1981 is strongly starting to feel like an incredibly poignant year in horror and strangely another classic cult feature had slipped me by.
I intend to right this wrong this year and finally took the time to sit down and watch Dead and Buried, and straight off the bat, I can see why it is revered so highly.
Right from the get-go, the opening scene pulls you in as we follow an amateaur photographer visiting the small town of Potter’s Bluff. He quickly becomes enamoured by a beautiful woman along with an invitation to copulate.
The photographer becomes ensnared and what starts out as a moment of sexual intrigue swiftly leads to his ruin when he is ambushed by some of the townsfolk, who beat him and set him on fire. As if that ordeal was torture enough, the photographer somehow survives, only to be finally put to rest by the temptress who visits him in the hospital dusguised as a nurse.
It’s a gripping and horrifying sequence that hangs heavy on the mind and wrongfully shafted the feature into the video nasty category.
It’s the raw approach to these harrowing scenes that force the viewer into the dark world lurking in the shadows of a remote American town.
This isn’t even the masterstroke of the film however, as director Gary Sherman (Death Line, Poltergeist III) guides us through Dan O’ Bannon and Ronald Shusett’s screenplay via Sheriff Dan Gillis’ (James Farentino). Gillis is drawn to the increase in murders that are sprouting up in town and enlists the support of eccentric mortician, Dobbs (Jack Albertson) to unearth those responsible. In doing so though, Gillis finds himself falling down a rabbit warren of death and despair, and curiously (although perhaps not surprisingly considering O’Bannon’s involvement) the discovery of reanimated corpses.
As Gillis descends further into his investigation, the behaviour of his wife Janet (Melody Anderson, who will always be remembered fondly as Dale Arden in 1980s Flash Gordon), adding to the bizarre things that continue to occur.
The final blow when it happens is a killer moment and one that leaves the rug firmly pulled beneath Gillis’ feet and us the audience along with him.
If you’ve not seen this movie before, I highly recommend it and it firmly confirms to me the genius mind of O’Bannon, who keeps on impressing with his writings of the Undead. Oh and it boasts an early performance from a certain Robert Englund in the mix too.
This 90 year old film starring John Barrymore in the titular role was based on the novel Trilby by George du Maurier. It essentially is a tale of a swindler character who lures women to him through the use of hypnosis and profit from their fortune. The term ‘svengali’ actually means someone who can control or mesmerise someone for sinister means.This has left some debate around the categorising of Svengali as a horror film, which admittedly has a thinly veiled occult theme due to Svengali’s abilities,
We learn that Svengali’s motives are nefarious early on the piece when he cruelly snubs Honori, a young lady that has left her husband to be with him, but with no money or talent for Svengali to sponge off, he influences her into running off and allegedly take her own life.
Barrymore relishes in this cavalier attitude that he carries around with him and brings a larger than life demeanor to his performance that is engaging to watch. This infectious nature is apparent when engaging with the other characters around him, who either shrink away for fear of being controlled or are instantly drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
So when Svengali falls for the young Trilby (Marian Marsh) he decides to manipulate her to his will. Especially when she doesn’t return his love, as she has eyes for another, Billee (Bramwell Fletcher).Once ensnared, Svengali then persuades Trilby to fake her own suicide and reun away with him to Paris. In Paris they set up a new life and Trilby becomes a successful singer and they both live off the fruits of her success.
Billee meanwhile refuses to give up and continues to pursue them in the hopes that he can win her heart back.
Svengali follows a fairly simple plotline but did win critical approval when it was released, which included an Academy Award nomination for the cinematography and set design. It didn’t, however, resonate with the audience at the time and failed to draw people into the cinemas. Svengali was also surprisingly dark for its time as there is no happy ending to the film. Instead the movie encircles its leads towards a bleak conclusion. This in part was in kee[ping with the movies of the time, labeled Pre-Code, before there was an official approval process. This allowed some filmmakers to produce some questionably deep subjects for the era, especially moving into crime stories such as Public Enemy. For this, Svengali does stand out along with Barrymore’s performance.
Whilst I can applaud the attempt to take this well trodden franchise into a relatively bold new direction, this French-Canadian made for tv horror, can’t remove the shackles that Damien Thorn had on The Omen. The problem arises in how this franchise can exist without the antichrist himself being integral to the uprise of evil. The fact of the matter is that it can’t. No matter how you try to dress it up, any manifestation of darkness will be secondary in comparison.
