toyz" truck was badass personified. It also seems to have some sort of weird telepathic control over the other trucks, with its eyes glowing bright red whenever it wishes to communicate. It also serves as the primary negotiator/bringer of death to the humans in the film. ***** for "Maximum Overdrive" Green Goblin truck.

In addition to that, the music in this film works very well. As AFOREMENTIONED, not only the background songs but the freakin' SCORE are provided by AC/DC, and while this sounds like it would get old fast, it works really well. It helps when the band is as cool as AC/DC and you have universally loved songs like "You Shook Me All Night Long" and "Hells Bells" to work with, but even the "pad" music is done very well, along with a "Psycho"-style guitar chord that will crop up in your mind at all the wrong moments and remind you of the scene where a hick gas station attendant gets an eyeful of gasoline from a vengeful pump.

That's what works in the film. Unfortunately, there's a lot of stuff that doesn't. Namely, the characters. Estevez was definitely game for the role of Bill Robinson as written, but there's rarely been a "hero character" less heroic than Bill. For most of the film, he does absolutely nothing, a trait that goes for most of the characters. We're given almost no reason to believe that the bad guys are beatable, until the script throws together some ragtag useless crap to "win" in the final ten minutes.

And the "love story" in this film...whoo boy. OK, kids, here's the summary: one of the survivor group is a hitchhiker named Brett (Laura Harrington), who rode into the Dixie Boy with a slimy Bible salesmen. Just because the script calls for it, Brett immediately takes a liking to Bill, and after a couple "flirting" scenes accompanied by what is really a very nice piece of background music by Angus & Malcolm, we get this ridiculous kissing scene that almost kills the movie halfway through. So big strike against the movie there.

But you know what? Forget all that. It goes without saying that, technically speaking, this is a pretty bad movie. As an experience, though, it's loads of fun. There's plenty of exploding trucks and decent kills to ensure that you won't be bored. Watching this flick in a crowd setting is always a treat (and I can speak from experience); there's plenty to laugh at, not the least of which is one of the characters screaming "WE MADE YOUUUUUU!!!!!!" at the circling gargantuans before getting shot in the chest by an Army gunner vehicle, Hingle's mystical weapons stash that he oh-so-conveniently keeps in his basement, the gas station assistant's flatulence during a toilet scene, and Lisa Simpson herself asking her new husband "ARE YOU DEEEEAAADDDD???" If you're looking for unintentional laughter, there are few movies better.

Which brings me to the whole point of this manifesto. Movies can be enjoyable in different ways. Sometimes, it's admittedly hard for me to enjoy critically acclaimed, heady, introspective films that are inherently challenging. Sometimes, I just want to be an idiot. If you're looking to turn your brain off, enjoy a fun roller coaster ride and go back to a time when it was perfectly acceptable to watch an unmanned steam roller flatten an unsuspecting CHILD (very hard to see this one getting by the MPAA today), this is one of the best fixes you can ask for. Especially since, as we speak, a remake is in talks (and this doesn't include the crappy 1997 TV movie "Trucks," which I'm well aware of), one that almost surely will be more professionally polished and nowhere near as much fun.

IHR induction #47: "Citizen X" (1995, Chris Gerolmo)

Apart from the horror genre, the "serial killer" film is practically a genre unto itself. In the two decades since Anthony Hopkins slithered his way into our hearts as the lovable Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter, there have been scores of imitations/ripoffs depicting multiple murderers as quasi-heroes and/or inherently much more creative than your typical deviant psychopath. John Doe and Jigsaw are the two names that spring immediately to mind; heady, intelligent men who kill not because the addiction that real-life serial killers have, but rather because of some moral stance or revenge.

