From Zombos' Closet

Tap Dancing to Hell and a Pot o'Gold Part 3 The Ghosts You Know The Haunting (1963)

Tap Dancing to Hell and a Pot o'Gold Part 3 (Part 2)

Zombos Says: Classic

"Do you see him?" asked Curly Joe.

"No." I shone my flashlight down the long tunnel. "This is just great."

The tunnel we were standing in was long, narrow, and filled with doors; ominous, gray, metal-clad doors that practically screamed "Stay Out!" They were the types of doors you see in movies like Hostel. I hate doors like that.

"What's this?" he asked.

“‘Help Zombos Go Home,’” I read out loud, in the dim light of my flashlight. The large letters were written in script across the brick wall, with a kid’s pink chalk stick by the look of it.

"Who the hell’l want ta write in pink chalk down here?”

"No, not chalk," I said, touching it with my fingertip and tasting it. "Like chalk, I'd say."

"I should’a listened ta the other plumbers ‘bout this place. Now I’m playin’ in Zork-land." He sat on his rump and put his head in his hands. "Ya realize yer gonna get one hell of a bill, don't ya?"

Zombos pays the bills so I ignored him. "You know, this writing reminds me of that scary Shirley Jackson ghost story directed by Robert Wise, The Haunting."

Curly Joe perked up. "Say, I remember dat movie; pretty scary, even though ya never see any ghosts."

Perhaps this is the best way to describe The Haunting: a frightening ghost story because it doesn't show any ghosts. Unlike today’s vivid use of Japanese Onryô apparitions—in need of a shampoo and cut—vindictively mauling everyone onscreen, Wise only suggests ghosts, creating one of the scariest movies by sound and implication.

Taken from Jackson’s novel, The Haunting of Hill House, Nelson Gidding’s psychological screenplay uses her ambiguous supernatural inferences occurring within the house and leaves out those happening outside (such as the unsettling phantom picnic); keeping the tension-building squarely in the house as Dr. Markway's (Richard Johnson) skittish paranormal investigators experience the teasingly malevolent manifestations of Hill House’s former tenants.

In the foreboding opening montage, Dr. Markway relates the sordid history of Hill House, from the tragic death of Hugh Crain's first wife before she actually sees the morose mansion, to the mysterious death of his second wife down a long flight of, and finally the suicide of Abigail’s nurse-companion. Abigail was Hugh Crain’s repressed daughter. The companion, who inherited the estate because there was no one else to give it to after Abigail died a lonely death, hung herself from the wrought-iron spiral staircase in the sunless library; perhaps because she was never really left alone in the sprawling, gloomy house.

Clearly, Hill House has issues, and that's what draws the attention of Dr. Markway: he's looking for "the key to another world," and believes Hill House will provide it. And boy does it do so with relish. As he assembles his team from the dwindling group of people that still dare to enter Hill House after they learn about its unsavory past, he chooses Eleanor (Julie Harris), a fragile woman with no life of her own. She's a walking, living, ghost herself, and after spending the last eleven years taking care of her invalid mother, has nothing to call her own: not a relationship, not a career, not a hobby, not even her own place to live. She sees Dr. Markway's invitation as her great escape, her final chance to spread her wings and breathe freedom. This makes her dangerously vulnerable to the influences of Hill House. And Abigail, whose declining years were spent isolated, with only her companion to provide company.

Another member of Dr. Markway's team is Theo, a psychic sponge who knows everyone intimately on first meeting. She’s hip, she’s smart, and she takes a fancy to Eleanor, but Eleanor's fancy is tickled more by Dr. Markway, which leads to earthly tension in a house where Hugh Crane derided earthly pleasures. Just look at the ugly bible illustrations of damnation for the wicked he foisted on poor little Abigail: it’s the proverbial bible for horror movie victimology 101: enjoy thyself and die, oh wicked one!

Luke (Russ Tamblyn) is the skeptic. Not part of Dr. Markway’s team, he's there because he's inheriting the house and wants to look after his future interests. He doesn't believe in spirits unless they’re bottled. Tamblyn’s Luke is armed with quick-with-a-quip resolve. He jokes to dispel the awkward feeling the unknown gives him when explanations are needy.

Julie Harris, Wise's choice for the role of Eleanor, or Nell as Theo calls her, is the character everyone and everything in the house becomes enamored with. Her clumsy shyness hides her need to desperately belong somewhere, anywhere, even if it is here; and Claire Bloom's alluring but predatory "nature's mistake" Theo resents the house's need for Nell as much as she resents her own need for Nell. Both women alternately bond, break apart, and bond again, trading biting insults as their relationship becomes as difficult to navigate as the house’s hallways.

The outside shots of Hill House—in actuality the Ettington Park Hotel in England—are made even more ominously brooding by Wise's shrewd use of infra-red movie to sharpen and darken the arched, neo-gothic windows and towering brick facade to the point of austerity. His technique of darkening the mansion under angry clouds, when a supernatural event is about to happen, cues the chills for us even more. Choosing the naturally more gritty and spooky quality of black and white movie stock over color also intensifies the brooding interplay of stark shadows and lightness in the interiors of the mansion, emphasizing the not-quite-right nature of the house that Hugh Crain built, where doors shut themselves, walls meet at odd angles, and "nothing seems to move until you look away."

Looking for ways to enhance the foreboding atmosphere of his movie, Wise jumped at the chance to use a newly available prototype 35mm lens that presented a slight distortion for his Panavision landscape, increasing the unnaturalness of the mansion's rooms and exteriors in a subtle way. He had to sign a waiver releasing the manufacturer from any liability before he could acquire it (Bryan Senn, Cinematic Hauntings).

Wise's unique visual styling of the movie aside, it's his minimalist depiction of terrifying events assailing Nell and Theo that turn The Haunting into a classic, adult tale of suspenseful frights. The violent nighttime encounter with something conspicuously making its way through the halls to find them in their bedroom, the intense pounding on the door, the scuffling, and the heart-stopping turning doorknob as it seeks to get in is a nerve-tingling blend of spiraling camera work, fearful reactions as Nell and Theo look to each other for support, and loud, disorientating banging following by silence. This impression of what may be trying to get in generates genuine scares. I dare you to watch this late at night and alone.

