Review: Horror Express (1972)

Horror Express (1972)

Director: Eugenio Martín (as Gene Martin)

Writers: Arnaud d'Usseau (screenplay), Julian Zimet (screenplay)

Stars: Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Telly Savalas

         

I love John Carpenter's The Thing. Who doesn't? I love the more recent prequel film too, also called The Thing. Who does? Before those, there was the classic The Thing From Another World, and before that, there was the original 1938 novella they were based on. And here we've got... uh... none of those.

We've got 1972's Horror Express, but the plot may sound familiar.

An ancient figure is found frozen in ice. Scientists remove it and it thaws out. The next thing you know, people are getting killed and the creature begins to adapt, absorbing their memories, their personalities, and it can look like anyone. It's an alien creature from the dawn of time, and the only way to tell who's now real and who isn't is to medically check everyone. As paranoia begins to grow amongst the poorly-armed survivors, things are looking bleak as the creature attempts to escape...

Wait, run that by me again?

Yes, the story is almost identical, even if the surroundings are different. Here our alien popsicle is brought aboard a train in 1906, the Trans-Siberian Express. Professor Saxton is proud of his find, boxing it and wrapping up the crate with chains. His rival, Doctor Wells, is keen to sneak a peek and pays someone to drill a hole in the crate and have a good look at what's inside. Naturally, someone gets killed and the body goes missing.

Inspector Mirov then orders the crate opened and the dead man is discovered inside, although the frozen body isn't. Before long, the body count rises and the autopsies are confirming that their knowledge is being drained out of them through their eyes. The prehistoric being is shot and killed, but that's when Saxton and Wells learn that it's only a host body and the creature can become anyone. It's an alien being, and the only way to detect it is for Saxton and Wells to study everybody's eyes. Well, you can probably figure out the rest.

But is Horror Express actually any good? Sadly, you'll also either love this or hate this, depending on what you're after.

If you want an action-packed horror film, this isn't it. If you want nail-biting suspense and jangling paranoia, you'll be disappointed. It's a cheaply-made film with music that sounds more like it belongs in a Western at times, and the story seems to get away from itself. Oh, and the ending is a little disappointing. So knowing that, what are its good points?

First of all, it has two heroes who don't get along with each other. They may be colleagues, but they're competitive, and while it may not be used to its full advantage, it still makes a nice change. Also they're played by Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, which boosts the quality of this production and makes it feel like a Hammer horror film. It even has Telly Savalas in it for the last half an hour or so, for good measure. And he's not in Kojak mode, but Maggott from The Dirty Dozen mode.

Some of the moments and images on display are the fuel of classic nightmares too, including the white-eyed stares of every victim as blood pours down their faces. It has a wry sense of humour at times too, in particular when Dr. Wells tries to charm a gorgeous redhead who's too young for him. The train setting may not have the Arctic ambiance of The Thing, but it's a confined space and that means a claustrophobic atmosphere.

Also, remember that means that the creature is constantly drawing nearer... and before long it'll escape into society.

It's a smart take on it. Except the unhurried pace of the film turns what should have been a frantic race against time into a slow ride on a slow train. I know, that was the style of horror movies back then and it does work as a film, but it just feels like a missed opportunity to turn those tension screws a few more times. That being said,  I liked this movie, even if the story is familiar. Lee and Cushing are always a joy to watch

Horror Express isn't an express ride. But it has horror, and the journey is smooth and steady with lots to see. It's worth the price of the ticket, so climb aboard.

- Rick Austin

Review: Alice Sweet Alice (1976)

Alice Sweet Alice (1976)

Director: Alfred Sole

If you survive this night…Nothing will scare you again.

Set in the 1960s (which, due to lack of budget, was lost among more contemporary details) and heavy on anti-Catholic rhetoric, Alice Sweet Alice is definitely the odd one out of its time. It stars a young Brooke Shields as Karen, the first victim and younger sister of our deeply unnerving yet oddly likable antagonist, Alice. Between the constant whining and carrying on of Karen and the overt favoritism of children by the mother, it’s easy to sympathize with poor Alice.  Although the film starts right off with all kinds of emotional tension, the first death definitely sets the mood for the rest of the film.

