“Priest” Movie Review

Directed by Scott Stewart, Written by Cory Goodman and Min-Woo Hyung (comic book), 87 minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matt Schimkowitz

Here’s the pitch: Based on a Korean comic book, a group of humanoid, non-Pattinson-like vampires attack a steam-punk, western village, forcing a Vampire-hunting priest out of retirement in 3D. You can fill in the holes from there.

While the idea of an ass-kicking, vampire-slaying preacher may be an easy sell for some, without any sense of fun or fear, “Priest,” the bearer of the aforementioned pitch, falls limply to the ground.

To fill in the gaps, Paul Beatney stars as said priest, one of the final members of an ancient order charged with keeping the vampire population at bay. Yet, after successfully throwing the last of the fanged menaces in prison, the clergy, in all their infinite, Big Brother-like wisdom, casts the priests back into society without a whim. So, when the vampires return to kidnap Beatney’s daughter, Priest hops on his steam-powered motorbike and heads into the desert.

There’s very little life to “Priest,” with each conflict seemingly more disinterested in entertaining the audience than the last. One half of this has to do with the looming threat of the Orwellian clergy, which controls the drones of the film’s steam punk cities. The clergy doesn’t want their top assassin to investigate a nearby, suspiciously vampire-like attack for some reason. Why even include this into the story, if, in the end, it has no bearing on or threat to the overall narrative? The other half is the boring pursuit of Beatney’s daughter.

Beatney doesn’t seem as confused as the audience does, but that doesn’t mean he makes for an engaging star. Certainly excelling in the physical necessities of the film, the actor can’t strike an emotional chord with either his daughter or his forbidden love interest, Priestess (Maggie Q). The film’s attempts at one-liners and humor fall even flatter, as the gloomy, moist interiors absorb each quip like a sponge.

There’s not much to “Priest” that engages the audience. Aside from some fireworks, Urban appears to be the only one having a good time with the material, but as the villain, he’s allowed to. Still, it’s hard to get behind the hero, when he has no interesting qualities. In fact, all those explosions and expository conversations kept a well-behaved infant, whom I observed entering theater with their father at the show’s beginning, sleeping comfortably throughout the film’s 87 minutes. If you have an action movie that doesn’t have enough loud, wham-bam, explosive fun to wake a sleeping baby, then you, my friend, have an action movie not worth seeing.

Grade: D

“Priest” Movie Review

Directed by Scott Stewart, Written by Cory Goodman and Min-Woo Hyung (comic book), 87 minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matt Schimkowitz

Here’s the pitch: Based on a Korean comic book, a group of humanoid, non-Pattinson-like vampires attack a steam-punk, western village, forcing a Vampire-hunting priest out of retirement in 3D. You can fill in the holes from there.

While the idea of an ass-kicking, vampire-slaying preacher may be an easy sell for some, without any sense of fun or fear, “Priest,” the bearer of the aforementioned pitch, falls limply to the ground.

To fill in the gaps, Paul Beatney stars as said priest, one of the final members of an ancient order charged with keeping the vampire population at bay. Yet, after successfully throwing the last of the fanged menaces in prison, the clergy, in all their infinite, Big Brother-like wisdom, casts the priests back into society without a whim. So, when the vampires return to kidnap Beatney’s daughter, Priest hops on his steam-powered motorbike and heads into the desert.

There’s very little life to “Priest,” with each conflict seemingly more disinterested in entertaining the audience than the last. One half of this has to do with the looming threat of the Orwellian clergy, which controls the drones of the film’s steam punk cities. The clergy doesn’t want their top assassin to investigate a nearby, suspiciously vampire-like attack for some reason. Why even include this into the story, if, in the end, it has no bearing on or threat to the overall narrative? The other half is the boring pursuit of Beatney’s daughter.

Beatney doesn’t seem as confused as the audience does, but that doesn’t mean he makes for an engaging star. Certainly excelling in the physical necessities of the film, the actor can’t strike an emotional chord with either his daughter or his forbidden love interest, Priestess (Maggie Q). The film’s attempts at one-liners and humor fall even flatter, as the gloomy, moist interiors absorb each quip like a sponge.

There’s not much to “Priest” that engages the audience. Aside from some fireworks, Urban appears to be the only one having a good time with the material, but as the villain, he’s allowed to. Still, it’s hard to get behind the hero, when he has no interesting qualities. In fact, all those explosions and expository conversations kept a well-behaved infant, whom I observed entering theater with their father at the show’s beginning, sleeping comfortably throughout the film’s 87 minutes. If you have an action movie that doesn’t have enough loud, wham-bam, explosive fun to wake a sleeping baby, then you, my friend, have an action movie not worth seeing.

Grade: D

"Scream 4" Movie Review

Directed by Wes Craven, Written by Kevin Williamson, 106 minutes, Rated R.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

By the time the “Scream” saga crash landed into its third part, the magic was all but gone, as the series lost sight of what made it worth watching in the first place – deconstruct the scares, while continuing to use them. In the first two films, Director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson proved they could sustain this balancing act, but only for so long, finding their once strong premise hacked to bits, like so many teenagers, by part three.

Well, it’s a decade a later and not much has changed.

Sydney Prescott (Neve Campbell) returns the small town that made her the most famous victim in the meta-world in “Scream 4,” and a new horror film-obsessed serial killer is waiting for her. This springs former reporter and uninspired writer Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox) and her goofy husband Sheriff Dewey (David Arquette) into action, looking for another mystery to solve. But since they are a bit old for this type of thing, Ghostface casts Sydney’s teenage cousin Jill (Emma Roberts) to star in the remake of Sydney’s horrors.

Much of “Scream 4” seems inevitable. Williamson has some fun with the idea of remakes and found footage; once again, deconstructing the conventions of modern horror – after all, the rules have changed. As such, Craven seems equally adept in recreating the look of the original film, showing, yet again, some of the most seamless directing of his career. However, while “Scream” dealt with rules Craven helped standardize, he struggles to make the new ones scary. And there in lies the problem: “Scream 4” never seems as interested in utilizing the new form as much as it is in talking about it.

Craven has trouble linking all these new rules, which are lot less stable than the '80s slasher, to his cast. This split even appears in the script when Williamson’s characters complain about the lack of character development. Craven’s film is no different. There’s little left to say about Sydney Prescott and even less to say about these new victims. Ghostface, too, gets a raw deal, and the killer gets the Freddy treatment, focusing more heavily on catchphrases and puns than actually getting the job done. As a result, despite some clever observations, the film resembles the very thing it so frequently scoffs at: A lifeless slasher.

As a remake, “Scream 4” is clever in its execution, poking fun at the genre’s lack of originality and the desire to get something for nothing. But amidst the jabs at newfangled horror, there lies distinct feeling that we’ve seen this all before with much more frightening results.

Grade: C

"Scream 4" Movie Review

Directed by Wes Craven, Written by Kevin Williamson, 106 minutes, Rated R.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

By the time the “Scream” saga crash landed into its third part, the magic was all but gone, as the series lost sight of what made it worth watching in the first place – deconstruct the scares, while continuing to use them. In the first two films, Director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson proved they could sustain this balancing act, but only for so long, finding their once strong premise hacked to bits, like so many teenagers, by part three.

Well, it’s a decade a later and not much has changed.

Sydney Prescott (Neve Campbell) returns the small town that made her the most famous victim in the meta-world in “Scream 4,” and a new horror film-obsessed serial killer is waiting for her. This springs former reporter and uninspired writer Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox) and her goofy husband Sheriff Dewey (David Arquette) into action, looking for another mystery to solve. But since they are a bit old for this type of thing, Ghostface casts Sydney’s teenage cousin Jill (Emma Roberts) to star in the remake of Sydney’s horrors.

Much of “Scream 4” seems inevitable. Williamson has some fun with the idea of remakes and found footage; once again, deconstructing the conventions of modern horror – after all, the rules have changed. As such, Craven seems equally adept in recreating the look of the original film, showing, yet again, some of the most seamless directing of his career. However, while “Scream” dealt with rules Craven helped standardize, he struggles to make the new ones scary. And there in lies the problem: “Scream 4” never seems as interested in utilizing the new form as much as it is in talking about it.

Craven has trouble linking all these new rules, which are lot less stable than the '80s slasher, to his cast. This split even appears in the script when Williamson’s characters complain about the lack of character development. Craven’s film is no different. There’s little left to say about Sydney Prescott and even less to say about these new victims. Ghostface, too, gets a raw deal, and the killer gets the Freddy treatment, focusing more heavily on catchphrases and puns than actually getting the job done. As a result, despite some clever observations, the film resembles the very thing it so frequently scoffs at: A lifeless slasher.

As a remake, “Scream 4” is clever in its execution, poking fun at the genre’s lack of originality and the desire to get something for nothing. But amidst the jabs at newfangled horror, there lies distinct feeling that we’ve seen this all before with much more frightening results.

Grade: C

"Insidious"

Movie Review

Directed by James Wan, Written by Leigh Whannell, 102 minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

James Wan and Leigh Whannell may have created a monster with the “Saw” films, but they’ve made something truly frightening with “Insidious.” Working off a framework of other haunted house romps, “Insidious” wears its influences on its sleeve, recalling elements of “Poltergeist,” “The Exorcist” and maybe even a little Haunted Mansion ride from Disney world. For all its simplicity, Wan’s film delivers the spine-tingling thrills it aims for and uses all the tricks in the book to do so.

It’s an old story: A young couple moves their family into a new house to start their life together, and almost immediately, things feel off. Books inexplicably fall off shelves, doors slam open and shut, and the things that go bump in the night come out to play. For Josh and Renai, things go from scary to threatening when their son Dalton falls into sudden coma, and his nightmarish drawings become a reality.

Like “Poltergeist” before it, “Insidious” sets up the suburban nightmare perfectly. Josh and Renai’s nuclear family falls apart, when a series of bizarre events haunt their day-to-day lives, challenging their bond and the safety of their family. Wilson and Byrne have a strong chemistry that intensifies their anguish, adding weight to the scares and threats.

Wan offers a different kind of funhouse than the one he tried with “Saw,” presenting simple, classic scares over mindless bloodletting. His framing and sound design build the intensity, earning scares in every scene. Using a little trick photography and a whole lot of smoke, Wan creates a space that is disorienting and open. Characters look small in their surroundings, as off-kilter Easter eggs fill the screen. There’s subtlety to his slower scenes that makes the often quick scares worthwhile and dreadful.

However, as the movie continues and the great Lin Shaye and her team of psychics pop-up, Wan gives in to some of his lesser “Saw”-like interests. The quick cuts and flashbacks don’t fair as well as the dim, ghoulish faces that appear in the mirror. Unfortunately, the more we see of his demons, the less scary they become, dissolving some of the tension in the film’s uneven finale.

For scares alone, “Insidious” deserves an “A.” Wan’s ghoul parade keeps the hits coming, and we’ll leave you shaking long after the movie concludes. But as he struggles to fill the last act with a satisfying conclusion, he resolves on some silly masks, Dutch angles, and annoying edits that ruined the “Saw” movies for everyone but gorehounds. “Insidious” may not be very original, but for a fun trip through a haunted house, it works exceedingly well.

Grade: B+

"Insidious"

Movie Review

Directed by James Wan, Written by Leigh Whannell, 102 minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

James Wan and Leigh Whannell may have created a monster with the “Saw” films, but they’ve made something truly frightening with “Insidious.” Working off a framework of other haunted house romps, “Insidious” wears its influences on its sleeve, recalling elements of “Poltergeist,” “The Exorcist” and maybe even a little Haunted Mansion ride from Disney world. For all its simplicity, Wan’s film delivers the spine-tingling thrills it aims for and uses all the tricks in the book to do so.

It’s an old story: A young couple moves their family into a new house to start their life together, and almost immediately, things feel off. Books inexplicably fall off shelves, doors slam open and shut, and the things that go bump in the night come out to play. For Josh and Renai, things go from scary to threatening when their son Dalton falls into sudden coma, and his nightmarish drawings become a reality.

Like “Poltergeist” before it, “Insidious” sets up the suburban nightmare perfectly. Josh and Renai’s nuclear family falls apart, when a series of bizarre events haunt their day-to-day lives, challenging their bond and the safety of their family. Wilson and Byrne have a strong chemistry that intensifies their anguish, adding weight to the scares and threats.

Wan offers a different kind of funhouse than the one he tried with “Saw,” presenting simple, classic scares over mindless bloodletting. His framing and sound design build the intensity, earning scares in every scene. Using a little trick photography and a whole lot of smoke, Wan creates a space that is disorienting and open. Characters look small in their surroundings, as off-kilter Easter eggs fill the screen. There’s subtlety to his slower scenes that makes the often quick scares worthwhile and dreadful.

However, as the movie continues and the great Lin Shaye and her team of psychics pop-up, Wan gives in to some of his lesser “Saw”-like interests. The quick cuts and flashbacks don’t fair as well as the dim, ghoulish faces that appear in the mirror. Unfortunately, the more we see of his demons, the less scary they become, dissolving some of the tension in the film’s uneven finale.

For scares alone, “Insidious” deserves an “A.” Wan’s ghoul parade keeps the hits coming, and we’ll leave you shaking long after the movie concludes. But as he struggles to fill the last act with a satisfying conclusion, he resolves on some silly masks, Dutch angles, and annoying edits that ruined the “Saw” movies for everyone but gorehounds. “Insidious” may not be very original, but for a fun trip through a haunted house, it works exceedingly well.

Grade: B+

"The Walking Dead"

DVD, Blu-Ray Television Review

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

AMC’s zombie revival “The Walking Dead” may not be perfect, but it sure comes close. The series, spearheaded by writer/director/producer Frank Darabont and adapted from Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore's acclaimed comic series, turns the flooded zombie market on its head, takes the concept seriously, and uses the device to heighten the show’s drama.