Wise builds friction between the investigators as Nell begins to lose herself to the intoxicating and liberating influence of Hill House, between alternating bouts of willingness and reluctance. As a kindred spirit—albeit a living one—to Abigail's companion, it is never made clear who or what exactly is enamored with Nell aside from Theo. Is it Abigail, seeking a companion again, or is it the companion, trapped alone, seeking release from a vengeful Abigail?

‘Help Eleanor Come Home,’ found written in large letters with "something like chalk," is seen on a hallway wall. Dr. Markway now realizes what we already know: how vulnerable Nell really is to this key to another world. One side of him wants Eleanor to leave for her own safety, but the other realizes she is the lightning rod, the attractor for the haunting. Or is he becoming more amenable to Nell’s obvious infatuation with him, or maybe he’s concerned she has no other place to go?

When Dr. Markway's wife (Lois Maxwell), another skeptic, unexpectedly visits, pleading with him to end his ridiculous ghost-hunting nonsense, Nell, in a fit of jealous pique, mentions the nursery when Mrs. Markway asks for the scariest room to sleep in. Although Nell realizes the seriousness of what she said—the nursery is the evil heart of Hill House—Mrs. Markway insists on staying in the room. Although Mrs. Markway refuses to stay with the others, Dr. Markway insists everyone else spend the night together for safety, while he and Luke take turns watching the nursery for any sign of trouble. When Luke sneaks into the parlor for a quick, fortifying drink, the door slams shut with a loud bang, waking the others. Once again, a door becomes the only separation between the living and the unknown, and Luke comes to an abrupt realization that he'll have a lot of trouble trying to sell Hill House. Wise ups the ante for terror here with a simple, non-CGI, effect that will send chills down your spine.

When whatever is doing the pounding heads upstairs to the nursery, Luke, now a card-carrying believer in the supernatural, fights Dr. Markway to keep the door closed, and Nell, visibly and metaphorically, retreats into the bowels of Hill House. Like Abigail's companion, she heads to the library where, at the top of the rickety spiral staircase, she contemplates a similar fate.

Will Hill House have what it wants? Will Eleanor? What happens to Mrs. Markway? Will she live long enough to become a believer in the supernatural, too?

The Haunting must be watched at night with the lights off, or in a darkened theater, well into the evening. It is a sophisticated, well-crafted foray into the ghostly realm, and one that will leave you exhilarated and scared and happy such horror movies still may be found.

Do not confuse this movie with its befuddled remake.

This one’s the real scary deal.

 

Part 4

Tap Dancing to Hell and a Pot o'Gold Part 2 Black Sunday (1960)

Part 1 

Zombos Says: Classic

"Well this is just swell," I said. "Now we've lost Chef Machiavelli."

"He cannot have gone too far ahead." Zombos shone his flashlight down the tunnel on the left.

We were standing in the second large chamber of the perpendicular brick Gothic-arched basement that ran like a rabbit's warren beneath the mansion and toward the beach. Expanded by the original owner of the mansion before he went insane, the basement was a mosaic of tunnels and vaulted rooms running from and connecting to three large circular chambers with vaulted ceilings. Before the expansion, boot-leggers used the tunnels to run hootch during Prohibition, and before them, pirates used the beach tunnels to hide their rum and booty. The plumber was not in the boiler room, but the good thing was we now had heat. He must have gotten lost heading back upstairs.

"Well then, let us go this way," said Zombos. "Take a note: we really need to replace these burned-out light bulbs." He pointed to the many dark spots in the string of lights strung along the walls of the basement. There were a lot of dark spots because no one liked coming down here, especially me, to replace them.

A few yards into the tunnel he tripped over something sticking out of the dirt floor. He swung the light over as he picked himself up. It was an arm. In the clenched fist were daisies. We looked down and saw a large patch of bright yellow daisies growing all around the elbow.

"Good lord! Pull man, pull!" We grabbed hold of the arm and pulled as hard as we could. Together we unburied the plumber.

"What the hell! I'll murderlize da bum," spat the plumber, along with some daisies. He pulled himself out of the dirt the rest of the way, spitting daisies from his mouth and brushing dirt off his clothes.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I got tha boiler workin'," said Curly Joe. "Then I'm packin' up and I hear dis voice comin’ from one of the tunnels. Nice, sexy voice, you know, just like Barbara Steele sounds like. I go lookin' and the next thing I know a little guy is cursin' me and I'm cursin' him back. Last thing I remember is I'm tellin' him he's goin' ta be pushin' up daisies if he keeps yellin' at me and bam, I'm spittin' up daisies and dirt."

"This isn't good," I said. "It sounds like—"

"Did you say Barbara Steele?" interrupted Zombos.

"Yeah, ya know that sultry knockout horror dame. I know they often dubbed her voice in those eye-talian movies, but that voice made me think of her. Just watched Black Sunday last night, too."

"Now's not the time to discuss—"

"Oh, right, The Mask of Satan, also known as Black Sunday. I say, a capital Italian Gothic horror movie," said Zombos. "In fact, we were just discussing Barbara Steele in Castle of Blood before we found you. Good thing we did—find you, that is."

"Speaking of Mario Bava's evil witchcraft-laced Black Sunday," continued Zombos, "I am simply amazed at his use of rolling camera work and cobwebbed framing to create a modestly budgeted masterpiece of the supernatural. It is the quintessential Italian Gothic. The movie is a licorice and vanilla confection, filled with sugary, gamboling fog, bitter, dark chocolate forests stuffed with dead trees whose crunchy branches clutch at unwary travelers, and landscapes overflowing with the cream of foreboding."

