61 Days of Halloween: Asylum (1972)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of previously covered films go here.

Asylum (1971)

Last year I got into a real kick of watching as many horror anthologies as were easily accessible. The anthology film, horror or otherwise, was one I’d not seen too many times. Granted they are one of the rarer approaches but they are out there. The most recent notable editions in the genre are, of course, The ABCs of Death and V/H/S. I had heard, from more than one source, that this was the best of them so it was one I knew I had to give a go once this theme rolled around.

Not only had I heard it was quite good, but it was also cited as one of the 100 (or so) best horror films from 1950-1980 by Stephen King in his seminal work of non-fiction, Danse Macabre. And titles on that list are high on the pecking order so far as things I want to be seeing during this theme.

With this film the approach is one closer to a nested anthology, which is to say that the stories more naturally flow in a narrative sense. Some anthologies are rather regimented and segmented. Here the the frame is highly important both in terms of the screen time it’s given and the impact it has on the tale overall. There are far too many anthologies I’ve seen, even in the small amount, that treat the frame as a throwaway or as secondary. This does not.

With the tales spawning from the minds of the deranged there is also a brilliant liberation from “reality” and standard rules. The drawback that most will point to regarding anthologies is that invariably some tales are better than others, some are even so good that they nearly salvage otherwise dreadful films. Part of why this film is so well-regarded is the fact that pretty much all the stories in this film (frame included) stand on virtually equal footing, and they’re all quite good, creepy, weird, and well-executed.

Amicus Productions are not a name I’m very familiar with but they are a company whose titles are worth getting to know. Asylum being a prime example.

61 Days of Halloween – Films to Keep You Awake: The Baby’s Room (2006)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and list of films previously covered please go here.

The Baby’s Room (2006)

As I mentioned last post, the very least I ask out of a series of horror films is that there be some concerted attempt to push the envelope within the confines of the genre. That’s exactly what this film does. Contrary to another film in this series that I’ll cover at a later date it does take a while to deliver on its connection between the main thrust and the teaser scene, but when it does it really works ingeniously and gives the film a creative avenue through which to explore its themes in both audio and visual ways.

While many of the films in the series, and in my experience with Spanish horror in general, can be a bit deliberately paced; the incidents in this film stack themselves nearly atop one another. The pace is fairly quick which does keep one fairly engaged both emotionally (as you watch the rapid deterioration of a relationship and mental state) and intellectually (as you fight to keep up not only with the twists and turns, but to decipher the rules that govern this cinematic universe).

Also, on the intellectual end of the spectrum there is a paradoxical nature to the film, which to my mind elevates it. Also bumping this film into another echelon are the performances. When there’s much dealing with mental state and personality it’s a pre-requisite for greatness if not passibility and this film does have very few chinks in its armor.

I believe that I may not have been as impressed by The Baby’s Room the first time I saw it, and that may have to do with the results of the narrative because what this film actually does, which too many horror films fail to do, is get me to care about what becomes of the characters within it. In one scene you see the protagonist quite literally pick up a figurine, a piece of a game; when you pick up all the pieces of the puzzle that is this film you get quite a dazzlingly terrifying portrait.

61 Days of Halloween: Graveyard Disturbance (1987)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept behind 61 Days of Halloween and a list of films previously covered please go here.

Graveyard Disturbance

This is a film that was directed by Lamberto Bava, son of Mario and director of such films as Demons, for a televised horror film series called Brivido giallo. The inherent value of horror series in my estimation is challenging the writers and directors to create, be they within a theme or some of constraint to further contribute to the genre and hopefully push it forward. If it breeds experimentation and something new that’s ideal, but the goal ultimately, at least from an analytical viewpoint, is to not allow it to stagnate.

I’ve not seen other films released under Brivido giallo, but, sadly this title has little to offer in the way of either being a piece of quality workmanship or originality. That’s not to say it’s entirely bereft of positives but the film positions itself poorly to attempt to exploit said positives. The location, the atmosphere and overall art design is fairly great. However, it’s bookended by both poor acting and a fairly slapdash story so the atmosphere can only go so far.

As the mystery the characters find themselves in unravels itself, it wants you leaving more, in a bad way. It creates a mythos that is undernourished and it would have done well to exploit the “non-Euclidian nature” of the environs they found themselves within.

The first act offers almost nothing in the way of the incident, however, a title such as this one is not enough to get me to shut the door on Bava or this series of releases. When one watches horror one does so knowing there will be many failed ventures before finding something truly special.