"The Walking Dead" follows Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln), a lone sheriff who awakes from a coma during the Zombie Apocalypse. With the world in ruins, Grimes searches the destroyed Atlanta area for his missing family and, along the way, meets the remnants of mankind and deals with their slipping mental states in hopes of finding his wife and child.

Darabont does his best to keep humanity and fright in the living dead. Each zombie retains its human qualities, allowing the characters to wonder who they once were, and thus, sympathize with their attacker. There’s weight in each bullet, as the zombie looks at the survivors with recognition before chowing down on their flesh.

The show has a cast of dozens, including character actor Michael Rooker, who carries one of the show’s best scenes, and Jon Bernthal playing Grimes' partner who, in Frank’s absence, fills the role of husband to Lori Grimes (Sarah Wayne Callies) and father to Frank’s son. This triangle creates an undercurrent of human drama amidst the paranormal threat.

Kirkwood and Moore's story fires on all cylinders, remembering that human struggle makes the genre interesting, not body counts -- although, Darabont doesn't ignore this either, bringing on horror veteran Greg Nicotero to provide the blood. Gruesome? Yes. Exploitative? Not in the slightest. The show uses gore effectively to add to the threat.

It'd be easy to compare "The Walking Dead" to George A. Romero's classics (Dawn of the Dead, Night of the Living Dead). However, the show’s episodic structure and clear focus on character are more akin the plane-crash survivors of “Lost.” Likewise, "The Walking Dead"'s cliffhanger endings, goofier moments and tear-jerker episodes are just as addicting.

Not every episode is a winner, but it's fantastic two-hour pilot and stand out episodes like "Tell it to the Frogs" and "TS-19” create enough great character moments and scares to excite genre and non-genre fans alike. The show keeps the scares and surprises coming, and unlike his contemporaries, Darabont gives life to the living and living-dead, making his vision of doomsday all the more satisfying.

Grade: B+

"The Walking Dead"

DVD, Blu-Ray Television Review

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

AMC’s zombie revival “The Walking Dead” may not be perfect, but it sure comes close. The series, spearheaded by writer/director/producer Frank Darabont and adapted from Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore's acclaimed comic series, turns the flooded zombie market on its head, takes the concept seriously, and uses the device to heighten the show’s drama.

"The Walking Dead" follows Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln), a lone sheriff who awakes from a coma during the Zombie Apocalypse. With the world in ruins, Grimes searches the destroyed Atlanta area for his missing family and, along the way, meets the remnants of mankind and deals with their slipping mental states in hopes of finding his wife and child.

Darabont does his best to keep humanity and fright in the living dead. Each zombie retains its human qualities, allowing the characters to wonder who they once were, and thus, sympathize with their attacker. There’s weight in each bullet, as the zombie looks at the survivors with recognition before chowing down on their flesh.

The show has a cast of dozens, including character actor Michael Rooker, who carries one of the show’s best scenes, and Jon Bernthal playing Grimes' partner who, in Frank’s absence, fills the role of husband to Lori Grimes (Sarah Wayne Callies) and father to Frank’s son. This triangle creates an undercurrent of human drama amidst the paranormal threat.

Kirkwood and Moore's story fires on all cylinders, remembering that human struggle makes the genre interesting, not body counts -- although, Darabont doesn't ignore this either, bringing on horror veteran Greg Nicotero to provide the blood. Gruesome? Yes. Exploitative? Not in the slightest. The show uses gore effectively to add to the threat.

It'd be easy to compare "The Walking Dead" to George A. Romero's classics (Dawn of the Dead, Night of the Living Dead). However, the show’s episodic structure and clear focus on character are more akin the plane-crash survivors of “Lost.” Likewise, "The Walking Dead"'s cliffhanger endings, goofier moments and tear-jerker episodes are just as addicting.

Not every episode is a winner, but it's fantastic two-hour pilot and stand out episodes like "Tell it to the Frogs" and "TS-19” create enough great character moments and scares to excite genre and non-genre fans alike. The show keeps the scares and surprises coming, and unlike his contemporaries, Darabont gives life to the living and living-dead, making his vision of doomsday all the more satisfying.

Grade: B+

"Red Riding Hood"

Movie Review

Directed by Catherine Hardwicke, Written by David Johnson, 100 minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Werewolves and the women who love them are all the rage in shopping malls, bookstores and movie theaters these days, but what "Twilight" director Catherine Hardwicke brings to this retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood" is just plain confusing. Hardwicke baits Twi-hards with the promise of supernatural teen romance but stumbles between her interest in Gothic horror and theatrical drama, with overacting and corsets a-plenty.

Hardwicke’s tale offers a bit more than a walk to Grandma’s house. Here, the wearer of the hood is Valerie, a young girl whose town is the age-old haunt of a local werewolf. For two generations, the villain stalked the village, so the natives bring in Brother Solomon (Gary Oldman), a werewolf hunter and religious fanatic, to vanquish the beast. However, he doesn’t do much to calm things when he informs the citizens that a wolf walks among them.

But that’s not all on Valerie’s plate. Her longtime love affair with Peter (Shiloh Fernandez) comes under fire when her mother sternly encourages a relationship with the wealthier Henry. If that weren’t bad enough, the wolf attacks the town in plain sight and speaks to Valerie, asking her to run away with him. After this brief conversation, Valerie is the subject of a witch-hunt, where she must not only attempt to figure out who’s the wolf, but also clear her sullied name.

Hardwicke dirties the playing field with convoluted mystery and stretches the tale too thin. Valerie’s trials offer so many confusing twists and frustrating dead ends, that her struggle causes vexation not sympathy. The director’s main interest, Valerie’s bourgeoning but oppressed sexuality, appears in overt visual motifs and vain panting. But for every flowing red cape and fiery embrace, there’s another distracting plot device to defuse the passion.

The cast appears equally confused as they move between Gothic romance and ridiculous camp. Each line of David Johnson’s screenplay falls awkwardly from the actors’ lips and hits the ground hard. This causes many unintentionally funny moments and too few dramatic ones. Seyfried and her suitors recite with gusto, yet they never seem too interested. Oldman hams it up and Seyfried stares wantonly at her suitors.

Instead of focusing on the wolf’s deceit, “Red Riding Hood” accidentally shows its own artifice. Against the phony sets and effects, Valerie’s world seems more like a cheap stage rather than an immersive fantasy world, making the film’s own flaws and missed opportunities clear as day even in the dark of night.

Grade: D

"Red Riding Hood"

Movie Review

Directed by Catherine Hardwicke, Written by David Johnson, 100 minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Werewolves and the women who love them are all the rage in shopping malls, bookstores and movie theaters these days, but what "Twilight" director Catherine Hardwicke brings to this retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood" is just plain confusing. Hardwicke baits Twi-hards with the promise of supernatural teen romance but stumbles between her interest in Gothic horror and theatrical drama, with overacting and corsets a-plenty.

Hardwicke’s tale offers a bit more than a walk to Grandma’s house. Here, the wearer of the hood is Valerie, a young girl whose town is the age-old haunt of a local werewolf. For two generations, the villain stalked the village, so the natives bring in Brother Solomon (Gary Oldman), a werewolf hunter and religious fanatic, to vanquish the beast. However, he doesn’t do much to calm things when he informs the citizens that a wolf walks among them.

But that’s not all on Valerie’s plate. Her longtime love affair with Peter (Shiloh Fernandez) comes under fire when her mother sternly encourages a relationship with the wealthier Henry. If that weren’t bad enough, the wolf attacks the town in plain sight and speaks to Valerie, asking her to run away with him. After this brief conversation, Valerie is the subject of a witch-hunt, where she must not only attempt to figure out who’s the wolf, but also clear her sullied name.

Hardwicke dirties the playing field with convoluted mystery and stretches the tale too thin. Valerie’s trials offer so many confusing twists and frustrating dead ends, that her struggle causes vexation not sympathy. The director’s main interest, Valerie’s bourgeoning but oppressed sexuality, appears in overt visual motifs and vain panting. But for every flowing red cape and fiery embrace, there’s another distracting plot device to defuse the passion.

The cast appears equally confused as they move between Gothic romance and ridiculous camp. Each line of David Johnson’s screenplay falls awkwardly from the actors’ lips and hits the ground hard. This causes many unintentionally funny moments and too few dramatic ones. Seyfried and her suitors recite with gusto, yet they never seem too interested. Oldman hams it up and Seyfried stares wantonly at her suitors.

Instead of focusing on the wolf’s deceit, “Red Riding Hood” accidentally shows its own artifice. Against the phony sets and effects, Valerie’s world seems more like a cheap stage rather than an immersive fantasy world, making the film’s own flaws and missed opportunities clear as day even in the dark of night.

Grade: D

"The Resident"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Antti Jokinen, written by Antti Jokinen, Robert Orr and Erin Cressida Wilson, 91 minutes, rated R.

By our guest blogger, Nick Hanover.

It makes perfect sense that "The Resident" is Antti Jokinen's first film after a long career making music videos for the likes of Korn and Celine Dion. What doesn't make so much sense is how he managed to trick such an otherwise talented cast into appearing in this dreck.

"The Resident" is your typical, dull psychological thriller/horror film--hints are dropped often and early about our antagonist, the protagonist is a seemingly weak-willed, maternal young woman and everything is exactly as it seems. The gist is that Max (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and his grandfather, August (Christopher Lee), own a beautiful old apartment building that is in the midst of renovation and therefore, they're offering leases that are literally too good to be true.

Enter Hilary Swank as Dr. Juliet Dermer, a young woman who's fresh out of a long relationship with a guy who cheated on her because she worked too much. In case you didn't know this was a horror film, Dr. Julie likes to explicitly mention to anyone who will listen that she got a deal that was "too good to be true" on her new loft. You know, as if there was some kind of catch to getting a Brooklyn loft with a terrific view for a little under $4000 a month. A catch like, say, a psychotic landlord. Hint hint, nudge nudge.

And since this is Hollywood and no mainstream movie is complete without a romantic angle, Swank's particular psychotic landlord has a crush on her and she at first has a crush on him and for a brief moment it looks like they'll get together. Instead, Swank goes back to her whiny ex who, amazingly, also happens to have been stalking her. There's even a little side story where grandpa August is into Dr. Julie and buys her things and awkwardly hits on her. Because Jokinen thinks we viewers are total idiots, he even tries to trick us into thinking August is the one who's actually sneaking around in Dr. Julie's room at night without her knowledge.

Which, really, would have been a little more interesting. Imagine: this outwardly harmless but still slightly creepy old man, played by Christopher Lee, of course, has been spying on his hot female tenants all these years, building a maze-like infrastructure that doubles as a voyeur's paradise and maybe he's taken his grandson in as his apprentice, so that a new creepy old man can inherit the building. It'd be both lovable and unsettling, a family film if you're family happens to be full of creepy old voyeurs.

Instead, "The Resident" is as dull as an old knife--and half as effective. Jokinen has created a film that's pretty but lifeless, with all the subtlety and tension of a Lifetime original movie and none of the hilarity. Its message seems to be that men are bad, sure, but women are stupid and deserve to be ogled and groped and maybe even raped once or twice for loving them. Morgan in particular gets stuck with a role far below his skillset, though he tries his best to inject it with a little something something. Swank is her usual wooden self and Lee's role is far too minimal for him to even begin to reward us with some scenery chewing. "The Resident" is so bad it's just bad, with none of the camp shenanigans or accidental hilarity you find in movies that are outright fiascos.

If all is right in the universe, the only good that will come out of "The Resident" is its murder of Jokinen's career before it even starts.

Grade: D

The film (*cough*) didn't receive a theatrical release in the States.  Instead, it's being released solely on DVD/Blu-ray on March 29, 2011.

"The Resident"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Antti Jokinen, written by Antti Jokinen, Robert Orr and Erin Cressida Wilson, 91 minutes, rated R.

By our guest blogger, Nick Hanover.

It makes perfect sense that "The Resident" is Antti Jokinen's first film after a long career making music videos for the likes of Korn and Celine Dion. What doesn't make so much sense is how he managed to trick such an otherwise talented cast into appearing in this dreck.

"The Resident" is your typical, dull psychological thriller/horror film--hints are dropped often and early about our antagonist, the protagonist is a seemingly weak-willed, maternal young woman and everything is exactly as it seems. The gist is that Max (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and his grandfather, August (Christopher Lee), own a beautiful old apartment building that is in the midst of renovation and therefore, they're offering leases that are literally too good to be true.

Enter Hilary Swank as Dr. Juliet Dermer, a young woman who's fresh out of a long relationship with a guy who cheated on her because she worked too much. In case you didn't know this was a horror film, Dr. Julie likes to explicitly mention to anyone who will listen that she got a deal that was "too good to be true" on her new loft. You know, as if there was some kind of catch to getting a Brooklyn loft with a terrific view for a little under $4000 a month. A catch like, say, a psychotic landlord. Hint hint, nudge nudge.

And since this is Hollywood and no mainstream movie is complete without a romantic angle, Swank's particular psychotic landlord has a crush on her and she at first has a crush on him and for a brief moment it looks like they'll get together. Instead, Swank goes back to her whiny ex who, amazingly, also happens to have been stalking her. There's even a little side story where grandpa August is into Dr. Julie and buys her things and awkwardly hits on her. Because Jokinen thinks we viewers are total idiots, he even tries to trick us into thinking August is the one who's actually sneaking around in Dr. Julie's room at night without her knowledge.

Which, really, would have been a little more interesting. Imagine: this outwardly harmless but still slightly creepy old man, played by Christopher Lee, of course, has been spying on his hot female tenants all these years, building a maze-like infrastructure that doubles as a voyeur's paradise and maybe he's taken his grandson in as his apprentice, so that a new creepy old man can inherit the building. It'd be both lovable and unsettling, a family film if you're family happens to be full of creepy old voyeurs.