I looked at Zombos. Curly Joe looked at Zombos. I leaned against the slimy brick wall and tried to make myself as comfortable as possible: we were going to be there for a while.

 

Whenever you have a large muscular, sweaty guy heating up a branding iron in a brazier, other hooded guys holding smoking torches, and no marshmallows or guitars in sight, you know something evil is afoot. Princess Asa (Barbara Steele) has been a naughty witch and vampire, and her relatives have called this little crisis-intervention to hammer some sense into that beautiful, but evil head of hers. She'd rather they didn't do the hammering with that wicked, multi-spike bronze mask, of course, but family never listens, right? That chilling close-up of the inside of the mask, with all those long, sharp spikes, doesn't thrill her, either.

As the big muscular guy walks over with a hammer that would put Mjolnir to shame, the mask is held over her terrified face. Her accomplice, Javutich (the naturally creepy-looking Arturo Dominici is back again), already had his facial so he's enjoying the snooze of the damned. She, understandably, curses everybody in sight before the mask is pounded down with verve, sending blood sprays out around its edges. For the 1960s this was strong stuff, even after clipping some minutes for the American market.

Two-hundred years later, her curse is about to descend on her descendants as two travelers— the usual academic men-of-science who are also quite clumsy—stumble on her tomb and unwittingly release her vengeful spirit.

Where would horror movies be without them?

Making their way through the dark, mist-shrouded forest, a wheel pops off the coach. To kill time while the coachman attends to the ‘flat,’ they explore the surrounding woods and come across the ruins of an old church and cemetery. Dr. Gorobec (John Richardson) and Dr. Kruvajan (Andrea Checchi) find Asa's tomb and dutifully remove all the protections that have locked her undying spirit in her crypt for two centuries in their examination of it. The scenes of the church ruins, the cemetery, and the crypt are scened like illustrations in a child's sinister fairy tale. They are surprisingly ‘literary,’ effectively dismal, and eerie as the rim of the somber sky merges into the bleak forest. When the two doctors enter the crypt, the camera swings three-sixty to highlight the decay, cobwebs, and charnel artifacts of her abandoned resting place, bringing out every decrepit nook and cranny to perfection before returning to them.

Before leaving, Dr. Kruvajan makes sure to cut his hand and bleed over the princess' exposed corpse, releasing drops of blood that will start her revivification. Mario Bava's practical use of special effect lighting makes the transformation of the putrid corpse to voluptuous witch-woman—even with those large holes in her face—a morbid delight to watch. Egg yolks, rice, and lighting filters to highlight different colored makeup layers on her face create an inexpensive but highly effective transformation. A similar process was used on Frederick March in Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde for his startling change into the amoral Hyde using color makeups, undetectable in a black and white movie.

The beautiful Katia (Barbara Steele in a dual role) greets the two doctors as they exit the tomb. Bearing a striking resemblance to her ancestor, Asa, she will become the target for the evil witch's rebirth. Cue the romantic music first, however, as Dr. Gorobec immediately takes a fancy to her. In no time at all, the evil Asa revives her cohort, Vivutich, and begins her plan of revenge.

Her first order of business is to frighten the life out of the current prince, Katia's father, who holds title to the family castle, then lure Dr. Kruvajan to her and wring the rest of his blood from him. With them under her control she will possess the body of Katia. While she's still reviving in her tomb she sends Vivutich to do her dirty work.

The attack on the prince (Ivo Garanni), Katia’s father, begins with the large fireplace opening to reveal a secret passageway to Princess Asa's tomb. The spectral presence of Vivutich charges forth, knocking down the suits of armor lining the hallway as he invisibly makes his way up to the bedroom where the cowering prince waits in dread for the evil by night. The prince wards off the attack with a crucifix, but he's driven nearly insane by the encounter.

Next, in dreamlike slow-motion, Vivutich races through the mist-choked forest in a black rococo-styled coach to bring Dr. Kruvajan to Asa. The good doctor falls into the trap, and after a bumpy coach ride, he is led, unknowingly, through the castle and the secret passageway, back into the tomb where it all started. This sequence, with Vivutich leading the way holding a lantern, from beginning to end, encapsulates the gloominess of Gothic horror with its stark black and white imagery depicting the eldritch tableau, with Dr. Kruvajan running to catch up only to find the lantern no longer held by Vivutich, but hovering in mid-air as the door to Asa's tomb slowly opens. Kruvajan never knew what hit him.

Princess Asa executes her final plan of conquest. The castle is overrun with evil as servants are killed and Dr. Gorobec and Katia's brother square off against Vivutich in a final confrontation involving a big nasty hole in the floor. Meanwhile, Katia is lured to and trapped in the witch's tomb, while angry villagers, in grand Universal Studios horror tradition, light the torches and storm the castle to confront the evil in their midst.

 

"I say, what is that?" asked Zombos.

"What?" I said.

"There, at your feet." Zombos pointed. A little opening had appeared where I was leaning against the wall. My shoulder must have pressed some hidden mechanism.

He shone his flashlight into the opening. I reached in and pulled out a wooden box. I opened it.

"How odd. They are tap dancing shoes," said Zombos, holding up the pair of shiny black shoes. "They look like my size. I do not know why, but I simply must try them on."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Didn't you see Red Shoes?" He didn't listen.

"Incredible. They are absolutely comfortable. I almost feel like I could tap dance forever in them. I have always wanted to tap dance, you know, ever since I was a little boy. Father would have none of it."

His right foot started first, then his left, and pretty soon he was doing a paddle and roll.

"I thought you said you didn't know how to tap dance?"

"I do not!" Zombos was now doing the shim sham shimmy.

"You better take those off."

"I cannot! I cannot stop myself!"

I motioned to Curly Joe to grab him around the arms while I reached for his shoes, but Zombos was already shuffling down the tunnel to the Susquehanna three-step before I could untie them.

"Zoc, Zoc, stop these crazy things!" he cried as he disappeared into the distance.

Curly Joe and I looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and raced after him.

