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THE SPORE: A Different Kind of Outbreak Movie
It’s beautifully shot and has terrific effects — I just wish it was a more fun
Please note the images in this article are low-quality streaming snaps and don’t accurately reflect how great the movie looks, especially in terms of color — it’s more vibrant than these muted images suggest.
Landing divisively on DVD and Digital VOD this week, The Spore is the feature directorial debut of D.M. Cunningham, who also has a fair few short films under his belt.
The Michigan-shot film tracks the progress of a fungoid-based outbreak that rapidly spreads, ravaging a rural community, and then beyond.
The disease and its manifestations are pure body horror. The affected develop nasty fungal infections, then spread the spore by erupting blood and pus all over anyone unlucky enough to be nearby. If that wasn’t bad enough, once dead their DNA is altered and their corpses become reanimated, not merely as zombies (there’s some of that) but also wildly mutated monsters sprouting weird appendages and gaping abdominal maws (if you’re familiar with the Resident Evil franchise’s “Ganados” infected by Las Plagas, this is very much a similar kind of thing).
The tale is broken into chapters following the stories of different, mostly unrelated characters as the infection spreads. More broadly, it’s two disparate halves: the earlier segments take place in the wilderness, where the infection takes root, slowly spreading from one person to another. The later segments are more suburban, showing the more advanced stages of the outbreak as it causes widespread chaos.
Some viewers will get a little disoriented by the setup. There are no protagonists or character throughlines; the plague itself is the narrative focal point and the chapters, while tangential, tend to be self-contained. It may help to think of the film as an anthology of several successive shorts.
The first half is naturalistic and more of a slow burn, mostly centering on solo characters encountering the infection while exploring the woods or stumbling upon an affected corpse. The Spore strives to be — and I hate this term, but it paints an accurate picture — a “prestige” horror film. The quietude and sober approach definitely give off this vibe, and for awhile it works pretty effectively.
For this reason the film will certainly draw comparisons to Ben Wheatley’s In the Earth, which treads common ground: it’s similarly a heady horror film set against a pandemic, in the woods, with a moody ambient/electronic score that’s more “vibe” than musicality. Both films are beautifully photographed and naturalistic in their approach.
The second half veers more to a traditional narrative with multiple characters onscreen discussing and reacting to the spreading infection. I feel that it’s here that it started to lose me a bit, which is really the opposite affect of how things should be vibing. By this point in the film, the viewer may be protesting a bit that there’s so little dialogue, but once people start talking you may prefer the earlier silence — for all the film’s apt confidence behind the camera, some of the acting feels a little am-dram, and it doesn’t help that some of the characters make some really dumb choices.
I really did enjoy this film, especially all the body horror stuff, and I get what they were shooting for here with an artsier approach — which, again, mostly works well in the first half. But what’s perhaps most intriguing/frustrating is that there’s an incredible lean, mean horror movie in here somewhere — the one that seemed to be promised in the trailers. With all the amazing effects, body horror, and monsters, and a little less self-seriousness, this could’ve been a crowd-pleaser in the vein of Slither or The Thing.
A/V Out
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ELECTRIC JESUS is a Totally Charming Coming of Age Film Set in the World of 80s Christian Rock
No, really — a hilariously honest snapshot of navigating an insular community
Electric Jesus hits VOD platforms today, November 2
Electric Jesus. Well, that’s certainly a title.
The new musical comedy is set in the world of 80s Christian hair metal, following fictional amateur band “316” (as in John) as they go out on their first tour, a strange sojourn of churches, camps, and roller rinks. Brian Baumgartner (The Office) plays their blusterous manager, an obnoxious but good-natured promoter whose actual investment in the “Christian” part of Christian rock is questionable.
There’s an early scene where the band plays a church show, and it’s a really weird vibe — a preacher (Judd Nelson!) prefaces with a bizarre message and people aren’t really sure how to react to the band; some are really into it, others just sort of dumbfounded. That’s pretty much where I knew this movie was gonna hit me just right.
I’m from the same world, later generation (to put it succinctly, the Tooth & Nail era). As a 90s teen, cheesy hair bands were passe. But still, as someone in that world reading industry mags like HM and CCM, I was familiar with the artists that came before. Some of those classic Christian rock acts like Guardian, Tourniquet, DA, and Mike Knott were still around and putting out really solid music. Others like Petra were better left in the past.
Still, I knew that even the cheesiest of those 80s artists deserved much respect for blazing some rough trails. It was a hostile environment all around: normal audiences saw Christian bands as novelty acts, while the Church, gripped in Satanic Panic, thought them the work of the devil. Electric Jesus jumps headlong into that era, delivering a very funny and strange film that’s absolutely worth checking out, regardless of where you fall on familiarity with the subject matter.
The coming of age story follows the perspective of 316’s sound man, Erik, whose zeal for both music and his faith are genuine. Both are tested in the challenges of road life, as he encounters first love, difficulties with bandmates, the ugliness and fakery of the music business, and the temptation to sell out.
As someone who grew up engaged in Christian rock culture, there’s a lot here that strikes me as really honest, both good and cringe. Even though I’m of a later generation, much of this is very familiar. Electric Jesus is up front about those weird hallmarks of navigating the subculture and the Christian band experience: awkward church shows, youth group culture, flirting with girls (biblically, natch), hostile audiences, even expectations for bands to preach or give altar calls as part of their shows.
There’s a certain absurdity inherent to the whole system, expecting kids in their teens and twenties to have their lives and faith figured out and treat them like role models or ministers of the gospel, and that’s something that’s subtly commented on here.
But there were a lot of really great aspects to it all, as well. Most obviously a ton of incredible music, South Park and King of the Hill jokes notwithstanding. Lots of great memories wrapped up in concerts and hanging out with youth group pals. And even moments where the spirituality connects and you experience something deeper: worship, or enlightenment. These have all been very real for me in my own life, and the film understands and captures some essence of that. It’s a weirdly insular community, but Christian rock ultimately is not that different from any other musical subculture: people making and listening to music that strikes a chord with what they genuinely care about.
