Bay of Blood (1971)

Being Film #5 in Hail Horror 4, and a contribution to the Hugo Stiglitz Makes Movies Italian Horror Blog-a-thon

Most of what I know about Mario Bava comes from reading: the grandfather of Italian Horror, creator of the giallo genre and a prime influence on generations of filmmakers, among them Dario Argento, who would go on to refine and bring the genre to a legion of fans worldwide. But my practical film experience with Bava was limited to BLACK SUNDAY, admittedly a masterpiece of mood and a great movie to boot, but not really indicative of what I was about to see in BAY OF BLOOD, aka TWITCH OF THE DEATH NERVE.

A twisted version of an Agatha Christie mystery, BAY OF BLOOD starts out with the death of an insect, falling into the aforementioned bay. Within the next eight minutes the other two characters we meet, a wheelchair-bound old woman and a mysterious man are also killed with no explanation. The mysterious man throws a noose around the woman's next and kicks her wheelchair out from under her, leaving her to the die as her useless legs scrape against the floor. The man's victory is short-lived, as seconds later he's stabbed multiple times and slowly dragged away from the scene by someone unseen. These two murders set the scene for the rest of BAY OF BLOOD, as the rest of the characters introduced in short order either kill or die or do both as the mystery as to who the woman was and why she died comes to light.

A lot of BAY OF BLOOD may seem familiar to someone watching it for the first time: that's because large chunks of the film have been re-cycled over and over again in the slasher films we've all come to know and love, most notably FRIDAY THE 13th (reviewed here years ago), which utilizes the killer POV, the basic setting (trading a set of houses on the bay for a camp on the lake), right down to one of FRIDAY's more audacious kills (from the second film): the spearing of two kids making love:

But where BAY OF BLOOD outshines FRIDAY is in the glee it takes with its despicable cast of characters. No one is good - everyone is after something, and murder seems to be a small price to pay to get it. The only people seemingly innocent of the whole thing is the one piece of BAY OF BLOOD that falters - in the middle of everything that's happening a group of four kids our joyriding in a car that looks suspiciously like Speed Buggy wind up at the house where the old woman was murdered and decide to fool around and explore, and are of course promptly all killed within minutes. Later on their deaths are used to make a connection between two of the principle players later, but the whole sequence feels kind of wedged in, despite being a LOT of fun to watch.

Bava, who's also credited as one of the screenwriters as well as the DP, shows a great sense of lurid style, using bright colors juxtaposed with some of the dark surroundings, and a clever (if not always successful) use of going in and out of focus, particularly when coming up to a weapon. The film may not look very expensive, but it doesn't look cheap in any way, either. There a re plenty of great moments that are reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock, including a swimming scene where one of the girls gets her leg caught on a line that's holding down a dead body. When it rises to the surface, it makes its presence known by slowly floating toward her until its decayed hand prods her on the buttocks. The deaths are all flashy and use copious amounts of bright red, but the kicker has to be the ending, giving a big middle finger and a raspberry to everything that went on before it, all to a bright, sunny soundtrack.

As a history lesson BAY OF BLOOD shows exactly where so many of the tropes we've come to expect from our 80s slasher horror comes from, and also shows that it can be executed with a sense of style often missing from its larger budgeted descendants. Factor in the sweet ending and you have a great introduction to Bava's work as well as a film worthy for any midnight marathon.

Deadgirl (2008)

Being Film #4 in Hail Horror 4

You might have noticed a bit of a trend here: I'm trying to alternate between older, vintage films and some of the newer releases. I also want to try and make some of these more concise, so pardon if things feel a little awkward at first.

Although, watching DEADGIRL, a small independent film that made a splash at last year's Fantastic Fest, awkward would be a relief. DEADGIRL is an ugly, twisted film that goes to places that what passes for "Torture Porn" films like the HOSTEL and SAW movies only dream of traveling to. Rickie and J.T are two low-life high school students who decide to skip school during a fire drill to chug some beers and cause a little trouble down at the abandoned old mental institution. The name of the movie comes from what they find stuck down in the place's basement: a filthy, emaciated young woman, chained to a table and covered in a transparent tarp. She moans, moves - she's alive.

Or maybe not. The horror isn't in whether or the chained girl is alive, dead, human, or something else...the horror stems from the increasingly sick acts of depravity committed by J.T. and his friends as peer pressure combined with the allure of being able to do anything to the girl without repercussion escalates until soon what began as a secret between two friends gets out, leading to some serious awfulness.