Part 3

Tap Dancing to Hell and a Pot o'Gold Part 1 The Living and the Dead Castle of Blood (1964)

Zombos Says: Very Good

"More hot chocolate please," I said to Chef Machiavelli.

He put down the large and very sharp looking knife he was using to fillet the eel for his incredible eel livornese and refilled my cup. His hot chocolate is exquisite; filled with little lumps of white vanilla, a little anisette, and lots of dark, sweet chocolate. It's the perfect warmer-upper. I was sitting in the kitchen waiting for the plumber to find the problem with our recalcitrant boiler. He was sure taking his time.

"I will take a cup, too," said Zombos joining us to bask in the warmth coming from the brick oven. "I wonder what's taking the plumber so long."

"You did give him the map?" I asked.

"Yes, of course. I do not want to lose another plumber down there. They are skittish as it is. Lucky for us this fellow is new." He sipped his hot chocolate.

It was so hard trying to get plumbers to come out to the mansion; even harder keeping them once they saw our basement. The labyrinthine passages and rooms below us would give even Erik, the poor suffering Phantom of the Paris Opera, a run for his money.

While we waited, I looked at the long, gleaming knife Chef Machiavelli was using. I found it fascinating that a sharp implement can slice through atoms and molecules, severing their tenuous connections so easily—and the whole concept of self-sharpening was beyond me.

"How is the time doing?" asked Zombos.

We looked at our watches.

"Merda!" cursed Chef Machiavelli. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his eel-skin wallet. He handed Zombos five dollars.

"I'm still good," I said as Zombos tucked the fiver into his shirt pocket with a grin.

"We will see about that," he said.

We had placed bets on when the plumber would be done and Chef Machiavelli's chosen time had passed. I was still on target, though. I crossed my fingers. I really hate losing a bet to Zombos: he was rich enough.

"This wagering reminds me of that horror movie, Castle of Blood, where the journalist bets he can stay in a haunted castle for the night," I said.

"I remember that movie." Zombos sipped his hot chocolate. "Barbara Steele is in it."

"Yes, and gamboling fog as the journalist enters the Poor Devil Inn—how apropos," I continued. "When he comes upon the table where Edgar Allan Poe (Silvano Tranquilli) and the owner of the haunted castle are discussing the reality of the supernatural, he can't help but listen and take the wager of staying overnight in that place where no one has survived the stay. Soon they're off to the castle and the journalist's misadventure with the undead begins."

 

Early Italian supernatural horror movies are often atmospheric and filled with dread, from the music to the melodramatic storyline, and Antonio Margheritti directs Castle of Blood with classic Gothic imagery in vivid black and white to increase the menace.

Arriving at the castle, the stalwart journalist Alan Foster (Georges Riviére), a man of reason and science, is about to have his wits reshuffled. Bad enough he has to spend a night in a decaying castle on All Soul's Eve, but after pushing his way through the tall wrought iron gate, he has to walk through an overgrown and fog-filled cemetery to make his way to the castle entrance.

What the hell is that black cat doing jumping in between the tombstones?

Playful black cats in cemeteries in the dead of night are always unsettling. The movie hasn't kicked quite into gear yet and already my pants would be flying through the air and out the gate--with me in them.

Foster continues onward and pokes around in the empty horse stable for a few minutes. Riz Ortolani's music rises and falls in strident tones from somber, foreboding strings as Foster methodically makes his way through the cemetery, the stable, and eventually into the castle. In this opening sequence, the Gothic images of death, bad luck, and wind-tossed barren tree branches merge into a dark, spook show chiaroscuro.

Ignoring all these dire portents, he finds a taper, lights it, and boldly proceeds up the front steps into the dark recesses of the castle. Doffing his cape and lighting candles, he begins to explore. The absence of music as he walks through the rooms allows his footsteps to be heard, accentuating his aloneness.

Suddenly the grandmother clock—its pendulum unmoving—chimes the half-hour before midnight. He goes to investigate and is puzzled to find no movement or ticking sound from the clock. The sounds of a party coming from the other room draw his attention, but he finds only an empty room with a dust-covered clavichord. He lights more candles. Yeah, I'd light more candles, too, at this point.

He tickles the keys on the clavichord. Why does everyone in a haunted house or spooky castle movie always insist on playing the cobwebbed piano or organ, or clavichord in this case, after some phantom melody plays? Elizabeth’s (Barbara Steele) hand on his shoulder startles him. Here begins the true art of the Italian ghost story movie: the soap-opera relationships and bawdy entanglements leading to sinister and tragic events.

She tells him about her brother, the man he wagered with, and why her brother does it—to make sure she has a companion for one night out of the year. She, apparently, is "looking for happiness with the man I love." Foster falls for her seductive charms hook, line, and sinker, then Julia (Margarete Robsahm) shows up. The women start fighting over him, so he retires to a bedroom, wondering at his newfound popularity with dead women.

Of course, he doesn't know they're dead until Elizabeth sneaks into his room and they start kissing passionately while Julia steams outside, listening to their ardor. When Foster can't find a heartbeat, Elizabeth let's him in on the secret: she's dead and has been for ten years. Before it all registers, Herbert, the strapping beefcake stable boy barges in and stabs Elizabeth to death. Foster whips out his pistol (shame on you for thinking that!) and shoots Herbert dead. The stiff upper lip of the journalist finally starts to tremble as he blinks and finds himself alone again, with no bodies sprawled on the bedroom floor. Frantically searching for Elizabeth he runs into Doctor Carmus (Arturo Dominici).

Carmus tells Foster about death and dying and the restless spirits of the castle: Elizabeth, Julia and Herbert. We and Foster see events replay themselves, revealing the macabre dance of death that has doomed the castle's over-heated ghosts to walk its empty hallways for one night every year.

Now take a deep breath. Ready? Here we go.