Of course, as facts go (and this is coming from somebody who has done quite a bit of research on the subject), this quite literally COMPLETELY untrue and unrepresentative. Most serial killers are of above average intelligence, not the genius level required to pull off some of the crazy contraptions that Tobin Bell rigs up in the Saw series. In addition to that, their motivation for killing is often sex-based; the compulsion burns inside during a "heating up" period as the individual begins fantasizing and dreaming about their next victim, eventually being overcome by the desire and exploding in a fury of violence. This is most definitely the profile for one Mr. Andrei Chikatilo, a.k.a. "The Rostov Ripper" and the focus of the film "Citizen X." In the annals of high crime, Chikatilo's acts - which included not only mass murder, but cannibalism and pedophilia - rank right up there with the luminaries (and if you ever want to really creep yourself out, google the name "Albert Fish").

This is definitely not a movie for everybody. The reason? This is one of the most FRUSTRATING and downright difficult films you're ever likely to see, and not in the "Saw" torture porn "OMG is this really happening?" way, but because of its ability to endear its characters to the viewer and truly make the audience feel for their plight. Due to circumstance, they are unable to do this for the vast duration of the movie. More on that later.

Flash back to the early '80s. Setting: Soviet Russia. A farmer is plowing his fields when he spots the image that you're seeing above staring back up at him. The body in question winds up in the possession of Victor Burakov (Stephen Rea, in one of my favorite performances ever - he is infinitely likable in this role, and is fantastic in dialing up the emotion and desperation that the part requires), the region's forensics investigator. On his command, several of his assistants comb the nearby forest for further evidence, and much to everyone's shock return to the morgue with seven more dead bodies - all of them children.

Word of warning - "Citizen X" is a slight message movie, although I don't think it will offend the sensibilities of anyone reading this review or watching the movie. It becomes apparent very early on that Burakov is not in for an easy investigation. Every one of his recommendations for the case are flat-out denied by the Soviet government, and the reason for this is because, according to strict Communist doctrine, serial murder is strictly a result of Western decadence and is impossible in a people's paradise. Time and time again throughout the course of the film (and throughout EIGHT YEARS in real-life, kids), Rea shows up before his superiors, begging for more manpower, more funds, more technology, and time and time again he is told that he is chasing a man who doesn't exist. All the while, the bodies continue to pile up...

While the movie is about the acts of Andrei Chikatilo, it's the investigators who really take top billing in "Citizen X." Still, the role of Chikatilo was absolutely crucial; some of his murders are shown in intimate detail, from the planning stage to the act of snaring an unsuspecting child to the actual act of killing, and the entire film hinges on having the correct individual play this psychopath. Jeffrey DeMunn, a character actor known as one of Frank Darabont's favorites and a horror veteran, devastates as the guy causing the immense headache for the Soviet bureaucracy. In fact, DeMunn does such a good job in the role that at times we feel sympathy for him; he is shown in some of his quieter life moments - through DeMunn's mannerisms and facial expressions, we can sense what a weak and troubled person he is. Then, in the next scene, he is cannibalizing a young girl. This is some movie, I tell ya.

Finally, on the character front, Donald Sutherland appears in an award-winning performance as Colonel Fetisov, a high-ranking member of the military who is concerned only with his standing in the Party at the beginning of the film. The film's true power "Citizen X" lies in the development of the relationship between Rea and Sutherland. As the years tick by, Fetisov undergoes a transformation, going from one of the staunchest critics of the investigation of the murders into the person who stands up most for Victor Burakov's pleas for more aid. It also doesn't hurt that the two actors have amazing chemistry together - every scene they share is a sight to behold.

As a movie that made its way into the public spotlight via HBO, this is a flick that is rarely talked about when the great serial killer and/or horror movies are discussed. Make no bones, this is a film that deserves to be in the conversation. You'll rarely see a movie with actors as perfectly matched to their counterparts (nonfictional as they are), with a script as underivative, and with a true-life story so brutally and honestly told. It's got more than its fair share of blood and guts to sate any horror fan, but "Citizen X" isn't a movie for the gore hound crowd. It will make you think, it will frustrate the hell out of you at times, and it will make you feel uneasy...but you won't be bored. Not by a long shot.

IHR induction #46: "Return of the Living Dead" (1985, Dan O'Bannon)

First things first - everybody already knows how I feel about zombie movies, and I won't torture you with the manifesto again. f***, I'm sick of TYPING it, so God only knows how all of you feel.