Done on a shoestring budget, writer Trent Haaga and directors Marcel Sarmiento and Gadi Harel have crafted a film that doesn't shy away from its content, but also doesn't use it gratuitously - despite the actions in DEADGIRL, this is the furthest thing from the current "torture porn" genre. The writing is smart and dead-on in the way it deals with the small moments between friends and family, and the way it plays with the zombie genre it's got its foot in. The acting is largely done by relative unknowns, but they're completely effective at making everything feel believable and rooted in the real world. Noah Segan's J.T. is one of the most twisted, sadistic people I've seen in a film in a long time, and his scenes play out so that even as you're turning away from his actions you can't. Shiloh Fernandez is Rickie, and he has a hard role as the protagonist, and as you watch the decisions he makes by the end of the film it feels both heartbreaking and inevitable.

These are the types of films we should be seeing in wider release. DEADGIRL is smart and truly frightening for showing us the horror that's within ourselves. Essential horror viewing - I can't wait to see what the team behind this movie does next.

Raw Meat (1972)

Being Film #3 in Hail Horror 4. Thanks to Dennis Cozzalio of Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule for the recommendation.

Man do I miss the 70s. Remember when people wore mustaches? And I don't mean those sparse wisps of hair that look like they've been applied with dabs of saliva that are popular right now - I mean thick, Tom Selleck "I-mean-business" mustaches, the kind that will look after you in a bar fight and lend you a fiver when you're short for the next round.

Mustaches don't have a lot to do with RAW MEAT (also known as DEATH LINE), a crazy little film about a series of disappearances in a London subway system, but they're there, on the face of the first character we see, a gentleman in nice clothes and a bowler hat ducking in and out of various strip clubs while the film's score throbs like a seedy porn soundtrack that's been left in the dirt for too long, buzzing and pulsing with an ominous low-end. It's also on the face of Christopher Lee, who puts in a cameo as an MI5 operative who comes to warn Inspector Calhoun (Donald Pleasence) off the case of the missing man, who it turns out is a powerful figure in the English government. They're there, and it's just another piece of the pie that makes RAW MEAT such a hilarious treat of a movie to watch.

The crux of the story is that almost a hundred years ago the company digging the rail tunnels had an accident - a tunnel collapsed, trapping the men and women inside (it's said that in those days men and women worked the tunnels together). Since the company was facing bankruptcy, they left the people there to die. or, as the surveyor explains to Calhoun, they also could have lived off the water and bodies of those who died.

Which is of course exactly what happened.

Not much of a mystery, especially since what's happening is explained within the first 15 minutes of RAW MEAT. But this is a movie where you don't go for the story. Nor for the two romantic leads who are pretty forgettable and whose story is utterly predictable. No. You're going into this for one reason and one reason only:

The bug-shit best Donald Pleasence performance I've ever seen.

Maybe I haven't seen enough of the man's work, but I've always considered Pleasence to be the perfect milquetoast - quiet, easily cowed when threatened, quiet and mousy if somewhat dignified, much like his roles in THE GREAT ESCAPE and HALLOWEEN. Well take that persona, flip it 180 degrees and give it a Scotch (a double, preferably) and you have his laugh-out loud portrayal of Inspector Calhoun - a man who loves his tea, likes to get drunk and make fun of his assistant (the equally funny Norman Rossington), steal liquor from a suspect's house, and basically give up on a case when he's too hungover or frustrated to care. It would be a mistake to think this was due to any flippancy on Pleasence's part regarding the role; he plays Calhoun with a vigor and relish that would imply he knows exactly what he wants to do with the character. I laughed out loud numerous times at his quips and especially his sarcasm, particularly when interrogating the male lead about the missing gentleman.

As far as the horror is concerned, there's some pretty gnarly gore - the film's called RAW MEAT after all, and there's copious amounts of rotted carcasses strewn about the cannibal's lair. It's suitably seedy, and there are a couple of slow, long pans that move from body to body, torn off hands and rotted skulls. There's also a perhaps unintentionally funny fight between three subway workers and the cannibal where we get to see a shovel cut through someone's skull and a broom handle shoved through a torso, complete with hanging bits of goo. Good stuff. The cannibal shows some signs of intelligence: when we first meet him he's trying to revive the only other cannibal, a pregnant woman too sick to move. When she dies, he files into a rage and kidnaps the male lead's girlfriend, who he hopes will take his dead love's place. Living under the subway however hasn't done much for his vocabulary; the only words he can utter is a sickly "Mind the doors" which gets creepier and creepier during the climax of the film.