Writer-director Chris White tries to put it into words, “This immersive religious culture is difficult to explain to many of my friends today — but it’s even more difficult to explain why I loved it. The fact that something so alien to most of the world is so vivid in my memory…and kind of embarrassing to talk about now… It makes me feel odd.”
The film ultimately succeeds at putting that experience into a relatable context. While it’s honest and critical about the culture and era, it’s not judgmental of its characters, who just feel like real dudes who want to rock, nor of their music.
Not to get too mired in rehashing the plot or spoilers, but the film’s conclusion is, again, a very honest and endearing look at the past through the eyes of the present: nostalgia, memories, regrets, and new beginnings.
Quirky indie rocker Daniel Smith (he of Danielson) provides the eclectic soundtrack, which also includes original songs as well as covers of classic bands like Stryper.
A/V Out!
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The Archivist #137: A Creepy 60s Double Feature with VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED and TWO ON A GUILLOTINE
Capping off the spooky season with a pairing of black and white horror films from Warner Archive
The Archivist — Welcome to the Archive. As home video formats have evolved over the years, a multitude of films have found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Manufacture-On-Demand DVD operation devoted to thousands of idiosyncratic and ephemeral works of cinema. The Archive has expanded to include a streaming service, revivals of out-of-print DVDs, and factory pressed Blu-ray discs. Join us as we explore this treasure trove of cinematic discovery!
As a special treat for Halloween, we look at a pairing of black and white 1960s horror films from the Warner Archive vault.
To mix things up a bit, we’ve got both a bona fide classic and a kitschier cousin — but both stylishly photographed and enjoyable to watch. Both films are available on Warner Archive Blu-ray as well as DVD and digital.
Village of the Damned (1960)
The very premise of 1960’s Village of the Damned is as chilling as any of the horror that transpire on the screen. The entire village of Midwich, England — every man, woman, child, and animal — suddenly and simultaneously lapses into a deep slumber in the middle of the day, only to wake up some hours later confused by the incident.
George Sanders stars as Gordon Zellaby, a local academic who delves into the mystery of the affair, working closely with the government and military who are investigating the phenomenon.
A short time later, many of the town’s women become pregnant, some very unexpectedly — they were not sexually active. The children are born at the same time, and as they grow, exhibit unusual physical features, abilities, and most alarmingly a detached cruelty, gripping the town with fear. Zellaby approaches the phenomenon with a special interest, not only as a scientist, but because one of the unique children is his own.
Village of the Damned remains one of the finest horror films of its era, a tale of terror of the other and the unknown. In contrast to common folk horror trappings, the rural denizens of Midwich aren’t depicted as backward or superstitious, but as intelligent, rational, and rightfully terrified by something that’s beyond their understanding.
The film’s sequel, Children of the Damned, has just made its Warner Archive Blu-ray debut. The film also inspired a 1995 remake from John Carpenter, which remains one of his more underappreciated films.
Two on a Guillotine (1965)
Connie Stevens stars as Cassie, the daughter of famously tragic parents: when she was a child, her father, renowned Magician Duke Duquesne (Cesar Romero), accidentally killed his wife Melinda (also played by Stevens), during a magic act that went horribly wrong.
Two decades later, Duke Duquesne, an eccentric and now perhaps quite mad, follows his wife into the great beyond, but proclaims a macabre promise: to return from the grave. An estranged and adult Cassie, now the spitting image of her mother, makes a rare public appearance at the funeral, where she’s appalled by the tacky theatrics employed at her father’s request. Reporters and paparazzis take an immediate interest in trying to build her into a story.
Cassie inherits her father’s mansion, but with a unique stipulation: she must stay in the Duquesne mansion for seven nights.
From here the film goes into somewhat tropey haunted house territory, but with the added twist that dad was a magician. The house is full of weird tricks, traps, and noises, and as various spooky encounters abound, there’s always the chance it’s simply a gag — or perhaps a real encounter with something from beyond the grave.
I found this film a bit silly but still plenty of fun. Fans of The House on Haunted Hill will probably enjoy the ghoulish and campy antics, and Cesar Romero’s role is small but memorable.
Special Features and Extras
The Blu-ray editions of both films include Warner Archive’s Blu-ray edition of the film also include HD theatrical trailers.
A/V Out.
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Village of the Damned
Children of the Damned
Two on a GuillotineExcept where noted, all 16:9 screen images in this review are direct captures from the disc(s) in question with no editing applied, but may have compression or resizing inherent to file formats and Medium’s image system. All package photography was taken by the reviewer.
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Trick or Treat 2021: Two Cents Surfs on DEEP RISING (1998)
Two Cents is an original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team will program films and contribute our best, most insightful, or most creative thoughts on each film using a maximum of 200 words each. Guest writers and fan comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future entries to the column. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion.
The Pick
Stephen Sommers occupies an odd spot in the modern cinematic conversation.
While his The Mummy and its sequel The Mummy Returns were initially greeted with shrugs and eyerolls by the critical establishment, the generation that grew up with Rick and Evie O’Connell battling Imhotep have canonized those films right alongside the classics that inspired them. Not for nothing is a massive percentage of the Internet incredibly invested in Brendan Fraser’s comeback.
Even later underperformers from Sommers, like Van Helsing and G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra, continue to draw passionate support from certain audiences, especially as modern blockbusters continue to cohere to a shared template, and as ‘vulgar auteur’ remains a buzzword for some. Sommers may have set the terms for CG-overloaded action/adventure movies, but his more-is-more, everything-cranked-to-eleven-all-the-time-always aesthetic stands distinct from anything else.
His first foray into the field after a few mid-budget family films (which included the live action The Jungle Book) was a full-blown R-rated monster picture by the name of Deep Rising. A flop on release, Deep Rising nonetheless quickly developed an ardent cult following and remains a beloved creature feature from the otherwise pretty dire ‘90s.
Deep Rising stars Treat Williams as Finnegan, a lovable rogue in the mode of all the other lovable rogues you love. Finnegan and his small boat and crew are hired to deliver a group led by the mysterious Hanover (the great Wes Studi) to a similarly mysterious destination. Uh oh Spaghetti-Os, it soon turns out that Hanover and his team are hired mercenaries intending to rob a massive new cruise ship in an isolated spot in the middle of the ocean.