61 Days of Halloween: The Fog (1980)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of previously featured titles please go here.

The Fog (1980)

The first time I saw this film was quite a special experience. It was so not only because it was on the big screen (sure it was off a DVD, but still) but because it was very many years after the film’s initial release. The film is quite a magical feat.

What’s impressive to consider upon revisiting this film, following its wonderful transition to Blu-ray by the fine folks at Scream Factory, is that at its core it’s a very simple tale. In fact, it’s much like a campfire story, which is one of the things that really kick the film off. It’s what Stephen King might’ve described in Danse Macabre as a “tale of the the hook.” There’s a simple but wonderful backstory to this tale that allows many of the pivotal moments to be purely visual.

Furthermore, while some secrets about the history of Lorenzo Bay are being unveiled there is opportunity to crosscut to the simultaneous chaos ensuing. Which leads to another great thing about the film the fact that we the audience are given all the pieces, but the multi-character nature of the film leaves many of them only partially clued in.

Then, of course, there’s the rather obvious element of the fog itself. As human beings we get used to having five senses quite quickly, and having one taken away or severely impaired by something can lend itself to horrific situations, which is why so many horror films do occur at night or feature fog.

To have a film like this at any point after making something along the lines of Halloween would be impressive enough, but to have it come two years later and right before a very successful sequel and The Thing is why John Carpenter is one of the legends of the genre.

With Dean Cundey as Director of Photography and a cast featuring Adrienne Barbeau, Jamie Lee Curtis, Janet Leigh, John Houseman, Hal Holbrook and Tom Atkins there truly is little that can go wrong with a film such as this and hardly anything does. Carpenter and frequent collaborator Debra Hill here quickly frame a story with many characters that never feels rushed, confused or aimless and one that delivers many genuine chills. A true classic.

61 Days of Halloween: Dementia 13 (1963)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of previous films covered go here.

Dementia 13 (1963)

This post is an exciting one for me in a few respects. First, I’ve known of this film for a very long time and I’ve always been a bit hesitant to watch it. The reasons that is likely have to do with the fact that the synopsis doesn’t sell it very well, and the early work aspect scared and intrigued me in equal respects. The second reason is that seeing something and then shortly thereafter writing these posts was the initial foundation of the 61 Days of Halloween idea. I wanted to see 61 new horror films in the season. Maybe I still will but I haven’t even met the bogey yet, so I will be featuring some titles I know already to try and do that.

Dementia 13 was probably more destined than ever to be seen since I not only recently saw Twixt, but Coppola stands as one of my most viewed filmmakers of the year as can be seen both in what I’ve watched and liked.

In very traditional AIP fashion the title is virtually meaningless. However, while Corman’s AIP productions are a very mixed bag this does end up being on the favorable end. It doesn’t all click along perfectly, and there’s a very murky section you have to trudge through, but if you’re patient (which should be easy with a running time of 76 minutes) the payoff is pretty good.

It can sound odd to say you’re a fan of knock-offs of a particular film, as well as the film itself, but I’ve come to find that many films that are riffing on, borrowing from, or borderline plagiarizing Psycho have mostly worked for me as well. This one does play some of its tropes and weaves them in quite a different pattern.

If you’re into programming double-features this would actually pair well with Coppola’s most recent foray into the genre. As there he weaves a far more elaborate tale but they both definitely feel born of the same mind, this one more youthfully creating an homage and the latter showing a vibrant maturity.

61 Days of Halloween – Tremors II: Aftershocks (1996)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween please go here.

Tremors II: Aftershocks (1996)

In the interest of full disclosure, I believe I watched this for last year’s theme, maybe even for the year before, but it was such a demoralizing viewing that I left my notes aside figuring I wouldn’t bother to feature it. A few things come to mind because of it: one, I tend to try and focus on a long-running series (or more) per year and this sequel squashed the possibility of me moving past it any time soon. Two, as opposed to a zeitgeist reaction of “it took too long for this sequel to come around” I saw this many years later and it still felt a disjointed unnecessary edition that takes a leap too many and forgets part of its tonal formula for success in the original.

There is to this film a terribly slow, mercenary start. Most of what it forgets is to incorporate humor. It’s not that it doesn’t try, but it does not try enough and does not succeed. The efforts are far more fruitful and concerted on the horror end, but still a bit misguided. There is a quantum leap in the evolution of these creatures in a short period of time and suddenly there is metamorphosis, asexual reproduction, infrared senses and biped offspring. That’s a lot to absorb especially when you consider that the creatures are MIA for a large portion of the beginning. Therefore, these changes are more jarring, there’s minimal explanation.