Alice becomes main suspect in murder of sister. I mean, she did just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, have the same creepy smiling mask and yellow raincoat as the murderer, and have more than enough motive. Throughout the film, it becomes more and more apparent that Alice is less than innocent, but her involvement in the terrors to unfold would remain to be seen. However, there was much hinting at the idea that the ghost of Karen, back for revenge may be to blame.

One character, which we are introduced to briefly after the death of Karen, was the creepy apartment manager with all of the kittens. I feel he could have been explained or integrated into the plot a little more. He seemed to both hate and take a “liking” to Alice and reminded me a bit of a John Waters character. Alice seemed to return the favor, somehow possibly liking his creepy, pedophilic attention, adding to the Alice character as deeply troubled and demented. Indeed, a disturbing but weirdly compelling relationship.

Throughout the film, Mom refused to listen to anything and anyone, ready to fight everyone about her children, and was always hysterical and uncooperative. She was also kind of an enabling pushover. There was also the aunt. She seemed to always know what was up, but no one listened and came off as overzealous at times. Between the two of them, there was quite a lot of tension and screaming, especially in regard to the guilt of Alice, who later may or may not have stabbed her aunt several times. As you can imagine, the following scenes would be littered with yelling, denial, and hysteria. The estranged father played the role as the voice of reason, although he started off by being uncooperative and silly about everything. However, he begins to pull himself together and actively aid in solving the mystery of who attacked the aunt in the stairwell.

I do believe that had the film followed along the “disturbed little girl dodging everyone’s radar on a killing spree” path that it would have been more compelling. The final murder and the reveal of the real killer at the end were a bit of a letdown (although it didn’t not make sense). However, the notion of the idea that Alice could very well be capable of murder and was not completely innocent was compelling and would have made for a fine storyline in of itself. The fact that the ending seemed kind of thrown into place, for the sake of the element of surprise, was more frustrating than anything. Despite the fact that the plot was a little bit all over the place, I would say that this film is deserving of a gander for any horror buff.

- Jasmine Casimir

Review: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) 
Director: Tobe Hooper     
Writers: Tobe Hooper, Kim Henkel   

Stars: Marilyn Burns, Edwin Neal, Jim Siedow, Gunnar Hansen

Cliff’s Notes: Narrator: "The film which you are about to see is an account of the tragedy which befell a group of five youths, in particular Sally Hardesty and her invalid brother, Franklin. It is all the more tragic in that they were young. But, had they lived very, very long lives, they could not have expected nor would they have wished to see as much of the mad and macabre as they were to see that day. For them an idyllic summer afternoon drive became a nightmare. The events of that day were to lead to..." First lines of the film spoken by Emmy Award-Winning actor John Larroquette

Lecture: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (TCM) is, without a doubt, one of the best horror films ever made. Technically speaking, the composition and direction of this flick is nearly perfect. Each of the early strokes beautifully crafts the image of a carefree summer drive. The documentary-like first act is tempered with only a vague air of threat, as if this is the beginning of a cosmically bad day. Our group of friends is sketched with the broadest of strokes, but the quality actors bring it up a level. The meeting with this hitchhiker, the exploring of the family home, and the walks through the Texas countryside each build to a single explosion of violence.

And from that moment on, TCM is like watching a nightmare. Danger is always no more than a few feet away. The reality of the film seems to collapse in upon itself, keeping the viewer trapped in a holocaust of violence and degradation. There is no reprieve, no release from the horrors that surround the characters. As it builds, TCM becomes a horror powerhouse. And then the dinner scene starts.

Filmed over 26 straight hours in the Texas heat, the dinner scene is pure anarchy. It is a decent into madness driven by violence, some of it real, and rage. It’s like watching the end of the world. That’s not a complaint. This is a horror movie lover’s dream. This scene, as well as the third act, are so emotionally draining that, by the time the film has let up, any of the film;s last images – characters run over by trucks, escaping into madness, or pure unadulterated rage- are apt metaphors for the viewer’s mental state.