Double uh oh: As soon as they get on board, the gang discovers the cruise ship has been decimated, almost completely abandoned save for the gallons upon gallons of blood coating the interior. Yup, turns out some creepy crawlies of an aquatic nature got on board the ship, and now the thieves need to abandon their hopes for a payday if they have any hopes to survive.
Costarring Famke Janssen (fresh off Goldeneye, right before X-Men) as another thief trapped aboard the ship, Deep Rising boasts creature designs by Rob Bottin (the GENIUS responsible for The Thing) and a level of gory carnage that is shocking for a big expensive Hollywood movie.
Audiences didn’t show up for it originally, but Deep Rising continues to occupy a special place in the hearts of its dedicated fanbase, and so it seemed like the perfect film to close out this year’s spooky season.
Did it live up to that hype? Or is this a waterlogged relic that oughta be flushed? Read on, and find out!
Our Guests
Brendan Agnew (The Norman Nerd):
Deep Rising endears itself to me in many ways — primarily, by punching well above its weight while landing a lot more hits than it has any right to. This is a movie that woulda been a full letter grade better if it had come out either a few years earlier (see Tippett, Phil) or a few years later (Rob Bottin’s monster designs are dope as hell, but the required CGI effects simply were not There Yet), but you gotta admire a movie that gets over the finish line partly by enthusiasm.
The other thing I love about this film is how clear its goals are and how solid its base construction is. After a run of “Alien, but in the water” creature features surrounding Cameron’s The Abyss, Stephen Sommers clearly decided “ok, but what if Aliens plus water?” and ably pens a grisly sci-fi horror cum disaster movie that never quite manages to grab the brass ring, but also never falls on is face. It’s a breezy 100-odd minutes with a fun monster, awesome kills, some genuinely clever lines in the perfect monster matinee mold (“What *are* those things?” “Unfriendly.”), and a surprisingly bangin’ Jerry Goldsmith score.
If the effects are ropey or the cinematography a little too “‘90s Bright” or a couple of the performances a little too shouty (ok, more than a couple), it’s never enough to sink the proceedings — especially not in the face of Sommers’ palpable glee at the hell and the script’s solid nuts-and-bolts functionality.
Also, Djimon Honsou is clearly having more fun in a single scene where he’s trynna make his comrade barf than he was in his last 3 mega-budget superhero movie appearances. So, you got that going for you, too!
Verdict: TREAT (@BLCAgnew)
The Team
While The Mummy remains the best fusion of the various strengths of Stephen Sommers, and does the best job of mitigating his weakest instincts, Deep Rising is definitely another for the ‘hit’ column for this very hit or miss director.
Some of those weaknesses are still present, of course. He can’t help but undercut moments of tension with Saturday cartoon-level attempts at pithy banter, he clearly thinks Kevin J. O’Connor screaming all his lines is hilarious (it’s not) and, of course, he has absolutely zero self control when it comes to visual effects and just piles on unconvincing mayhem until you might as well be watching that aforementioned Saturday morning cartoon.
But Deep Rising is still a charming monster mash, and I’m very happy to have finally watched it. Sommers hits the ground running at 80 MPH and manages to maintain that momentum for pretty much the entire runtime. There is a palpable sense of glee as the film rockets along to the next big kill, the next wild chase, the next monster attack, and Sommers never seems to run out of either ideas or enthusiasm.
It helps that this is allowed to be R-rated, with the gruesome consequences of all this lunacy being the necessary counterbalance to the daffy, lightweight energy. At its best, Deep Rising approaches the levels of merrily repulsive excess of B-movie classics like Dead Alive or the Evil Deads, and in those moments you can feel Sommers behind the camera having the absolute time of his life, and it’s incredibly infectious.
Verdict: TREAT (@TheTrueBrendanF)
Deep Rising is so much fun. It’s a simple formula, but one that works. Not to be reductive or shallow, but if you make a big-budget movie with a huge monster, horror on a boat, quippy cool dudes, giant explosions, and one of the most gorgeous leading ladies of all time — yeah, I’ll be there watching it.
This cast is nuts. So many wonderful character actors, many of them on the cusp of becoming very recognizable fan favorites. Treat Williams and Famke Janssen are joined by an ensemble featuring Jason Flemyng, Djimon Hounsou, Cliff Curtis, Clifton Powell, Anthony Heald, and of course the great Wes Studi. I find Kevin J. O’Conner’s wimpy performances a little grating, but this being a Sommers joint, it makes sense that he’s here.
The CGI is a little sketchy to be sure, exhibiting that characteristic sheen of glossy falseness, but more than two decades later, the datedness is now working in its favor because we can kind of shrug it off as a product of its time rather than feel the need to judge it. Plus the practical monster and gore effects, physical sets, and action setups are really well done.
Deep Rising didn’t make a deep impact, but it’s still rising. Sommers took the same grisly horror-action-comedy ingredients and channeled them into the megahit The Mummy, and if you love that film (and who doesn’t?) you should absolutely see this one. I love this movie and believe it will only become more beloved with time as people discover and rediscover an overlooked gem.
Verdict: Treat (@VforVashaw)
Trick: 0
Treat: 3Unanimous Verdict: TREAT!
Further Reading:
https://cinapse.co/box-office-bomb-to-cult-classic-deep-rising-deserves-our-love-a65f6120eb74
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Arrow Heads Roundup: CHILDREN OF THE CORN 4K, 100 MONSTERS, HITCH HIKE TO HELL, CREEPSHOW 2
Arrow Heads — UK-based Arrow Films has quickly become one of the most exciting and dependable names in home video curation and distribution, creating gorgeous Blu-ray releases with high quality artwork and packaging, and bursting with supplemental content, often of their own creation. From cult and genre fare to artful cinema, this column is devoted to their weird and wonderful output.
Happy Halloween, Arrow Heads! It’s once again time to round up some terror classics from the Arrow Video vault. Here’s a mix of both new and catalogue releases for finishing out the spooky season.
Children of the Corn (1984) — 4K UHD
Children of the Corn screens in this article were captured from the 2K-sourced Blu-ray edition.