In what would be the last instalment, chronologically speaking before the 2006 remake, Omen IV: The Awakening tries to inject the fear again by introducing Delia to the fold. Delia, like Damian before her, was an orphan with an ominous background and brought into the world in a nun-owned orphanage.
There are a lot of similarities to the original 1976 feature, with a powerhouse couple (in this instance, two attorneys) Gene (Michael Woods) and Karen (Faye Grant) who raise Delia, only to discover something more sinister at play. Also the protective nanny, overseeing that no harm should befall the anointed one. Omen IV appears to follow a more female gaze with Karen’s journey as the central theme in juxtaposition to Gregory Peck’s Robert Thorn. It’s a missed opportunity however as if this wasn’t tied down to 90s tv budget territory, there could have been a more poignant message to explore here.
There are some other nice elements, such as the army of New Age spiritualists who deem themselves strong enough to rise up against the forces of evil, but prove to be too weak. I also like the cojines twins macguffin that held the idea of the antichrist reborn. It’s a loose thread but one that I could attach myself too. No pun intended.
Despite these elements, Omen IV was always punching above its weight and restricted to the platform of choice in order to carry out the story. It suffers from poor acting as well, so it was never going to amount to much trying to deliver a paper-thin version of what the original movie was able to achieve.
By the early 1970’s at the time of The Abominable Dr. Phibes ‘ release, its star Vincent Price had already established himself as the larger than life charismatic characters that he presented in the horror genre.
In many ways this film and his portrayal of the titular Dr. Phibes is a tongue in cheek profile of his on-screen caricature and he relishes in the camp, Phantom-esque presence from the moment he rises from the depths playing an organ with relish, accompanied by the animatronic band, Dr. Phibes’ Clockwork Wizards.
It’s this exuberance and the dark humour, accompanied by a strong cast that all play it straight, elevating the dark comedy to the fore and establishing the film as a cult in its own right.
The central theme is a simple one about revenge on behalf of Phibes who feels that the surgical team that were operating on his wife, Victoria (Caroline Munro) were responsible for malpractice. Presumed dead from a fiery car accident, Phibes returns to carry out his dastardly plot using extreme measures that call upon the ten plagues of Egypt in order to satiate his vengeance.
These outlandish murders soon raise the interests of Scotland Yard headed by a typical bumbling Brit detective, Inspector Harry Trout (Peter Jeffrey) to track down the culprit. His investigations lead him to deduce that a connection surrounds the medical staff who worked with Dr. Vesalius (Joseph Cotten) and that there is inevitably someone out to kill him and his colleagues. The only trouble is that the prime suspect, Phibes, is supposedly dead.
All the performances are solid and on point, notably Terry Thomas as Dr. Longstreet and Aubrey Woods as the Goldsmith, who each hit their comedic notes perfectly.
The glory belongs to Price however, and part of the appeal to his character of Phibes is not only his deadly pursuit but also that he is no longer able to speak bar through his use of acoustic that allow his presence to be deliberately off-kilter, but you can also tell that he his having a lot of fun in his role.
There is a cracking ending too that plays to the hand of a sequel, Dr. Phibes Rises Again, once again directed by Robert Fuest (And Soon The Darkness), possibly a pre-ordained plan on part of the producers, especially knowing that further scripts were bandied around called Phibes Resurrectus, The Bride of Dr. Phibes, and The Seven Fates of Dr. Phibes, but unfortunately would not see fruition. A shame as I would loved to have seen Price and Dr. Phibes enact more gloriously over-the-top grisly murders along the way.
I’m only just learning now that La Noche de Walpurgis, which celebrates 50 years since its release this year, is actually the fifth instalment of a 12-part series called The Hombre Lobo series about a werewolf called Waldemar Daninsky.
Supposedly, these movies have little to connect one another apart from the afore-mentioned lycanthrope and its star, Paul Naschy. So it’s probably a goog thing that I was unaware of this when I sat down to watch this instalment.
Naschy coincidentally picked up something of a cult following due to his numerous portrayals of classic horror movie characters, which earned him the title, The Spanish Lon Chaney.
Here though, Naschy sticks to the debonair Daninsky, a charismatic gent by day, hairy wolf by night.
Made for the paltry sum of $120,000 and it shows, especially the first scene which is incredibly camp and should not be judged for the tone of the rest of the film… kind of.
We witness two doctors examining Daninsky’s corpse and mockingly jest that the removal of the silver bullets that killed him would resurrect him once more. When this actually does happen, said doctors are shocked at the figure transforming before them, before being mauled to death.
This made sense now knowing that it followed on from the previous film in the series, The Fury of the Wolf Man.