Herbert and Elizabeth had a love affair going on while Elizabeth's husband was away. When he returned, she told Herbert they couldn’t see each other anymore. He gets mad and tries to murder Elizabeth and her husband while they're making love. Julia barges in and murders him before he can kill Elizabeth. With two male bodies on the floor, Julia puts the moves on Elizabeth, prompting Elizabeth, who’s also been doing a little dallying with Julia, to end that relationship abruptly. Three bodies are now sprawled on the floor, but there’s still one more to go.

Doctor Carmus tells Foster he must escape before the sun rises, otherwise the dead in the castle will feast on his "fountain" of blood so they can spend another night viva la dead loco. Elizabeth, who started this whole mess, wants to help him escape. She rushes to Foster's side as the others try to trap him in Herbert's crypt, with the deadly ghosts appearing from mist entering through the gap between the locked crypt door and the floor. Will Foster escape? I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you.

 

"I say," said Zombos, "it is getting rather late. We better go find that plumber and make sure he has not gotten himself lost."

We grabbed flashlights from the cupboard. The basement lighting was terrible in some spots. Chef Machiavelli grabbed his biggest, sharpest knife.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"Molti ratti," he replied, swinging the knife up and down.

Zombos looked at me. We looked at Chef Machiavelli.

"You go first," we said together.

Part 2 

Movie Review: The Abandoned (2006) Ghostly Evil In a Haunted Forest

Zombos Says: Good

Russian horror movies are a lot like those matryoshka wooden nesting dolls: the horror is nested deep within cultural metaphors that quickly open up, again and again, to reveal an allegory at its heart. I'm not very good with allegory. Looking over my notes for the The Abandoned I have 'Why?' jotted down a few times. That's not to say these are bad in this case. It just means I'm not good with allegory—or metaphors for that matter.

Even if you're not good with metaphor and allegory either, director Nacho Cerda and writer Karim Hussain unfold an intricate and unrelenting story that looks like a ghost story until it opens to reveal something else. Inside this ghost story is another story about a wicked house deep in a dark, evil forest surrounded by water—looks like a metaphor to me. Inside the evil house are creepy, white-eyed ghosts—heavy on the metaphors, maybe toss in a little allegory here also. There is also a locked door in the flooded basement. Something waits behind it to be freed at the stroke of midnight on her birthday. But what is it and why?

"It is not a Russian horror movie," said Zombos, derailing the caboose in my train of thought.

"What?"

"Director and co-writer, Nacho Cerda, that's not a Russian name. Cerda is a Spanish director. Did that controversial movie, Aftermath, back in 94." Zombos flipped to the next page in his magazine and crossed his legs.

"But it was shown in—"

"In Bulgaria, not Russia." He turned another page.

"Even so," I thought out loud, "there are Russian actors, art directors, production and second unit directors involved. And Spanish horror often is filled with metaphors and allegory. Just look at Del Toro's The Devil's Backbone, or even Pan's Labyrinth. I think my use of the matryoska dolls simile is still valid."

Zombos looked up at me. "And those insufferable Higglytown Heroes are matryoska dolls, too. Why not use them, then?" He crossed his legs in reverse and flipped another page.

I was beginning to hate multi-nationally produced horror movies.

As I pondered where I was going with all this, I watched the rain spatter across the library's windows. My mind filled with images of Twinkle and Eubie being chased by ghosts in a dark and decrepit Higglytown Town Hall. Perhaps I should tackle this review using a different perspective?

That's it! Perspective!

From the perspective of Marie (Anastasia Hille), who travels to her family home after forty years of not knowing anything about it or her biological parents, this soon becomes a journey of frightening discoveries. The opening scenes, filled with rolling camera views, close-ups of frightened faces, and beautiful, but ominous storm-filled landscapes, show the bloody tragedy leading to her adoption.

Now she returns to Russia, reluctantly looking for answers about her past, and not fully sure why she's bothering to find out. She heads to the countryside and hires transportation to take her to her family's home, deep in the woods. The only way to get to it is over a bridge as it's completely surrounded by water.

More metaphor, perhaps?

If that weren't foreboding enough, the superstitious country-folk also think the land is cursed. One blind old woman tries to keep her from going, tugging on her arm and pleading with her in Russian. I thought back to how Renfield ignored the same warning in Dracula and headed to his doom.

Anatoliy (Carlos Reig-Plaza), the truck driver taking her deep into the woods to "the island" where her parent's home quietly decays, is gruffly laconic and full of foreboding stares and glares. Driving for hours, he stops the truck in the dead of night, in the middle of nowhere, and leaves her alone as he disappears into the forest, mumbling something about going on ahead. Yes. Alone in that forest; the cursed one filled with eerie sounds and odd shadows darting in and out of her sight range. Of course Marie jumps out of the truck to go find the errant truck driver, in the dead of night in the middle of nowhere IN THAT SPOOKY FOREST and right after the truck radio DIES OUT; but not before playing something that sounds awfully like the words 'Satan will eat you alive' played backwards in a kind of freaky static choking way, ending in silence.

Using the flashlight she rummaged from the truck, she makes her way to the house. Once inside, the sounds of a child crying and odd rustling, beautifully enhanced by music, lead her upstairs. Someone keeps walking around, just out of her sight. She finds a zombie-like, blanched-eye doppelganger, dripping wet, who attacks her.

But why?

Water and fish metaphors abound as she's knocked senseless and wakes up to find another person, her brother, in the house.

As siblings are prone to do, she knocks him senseless, but when he comes to, they explore the house together, especially the locked door in the basement from which her brother, Nicolai (Karel Roden), heard moaning. Both realize they've been lured back to the family homestead by an evil presence. Why? Who or what is behind all this? And why does the house seem to be alive?

The Abandoned is a perplexing and demanding horror movie. The cinematography, acting, makeup, and special effects combine to create a surprising experience from a modestly budgeted movie. While the story lags a bit in the middle, as brother and sister explore their situation, the denouement is chilling. Like those nested wooden dolls, it looks like a horror movie on the outside, but when you start to open it up you will find a ghost story within a haunted house story within an evil in the forest primeval story. And even then, much remains unanswered, leaving you wondering why and perhaps a little scared, too.