Children of the Corn is a relatively unassuming tale for one with such staying power, the launching point for a sprawling and still-continuing franchise (to date, 11 films and counting).
One of this country’s most prominent examples of folk horror, the film covers the earmarks of that subgenre: rural isolation, an insular community, dogmatic religious mania, and hatred and distrust for outsiders. But the premise, in which children have banded and killed all the adults in a small Nebraska community, adds additional layers of chilling subtext. It becomes a nightmare for an urban couple, Burt (Peter Hortin) and Vicky (Linda Hamilton), who make the mistake of passing through the town and must deal with the dangerous, and potentially supernatural, threat of the Children of the Corn.
“Like many other King stories, there’s a hideous monster behind all of this, here in the form of “He Who Walks Behind the Rows.” This demonic force is nothing in terms of frightening compared to these deluded kids, roaming free to slit the throats of The Unbelievers.“ — Rod Machen
Arrow previously released the film on a new 2K restoration in 2017 (from which these screens were captured), but have just followed it up with a wonderful new 4K restoration from the original camera negative with Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible).
Arrow’s editions include tons of features and interviews, but my favorite extras are the “Return to Gatlin” locations tour and the 19-minute short film Disciples of the Crow (1983) adapting the same Stephen King story.
Check out Rod’s review of the 4K Blu-ray edition:
100 Monsters (1968)
from the Yokai Monsters Collection
Arrow’s new Yokai Monsters Blu-ray box set features the original trilogy of classic Japanese folklore horror films about yokai (spooks and monsters), plus Takashi Miike’s contemporary reboot film, The Great Yokai War.
The first film in the series, entitled 100 Monsters, is a horror anthology of sorts, featuring a series of short, spooky jidaigeki tales set into a larger wraparound story about corrupt Edo officials conspiring to execute a real estate swindle. Besides razing an old shrine, they attempt to deceitfully wrest ownership of a flophouse, where many of the town’s poorest citizens reside. I didn’t really know what to expect on this one, but a parable about gentrification wasn’t near the top of the list.
The creature effects and reveals are surprisingly effective and unsettling: A woman’s neck stretches out in snakelike fashion and wraps around her victims. A ghost’s face looms large, filling the night sky and impossible to escape. Part of the fun is that the persons targeted by the ghosts typically deserve their fate, comeuppance for their transgressions of hubris and greed. It’s incredibly entertaining and satisfying, and given the terrific start, I’m eager to catch up with the rest of the series.
The Blu-ray edition of the film includes a terrific short documentary outlining the concept of yokai, historically and in popular culture.
Hitch-Hike to Hell (1977)
Howard is a young man who loves his momma and drives a delivery van for a dry-cleaning business. But when he sees a young lady with loose morals, something snaps inside him and he turns into a psychotic killer. Unfortunately this seems to happen whenever he picks up a hitchhiker in his red van (which happens almost comically often over the course of the film). Meanwhile, police detectives are closing in on their serial killer.
It’s not what you’d call good, but it’s oddly compellingly watchable, and has some unique perspectives. Centering the film around its villain is an unusual choice, and at one point (mild spoiler ahead) he even breaks from his pattern of slaying only women to a murder a promiscuous gay man.
Arrow describes the film as “influenced by the depraved crimes of the likes of ‘Co-ed Killer’ Edmund Kemper”, placing some real-life context on this sleazy, low-budget exploitation picture.
Arrow’s transfer is a 2K scan from original film elements; while such scans typically come from some form of “masters” (camera negatives or interpositives), this one looks and feels like an actual theatrical projection print — an aesthetic that I really dig on movies of this kind. The disc features both full frame and widescreen versions of the film as well as a slew of extras.
Creepshow 2 (1987)
The delightful anthology sequel (in concept only; there’s no narrative continuity so you can watch them in any in either order) serves up three ghoulish short tales of the macabre in a tribute to ghastly EC Comics like Tales from the Crypt and The Vault of Horror, which were central to the comics panic of the 1950s (if you don’t know the story, please read up on it — it’s one of the most critical historical landmarks in understanding our consumption and censorship of popular media).
In true EC horror style, each segment has not only a story of mayhem or murder, but a central ethical conflict that anchors the horror by driving home a specific moral precept.
In Old Chief Wood’nhead, rural shopowners — literally mom and pop — are robbed and terrorized by miscreants. But all is seen by the figurehead of a Native American chief that stands outside their store.
The goopily violent The Raft follows a group of teenagers who go out for a swim, but encounter something monstrous in the lake. The final segment, The Hitch-hiker, centers on a woman who accidentally hits a man with her car, then flees the scene. But the man follows…
The segments are bumpered by whimsically macabre mixed animated/live action segments that tell a fourth story of a comics-loving boy who is tormented by bullies. Tom Savini stars as ghoulishly garish host, “The Creep”.
“Like virtually every horror film of its day, Creepshow 2 is movie almost totally influenced by the mid-80s with every story containing some form of ideology reminiscent of the state of society during the era. The backdrop of “Chief Woodn’head” signified the end of small businesses in the age of shopping malls and Reagan-omics, while the danger and fear of pre-martial sex (spurred on by the growing AIDS epidemic) permeates all through “The Raft.” Finally, it’s the ever-present yuppie class that seemed to rule the country for the majority of the decade that’s being attacked during the course of “The Hitchhiker,” proving that the film overall served as a somewhat telling symbol of 1980s America.” — Frank Calvillo
Check out Frank’s review of the Blu-ray edition.
A/V Out.
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Children of the Corn — 4K UHD Blu-ray
Children of the Corn — Blu-ray
Creepshow 2 — Blu-ray
Hitch Hike to Hell — Blu-ray
Yokai Monsters — Blu-ray Box SetExcept where noted, all 16:9 screen images in this review are direct captures from the disc(s) in question with no editing applied, but may have compression or resizing inherent to file formats and Medium’s image system. All package photography was taken by the reviewer.
