31 Days of Halloween: Day 29

Night of the Living Dead (1968) George A. Romero 

This may well be the best title to a movie ever.

For no apparent reason, corpses are rising from the dead and going on a rampage of murder throughout the Eastern United States.  A group of seven people find themselves boarded up in a country house as these "ghouls" try to break in.  The plot is ingeniously simple in it's structure, but subtly complex in its execution.  Most of the drama takes place within the home and the conflict between the inhabitants.  In a way, this is just 12 Angry Men (1957) with zombies.

Although these creatures are never actually referred to as zombies.  They are called either "ghouls," "assassins," or some other title of that sort.  Regardless of what they are actually called, they are in fact zombies.  While not the first zombie movie by any means (that title goes to White Zombie), it is the one that really launched the sub-genre into mass appeal.

Night of the Living Dead is often considered to be the first modern horror film.  Now what that means is that the way in which it was shot represented the sort of template from which future films followed.  This includes the use of handheld camera work, deeply psychological horror that reflected the current political climate, heightened level of violence, and an overall more "aggressive" quality to it.

The zombies in the film are generally understood to be a metaphor or the atomic age.  There was a constant fear that World War III was going to erupt and all civilization was going to be wiped out with nuclear weapons.  The foreboding doom of the zombies waiting outside of the house while most of the town has already been wiped out is what most vividly represents this.  The climax of the film also stands to illustrate a sort of explosion of death that would come with the dropping of the bomb.  The image of walking corpses could also symbolize the United States' involvement in the Vietnam War.  All of Romero's subsequent zombie flicks carry political allegory.  

Shot in black and white, the photography heavily uses shadows to create the dark mood of the film.  It almost looks noir-ish at times.  This also helps to make the special effects just as believable now as they were in 1968.  For the devoured corpses, the crew used real meat covered in chocolate syrup.  Yummy.  The special effects artist, Tom Savini would later go on to do the effects the the latter two Dead films, and directed a remake of the original in 1990.  The remake seems pretty unnecessary.  Especially since Savini has stated in interviews that black and white is scarier but shot the remake in color.

This is the sort of movie that is ideal for the drive-in or a midnight screening.  It was shot for a super low budget and it looks it, but in a good way.  The way it was shot gives it a sort of raw, here-and-now quality that the digital format allotted 28 Days Later.  From the start, Night of the Living Dead is terrific fun that expertly paced throughout while run time.  This is one of the fundamental classics of the genre and one that any fan absolutely must see.
 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 28

The Descent (2005) Director: Neil Marshall

A group of beautiful, big-breasted women make a series of terrible decisions that lead to them getting lost in an uncharted cave system that contains some not so scary monsters.

I knew what the monsters looked like going into The Descent because there are pictures of them on the Wikipedia page.  Knowing this,  I was afraid that much of the movie's suspense would be lost.  As it turns out, the first hour-or-so of the film has no monsters, but instead effectively manifests the environment itself into the antagonistic force, which then produce a very real fear of getting lost.  One scene has a character getting stuck between some rocks, and the little shard of claustrophobia I have ignited as I leaned in as much as I could toward the screen in anticipation. 

It is these earlier moments that are the strongest bits of The Descent.  The horror is entirely psychological, and more importantly, easily relatable.  Just last spring I went on a run in the woods and found myself getting lost.  What was meant to be a 30 minute run ended up taking more than an hour.  The whole time I had to tell myself that I would get out okay.  The characters do the same in The Descent.  There must be a way out of these caves.  The anxiety grows as the group, as well the audience, can't help but question if by going deeper into the cave, are they getting closer to the exit, or going deeper into the labyrinth?

Even as I was watching the film, before the monsters appeared, I began to wonder of the film as a whole would be more frightening if there were no monsters at all.  After watching it, I concluded that it indeed would have been.

The first time we get a full look at a "crawler," I did in fact gasp out loud.  It was an exhilarating reveal, but once the shock had dissipated the scene quickly developed into a loud action brawl.  It was at this point that I lost a chunk of interest in the film.  Sure, the women made some stupid decisions to get into their current predicament, but now they continued to make a series of progressively worse ones.  The most infuriating is a senseless betrayal that accomplishes nothing, and is only based on rumor.  It almost seemed like a commentary on negative stereotypes of women who hold grudges and spread rumors.

The tension established in the first hour goes flying out the window when the monsters appear, and the film quickly develops into a series of jump scares.  Most of these jump scares are obnoxiously predictable, but still made me jump a bit, simply because it was a loud noise prefaced by some quiet.  It was no longer scary, but instead just plain annoying.  The sort of irritation one gets when a kid keeps flicking stuff at the back of your head whenever you turn away from him.  Ugh.

At least the jump scares in The Conjuring (2013) were actually scary.  The ones in The Descent reminded me of how I felt when I was kid and saw a particular scene in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002) for the first time.  Harry has just teleported to Diafdjhgkshfgksfgs-ally via a chimney, and sees some creepy looking hand thing.  I knew the hand thing was going to close on him, but it still mad me jump when it happened.  That's not good filmmaking, it's just being a nuisance.

Anyway.

The monsters are also pretty easy to kill, so they quickly become unintimidating.  One women becomes such a bad ass in her rampage against the crawlers that it felt almost like I was watching a Sam Raimi or Perter Jackson horror film.  At this point the film becomes more comedic than anything else.

The Descent is by no means bad.  It's just not scary, although plenty of people seem to think that it is.  The first half is certainly chilling, but once we see the monster, the film becomes a splatter fest.  So if splatter films are what you're looking for, then this will actually be quite satisfying for you.  I didn't walk away from this film scared, but I was at least entertained, even with a few annoyances.   

31 Days of Halloween: Day 27

28 Days Later (2002) Director: Danny Boyle

While technically not a zombie film, 28 Days Later marked the beginning of a new era for the horror sub-genre.  Here the "zombie's" run, and fast.  However the film is much more than the novelty of quicker monsters.  It examines the fears of the new millennium, and manifests them within a forever popular format.  28 Days Later is frighteningly relevant to today, and in many ways more so than it was in 2002.

So the zombies run.  That's one of the first things that come into discussion with this movie.  That and the fact that they are not zombies, they are "Infected."  This may seem a bit strange, but the best analysis of contemporary zombies that I have heard, came from a video game journalist, Adam Sessler.  He is the one gaming journalist who I do not think is a complete moron.

Here's a video of him talking about zombie movies and games:



While 28 Days Later may have been still shooting when 9/11 attacks occurred, that only makes the sub-textual hysteria prophetic, rather than reactionary.  It is nonetheless interesting to see how zombie culture has changed as a result of terrorism.

