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Posted by Duane on Sunday, October 01, 2006 @ 00:00:00 Mountain Daylight Time

“There’s more to this film than just another big motherfuckin’ dude with a big motherfuckin’ knife…”

And so upon finding out that this month’s Roundtable was going to be Masters Of Horror, given our close proximity to Halloween, my choice of was a simple one. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, ever one for seamless originality, I bring you the finest work by legendary director John Carpenter – Halloween. I bet you never saw that one coming.

Halloween is perhaps the most influential and important horror movie to ever unleash its bloody rage upon society, with perhaps the exception of Alfred Hitchcock, whom was reportedly a massive influence upon Carpenter’s legendary outing into the world of suspense and the macabre. The effect this film has had on the film industry is like a tidal wave in its intensity and impact, sweeping aside old ideas and an increasingly stale genre with a fresh new vision – a vision that would later be raped into submission by countless re-makes, sequels, Hollywood committee thinking and the so-called ‘brain-dead 80’s MTV generation.’ One thing is for certain – many of today’s top horror directors are heavily influenced by Carpenter and his style – Wes Craven, for instance, would probably still be writing for The Twilight Zone had this movie not been made.

This is ironic, given that when this film was released into cinemas on October 25th 1978, barely anyone paid any notice – the film falling to a mixture of poor reviews and poor takings at the box office. The yawns of the world were deafening as critics quickly brushed over what they saw as a piece of unimaginative garbage by an unknown young director. Also as crippling (initially, at least) was the silent ambivalence of fans, who could have made or broken the movie, but decided to leave it alone in search of bigger and brighter things, and what other cinematic bullshit was on sale at the time. Bear in mind, this is before the era of teenage fanboys, geeky teenagers and slasher-fiends – fan groups which in my mind were invented partly by the fame this film would eventually capture.

The saviour of our story is Tom Allen, writer for The Village Voice, who saw real promise in this small and overlooked film, making comparisons with the work of the aforementioned Alfred Hitchcock, praising the eerie camera work and pacing of Carpenter, and the performances of its young cast, including then unknown Jamie Lee Curtis. (This was her first role and one which would have her pigeon-holed as a ‘scream queen’ for the next decade.) Quick to jump on the bandwagon were more prominent critics like Roger Ebert, who praised the film in 1979. With such hard-hitting critical acclaim and vigorously spreading word-of-mouth, the film enjoyed something of a re-birth, grossing over $45 million in the ‘States alone – a figure made even more impressive when you consider the film cost just $315,000 to make. The commercial success of the piece would inspire countless sequels, spin-offs and clones, all clamouring for the same kind of fame and appeal the original now suddenly enjoyed.

I can almost certainly guarantee that you have seen this film before, given its mass appeal and legendary status. However, for those of you out there who’ve been living in a cave since the 70’s, here’s a recap on what to expect when you finally embrace society and the world of the moving image…

A naughty, demented little boy called Michael Myers (not to be confused with the geeky comic who brought us the Austin Powers films) brutally slays his sister with a kitchen knife after witnessing them doing the dirty. The brutal humanity of what he sees before him, it seems, triggers some kind of evil impulse to slay and rend flesh and paint the walls red. His immediate incarceration in a high-security asylum does nothing to quench his homicidal tendencies, despite being locked up until his 21st birthday. His blank, soul-less, emotionless eyes and sheer, unbridled psychosis leave fear in the hearts of whomever he comes across; most notably Dr Sam Loomis, the poor bastard charged with healing Myer’s mind. As Loomis, played with amazing skill by Donald Pleasance, solemnly puts it;

“I met him, fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six-year-old child, with this blind, pale, emotionless face and, the blackest eyes... the Devil’s eyes! I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up for I realized what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... evil!”

But then, on Halloween, Myers goes missing from his padded cell, headed back to his home town where he first murdered his sister, hell-bent of murder, death, mayhem and all the other chaos you’d expect from such a knife-swinging madman. Indeed, no-one is safe, especially the frivolous teenagers who walk the streets, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks in the shadows.

It’s not the violence that scares the living crap out of this film’s audiences, however. Unlike many of the recycled and unimaginative ‘slasher’ clones that would follow, there is relatively little violence and barely any blood. The very vision of Myers is scary, his face covered in a white, ghost-like mask with dark, corpse-like eyes peering out maliciously from underneath. He stands motionless in shadows, stalking his prey, watching over them with a terrifying calm – it’s almost as if he’s beyond human, one step closer to the grave than the victims he chases. By the film’s brutal third act, there has been so much tension built up around this man that he becomes almost monster-like, invincible as he prowls near-invincible after his final victim – it’s as if he’s evolved to become the very personification of unstoppable evil, as if the vengeance of hell itself courses through his sick, twisted veins. (It is little surprise that Myers is infact credited as ‘The Shape’ and would not gain the moniker Michael Myers until the 1981 sequel.)