Secondly, this flick is YET ANOTHER piece of horror history that I saw for the first time on Joe Bob Briggs' MonsterVision. Man, what an awesome show that was. The Saturday night ritual that introduced me to "Carrie," "Maximum Overdrive," the insanely long director's cut version of "Needful Things," and Oliver Stone's magnum opus "The Hand." And that...is some lineup, I tell ya.

[/personal nostalgia]

"Return of the Living Dead" is a pretty highly heralded piece of work in the horror community, holding a lofty ranking in both the zombie and horror comedy subgenres. It's hard to disagree with all of the praise; when compared to sibling movies featuring undead flesh-eaters, the movie is undoubtedly more funny, more entertaining, and even better WRITTEN (thanks largely to an excellent script by Dan O'Bannon, the guy behind "Alien" and "Lifeforce" who also directed this film) than the vast majority of zombie movies out there in the great fruited plain. In addition to that, it's got a soundtrack largely featuring '80s punk rock and death metal that gives it an unmistakable camp/cult appeal, as well as a couple well-known luminaries of the horror genre as cast members.

THE MOVIE!!

It's the first day on the job for Freddy (Thom Matthews, AFOREMENTIONED horror luminary #1, although he wasn't quite a luminary yet as he wouldn't star in "Friday the 13th Part VI" until the following year, so sue me) on the night shift at a medical supplies warehouse. As they often do, Frank (James Karen), one of the higher-ups at the warehouse, attempts to impress the newbie by showing him some hidden secret thing that said building contains. In this case, it's an actual preserved zombie. In one of those insane movie accidents, said preserved zombie drum releases toxic gas on the two bumbling characters, thus setting in motion the plot of "Return of the Living Dead."

Moving along, the gas resurrects one of the corpses held at the warehouse, causing Frank and Freddy to call in their boss, Burt (Clu Gulager, an icon of '70s television). When discussing methods of killing the reanimated body, they theorize that the best way is to destroy the brain because, after all, "it's how they did it in that movie!" Much to their surprise, it doesn't work - along with seemingly everything else. With nowhere else to turn, they decide to cut the body up into small pieces and take it to the friendly local mortician, Ernie (Don Calfa), who decides to dispose of the remains by putting them in his cremation device. Well, wouldn't you know, the smoke causes an acid rain storm that has a decidedly nasty effect on the bodies buried in the nearby graveyard...

Periodically throughout these introductory segments, we've been shown glimpses of the everyday life of a group of very punkish looking kids. Presently, these guys are hanging out in the cemetery, where the group's token sluttish girl Trash (played by Linnea Quigley, and if you don't know who she is...what's wrong with you??!) tells us about her nightmares involving getting eaten by wrinkley old men before stripping naked and dancing among the gravestones. It's just as epic seeing it in person, believe me. As per expected, this is the point that the ROTLD brand of zombies make their resurrection, immediately killing Trash and scaring the holy hell out of the remaining street punks, who make their way across the street to the mortuary.

Just before the kids arrive, Ernie decides to call an ambulance for Freddy and Frank, both of whom are beginning to exhibit some decidedly strange traits due to their exposure to the drum's chemical. When the paramedics arrive, what they find is quite unnerving - both men have no pulse, no vital signs. By all accounts, they are dead. The paramedics go out to their ambulance to grab some supplies, only to be ambushed by the zombie army and killed. One of the zombies grabs the ambulance radio and informs whoever is on the other line to "send more paramedics."

This would be your classic "survivors holed in against the undead" portion that almost every zombie movie proudly features, and I must admit that this is the section of the film that truly shines and creates a unique atmosphere that holds true for the remainder of the running time. Mixing genuine tension with the black comedy that the movie had been employing sporadically, the movie becomes hard to turn away from. What's more, it's even a little sad, as Freddy's girlfriend Tina (Beverly Randolph) comes into the fold. How dedicated of a girlfriend is she? This chick actually lets her zombified boyfriend eat her brain, due only to the fact that he was nice enough to ask. Now that is some girlfriend.