Director León Klimovsky does his best to hide the obvious blemishes through stylised shots and creating an eerie atmosphere, which is typically European and predominantly shot in slow motion, which sort of works in places.
The crux of the film itself follows two students, Elvira and Genevieve who go in search of a tomb belonging to a medieval murderess, who happens to be a vampiress called Wandessa (Patty Shepard). Inadvertently Elvira resurrects Wandessa by bleeding onto the corpse. Wandessa then goes on a killing rampage in her wake to build her disciples of creatures of the night. The only thing that can stop them is the noble-hearted lycanthrope, Daninsky. But at what cost?
La Noche de Walpurgis is exactly what you expect from a low-budget European 70s film, but it was a hauntingly visual treat that actually boasted some decent effects considering.
Less She-Wolf of London and more She-Wolf in Sheep’s clothing as this 1946 feature from Universal Pictures attempts to pull the wool over their audience’s eyes.
The ruse is well implanted in the psyche by the antagonist, leading our heroine and us down a mythological lie born out of the fear and paranoia that the Allenby family has werewolf blood in its veins.
It may have served better to have called the film, The Curse of the Allenbys, (which is actually the title given to the feature for its UK release), but then this would not have put as many bums on seats and capitalised on the Universal backlot of Werewolf movies that starred Lon Chaney. It would also have been cool to have used the same plot but leveraged from the 1936 vehicle starring Henry Hull as Dr. Wilfred Glendon. Instead of using the Allenby family name, if they had used their bluff around Dr. Glendon, then there would have been more merit to the gaslighting component.
All this may sound a little harsh, because in truth, the film is incredibly strong in its delivery and using greed and power as its core theme for the subterfuge. Our lead character, Phyllis (June Lockhart) stands to come into the Allenby fortune, but standing in her way is either her Aunt Martha (Sara Haden) or her cousin Carol (Jan Wiley) who have lived in the mansion all their lives and could lose it all.
The fact that there has also been a series of murders near the estate and reported sightings of a she-wolf only adds fuel to Phyliss’ fears, forced to her bed and away from society in case she is the one responsible.
She-Wolf of London struggles to find an identity of its own as it attempts to prize itself free from the coat-tails of yester-year movies produced by Universal, but inevitably the film is slow and cumbersome with barely a ripple of fear to be seen.
Another cult film to have been released in 1981, and criminally escaped me was Happy Birthday To Me. In my defense, and I had to keep using this as my “Get Out Of Jail Free Card”, was the fact that it was lumped into the video nasties category, which meant that growin up in the UK, a lot of these movies were confiscated and hard to come by.
I do distinctly remember the video cover though, and finding the notion of death by kebab both, hilarious and intriguing.
Now that I’ve finally ticked it off my watchlist, I can see why it gained a cult following.
It’s not the most shocking or intelligent movie but it’s a hell of a lot of fun, plus it starred Little House On The Prairie’s Melissa Sue Anderson as its lead in a marked step away from her innocent portrayal of Mary Ingalls.
It’s most interesting premise was for Anderson to play Ginny, who suffered a brain injury when she was younger, and is now having blackouts. These temporary bouts of unconsciousness lead Ginny and the audience to question her actions when the bodies start to pile up and she has no memory of where she was at the time.
It doesn’t help that Ginny is part of the social elite called ‘The Top Ten’ that is made up of the most privileged students at the local high school, and that the members of this group appear to be the target of the killer.
There are plenty of twists and turns along the way to keep the audience guessing and the ending plays delightfully with the revelation, which pushes Ginny over the edge, with no hope of return. It would have been interesting to have seen how the original screenplay would have been received had it remained, as it played with the idea of possession, and sat more squarely with the original concept.
Having said that, I did like the off-kilter and downbeat ending that leaves the audience with little hope, despite the ending being neatly tied up. There are some admittedly bizarre deaths that the publicity team took no hesitation to promote heavily upon the film’s release with some nice effects at play. It also marked another triumph from the minds of My Bloody Valentine, John Dunning and Andre Link, who managed to package a solid movie and a decent premise, albeit a little shaky on the payoff.
By today’s standards, The Fan slips easily into mediocrity as it follows the tale of an obsessed fan who goes to extreme measures to win the heart of his centre of attention.
There is a notable exception though that boosts the appeal factor of the viewer to the subject, its stars.
As the object of affection is the simply brilliant Lauren Bacall, playing Sally Ross, an actress of the stage and screen. As you can expect, Bacall is magnificent in this role, amping up the moments that she’s in the spotlight, playing the catty diva at times in rehearsals, but showing heart with those closest to her, and a mixture of vulnerability and forelonging for the love she lost, her ex-husband Jake (James Garner).
