Ooops. In all the election-posting, I forgot to post some of my Halloween-oriented posts, so here’s another one since Halloween has been extended one more weekend in my house.
Eminent Dracula historian, Professor Elizabeth Miller maintains Dracula’s Homepage, which contains more information on Stoker’s text than you may have ever thought possible.
The BBC recently ran a 5-part horror/comedy-type series about Zombies called “Dead Set.” The series has been well-received and also go lots of critical acclaim. I haven’t seen it, but I still enjoyed the piece Simon Pegg (Shaun of the Dead) penned for the Guardian regarding the fact that the “Dead Set” zombies can run:
More significantly, the fast zombie is bereft of poetic subtlety. As monsters from the id, zombies win out over vampires and werewolves when it comes to the title of Most Potent Metaphorical Monster. Where their pointy-toothed cousins are all about sex and bestial savagery, the zombie trumps all by personifying our deepest fear: death. Zombies are our destiny writ large. Slow and steady in their approach, weak, clumsy, often absurd, the zombie relentlessly closes in, unstoppable, intractable.
Reservoir Carl and a few others in the know recommended some quality Zombie films for my Halloween fest, and I’ve noted the titles for a Thanksgiving marathon.
I always forget to recommend the podcast MailOrderZombie to Carl, so I’ll do it now.
If you’ve neither watched nor read Rosemary’s Baby, that rare text that is relatively unchanged in adaptation, beware of spoilers.
I haven’t seen Rosemary’s Baby in ages so I decided to kickoff a Halloween marathon with it. This is a movie that seriously stands the test of time. It’s also the rare film that I can tolerate Mia Farrow in. The cinematography, the editing, and the camera angles brilliantly convey Rosemary’s downward spiral into fear, paranoia, and her ultimate break from reality. The casting of so many brilliant older character actors as the Satanists is probably what saves the movie from devolving into camp.
When I said I was going to rewatch this one, a friend scoffed at the character of the patronizing doctor who forbids Rosemary to read pregnancy books or talk to her friends and family, saying he made the movie dated and unrealistic. She hasn’t encountered some of the doctors I have over the past few years – many, like the doctor in the film, also considered the best doctors in town and thus infallible.
But I digress. Let’s get back to those Satanists. Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer are pitch perfect as Minnie and Roman Castevet, the annoying nosey geriatric couple who make keeping tabs on their young neighbors into an Olympic sport. Unbeknownst to Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse, the young couple who move into the apartment next to the Castevet’s, when they aren’t being busybodies, they’re worshipping Satan. Quicker than you can say, “deal with the devil,” struggling actor guy sells out Rosemary in exchange for a successful acting career. Rosemary senses something is wrong with her pregnancy, her neighbors, and her husband. Terrific point-of-view shots through keyholes and peepholes and reflected images, such as the glimpse of herself Rosemary catches on the side of her toaster give the viewer the same slightly distorted perspective Rosemary seems to be experiencing thanks to the daily “vitamin drinks” supplied to her by Minnie Castevets.
This is a fine film which was nominated for many awards, features a stellar cast, looks terrific, and has stood the test of time. Consequently, it’s being remade by Michael Bay. This is such an idiotic idea that we can only assume the Devil is making him do it.
TNT apparently ran a [tag]John Carpenter[/tag] marathon over the weekend and “Prince of Darkness” caught my eye because it seemed vaguely familiar (in a non-Robert Novak sort of way).
Donald Pleasance, Jameson Parker (1987) “A priest summons a professor to an old church to see a cannister of liquid satan.”
Last time Tivo “suggested” this movie to us, the Bunny and I couldn’t stop saying “[tag]liquid satan[/tag]” for a long time.
Far longer than the joke stayed funny, probably.
Liquid satan.
No, actually, it’s still funny.
Burnt Offerings was really scary on cable in the 1970s. Last night on DVD, not so much. Unless you count Burgess Meredith’s scenery chewing turn as the brother in the brother-sister pair of haunted house owning maniacs. Or Bette Davis flailing about, chewing the scenery and, no doubt, cursing her agent under her breath.
It does have scream queen Karen Black, scenes of Oliver Reed shirtless and gardening with reckless abandon, and creepy iconic funeral flashback scenes featuring character actor icon Anthony James. But it’s also got a lot of bad writing, overwrought scoring, and blurry cinematography. And, not unlike Jack Nicholson in Kubrick’s verson of the Shining, which bears some similiarities, Karen Black’s character seems batshit insane right out of the gate. Thus, the “slow” descent into madness? Not so slow. The movie, on the other hand, very slow.