Apes infected with a Rage virus are released by some asshole activists and it quickly spreads across England.  A man named Jim awakes 28 days after the outbreak to find that he is all alone.  Director Danny Boyle has stated that in making the film he wanted to conjure up people's growing fear of getting sick, and actually based the Rage virus on Ebola.  In a society that is obsessed with hand sanitizer, I would say that Boyle hit the nail right on the head.  As the story develops, there is eventually a party of The Scarecrow, Moneypenny, and Alastor Moody on a journey to find safety from the virus.

However, it is not the zombies that are the most terrifying aspect of 28 Days Later.  It is how vividly Danny Boyle articulates with images that this is indeed the end of the world.  The shots of Jim walking through desolate streets of London paint a unnerving image of complete loneliness and isolation.  The central fear factor in 28 Days Later is not the death of a single individual, but of all mankind.  This makes each human interaction precious, and the excellent script and acting create a cast of characters that we as an audience genuinely care for, and whose survival we pray for.  This feeling of being on the brink of extinction is magnified by the fact that it was shot in a digital video format, giving the film a raw and gritty look.

I actually came across this film back in high school because of it's great musical score.  It's most famous track, In the House, In a Heartbeat, has been featured in the trailers to movies such as Beowulf (2007) and Death Sentence (2007), and because of this track, I hunted down the film it was from.  The score hits all the right notes, and amplifies the emotions in each scene, both the intense and serene.

In 2007, a sequel was released, titled 28 Weeks Later.  The film is solid, although not nearly as good as the original.  The film is a metaphor for the U.S. occupation in Iraq, and how poorly it had been going.  What's most notable about 28 Weeks Later is its opening sequence, which is one of the best moments in any film within the horror genre.  It is reason enough to give it a watch. 

28 Days Later is one of the absolute best horror films of the 21st century, and paved the way for a whole new generation fear. 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 26

Repulsion (1965) Director: Roman Polanski

Roman Polanski was born to Polish parents in Paris in 1933.  In 1936 he and his family moved back to Poland.  Anyone who is familiar with world history should know that Poland became one of the worst places to be on Earth soon after the Polanski family moved in.  He survived the Holocaust, but his mom was killed in Auschwitz.  In 1969 Polanski's pregnant wife, Sharon Tate, was murdered by the Manson Family.  Most folks today know him for raping a 13-year-old-girl.  Needless to say, the man has had a crazy life.

Repulsion was the second feature film Polanski directed, following his debut, Knife in the Water (1962).  The film follows a young, Belgian woman named Carol who is living London with her older sister.  Her sister is having an affair with a married Englishman and the two go off on a holiday together, leaving Carol alone in the apartment.  The audience then watches as madness slowly seeps into Carol's mind. 

The film is the first in Polanski's "Apartment Trilogy," with the other two installments being Rosemary's Baby (1968) and The Tenant (1968), all of which focus on events taking place primarily in an apartment.  Here the sotry is as much about repulsion as it is about repression, specifically sexual repression.  Carol is surrounded by free and open sexuality everywhere she goes, but she hides away from it at all costs.  An attractive young man tries to woo her but she ignores him, and her sister's lover is nothing but an irritation in her eyes.  The film paints a world that is defined by sexuality, and Carol struggles to separate and isolate herself from it.  She is repulsed by what she sees, and represses what she feels.

Repulsion implements claustrophobic cinematography, using many tightly framed close ups in addition to being set mostly inside Carol's apartment.  The claustrophobia creates a sort of "walls coming in" effect as the visualizations of insanity become more fantastic.  The horror is certainly psychological, as we understand most images on screen to be manifestations of Carol's own repressed thoughts.  Her thoughts becomes externalized through images of men assaulting her, both in her mind and how she perceives them in reality.

Carol comes off as shy and innocent in the film's opening, but as her story progresses she seems more like one who simply can't deal with the trauma she sees in the world.  This may relate to a trauma from when she was younger.  Some have theorized that she was sexually abused as a child, and that this is suggested in the film through the film's repeated rape fantasies.  Indeed, male figures are the primary source of hostility in Carol's mind. 

Repulsion is one trip of a film, giving hardly any answers to the plethora of questions it raises.  Much less famous than Polanski's latter horror film, Rosemary's Baby, Repulsion is a much more challenging film, and bears more fruit for those with greater patience.  Much can be read into it taking into account its historical context, but perhaps even more can be interpreted when taking Polanski's own life into consideration. 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 25

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) Director: Wes Craven

A Nightmare on Elm Street holds the distinction of being the greatest film set in the state of Ohio.

Ever since I was in elementary school, I had a rather bizarre fascination with A Nightmare on Elm Street.  I believe it began with me seeing a Freddy Kruger costume at the local Meijer (a hypermarket store chain in the Midwest area) and thinking it looked really cool.  Also around that time in my life, I noticed at a friend's house that his dad had the Nightmare on Elm Street game for the original Nintendo.  Once again I was intrigued by the image of the movie, and now I knew the title. 

Soon after discovering that this man with knives for fingers came from a film called, "A Nightmare on Elm Street," I asked my mom if I could see it.  She said, "no."  Considering I was still around 10 years old, I suppose I can't blame the old hag.  That didn't stop me from asking all of the adults that I could about the movie, and what it was all about.  The more I heard, the more I wanted to see it, as well as all the other famous slasher films.

Fast forward to Middle School and I found A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors playing on AMC, and decided to watch it.  Finally, I was able to see Kruger in action.  I was allowed to watch it because it was on TV, but since it was censored, a bunch of the good stuff was cut out. 

My appetite for the original film in the series only grew.  Soon after seeing the third movie on the tube, I convinced my mom to let me see the original.  I rented it from the video store, plopped down on the floor of the basement with my bud, Kevin Coppel, and prepared myself for one of my greatest longings to finally come true. 

Written and directed by Wes Craven, Nightmare follows the story of a group of teenagers who each begin to have similar dreams about this madman with knives for fingers trying to kill them.  It turns out that if he kills you in your dream, then you die in real life too.  One by one the killer, Freddy Kruger, murders the teenagers, and what's worse is that none of the parents believe the surviving teenagers about what is going on. 

Nightmare is kind of like a horror version of 8 1/2 (1963).  Craven cleverly blurs the lines between dreams and reality so that neither the characters nor the audience are sure of what is real until some sort of macabre image appears.  This makes for some fun guessing games and suspense.  Craven also takes advantage of the fact that these are dreams that the characters inhabit.  Unlike the "ingenuous" Inception (2010), weird things happen in the dreams in Nightmare, with impossible location changes and other logic defying elements.  The special effects of the film fully embraced this potential, making for some good scare moments and kills.  The first kill in the film was created with a film set that rotated (the same effect is used in Inception).