It’s Michael Biehn though that steals the show as the deranged and cold-blooded psycho killer, Douglas Breen. He is suitably driven by his warped sense of reality and fascination with Sally and will stop at nothing to get closer to her. The pursuit itself is played out well and meticulously slow as he attempts to get closer to Sally, but often blocked along the way. It suddenly makes his casting of Kyle Reese in The Terminator by James Cameron, a stroke of genius. When we first meet Reese, the audience is unsure if he’s a killer/stalker out to get Sarah Conner. Of course when the reveal happens there, we realise he’s her saviour and the rest of cinema history is set. Here though, Biehn’s character of Douglas remains dark and deadly, where we’re only allowed a window into his soul through the narrated letters he sends to Sally.
By the films conclusion, admittedly The Fan comes across as a tired formula and predictable, but I have to admit that i still enjoyed the ride and it has a lot to do with watching both Bacall and Biehn’s performance, grounding them into reality and with that believability, so that despite the faults that Sally Ross bears, we do care for her and the journey that Douglas goes through is one we connect with. Albeit not quite as deranged, but the feeling of abandonment and confusion in a society where we don’t belong at times, is often resonant. I’d definitely recommend this if it hasn’t crossed your path before.
25 years ago, before Scream would reawaken the horror genre and generate a plethora of like minded movies came a film that tapped wholly into my adolescent brain. I’ll let you decide which part of the brain from which I am referring. Needless to say, Fairuza Balk’s Nancy stirred something inside me that yearned for and connected with females who drifted outside the mainstream of what was considered “normal”.
Recently, The Craftwas given new life in the public eye thanks to its sequel of sorts, The Craft: Legacyreleased by Blumhouse last year, but somehow it failed to ignite the same passion as the original.
Some of this could easily be put down to its strong, young cast with the afore-mentioned Fairuza playing the main antagonist to Robin Tunney’s white witch, Sarah in what is essentially a coming of age teen-drama. Joining these two are also Neve Campbell, Rachel True, Skeet Ulrich, and Christine Taylor, who all essentially lift what comes across as a medicroe tale when reviewed through today’s eyes.
It still however holds a strong place in my heart, despite its flaws and molded my love of 90s teen horror as a result. What can I say, it’s my achilles heel.
It helps that swiftly following TheCraft came the behemoth of Teen Slasher films… Screamdirected by the great, Wes Craven. It also boasted two of the movie’s stars in Neve Campbell and Skeet Ulrich whose careers were rightfully projected to stardom as a result.
Scream is now the stuff of legend with its meta representation of the horror franchise and again boasted an awesome cast with Courtney Cox, David Arqette, Matthew Lillard, Rose McGowan, Jamie Kennedy and let’s not forget that killer opening sequence with Drew Barrymore. Before the decade was out a sequel would also follow the following year and along with it a franchise and Ghostface’s interchangeable personna was born.
Chief among setting the tone for the decade and the success that followed in Scream’s wake was Dawson’s Creek scribe Kevin Williamson, who managed to tap into the pulse of those of my generation, eager to be understood and have those “deep and meaningful’ relationship discussions.
By 1997, Williamson was just starting to hit his stride with I Know What You Did Last Summerstarring Campbell’s fellow Party of Five alumni Jennifer Love-Hewitt.
Love-Hewitt stars as Julie James, who along with three other school friends (Ryan Philippe, Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sarah Michelle Gellar, the latter was already on the rise thanks to a certain Buffy role) accidentally run down a stranger on the road and leave him for dead. It’s basically an elongated urban legend with the man with a hook hellbent on revenge. Like Scream it would also generate a franchise with a further two sequels to cash the cow.
Back to the Dawson’s Creek connection and another teen horror, Disturbing Behaviourthat would be released in 1998, the busiest year for the sub-genre, At the time, I more-than jumped on this band-wagon following Katie Holmes’ second feature film. This was a time when I, like Dawson, was undecided about the whole Joey/Jen thing, before realising in my case, that Michelle Williams was always the more interesting person to watch on screen, but more about her in a moment.
Disturbing Behaviour is probably the weakest in this line up of movies, but does boast James Marsden and Nick Stahl in the mix, in a tale of idyllic suburbia with a sour undertone in both its take of the American Dream and repressed teenage sexuality but it does still have the same beats and touches on the same wavelength that was being generated at the time.