Instead, "The Resident" is as dull as an old knife--and half as effective. Jokinen has created a film that's pretty but lifeless, with all the subtlety and tension of a Lifetime original movie and none of the hilarity. Its message seems to be that men are bad, sure, but women are stupid and deserve to be ogled and groped and maybe even raped once or twice for loving them. Morgan in particular gets stuck with a role far below his skillset, though he tries his best to inject it with a little something something. Swank is her usual wooden self and Lee's role is far too minimal for him to even begin to reward us with some scenery chewing. "The Resident" is so bad it's just bad, with none of the camp shenanigans or accidental hilarity you find in movies that are outright fiascos.

If all is right in the universe, the only good that will come out of "The Resident" is its murder of Jokinen's career before it even starts.

Grade: D

The film (*cough*) didn't receive a theatrical release in the States.  Instead, it's being released solely on DVD/Blu-ray on March 29, 2011.

"The Roommate"

Movie Review

Directed by Christian E. Christiansen, written by Sonny Mallhi, 93 minutes, PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Women in horror are put in a tight spot. With characterizations ranging from the virgin to the harlot, everything surrounds sex and extremes.

The female-heavy slasher "The Roommate" is no exception. Set against the backdrop of a California liberal arts college, "The Roommate" follows two girls as they attempt to fit in at school. More precisely, "The Roommate” follows two girls as they fill out one of two archetypes: The oblivious and the insane.

Fresh from the boring mid-west, Sara Matthews (Minka Kelly) arrives at the Ritz-Carlton of fake colleges--ULA--with a smile on her face and a dream in her heart. Everything is falling into place for this aspiring fashion designer: She has a great new boyfriend, supportive professors and friends who really look out for her.

Sara's roommate, Rebecca (Leighton Meester), can be a bit overbearing, though. In true "Single White Female" style, Rebecca calls Sara incessantly, goes through her possessions,and puts her enemies in the hospital. Sara knows Rebecca cares, but as the film continues, she learns just how much.

For the most part, Sara is oblivious to Rebecca's dealings. She goes out every night and when she returns to their luxurious dorm, Rebecca is there to comfort and to disturb her.

Unfortunately, little does Sara know, Rebecca has been off her meds for weeks.

"The Roommate" never awards its characters anything more than simplistic clichés. Even by low genre standards, Sara is a poor slasher heroine. Actress Minka Kelly brings little to the character and screenwriter Sonny Mallhi brings even less.

Rebecca, on the other hand, is simply insane, without much explanation or motivation. As Mallhi writes her, Rebecca is a rich, L.A. native, has parents who might be neglectful, and is a certified schizophrenic. Without her pills, Rebecca’s a monster, plain and simple. The film treats her to a vague, insensitive description, because apparently the last thing a needs use is a well-developed antagonist.

"The Roommate" is a pretty weak effort, failing to even deliver the gratuitous sex and violence people see these movies for. A memorable slasher uses the conventions to say something about an overarching theme. "A Nightmare on Elm Street" looked at overprotective parents by putting the killer in a world where parents could not go; "Halloween" explored voyeurism and folklore through the lurking presence of Michael Meyers.

As for "The Roommate," it explores that roommates can be, you know, like a total drag, sometimes.

Grade: D+

"The Roommate"

Movie Review

Directed by Christian E. Christiansen, written by Sonny Mallhi, 93 minutes, PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Women in horror are put in a tight spot. With characterizations ranging from the virgin to the harlot, everything surrounds sex and extremes.

The female-heavy slasher "The Roommate" is no exception. Set against the backdrop of a California liberal arts college, "The Roommate" follows two girls as they attempt to fit in at school. More precisely, "The Roommate” follows two girls as they fill out one of two archetypes: The oblivious and the insane.

Fresh from the boring mid-west, Sara Matthews (Minka Kelly) arrives at the Ritz-Carlton of fake colleges--ULA--with a smile on her face and a dream in her heart. Everything is falling into place for this aspiring fashion designer: She has a great new boyfriend, supportive professors and friends who really look out for her.

Sara's roommate, Rebecca (Leighton Meester), can be a bit overbearing, though. In true "Single White Female" style, Rebecca calls Sara incessantly, goes through her possessions,and puts her enemies in the hospital. Sara knows Rebecca cares, but as the film continues, she learns just how much.

For the most part, Sara is oblivious to Rebecca's dealings. She goes out every night and when she returns to their luxurious dorm, Rebecca is there to comfort and to disturb her.

Unfortunately, little does Sara know, Rebecca has been off her meds for weeks.

"The Roommate" never awards its characters anything more than simplistic clichés. Even by low genre standards, Sara is a poor slasher heroine. Actress Minka Kelly brings little to the character and screenwriter Sonny Mallhi brings even less.

Rebecca, on the other hand, is simply insane, without much explanation or motivation. As Mallhi writes her, Rebecca is a rich, L.A. native, has parents who might be neglectful, and is a certified schizophrenic. Without her pills, Rebecca’s a monster, plain and simple. The film treats her to a vague, insensitive description, because apparently the last thing a needs use is a well-developed antagonist.

"The Roommate" is a pretty weak effort, failing to even deliver the gratuitous sex and violence people see these movies for. A memorable slasher uses the conventions to say something about an overarching theme. "A Nightmare on Elm Street" looked at overprotective parents by putting the killer in a world where parents could not go; "Halloween" explored voyeurism and folklore through the lurking presence of Michael Meyers.

As for "The Roommate," it explores that roommates can be, you know, like a total drag, sometimes.

Grade: D+

"Let Me In" 

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Matt Reeves, Written by Reeves, 115 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"Cloverfield" director Matt Reeves is one of the last people one may have expected to helm the American interpretation of the stellar Swedish horror-romance "Let the Right One In." The original is frightening, but works far more on an unsettling level than a truly horrific one. It's cerebral. "Cloverfield" was far from that--a solid effort, for sure, but definitely nothing that would indicate a sound understanding of subtle horror or personal drama.

But, behold, Reeves appears to have been the perfect match for this material. Not only is "Let Me In" one of the finest remakes ever made, it dares to match its foreign counterpart in both tone and subject matter--that is, it doesn't shy away from being quiet where the American audiences might expect it to be loud, nor is it afraid to be romantic and sensual in places that would make people uncomfortable. In other words, Reeves has done the impossible and made a foreign film for a mainstream American audience.

The film, like its predecessor, follows a young boy, here named Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who lives in a shabby apartment in Los Alamos, New Mexico with his perpetually inebriated mother (in an inspired move unmatched in the original, her face is never shown) and is in constant fear of torment from his school nemesis, Kenny (Dylan Minnette). One day in the winter Owen gets some new neighbors. They are Abby (Chloe Moretz) and a man who appears to be her father (Richard Jenkins). Though shy and wary, Owen befriends the mysterious girl, but what he doesn't realize is that she's actually a vampire--much older than 12, as she appears--and her "father" is her caretaker, who takes it upon himself to go out in the awful cold in the middle of the night to find unfortunate people from which to drain blood for Abby.

In many ways, and this was said even back in 2008 upon the original's release, "Let Me In" vaguely resembles its tween counterpart, "Twilight." In both, an outcast is rescued from the pain of their mundane lives by affection for something dangerous, something they cannot understand, but something they know is somehow good for them. Of course, they're not very similar otherwise--the romance of these two characters, one just reaching adolescence and the other never having reached it, is much more mature than in any of the "Twilight" films. It's more urgent, more real, and it can be felt far more deeply. And it's far from shallow, which the relationship in "Twilight" certainly is.

But to even call this adolescent romance just an ordinary romance would be a mistake. Again, like the Swedish film, there are some very dark undertones to the whole affair, especially when the real implications of Abby's desires for Owen are considered. And, startlingly, this is one area where the remake definitely trumps the original. Though the ambiguity regarding the nature of Abby's sexuality goes completely unexplored here, the overall nature of her relationship with Jenkins' caretaker character is a bit more overtly explored.

But it would be unfair to continue comparing the remake to the original--Reeves' film definitely works on its own, both in its stylistic changes and in its thematic and narrative additions. The action centerpiece of the film that has garnered a good deal of critical attention is entirely deserving of focus--it's truly one of the finest thriller setpieces of the last few years, and it has possibly the best and most startling car crash scene I've seen put to film.

Really, it's fascinating to see Reeves go from his Blair Witch-cam style in "Cloverfield" to something so thoughtful and beautiful here. Sure, he takes many cues from Tomas Alfredson, director of the original, with some moments generally taken shot-for-shot from his film, but he very much makes the film his own and any additions and subtractions are well-earned. It's really quite an exciting display of directorial prowess from someone I really didn't expect to see so much excellence from.

"Let Me In" may very well be a redundancy, but like Michael Haneke's own American remake of his film "Funny Games" and Soderbergh's "Solaris," it's a remake very much with its own merit, something that takes note from its inspiration while being wholly unique. And, with some consideration, "Let Me In" may ultimately be the better adaptation of the material.

Grade: A

"Let Me In" 

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Matt Reeves, Written by Reeves, 115 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"Cloverfield" director Matt Reeves is one of the last people one may have expected to helm the American interpretation of the stellar Swedish horror-romance "Let the Right One In." The original is frightening, but works far more on an unsettling level than a truly horrific one. It's cerebral. "Cloverfield" was far from that--a solid effort, for sure, but definitely nothing that would indicate a sound understanding of subtle horror or personal drama.

But, behold, Reeves appears to have been the perfect match for this material. Not only is "Let Me In" one of the finest remakes ever made, it dares to match its foreign counterpart in both tone and subject matter--that is, it doesn't shy away from being quiet where the American audiences might expect it to be loud, nor is it afraid to be romantic and sensual in places that would make people uncomfortable. In other words, Reeves has done the impossible and made a foreign film for a mainstream American audience.

The film, like its predecessor, follows a young boy, here named Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who lives in a shabby apartment in Los Alamos, New Mexico with his perpetually inebriated mother (in an inspired move unmatched in the original, her face is never shown) and is in constant fear of torment from his school nemesis, Kenny (Dylan Minnette). One day in the winter Owen gets some new neighbors. They are Abby (Chloe Moretz) and a man who appears to be her father (Richard Jenkins). Though shy and wary, Owen befriends the mysterious girl, but what he doesn't realize is that she's actually a vampire--much older than 12, as she appears--and her "father" is her caretaker, who takes it upon himself to go out in the awful cold in the middle of the night to find unfortunate people from which to drain blood for Abby.

In many ways, and this was said even back in 2008 upon the original's release, "Let Me In" vaguely resembles its tween counterpart, "Twilight." In both, an outcast is rescued from the pain of their mundane lives by affection for something dangerous, something they cannot understand, but something they know is somehow good for them. Of course, they're not very similar otherwise--the romance of these two characters, one just reaching adolescence and the other never having reached it, is much more mature than in any of the "Twilight" films. It's more urgent, more real, and it can be felt far more deeply. And it's far from shallow, which the relationship in "Twilight" certainly is.

But to even call this adolescent romance just an ordinary romance would be a mistake. Again, like the Swedish film, there are some very dark undertones to the whole affair, especially when the real implications of Abby's desires for Owen are considered. And, startlingly, this is one area where the remake definitely trumps the original. Though the ambiguity regarding the nature of Abby's sexuality goes completely unexplored here, the overall nature of her relationship with Jenkins' caretaker character is a bit more overtly explored.

But it would be unfair to continue comparing the remake to the original--Reeves' film definitely works on its own, both in its stylistic changes and in its thematic and narrative additions. The action centerpiece of the film that has garnered a good deal of critical attention is entirely deserving of focus--it's truly one of the finest thriller setpieces of the last few years, and it has possibly the best and most startling car crash scene I've seen put to film.

Really, it's fascinating to see Reeves go from his Blair Witch-cam style in "Cloverfield" to something so thoughtful and beautiful here. Sure, he takes many cues from Tomas Alfredson, director of the original, with some moments generally taken shot-for-shot from his film, but he very much makes the film his own and any additions and subtractions are well-earned. It's really quite an exciting display of directorial prowess from someone I really didn't expect to see so much excellence from.

"Let Me In" may very well be a redundancy, but like Michael Haneke's own American remake of his film "Funny Games" and Soderbergh's "Solaris," it's a remake very much with its own merit, something that takes note from its inspiration while being wholly unique. And, with some consideration, "Let Me In" may ultimately be the better adaptation of the material.

Grade: A

“The Rite”

Movie Review

Directed by Mikael Håfström, Written Michael Petroni and Matt Baglio, 112-minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

 

View Christopher Smith's preview of the movie here:




2010’s “The Last Exorcism” turned the world of demonic expulsion into a magic show, portraying the practice as a fraud, a grift, or most generously, a faith exercise for the truly disturbed.

2011’s “The Rite” takes a similar approach, except with utter sincerity. The film drags on, moving from one repetitive scene to the next, completely unaware of how boring and redundant it is. Characters wander through the motions and search for lost faith in a story they clearly have none in.

“The Rite’s” exhausting 112 minutes begins with young mortician Michael Kovak (Colin O'Donoghue), who decides to turn his back on the funeral home and join the seminary. Four years later, Michael, about to take his last rites before joining the priesthood, has a lapse in faith. So, in order to add to the dwindling number of priests in America, Father Matthew (Toby Jones) sends him to a seminary in Rome to become an exorcist.

Makes sense to me.

Michael in Rome is a harrowing experience. First, he goes to class, where he tries to convince his teachers that God doesn’t exist. Then, he meets an old exorcist named Father Lucas Trevant (Anthony Hopkins) and tries to convince him that God doesn’t exist. This goes on throughout the second and third act, until Michael must preform an exorcism and prove to himself that God does exist.

The classic debate is finally settled.