One of the fun parts about the slasher genre is how it created a whole new lineup of movie monsters.  There's Leatherface, Michael Myers, Jason, Freddy Kruger, and more.  Each of these monsters give distinct personalities to their films, and we often return to the sequels for the monster, not so much the story.  Nightmare spawned seven sequels and a pointless remake in 2010.  Of the sequels, most are pretty meh or bad.  However, Part 3 (1987) is enjoyable, and the seventh, Wes Craven's New Nightmare (1994), is actually really good, setting the groundwork for Craven's later film, Scream (1996). 

A Nightmare on Elm Street holds a special place in my heart for being that mysterious movie I always wanted to see as a kid, as well as being my introduction into the slasher genre.  Thankfully the film held up to my expectations, and still does so after all these years.  This is quality story telling, with fun effects, and an iconic performance from Robert Englund as Kruger.  This is truly one of the greats.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 24

The Conjuring (2013) Director: James Wan

During the summer of 2013 I began to hear a good amount of hype around a new horror film coming out called The Conjuring.  I got excited at the fact that the film was apparently actually scary.  However, I was not without a hint of sadness, for I knew I would not see it for a while.

The last movie before The Conjuring to garner that much hype was 2007's Paranormal Activity.  I went and saw the film in the theater, and that is when I learned a valuable lesson when it comes to me and horror films.  I can't watch them in the theater because I find the audience getting scared to be hysterical, so I end up just laughing the whole time.  Paranormal Activity hardly phased me in the slightest since it played more like a comedy.  Learning this lesson, I decided to wait until The Conjuring came out on video before I saw it.  Turns out I ended up waiting much longer than that, having only watched it for the first time last night.

Was it worth the wait?  Yes.

I was alone in my apartment, at 10pm, with all the lights out.  The Conjuring is the scariest film I have seen in a long, long time.

The film opens with a prologue introducing a duo of demonologist, ghost hunter people and a story about a possessed doll named Annabelle.  Right from the start, the film does a good job of establishing mood as well as the mythology of the film.  The film then jumps ahead to 1971, Rhode Island.  I family of seven (five daughters) is moving into a house out in the country.  While moving in they discover a hidden basement that looks like as clear a sign as any that the house is haunted.  Haunted house things begin to happen, so the family ask the demonologists for help.

Is that you, Silk Spectre?

I often emphasize that atmosphere and mood are the most important elements of a horror film, and simply resorting to jump scares is easy and boring.  Mood pieces are quiet, while jump scares are loud.  The Conjuring is a loud film, but it is handled in such a way that I was not irritated by the jump bits, but was actually having fun with it.  There is a level of craftsmanship in Wan's directing that exceeds much of what is released these days, and even when the film treads on known territory, it still comes off as fresh.  The loud scenes are still filled with mood so that once the BANG hits, there tension is not lost, but instead built upon.

The film is shot and feels like a horror film of the 1970s.  When was the last time you saw a zoom lens used in a film that was not directed by Wes Anderson?  Even the opening prologue scroll feels like a horror film from the decade.  The Conjuring also pays homage and alludes to other films of the genre through scare bits and plot points.  This is a nice touch and the look feels appropriate for the story.

It is very hard to make a movie scary today with visuals alone, and Wan seems to understand that sound is the most important aspect to making something horrifying.  The sound design and editing is phenomenal, and many of the set pieces revolve around what is heard, not what is seen.  There is a great moment where the mother is locked in the basement and the light goes off.  The screen goes dark for almost 30 seconds, leaving the audience only the soundscape.

Many of the scares include really clever elements, such as scene with a mysterious pair of hands clapping.  One of my favorite moments is when one of the daughters wakes in the night because something was pulling at her leg.  She looks at the shadows behind the door of the room, flushed with fear.  Her sister in the neighboring bed wakes up and asks what's wrong.  The former girl says that there is something behind the door.  The film cuts to a shot showing her perspective.  We can't see anything...

I like that the haunting is a truly evil one.  I always find it somewhat disappointing when it turns out the ghost only wanted a friend, or was missing it's favorite toy.  I want one that is out to kill as many people as possible.  The Conjuring certainly has that, although I was expecting an added surprise from the ghost at the end, but what actually happened is still satisfying.

I only have one real complaint, and it's not even so much a complaint as what I think was a missed opportunity.  I'm going to get into spoilers now, so watch out.  The scene where the witch apparently takes the Annabelle doll is really great, but I wish that it had been developed more.  The doll just goes back in the case.  I like the idea of these two demonic forces joining forces, and I think it could have made for an interesting plot development if the enemy grew in strength like that.  Oh well.

Spoilers end.

The Conjuring scared me.  A lot.  I went to bed right after it ended, which was a mistake.  As I walked to my room from the bathroom the door to my roommates room closed shut.  She wasn't home...  I assumed one of the windows in her room was open, and that it was the wind, but there was no way in hell that I was going to check.  Instead I rushed to my bed and curled up and tried to fall asleep as fast as possible.  I had nightmares, and woke up with sore sholder muscles because I was so tense.

This movie really scared me.  What's great is that as each scary moment was about to happen, I watched with my eyes opened as wide as possible and my arms held tight.  This may sound unpleasant to some, but these moments were actually a great deal of fun!  It's been a while since a movie hit me as hard as this one, and as someone who is always searching for that good scare, this is like finding a mint condition Black Lotus.  If this doesn't all sound like high praise, then I don't know what will.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 23

The Orphanage (2007) Director: Juan Antonio Bayona

Regardless of genre, a bad ending can ruin what otherwise is a good film.  Unfortunately, I think the Spanish horror film, The Orphanage, exemplifies this.

A husband and wife, Laura and Carlos, live in, and plan to reopen the orphanage in which Laura lived when she was a little girl.  The two also have an adopted son, Simón, who has imaginary friends.  Soon after moving to their new home, Simón begins to meet new imaginary friends.  These new imaginary friends are of course more than they first appear to be.  Simón goes missing and his parents desperately search for him using all the resources that they can.

During the course of the investigation secrets are discovered about the orphanage, and about one of its workers.  These moments of revelation are some of the creepiest in the film, simply because the idea of these things happening alone are unnerving.  As each new puzzle piece is discovered, the truth becomes all the more disturbing.

