The Deaths of Elm Street: Blow by Blow
Review: Jack Frost (1997)
The Horror Delight of 1991: A Closer Look at POPCORN
Unveiling the Horror Delight of 1991: A Closer Look at Popcorn
In the vast realm of horror films, the year 1991 introduced a hidden gem that remains a cherished cult classic among genre enthusiasts – Popcorn. Directed by Mark Herrier and released by Studio Three Film Corporation, this horror flick delivers a unique blend of scares, thrills, and a meta-narrative that sets it apart from its contemporaries.
Popcorn unfolds its eerie tale within the framework of a horror movie marathon hosted by a film school. The plot revolves around film student Maggie Butler, portrayed by Jill Schoelen, who discovers a dark secret about her family's past while organizing a horror film festival to raise funds for her school. As the festival progresses, the line between fiction and reality becomes increasingly blurred, leading to a series of spine-chilling events.
One of the film's standout features is its self-awareness. Popcorn doesn't shy away from acknowledging and celebrating the horror genre. The movie within a movie concept allows it to pay homage to classic horror tropes, offering a meta experience for viewers. This self-referential approach adds a layer of depth, making Popcorn not just a horror film but a love letter to the genre itself.
The setting of the film, an old, decrepit movie theater, adds a haunting atmosphere that heightens the overall sense of dread. The use of the theater as a backdrop provides ample opportunities for suspenseful sequences, as the characters navigate darkened corridors, hidden passages, and creepy prop rooms. The eerie ambiance of the setting contributes significantly to the film's effectiveness in creating a genuinely frightening experience for the audience.
The strength of Popcorn lies in its ability to blend horror with humor seamlessly. While the film explores genuinely terrifying elements, it also injects moments of levity, keeping the tone engaging and entertaining. The juxtaposition of horror and humor is a delicate balance, but Popcorn manages to pull it off, providing viewers with an enjoyable and unpredictable ride.
The practical effects and creature designs in Popcorn deserve special mention. In an era dominated by CGI, the film's reliance on practical effects showcases the creativity and craftsmanship of the special effects team. From grotesque monsters to eerie illusions, the practical effects contribute to the film's nostalgic charm, harking back to a time when horror relied on tangible, in-camera effects to terrify audiences.
The cast, led by Jill Schoelen, delivers commendable performances that enhance the film's overall quality. Schoelen's portrayal of Maggie Butler anchors the narrative, and her journey from an unsuspecting film student to the protagonist facing supernatural horrors adds depth to the character. The supporting cast, including Tom Villard, Dee Wallace, and Tony Roberts, contribute to the film's ensemble dynamic, each bringing a unique element to the table.
Despite its undeniable charm, Popcorn did not achieve commercial success upon its initial release. However, over the years, the film has garnered a dedicated cult following. Its unique approach to the horror genre, combined with the nostalgic appeal of practical effects and a compelling meta-narrative, has elevated Popcorn to a revered status among horror aficionados.
In conclusion, Popcorn stands as a testament to the creativity and innovation present in the horror genre during the early '90s. Its ability to blend scares, humor, and a self-aware narrative set it apart from its peers, making it a must-watch for fans of classic horror. As the film continues to find new audiences through the years, its legacy as a cult classic remains intact, proving that true horror gems are often discovered in the shadows of cinematic history.
Trailer:
"Lake Placid" (1999): A Campy Classic That Swims Against the Current
"Lake Placid" (1999): A Campy Classic That Swims Against the Current
In the late 1990s, the horror-comedy genre experienced a surge in popularity, and one film that swam into the scene with a unique blend of humor and horror was "Lake Placid." Released in 1999 and directed by Steve Miner, this cult classic took the concept of a creature feature to new depths, offering audiences a thrilling and hilarious ride around a tranquil lake with a not-so-tranquil secret.
The film kicks off when a mysterious underwater creature attacks and kills a diver in the serene Black Lake, situated in the fictional town of Aroostook, Maine. Soon after, a team of experts, including paleontologist Kelly Scott (Bridget Fonda) and Fish and Game officer Jack Wells (Bill Pullman), is assembled to investigate the bizarre incident.
As the plot unfolds, the group discovers that a massive, prehistoric crocodile is the cause of the mayhem. The creature, which was thought to be extinct, has been living in the lake for years, growing to an astonishing size and exhibiting an insatiable appetite. The film follows the characters' attempts to capture and subdue the beast before it claims more victims.