Michael’s stubbornness slows “The Rite” to a blinding halt. He is unwilling to go along with anything, and while his conviction builds character, it also makes him entirely unlikable. Horror movies regarding belief must show a gradual change of heart, but O'Donoghue just comes off as arrogant before he faces the most unlikely tests of faith.

Opposite him is Anthony Hopkins, who takes his role with the utmost pleasure. He has a ball playing the eccentric priest and onscreen, he’s mostly captivating. This isn’t enough to overcome the dullness of the story, however. Nevertheless, Hopkins tries, but more often than not, his decent performance makes the cast’s bland line readings look worse.

“The Rite” aims for authenticity but is nothing more than a cartoon. The film is rife with poorly executed genre clichés and bad acting, alienating the viewer from the picture--and putting them into a coma.

Grade: D

“The Rite”

Movie Review

Directed by Mikael Håfström, Written Michael Petroni and Matt Baglio, 112-minutes, Rated PG-13.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

 

View Christopher Smith's preview of the movie here:




2010’s “The Last Exorcism” turned the world of demonic expulsion into a magic show, portraying the practice as a fraud, a grift, or most generously, a faith exercise for the truly disturbed.

2011’s “The Rite” takes a similar approach, except with utter sincerity. The film drags on, moving from one repetitive scene to the next, completely unaware of how boring and redundant it is. Characters wander through the motions and search for lost faith in a story they clearly have none in.

“The Rite’s” exhausting 112 minutes begins with young mortician Michael Kovak (Colin O'Donoghue), who decides to turn his back on the funeral home and join the seminary. Four years later, Michael, about to take his last rites before joining the priesthood, has a lapse in faith. So, in order to add to the dwindling number of priests in America, Father Matthew (Toby Jones) sends him to a seminary in Rome to become an exorcist.

Makes sense to me.

Michael in Rome is a harrowing experience. First, he goes to class, where he tries to convince his teachers that God doesn’t exist. Then, he meets an old exorcist named Father Lucas Trevant (Anthony Hopkins) and tries to convince him that God doesn’t exist. This goes on throughout the second and third act, until Michael must preform an exorcism and prove to himself that God does exist.

The classic debate is finally settled.

Michael’s stubbornness slows “The Rite” to a blinding halt. He is unwilling to go along with anything, and while his conviction builds character, it also makes him entirely unlikable. Horror movies regarding belief must show a gradual change of heart, but O'Donoghue just comes off as arrogant before he faces the most unlikely tests of faith.

Opposite him is Anthony Hopkins, who takes his role with the utmost pleasure. He has a ball playing the eccentric priest and onscreen, he’s mostly captivating. This isn’t enough to overcome the dullness of the story, however. Nevertheless, Hopkins tries, but more often than not, his decent performance makes the cast’s bland line readings look worse.

“The Rite” aims for authenticity but is nothing more than a cartoon. The film is rife with poorly executed genre clichés and bad acting, alienating the viewer from the picture--and putting them into a coma.

Grade: D

“The Vanishing on 7th Street”

Movie Review

Written by Anthony Jaswinski, directed by Brad Anderson, rated R, 91 minutes.

By our guest blogger, Joel Crabtree

The new Brad Anderson film, “The Vanishing on 7th Street,” attempts to turn the director’s trademark cerebral horror brand (“Session 9,” “The Machinist”) into a commercially viable product, creating a quick-fix that doesn’t linger long after its credits.

“Vanishing” plunges Detroit into darkness and takes the city’s inhabitants with it. Only a handful of humans remain -- the “lucky” ones who were near lights during the outage, and they can only continue their existence by maintaining lights near them at all times. Four such survivors -- Luke (Hayden Christensen), Rosemary (Thandie Newton, flat), Paul (John Leguizamo, also flat) and 12-year-old James (Jacob Lattimore) -- come together at a tavern powered by a slowly dying generator.

With the days becoming shorter after the outage, the group is faced with a decision: Stay under the comfortable yet waning light provided by the bar’s generator or risk venturing out into uncertainty.

“Vanishing” relies heavily on blue print that was perfected by George Romero in “Night of the Living Dead” and Stephen King with “The Mist.” It plays out like a Xerox of its predecessors, but luckily Anderson is skilled enough to do the form justice. He generates a sense of impending doom -- something too many horror films are missing these days -- with shadows taking form, crawling along the walls of dimly lit alleys and hallways grasping wildly at the remaining humans. It’s not exactly subtle -- very little in the movie is -- but it gets the job done.

There are moments where “The Vanishing on 7th Street” aspires to be more than just popcorn entertainment, with blatant, uneffective references to the Roanoke colony and the idea of dark matter. But it’s Swiss psychologist Carl Jung’s idea -- “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being” -- for which the movie owes its entire premise, and yet it is strangely neglected and underdeveloped.

Anderson makes up for the absence of depth with tension, and there’s more than enough to go around. In that regard, “The Vanishing on 7th Street” is a step in the director’s career. However, the thought-provoking films of his past would be a welcome return next time around.

Grade: B-

"The Vanishing on 7th Street" is currently available on demand. It hits theaters Feb. 18. Below is the trailer. What are your thoughts?"

“The Vanishing on 7th Street”

Movie Review

Written by Anthony Jaswinski, directed by Brad Anderson, rated R, 91 minutes.

By our guest blogger, Joel Crabtree

The new Brad Anderson film, “The Vanishing on 7th Street,” attempts to turn the director’s trademark cerebral horror brand (“Session 9,” “The Machinist”) into a commercially viable product, creating a quick-fix that doesn’t linger long after its credits.

“Vanishing” plunges Detroit into darkness and takes the city’s inhabitants with it. Only a handful of humans remain -- the “lucky” ones who were near lights during the outage, and they can only continue their existence by maintaining lights near them at all times. Four such survivors -- Luke (Hayden Christensen), Rosemary (Thandie Newton, flat), Paul (John Leguizamo, also flat) and 12-year-old James (Jacob Lattimore) -- come together at a tavern powered by a slowly dying generator.

With the days becoming shorter after the outage, the group is faced with a decision: Stay under the comfortable yet waning light provided by the bar’s generator or risk venturing out into uncertainty.

“Vanishing” relies heavily on blue print that was perfected by George Romero in “Night of the Living Dead” and Stephen King with “The Mist.” It plays out like a Xerox of its predecessors, but luckily Anderson is skilled enough to do the form justice. He generates a sense of impending doom -- something too many horror films are missing these days -- with shadows taking form, crawling along the walls of dimly lit alleys and hallways grasping wildly at the remaining humans. It’s not exactly subtle -- very little in the movie is -- but it gets the job done.

There are moments where “The Vanishing on 7th Street” aspires to be more than just popcorn entertainment, with blatant, uneffective references to the Roanoke colony and the idea of dark matter. But it’s Swiss psychologist Carl Jung’s idea -- “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being” -- for which the movie owes its entire premise, and yet it is strangely neglected and underdeveloped.

Anderson makes up for the absence of depth with tension, and there’s more than enough to go around. In that regard, “The Vanishing on 7th Street” is a step in the director’s career. However, the thought-provoking films of his past would be a welcome return next time around.

Grade: B-

"The Vanishing on 7th Street" is currently available on demand. It hits theaters Feb. 18. Below is the trailer. What are your thoughts?"

"Case 39" 

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Christian Alvert, Written by Ray Wright, 109 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

When it was released in theaters last year, "Case 39" had been in the can for about three years. Two years ago, it was intended for release around August or so. Honestly, the delay should be a warning enough at what you're getting into here.

The greatest hurdle horror films must surpass these days, moreso than pretty much any other genre film, is cliche. There's nothing that keeps a horror film down like familiarity. Despite this fact, directors and writers continue putting out horror films rife with plot elements and characterization we've seen a thousand times before. "Case 39" is no exception. Every cue can be seen coming a mile away, not an ounce of original style or storytelling in the whole thing.

Renee Zellweger--her popularity dwindling more and more with every film--is Emily Jenkins, a social worker assigned to the Sullivan family, specifically Young Lillith Sullivan (Jodelle Ferland, a young actress not unlike her unfortunate male counterpart Cameron Bright in that she's consistently typecast in these kind of creepy roles). She has been doing poorly in school and after some investigation, Emily suspects abuse from the parents. Some things go horribly awry and Emily is taken away from her parents, who are subsequently placed in a mental institution.  Too frightened to go into foster care, Lillith begs to be taken in my Emily herself.

What follows is typical demon child stuff. Take bits of "The Ring," "The Omen," "Orphan" and numerous other devilish schlock-horrors of the past decade and you can pretty much determine what's to come every step of the way. Bit parts from Ian McShane and Bradley Cooper are pretty much  wasted (and, shocker, if you've seen the trailer, you already know the fate of one of them).

What else can even be said at this point? Horror is a genre seemingly on a perpetual downfall--with every great one released, a few dozen complete duds arrive in its wake, almost always drowning it so that the gems are often lost in the crowd. It's hard to determine why--with movies like "Inception" breaking the box office, it's clear audiences are interested in originality. Perhaps the problem is that they just don't demand it enough. Audiences settle for stuff like "Case 39" or the numerous "Saw" installments (with another arriving--of course in 3D--at the end of the month) instead of reaching out for something new.

Well, horror fans looking for more of the same will find it in spades in "Case 39." It's not the worst horror film of this year, but there have been so many mediocre efforts that it's pointless to even compare them at this point. Really, if this one had remained on the shelf, it's unlikely anybody but those involved in the production would have noticed.

Grade: D

"Case 39" 

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Christian Alvert, Written by Ray Wright, 109 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

When it was released in theaters last year, "Case 39" had been in the can for about three years. Two years ago, it was intended for release around August or so. Honestly, the delay should be a warning enough at what you're getting into here.

The greatest hurdle horror films must surpass these days, moreso than pretty much any other genre film, is cliche. There's nothing that keeps a horror film down like familiarity. Despite this fact, directors and writers continue putting out horror films rife with plot elements and characterization we've seen a thousand times before. "Case 39" is no exception. Every cue can be seen coming a mile away, not an ounce of original style or storytelling in the whole thing.

Renee Zellweger--her popularity dwindling more and more with every film--is Emily Jenkins, a social worker assigned to the Sullivan family, specifically Young Lillith Sullivan (Jodelle Ferland, a young actress not unlike her unfortunate male counterpart Cameron Bright in that she's consistently typecast in these kind of creepy roles). She has been doing poorly in school and after some investigation, Emily suspects abuse from the parents. Some things go horribly awry and Emily is taken away from her parents, who are subsequently placed in a mental institution.  Too frightened to go into foster care, Lillith begs to be taken in my Emily herself.

What follows is typical demon child stuff. Take bits of "The Ring," "The Omen," "Orphan" and numerous other devilish schlock-horrors of the past decade and you can pretty much determine what's to come every step of the way. Bit parts from Ian McShane and Bradley Cooper are pretty much  wasted (and, shocker, if you've seen the trailer, you already know the fate of one of them).

What else can even be said at this point? Horror is a genre seemingly on a perpetual downfall--with every great one released, a few dozen complete duds arrive in its wake, almost always drowning it so that the gems are often lost in the crowd. It's hard to determine why--with movies like "Inception" breaking the box office, it's clear audiences are interested in originality. Perhaps the problem is that they just don't demand it enough. Audiences settle for stuff like "Case 39" or the numerous "Saw" installments (with another arriving--of course in 3D--at the end of the month) instead of reaching out for something new.

Well, horror fans looking for more of the same will find it in spades in "Case 39." It's not the worst horror film of this year, but there have been so many mediocre efforts that it's pointless to even compare them at this point. Really, if this one had remained on the shelf, it's unlikely anybody but those involved in the production would have noticed.

Grade: D

"Resident Evil: Afterlife 3D"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review 

Written and directed by Paul W. S. Anderson, 90 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

Paul W. S. Anderson's movie, "Resident Evil: Afterlife," features one scene that's memorable, if only because it's so comical. You were looking for more than one memorable scene? Wrong movie.

The scene takes place on a rooftop. On it is Alice (Milla Jovovich), who returns to this fourth installment in the franchise with her poreless skin and vicious death moves in an effort to take down the Umbrella Corporation. Those who follow the franchise will know that the Umbrella Corp. is responsible for creating a virus that has turned most of the world's human population into a scrambling, unattractive herd of the hissing undead.

In this particular scene, Alice is pitted against thousands of them, all of which are closing in on her in an effort to eat her, because that's what zombies do. Since Alice is resourceful, she tricks them into chasing her off the building's roof just as she drops a bomb in her wake.

The movie was shot in 3-D, which allows Anderson a unique opportunity to embrace a perspective. Not unlike the writing itself, the undead in these movies are dumb and so they naturally follow Alice off the roof without hesitation, thought or question. What we're left with is a funny shot that allows the viewer to look up at the undead as they pinwheel through the air (and presumably to their undead deaths) with their tinker-toy arms and legs. When the bomb explodes, it catches bits and pieces of them on fire. Meanwhile, the ever-resourceful Alice is swinging like Tarzan on the rope she attached to her body before jumping. She lands on the ground, where the falling zombies are popping like pinatas--and where more zombies await. Gunfire ensues. Cut. Print.

What's refreshing about this scene is how it uses 3-D technology--it's safe to say you've never seen zombies tumbling at you quite like this. Unfortunately, everything that comes before and after this moment is just what you expect--a convoluted scattershot of hyper editing best served for fans of the franchise or for junkies of the computer games on which they're based. Those who enjoy their horror movies with a trace of story and a measure of dialogue to boost character development will be left wanting.

After all, the lot of it is plot. This time out, Alice is up against Wesker (Shawn Roberts), who wears sunglasses at night and who is determined to take down Alice and her posse. Said posse includes loads of Alice dopplegangers, Ali Larter as Claire, Wentworth Miller as a handy inmate (because, you know, he's comfortable in such a role after starring in "Prison Break") and Boris Kodjoe as Luther West.