I'm really not doing the movie justice with this review - it's true glory lies in a lot of the mannerisms of the characters, as well as the true dark nature of its humor. Both of which, along with many other things, are extremely entertaining in abundance here. This is one of the most downright FUN horror movies you'll ever see, featuring a cast of actors who truly give it their damndest (particularly Karen, who was nominated for a Saturn award for his portrayal of Frank) along with inspired writing and directing work from O'Bannon. As one of horror's great ones who had previously been the creative guy behind some very big movies, "Return of the Living Dead" was Dan O'Bannon's first shot at directing a feature film, and he made the most of the opportunity. His surprising touch for writing not only good horror but good comedy is the driving force that makes this movie infinitely memorable, and he is definitely missed in the great, grand genre of horror. At any rate, he's definitely created a bona fide modern classic which all of you need to check out (if you haven't already).

Final word - as much as I enjoy this film, I actually prefer the sequel, "Return of the Living Dead Part II," which ratchets up the humor aspect to the point of being damn near parody. However, seemingly everyone else on the planet disagrees with me on this ranking, hence why this movie is inducted here today.

IHR induction #45: "A Tale of Two Sisters" (2003, Kim Ji-woon)

It may be hard to believe, but the guy typing these words has an everyday life. It may not be much of one, but it exists, I assure you. It's always a nonstop 24-hour cycle of booze, sex, and rock and roll...okay, that's a total lie. But in the time that I've spent on the midnight-eight factory shift, I've let it slip a few times just what my daily routine is AWAY from said midnight-eight factory shift. Namely, a few hours of computer cruising, followed by my daily ritual of falling asleep with horror movies on in the background. Pretty much everyone that I've ever told that to looks at me like I'm a goddamn serial killer...so judge away.

Anyway, while a lot of the movies in my moderate-sized horror collection have popped through the ol' DVD player at some point or another in my dalliances with the nocturnal lifestyle, there's a few that, for some reason or another, just don't lend themselves to early-afternoon-falling-asleep-whore digestion. Like this one right here. "A Tale of Two Sisters" is really a hard movie to watch, as well as review - not because it's especially violent or disgusting (it isn't), or not because it's a creepy, scary film (it is), but because it's a movie that's viewed best when given your full attention as opposed to fighting increasingly heavy eyelids.

First, a bit of background information. "A Tale of Two Sisters" is a Korean film, and a pretty damn important one historically speaking. For starters, it's based on a Korean folktale that's pretty well-known to pretty much everyone who saw the film in its original incarnation. As such, it was a highly publicized movie in Korea; it eventually became the highest-grossing horror movie in the country's cinematic history, and also became the first Korean horror film to be screened in American movie houses. As such, it - like a lot of awesome J and K-horror epics - was given the remake treatment. In 2009, to be exact, as "The Uninvited," starring the pretty ugly chick from "Grudge 2" and the upskirt machine from "Sucker Punch." And before anyone asks, no, I haven't seen the remake and have no plans on doing so.

[/slightly more annoying introduction than usual]

THE MOVIE!!

As already mentioned (I suppose one could say that it was AFOREMENTIONED), this is a flick that demands your full attention. Generally speaking, movies that exist outside the viewer's natural language require more attention anyway due to the effort of reading dialogue while also keeping track of action, but when you take into account that "A Tale of Two Sisters" is a multi-layered film with varying time frames, character iterations and plot shifts, you're in for a mental workout. In the good way, I assure you.

The film is a tragedy, of sorts, and our central characters are, of course, sisters: Su-mi (Im Soo Jung, in a dynamite performance), and her much more shy and reserved sibling Su-yeon (Moon Geun Young). It revolves around a situation that a great many people can relate to, and wastes little time framing the entire movie around this central premise - the sisters are being brought by their father (Kim Cap-su) to home to meet their new stepmother, Eun-joo (Yeom Jeong-ah, who is infinitely hatable in this role). As it so often happens with the situation, the close siblings aren't too fond of their new family member, and as the story progresses, it becomes clear that the feeling is mutual.