The acting in this film is so good it seems natural – these could be real teenagers you see before you. Jamie Lee Curtis especially personifies the girl-next-door, an innocent charm seems to ooze effortlessly from her person as she goes about her Halloween painfully unknowing of the fear that lurks around the corner. The highlight, however, is certainly Donald Pleasance in possibly his best ever performance. As Dr Loomis he seems terrified to his very core of this monster that walks the streets, talking of Michael as more than a man, perhaps a pigmentation of Ze Deeevil Himself. (Is his performance here better than that of Ernst Stavro Blofeld? Time will tell.)

Perhaps the most understated aspect of this film is its awe-inspiring soundtrack, played with terrifying precision by Carpenter himself – the same creepy piano tones eerily dance through the film, raising the hairs on your skin. It’s like electricity in your veins. The soundtrack has now become almost as immortal as the film itself, instantly recognizable and in my mind the second most effective and recognizable horror theme of all time (behind the Exorcist.) Perhaps if Carpenter had seen the impact his music would have, or the commercial impact the film would attain, he would not have given credit for the music to the ‘Bowling Green Orchestra.’ Regardless, it is impressive that the author of such a haunting piece claims not to know a single note.

I could go on for days about the virtues, the ins-and-outs and various other facets of this legendary film, but I’m not going to. If you have even half a brain and even the most limited knowledge of horror cinema, you’ll have already seen this film – many of you will probably already have its DVD sitting proudly on your shelf. For those hermits out there yet to witness this epic event in cinema history, I recommend you get of your wide ass right now.

Unlike the vast majority of horror flick down the years – most of which are the absolute drizzling shit – this film brings subtlety, pacing, tension and character building to the table. Despite Myer’s “dead man walking” qualities, he seems painfully realistic in his grim humanity – a universe away from the one man army statue of self-parody he would one day become. This is by no means just another slasher flick, this is by no means another piece of retro splatter to waste your time with. This is an epic. A classic. This is, in my mind, perhaps the greatest horror movie ever made.

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Rogue Reviewers Roundtable Topic: Masters of Horror

David's Review Site: Death by Cinema

Posted by Duane on Sunday, October 01, 2006 @ 00:00:00 Mountain Daylight Time

Psychotherapy ensues. The patient is looking the doctor in the eye as they role play. Doctor Raglan insults and browbeats the patient until he rips his shirt off and has numerous burns over his stomach and back. A group leaves impressed by Raglan’s demonstration. Frank picks up his daughter, Candy. They leave the clinic where Frank’s wife Nola is staying. At home, Frank discovers that Candy has a number of cuts and bites on Candy’s back.

Later, Frank sees Doctor Raglan and demands to see his wife. The good father is sure that Nola has abused and beaten Candy during her weekend visit and won’t bring Candy back again. Raglan claims that if Candy isn’t there for the weekend visits he’ll insure that Frank will lose custody. Doctor Raglan has another session with Nola.

Frank discusses the problem with his attorney who warns him not to go against Doctor Raglan. Frank decides to get witnesses to impeach Raglan’s credibility or to prove the guy’s a complete fraud. He visits Nola’s mother and leaves Candy there to spend the night.

Back at the clinic, Nola has another session. Raglan assumes the identity of Candy. Nola starts ranting about her mother. Raglan wants her to go all the way as creepy music starts.

Candy and Grandmother Julia look at old pictures. Something breaks out of a cabinet. Julia hears the noise in the kitchen and goes to investigate. A Killer Rage Midget strikes her repeatedly while Candy is in the living room. When the little girl goes to check on her grandmother, the Killer Rage Midget runs away. At Frank’s construction site, he gets a call how the police discovered Julia’s body and Candy asleep upstairs. The police psychiatrist questions Candy. The police ask Frank about Julia’s ex-husband. Frank talks with the police shrink who is sure Candy saw something but is blocking the memory.

Apparently, Nola is terrified that Frank thinks she’ll turn into her mother. Roleplaying, Raglan assumes the role of Daddy. Nola is sure that Frank is against her. As the role playing continues, Nola rants show her father didn’t try to stop her mother from beating her.

Frank meets with Jan, one of the disgruntled patients. Apparently, Frank and Jan’s lawyers know each other. Jan is suing Raglan for physiological damage. The therapy caused lymphoma which is killing him. Jan is just suing Raglan to generate bad publicity. Frank leaves and is getting suitably disturbed.

Frank picks Candy up at the school. He talks with Candy’s teacher, Ruth, about Candy when Barton calls. The obvious drunk Barton couldn’t talk to Nola and will head back to the clinic. Frank decides to go with him. Ruth stays to keep an eye on Candy. Killer Rage Midget is stalking Barton as Frank heads to pick him up. Barton has tried to distill liquor in his stomach is at least 4 sheets to the wind by this point. The Killer Rage Midget strikes as pseudo-Psycho music ensues. Frank heads in the house and is jumped by the Killer Rage Midget.

At Police Headquarters, the cops think Julia had a deformed child that got out of the attic. Frank is talking with the doctor performing the autopsy. The Killer Rage Midget has no retinas, can’t talk, no teeth but has beak like gums, no sexual organs, no belly button. It isn’t born like humans are.