Movie Review: Ghost of Mae Nak (2005)

Zombos Says: Very Good

In this Thai horror film, writer and director Mark Duffield updates the legend of Mae Nak, which many Thai people reverentially believe in, adds J-Horror makeup and shock-cuts, and ups the ante with a few well-choreographed gore stunts. The gore stunts rely less on bloody chunks and more on creative lighting, timing, and framing to deliver chilling tableaus of vengeance wrought by the ghost of Mae Nak when anyone gets in her way.

Along the way, Duffield maneuvers through the Thai cultural nuances of family and society to keep the story interesting for Western audiences not accustomed to seeing young people turn to elderly family members and Buddhist monks for help and guidance. In Western horror movies, it's usually your family and the authorities who either ignore your pleas for help, or try to kill you; so it's refreshing to see grandmothers who believe in ghosts and take you to blind seers for help. Duffield also tones down the exaggerated acting style common in Thai films, which lends more seriousness to the story.

Nak and Mak are soon-to-be newlyweds. Not only do they need to find a place to live fairly quickly, they also must cope with the usual pressures of work and doting families while preparing for their wedding in present day Bangkok. Mak is also coping with prescient nightmares regarding one disgruntled ghost with long black hair and a hole in her head big enough you could drive a bus through.

When they find a fixer-upper old house in the Phra Khonang section, the unscrupulous and very superstitious real estate agent pressures Mak (Siwat Chotchaicharin) into signing the contract without reading the fine print. Two thieves have also staked out the house, patiently waiting for Nak (Pataratida Pacharawirapong) and Mak to move in with their wedding presents. The house also contains one previous tenant not mentioned in the lease--possibly the original owner--late of this world, but still looking to fill the void left by the loss of her husband and child. Mae Nak, the ghostly tenant, takes a fancy to Mak and haunts his dreaming and waking moments.

On the plus side, Mae Nak goes after anyone who tries to hurt Mak. So when the real-estate agent tries to execute the fine print clause that would force Nak and Mak out of their new home, the ghost follows him. The poor fellow winds up losing more than he bargained for. Now let's see, what about those thieves? Sadly, they also experience a crushing reversal of fortune, but not before they put Mak in the hospital with a coma.

Then there's the shady attendant to the astrologer Nak goes to for advice. My, my, my, so many unscrupulous people around, what's a vengeful ghost to do? In the film's best horrific scene, the attendant becomes a decorative window. It's a one-two-three stunt that ends with a doggy treat; a nice example of timing and coordination.

But Mak is still in a coma, and Nak is hampered in her attempts to help him by Mae Nak, who apparently wants Mak for herself, which means he has to die. Buddhist monks are called in, and in two lively scenes involving levitation, Mae Nak puts up quite a fight. Nak must fight against time as the monks prepare to release Mak's possessed body by performing trepanation--a similar surgery done on Mae Nak to appease her restless spirit.

Duffield uses ambiguity here, as the legend of Mae Nak is ambiguous to begin with. On the one hand, Thai people revere her for the endless love story surrounding her, but then threaten misbehaving children with the mention of her name on the other. Unrequited love or not, she does have a reputation for a nasty temper. This ambiguous nature of Mae Nak extends to her actions in the film. While she does dispatch anyone threatening Nak and Mak, she has a choke-hold on Mak and keeps Nak from stopping her. So what's it to be? Freedom from ghostdom or recapturing a lost love through Mak? It's a difficult decision for Mae Nak, which Duffield reflects in the conflicting actions she takes while both helping Nak to free her earth-bound spirit, but stifling Nak's actions to save Mak.

Another interesting ambiguity running through the film is how modern Bangkok is filled with very old traditions. Buddhist monks treating patients in hospitials is a form of alternative medicine rarely seen in the West. Duffield's audio commentary on the DVD is filled with observations about these traditions, along with his rationale for choosing scenes and their setups--including why you never really see Nak ever kiss Mak in the film. The extras also include the director's video diary and the theatrical trailer.

The ending is a sequelization-antic (my term for the type of ending commonly used in horror films to set up the franchise for sequels) that actually works and sets up the premise for more Mae--don't get in my way or else--Nak films. But before the ending, there is an unexpected twist you may or may not see coming.

Director, writer and cinematographer Mark Duffield and a talented cast of actors and crew deliver an effective and modern ghost story based on an old tale of love found, love lost, and love sought, and adds a few dashes of visual horror to spice it up.

Interview: Ghost of Mae Nak's Mark Duffield

In your article in Asian Cult Cinema (No. 51), you mention the challenge of directing the film in the Thai language. What were the other cultural challenges you faced--as a Western writer and director--in making The Ghost of Mae Nak , a Thai language horror film?

Making Ghost of Mae Nak in Thailand as a Thai language horror film did bring about many challenges. The day before filming, the entire Ghost of Mae Nak cast and crew went to the Mae Nak shrine in Bangkok to give an offering and asked Mae Nak for permission to make a film about her. This is an actual shrine to Mae Nak where many Thai people ask for guidance and blessing. I felt she gave us her blessing as the filming went very smooth and it was a joy to direct.

Some members of the crew were superstitious about Mae Nak and would wear Buddhist amulets to protect themselves from her spirit. And the actress named ‘Cartoon' Pornthip Papanai who played the Ghost Of Mae Nak-- and the period Mae Nak-- would pray to her on set to ask her for permission and blessing before we shot the scene.

Communicating with cast and crew was difficult at first, but filmmaking is a slow process and we eventually learned to find ways of understanding. Of course I had translators, and there was the script, which was written in English and translated perfectly into Thai to work from. As a director I had to be precise about what I wanted and always double-checked the information was clearly conveyed. A film director is highly regarded in Thailand which also means it becomes a responsible role.

What is it about the legend of Mae Nak that inspired you to write and direct a movie about her? 