Onto Holmes’ counterpart, Michelle Williams, who, again in my opinion, deserves greater praise for the work that she produces each year. In 1998, Williams would be cast in the support role of Molly in one of Horrors biggest franchises, Halloween.
Halloween H20: 20 Years Later would have Kevin Williamson on writing duties, so it’s no wonder that Williams would connect well with the screenplay. Aside from bringing Jamie Lee Curtis back for the first time since Halloween 2 to pit against Michael Myers, it also introduced us to the so fresh and hot right now, Josh Hartnett. Let’s not talk about that hair cut though, for in his other movie that year, The Faculty, he slipped easily into the bad boy, good heart character with a brooding presence. Oh and that guy Kevin Williamson is behind the screenplay again.
When I first watched The Faculty I had a strong negative reaction to it, as I wore my snobbery hat when I watched it and took all the homagees embedded within as rip=offs of the great films that preceded it. I was a huge fan of director Rober Rodriguez at the time, which I think added to my disappointment further.
I have since grown to love this film more though and recognise it for what it was, a love of sci fi horror and again had some great stars in Elijah Wood (pre-LOTR), Jordana Brewster, Clea Duvall (I had such a thing for her too – Apparently I have a type, just ask fellow Surgeon Antony Yee), Laura Harris, Salma Hayek, Famke Janssen, Bebe Neuwirth, Robert Patrick, Shawn Hatosy, Jon Stewart, and Piper Laurie. It definitely warrants repeat viewing and holds up because of the fun energy and bold direction that Rodriuez alway brings to his movies.
Rounding out the quartet of movies for 1998 is Urban Legend which is a little forgotten despite generating a franchise in its own right and another strong cast considering with Alicia Witt, Jared Leto, Tara Reid, Rebecca Gayheart, Michael Rosenbaum, Joshua Jackson (Dawson’s Creek again), Robert Englund, and Danielle Harris into the fold. It captures the urban legend tales of horror well enough but can’t quite shake off the fact that it’s riding on the coattails of stronger movies and suffers a little with age.
My last notable film to mention however lifts the half-decade of teen horror back to higher standards with its clearly tongue in cheek tale, Idle Hands where a stoner, Anton (Devon Sawa currently seen in a cracking film, Hunter Hunter) who discovers his hands are possessed after waking up to find his parents murdered. A cool cast again with Jessica Alba and Seth Green, Idle Hands is great fun to watch and definitely not to be taken seriously.
Sawa would also go on to star in another cracking film at the turn of the next decade in Final Destination as the trend would dial down a little.
For those 5-6 years though, it would produce a number of movies, some to hold high and some probably best forgotten but for nostalgic reasons still resonate with me today. I can only blame Nancy. I should have taken the heed and bound her from harm… harm to others and harm to myself…
While 1981 proved to be a huge year in the name of horror, projecting some classic or cult films in the genre, The Nesting had not even clipped this reviewers radar. You could argue that a prime reason for this was down to it being quickly shafted into the video nasties category in the UK upon its release, subjecting the film into obscurity. However, I found upon watching the film which is currently available on Tubi, that obscure depiction may be a correct label to have been assigned to it. Not because of its graphic nature, but more for the curious tale that is told by writer/director Armand Weston. The story centres on Lauren Cochran (Robin Groves), a novelist who suffers from agoraphobia. So, on the advice from her doctor, moves to the country and rents out an old mansion, which she is strangely drawn towards, in the hopes that it will overcome her ailment. The oddity doesn’t reside there however, as a series of bizarre events occur once Lauren arrives, including the encounter she has with the mansion’s owner, Colonel Lebrun (John Carradine – House of Frankenstein) suffers a stroke the moment he lies eyes on her.
Compounding her troubles further, Lauren starts to experience some deeply unsettling dreams of women lounging around the house. It is when one of these women appears to her during the day, that Lauren’s world starts spiralling, throwing her into confusion over what is real or not. Is she losing her mind or is there more to her visions than they seem?
Not content on resting on her laurels, Lauren turns sleuth to uncover the secrets of the mansion, butin doing so, starts to unearth some unsavoury characters, and may send her over the brink of sanity.
The problem I have with The Nesting is that it struggles to be a certain kind of movie but it struggles under the weight of its premise. Agorophobia is a ripe subject that has potential to inflict a deep horror, drawn from the troubles that the human mind can produce. It’s a subject that has been done before and since, Repulsion and Copycat to name but a few.
It’s a muddled script that gets too clouded and surreal to follow, and with some tighter direction, could have been a better film. As such, it may continue to wallow in anonymity as a result.
Surgeons of Horror 