Acting: Marilyn Burns, who sadly just passed, R.I.P., is fantastic in this flick. I’m not sure how much counseling she had afterwards, but the terror she puts out on screen is incredible. The rest of the disposable teens hold their own and read as real people, which makes the docu-feel of the flick hit harder.

Special props go to the chainsaw family. Edwin Neal and Jim Siedow are fantastic as the crazies. Siedow especially brings a moral schizophrenia to the film. He is both drawn to the violence that his family is dishing out, but also somehow terrified of the possible results. Hansen also brings a powerhouse performance. Without a single word, he commands the screen like a champ.

Directing: Tobe Hooper underplays most of his choices. TCM, at least for the first half or so, reads almost like a documentary. The angles are simple, the pace effortless, and the tension slowly rising. Hooper pays strict attention to Hitchcock’s bomb under the table theory. We know this is going to end horribly, so the lead up is laced with tension. Halfway through, Hooper opens the floodgates. There are crazy dolly shots, wild angles, and extreme close-ups galore. Every movement of the camera, every shot of not seeing something terrible build the film to a level of terror that has rarely been seen.

Script: Despite being rewritten extensively during the production, the script is a perfect microcosm of the movie. It’s distressing, technically solid, and matches the horror happening on screen. Grade A!

Effects: The film itself is nearly bloodless. While other, lesser films would have collapsed under this stress, it actually makes TCM more unsettling. By seeing less, the viewer’s brain makes up for what they think they’re seeing. And what they think they’re seeing is horrible. Also, special note for the production design of the Chainsaw house. You want “arm” chairs? Awesome bone sculptures? Distinct and terrifying masks? You get it all and more!

Highlights: Um… the whole thing? Actually, the one thing that I have found, after multiple viewings, is the humor of the piece. I know, it doesn’t sound like this is a funny flick, but TCM is masterful in its use of dark humor.

Lowlights: I really can’t complain about the film itself. The only thing I can mention is that the making of the film was incredibly, legendarily difficult. The horror stories from the TCM set are well known and universally painful. Not only was Marilyn Burns actually cut and beaten, several of the cast complained of the difficult conditions. Edwin Neal compared the filming to his time is Vietnam and Gunnar Hansen’s thoughts on filming are well documented in the excellent Chainsaw Confidential. (BTW, pick up Chainsaw Confidential. It’s a great look at the creation of this film.) I’m all for suffering for art, but this was a little ridiculous.

Final Thoughts: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is an excellent film. It routinely ends up on just about everyone’s top horror film list. The awards are well deserved. There is no film that matches the intensity and destruction that this movie lets loose upon the viewer.

- J.W. Brewer

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Review: The Evictors (1979)

The Evictors (1979)

Director: Charles B. Pierce

Writer: Charles B. Pierce, Garry Rusoff, Paul Fisk

Stars: Jessica Harper, Michael Parks, Vic Morrow

Never as popular as Pierce’s other 70s horror classic, The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1976), The Evictors (1979) feels like it could almost be a spinoff of its much more beloved predecessor.  Both films have very atmospheric qualities and share a very similar look, like they were shot in the same town over the same weekend. It’s no wonder it is featured as a B-Side to the DVD/Blu-ray release of The Town That Dreaded Sundown.  But I think this particular release, from the always awesome Scream Factory, should be advertised as a Charles B. Pierce Double Feature, instead of treating Evictors like a mere bonus feature.  

Pierce is a master of mood and atmosphere, and that of The Evictors is of the utmost unnerving.  Things kick off in the summer of 1928, as a shootout ensues at the country home of a band of violent hillbillies.  According to some exposition: the lead hillbilly killed three people the last time he was served foreclosure papers.  Seems like they should be more concerned about putting this guy in jail than showing up with court documents, but that’s beside the point.  Fast forward some years later, as a happy young couple, Ben and Ruth, acquire the same idyllic estate for themselves.  In pristine condition and not a murderous hillbilly in sight, the young couple are more than excited to start their new life, promptly christening the bedroom.  What could go wrong?  