The idea for Ghost of Mae Nak came about when I first went to Thailand to work as a cinematographer for the British feature film Butterfly Man (later I was awarded Best Cinematographer at 2003 Slamdunk Film Festival Park City for my photography). While in Bangkok , I became fascinated with Thai legends and Ghost stories. I heard about an actual shrine at Wat Mahabut in the Prakahnong area that is devoted to a famous female ghost legend called Mae Nak (Mother Nak). The Mae Nak shrine is visited by hundreds of Thai people everyday who ask for blessing and guidance. I became more fascinated with the Mae Nak legend and her tragic love story.

I also discovered that there had been many films about her over the last 50 years. I watched the definitive Mae Nak period film called Nang Nak directed by Nonzi Nimiburt. This film concluded with the ‘evil' spirit of Mae Nak being held captive in a piece of bone cut from her forehead by an Exorcist Monk, and the bone was lost in time. It was here that I was inspired to write my script and continue the Mae Nak story.

In Thailand Mae Nak is a legend and there are many stories about her. A lot of people believe the legend to be true and the Monk who exorcised her did exist. The legend is as famous to Thailand as Dracula or Jack The Ripper is to the West.

Why do you think Mae Nak is so revered by many Thai people?

Many Thai people revere Mae Nak, because they believe she once lived and her spirit still lives on. Couples, who go to her shrine with offerings, ask for a favor or guidance. One of the most common requests is for Mae Nak to bless them with conception of a child and protection during the pregnancy. This is because Mae Nak is seen as a guardian Mother--that is why she is known as Mae (Mother) Nak.

The story of Mae Nak is also a tragic love story and about love that transcends death. This is also valued and it was an inspiration for me to tell her story.

Which directors inspire you the most and why?

Many filmmakers inspire me. Sometimes it is because I've seen a film that has an impact on me and triggers an emotional or creative inspiration. Then films that are related to a script I am writing inspire me. Since I write horror stories I watch a lot of horror films for inspiration. I would say ‘horror director's' who  inspire me are ones who have created a style, a language or an atmosphere that has defined horror and set a horror precedent.

Ridely Scott's Alien, John Carpenter's Halloween, Tobe Hooper's Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Robert Wise's The Haunting, Dario Argento's Suspiria, Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. Sam Rami's Evil Dead. These are just a few.

While the Final Destination-styled denouements of several bad characters in the film are quite imaginative, two stand out in my mind: Mr. Tock's untimely run-in with fire and that nasty sheet glass incident with the seedy house attendant. Can you tell us more about the choreography and logistics involved in setting those terrific stunt effects up?

Mr.Tock's death by immolation or “Death by Chicken Barbecue” as we called it, took a lot of planning. It had three stages. First Tock falls backwards after seeing the Ghost, in to a large pan of boiling oil. Scolding and boiling he runs out into the path of a TukTuk taxi and is hit by it which sends him hurtling into a large chicken barbecue rack where he is impaled and bursts into flames.

First we had to design a Chicken barbecue big enough for a man to fall on. I came up with the concept and the Production designer drew up a blueprint that was then passed onto a metalworks company to physically build it. It was quite sophisticated because it had to work and rotate 8 chickens on metal skewers over a real flame. The skewers had to be ‘break-away' so the stuntman could fall on them. The effects company First Ideas created them. The stunt company Baan Rig provided a brave stuntman who would be completely set on fire. The fire stunt was handled with great care and caution with Hollywood supplied fire retardants and protective clothing and an ambulance on stand-by. It took a whole day to film that sequence at the actual market square, and it attracted a huge crowd who patiently watched and applauded.

A falling sheet of glass or “Death by Dissection” kills Mr. Ant, the seedy house attendant. This too required a lot of planning. We filmed this at the Tobacco Studios backlot where we built a street set lined with market stalls and traffic.

Nirun Changklang, the actor who played Ant, first had to visit the effects company First Ideas to have a full life-size cast of his entire body in latex made. The authentic looking body-cast was literally sliced in half from his head through to his groin and then joined back together with a hinge.

On set, Baan Rig wired up the two large sheets of glass (Plexiglas) to fall on cue. The life-size Ant figure was treated like a giant puppet with wirework to support him and control the split. Later the CGI effects company Digital Lab would enhance this with computer generated wire removal and digital blood. The scene also required a stunt vehicle and driver for the screeching bus, stunt extras to jump out of the way, a trained dog to pick up Ant's severed arm, and a bucket full of animal offal to add grossness to the “Grand Guignol” scene. The Ghost of Mae Nak DVD will feature my Director's Video Diary as an extra that will visually show how the death scenes were filmed as well as the day-to-day film making process.

What will be your next film in horror cinema?

I am writing an exciting new horror script set in the US in English language. I do have several other spec horror scripts I have written and I am also rewriting or fine-tuning them. This is something I always do with my scripts until they get made. I do have a new Thai/Asian horror script, but with Western characters and English language, it's a great idea. I am keen to develop my passion for horror/fantasy films. I have some great, original ideas, however I'm afraid I don't want to reveal anything about my scripts as yet, but I will keep you posted.

Finally, what question have you been dying to be asked, but no one has asked yet? And what's your answer?

I guess the question I would like to be asked is to describe the type of writer/director I am?

As a writer/director, I feel I am drawn to explore darker stories with adult themes in the horror and fantasy film genre. As a writer I love researching the subject for a new script. I become possessed with wanting to know as much as I can about the subject. This involves reading biographies, historical literature, or any related source of information I can acquire. I also watch a lot of films or documentaries, especially horror based, as I mainly write horror. Writing a script takes a lot of energy and requires a strict discipline but can be very exhilarating.

As a Director, I feel I am a well-organized, calm director, with plenty of planning, but I also like to allow for the unpredictable ‘cinematic' moments. I have loved horror films from an early age and aspire to direct a horror film that would become a classic. Some of my favorites are; The Changeling , Stir Of Echoes , The Shinning, The Exorcist, Suspiria, The Haunting, Candy Man, Final Destination, and The Omen.