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ANTLERS is a Faltering, Frustrating Folk Horror Tale
Scott Cooper’s first foray into Horror hungers for thematic weight but ends up hollow
I love Scott Cooper’s films because of their compassionate yet unflinching look at how men create monsters out of themselves. Whether it’s via substance abuse or neglect as in Crazy Heart and Out of the Furnace, or out of misguided pursuits of power and greed like Hostiles and Black Mass, Cooper recognizes how the painful hunger that can drive us all is often filled by something more evil and corrosive. The worlds his characters inhabit are equally rust-ridden and run-down, which also speaks volumes about how these people are able to find the strength to live in spite of these crippling flaws. This evocative struggle against ruin inside and out fueled my excitement when Antlers was first announced as not only Cooper’s first horror film, but one that dared to tackle America’s most ancient of self-cannibalizing myths: the Wendigo. The legendary consequence of daring to cross the taboo of consuming human flesh, this fiery First Nations myth seems ripe for reinterpretation in today’s environmentally ruinous, perpetually divided climate. However, like many of the film’s intriguing yet and ill-resolved plot threads, Cooper bites off far more than can be chewed within Antlers’ runtime. The result is an earnestly explored yet shapeless exercise in socially conscious dread, fueled by fertile concepts yet spends too much time spinning its wheels to head out to territory worth exploring.
Julia Meadows (Keri Russell) has returned to her isolated Oregon hometown to rebuild her life in the wake of her abusive past. Wracked with trauma from abandoning her brother Paul (Jesse Plemons) to escape their abusive father, and struggling at each turn to avoid the easy escape of alcoholism, Julia buries herself in her work as a middle-school teacher. But something isn’t right with young Lucas Weaver (Jeremy T. Thomas), who spends his school time drawing violent, gnarled creatures or carving antlers in his desk, hiding the belongings amongst books on trapping animals, Native American legends, and a fraying copy of the Bible. Tentative visits to the Weaver home suggest a long history connected to the town’s many meth labs, but strange noises from a locked room upstairs stoke fear in Julia. Despite a rising body count, Julia receives ineffective guidance from her school and brother Paul, who struggles to explain these incidents as the reluctant local Sheriff. It’s clear Julia must take matters into her own hands… though doing so will pit her against an ancient creature whose hunger threatens to consume them all.
To much of Antlers’ credit, there are many effective moments in Antlers, each one borne of Cooper’s eye for evoking the right atmosphere and tone from his actors and setting. The small town we’re set in tells its own story from scene to scene, one of shuttered mines and fleeing families, with lines longer at the recovery clinic than the ice cream shoppe next door. The same anxious hope is present in Thomas’ Lucas, who resorts to grisly acts of desperation to keep his monstrous family alive in the hopes they’ll someday get better. It’s also in Russell’s Julia, who earnestly tries to steer her students away from their parents’ crippling paths despite her school’s ineffective administration and her own brother Paul’s reliance on red tape rather than pursue an active (though illegal) alternative course of action. Cooper directs these moments well, with a cast of familiar players from his past films (Plemons! Rory Cochrane!) each providing their own lived-in color to Cooper’s equally familiar canvas of grit and dread. It’s remarkable, too, how Cooper’s strengths as a director of rust-belt misery transpose to horror. Early on, Antlers inspires a gut-churning unease in its flickering lights in dark, blood-spattered family homes and red-and-blue police lights stumbling upon a carcass indiscernible between man and beast.
But Cooper’s greatest strengths often become Antlers’ greatest weaknesses. The slow-burn nature of the story feels more like a damp wick of dynamite constantly being extinguished, as the characters ruminate in repetitive scenes that alternate between bludgeoned hints about their past or furtive glances at another corpse or disturbing drawing. While soaking in the rich dread of a horror film, far too much time passes until the characters actively confront the possibility of the supernatural–forcing Cooper, Henry Chaisson, and Nick Antosca’s screenplay to rely on a sudden dump of exposition and left-turn character decisions. This shift makes Antlers feel like Cooper and company are finally turning Antlers into the Horror film it promises to be at its start, but almost against the film’s own will. What’s more, it takes a fertile concept of Horror rooted in indigenous mythology and sidelines its own creators as mere relayers of monster rules and third-act signposting rather than feature them as characters in their own right.
It’s around here that Antlers feels like it’s missing too much to form a coherent whole. Scenes either dump an unnatural amount of exposition, end abruptly, or feel disjointed from the sequences they belong to. A sudden explanatory montage of the degrading of Lucas’ family takes viewers by surprise as if seeing a reel from earlier in the film suddenly spliced into the second act. This approach is at large through much of Antlers’ thematic concerns, as well. How often do we need to see Keri Russell glance at liquor bottles on a shelf as a cashier waits for her to make a decision, or see Lucas feed the monsters upstairs with another animal without much in the way of progression or regression to contrast these scenes from one another? Where Antlers teases the possibility of new territory to explore, such as what might have happened to Paul in Julia’s absence, the film detours once more to another thematic idea, another hint of horror, another rumination on trauma. Most disappointingly, what is easily one of the best jump scares of 2021 squanders its goodwill by trying to repeat the same scare not once, but twice in a row to characters who somehow don’t hear these events happening in succession despite their proximity to one another. Given a more headstrong, confident approach, this could be a dynamite horror film with an equally biting social message on familial and environmental abuse. However, Antlers dulls the pointedness of its scenes by hitting the same repetitive notes in an increasingly frustrating and slipshod manner.
Antlers is a film that bears the likeness of its monster in the most disappointing of ways. It’s hungry for each of its intriguing themes, but feels all the more hollow once they’re pursued; it shapeshifts to fit what moment it craves, but never fully takes on its identity; and it wears the mask of a genre it never feels like it fully belongs to.
Antlers opens in theaters on October 29th courtesy of Searchlight Pictures.
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Trick or Treat 2021: Two Cents Does Battle with CALTIKI — THE INHUMAN MONSTER
Two Cents is an original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team will program films and contribute our best, most insightful, or most creative thoughts on each film using a maximum of 200 words each. Guest writers and fan comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future entries to the column. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion.
The Pick
There can be no discussion of modern horror without at least touching on the great Italian director, Mario Bava.