Making a heroic return from the last movie, the misleadingly titled "Resident Evil: Extinction," is a young lass named K-Mart (Spencer Locke), whose name redefines the way Hollywood markets corporate America in movies (fight the real evil, Alice!)--and which is where you likely will find this movie on DVD soon enough.

Grade: D+

"Resident Evil: Afterlife 3D"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review 

Written and directed by Paul W. S. Anderson, 90 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

Paul W. S. Anderson's movie, "Resident Evil: Afterlife," features one scene that's memorable, if only because it's so comical. You were looking for more than one memorable scene? Wrong movie.

The scene takes place on a rooftop. On it is Alice (Milla Jovovich), who returns to this fourth installment in the franchise with her poreless skin and vicious death moves in an effort to take down the Umbrella Corporation. Those who follow the franchise will know that the Umbrella Corp. is responsible for creating a virus that has turned most of the world's human population into a scrambling, unattractive herd of the hissing undead.

In this particular scene, Alice is pitted against thousands of them, all of which are closing in on her in an effort to eat her, because that's what zombies do. Since Alice is resourceful, she tricks them into chasing her off the building's roof just as she drops a bomb in her wake.

The movie was shot in 3-D, which allows Anderson a unique opportunity to embrace a perspective. Not unlike the writing itself, the undead in these movies are dumb and so they naturally follow Alice off the roof without hesitation, thought or question. What we're left with is a funny shot that allows the viewer to look up at the undead as they pinwheel through the air (and presumably to their undead deaths) with their tinker-toy arms and legs. When the bomb explodes, it catches bits and pieces of them on fire. Meanwhile, the ever-resourceful Alice is swinging like Tarzan on the rope she attached to her body before jumping. She lands on the ground, where the falling zombies are popping like pinatas--and where more zombies await. Gunfire ensues. Cut. Print.

What's refreshing about this scene is how it uses 3-D technology--it's safe to say you've never seen zombies tumbling at you quite like this. Unfortunately, everything that comes before and after this moment is just what you expect--a convoluted scattershot of hyper editing best served for fans of the franchise or for junkies of the computer games on which they're based. Those who enjoy their horror movies with a trace of story and a measure of dialogue to boost character development will be left wanting.

After all, the lot of it is plot. This time out, Alice is up against Wesker (Shawn Roberts), who wears sunglasses at night and who is determined to take down Alice and her posse. Said posse includes loads of Alice dopplegangers, Ali Larter as Claire, Wentworth Miller as a handy inmate (because, you know, he's comfortable in such a role after starring in "Prison Break") and Boris Kodjoe as Luther West.

Making a heroic return from the last movie, the misleadingly titled "Resident Evil: Extinction," is a young lass named K-Mart (Spencer Locke), whose name redefines the way Hollywood markets corporate America in movies (fight the real evil, Alice!)--and which is where you likely will find this movie on DVD soon enough.

Grade: D+

"Devil"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by John Eric Dowdle, Written by Brian Nelson and M. Night Shyamalan, 80 Minutes, Rated PG-13 

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Now that it's available on DVD and Blu-ray disc, "Devil" is the latest mess coming from the mind of M. Night Shyamalan. Before you get any ideas, no, this isn't technically an M. Night film--he didn't direct, nor did he actually pen the screenplay. In an effort to expand his horizons (or make a quick buck, whatever works), Shyamalan has put together "The Night Chronicles," a trilogy of films with stories he himself comes up with but which are then handed down to directors and writers of his choice. "Devil" is, as the massive number "1" preceding the film suggests, the first in these chronicles, with the directorial duties handed to "Quarantine" helmer John Eric Dowdle and the screenwriting to Brian Nelson of David Slade's "30 Days of Night."

The result is interesting--a failure, certainly, but an interesting one nonetheless. The plot is really rather brilliant. Five strangers--Tony (Logan Marshall-Green), Jane (Jenny O'Hara), Sarah (Bojana Novakovic), Ben (Bokeem Woodbine), and Vince (Geoffrey Arend) are stuck in an elevator. One of them is the Devil. As the five strangers, each with dark, shady secrets, argue amongst themselves, Detective Bowden (Chris Messina) attempts to get them out of the elevator alive and solve a suicide that took place in the same building, all while dealing with the grief he still has over the tragic death of his wife and son.

With a plot like that, you might expect something slight and subtle, like "Bug" or a horror-tinged "12 Angry Men" or, maybe even more appropriately, Hitchcock's "Rope" or "Lifeboat." Well, not so much. The story would lend itself to such an interpretation, but Dowdle settles for a more typical, cliched approach. Lots of jump scares and badly-written banter fill every frame, none of it particularly thrilling, and all of it is surrounded by a very obnoxious and condescending themes regarding faith and redemption that one can pretty much expect from Shyamalan, even if he personally never put pen to paper.

Still, it's not all bad. The acting is solid enough that the poor dialogue tends to work well enough, which makes the claustrophobic scenes in the elevator a bit more engaging and interesting than they may have been otherwise. And the overall concept, while poorly executed, does tend to pull you in. From the moment the film begins, you do want to know which character is the Devil, and what exactly is going on.

Unfortunately, unlike "The Sixth Sense" or "Unbreakable," the "Shyamalan twist" that pulls the whole thing together is rather dull. Sure, it's not really that predictable (though those who have "Signs" fresh in their memory may have a few inklings before the final act--and no, not aliens), but it's not very shocking either. And as the body count stacks up and things get more convoluted, the mystery really stops being intriguing altogether.

Shockingly, the whole thing probably would've been better off if Shyamalan himself had been involved beyond conception and producing. He may be a bit sub-par of late (or, with "The Last Airbender" in mind, downright terrible), but he does have a fine understanding for visual flair, even in more economical settings like this ("The Village," for example), and if he'd actually written the film himself, it might have felt more personal, if just as heavy-handed. I never thought I'd ask for Shyamalan to get behind the camera again, but if he's going to continue with these Chronicles, I'd rather see him tackle them himself. As it is, "Devil" is a great premise with a very disappointing execution--perhaps not the worst Shyamalan has ever offered, but he has a long way to climb to get back from the bottom.

Grade: D+

"Devil"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by John Eric Dowdle, Written by Brian Nelson and M. Night Shyamalan, 80 Minutes, Rated PG-13 

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Now that it's available on DVD and Blu-ray disc, "Devil" is the latest mess coming from the mind of M. Night Shyamalan. Before you get any ideas, no, this isn't technically an M. Night film--he didn't direct, nor did he actually pen the screenplay. In an effort to expand his horizons (or make a quick buck, whatever works), Shyamalan has put together "The Night Chronicles," a trilogy of films with stories he himself comes up with but which are then handed down to directors and writers of his choice. "Devil" is, as the massive number "1" preceding the film suggests, the first in these chronicles, with the directorial duties handed to "Quarantine" helmer John Eric Dowdle and the screenwriting to Brian Nelson of David Slade's "30 Days of Night."

The result is interesting--a failure, certainly, but an interesting one nonetheless. The plot is really rather brilliant. Five strangers--Tony (Logan Marshall-Green), Jane (Jenny O'Hara), Sarah (Bojana Novakovic), Ben (Bokeem Woodbine), and Vince (Geoffrey Arend) are stuck in an elevator. One of them is the Devil. As the five strangers, each with dark, shady secrets, argue amongst themselves, Detective Bowden (Chris Messina) attempts to get them out of the elevator alive and solve a suicide that took place in the same building, all while dealing with the grief he still has over the tragic death of his wife and son.

With a plot like that, you might expect something slight and subtle, like "Bug" or a horror-tinged "12 Angry Men" or, maybe even more appropriately, Hitchcock's "Rope" or "Lifeboat." Well, not so much. The story would lend itself to such an interpretation, but Dowdle settles for a more typical, cliched approach. Lots of jump scares and badly-written banter fill every frame, none of it particularly thrilling, and all of it is surrounded by a very obnoxious and condescending themes regarding faith and redemption that one can pretty much expect from Shyamalan, even if he personally never put pen to paper.

Still, it's not all bad. The acting is solid enough that the poor dialogue tends to work well enough, which makes the claustrophobic scenes in the elevator a bit more engaging and interesting than they may have been otherwise. And the overall concept, while poorly executed, does tend to pull you in. From the moment the film begins, you do want to know which character is the Devil, and what exactly is going on.

Unfortunately, unlike "The Sixth Sense" or "Unbreakable," the "Shyamalan twist" that pulls the whole thing together is rather dull. Sure, it's not really that predictable (though those who have "Signs" fresh in their memory may have a few inklings before the final act--and no, not aliens), but it's not very shocking either. And as the body count stacks up and things get more convoluted, the mystery really stops being intriguing altogether.

Shockingly, the whole thing probably would've been better off if Shyamalan himself had been involved beyond conception and producing. He may be a bit sub-par of late (or, with "The Last Airbender" in mind, downright terrible), but he does have a fine understanding for visual flair, even in more economical settings like this ("The Village," for example), and if he'd actually written the film himself, it might have felt more personal, if just as heavy-handed. I never thought I'd ask for Shyamalan to get behind the camera again, but if he's going to continue with these Chronicles, I'd rather see him tackle them himself. As it is, "Devil" is a great premise with a very disappointing execution--perhaps not the worst Shyamalan has ever offered, but he has a long way to climb to get back from the bottom.

Grade: D+

"Cronos"

Blu-Ray, DVD Movie Review

Directed by Guillermo del Toro, Written by Guillermo del Toro, Rated R, 91-minutes.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Guillermo del Toro doesn’t so much direct horror films as grim fairy tales. His nightmarish creatures and naive characters exude both the curiosity of Hansel and Gretel and the reality of their lesson. Thus, his films tend to be both visually grisly and strangely inviting.

Del Toro’s first feature, "Cronos," which now is available on Blu-ray disc, explores this idea with a Vampiric twist. Jesus Gris, an antique dealer, finds a strange relic in the form of a golden bug that grants its owner immortality. Of course, Gris doesn’t know this, so when the bug bites him during his investigation of the device, he finds himself becoming more youthful and invigorated.

Recharged, Gris finds the bug to be a miracle, but it comes at a price: In order to continue this process, Gris must now feed either on the bug’s serum or fresh blood. As Gris’s problems mount, he finds himself threatened by an evil millionaire’s nephew, who also is in pursuit of the trinket.

"Cronos" moves quickly from one idea to the other, keeping the audience well informed as to what’s going on. From the opening shot, the director shows the audience the power of the device, giving them a brief prologue as to the bug’s origins. Del Toro’s narrative remains strong as he crafts succinct mythologies without forcing the cast into expository monologues.

While giving us this “once upon a time” element, del Toro brings us to his fairy tale world where innocent people fall into temptation, yet remain good. Gris’ desire to fight age eventually becomes his undoing – both literally and figuratively -- but his bond with his granddaughter keeps him wholesome, despite his grotesque appearance later in the film.

The director balances the fantasy with grisly effects, reflecting the nightmarish motifs of Gris’ decisions. His transformation from sweet grandfather to ghoulish bloodsucker is a gradual one, and as such, the film’s intensity slowly rises.

"Cronos" shows del Toro’s ability to marry such fantasy worlds. Like the violence seen in true Grim Fairytales, he doesn’t shield his characters from the ugliness of mankind. So, while "Cronos" might receive a happily ever after, it comes at an incredibly dark price.

Grade: B

"Cronos"

Blu-Ray, DVD Movie Review

Directed by Guillermo del Toro, Written by Guillermo del Toro, Rated R, 91-minutes.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Guillermo del Toro doesn’t so much direct horror films as grim fairy tales. His nightmarish creatures and naive characters exude both the curiosity of Hansel and Gretel and the reality of their lesson. Thus, his films tend to be both visually grisly and strangely inviting.

Del Toro’s first feature, "Cronos," which now is available on Blu-ray disc, explores this idea with a Vampiric twist. Jesus Gris, an antique dealer, finds a strange relic in the form of a golden bug that grants its owner immortality. Of course, Gris doesn’t know this, so when the bug bites him during his investigation of the device, he finds himself becoming more youthful and invigorated.

Recharged, Gris finds the bug to be a miracle, but it comes at a price: In order to continue this process, Gris must now feed either on the bug’s serum or fresh blood. As Gris’s problems mount, he finds himself threatened by an evil millionaire’s nephew, who also is in pursuit of the trinket.

"Cronos" moves quickly from one idea to the other, keeping the audience well informed as to what’s going on. From the opening shot, the director shows the audience the power of the device, giving them a brief prologue as to the bug’s origins. Del Toro’s narrative remains strong as he crafts succinct mythologies without forcing the cast into expository monologues.

While giving us this “once upon a time” element, del Toro brings us to his fairy tale world where innocent people fall into temptation, yet remain good. Gris’ desire to fight age eventually becomes his undoing – both literally and figuratively -- but his bond with his granddaughter keeps him wholesome, despite his grotesque appearance later in the film.

The director balances the fantasy with grisly effects, reflecting the nightmarish motifs of Gris’ decisions. His transformation from sweet grandfather to ghoulish bloodsucker is a gradual one, and as such, the film’s intensity slowly rises.

"Cronos" shows del Toro’s ability to marry such fantasy worlds. Like the violence seen in true Grim Fairytales, he doesn’t shield his characters from the ugliness of mankind. So, while "Cronos" might receive a happily ever after, it comes at an incredibly dark price.

Grade: B

"Tremors"

Blu-Ray, DVD Movie Review

Directed by Ron Underwood, Written by S.S. Wilson and Brent Maddock, Rated PG-13, 96-minutes.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Tributes to B-Movie monsters filled cinemas throughout the 1980s as directors like Sam Raimi and Joe Dante used their modest budgets to cult- and box-office success.