In between a few instances of story aspects that "creepy up" the proceedings (including a few nighttime scenes where Su-yeon sees a strange ghost-like figure standing on her bed), this is mostly a film about the inner workings of this family. The fairy tale aspect of the story is definitely apparent, as Eun-joo becomes every bit the "wicked stepmother" that we know and love from various Disney flicks. Her level of cruelty rivals many domestic villains from other movies; she is particularly nasty and abusive toward Su-yeon, verbally castigating her to no end and locking her in a closet. Throughout these early portions of the film, the struggle between Su-mi and Eun-joo is your central conflict, and we have no reason to believe that the movie is going to be anything other than a story about familial squabbles.

Then one revelation comes. Then another, and another, until "A Tale of Two Sisters" becomes a movie where not only is it made abundantly clear that everything is DEFINITELY not as it seems, but somehow, some way, it all unfolds in a logical manner with several very powerful moments where things become clear. Normally, movies made in this manner leave me inherently frustrated; this one, with its endlessly clever screenplay by director Ji-woon, is satisfying and emotional, with the various twists and turns serving as devices with the power to both shock the viewer and to tug on the heartstrings.

Reading this review, some of you may be wondering why "A Tale of Two Sisters" is considered a horror film. Throughout much of the flick's running time, we aren't given anything in the way of a villain, or killing, or any of the usual staples associated with the genre. It matters little. This is a movie entirely about darkness, tragedy and mood, and all three of those things come together with the skillful direction of Kim Ji-woon to form something that's quite unnerving to watch. Sure, there's the deliberate ways that movies attempt to scare audiences (a creepy musical score, for starters), but there are also plot developments that leave the audience empathizing with the two lead girls like few movies are able to, which makes some of the very real events that happen to them all the more horrific.

Parting words: You know, I don't think that a lot of you need to be told that a lot of the movies that have gained the IHR induction are technically not "good" movies. They may be memorable, or important, even revolting - but they're not "good." "A Tale of Two Sisters," by any criteria, is just a damn good film - the acting is top-notch, the direction and screenwriting by its creator is handled with plenty of reverence, and the endless series of surprises that it springs on the captive audience is always a sight to behold. If you're looking for a break from the usual assortment of American slasher films and ghost stories (not that there's anything wrong with those), give this movie a look-see. It's legitimately one of the all-time greats.

IHR induction #44: "Dressed to Kill" (1980, Brian De Palma)

Time for your humble host to share an opinion that's almost completely gutless, since there's plenty of people who feel the same way and even people who disagree almost universally pitch in that it's not far from being truth - I think that Alfred Hitchcock is the single greatest film director...ever. Sure, there's directors who have made it their prime directive to bring home as much Oscar hardware as possible (not looking at you at all, Darren Aronofsky), while Hitch doesn't have any statues in his cupboard ("Rebecca"'s Best Picture award went to the film's producer), his filmography reads like the history of Hollywood - over six decades, there's just very little that the guy did not do, churning out classic after classic and showing an unprecedented, influential flair for shooting his films along the way. More on that later.

It comes as no surprise, then, that there have been plenty of movies that paid direct and/or indirect tribute to Hitchcock. In fact, there are two gentlemen who owe pretty much their entire career on imitating him, both of whom came to prominence in the early '70s. There's Dario Argento, an Italian film-maker who took the mystery aspect of many of the Hitchcock plots and slathered on previously unseen levels of gore to popularize a style of horror movie known as the giallo thriller. And then there's Brian De Palma, the director of several very popular films in the '70s and '80s that feature camera work and themes which were not slightly underivative of the Master's work.

While films that predate it on his filmography (most notably "Sisters," "Carrie" and "The Fury") have some very familiar cinematography tricks, "Dressed to Kill" was De Palma's full-fledged ode to the man who inspired his career, emulating the visual style as well as plot elements and direct scene references from Hitchcock's films. As both an homage and an original work, it's a dynamite movie, unfortunately not as remembered today as it should be, but still held in high circles by horror fans and film scholars alike as a good scary film and a tribute piece.