For one thing, their shady realtor, played by the amazing Vic Morrow, fails to mention that since 1934, each tenant has been met with a violent demise.  The locals are anything but welcoming and a fedora wearing prowler keeps showing up, acting like he owns the place.  Once Ruth begins piecing everything together, things only escalate, culminating in a brutal encounter, which takes away what Ruth cares about most.  With nowhere else to go and nothing left to lose, Ruth turns to the shady relator for help.  But can he be trusted?  

- Peter DiGiovanni

The Enigmatic Vampire: George A. Romero's "Martin" (1977)

The Enigmatic Vampire: George A. Romero's "Martin" (1977)

In the realm of horror cinema, George A. Romero is an iconic figure known for revolutionizing the zombie genre with classics like "Night of the Living Dead." However, in 1977, Romero departed from the undead and introduced audiences to a different kind of monster in his film "Martin." This psychological vampire drama marked a departure from the director's zombie-centric repertoire, offering a nuanced exploration of isolation, identity, and the blurred lines between reality and fantasy.

"Martin" follows the story of its titular character, Martin Mathias (played by John Amplas), a young man who believes he is a vampire. The film opens with Martin traveling to live with his elderly cousin, Tateh Cuda, in the decaying industrial town of Braddock, Pennsylvania. Convinced he is a vampire, Martin sustains his supposed need for blood through the use of razor blades and syringes, rejecting the supernatural powers commonly associated with traditional vampire lore.

What sets "Martin" apart from traditional vampire tales is Romero's intentional subversion of established tropes. There are no capes, fangs, or supernatural powers here. Instead, Romero explores vampirism as a psychological condition, portraying Martin as a disturbed individual rather than a mythical creature. This departure from the norm challenges audiences to rethink their perceptions of vampires and confront the darkness within human psychology.

Romero's signature low-budget, independent filmmaking style is evident in "Martin." Shot on 16mm film, the movie captures the gritty realism of the declining industrial landscape in which it is set. The use of natural lighting and handheld camera work adds a documentary-like quality, immersing the audience in the harsh and unforgiving world of its protagonist.

At its core, "Martin" is a character study that delves into the mind of its troubled protagonist. John Amplas delivers a captivating performance, portraying Martin as a conflicted and sympathetic figure. As the audience witnesses his struggles with identity and a desire for connection, the film raises questions about the impact of societal isolation and the search for one's place in the world.

Romero also infuses "Martin" with social commentary, addressing issues such as urban decay, generational conflict, and the erosion of traditional values. The setting of Braddock serves as a metaphor for the crumbling foundations of society, mirroring the internal decay within Martin's troubled psyche.

While not as widely recognized as Romero's zombie films, "Martin" stands as a unique and thought-provoking entry in the horror genre. By subverting vampire tropes and exploring the psychological aspects of the protagonist's condition, Romero creates a film that goes beyond traditional horror conventions. "Martin" remains a testament to the director's versatility and willingness to challenge audience expectations, proving that horror can be a vehicle for introspection and social commentary.

Review: Psycho Beach Party (2000)

Psycho Beach Party (2000)

Director: Robert Lee King

Writer: Charles Busch

Starring: Lauren Ambrose, Nicholas Brendan, Charles Busch, Matt Keeslar, Thomas Gibson, Amy Adams, Kimberley Davies

Both a loving tribute and merciless send-up of exploitation cinema, Psycho Beach Party gathers the best tropes from three decades of B-movies and tosses them into a joyful stew. Based on the long-running play written by Charles Busch, the film's influences are written right in the title: the Frankie and Annette teen romps of the 1950s and 60s mashed up with the Hitchcockian psychodramas and slasher films of the 60s and 70s. As a capper, Psycho Beach Party then takes the sexual subtext of all those genres and turns it into text, both with single-entendre sex puns and even less subtle kink. More playful than graphic, the film revels in young sexuality in ways that feel more like Beach Blanket Bingo than Halloween, yet still treats the audience to the image of Marvel Anne (Amy Adams) lecturing Starcat (Nicholas Brendon) on responsibility while covering her naked pudenda with nothing but her hands.