Clearly when you go a long time between editions in a series you’ll lose cast members. Michael Gross’ character was perfect as secondary, pivotal nutjob but hardly leading man material.

As the film progresses it does get a little better, but it never rights itself. I’ve been through many long series and slogged through them. In many cases, the badness almost became a sort of morbid addiction. This one is such a soul-crushing departure from the first it compelled me to quit at least for the time being.

61 Days of Halloween: The Asphyx (1973)

Introduction

For an introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween and a list of past titles please go here.

The Asphyx (1973)

As I did with the last post I would like to commend a distributor to start, I got this film also at Monster-Mania but this time at the Kino Lorber table. Kino’s catalogue is fairly diverse and they offer many silent gems, other classic, art house and foreign fare as well as horror. This release is part of a line called Redemption, so named for previously rare titles in the genre. The idea for the line is wonderful, even if this particular selection doesn’t quite work for me in many ways.

I forget where I saw it, and it may have been a later film, but an interest in capturing the exact moment of death is not a new one. However, it is an intriguing concept especially when the possibility exists to cheat it. The Asphyx is the spirit of the death, which is carrying the deceased across the mortal plain when the time comes.If one has no Asphyx, it is found, they can not die.

An obsessive pursuit of immortality is a good angle to play up. Where things start to go wrong occurs quite soon after the film starts, and quite often; such that the film does eventually lose me. It starts with cheats in the motion picture images that seem to show the Asphyx. The researcher having created motion picture recording is a clever plot element but the cuts in the image, that suggest new camera angles, are clearly cheats for we see the camera he used never moved. That’s a nitpicky complaint, but it starts the snowball effect on this film.

Clearly with the setup this story has the Asphyx must be seen, but that creates many of the issues. The effects works is good considering the likely budgetary constraints and the time period, but the design of the Asphyx strikes me and unintentionally comical. Its presence, however, is not but is rather grating and annoying.

Eventually, once the obsession is full blown the pace slows down to a snail’s crawl and why every attempted inducement of death, to lure the Asphyx, needs to be a Rube Goldberg device is beyond me. There are some good building blocks to the film but ultimately the whole is ineffectual.

61 Days of Halloween: Woman in a Lizard’s Skin (1971)

Introduction

An introduction to the concept of 61 Days of Halloween as well as past films discussed can be found here.

Woman in a Lizard’s Skin (1971)

Although, this was released through a Scream Factory four-pack (as Schizoid), I viewed it on a region 2 import I found at the Diabolik DVD table at a Monster-Mania Con.

The facets of this Lucio Fulci film that make it fascinating are as intertwined as the seemingly disparate, or unclear, story elements that come into focus as the film progresses. Starting in a dream sequences the way it does (a potently rendered one at that), which is languid temporally, but frantic editorially, makes you wonder at times if there’s design to the madness. Staying with it you find there most certainly is.

The camera, the film’s very eye, many times twists and jerks about like the tale but in the end always finds its target, always finds its purpose while reflecting the fragile mental state of its protagonist, while always probing deeper into the workings of her mind, until it finds order in the chaotic images that the film had unfurled until that point.

The detective work that is requisite in gialli does not feel like an encumbrance at all. Rather, much like them we are trying to piece things together and though we think we may understand at first the significance of a referenced prior case or the role certain dream figures we find we do not as the narrative turns on us.

When one gravitates towards Italian horror and starts to navigate it, one is generally made aware of the two most titanic figures in it: Argento and Fulci. Many viewers make it seem like you have to embrace one and scorn the other. I do not believe that is so. They both operate in rather different ways, but this title perhaps could be viewed as the closest to there being a stylistic overlap, certain tropes are similar: the approach to the narrative highly stylized, while the protagonist “witnessed” the incident in a dream, or fugue state early she (like us) is trying to make sense of what she saw, to identify the culprit, going in chase of them parallel to police activity, and independent of them.

Woman in a Lizard’s Skin may not be Fulci’s greatest work, but it is another great work of Fulci’s I was glad to discover.

Tarzan Thursday: Tarzan and the Leopard Woman (1946)

Introduction

Last year the character of Tarzan celebrated his 100th year in print. A serialized version of the story first appeared in 1912. A hardcover collection of Tarzan of the Apes first appeared in 1914. Being in the middle of the Tarzan centennial period it’s an opportune time to (re)visit many of the screen renditions of the character.