Structurally, The Orphanage plays it close to many haunted house films that came before it, such as The Uninvited (1944), The Changeling (1980), and The Devil's Backbone (2001).  It's well crafted, with an intriguing mystery, but there is never anything that sticks out as particularly groundbreaking.  One seen has the obligatory medium talking to/looking at the dead in the house, and in order to make the scene come off as fresh, it is is presented through the perspective of video cameras set up throughout the house.  But the scene is extremely predictable, and because of that most of the potential tension was lost.

This is scary, for now.

Like the medium scene, there are moments that are creepy, but ultimately fall short of their potential due to bad decisions by the filmmaker.  Scenes that begin quiet and creepy are soon interrupted with a loud noise and bombastic music.  One key example is a scene where Laura plays a game with the ghosts.  Once the tone makes this change, all potential for horror is immediately lost.  Due to this, atmosphere is rarely achieved because tones of horror are ever changing.

This is most apparent in the films ending.  There is a wonderful reveal that hits the audience right in the gut.  All the pieces have come together, and a truly bleak picture is drawn.  I was so satisfied by this reveal, but then something else happened, the movie didn't end.  It goes on for another 5-10 minutes and becomes something absurdly sentimental.  Everything that had been achieved earlier in the film was lost, and all hope of leaving a lasting effect on a viewer vanished. 

It seems that Bayona was attempting to give the film an element of heart seen in the work of Guillermo del Toro (who produced The Orphanage), like in The Devil's Backbone.  The problem is that in del Toro's films, this heart is apparent from the beginning and is fully paid off in the climax.  Here, in The Orphanage, the heart is only teased at in the beginning, and then comes at you like an avalanche in the end.  It wasn't earned, and feels forced and dishonest to the rest of the film.  The film could have left with an impact similar to Ringu (1998), but instead left no impact at all.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 22

The Innocents (1961) Director: Jack Clayton

The back of the Criterion box for The Innocents opens by stating, "This genuinely frightening" blah blah blah.  Upon reading that, I instantly assumed it wouldn't be scary.  Scorsese also put this film on his scariest movie list.  It's sometimes frustrating when a film has this kind of hype where it is said to be "genuinely frightening," because anything less seems like a failure and disappointment.  Kind of like how Citizen Kane is probably the most disappointing movie ever made because no one walks away from it the first time and thinks, "wow, that was the greatest movie of all time!!!"

So The Innocents isn't really scary, but it certainly has some spooky moments.  Miss Giddens applies for, and gets a job as a governess for a wealthy bachelor.  Her main duty is to watch over two children he has adopted, and who he doesn't feel like raising himself.  Gibbens cares for the kids at a far away mansion, distant from the bachelor and most of civilization.  Soon after arriving, Giddens begins to hear and see strange things. 

The film sometimes suffers from the same issue that plagues The Uninvited (1944), where the romantic score with sweeping strings takes the audience out of any sort of tension.  Compare some of the musical cues in this to a film like The Shining (1980), and the importance of music in horror films becomes ever apparent.  However, the romantic score only exists in the film for its first act, and once things begin to go down the path of horror, the score takes a turn to more effectively evoke the proper mood.

There is never a full answer given to the mystery surrounding the supernatural happenings.  Instead possibilities are only suggested, and the ending remains ambiguous, although not frustrating.  There are two horror themes at work in the film, and both of them are hinted at, but neither are
fully acknowledged. 

The first is ghosts and hauntings, which is quickly apparent to the audience.  But then there is another element, that is much more subtle, and that is of pedophobia, the fear of children.  The kids from the get-go seem a touch off, but we accept that as being a consequence of their upbringing.  Then small hints and questions are sparked that makes it appear that they may know more than they're leading the adults to believe.  How much influence on the strange occurrences do they have and how much do they know becomes a central question of the film.

There is no overt reason to fear these kids, but there is something slightly off about them, and not just in how they act, but how they speak as well.  It's empty, in a way.  I will not spoil the ending, but I will say that it flips the element of pedophobia on its head to leave one asking who exactly is pulling the strings in this haunted house.   

Released a year after Psycho, The Innocents also marks the point in time when horror films began to enter the "modern" era.  Already here some modern elements can be seen, such as the use of more atmospheric music, and more psychological horror elements.  There is a lot going on in The Innocents, and plenty to dissect with repeated viewings.   

31 Days of Halloween: Day 21

The Uninvited (1944) Director:  Lewis Allen

I'm not gonna lie.  I blind bought this movie because I think the Criterion box art is amazing.  At the very least, I thought I would enjoy looking at it on my shelf.  I also later found out that Martin Scorsese listed The Uninvited as one of the 11 scariest movies of all time.  Well if Martin Scorsese says that it's scary, then it's gotta be, right!? 

Eh, not really. 


I don't know why, but for some reason many critics and directors often say scenes of movies or entire movies themselves are terrifying, but there is no way that they could actually believe that. 

I call bull shit. 

I don't quite understand it.  Part of me thinks that they are just going along with the "horror canon," and will say a movie is scary because it's supposed to be scary, or whatever.  No one else, that is people on the internet, thinks it's scary so I doubt that some of these other guys are being sincere in their assessments.  Of The Uninvited Scorsese has this to say:

Another, more benign haunted house picture, set in England, no less atmospheric than The Haunting—the tone is very delicate, and the sense of fear is woven into the setting, the gentility of the characters.

Mk.

I once saw a documentary about gangster films, and good old Marty was one of the filmmakers who were interviewed.  In it he discusses one gangster film and how it was so great for not showing the violence, instead leaving it to the imagination.  I laughed to myself when he quickly noted that he was not "skillful" enough to do the same.  He's acting like someone who broke his dad's school record, but is making up excuses as to why it doesn't count, and his dad is still great.  Of all the people to talk about violence in gangster movies...

Right.

So in case you couldn't guess, I didn't find The Uninvited to be scary, although I certainly wasn't surprised by that.  The problem with some of these older films, when it comes to producing scares, is not in the visuals, but the sound.  When a classical Hollywood soundtrack with sweeping strings began to play I almost started to chuckle.  With that playing in the background there is no way this can be scary.  Horror comes from atmosphere, and having some sort of romantic music playing can only destroy it.  The most effective scenes are the ones where there is no music at all, instead only ambient sounds.

Aside from the fact that the film isn't scary (clear yet?), the film is rather quite good.  The story is classic and is archetypical by now.  A brother and sister purchase a big, old house at a great price and soon discover that it is haunted.  The two then investigate the haunting, and what is it that the ghost(s) want.  The mystery is played at well and has been copied numerous times since 1944.  Anyone familiar with haunted house or ghost movies can probably guess the major turning points in the final act, but that doesn't make the movie any less enjoyable.  Of other haunted house movies, The Changeling (1979) perhaps bears the greatest resemblance to The Uninvited.