"Lake Placid" boasts a stellar cast, with standout performances from Bridget Fonda, Bill Pullman, Oliver Platt, Brendan Gleeson, and Betty White. Fonda's portrayal of the strong-willed and intelligent Kelly Scott adds a layer of charm to the film, while Pullman's deadpan humor provides comic relief amidst the chaos. Platt steals scenes as the eccentric mythology professor Hector Cyr, and Betty White's quirky performance as the lake's resident widow, Mrs. Delores Bickerman, adds a surprising twist to the narrative.
What sets "Lake Placid" apart is its ability to seamlessly blend horror and humor. The film doesn't take itself too seriously, embracing its absurd premise with tongue-in-cheek dialogue and comedic timing. The banter between characters, especially the witty exchanges between Jack and Hector, adds a lighthearted touch to the otherwise tense situation. The film's ability to poke fun at itself while delivering genuine thrills makes it a memorable entry in the creature feature subgenre.
For a film released in 1999, "Lake Placid" impresses with its practical effects. The creature itself, brought to life through a combination of animatronics and CGI, still holds up surprisingly well. The filmmakers wisely chose to blend practical effects with computer-generated imagery, striking a balance that adds authenticity to the on-screen terror.
"Lake Placid" may not have been a blockbuster hit upon its initial release, but over the years, it has gained a cult following. Its unique blend of humor, horror, and memorable characters have endeared it to audiences seeking a break from more conventional monster movies. The film's legacy is also fueled by its replay value, as viewers continue to enjoy its campy charm and laugh-out-loud moments.
"Lake Placid" may not have set out to redefine the horror-comedy genre, but its quirky characters, witty dialogue, and monstrous mayhem have secured its place as a cult classic. Nearly two decades after its release, the film continues to entertain audiences who appreciate its ability to swim against the current of typical creature features. For those seeking a dose of laughter and thrills in a tranquil lake setting, "Lake Placid" remains a must-watch cinematic adventure.
Original Vs. Remake: Night of the Living Dead
Review - Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
Director: John McNaughton
We live in a society where culturally our entertainment has a lot of violence in it; (this coming from a horror film reviewer...) but often times the violence in film and television is toned down to a quick punch in the face or it is completely absurd and the blood pours down the screen. We watch horror films to feel a sense of danger, shock, or just to get our adrenaline pumping, but rarely has there ever been a film filled with such hopelessness as Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.
Whenever someone tells me that they are desensitized to violence, I tell them to watch Henry, because even the most desensitized film goer will shut up and respect the sheer realism that Henry provides. Simply put: Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer is a brilliant film, but it is NOT a fun film. Nothing is sugar-coated, cartoonish or absurd. The character of Henry shares many biographical concurrences with real-life serial killer Henry Lee Lucas. Director John McNaughton makes clear in the beginning of his film that it is based more on Lucas' violent fantasies and confessions, rather than the crimes for which he was convicted; however, this fantastical portrait of Lucas’ life takes nothing away from this truly bleak film.
We are immediately introduced to Henry as a killer and follow him throughout his daily routine. No mention is given to any police inquiries and Henry is oblivious to any notion of avoiding capture or covering his tracks. Much of the film's power comes from this nonchalant approach, whereby, if a person doesn't register that something he is doing is wrong, then it quickly becomes almost acceptable. We then meet Henry’s roommate Otis (who later joins Henry on his murderous rampage) and Otis’ sister Becky, who’s coming from out of town for a visit. We watch as the movie slowly suffocates the viewer with countless murders, interwoven with a story of three tortured individuals trying to find some way of coping with one another. The film ends with no justice and no peace. Henry continues to drive around town and kill with no signs that he will eventually be captured.
Rooker, in the title role, is totally convincing and gives a performance free from the mannerism clichés which detract from more famous serial killer characters like Hannibal Lector (the film actually made me stop watching Dexter, simply because it changed the way I view serial killers) Almost equally disturbing is Tom Towles performance as the half-witted roommate Otis, who is used as some form of comic relief until you realize just how many people you’ve met in your life that share some of Otis’ tendencies.
Everything about Henry: Portrait of A Serial Killer feels genuine. Its low budget makes it feel homemade (shot on 16mm and only had a $110,000 budget) and the relationship between the characters is so downplayed by (then) unknown actors that everything feels real, which of course makes it scarier. Some films will scare you with monsters or graphically showing a kill, but I don’t think the murders are what makes Henry such a horrifying film. I think it’s simply the atmosphere painted across its entire landscape that brings viewers to the brink of terror.