Tarzan and the Leopard Woman (1946)

If there’s one thing you can’t really knock the Tarzan movies for is that they most definitely did introduce enough tropes, setpieces and motifs such that it did give the writers the flexibility to try and break certain molds from time to time. The issues usually stemmed from trying to juggle too much and being too inconsistent in the results as it pertained to these disparate elements.

A few things change here in Tarzan and the Leopard Woman. For one we open on the other interest in this film instead of opening on Tarzan and Jane or Boy. In fact, for a few consecutive titles the opening shots were nearly identical (Boy riding an elephant). So here we learn of the Leopard people. Everyone assumes it’s a Leopard attack but we and Tarzan knows better.

There is also introduced a native doctor whose now “civilized” who plays an antagonist role and a foil to Tarzan. However, there is also the character of Kimba, who is a far more active antagonist and more two-faced as he has most of the characters fooled throughout. The last time there was an additional young character was Bomba, but he ended up being fairly superfluous. Kimba is a fairly significant character and well-portrayed by Tommy Cook.

The biggest boon to the film is that there is a different feel to it than other Tarzans without giving away too much of what happens in the latter stages of it. There’s a more insidious, subdued plotting by those who threaten Tarzan. The things that hold it back are similar to other films but those that set it apart are quite unique. It does hold some surprises and tension in the latter third that many of the titles that fall short do not. It earns a mark of distinction, if not quality, due to Jane tailspinning, time-wasting and the like.

The Magic Flute: My History with Opera on Film

My History With Opera

I cannot claim that I have a foundation in opera. Nor can I claim, as I can with ballet, that I have a very active appreciation of it.

What my history with this artform is, in all likelihood, not unlike that of most people. Pieces that were featured in Looney Tunes shorts either in part, or as the basis for entire stories I know well. In fact, two of my more memorable Looney Tunes viewing experiences were shorts of this type, Rabbit of Seville being one of the funnier ones, and Long-Haired Hair being one that as a kid made me a bit uncomfortable because I did start to feel bad for the pompous Mr. Jones (I got over that eventually).

My first true introduction to opera appropriately enough was through a film. In French class we watched Franceso Rosi’s Carmen (1984) as one of our screenings to get more acclimated with hearing the language; this time through Bizet. I absolutely loved it. I later found what I thought was the same film and didn’t like that interpretation of the story at all (that version being Saura’s 1983 version).

Opera (1987, Blue Undrground)

There was a long hiatus after that where I really didn’t take another jump back in. As I discovered the works of Dario Argento, Opera quickly became one of my favorite works in his oeuvre. In that film I did learn both a bit about Argento outside film and also about the operatic version of Macbeth; and how it has similar tales of misfortune associated with it.

Later on I would, again going through the works of a particular director, this time Ingmar Bergman; come to know The Magic Flute. Yes, heathen that I am, I first experienced Mozart’s tale with all-Swedish libretto. I enjoyed that version a lot and then viewed it in German, as it was written, at a Fathom Events screening at a local movie theater.

Since then, while I may not have gained too much narrative or other insights into operas in general, I have listened to a lot more of them through a few means. Namely borrowing CDs from the library and on Spotify (I’ve used both these means to become more versed in classical music as well).

The Magic Flute (2006, or 2013 as the case may be)

The Magic Flute (2006, Revolver)

That brings me to the present and my latest brush with the artform in Kenneth Branagh’s only-recently-distributed English rendition of The Magic Flute. What Branagh does with this film is not that unlike what many have done with Shakespeare: the text is the same albeit translated and the setting is updated. This tale taking place during World War I.

Branagh’s doing this makes perfect sense when you consider that most are familiar with him through his Shakespearean adaptations. However, this film is perhaps the best assimilation of his sensibilities: there’s the classical dramatic sensibility he’s familiar with in Shakespeare and parlayed well in Thor, but also a zany, irreverent humor that he possesses as he’s shown as an actor in the Harry Potter series that fit this film as well.

Being an opera on film it will invariably have its stagier moments, but it has infinitely more cinematic ones. The camera, and at times even the characters in motion, accompany the movements of the music. This is especially true in the “Queen of the Night Aria” which is as mind-blowing cinematically as it is musically in this version.

In short, after all prior re-introductions to opera on film are taken into consideration the Looney Tunes are a wonderful warm up, but Kenneth Branagh’s The Magic Flute is the perfect introduction to opera for the uninitiated.