Arriving late to the party was "Tremors," a scattershot horror comedy that starts strong thanks to its leads, but which loses steam the more characters we meet. Director Ron Underwood never quite hits his stride between the scares and laughs and as a result, delivers a serviceable, but rarely great campy monster picture.

While moving out of their one-horse desert town, two handymen, Valentine (Kevin Bacon) and Earl (Fred Ward), realize a race of subterranean worms are attacking their former home. They turnaround to warn their friends only to find the creatures, attracted by seismic activity, have cornered their friends in a local diner. From there, Valentine and Earl begin forging a plan to escape from and hopefully kill these creatures.

"Tremors" is a bit inconsistent in its efforts, especially in comparison to its fantastic opening act. Ward and Bacon play off each other perfectly – one flies by the seat of his pants, the other plans ahead. They play each interaction with campy gusto, laughing along with the film’s hilarious premise, acting charming, heroic and funny.

Not much can be said for the rest of the cast, who spend much of the film engaged in a shouting match. Valentine’s love interest, Rhonda (Finn Carter), is probably the worst offender, crossing that line between so bad it’s good and just plain bad. The rest keep with the film’s frantic energy -- it just gets a little annoying after a while.

This split between the leads and the rest of the cast slows the film down in the second half. Earl and Valentine’s attempts to rally their uncooperative friends together gets redundant, especially as they continuously attempt to yell over each other. The film sticks to this main conflict for cheap thrills and hammy laughs, but it rarely hits both successfully.

A few inconsistencies aside, "Tremors" does make for some cartoony fun. The creature designs are effectively funny and they provide a great foil to the equally artificial characters and plot. "Tremors" is a film that refuses to take itself seriously and because of that, it mostly succeeds.


Grade: B-

"Tremors"

Blu-Ray, DVD Movie Review

Directed by Ron Underwood, Written by S.S. Wilson and Brent Maddock, Rated PG-13, 96-minutes.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Tributes to B-Movie monsters filled cinemas throughout the 1980s as directors like Sam Raimi and Joe Dante used their modest budgets to cult- and box-office success.

Arriving late to the party was "Tremors," a scattershot horror comedy that starts strong thanks to its leads, but which loses steam the more characters we meet. Director Ron Underwood never quite hits his stride between the scares and laughs and as a result, delivers a serviceable, but rarely great campy monster picture.

While moving out of their one-horse desert town, two handymen, Valentine (Kevin Bacon) and Earl (Fred Ward), realize a race of subterranean worms are attacking their former home. They turnaround to warn their friends only to find the creatures, attracted by seismic activity, have cornered their friends in a local diner. From there, Valentine and Earl begin forging a plan to escape from and hopefully kill these creatures.

"Tremors" is a bit inconsistent in its efforts, especially in comparison to its fantastic opening act. Ward and Bacon play off each other perfectly – one flies by the seat of his pants, the other plans ahead. They play each interaction with campy gusto, laughing along with the film’s hilarious premise, acting charming, heroic and funny.

Not much can be said for the rest of the cast, who spend much of the film engaged in a shouting match. Valentine’s love interest, Rhonda (Finn Carter), is probably the worst offender, crossing that line between so bad it’s good and just plain bad. The rest keep with the film’s frantic energy -- it just gets a little annoying after a while.

This split between the leads and the rest of the cast slows the film down in the second half. Earl and Valentine’s attempts to rally their uncooperative friends together gets redundant, especially as they continuously attempt to yell over each other. The film sticks to this main conflict for cheap thrills and hammy laughs, but it rarely hits both successfully.

A few inconsistencies aside, "Tremors" does make for some cartoony fun. The creature designs are effectively funny and they provide a great foil to the equally artificial characters and plot. "Tremors" is a film that refuses to take itself seriously and because of that, it mostly succeeds.


Grade: B-

"Psycho" (1961)

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock, Written By Joseph Stefano (screenplay), Robert Bloch (novel), Unrated, 109-minutes.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Writing something new about Alfred Hitchcock’s "Psycho" is nearly impossible at this point. The film, generally considered one of Hitchcock’s best, has undergone analysis and criticism, won fans the world over, broke box-office records, and continues to remain relevant to filmmaking today.  And there’s a simple reason for this: It’s nearly perfect.

Hitchcock’s exploration of the maniacal instills tension in the viewer through his off-kilter directing style, an anxiety-inducing score, and some brilliantly subtle performances from its leads.

For those who have yet to see "Psycho," the film breaks off into two halves, the first following Miss Marion Crane, secretary and hopeless romantic, who in an effort to better her situation, steals a large sum of money from her boss and skips town. She ends up at the Bates Motel, where she meets the proprietor, Norman Bates. Norman invites Marion to dinner and presents himself as a strange, yet seemingly harmless young man.

Afterwards, in one the film’s most memorable and famous scenes, Marion decides to take a shower, where she is brutally stabbed to death by Norman’s mother.

The rest of the film delves deeper into Norman's idiosyncrasies as Marion’s friends and family confront him about her whereabouts.

Marion’s robbery and escape establishes much of the film’s paranoia. Hitchcock’s focus on her money handling makes her run-ins with the law, or even just a quick glance from her boss, incredibly nerve racking.

Initially, Anthony Perkins' Bates is  strangely inviting. His initial calm demeanor – achieved through incessant chewing and smiling – welcome both Marion and the viewer to the motel.  But when implicated, his stuttered frustration reveals enough to raise the tension. It’s a case of will he or won’t he be caught, and it’s as exciting as any action movie.

His performance, coupled by Hitchcock’s direction, leaves much to the imagination. For instance, when Janet Leigh's Marion is slaughtered, nothing much is shown onscreen. The genius is that Hitchcock cuts the scene in such a way that he leaves its explicitness for us to imagine.

It was a shrewd move because his restraint is one of reasons the movie is so interesting. Norman Bates’ relationship with his mother is one to be studied.  It's free of judgments, because the director wanted his audience to see into the mind of the killer.  Through the brilliant frenzy that is "Psycho," he succeeded.

Grade: A

"Psycho" (1961)

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock, Written By Joseph Stefano (screenplay), Robert Bloch (novel), Unrated, 109-minutes.

By our guest blogger, Matthew Schimkowitz

Writing something new about Alfred Hitchcock’s "Psycho" is nearly impossible at this point. The film, generally considered one of Hitchcock’s best, has undergone analysis and criticism, won fans the world over, broke box-office records, and continues to remain relevant to filmmaking today.  And there’s a simple reason for this: It’s nearly perfect.

Hitchcock’s exploration of the maniacal instills tension in the viewer through his off-kilter directing style, an anxiety-inducing score, and some brilliantly subtle performances from its leads.

For those who have yet to see "Psycho," the film breaks off into two halves, the first following Miss Marion Crane, secretary and hopeless romantic, who in an effort to better her situation, steals a large sum of money from her boss and skips town. She ends up at the Bates Motel, where she meets the proprietor, Norman Bates. Norman invites Marion to dinner and presents himself as a strange, yet seemingly harmless young man.

Afterwards, in one the film’s most memorable and famous scenes, Marion decides to take a shower, where she is brutally stabbed to death by Norman’s mother.

The rest of the film delves deeper into Norman's idiosyncrasies as Marion’s friends and family confront him about her whereabouts.

Marion’s robbery and escape establishes much of the film’s paranoia. Hitchcock’s focus on her money handling makes her run-ins with the law, or even just a quick glance from her boss, incredibly nerve racking.

Initially, Anthony Perkins' Bates is  strangely inviting. His initial calm demeanor – achieved through incessant chewing and smiling – welcome both Marion and the viewer to the motel.  But when implicated, his stuttered frustration reveals enough to raise the tension. It’s a case of will he or won’t he be caught, and it’s as exciting as any action movie.

His performance, coupled by Hitchcock’s direction, leaves much to the imagination. For instance, when Janet Leigh's Marion is slaughtered, nothing much is shown onscreen. The genius is that Hitchcock cuts the scene in such a way that he leaves its explicitness for us to imagine.

It was a shrewd move because his restraint is one of reasons the movie is so interesting. Norman Bates’ relationship with his mother is one to be studied.  It's free of judgments, because the director wanted his audience to see into the mind of the killer.  Through the brilliant frenzy that is "Psycho," he succeeded.

Grade: A

"The Skeleton Key"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

By Christopher Smith

The Iain Softley film, "The Skeleton Key," is one hoodoo of a movie--literally. It's a movie about hoodoo, voodoo and cheap thrills set in a Louisiana backwater.

The film is a ripe Southern Gothic, just this side of moldy, with Softley playing the first half of the story straight before smoking some homegrown hoodoo himself to deliver a final half that embraces, shall we say, its share of absurdity.

The film finds its star, Kate Hudson, breaking free from the string of disappointing romantic comedies that have plagued her career since her excellent, Academy Award-nominated performance in 2001's "Almost Famous."

Here, she pulls a Naomi Watts and a Jennifer Connelly by hopping the tracks into horror, which turns out to be a shrewd move for a woman whose career has become such a horror. While the movie is far from the showpiece Hudson deserves, she nevertheless is able to reveal appealing new dimensions that the slight, meet-cute formula of her previous films haven't allowed her to show.

She's not alone in mixing things up.

Based on Ehren Kruger's script, "The Skeleton Key" also stars venerable actress Gena Rowlands. Like Bette Davis before her in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" and the movie "The Skeleton Key" most resembles, 1964's "Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte," Rowlands has apparently reached that zenith in her career when its perfectly sane to go a little nuts onscreen.

True, she doesn't go as far as Joan Crawford did in her final two films, the infamous camp keepers "Berserk!" and "Trog," but there is a scene with Rowlands that involves compound fractures, a foul, bourbon-soaked mouth and lots of low crawling that's one for the record books.

In the movie, Hudson is Caroline, a Big Easy hospice worker who agrees to take a job on the aforementioned backwater, in spite of urgings from her friend, Hallie (Fahnlohnee Harris), not to do it. "Girl, crazy things happen out there," Hallie says. "I don't know, sugar--you better think twice." Or something like that.

Anyhoodoo, it comes down to this: Caroline gets in her vintage VW Beetle and takes off for the job. On the rundown plantation, which looks peculiarly like the one in "Charlotte," she meets sketchy Violet (Rowlands), who boldly likes to smoke long, thin cigarillos with flare; her lawyer, Luke (Peter Sarsgaard), who doesn't; and Violet's dying husband, Ben (John Hurt), who apparently had a massive stroke.

In this house of no mirrors, things get weird behind all those locked doors, the skeleton key to which Caroline was given by Violet. While she cares for Ben, curiosity leads her into every one of those rooms, particularly (and naturally) the attic, in which something appears to be trying like hell to get out.

Caroline tries like mad to get in, which leads to all sorts of problems, the likes of which won't be revealed here because it's at this point that the movie gets good--really good--in it's own cheap, awful way.

Look, "The Skeleton Key" isn't a great movie by any stretch, but when a film's actors obviously are having this much fun slumming--and that fun morphs into subversive entertainment for us--there isn't a better summertime remedy, Southern or otherwise.

Grade: B
 
View the trailer for "The Skeleton Key" here:

"The Skeleton Key"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

By Christopher Smith

The Iain Softley film, "The Skeleton Key," is one hoodoo of a movie--literally. It's a movie about hoodoo, voodoo and cheap thrills set in a Louisiana backwater.

The film is a ripe Southern Gothic, just this side of moldy, with Softley playing the first half of the story straight before smoking some homegrown hoodoo himself to deliver a final half that embraces, shall we say, its share of absurdity.

The film finds its star, Kate Hudson, breaking free from the string of disappointing romantic comedies that have plagued her career since her excellent, Academy Award-nominated performance in 2001's "Almost Famous."

Here, she pulls a Naomi Watts and a Jennifer Connelly by hopping the tracks into horror, which turns out to be a shrewd move for a woman whose career has become such a horror. While the movie is far from the showpiece Hudson deserves, she nevertheless is able to reveal appealing new dimensions that the slight, meet-cute formula of her previous films haven't allowed her to show.

She's not alone in mixing things up.

Based on Ehren Kruger's script, "The Skeleton Key" also stars venerable actress Gena Rowlands. Like Bette Davis before her in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" and the movie "The Skeleton Key" most resembles, 1964's "Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte," Rowlands has apparently reached that zenith in her career when its perfectly sane to go a little nuts onscreen.

True, she doesn't go as far as Joan Crawford did in her final two films, the infamous camp keepers "Berserk!" and "Trog," but there is a scene with Rowlands that involves compound fractures, a foul, bourbon-soaked mouth and lots of low crawling that's one for the record books.

In the movie, Hudson is Caroline, a Big Easy hospice worker who agrees to take a job on the aforementioned backwater, in spite of urgings from her friend, Hallie (Fahnlohnee Harris), not to do it. "Girl, crazy things happen out there," Hallie says. "I don't know, sugar--you better think twice." Or something like that.

Anyhoodoo, it comes down to this: Caroline gets in her vintage VW Beetle and takes off for the job. On the rundown plantation, which looks peculiarly like the one in "Charlotte," she meets sketchy Violet (Rowlands), who boldly likes to smoke long, thin cigarillos with flare; her lawyer, Luke (Peter Sarsgaard), who doesn't; and Violet's dying husband, Ben (John Hurt), who apparently had a massive stroke.

In this house of no mirrors, things get weird behind all those locked doors, the skeleton key to which Caroline was given by Violet. While she cares for Ben, curiosity leads her into every one of those rooms, particularly (and naturally) the attic, in which something appears to be trying like hell to get out.

Caroline tries like mad to get in, which leads to all sorts of problems, the likes of which won't be revealed here because it's at this point that the movie gets good--really good--in it's own cheap, awful way.

Look, "The Skeleton Key" isn't a great movie by any stretch, but when a film's actors obviously are having this much fun slumming--and that fun morphs into subversive entertainment for us--there isn't a better summertime remedy, Southern or otherwise.