Even if there were nothing else to recommend about the film, the crazy Donald pleasence performance makes RAW MEAT a must-see. But you also get a great Christopher Lee cameo and a guy who eats people. What more could you want?

In lieu of a closing picture, check out the full trailer below:

Trick 'r Treat (2008)

Being Film #2 in Hail Horror 4

Mike Dougherty gets it.

It's not that he gets Halloween (although after after watching TRICK 'R TREAT it's obvious he does), it's that he gets what it's like being a kid on Halloween, the balancing act between being cool in front of your friends and falling under the spell of the jack-o-lanterns, of ghosts and ghouls and the joy of being scared out of your wits. He gets the excuse older kids use Halloween for, where keggers in the woods and kisses in the dark invite their own pagan ritualistic comparisons. And he gets the sense of jealousy so many adults feel when they can only take part as a parent, or as a joke at the office party.

But the thing Mike Dougherty really gets, the things he innately understands, is how to make a horror film that's fun without being a comedy, how to evoke the feelings that the great, inventive horror films of the 80s gave us without resorting to hipster self-referencing that winks and tries to show you just how cool it is. TRICK 'R TREAT is that rare horror movie that's as smart as it is fun, and sincere in its love of the genre.

At its core TRICK 'R TREAT is a series of connected tales, taking place on a single night in the town of Warren Valley, OH, a small town whose denizens take the celebration of Halloween very seriously. The town comes alive with parades, parties, and the sounds of children going from house to house. Time moves back and forth between four distinct stories (including one that bookends the film), each blending into the other so that something seen on the periphery in one tale becomes prominent in another. In one, Dylan Baker plays a harried school principal, frustrated at the constant interruptions from his neighbor, his son, and a feisty dog as he goes about his night's work. What that work is, and how his story ends becomes part of another's tale: Anna Paquin as the shy little sister, going out with her friends to find a young man to spend the night partying with. The other stories, one about a group of kids using an old town ghost story to play a cruel prank on a sensitive girl, and a cranky old man's (Brian Cox) battle with a horrible little trick-or-treater and his own past are also intertwined, and it's a credit to Dougherty's sharp writing that all the twists and turns the stories take to interact with one another never feel forced or stand out as pretentious.

The lynchpin that holds everything together is Sam, a pint-sized demon in ragged clothes and a burlap sack sown into a cute jack-o-lantern face. He's the spirit of the holiday, appearing each each story, sometimes to observe, sometimes playing a more active role. He's an iconic mix of cute and eerie that embodies the fun/scary tone of the film, and Dougherty wisely doesn't go into any explanations concerning his origins or motives - it's enough that the audience connects him with all the things we think of when we picture Halloween.

The direction's equally impressive for a first-time director. Doughtery keeps everything moving at a brisk pace, showing a good eye for framing and a refusal to move the camera in ways that don't feel natural. You won't find any Sam Raimi "camera on a shopping cart" techniques here (speaking of Raimi, DRAG ME TO HELL, while being more overtly comic, is another great example of getting the tone right - maybe 2009 isn't as dismal as it seems) - the visuals are enough without drawing attention to how the camera got there.

There's a little bit of everything in TRICK 'R TREAT: ghosts, serial killers, vampires, werewolves, razor blades in candy and creepy old men, all done with an eye towards a good scare and a good laugh, with the scare coming first. It's a shame that TRICK 'R TREAT got screwed by Warner Premier's inability to see what they had in their hands: in a holiday season overrun with lackluster remakes of 70s slashers and brainless SAW sequels, TRICK 'R TREAT would have been a great theater experience. As it is I'll settle for putting every year with a loud group of friends.

The Curse of the Werewolf (1961)

Being Film #1 in Hail Horror 4. Thanks to Tony Dayoub of Cinema Viewfinder for the recommendation.


* Lesson learned: don't name your .jpg images the same or else the next time you try exporting a post from one blog to another, you'll wind up losing awesome pictures only to be replaced by incorrect ones.  Sorry!

Sumptuous colors, a lush orchestral score, passions both restrained and unhinged...THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF is horror filtered through a Douglas Sirk melodrama, a tortured psychological thriller that indulges in the vibrant red of spattered blood...in other words, the singular calling card of Hammer Films. But THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF stands out - both from its fellow Hammer productions as well as other werewolf films - by rooting its lycanthropy in religion and the base desires of human sexuality, playing up the madness and despair of its afflicted lead, and allowing the supporting cast to be more than terrified villagers.