Chicklet (Lauren Ambrose) is an innocent teen who, unlike every other teen, goes to the drive-in to watch the movie and is both fascinated and repulsed by all the necking going on in the surrounding cars. But Chicklet has a dark secret. Whenever she sees a circle, another personality takes over and she becomes the aggressive dominatrix, Ann Bowman (gasp!). Foul mouthed, lewd and sophisticated, Ann Bowman proclaims her desires and hatreds with operatic flourish: "Who do I have to fuck to get a hot dog in this place?"

Later, on Malibu beach, Chicklet meets a cadre of surfers led by The Great Kanaka (Thomas Gibson). She's immediately attracted by college dropout and first year psych student, Starcat and begs the boys to teach her to surf. Starcat insists that girls can't surf, citing first year Freudian nonsense about penis envy and the male hunting instinct. When Chicklet takes her case directly to Kanaka, Ann Bowman steps in, and not only gets Chicklet into the surf, but makes Kanaka her sex slave.

Meanwhile, a killer is stalking and murdering the teens one by one and police captain Monica Stark (Charles Busch) realizes that Chicklet is at the center of the mystery. Could Ann Bowman be responsible?

If it all sounds ridiculous, it's because it's meant to. The period movies Psycho Beach Party lampoons were no less so. Using naive and flat out wrong ideas about insanity, 60s psychodramas told thinly veiled cautionary tales about female hysteria and sexual repression. "Schizophrenia" (later called multiple personality disorder or dissociative disorder) was a go-to diagnosis for crazy people in the movies because it was lurid and strange. Norman Bates being the most famous example.

Psycho Beach Party plays on the plot details of those earlier works beat for beat, only it has the sense to turn it into a funny. In essence, Psycho Beach Party is the cinematic equivalent of watching a dozen B-movies all at once and riffing them with your giggling friends. The brilliance of Psycho Beach Party is that you never have to have seen an Annette Funicello movie to get the joke, because like all great satires, Psycho Beach Party is both a parody of the genre and a beautiful example of the genre.

There's also a luau dance battle. Luau. Dance. Battle.

- Katherine Turner

Review: The Brood (1979)

THE BROOD (1979)
Director: David Cronenberg

From the first scene in David Cronenberg’s ’79 effort The Brood, the viewer is made uncomfortable. We watch in horrified anger, much as the film's protagonist Frank Carveth does, while the process of a new psychiatric procedure called psychoplasmics is exhibited for an audience. A grown man whimpers in front of the audience as the bizarre and explosive Dr. Raglan verbally abuses him and likens him to a little girl, while play-acting as the man’s father. Once he hits the breaking point, the patient rips off his shirt and reveals several red welts and growths have formed through his therapy, like his insecurities and instabilities have started to fight their way out of his body.

Exposition goes as such, Frank Carveth is in the middle of a custody battle for his daughter. Carveth’s wife Nola is in intensive therapy with Dr. Raglan, using the dangerous new method of psychoplasmics, after abusing her daughter, when strange murders start to occur. Child-sized creatures start killing various people that might keep Nola away from her daughter. Frank is forced to investigate and fight, at first for his marriage, then for the custody of his child, and then for the lives of his family.

The Brood shares a few tonal similarities with the last hour or so of The Shining (released a year later). Every part of it feels very cold, rooms are sparse and all very similar, and often in the windows you see a snowy Canadian background reflecting a pale light into the rooms. This could be due to the low budget the film had, but it feels very deliberate. And much like the Shining, the uncomfortable and eerie feel of the movie comes just as much from the subject matter as it does its spooks and ghouls. At its heart, the movie is about divorce, a gory Kramer vs Kramer of sorts, and the slow realization that the person you loved isn’t REALLY that person anymore at all. While The Shining focused on a husband’s decent into madness, The Brood focuses on the discovery that everything in the husband’s life has gone out of his control. It seems like our protagonist blinked and his whole world turned upside down. It’s pretty obvious that Cronenberg was going through some shit when he wrote this.