Grade: B
 
View the trailer for "The Skeleton Key" here:

"Knowing"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Alex Proyas, written by Juliet Snowden and Stiles White, 122 minutes, rated PG-13.

By Christopher Smith

Alex Proyas' horror thriller, "Knowing," stars Nicolas Cage in one of his better commercial efforts, which is good news for Cage, since he needed a movie that was an improvement over the dreck he’s been shucking to audiences lately.

For too long, the man’s career has been one long wallow in the business end of a loaded toilet, where he swam amid such firebombs as "The Wicker Man," "Ghost Rider," "Next" "National Treasure: Book of Secrets" and the especially risible "Bangkok Dangerous.”

The key to Cage's success in this movie is Proyas, the visionary director behind such cult classics as "The Crow" and "Dark City,” as well as 2004's excellent "I, Robot." What he has done with Cage is to tone him down. The man is still as gaunt as ever (would somebody please throw him a Fat Burger?), but gone are the massive fright wigs he has favored as of late, not to mention his thirst for delivering such hilarious, over-reaching performances, they tend to lend themselves to drinking games.

Working from Juliet Snowden and Stiles White's script, "Knowing" is a B-movie movie charged with science fiction undertones. It's about the end of the world and how one young girl named Lucinda (Lara Robinson) saw it coming 50 years ago.

At the start of the movie, this grim girl with the dead eyes and the blank face taps into something otherworldly when she joins the rest of her class by drawing her idea of what the future will look like within 50 years. Instead of drawing happy little space ships, Lucinda goes all crazy in the classroom, scribbling down a rush of numbers on a piece of paper that gets tucked within the time capsule.

Cut to the present and to Cage’s John Koestler, a widower doing his best to raise his son Caleb (Chandler Canterbury) while also spending quality time with a whisky bottle. It’s when the time capsule is opened and Caleb comes in contact with Lucinda’s handiwork that their lives are turned sideways, with John, an astrophysicist at M.I.T., soon realizing that the numbers Lucinda wrote correlate with the dates and locations of worldwide disasters, such as 9-11.

The list states that the next day, 81 people will die, which indeed happens when a plane crashes near John in New York City. A few days later, a subways skips the tracks and smashes through crowds of people, killing the exact number Lucinda predicted. Each of these scenes are beautifully handled, so seamless in their special effects, they add a nice rush to the movie.

Deepening the film's creepy factor are the men in black who hover around Caleb like a clutch of crows. They're known as the "Whisperers" and they appear mostly at night, standing watch over Caleb in ways that suggest a malicious intent. Draw into this story a subplot that involves Lucinda's daughter, Diana (Rose Byrne) and her daughter, Abby (Robinson), who also can hear the Whisperers, and "Knowing" becomes a satisfying thriller that doesn't cheat its audience when it comes to its harrowing ending.

While there are elements here that don’t add up, such as the mysterious rocks that appear throughout, this is a B-movie, with all that implies, and it’s better than the bad rap it received when it first hit theaters.

Grade: B

Watch the trailer for "Knowing" here:

"Knowing"

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Alex Proyas, written by Juliet Snowden and Stiles White, 122 minutes, rated PG-13.

By Christopher Smith

Alex Proyas' horror thriller, "Knowing," stars Nicolas Cage in one of his better commercial efforts, which is good news for Cage, since he needed a movie that was an improvement over the dreck he’s been shucking to audiences lately.

For too long, the man’s career has been one long wallow in the business end of a loaded toilet, where he swam amid such firebombs as "The Wicker Man," "Ghost Rider," "Next" "National Treasure: Book of Secrets" and the especially risible "Bangkok Dangerous.”

The key to Cage's success in this movie is Proyas, the visionary director behind such cult classics as "The Crow" and "Dark City,” as well as 2004's excellent "I, Robot." What he has done with Cage is to tone him down. The man is still as gaunt as ever (would somebody please throw him a Fat Burger?), but gone are the massive fright wigs he has favored as of late, not to mention his thirst for delivering such hilarious, over-reaching performances, they tend to lend themselves to drinking games.

Working from Juliet Snowden and Stiles White's script, "Knowing" is a B-movie movie charged with science fiction undertones. It's about the end of the world and how one young girl named Lucinda (Lara Robinson) saw it coming 50 years ago.

At the start of the movie, this grim girl with the dead eyes and the blank face taps into something otherworldly when she joins the rest of her class by drawing her idea of what the future will look like within 50 years. Instead of drawing happy little space ships, Lucinda goes all crazy in the classroom, scribbling down a rush of numbers on a piece of paper that gets tucked within the time capsule.

Cut to the present and to Cage’s John Koestler, a widower doing his best to raise his son Caleb (Chandler Canterbury) while also spending quality time with a whisky bottle. It’s when the time capsule is opened and Caleb comes in contact with Lucinda’s handiwork that their lives are turned sideways, with John, an astrophysicist at M.I.T., soon realizing that the numbers Lucinda wrote correlate with the dates and locations of worldwide disasters, such as 9-11.

The list states that the next day, 81 people will die, which indeed happens when a plane crashes near John in New York City. A few days later, a subways skips the tracks and smashes through crowds of people, killing the exact number Lucinda predicted. Each of these scenes are beautifully handled, so seamless in their special effects, they add a nice rush to the movie.

Deepening the film's creepy factor are the men in black who hover around Caleb like a clutch of crows. They're known as the "Whisperers" and they appear mostly at night, standing watch over Caleb in ways that suggest a malicious intent. Draw into this story a subplot that involves Lucinda's daughter, Diana (Rose Byrne) and her daughter, Abby (Robinson), who also can hear the Whisperers, and "Knowing" becomes a satisfying thriller that doesn't cheat its audience when it comes to its harrowing ending.

While there are elements here that don’t add up, such as the mysterious rocks that appear throughout, this is a B-movie, with all that implies, and it’s better than the bad rap it received when it first hit theaters.

Grade: B

Watch the trailer for "Knowing" here:

On DVD and Blu-ray disc

“Halloween II”

Written and directed by Rob Zombie, 105 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

Dear Rob Zombie:

Recently, on Blu-ray, I had the misfortune of revisiting your latest effort behind the lens, “Halloween II,” a remake of Rick Rosenthal’s 1981 horror movie with Jamie Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode, and was struck with the same feelings of malaise, boredom, and the urge to take up a new hobby as the first time I saw the movie.

But all that has passed. I now feel well enough to pass along a few additional thoughts on your movie’s risible execution as well as a few regrets for all of that unfortunate explaining you must be saddled with once again. No matter how you handle it--and I can only imagine it involves the lifting of a certain finger--trying to explain that you’ve made 2009’s worst film has to be trying. And for that reason alone, I feel sorry for you. Sort of. OK, not at all.

About your movie. It’s just a bloody windbag of exploding cows, butchered bodies, nasty necrophiliacs, bloodletting gone berserk and madness running rampant, isn’t it? As John Carpenter proved in the original “Halloween,” most of this could have been handled with a measure of finesse, sustained suspense, violence that was implied instead of exploited, and a core character--Laurie Strode (now played by the grating Scout Taylor-Compton)--who you come to care about. All of that is lacking here just as it was in Rosenthal’s weak sequel. As a result, your movie is a crude pandemonium of the pathetic.

Let’s talk about Laurie for a minute. In Carpenter’s hands, she was the good girl with the clean mouth and the bad hair who loved children and carved them cute little pumpkins before Michael Myers wreaked havoc on her life and turned her into a screaming banshee. In Rosenthal’s hands, she essentially only reprised the role to be on the run from Michael while providing her share of shrieks. In your hands--literally, since you dictated the script (to an illiterate?)--Laurie now sounds as if she’s graduated magna cum laude from the four-letter school of hard knocks.

What a mouth on that one! Your Laurie is about as likable as a fist in the face--her presence in a room could darken its walls--and so the key element missing from your movie is someone to root for. I could have cared less about your Laurie. In fact, I kind of hated her.

Same goes for the story. Just so we’re on the same page, remaking a horror movie doesn’t have to be a horror show. All one has to do is look to Zack Snyder’s “Dawn of the Dead,” John Carpenter’s “The Thing,” Werner Herzog’s “Nosferatu” and Philip Kaufman’s “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” to see that it can be pulled off with panache. In your movie, you’ve essentially run a knife through the franchise’s gut. And then you do it again and again. Rinse and repeat. Hammer away and hammer hard.

Thing is, beyond the ongoing sense of confusion you generate onscreen, you feel nothing in “Halloween II.” The whole movie is a misreading of what makes a horror film good — attention to the main characters (Malcolm McDowell’s performance as Dr. Loomis is a Razzie in the waiting), and especially attention to designing a landscape that allows suspense to roam and mount. Instead, you overwhelm with a barrage of gore while stuffing in a stupid back story that revisits — through hallucination, no less — why Michael Myers became the serial killer, Michael Myers (Tyler Mane).

With broad nods at Freud (that’s deep), this apparently involves the use of a gleaming white horse and the ghostly vision of Michael’s mother (your real-life wife, Sheri Moon Zombie). Some will remember that Michael’s mom was a pole stripper in your last movie, 2007’s “Halloween,” also a bum remake, but here, she’s aglow with empty eyes, vapid dialogue, a white wicked witch wig, and plenty of mean ideas. I’d say that’s an improvement. Also, it must be noted that the mere fact that you featured this talentless never-was in another movie suggests a healthy marriage and true love. So, let’s toast to that. What we can pour our drinks over is your movie.

Please don’t make another.

All best,

Christopher

Grade: F-

View the trailer for the movie "Halloween II" below. What are your thoughts?

On DVD and Blu-ray disc

“Halloween II”

Written and directed by Rob Zombie, 105 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

Dear Rob Zombie:

Recently, on Blu-ray, I had the misfortune of revisiting your latest effort behind the lens, “Halloween II,” a remake of Rick Rosenthal’s 1981 horror movie with Jamie Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode, and was struck with the same feelings of malaise, boredom, and the urge to take up a new hobby as the first time I saw the movie.

But all that has passed. I now feel well enough to pass along a few additional thoughts on your movie’s risible execution as well as a few regrets for all of that unfortunate explaining you must be saddled with once again. No matter how you handle it--and I can only imagine it involves the lifting of a certain finger--trying to explain that you’ve made 2009’s worst film has to be trying. And for that reason alone, I feel sorry for you. Sort of. OK, not at all.

About your movie. It’s just a bloody windbag of exploding cows, butchered bodies, nasty necrophiliacs, bloodletting gone berserk and madness running rampant, isn’t it? As John Carpenter proved in the original “Halloween,” most of this could have been handled with a measure of finesse, sustained suspense, violence that was implied instead of exploited, and a core character--Laurie Strode (now played by the grating Scout Taylor-Compton)--who you come to care about. All of that is lacking here just as it was in Rosenthal’s weak sequel. As a result, your movie is a crude pandemonium of the pathetic.

Let’s talk about Laurie for a minute. In Carpenter’s hands, she was the good girl with the clean mouth and the bad hair who loved children and carved them cute little pumpkins before Michael Myers wreaked havoc on her life and turned her into a screaming banshee. In Rosenthal’s hands, she essentially only reprised the role to be on the run from Michael while providing her share of shrieks. In your hands--literally, since you dictated the script (to an illiterate?)--Laurie now sounds as if she’s graduated magna cum laude from the four-letter school of hard knocks.

What a mouth on that one! Your Laurie is about as likable as a fist in the face--her presence in a room could darken its walls--and so the key element missing from your movie is someone to root for. I could have cared less about your Laurie. In fact, I kind of hated her.

Same goes for the story. Just so we’re on the same page, remaking a horror movie doesn’t have to be a horror show. All one has to do is look to Zack Snyder’s “Dawn of the Dead,” John Carpenter’s “The Thing,” Werner Herzog’s “Nosferatu” and Philip Kaufman’s “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” to see that it can be pulled off with panache. In your movie, you’ve essentially run a knife through the franchise’s gut. And then you do it again and again. Rinse and repeat. Hammer away and hammer hard.

Thing is, beyond the ongoing sense of confusion you generate onscreen, you feel nothing in “Halloween II.” The whole movie is a misreading of what makes a horror film good — attention to the main characters (Malcolm McDowell’s performance as Dr. Loomis is a Razzie in the waiting), and especially attention to designing a landscape that allows suspense to roam and mount. Instead, you overwhelm with a barrage of gore while stuffing in a stupid back story that revisits — through hallucination, no less — why Michael Myers became the serial killer, Michael Myers (Tyler Mane).

With broad nods at Freud (that’s deep), this apparently involves the use of a gleaming white horse and the ghostly vision of Michael’s mother (your real-life wife, Sheri Moon Zombie). Some will remember that Michael’s mom was a pole stripper in your last movie, 2007’s “Halloween,” also a bum remake, but here, she’s aglow with empty eyes, vapid dialogue, a white wicked witch wig, and plenty of mean ideas. I’d say that’s an improvement. Also, it must be noted that the mere fact that you featured this talentless never-was in another movie suggests a healthy marriage and true love. So, let’s toast to that. What we can pour our drinks over is your movie.

Please don’t make another.

All best,

Christopher

Grade: F-

View the trailer for the movie "Halloween II" below. What are your thoughts?

By Christopher Smith

With Halloween on Sunday, the weekend crush is on for horror movies. So, break out the Holy water, folks, and step away from the satanic hellfire, because over the past several weeks, more than 40 horror movies were revisited for this piece.

Because of time considerations, not all could be reviewed here, and some classics such as "The Exorcist", "The Night of the Living Dead" and "Dracula" were left off because everybody already know they’re great (and should be revisited if none of the below appeals). What follows is a broad sampling of other films--some familiar, some not so familiar, some way outside the fringe.