A former cinematographer and production designer, Bava created some of the most gorgeous horror films ever made, movies so artfully composed you couldn’t look away even as the blood poured in gallons. Some of Bava’s major achievements include the Gothic masterpiece Black Sunday, the terrifying anthology Black Sabbath (which was a major influence on Pulp Fiction, believe it or not), the proto-slasher Blood and Black Lace, and the lurid Twitch of the Death Nerve (also known as Bay of Blood, by the lame), a giallo film so overstuffed with wild kills that decades later the Friday the 13th series was still ripping it off.
Bava’s directorial career got off to a somewhat disputed start. He began work on Caltiki — The Inhuman Monster, as a cinematographer and special effects supervisor, only to take over production when director Riccardo Freda left the set. Freda claimed he left with only a few days remaining in production, while Bava claimed that the shoot was incredibly difficult on Freda and he abandoned ship with weeks still to go, making Bava the predominant author of the film.
Like other disputed movies, like Poltergeist, the answer to “Who directed this movie?” probably comes down to a matter of perspective, and the debate is so long-running that there will be probably never be a clear answer.
Caltiki is an odd duck no matter who directed. The film seems to be cribbing from The Creature from the Black Lagoon early on, as a group of explorers wade through the jungles of Mexico for clues to a lost civilization, only to stumble into deadly danger.
They inadvertently unleash the creature of a non-person variety, leading to a deadly race against time to find a way to destroy the monster, or become its next meal.
Next Week’s Pick:
For the final week of Trick or Treat 2021, we’re closing things out with one of the most purely fun monsters flicks of the 90s. Stephen Sommers went on to great success with The Mummy franchise, but directly before rebooting Universal’s monster brand, he helmed another less fondly received horror film; this one set at sea and dealing with a Lovecraftian threat from the abyss. Deep Rising has become much more embraced over the years, having much the same relentlessly fun action-comedy vibe as The Mummy, with an eclectic ensemble cast and the freedom afforded by an R rating.
Would you like to be a guest in next week’s Two Cents column? Simply watch and send your under-200-word review to twocents(at)cinapse.co anytime before midnight on Thursday!
The Team
Justin Harlan:
While I suspect my cultured fellow Cinapsians watched this classic monster film in the original Italian with subtitles, I partook in the English dub of Caltiki: The Immortal Monster. Having access to the Arrow release of the film allowed me to be free to choose and 9 out of 10 times, I’ll choose to keep my film viewing and reading as separate activities. It’s simply a preference of mine and, since I’m also in recovery mode from a recent hospital stay, the energy to read without getting drowsy is something I just don’t have right now. [Editor’s note: lead actor John Merivale’s dialogue appears to have been recorded in English and dubbed in Italian, so much like spaghetti western productions, the Italian and English versions are equally valid — Austin].
That said, this is a standard lower budget monster movie of the era. The sets and script alike are not all that convincing, and, the era’s melodramatic flairs are all on display. Sadly, the flairs of Bava’s influence on the film’s direction are not as present as I’d like to see. It’s not a horrible watch, especially at a brisk 76 minutes. But alas…
Verdict: TRICK (@thepaintedman)
What I really dug about this one is just how much it does recall the aesthetic and general vibe of the likes of Creature from the Black Lagoon, or the other “shot on a backlot” studio monster pictures…right up until Caltiki starts to eat people at which this film’s true, lurid nature is allowed to stand tall, proud, and bleeding from a dozen different places.
Bava would one-up himself over and over again, leaving Caltiki feeling like something of a false-start. But you can see his later genius indicated in many of the early, incredibly moody shots with striking compositions, and with the ease with gore and mayhem, rendered with such painstaking attention to detail and loving care that the annihilated human bodies becomes twisted art projects. It’s often sickening, and yet you never especially want to look away.
Verdict: TREAT (@TheTrueBrendanF)
Caltiki is admittedly a bit slow and has some considerable downtime between the “good parts” but boy does it get cooking.
It’s one of the earliest films to employ lots of gruesome body horror, and it remains effective. The blob-like creature obliterates flesh on contact, and we’re treated to several examples of this as faces and hands are deliquesced down to the bone.
Filippo Sanjust and Riccardo Freda’s B-movie script, full of contemporary tropes (The Blob, jungle expeditions, atomic age sci-fi) is elevated by the gorgeous style and cinematography of Mario Bava. Nocturnal scenes in particular are bathed in moody lighting and shadows that provide an unusual sense beauty and drama to the matinee subject matter.
Verdict: TREAT! (@VforVashaw)
Trick: 1
Treat: 2Verdict: TREAT!
Further Reading:
https://cinapse.co/arrow-heads-vol-43-caltiki-the-immortal-monster-1959-8367365e9cb
Next week’s pick:
https://cinapse.co/arrow-heads-vol-43-caltiki-the-immortal-monster-1959-8367365e9cb
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Criterion Review: ONIBABA (1964)
A classic of Japanese horror receives a long-awaited upgrade to Blu-ray
During a prolonged period of intense Civil War, two unnamed women living in a vast marshland take to brutal yet necessary methods of survival. The pair are far apart in age; the younger woman (Jitsuko Yoshimura) is married to the older woman’s (Nobuko Otowa) son, who’s presumed dead in battle. Reliant on each other to survive, however, they equally bear the burdens of their nomadic way of life. They hunt and fish. They maintain their ramshackle hut, set amidst towering reeds and impenetrable mud. They barter with lecherous men who offer food and liquor in exchange for a night with them.
But unwilling to sacrifice their bodies in this fashion (or, in the Older Woman’s case in the men’s hungry eyes, no longer able to), the women sacrifice others. If a Samurai crosses their path, the women strike, murdering them in cold blood and scavenging their belongings before dumping them down a bottomless pit. Much like his other films Kuroneko and The Naked Island, director Kaneto Shindo explores here the primal physicality of human hunger, both when it comes to literal survival and other reptilian needs. With Onibaba, he creates a frenzied pressure cooker of desire: where carnal longing finds itself manifested in both the natural and supernatural world.