The cinematography and special effects are the real stars of this film.  Visually, the film sets up a terrific atmosphere with strong use of darkness, with faint light offered only by candles.  The ghost effects are also impressive, and don't look cheep or dated in the least. 

If you have a low tolerance for scary movies then The Uninvited is the perfect movie for you.  The story is well told and interesting, and the classic haunted house vibe is easy to become immersed in.  Plus, the Criterion box art is beautiful.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 20

The Sixth Sense (1999) Direct: M. Night Shyamalan

 

I don't remember how old I was at the time, but back in the day Bravo played this TV special that was the countdown of the 100 Scariest Movie Moments.  The program was pretty terrible and it was vague as to what was consider a "moment."  At times it was a single scene, when others it seemed like they were talking about the entire movie.  "Moments" was just a gimmick to separate Bravo's list from all of the others, but I wish they would have at least carried through with it.  The list was also filled with spoilers.  As I watched it the began to talk about The Sixth Sense, and blasto, they gave away the ending.  From that point I decided I had no interest in watching the movie, since I knew the ending.

That ended, obviously.  I'm going to talk about the ending now, so if you somehow don't know it, then go away.

I see...well, you know.

People would tell me that The Sixth Sense is still worth watching if I know the twist because, "it's fun to see how it's hinted at throughout the movie."  Oh, okay, sort of like Fight Club (1999).  Then five minutes into the movie, Bruce Willis gets shot.  Oh, okay, like the hint where Bruce Willis just dies?  How did I miss that the first time?  I'm curious if I could have guessed the ending even if I hadn't known it.

Other than that whole spoiler, twist ending thing, The Sixth Sense is a fun movie.  I wouldn't say it's anything special, but it's certainly fun.  The film is currently ranked 89th on AFI's top 100 movies list, which is a complete joke, and further goes to show that that list is garbage.  This isn't one of the top 1000 American movies, let alone 89th.  Sheesh. 

The whole things bleeds basic filmmaking.  There is nothing exceptional about Shyamalan's directing, or even the story, for that matter.  It's sort of interesting, but unfortunately when one starts to think about the details and question things, it kind of begins to crumble a bit. 

For example:

1. Why can't the dead know their dead, other for the fact that that point needs to be there for the twist ending to make sense?
2. If the don't know their dead, then what are the people hanging thinking?
3. So wait, why do some ghosts hurt Cole?  It never seems like any of the ones we see are threatening at all.
4. How can ghosts physically interact with some things, but not others?
5. How does Cole know his teacher used to stutter?  Did a ghost tell him?  A friendly one who just talks to Cole?
6. If ghosts don't know they're dead, then how come that little girl lead Cole to find a tape that showed how she died?
7. Cracked talks about the ending also. 

All in all, this is a good popcorn flick, but nothing special.  Of the three films Shyamalan has made, I would rank this third, with Unbreakable (2000) at number one, and Signs (2002) at two.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 18

Three... Extremes (2004) Directors: Fruit Chan, Park Chan-wook, Takashi Miike

From Roger Ebert's review:

"Three... Extremes" collects directors from Hong Kong, Korea, and Japan to make horror films, each about 40 minutes long. ...and by horror I don't mean the Hollywood routine of shock, blood and special effects. These films are deeply, profoundly creepy.

Dumplings opens the trio of terror, and is directed by the Hong Konger, Fruit Chan.  Of the three, this one hits the gut the hardest.  I would strongly advise that you not have any food near you while watching it, because you will feel sick, and possibly want to vomit. 

The story follows a former actress who wants to appear youthful once again in order to win back the appeal of her husband.  To do so, she ventures to a woman who makes special dumplings that are rumored to do just that.  "Don't think about what's in them," says the cook at one point.  Naturally, we think of what could be in them.  By the end you wish you hadn't done so.

The film has a sort of slimy, and slippery texture to it, in addition to "squishy" sounds that go straight for the stomach. 

Wait, what's in them?

Next up is Chan-wook Park's, Cut.  Of the three, this is the weakest entry in Three... Extremes, which is a shame because Park is generally the most highly regarded filmmaker of the group.  Cut is about a horror director who is kidnapped, along with his wife, by a man who is jealous of the fact that this director has everything he could want, and on top of that is a good person.  The kidnapper, on the other hand, has nothing, and is a bad person.  What follows is the kidnapper trying to make the director do something to make him a bad person too. 

Cut is the loudest, and most bombastic of the three, featuring long takes with complicated camera movements.  The whole thing felt maybe a little too political.  Park seemed more focus on making a statement than making a film here.  The morality play is nothing original, and there isn't that much that is scary here.  Still, it's by no means bad.

Miike's Box is without question the best of the three, and reason enough to watch Three... Extremes.  It is also the most complex, as well as the most subtle and quiet.  It's as if Ozu and Kieślowski had a baby on an Indian burial ground, and it then made a movie.

An author has recurring nightmares about her sister and the circumstances behind her death.  While younger the both of them were circus performers, working for their father.  They could bend into different shapes and even fit into tiny boxes.  Their father would then throw a dart at each box and they would open to reveal flowers.  What is real and what is imagined is never made explicitly clear, although the ending seems to reveal the truth, but this may be just more fantasy.

The pacing is slow, and there is little dialogue.  Instead cinematography and gentle camera movements reveal the mystery of Box.  There is a strong blue motif to the film, which is sharply contrasted with red in some of the dreams.  The blue has its origin in a blue jeweled necklace, but extends to the cold of the air, and the clothes of the older author.  Box does not aim to slowly reveal its secrets to the audience, instead it opts to reveal even more mystery.  Little is shown in terms of standard horror, and who exactly is the monster is left ambiguous.  The horror seems to then be the ambiguity of people.

 

Three... Extremes is not scary in the traditional sense of the word, but all the three films that comprise it are unsettling in their own unique way.  They create an itch rather than a sore. 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 17 & 19

I missed two days.  I failed, whatever, I was busy.  Will still continue watching horror films.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 16

One Missed Call (2003) Director: Takashi Miike

Takashi Miike is one of the most exciting filmmakers working today.  The level to which he is both prolific and eclectic has no rival in the history of the industry.  In 2001 and 2002 alone, he directed a staggering fifteen projects, and has worked in genres from wacky family comedies, to period pieces, to horror.  What is perhaps most unbelievable is the fact that he is not simply a man of impressive statistics.  Even with this extreme output, he is able to craft great films in each of these diverse genres.

The Happiness of the Katakuris (2002) is a bit of a fan favorite, combining horror, family comedy, musical elements, and claymation, all in a single film.  It's one of the most ridiculous movies one could ever see.  The trailer alone is worth experiencing.