[/masturbatory introduction]

THE MOVIE!!

First things first, this movie has some cast. Angie Dickinson is the first person we see in this film. Or rather, Angie Dickinson's body double slathering her naked body up with soap, setting in motion the Psycho-like theme connecting sex with death that runs throughout the entire movie. Dickinson portrays a bored housewife who serves as this movie's Janet Leigh; she is given loads of screen time in the early goings of the movie, with the script giving us a lurid episode in her daily life. She visits her psychologist Robert Elliott (played by Michael Caine in one of the finest performances of his distinguished career), going into detail about her sexual frustration. The following scenes pay off the angle, as she is stalked by a man in an art gallery and later gropes him in the back seat of a taxi cab.

So how does the first act of the movie comes to a close? She sneaks out of random stranger's apartment in the dead of night, and is summarily slashed the f*** up in the apartment building's elevator. Oh yeah, spoiler alert.

This scene, by the way, is an absolute masterpiece. It's genuinely unexpected, it's graphic, and it's got that indefinable creepy factor added to as high-priced prostitute Liz (Nancy Allen, in a Golden Globe-nominated performance, and looking quite hot in her young days, I must say) finds herself unwittingly tied to the death. During the murder scene, there's this one particular shot that works very well, as Liz almost - again, I say, agonizingly, ALMOST - enters the elevator, while the killer, plastic face and all, stands above the dead body of Dickinson, perched behind the door, ready to strike at Liz. Awesome stuff, and still one of my favorite scenes in all of horrordom.

An important cog in the plot of "Dressed to Kill" arises in the form of Caine's Dr. Elliott, who earlier had received a threatening phone call from a former patient named "Bobbi" who desired a sex change operation. It seems that said patient is now mightily pissed at Elliot, as the good doctor refused to endorse the operation, resulting in a wannabe transgendered individual with a severe murderous streak for the women in Elliott's life, as well as Liz, the witness to his brutal crime in the elevator.

Up until this point, "Dressed to Kill" didn't have many likable characters, but from this point on, we get several. The movie becomes a very high stakes game of cat and mouse between the killer and a small group of people attempting to track him/her down. Liz becomes the star and the focal point of the character development, but the movie's true heart comes in the form of Peter (Keith Gordon), Dickinson's college-aged son who takes it upon himself to track down the murderer. Liz and Peter join forces due to the police predictably being none too believing of the various accusations that this smart-mouthed hooker is making regarding the murder case. Along the way, there's another meeting with the killer in a subway (and that scene, just like the elevator sequence, is absolutely riveting), and eventually, a big finale in Elliott's office where all becomes clear. A finale, I hasten to point out, that features this lovely image...

"Dressed to Kill" is a movie with outstanding directorial and acting work, but my favorite thing about it is the character arc that Nancy Allen's Liz goes through. Years before "Saw" and the like-styled movies made "forced attrition" a genre unto itself, "Dressed to Kill" featured a much more subtle version of the storyline. Throughout much of the movie, Liz is a very unrepentant character, and while we're never given a beat-you-over-the-head conversion scene, the audience leaves the film with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that the incidents - and the close friendship with Peter - have changed her for the better. And the ending scene? Horrific, powerful, and absolutely perfect.

Compared to other movies inducted into the IHR, I have a relatively short history with this particular film. A few years back, I was looking for nothing other than a good time waster on a Friday night while browsing the video store; a few hours later, I had a movie that comes damn close to being on my top ten horror films of all time list. The characters are well-defined and memorable (in addition to all the names mentioned above, there's Dennis Franz doing his trademark foul-mouthed cop role to perfection as the antagonistic investigator who refuses to believe our main characters), but it's the overall experience of viewing "Dressed to Kill" that rings the most true. Visually, it's an absolute feast, but is also disconcerting and disqueting to watch...just like the best Hitchcock movies.