SPOILERS:
Scariest Scene: Henry gets a bottle to the face from Otis and right as he’s about to kill Henry, Becky stabs Otis in the eye. In any other horror film, this may have just been another stabbing, but the sheer tension this film provides makes this scene truly unforgettable. (With help from the soundtrack, which is arguably the best in any horror film)
- Andrew Megow
Review: Leatherface: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre III (1990)
Released in 1990, Leatherface is the first movie of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre series to lack any involvement of the franchise’s creator, Tobe Hooper. The story follows a young couple played by Kate Hodge and William Butler who are driving across the country to Florida where it is implied that they will break up. That was how the conversation was heading at any rate and I quickly asked myself why I should give a shit about these two people. One is trying to start a conversation and the other is just moping like a poor sap.
While the two are getting some gas, the owner of the station makes some rape-y remarks to the woman and a character by the name of Tex, who just hitchhiked his way over, puts the situation at ease. Tex asks the couple for a ride, and they refuse. Tex then tells them of a road they can use as a shortcut to their destination, and that’s when the owner of the gas station comes out with a shotgun and scares off the couple where they promptly take the abandoned road.
You see where this is going. While being harassed on the deserted road by an unknown truck, the couple crash into a survivalist named Benny and the three of them encounter the Sawyer family, with Leatherface as their hunter.
I was somewhat surprised by the movie’s decision to get right into the action only a few minutes in, but what surprised me more was just how boring it was. It had no problem cutting right to the boredom. There are some movies that take a while and try to build tension only to leave you hanging sometimes, but with this one, they get to the action, and I was still yawning. It was efficiently banal, because we had seen all of this before. The first TCM was gritty, eerie and savage, whereas the second movie kept that same air to it for the first half of the movie but gave way to a strange bit of humor to the family, while still being exceedingly gory and disgusting. This third movie fails at all of these attempts and adds nothing new to the story.
Let me walk you through a quick three minutes and what I was doing during it:
They capture the woman and nail her hands to a chair in the kitchen (yawn). They hit the boyfriend in the head with a hammer (scratching my crotch). The family talks about eating people and the brothers squabble among themselves (doing my taxes). The survivalist they had an accident with, Benny, he shows up and just starts shooting the hell out of everyone (picking my nose, studying the findings).
[SPOILER] The ending of the movie was something that would have gotten a lot more flack if people cared at all. We see Benny get his head cut open by the saw that was somehow turning itself on despite the fact of being underwater and with no one to pump gas into it, but that’s fine. The only problem is that Benny shows up at the very end to escape with Kate Hodge. And I wasn’t paying too much attention, but enough to notice that getting your head placed against a revving chainsaw would cause a bit more damage than the small cut on the side of Benny’s head at the end of the film. [/SPOILER]
Do any of you guys remember Jaws: The Revenge, where we see Mario Van Peebles getting eaten by the shark, only to show up at the end of the movie just floating around the water with a flesh-wound? The same thing happened here. I did a bit of research and found that the Benny character tested well with audiences, so they decided to keep him in there for the end.
Now, do any of you guys remember when one of your friends would pressure you to go see his band or poetry reading, and you don’t really want to do it because you know it’s going to suck, but you feel bad, so you go anyway and watch the performance, and while it is going on, you try to pick out one single solitary thing to compliment your friend on so you can sound supportive, but all you really want to do is get the hell out of there and go to Denny’s? I think that’s what happened with this movie. I think the director showed this to his friends and afterward he eagerly asked them, “So, what did you think?”
And someone went, “Ummm….well….the black guy was good!”
“Yeah,” another one said, “I really liked him! What a great character!”
And so on and so forth, and before you know it, the director is saying to his crew, “Guys! We have to do some re-shooting. The fans really dig Benny, let’s try to have him escape in the end.”
And someone probably said, “But we sliced his head open…”
But the director is probably just shaking his hand at the guy, as if it were a minor detail that can be circumvented.
This movie surely set a perfect precedent for the slippery shit-slope this franchise would take in the coming years.
- Michael Jenkins
Needful Things (1993): A Devilish Delight of Desires and Destruction
Released in 1993, "Needful Things" is a film adaptation of Stephen King's novel of the same name. Directed by Fraser C. Heston, the movie takes audiences on a dark and twisted journey into the quaint town of Castle Rock, where a mysterious shop called Needful Things opens its doors, promising to fulfill the deepest desires of its customers. As the film unfolds, it explores themes of temptation, greed, and the consequences of succumbing to one's darkest desires.
The story revolves around Leland Gaunt (played by Max von Sydow), the enigmatic and malevolent proprietor of Needful Things. Gaunt sets up shop in Castle Rock, offering a wide array of peculiar and seemingly magical items that cater to the personal desires of the townspeople. However, the catch is that these items come with a hefty price, not just in monetary terms but in the form of dark and destructive deeds that the customers must carry out.