Then there is the epic samurai film, 13 Assassins (2011).  Directed with an impressive level of discipline, 13 Assassins follows a group of samurai who seek to kill an evil ruler during Japans feudal period.  The characters are well rounded, and the action scenes are coherent, unlike many action films today.  The battles are not created in the editing room, but instead use longer shots and complex choreography.  It's also really bad ass.

Miike is probably best known for his work in the horror genre, most notably his film Audition (1999).  Here Miike established himself as a filmmaker who is unrelenting in the content he will show on camera.  He has since become legendary for the level of violence in some of his pictures.  When I finally saw Audition I was rather disappointed in how tame the violence was, but I was extremely impressed in how great the actual film was.  Definitely check it out, if you haven't already. 

Now for One Missed Call.  The premise is as follows: you receive a voice mail from the future that is a recording of your own death.  At the time from which the voice mail is from, the phone's owner then dies.  Like many other Japanese horror films of the period, this one focuses on some sort of technology as the deliverer of terror.

The story itself is rather bland, and the mystery being investigated is not all that interesting.  In fact, quickly into the film most will probably notice how similar to Ringu (1998) it is.  Almost all of the same beats are hit at the same time, especially when it gets into the third act.  Does this make One Missed Call a bad film?

Sec, let me check if dad called me, or the evil ghost.

On a story level, this is one to skip.  If you're looking for story, then watch Ringu.  However, Miike's directing really saves the day with this film, because while the story may be unoriginal, One Missed Call is at least scary.  While watching this for the first time, I was questioning if I should turn if off because I was getting so scared.  Most of the plot points may be predictable, but that doesn't make the final moments in an abandoned hospital any less scary.

Miike's uses shadows effectively, and teases at something more horrific happening, although nothing ever really comes.  The result is a extended span of constant tension as viewers anxiously await for something to jump out.  Also, in classic Miike fashion, there are many elements of the final moments that are straight up strange.  For seemingly no reason, there is a scene were jars with fetuses are pushed into the hallway, and the actual ending is puzzling, to say the least.

While One Missed Call could be perceived as "just another J-horror film with a creepy little girl," it still offers a fair share of scares, even if the story is nothing new or special.  It's certainly worth looking into if you want to have trouble falling asleep.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 15

Noroi: The Curse (2005) Director: Kōji Shiraishi

As a general rule, I hate found footage movies.  I think they are cheap, lack creativity, are cash-ins, and boring.  The Blair Witch Project (1999) is one of my least favorite movies of all time, and I even turned it off because I grew tired of watching people scream at the sky.  There are, however, exceptions to the rule.  I have not yet seen Cannibal Holocaust (1979), so I can't comment on it, but the Spanish horror film [REC] (2007) is fantastic, and has one of the scariest final 15 minutes of any film.  Noroi is another exception, offering quality chills in addition to an intriguing story and complex narrative structure.

Noroi is a fake documentary about a fake documentary, which is then about a documentarion investigating paranormal activities.  The structure is rather complex, with footage framed within footage, within footage.  The documentarion who stars in the film, Masafumi Kobayashi, is shown watching clips he has found or captured and the audience is often times shown the same scenes multiple times, but at different speeds and zooms.  This level of complexity immediately differentiates this film from others of the sub-genre.  It often times reveals things not visible before, making for some scary moments.

One scene follows a women on a TV show, where she and two others are walking around in the woods.  She hears something and feels eyes watching, but we don't see anything.  It turns out the first time we saw this footage it had been censored.  The full version reveals that one can see a figure standing in the distance behind the group for a split moment.

What was that?

Noroi succeeds in the same way [REC] does in creating horror with a found footage film.  Found footage films are not scary because people think they are real.  People who think they are real are stupid, and they can be scared with a paper bag.  I remember seeing Paranormal Activity (2007) in the theater, and some dense girl saying afterwards, "there's no way that's real!"  You think so?  Anyway, found footage films can be effective if the filmmakers focus on what makes these films unique, which is limited perspective.

By the very nature that a film is "found footage" that indicates that there is, in fact, someone behind the camera, and we are not simply looking into some mysterious window into a world.  If there is just one person behind the camera, and often times only one camera being used, then the film is unable to cut around to the best shot of the action.  As an audience, we are at the mercy of the camera operator, and can see only what he or she sees.  If the camera operator gets knocked down with the camera, then we can only see the ground, and people's feet running.

This creates a unique tension in films like Noroi and [REC], where we are like Joaquin Phoenix in Signs (2002), when he yells at the kids to get out of the way of the camera.  We are limited in what we can see, so there is a constant fear of what is on the edge of the frame, like being scared of what is just around the corner.  We know that what we ware seeing is not the whole picture, thus making what is unseen just as frightening as any monster.  

Noroi is a chilling movie from start to finish and never goes for flashy moments that undermine the rest of the story.  Paranormal Activity's ending seemed out of place and inconsistent with the rest of the film, while Noroi always stays true to the style and tone established.  The ending is mildly bombastic, but enough had been established throughout the rest of the film so that it felt "natural."  This is an extremely eerie movie, and one of the best of its genre.   

31 Days of Halloween: Day 14

Marebito (2004) Director: Takashi Shimizu

There is never a point while watching Marebito where I know what is going on.  At every moment that the film appears to be revealing answers, even more questions are spawned.  The audience is not just taken into the mind of a madman, but a sane man trying (successfully) to lose his mind.  Some of what happens must be real, but then other parts seem completely impossible.  But the point of Marebito is not to be understood, it is an exercise in terror, in its most stripped down form.

I first came across Marebito while browsing the DVD selection at my local video game store when I was in high school.  I'm not sure why I decided to buy it.  Perhaps it was because its directed by the same fellow who made The Grudge (2004), or perhaps I was attracted to the fact that the DVD stated that the film is part of the 'Tartan Asian Extreme Collection."  Seeing the word, "Extreme" is always enticing.  Regardless of why I picked up this seemingly random movie, I watched soon after, and it freaked me out.  I didn't watch it again until last night, and low and behold, it had the same effect on me.

Marebito follows a videographer, named Masuoka, who records a man killing himself with a knife, and then goes on a search to find what caused this guy to stab himself.  What he finds is a load of really, really weird stuff.  To say anymore would ruin the fun of watching the film, so I won't give any more details.

The film is more about tone than plot, anyway.  The story makes little sense, but that doesn't matter because Shimizu's own ambitions in making the film mirrors that of Masuoka.  Masuoka, played by famed Japanese horror director, Shin'ya Tsukamoto, is searching for the source of terror in the eyes of the man as he took his own life.  He is on a quest to discover this pure terror, and the secrets behind it.  Shimizu, too, seems to be searching for how to terrify an audience on a most raw and basic level.  The film only focuses on how to create this tension and atmosphere to truly terrify the viewer.