The horror genre is one that can be enjoyed on two primary levels--for the fear it elicits when it’s done well, or for the wild comedy it offers when it’s B-movie bad. With that in mind, the following are recommended:

"Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers"
Distilled camp. A horror movie with a Maine connection not associated with Stephen King. Northeast Harbor resident Gunnar “Leatherface” Hansen (the original “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”) is The Stranger, a cultish pimp who employs a bevy of topless hookers to help him sacrifice the unsuspecting. They use chainsaws--well, of course they do--and are backed by an advertising slug that notes they charge an arm and a leg for their services. Ho, ho.

"The Fly" (1986)
Kafka would have loved it. This fine remake of the 1958 original is a horror romance. It’s one of David Cronenberg’s best films, with Jeff Goldblum’s inventor-scientist Seth Brundle joining Geena Davis’ Ronnie in creating a heart-felt, B-movie gross-out. What the film creates in Seth’s unflattering transformation from human being to human-fly is as grotesque as anything in Romero’s “Land of the Dead,” yet none of it is served with a trace of intended humor. Cronenberg and company are dead serious about their cautionary ideas about the abuse of science and technology. As Seth deteriorates into a mess of ticks, mandibles and twitches, the movie comes down to the nuances of Goldblum’s spot-on performance and the horror of what some will do with a loaded rifle in the name of love.

"Frankenfish"
The dark side of “Hee-Haw.” Giant, prehistoric fish wreak havoc on hillbillies in a backwater bayou. Voodoo, decapitations and mutilations ensue. At times, the actors, covered in body parts and brain matter, can’t ignore the absurdity of the situations or contain their own amusement; they giggle through the gore. So will you.

"Halloween"
One of the best. Unlike Rob Zombie’s risible remakes, director John Carpenter got it right--a slasher film needs more than a butcher knife and a boogeyman to be effective. It needs a main character worth rooting for, a plot that facilitates a suspension of disbelief, a spellbinding score that complements the creeps. In “Halloween,” we get it all, with Jamie Lee Curtis fending off masked madman Michael Meyers. A lucrative series was born, none of which has matched this terrific original.

"High Tension"
Who knew that studying in the French countryside could be so hazardous to your health? In the slasher film "High Tension," college students Marie (Cecile De France) and Alex (Maiwenn--yes, just Maiwenn) flee the city to cram for their upcoming finals in the presumed quietude of Alex's country farmhouse. Trouble is, when they arrive, so does a homicidal maniac (Philippe Nahon) who brutally abducts Alex, but not before resourceful Marie slips into hiding with some rather sharp hardware at the ready. What ensues is director Alexandre Aja’s cinematic bloodbath. The movie is lean, mean and initially focused--it wants to repel you with gore and it might just succeed. The bizarre, fractured ending is a disappointment, so much so that some will wonder what Aja was smoking when he conceived it. Still, the ending shouldn’t negate what comes before it--a visceral thrill ride.

"Woodchipper Massacre"
So bad it hurts. So bad it’s good. So much for using only wood in a woodchipper. Three kids murder their rotten, mean-spirited aunt, chop her up, freeze her solid, and then put her assorted body parts through a woodchipper. Messy, horribly acted, but puckish fun. Inspired a similar scene in “Fargo.”

"Movie Dearest"
Okay, so not a horror movie, per se, but a great party film if seen with the right crowd. It’s scary, terrifying, allegedly true. Faye Dunaway’s performance as Joan Crawford is cut-throat. She wields an ax. She serves raw meat to children. She devastates a garden. She uses bathroom cleanser as a weapon. For good measure, she also provides a corpse—her own, waxen and blue in the film’s climactic scene.

"The Changeling"
Underrated. A fantastic haunted house movie without the gore or the cheap thrills. George C. Scott brings gravitas; director Peter Medak brings a tense mood. A séance spectacle with a lone, antique wheelchair fueled by a spirit determined to murder. A forgotten classic. An enduring favorite.

"Motel Hell"
A drive-in staple when there actually were drive-ins. The film features a motel owner with a cannibalistic penchant for turning his guests into smoked meats. Don’t eat the jerky. In the garden is a nasty, buried secret. Onscreen is something more unsettling--Wolfman Jack in cameo. Love the pig’s head.

"Psycho" (1960 version)
Janet Leigh in the shower, with a knife in her back, her torso, the palms of her hands. As in so many Hitchcock movies, an undercurrent of sleaze runs through the movie--it was startling for the times. Anthony Perkins is a timid bird slavishly beholden to his mother; he’s no caricature. His performance is a lark. Hitchcock exploited Leigh, sure, but he also made her a legend. Turns out she did well by that.

"The Twisted Terror Collection"
A rousing B-movie horror collection from Warner. Includes six films--John Carpenter's 1978 television stalker movie "Someone's Watching Me," with Lauren Hutton in the lead, and Oliver Stone's 1981 horror film "The Hand," in which Michael Caine loses a hand to an auto accident--and the hand just won't die! Also included are 1986's "Deadly Friend" from Wes Craven, which he'd likely sooner wish to forget; 1973's "From Beyond the Grave," with Peter Cushing as a shifty antiques dealer; and 1981's "Eyes of a Stranger," with Jennifer Jason Leigh protecting her deaf and blind sister from a serial rapist. Finally, there's 1992's "Dr. Giggles," which is about a mass murderer that stars nobody memorable, but which nevertheless features a title that gets to the heart of this holiday. Go and have a few laughs of your own.

"Undead"
The undead in this low-budget horror show are relentless. With verve, they keep hammering away at the screen, eating and clawing their way into someone else's oblivion--all thanks to a pesky little meteor shower in which aliens thumbed a ride to Earth. If the undead in this movie weren't so physically hideous, they’d be perfect for a reboot of "The Apprentice”--they’re that savage, that hungry, that obvious in their killer instincts. From the Australian brother team of Michael and Peter Spierig, the film's pace lags at the start, but cult horror fans will appreciate the over-the-top gore and the two former beauty queens stewing in the subplot. In one scene, a pair of freshly lopped legs continue to walk with spine intact, a nice touch that creates an amusing diversion. So does some of the dialogue, which is just this side of camp. “Undead” doesn’t have the budget to be slick, so it has to rely on flashes of imagination to see it through. It does, and parts of the movie are fun, though it never escapes the sense that it wouldn't exist without the efforts Sam Raimi, Peter Jackson, George Romero, Tobe Hooper and Steven Spielberg put forth before it.

"Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?"
Bette Davis as a former starlet turned raging, delusional drunk--her face is the horror, not to mention the sound her slippers make as they cake across the floor. Joan Crawford is sister Blanche, wheelchair bound and terrified by Jane’s jealousy. Mind games uncoil. Dead careers struggle to reignite. Meanwhle, dead birds and dead rats are served for dinner. Audiences are served a feast.

By Christopher Smith

With Halloween on Sunday, the weekend crush is on for horror movies. So, break out the Holy water, folks, and step away from the satanic hellfire, because over the past several weeks, more than 40 horror movies were revisited for this piece.

Because of time considerations, not all could be reviewed here, and some classics such as "The Exorcist", "The Night of the Living Dead" and "Dracula" were left off because everybody already know they’re great (and should be revisited if none of the below appeals). What follows is a broad sampling of other films--some familiar, some not so familiar, some way outside the fringe.

The horror genre is one that can be enjoyed on two primary levels--for the fear it elicits when it’s done well, or for the wild comedy it offers when it’s B-movie bad. With that in mind, the following are recommended:

"Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers"
Distilled camp. A horror movie with a Maine connection not associated with Stephen King. Northeast Harbor resident Gunnar “Leatherface” Hansen (the original “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”) is The Stranger, a cultish pimp who employs a bevy of topless hookers to help him sacrifice the unsuspecting. They use chainsaws--well, of course they do--and are backed by an advertising slug that notes they charge an arm and a leg for their services. Ho, ho.

"The Fly" (1986)
Kafka would have loved it. This fine remake of the 1958 original is a horror romance. It’s one of David Cronenberg’s best films, with Jeff Goldblum’s inventor-scientist Seth Brundle joining Geena Davis’ Ronnie in creating a heart-felt, B-movie gross-out. What the film creates in Seth’s unflattering transformation from human being to human-fly is as grotesque as anything in Romero’s “Land of the Dead,” yet none of it is served with a trace of intended humor. Cronenberg and company are dead serious about their cautionary ideas about the abuse of science and technology. As Seth deteriorates into a mess of ticks, mandibles and twitches, the movie comes down to the nuances of Goldblum’s spot-on performance and the horror of what some will do with a loaded rifle in the name of love.

"Frankenfish"
The dark side of “Hee-Haw.” Giant, prehistoric fish wreak havoc on hillbillies in a backwater bayou. Voodoo, decapitations and mutilations ensue. At times, the actors, covered in body parts and brain matter, can’t ignore the absurdity of the situations or contain their own amusement; they giggle through the gore. So will you.

"Halloween"
One of the best. Unlike Rob Zombie’s risible remakes, director John Carpenter got it right--a slasher film needs more than a butcher knife and a boogeyman to be effective. It needs a main character worth rooting for, a plot that facilitates a suspension of disbelief, a spellbinding score that complements the creeps. In “Halloween,” we get it all, with Jamie Lee Curtis fending off masked madman Michael Meyers. A lucrative series was born, none of which has matched this terrific original.

"High Tension"
Who knew that studying in the French countryside could be so hazardous to your health? In the slasher film "High Tension," college students Marie (Cecile De France) and Alex (Maiwenn--yes, just Maiwenn) flee the city to cram for their upcoming finals in the presumed quietude of Alex's country farmhouse. Trouble is, when they arrive, so does a homicidal maniac (Philippe Nahon) who brutally abducts Alex, but not before resourceful Marie slips into hiding with some rather sharp hardware at the ready. What ensues is director Alexandre Aja’s cinematic bloodbath. The movie is lean, mean and initially focused--it wants to repel you with gore and it might just succeed. The bizarre, fractured ending is a disappointment, so much so that some will wonder what Aja was smoking when he conceived it. Still, the ending shouldn’t negate what comes before it--a visceral thrill ride.

"Woodchipper Massacre"
So bad it hurts. So bad it’s good. So much for using only wood in a woodchipper. Three kids murder their rotten, mean-spirited aunt, chop her up, freeze her solid, and then put her assorted body parts through a woodchipper. Messy, horribly acted, but puckish fun. Inspired a similar scene in “Fargo.”

"Movie Dearest"
Okay, so not a horror movie, per se, but a great party film if seen with the right crowd. It’s scary, terrifying, allegedly true. Faye Dunaway’s performance as Joan Crawford is cut-throat. She wields an ax. She serves raw meat to children. She devastates a garden. She uses bathroom cleanser as a weapon. For good measure, she also provides a corpse—her own, waxen and blue in the film’s climactic scene.

"The Changeling"
Underrated. A fantastic haunted house movie without the gore or the cheap thrills. George C. Scott brings gravitas; director Peter Medak brings a tense mood. A séance spectacle with a lone, antique wheelchair fueled by a spirit determined to murder. A forgotten classic. An enduring favorite.

"Motel Hell"
A drive-in staple when there actually were drive-ins. The film features a motel owner with a cannibalistic penchant for turning his guests into smoked meats. Don’t eat the jerky. In the garden is a nasty, buried secret. Onscreen is something more unsettling--Wolfman Jack in cameo. Love the pig’s head.

"Psycho" (1960 version)
Janet Leigh in the shower, with a knife in her back, her torso, the palms of her hands. As in so many Hitchcock movies, an undercurrent of sleaze runs through the movie--it was startling for the times. Anthony Perkins is a timid bird slavishly beholden to his mother; he’s no caricature. His performance is a lark. Hitchcock exploited Leigh, sure, but he also made her a legend. Turns out she did well by that.

"The Twisted Terror Collection"
A rousing B-movie horror collection from Warner. Includes six films--John Carpenter's 1978 television stalker movie "Someone's Watching Me," with Lauren Hutton in the lead, and Oliver Stone's 1981 horror film "The Hand," in which Michael Caine loses a hand to an auto accident--and the hand just won't die! Also included are 1986's "Deadly Friend" from Wes Craven, which he'd likely sooner wish to forget; 1973's "From Beyond the Grave," with Peter Cushing as a shifty antiques dealer; and 1981's "Eyes of a Stranger," with Jennifer Jason Leigh protecting her deaf and blind sister from a serial rapist. Finally, there's 1992's "Dr. Giggles," which is about a mass murderer that stars nobody memorable, but which nevertheless features a title that gets to the heart of this holiday. Go and have a few laughs of your own.

"Undead"
The undead in this low-budget horror show are relentless. With verve, they keep hammering away at the screen, eating and clawing their way into someone else's oblivion--all thanks to a pesky little meteor shower in which aliens thumbed a ride to Earth. If the undead in this movie weren't so physically hideous, they’d be perfect for a reboot of "The Apprentice”--they’re that savage, that hungry, that obvious in their killer instincts. From the Australian brother team of Michael and Peter Spierig, the film's pace lags at the start, but cult horror fans will appreciate the over-the-top gore and the two former beauty queens stewing in the subplot. In one scene, a pair of freshly lopped legs continue to walk with spine intact, a nice touch that creates an amusing diversion. So does some of the dialogue, which is just this side of camp. “Undead” doesn’t have the budget to be slick, so it has to rely on flashes of imagination to see it through. It does, and parts of the movie are fun, though it never escapes the sense that it wouldn't exist without the efforts Sam Raimi, Peter Jackson, George Romero, Tobe Hooper and Steven Spielberg put forth before it.

"Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?"
Bette Davis as a former starlet turned raging, delusional drunk--her face is the horror, not to mention the sound her slippers make as they cake across the floor. Joan Crawford is sister Blanche, wheelchair bound and terrified by Jane’s jealousy. Mind games uncoil. Dead careers struggle to reignite. Meanwhle, dead birds and dead rats are served for dinner. Audiences are served a feast.