The film is roughly divided into three sections, with the first 30 minutes dedicated to a wicked origin story that sets itself apart from the chaff. A beggar unwisely decides to ply his trade at the reception of the depraved Marques Siniestro, whose name playfully implies his twisted nature. He's thrown into the dungeons and left to rot away, his mind slipping through the years until it finally cracks with the arrival of the beautiful mute serving girl, imprisoned for rebuffing the now-ancient Marques' advances. The beggar rapes the poor girl and, having indulged in his carnal appetites, promptly dies. Upon being released with the admonition that she "apologize" the the Marques, she does so - with the pointed end of a torch holder:

It's one of only a handful of truly shocking moments, but its purpose, along with the rape and the wedding scene before it, is to set the stage for the many different conflicts the movie presents with regards to love and lust. In that vein THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF dives directly into waters only hinted at in other werewolf films (GINGER SNAPS comes to mind as a wonderful exception), exploring the concept of love holding the beast at bay while lust unleashes it. The mute woman runs away and is found and cared for by Lord Alfredo, a kind nobleman and his religious maid, Teresa.

The next couple of sequences play into the religious aspects of the curse, something new in my experience. Teresa begins to fear the baby will be born on Christmas Day, a bad omen and "an insult to Heaven" as she tells Lord Alfredo. Sure enough, a wolf's howl precedes the cry of the newborn, and the woman dies. Deciding to raise the child himself, Lord Alfredo prepares for the baby's baptism, and the discussion with the priest yields some interesting conjectures on the nature of curses. The priest's suspicion is that the horrible nature of Leon's conception allowed him to be possession by an evil spirit.

So already the story's taken an interesting couple of left turns, and the quality of the story is matched by the firm direction by Terence Fisher, who also directed some of the best early Hammer Films, including THE HORROR OF DRACULA and THE CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN, both featuring Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing in their most memorable roles. There's a great early sequence where young Leon is questioned by Lord Alfredo as to whether he remembers leaving the house (he's been mysteriously shot in the leg) and the boy recalls a frightening episode/dream where he was taken along hunting and, after refusing to kill a squirrel, later begins to suck its blood, recalling how sweet it tasted. Taking this as a warning, Lord Alfredo bars the boy's windows, and we get a sense of what's in store for Leon as he rails against his confinement at the next full moon:

Despite the goodwill fostered by the script and direction, things could still fall flat if Leon isn't adequately portrayed as an adult. No worries - in a very early role Oliver Reed is fantastic, barely able to be constrained by the screen. His journey to manhood: leaving home and going to work in a nearby town is mirrored by the journey his heart takes, falling in love with the daughter of his employer, yet succumbing to his base desires by traveling to a brothel with his friend. It's there, drunk and in the arms of a whore that the first transformation takes place, and blood is spilled. But again THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF refuses to conform: rather than piling on scene after scene of rampant killing and hunting, the movie looks at Leon's gradual realization of what he is becoming, and his family's attempts to cure him through their love. The night spent in the arms of Catherine, his true love, is enough to stop the transformations, and the climax of the film where Leon is jailed under suspicion of the murders is powerful, the look of fright on his face is striking as he implores the law to allow Catherine to stay.

Of course, the film has to end as it must, with a transformation, a chase through the streets, and a silver bullet through the heart. So rather than focus on the ending, I'll just say a few words about the actual werewolf effects. While the early effects feel a little shoddy (hair tape to the young Leon's arms and palms, a hand transformation that shows a pair of obviously wooden hands slowly growing either fur or moss), the final reveal of the creature is a tour de force, sold 100% by Reed's face. It reminds me of the early still of Benicio del Toro attacking Rick Baker back when the upcoming WOLF MAN was still going to be done practically (it has since been revamped and now appears to be mostly CGI based on the trailer). Del Toro's face is devoid of make-up; he sells the beast with his face alone, and Reed, although covered in make-up still manages to put his own features forward. It's a terrific look, and is reminiscent in feel if not in actual look to the Beast in Jean Cocteau's BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to the Hammer Films, and although I wouldn't go out of my way to describe THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF as particularly frightening, it's a damn solid piece of film making that should be seen to see a great example of how the werewolf genre doesn't have to be so rote. Here's hoping Universal's upcoming remake furthers the trend sadly left behind by other, lesser films.