Is he successful? 

As I have repeatedly stated, this is a difficult film to comprehend, which is what makes it scary.  By constantly keeping the audience at arms length, unable to understand the world of the film, there is nothing specific that is the focus of horror in the film.  Like Cure (1997), there is no Bogey Man.  When a film has no Bogey Man, then one can't say after watching it, "there is no such thing as the Bogey Man."  Instead, one is left with their imagination to create in their mind something menacing in the bump of the night.  Since Marebito is not grounded in reality, there is no way to excuse it as not being possible or real, for there is not attempt at that within the film itself.  The film goes straight for the viewer's instincts in order to conjure fear.

Much of Marebito's effect comes from its use of sound.  Infrasound is used often, as is eerie, atmospheric music.  Most unsettling, though, is the use of blood sound effects.  Specifically, blood dripping and being sucked...  These scenes are the ones that got to me the most.  It was the sound that was bothering me, and yet I still had trouble looking at the screen during these moments.

Marebito has an extremely slow first half, and an averagely slow second half.  It's certainly not a horror film for everyone, especially those who are impatient and are uninterested in exploring something strange and different.  The film was shot in only eight days, between Shimizu making Ju-on (2002) and The Grudge.  The freedom he shows here in experimentation is evident, and may have only been possible in such a rushed production.  It's a good demonstration of ignoring pretty effects and colorful cinematography to instead opt for something that goes for a direct effect on its audience.  I think it succeeds at doing so.   

31 Days of Halloween: Day 13

Ringu (1998) Director: Hideo Nakata

I was in elementary school and everyone was talking about this new movie that was supposed to be the scariest thing ever.  And it was PG-13, so we were all allowed to watch it!  I was late to hop on the bandwagon, but when I finally saw The Ring (2002) I was traumatized.  I couldn't go in my basement, take a shower, or go anywhere in the dark without fearing a little girl would come out of nowhere and get me.  The Ring probably scared me more than any other single movie.

The 2002 film is an American remake of the 1998 Japanese original, Ringu (pronounced "Ring").  It didn't get a wide release in the States until after the American film came out.  Because of that, it was mostly advertised as, "even scarier than the American version!" or, "the original movie that inspired The Ring," as my DVD case states.

The two films actually complement each other rather well, I think.  Each has their own strengths, in terms of scares, and their own weaknesses.  They're a good duo of terror.  The biggest issue with the remake is it's overuse of now-dated CGI in some of its scenes.  It looks fake today, so the fear factor is greatly diminished.  On the other hand, the remake has some interestingly strange scenes that the Japanese version does not, such as the fly coming out of the TV screen, and the horse killing itself.  These small bits really add to the atmosphere of the American version, and this atmosphere is what makes the audience so vulnerable to the chilling ending.

The Japanese version's ending is better, however.  Using practical effects instead of CGI makes it look much creepier by today's standards, and essentially has a timeless quality to it.  The original is also more focused, and elaborates more clearly on the back story of the video tape.  The video tape itself, is rather different in both films, but are each creepy in their own way.

So I guess I should maybe talk about the story.

I will also be talking about the original only from now on.

There is this mysterious video tape, that after watching it, the viewer receives a phone call saying he or she will day in seven days.  A news reporters watches it, and must figure out the secret of the tape so that she may be able to save her life.

The film does a good job of slowly giving the audience information about the video tape.  Keeping us constantly on the edge of our seat, anxiously waiting for a new secret to be revealed.  The horror in Ringu comes much from what we do not know.  It is the mystery that is scary.  And the residue of fear is that from the questions left open and unanswered.

Why do people die after watching this tape?  Where did it come from?  Holy shit, did she just!?!?

I won't give any specific spoilers to those who haven't seen either film yet, but I will now discuss the ending a little.  I believe the ending has an interesting undertone to it, and is one that is relevant to today's news.  It seems like the ending is suggesting a sort of virus, and people consciously spreading it to others.  The late 90s and 2000s saw a large number of horror films focusing on the fear of getting sick, and the world's phobia of a virus wiping us all out.  I think Ringu is about a virus that we ourselves are spreading, hoping others get sick, while we don't. 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 12

Cure (1997) Director: Kiyoshi Kurosawa

Up until now I have only briefly touched on the quality of the scares in the horror films I have watched.  That is because I don't find any of the previously discussed films to be actually scary.  This seems to be an odd irony of horror film buffs in general; very few of them seem to actually be scared by movies.  I often hear people who love horror movies say, "movies don't scare me," and so on.  On the one hand, this does make sense.  Why would you watch something that you find unpleasant?  But at the same time, I'm always searching for a movie that will actually spook me.  When watching a horror film for the first time, I always do it alone, at night, with the lights off.  It needs to be the scariest environment possible.  A friend once asked me why I do that, to which I responded, "it's like eating spicy food."  I think that makes sense.

With all of that said, there is one sub-genre that has been repeatedly remarked by folks across the internet as the one that is actually scary.  That is, Asian horror films (more specifically, East Asian).  It's difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is, but Asian film directors have a tendency to create films that are truly horrifying.  The films of this region tend to be more psychological than Western horror films, and even when ghosts and gore is used, its effect still comes from a psychological angle.  The result, are movies that don't so much as make you scream, but instead leave you shivering.  Asian films, unlike Western horror films, don't really use jump scares, the oh-so-easy way to get a reaction from an audience.  Quiet followed by a loud noise.  Any dunce with a camera can do that. 

J-Horror

The Japanese in particular have received much attention for their horror films, mostly due to the American remakes of Ringu (1998) and Ju-on: The Grudge (2002).  And I chose to begin my week of Asian horror with a film by Kiyoshi Kurosawa (no relation to Akira Kurosawa). 

Starting in the 1960s, the Japanese film industry began to enter a free fall, with the rise of television leading to a sharp decline in movie theater attendance.  The industry hit rock bottom in the late 1980s, with only a few of the major studios managing to stay in business.  Then in the 1990s, the industry began to have a sort of rebirth.  Even with the economic rescission going on, the new independent industry that emerged thanks to video tape and other means, brought about a new breed of young filmmakers.  Some of these directors include: Takeshi Kitano, Hirokazu Koreeda, Takashi Miike, and Kiyoshi Kurosawa.  Keep in mind that I'm only discussing live action here, and not the many great anime directors that were also working at this time.  In addition to the rebirth of the Yakuza genre with Kitano, Japanese horror films grew increasingly more popular. 