Finally, I would like to thank Zombos' Closet for showing interest in the Ghost of Mae Nak and myself as writer and director. I would like to thank the fans of Ghost of Mae Nak. I appreciate your support. And for those who have not seen it, then I hope you will give the GHOST a chance and allow yourself to be taken on a ghostly thrill in Bangkok, Thailand and discover a true Thai legend.

Movie Review: The Maid (2005) Those Damned Domestics

Zombos Says: Very Good

I always make the mistake of picking up the phone. If I would just let it ring and ring, and let voicemail kick in, I’d be fine. I had a lapse in judgement, what else can I say?

"Look," my editor told me over the phone," you're seriously behind in your reviews. I've got DVDs coming out of my—oh, good god!" I heard him gasp.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"It's the ghost of Mae Nak, she's pissed you haven't reviewed her movie yet. Wow, you've got quite a hole in the head there,"

"What? Me?"

"Not you, the ghost. She's got this J-Horror thing going on, and a gaping hole right in the middle of her head."

"Fine," I said. "Tell her I’ll get to the review as soon as I can. Not like I’m getting paid for this, you know."

"She's not buying it. She hissed you still get free DVDs so stop the crap. Hey, cut that out! Look, I'm just the editor, Zoc’s the one you should—ouch, stop!" he yelled.

I had to hold the cell phone away from my ear as things were getting a bit loud. There was a scream or two, then silence.

"Hello? Hello? Are you still there?" I asked. A loud hissing sound, followed by a crash of glass and some foul-sounding foreign language sputtered from the phone, then it went dead. Oh, well, I thought, that’s that. I was wrong.

I turned around and found the ghost of Mae Nak floating a few feet in the air from me. She definitely was not a happy camper. I can't remember any Asian ghosts that ever were, come to think of it. They are always out for revenge, or retribution, or something else equally nasty. Not seeing a good ending to all this, I started to think faster than Bugs Bunny.

"That's a nasty hole in her head, isn't it," I said.

Mae Nak wailed a frightful one. Banshees had nothing over her in that department.

"Okay, look. I can get to the review today. I'll even toss in a review of The Maid for good measure. Just stop pestering me so I can get back to work.

Mae Nak nodded, floated over to my office attic’s door, and then through it, as easily as a hot knife cuts through butter.

I picked up the phone to see if my editor was still alive.

I could hear a whimpering sound, followed by labored breathing, punctuated by "oh, sh*t, oh, sh*t" over and over again.

"Good, you're still there," I said. "I’ll send you the review for The Maid before Mae Nak comes back. What? Broken? Well then, use your good hand, then."

I hung up and quickly finished the review.

 

An effective ghost story should have an air of mystery to it: why is there a ghost? What purpose does the ghost have in haunting a particular place or person? A modicum of pathos is also important for a truly emotional turn of the screw, as a ghost cannot only be vindictive or vengeful, but must have sadness about it; something that we can empathize that will make the haunting all the more tragic, as well as spooky.

Gore also must be kept to a minimum as an effective ghost story relies on creating and sustaining a balanced mood of tension. Too much gore and the balance shifts into rapid moments of revulsion and anxiety, whereas a good ghost story relies on impression and subtlety, implying more than is actually shown.

The mystery in The Maid builds slowly and inexorably toward a climax that brings us from where we thought we were to an unexpected place that surprises us. Director and writer Kelvin Tong, while using the now standard shock cuts of ghosts sitting, floating and crawling, keeps the gore factor down and raises and twists Rosa's (Alessandra de Rossi) impressions of what's happening in this first significant horror movie from Singapore.

Rosa is a young Philippine maid who travels to Singapore to work for the Teo family. While traveling as a stranger in a strange land is stressful enough, her trip is made more vexing by the timing of it. She arrives at the Teo residence during Hungry Ghost Month, a time when the gates of hell unlock and all those annoying relatives you really didn't want to see anymore return.

Of course, there are ways to appease the ghosts, and Rosa, not at all familiar with the rituals that the community follows during this preternatural month, sweeps up ashes that were better left alone. No sooner than you can say boo! she's seeing dead people, or sitting in their reserved chairs for the opera, or hearing strange sounds and watching doors fly open as they pull their usual scare tactics. Let's face it, if you're dead, scaring the living can be lots of fun. What else can you do?

As she becomes more and more unnerved by all this, she notices a neighbor that runs away from her, and the Teo family begins to act a little odd. Which is quite a change from her initial entry into the musically-inclined family; who, with their co-workers in the opera, broke into song upon her arrival. But now the Teo family is becoming distant, and more controlling.

And then there is Ah Soon (Benny Soh), the little-boy that can't grow up with his body, the Teo's son. He develops an infatuation with Rosa, and Rosa plays along with his childish behavior. Which isn’t a good thing to do.

Through the increasing ghostly activity, Rosa realizes one ghost in particular is trying to get her attention. But why? Like any well-crafted mystery there are clues along the way, but of course you never notice them until the summary flashbacks at the end, then you kick yourself for not realizing what's happening

Okay, I kickmyself for not realizing what's happening.

In too many American horror movies, it's the undead or loony-toon psycho, and the soon-to-be-dead that are prominent in the story, along with a modicum of T&A and flashy gore for good measure. The Maid eschews all that and focuses on the relationships between the living and the dead, and Rosa, who doesn't disrobe at any point in this movie (take note of my disappointment here), or curse using soap-worthy words, or act in any way like "I'm just here to be killed" kind of fashion. Instead, Tong builds his story on the traditions and eeriness inherent in Hungry Ghost Month, and provides quiet moments of uncertainty at first, then less quiet moments as Rosa realizes the supernatural world is real and uncomfortably close.

But is she in danger from the ghosts or from the Teo family? Or both?

Her struggle to find out makes Tong's story a suspenseful, slightly scary, and very entertaining traditional ghost story to watch.