While billed as one of Japan’s best Horror films, much of the terror of Onibaba is rooted in the evils we’re capable of rather than external spirits or demons. Like The Naked Island, there is a ritualization to the women’s suffering, their Sisyphean trudging through the muck of the marshland suggesting a prolonged toil regardless of whether it’s wartime or peace in the valleys beyond. Humans aren’t made to suffer, as brief moments of respite between the two reflect, but the harsh conditions of their environment make it necessary. One of those brutal factors is their role as women in a medieval men’s world, where killing Samurai and selling their garb is the lesser of two evils compared to having to sleep with them in order to survive. The film’s production and sound design beautifully evoke the perpetually noisy emotional muck of this world, with a fetishistic focus on the endlessly whipping reeds and primordial ooze of the mud and rivers surrounding their huts. Every step feels like an ordeal, and every bit of propped-up lodging the result of hours of labor. Likewise, the thrumming of pigeons and shaking of grass reflects the never-ending racing minds of the characters, who by circumstance are kept in fight-or-flight mode at all times.
When they learn from neighboring Hachi (Kei Sato) that the Older Woman’s son/Younger Woman’s husband has been killed, nothing else socially ties the two women together aside from their mutually-beneficial serial murder streak. The Younger Woman is seduced by Hachi–and learns she can live independently of her mother-in-law once more. Likewise, the Older Woman realizes just how much she’s lost: she cannot kill their Samurai prey without her daughter-in-law’s aid. At a crucial moment, though, the Older Woman is successful…and her latest victim provides a masked new opportunity to prevent her daughter-in-law from falling permanently into Hachi’s clutches. However, Supernatural forces are now at play, enacting karmic justice for all of the actions of the characters in Onibaba (which translates to “Devil Woman”).
This spooky turn in the plot comes surprisingly late in the film’s runtime compared to Shindo’s later Kuroneko, which sees its own mother/daughter-in-law pairing becomes vengeful spirits right off the bat. However, this shocking development feels just as much of an organic part of the story as this other entry in Shindo’s filmography. In a world so beset by vengeance and greed, who’s to say that the cosmic repercussions of such grim necessity can’t continue on into the next life? Where Onibaba excels in adapting this Buddhist folklore, though, and why it feels so naturally ingrained in the story, is how Shindo’s karmic justice for his characters doesn’t feel like a total judgment of their behavior. The Older Woman’s mischievous plot to ensnare her daughter-in-law for good is comparable to the Younger Woman’s abandonment of her elders. Likewise, both women’s slaying of the Samurai in their path feels not just like a welcome alternative to their suppliance to the men surrounding them, but a deserved retribution against the men’s advances and a primal defense of what agency they have left. The supernatural appearance of the mask, then, feels like a sense of justice from beyond the grave–of the Samurai who did nothing but cross these women’s path, whose murders (while necessary from the Women’s point of view) were still sudden and deserving of vengeance from the Samurai’s viewpoint.
A long-awaited upgrade since Criterion began issuing DVDs in the later end of 2008, Onibaba has finally received a Blu-ray to add to collections of Kaneto Shindo completists, horror aficionados, and all other sorts of Criterion collectors. This edition not only ports over the special features from the 2004 DVD release, but includes for the first time an Audio Commentary with Kaneto Shindo, Kei Sato, and Jitsuko Yoshimura, as well as a new essay by film critic Elena Lazic.
Video/Audio
Criterion presents Onibaba in its original 2.39:1 aspect ratio with a 1080p HD transfer sourced from a scan of a 35mm fine-grain print restored by the Criterion Collection. Accompanying the transfer is an LPCM monaural Japanese audio track, remastered from an optical soundtrack print.
While sourced from the same master as Criterion’s original DVD release, this new Blu-ray is a step up in visual clarity, with the undulating reeds of the marshland and beads of sweat on the characters’ brows all individually defined. Kiyomi Kuroda’s masterful black-and-white cinematography is best represented in Onibaba’s stark tableaux, with black levels well-delineated especially in a sequence of the Younger Woman and Hachi struggling, lit up in white light against the murky darkness of the reeds. The monaural audio track dutifully showcases the film’s experimental sound design, which was surprisingly all dubbed and created in post-production out of necessity due to the harsh diegetic sounds on location. Sparse dialogue, the shrieks of the dead, thundering drums, and the sleek whispers of swaying reeds all have moments to shine throughout.
Special Features
- Audio Commentary: This 2001 archival track featuring director Kaneto Shindo and actors Kei Sato (Hachi) and Jitsuko Yoshimura (Younger Woman) is full of amusing on-set anecdotes including constructing a prefab building for the cast and crew to lodge together on the marshland, biweekly escapes to Tokyo, the grueling realism faced by the crew in filling to-scale marsh huts with scorching studio lighting, and the widely popular legacy Shindo’s film has received in the decades since its premiere.
- Kaneto Shindo: This 21-minute 2003 interview with the late director of Onibaba contextualizes the film in his ultimately 48-film career, the deliberately sparse nature of his adaptation of the original Buddhist fable, the immoral necessities faced by the characters in wartime, and the dynamic relationship the film’s cinematography and natural production design have to the inner turmoil of the characters.
- On-Location Footage: 37 minutes of black-and-white and color footage captured by actor Kei Sato including the long journey through the Japanese countryside to the film’s set, cast and crew meals, the confined quarters shared by all when performing their duties, and how all spent their leisure time in between takes.
- Trailer for Onibaba’s Japanese theatrical release.
- Booklet featuring a new essay by film critic Elena Lazic, a 2001 director’s statement by Kaneto Shindo, and a translated version of the Buddhist fable that inspired Onibaba.
Onibaba is now available on Blu-ray courtesy of The Criterion Collection.
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STREAMtober: Halloween Picks for the Kids on Prime, Apple TV+, and HBO Max
FIELD OF STREAMS continues its OctoStreamber haunts and hits with more suggestions for family viewing
Welcome to Field of Streams, Cinapse’s weekly guide of what’s playing on your favorite streaming services. What’s new on Netflix and Amazon Prime? What do we recommend on Kanopy, Hoopla, and Shudder? We’ve got it all. From topical roundups, to curated top 5 lists, to reviews of our favorites available now… it’s here. We built it for you, so come and join us in the Field of Streams.