During the summers of both Japan and Korea, horror films and shows screen constantly on television because when one is scared, their body temperature decreases.  A nice comfy way to deal with the heat.  Even before television, however, the Japanese have had a knack for creating terrifying monsters.  Take for example, Oshiroibaba.  According to IO9, this demon woman is:

an old crone that goes around asking girls if they'd like to try some of her face powder, like the world's creepiest Avon lady. Taking make-up from strangers is bad idea in general, and taking it from old ladies is even dumber, because the Oshirobaba's powder makes your face fall off.

This is what she looks like:

Then there is the now popular Onryō, or vengeful spirit.  They have existed in Japanese folklore for more than a thousand years, but became popular in the mainstream after one was featured in The Ring (2002), as the little girl with long black hair.  I was actually an Onryō for Halloween one year.

This is what I looked like:

Ladies?

Another interesting quality of the Japanese film industry of the 1990s, is how many of the filmmakers that were emerging returned to a more "traditional" form of filmmaking.  Unlike Western filmmakers in the early 20th century, who saw film as a new form of photography, the Japanese saw it as a new form of theater.  As such, the film tradition of Japan evolved from a presentational style, rather than a representational one.  Japanese theater such as Kabuki, Bunraku, and Noh, have a deliberately staged quality to them.  There is no effort to hide stagehands, or other elements that indicate to the audience that what they are seeing is being constructed before them, and is not reality. 

This translated into films in many different ways.  Notable examples include the films of Ozu and Mizoguchi, who each have a "traditional" aesthetic.  The filmmakers of the 1990s returned to this idea of tradition in many different forms.  From Kitano's still camera to Miyazaki's Princess Mononoke (1997) focusing on the primitive people vs. the industrialized ones.  One explanation for this return to the traditional may have been the recession.  Frustrated with the negative side-effects of Western capitalism, many Japanese wanted to return to their roots.

In terms of horror, one significant event of the decade was the Tokyo subway sarin attack.  In 1995, sarin was released in the Subway system, killing 13 people.  Sarin is both colorless and odorless, and the attack created much hysteria in the nation.  Which brings us to Cure.

Cure

Cure follows a detective named Takabe, who is investigating a strange string of murders that are connected by the fact that each of the victims has an "X" carved into their throat and chest.  However, the strange part is each of the murderers has been found at the scene of the crime, and fully confessed to it, but without any memory of certain details.  How are these crimes actually connected then? 

The way in which the sarin gas relates is that even though the bad guy/monster is revealed early in the film, his motives and means of committing his crimes are never fully explained.  It is an "invisible" mystery.  The murders come from seemingly nowhere.

Cure is a rather ingenious film, and Kurosawa practices a laudable level of patience in telling his story.  At first the film plays like a straight mystery thriller.  Nothing special.  Feels and looks like Se7en (1995) or The Silence of the Lambs (1991).  Meaning, it is not actually a horror film, but stands on the blurred in-between area of thriller and horror.  When the monster is revealed early in the film, I was frankly disappointed.  "So much for the mystery," I thought.  Then about 2/3 of the way through the movie Takabe and a psychiatrist are watching an old film on a television screen, and I realized that I was completely terrified.  What was it along the way that scared me so much?

The horror takes shape gradually over the course of the narrative, and there are never any loud or extravagant set-pieces.  The camera always keeps its distance from the action, especially the murders, and presents most of what's on screen in a rather matter of fact way.  Kurosawa frequently uses subtle long takes, with gentle camera movement in a way so that something small in the background grabs our interest, but there is never any bombastic indication that something serious is happening. 

For example, one shot has Takabe in the foreground thinking to himself, while a character behind him walks into his room and turns on a light.  Something is revealed with this light, but there is no music cue to indicate the reveal.  It just happens.  The effect is rather than a sudden jolt in our system, something instead slowly creeps up within us, and the feeling takes a long time to go away.

By the film's conclusion I felt completely creeped out, but I had almost no idea as to why.  There is nothing to be explicitly scared of in Cure.  There is no Bogey Man, so to speak.  Yes, there is a crazy guy in the movie, but it is not really him that scares the audience.  After watching Cure I went to bed and every small sound in my apartment felt in my mind like something that was going to get me.  What exactly was going to get me?  I don't know.  Like the sarin, the horror can't be seen, it can only be felt.  The horror in Cure is not a man, but an idea. 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 11

An American Werewolf in London (1981) Director: John Landis

An American Werewolf in London is best known for containing the Citizen Kane of werewolf transformation scenes.  Aside from the stunning special makeup effects, the film has a well told and witty werewolf tale that combines scares with laughs.  It works within many of the werewolf conventions, and plays it straight, while also mocking other staples of the genre like needing to use a silver bullet to kill the monster.  It is certainly more enjoyable for those who are well versed in the sub-genre, but the film is good enough on its own terms so that anyone can have fun watching it.

Just to get it out of the way; yes, this movie has an amazing werewolf transformation, and in my opinion the best.  Long before CGI became a way to make movies look fake, effects master Rick Baker created the Oscar winning effects that were composed of makeup, robotics, and prosthetics, to create a believably painful transformation into a monster.  John Landis challenged Baker by stating that he wanted the scene to be shot in harsh lighting, without any shadows, so as to remove any qualms about the reality on screen.  Baker met the challenge head on and made history.

Hmmm.

At the film's core is a story of adolescence.  Growing body hair and raging hormones are represented by a man turning into a wolf and eating people.  This actually makes sense.  The first conversation is between our hero David and his best friend Jack, about the latter wanting to have sex with a hot girl.  From there we have David's own relationship with the beautiful Nurse Price, which develops at typical movie pace; which is to say in five minutes.  One night of lovemaking with the nurse and blasto!  He's a man/wolf.

The film's pace is pretty rapid and it feels much shorter than 97 minutes, which is a good thing.  We all know what's going on with David, but it is still interesting to see the other characters investigating his illness and the attack from the first werewolf.  David's relationship with the undead Jack is also entertaining, and where much of the films dark humor comes from.

You gonna eat that toast?

David constantly questions his own sanity, and appropriately exclaims after one series of nightmares, "holy shit!"  The actual transformation is withheld just long enough to make the audience question for a small moment that he may actually be insane and this is all in his head.  This gives the first act plenty of momentum as we anxiously wait to see what will happen to David.

Landis believes that he showed the monster too much, while Baker thinks it wasn't shown enough.  I think it was in the film for just enough.  For being a just puppet, the wolf always comes off as real and has a weight to it.  While the effects may steal the show, we care as an audience because we know that beneath the monster is a person.