A quick bit of internet creeping shows he was in fact getting divorced from his wife the same year the movie was released. “He first married Margaret Hindson in 1972: then his seven-year marriage ended in 1979 amidst personal and professional differences. They had one daughter, Cassandra Cronenberg. Now he is married to Carolyn Zeifman, production assistant on Rabid. They have two children, Caitlin and Brandon.[24] In the 1992 book Cronenberg on Cronenberg, he revealed that The Brood was inspired by events that occurred during the unraveling of his first marriage, which caused both Cronenberg and his daughter Cassandra a great deal of turmoil. The character Nola Carveth, mother of the brood, is based on Cassandra's mother. Cronenberg said that he found the shooting of the climactic scene, in which Nola was strangled by her husband, to be "very satisfying."—Wikipedia, David Cronenburg

It's amazing that a movie can start as a very well-done drama/thriller about divorce, loss, and madness and then slowly twist into the body terror Cronenberg is so well known for. The Brood has everything from midget monsters pummeling pretty schoolteachers, to death in front of children, to a woman licking the afterbirth from her a-sexually produced spawn, to oddly disturbing shots of milk and orange Juice mixing together on the floor, and that’s still only part of what’s so scary. You’d think the evil doctor was the big bad from the beginning. While yes, he’s totally evil; he’s also not the most evil or even most dangerous monster of the film.

The make-up effects are terrific, even if they are hidden for the most part. The film slowly shows more and more of its monsters as it goes on. First, you’d only get the hands of the child-like brood, then you see only glimpses of them running and attacking. It builds and builds until you see everything. You know how they die, how they look, and in the film’s most famous and harrowing sequence, you see how they are birthed and just what the biggest side effect of psychoplasmics is.

Warning: side effects include constipation, nausea, a brood of asexually produced demon children, and dryness of the eyes.

Overall, The Brood is a terrific mix of gore and psychological horror and one of Cronenberg’s best films, right up there with The Fly, Videodrome, and even his more ‘serious’ dramatic efforts like History of Violence and Eastern Promises. All the actors bring in great performances, the story eases you in with relatable and real drama and adds some honest, touching, human moments before letting the monster movie madness go insane. The imagery is gruesome enough to stay with you long after you stop watching. Just the over-the-top and wild-eyed performance from Oliver Reed, as Dr. Hal Raglan, is worth the price of admission, but The Brood keeps giving you more.

- Will Woolery

Review: The Baby (1973)

The Baby (1973)
Director: Ted Post

Before Robin Williams tried like hell to make us cry in the movie Jack, and Brad Pitt killed us softly with an overload of cheesiness in the movie Benjamin Button, David Mooney did the man-child role as Baby in the 1973 cult classic The Baby. Before you get excited by the term 'cult classic' or begin wondering if a film like this can hold against true horror cult classics like The Evil Dead, you should know that this isn't really a cult classic, because it's a surprisingly good movie. Personally, I think this film is considered a cult classic based upon the absurd, yet surprisingly interesting plot, and the subsequent twist(ed) ending.

The story opens with Ann Gentry, a social worker who has recently taken on a new case after hearing of its strange nature. We also begin to learn that Ann has problems of her own that haunt her throughout the film. She first meets the family - A middle-aged mother of 3 with two older daughters and a son. Now here's where things get weird - the son is a grown man with the mind of an infant.... I'll let that sink in for a minute. If you are imagining a grown man wearing baby clothes, sleeping in a crib and playing with blocks, then you are dead on. I seriously can't possibly make this up.

This is one of those films that make you ask yourself, "how serious were the cast and crew with making this film?" Although it's not a comedy and the plot comes off as quite serious, I can't help but think they had to be laughing throughout filming this. It should be pointed out that the directing by Ted Post (of Clint Eastwood's Magnum Force and Hang 'Em High fame) isn't bad at all and even the acting is decently executed, most notably from the Wadsworth sisters played by Marianna Hill (who hardcore horror buffs will remember as the lead from the underrated and forgotten zombie classic Messiah of Evil) and the oddly cute Susanne Zenor.

I will say that although the plot may sound incredibly unrealistic, they do explain it in a way that does make some sense. And as odd as it is, I can't help but warrant it as one of the most original stories I've seen in a horror film in a while. Unfortunately for some horror fans, this isn't a slasher film and most of it is dialogue driven. But if you watch this with an open mind and don't take it too seriously, I will definitely say this is worth the watch. And if you're like me, the ending just might catch you off guard.


- Rey Harris