The unsuspecting residents of Castle Rock fall prey to Gaunt's manipulative schemes, resulting in a series of escalating conflicts and tragedies. The town becomes a battleground of chaos and destruction as neighbors turn against each other, driven by their insatiable desires and the sinister influence of the mysterious shopkeeper.
The film boasts a stellar ensemble cast, including Ed Harris as Sheriff Alan Pangborn and Bonnie Bedelia as Polly Chalmers. Each character is uniquely crafted, and their personal struggles and vulnerabilities are brought to the forefront as they grapple with the temptations presented by Needful Things.
Sheriff Pangborn, in particular, emerges as a central figure trying to maintain order in the face of escalating chaos. His determination to uncover the truth behind the town's descent into madness provides a compelling anchor for the narrative. The dynamic performances of the cast contribute significantly to the film's eerie atmosphere and emotional depth.
"Needful Things" explores timeless themes of human nature, morality, and the consequences of unchecked desires. The film serves as a cautionary tale, highlighting the destructive power of greed and the ease with which individuals can be manipulated when their deepest longings are exploited.
As with many Stephen King adaptations, "Needful Things" successfully captures the author's ability to blend horror, psychological tension, and complex character dynamics. The film stays true to King's exploration of the darker aspects of human nature, making it a compelling addition to the cinematic adaptations of his work.
"Needful Things" stands out as a chilling and thought-provoking exploration of the human psyche, wrapped in the trappings of supernatural horror. The film's atmospheric tension, coupled with strong performances and a gripping narrative, ensures that it remains a memorable entry in the Stephen King film canon. For those intrigued by tales of temptation, moral dilemmas, and the thin line between desire and destruction, "Needful Things" remains a devilishly delightful cinematic experience.
Exploring the Horrifying Elegance of "Candyman" (1992)
Exploring the Horrifying Elegance of "Candyman" (1992)
In the realm of horror cinema, certain films stand out as timeless classics that have left an indelible mark on the genre. One such iconic movie is "Candyman," released in 1992 and directed by Bernard Rose. Adapted from Clive Barker's short story "The Forbidden," this film not only terrified audiences with its chilling narrative but also offered a thought-provoking exploration of urban legends, race, and the supernatural.
Set against the gritty backdrop of Chicago's Cabrini-Green housing projects, "Candyman" follows the story of Helen Lyle, a graduate student researching urban legends. Helen becomes intrigued by the myth of Candyman, a malevolent spirit with a hook for a hand, who is said to be summoned by saying his name five times in front of a mirror. As Helen delves deeper into the legend, she discovers a complex and horrifying connection between the supernatural entity and the real-world social issues plaguing the Cabrini-Green community.
One of the strengths of "Candyman" lies in its exploration of urban legends and the power they hold over communities. The film takes the classic Bloody Mary trope and transforms it into a nightmarish tale that blurs the lines between myth and reality. The Candyman, portrayed by Tony Todd, becomes a symbol of fear and injustice, haunting the impoverished Cabrini-Green neighborhood.
The setting of Cabrini-Green provides a poignant backdrop for the film's social commentary. The stark contrast between the decaying high-rises and the privileged world of academia highlights the economic disparities that persist in society. "Candyman" deftly weaves issues of race and class into its narrative, shedding light on the systemic injustices faced by marginalized communities.
Tony Todd's portrayal of the Candyman is nothing short of legendary. With his deep voice and imposing presence, Todd brings a mesmerizing and terrifying quality to the character. The Candyman is not just a typical slasher villain; he is a tragic figure, a victim of historical injustice seeking vengeance. Todd's performance elevates the film beyond mere scares, adding a layer of complexity to the supernatural antagonist.
Director Bernard Rose deserves credit for creating a visually stunning and atmospheric film. Rose masterfully blends psychological horror with a haunting score, creating an unsettling ambiance that lingers long after the credits roll. The use of mirrors as a recurring motif adds a symbolic layer to the narrative, reflecting the characters' fears and the dark history of Cabrini-Green.
"Candyman" has left an enduring legacy in the horror genre, influencing subsequent filmmakers and earning a dedicated fan base. Its impact is evident in the recent 2021 sequel, which continues the story while paying homage to the original. The film's ability to blend supernatural horror with social commentary ensures its place in the pantheon of horror classics.
"Candyman" (1992) stands as a testament to the power of horror to transcend mere scares and delve into the complexities of society. Its exploration of urban legends, socioeconomic issues, and a haunting performance by Tony Todd have solidified its status as a timeless classic. As we continue to revisit the horrors of Cabrini-Green, "Candyman" remains a chilling and thought-provoking journey into the dark corners of urban folklore.