We’ve already taken a look at some of the great Halloween family fare on Disney+, but there’s plenty more to choose from on various platforms.
The Monster Squad (1987) — Amazon Prime
Wolfman’s got gnarly pals in Fred Dekker’s classic kids’ fright flick that’s basically an epic team-up film for Universal’s classic monsters. But standing in the way of Dracula, Gillman, Wolfman, and the Mummy is a group of horror-loving kids who possess the journal of Abraham Van Helsing, aided by some new pals including Frankenstein’s Monster.
A treat for monster kids of all ages, The Monster Squad film leaves Prime at the end of the month; just enough time to catch it for Halloween.
Troll (1986) — Amazon Prime
You know the story well. A boy named Harry Potter grapples with a new environment, trains to become a wizard, wins the respect of his teacher – a grandmotherly witch, and even tangles with a troll. It’s that classic favorite…
Troll!
Despite the uncanny resemblances predating a much more famous franchise (every word above is true), Troll remains forever shadowed by its notoriously maligned, belovedly bad sequel, Troll 2. Which is kind of a bummer, because this movie is actually a pretty great fantasy tale that mixes its scary themes with a wistful and unexpected sense of pathos, not unlike Guilllermo del Toro’s lament for faerie lost in Hellboy II. The great Phil Fondacaro also pops in with a wonderful role, and the supporting cast also includes Michael Moriarty, Sonny Bono, and future spouses Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Brad Hall.
Younger kids should steer clear of this PG-13 rated film, but for those who can handle it, especially Harry Potter fans, this is a little seen, creature-filled wonder that’s well worth checking out.
It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966) — Apple TV+
The Peanuts Gang’s most famous and beloved special is undoubtedly their original Christmas tale, but The Great Pumpkin is pretty safely ensconced at second place. Linus heralds the coming of “The Great Pumpkin”, a seasonal figure that’s something like the Halloween equivalent of Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny — his friends remain unconvinced.
The Corpse Bride (2005) — HBO Max
A follow-up of sorts to The Nightmare Before Christmas, Tim Burton’s The Corpse Bride finds him returning to the world of stop-motion animation, this time in the director’s chair.
It’s the story of Victor, a young man who inadvertently gets wrapped up in a love triangle between his betrothed and a dead woman whom he accidentally reanimates as he practices his vows in the woods.
While Emily the “corpse bride” is at first terrifying, she reveals a world of the dead which is more vibrant, colorful, and full of life than the drab, dirty, and mirthless real world of the living. It’s an interesting juxtaposition which may go over the heads of younger viewers, but the themes of love and selflessness won’t.
Garfield’s Halloween Adventure (1985) — $1.99 on Prime
It’s not part of any current subscription model and doesn’t fit our usual format, but for two bucks you can buy what’s probably the greatest Halloween TV Special of all time (or at least, my personal favorite).
Garfield and Odie are looking forward to an evening of trick or treating and getting loaded up with candy. But fate has something else in store, and the duo end up in spooky encounters with monsters who may or may not be in costumes, a creepy old man, and a band of ghost pirates. What I love most about this tale is that the spooks are real — no cop-outs or pranks or “it was all a dream”. Just a great Garfield adventure with freaking ghost pirates.
Other picks to consider include Ernest Scared Stupid on Hoopla, Hubie Halloween and Paranorman on Netflix, Ghoulies 1 & 2 on HBO Max, and Ghostbusters (2016) and Goosebumps 1 & 2 on Fubo. Gather the family and have a happy STREAMtober Halloween!
There are countless services to explore and great things to watch on all of them. Which ones did we miss that you would suggest to us? Tell us what we’re missing out on or what new services we should check out by leaving a comment below or emailing us.
Till next week, stream on, stream away.
Further reading:
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BERGMAN ISLAND’s Intricate Maze
Director Mia Hansen-Løve crafts a celebration of the Swedish director that keeps her own flavor
Vicky Krieps and Tim Roth in BERGMAN ISLAND. During an early dinner scene in Bergman Island, a character says of the Swedish auteur, “Bergman was as cruel in his art as in his life.” This and other comments made at the dinner lead the viewer to realize that this film from Mia Hansen-Løve will not be an uncomplicated ode to Ingmar Bergman. Filmmakers Chris (Vicky Krieps, The Phantom Thread) and Tony (Tim Roth, Lie to Me) venture to the island, where Bergman once wrote and filmed, for a short residency in one of his cottages. They hope to be inspired by their surroundings.
While Tony hosts a screening of one of his films and takes the Bergman Safari, a tour bus that navigates the island, Chris has more of an adventurous streak. She’s led to a beach by a student and fan of her work and later cycles in vain to find a house that doesn’t exist anymore. She stumbles across Tony’s notebook and feels less confident about her own tentative project, which she then tells her partner about. And this is where Bergman Island turns into something more.
As in Hong Sang-Soo’s In Another Country (2012), we hear a fictional director talking about her idea for a film while performers act the scenes out. Mia Wasikowska (Stoker, Crimson Peak) is Chris’s main character Amy, rekindling a flame with Joseph (Anders Danielsen Lie, Oslo August 31st) during a wedding weekend… on the same island the filmmakers are currently on. This twist and more to follow give Mia Hansen-Løve’s film a depth and mystery that the first part of the work offered no hint of.
The soul of Bergman Island is this film-within-a-film, where the stakes for Chris’s characters seem more consequential than our limited time with Chris and Ron allowed us a glimpse of. A Mia Hansen-Løve movie moment that remains with me is Isabelle Huppert’s Nathalie singing “À La Claire Fontaine” to her new grandchild in Things to Come. The director has yet again created such a memorable musical scene, this time featuring Amy letting herself go to ABBA’s “Winner Takes It All.” Reader: I rewound my screener to watch it twice.
While Bergman Island starts off slow, by the end, I was fully immersed in the story. The unusual time line of the storytelling, and the unexpected method of it, fascinates the viewer. The film is a quiet dedication to the art of filmmaking, from an artist’s conception of an idea to the production itself. And even a Bergman novice such as I can appreciate that.
Bergman Island is currently out in theaters and will be available on VOD starting Fri, Oct. 22.