Candy goes to school. A couple of kids in snow suits grab hammers. They’re KILLER RAGE MIDGETS and attack Ruth. One kid goes for help and brings Frank who finds Ruth has been beaten to death and that Candy is gone. Frank and the cops look for Candy. Elsewhere, Candy and the KILER RAGE MIDGETS are walking down the road.

Frank learns that Dr. Raglan is working with kids in a shed that Nola cares for. Frank heads to the clinic. At the clinic, Frank finds Dr. Raglan demanding to know where Candy is and reveals that Ruth is dead. Raglan warns that they’ll kill Frank if he interferes. Dr. Raglan admits that Nola is the mother of the KILLER RAGE MIDGETS. Her rage created them and went after her parents. However, Nola doesn’t realize she is subconsciously controlling them. Raglan wants Frank to try to calm Nola down. When the Brood is calm, he’ll get Candy out.

Frank talks with Nola. Understanding conversation ensues. As Raglan skulks up through the shed, Nola has been through a number of strange things. Frank wants to be part of her new life. Then, a KILLER RAGE MIDGET crawls out of NOLA!!!

Raglan is trying to find Candy, while Nola seems to be enjoying some placenta chili. Frank is suitably disturbed. Nola is getting mad at Frank. The Brood awakens. Raglan sends Candy to Frank. The good doctor starts shooting at the KILLER RAGE MIDGETS. However, too many of them overpower and kill him. Nola starts ranting about how she’d kill Candy before letting Frank have her. The KILLER RAGE MIDGETS notice Candy who escapes the room. Frank tries forcing Nola to realize the KILLER RAGE MIDGETS do what she want. Frank strangles her which stops the KILLER RAGE MIDGETS. He leaves with Candy.

Note: I'm not sure if the Nola's children of rage are supposed to be midgets or dwarves. Though with all the fantasy stuff lately, dwarves have had enough publicity. So midgets got the break to be called the children of rage.

Some people have a reputation that precedes them. David Cronenberg is one of them. Normally, he is known as being twisted or sick monkey. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Most of his movies seem to be tied together with medical horror, disease/sex or mind/body. Think about the maggot birth in the Fly or Jeff Goldblum's slow transformation and loss of humanity to something else. I'm sure that Crash, eXistenZ, Dead Ringers, and most of his others movies would fit into that category.

I'm not really a Cronenberg fan. Dead Zone is one of the better Stephen King adaptations. The Fly, I had to watch at some point. Even with everything going for it, I'm still partial to the original because it has Vincent Price. Well, Scanners has one of the true great moments in gore with the exploding head. It isn't hard to find an animated gif of that scene. I haven't gotten around to watching History of Violence.

Cronenberg wrote the Brood going through a rough divorce and custody battle at the time. Do you think he managed to purge any demons with this movie? His soon-to-be ex-wife couldn't be too happy with such a video letter coming out at the time. You get the feeling that Cronenberg didn't have much sympathy for Nola's character. The end has her husband strangling her to save the daughter. I hate to think Cronenberg intended that as some sort of message to his ex-wife.

Samantha Eggar comes across as very unsympathetic which is nice way to put it. Uber-beeeeyotchhhhhhhhh is less polite way. Almost every scene with her is her in therapy and screaming. Near the end, Nola starts ranting about making sure that her daughter, Candy, won't be alive to live with Frank. That rouses the KILLER RAGE MIDGETS to chase after Candy. I get the feeling Cronenberg was determined to make sure that the sympathy of the audiences always fell on her husband.

The scientist tampering in domains they have no right to explore are required to die by the hands of their creation. How many times has Frankenstein been killed by the hands of his monster? Every scientist that creates some monster must be killed for all the suffering they cause. The entire Wages of Science is death corollary. Psychoplasmics isn't quite mind over matter. Somehow, negative emotions can be used to physically scar the body. That doesn't sound like something anyone would want to do. Take you depression away and leave you with skin tumors or continually giving birth to creepy KILLER RAGE MIDGETS and placenta chili.

The first attack was very reminiscent of the shower scene from Psycho especially the music. Granted, the Killer Midget attack was more violent. The blood was shown to spatter on the floor far more tamely than say Peter Jackson's Bad Taste which reveled in its excess. Still, grunting killer midgets do seem freaky which is almost a byword for Cronenberg.

For the most part, Frank comes across as fairly sympathetic well except for doing everything but just flat out asking Candy's teacher, Ruth, out on a date. We don't really known how much he had to endure his wife's breakdown. If she was acting half as deranged as in her role play sessions before being committed, Frank does seem more understandable. Still, a guy virtually hitting on his daughter's teacher while his wife is undergoing mental therapy and daughter has witnessed at least one brutal murder does have very bad feel about it.

This movie has a lot more depth than what Leonard Maltin's movie guide describes it as something to the effect of Samantha Eggar eats her own afterbirth and killer midgets club grandparents to death. Film school students can throw large words about how movies are profound, artistic, etc. Not being a film critic, I'll leave the deeper meanings to those qualified like Joe Bob Briggs and stick to the horror aspects.

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Rogue Reviewers Roundtable Topic: Masters of Horror

Danny's Review Site: Side Order of Ninjas