Tony Rivers (Teenage Horror Factory) goes all caveman by sending us his movie pressbook scans for The Neanderthal Man. I don't know if it's the "greatest thriller-chiller since Frankenstein," but the color-in feature is cool as hell. And the overly ambitious shock-appeal marquee illustration is wild.
Continue reading "Movie Pressbook: The Neanderthal Man (1953)" »
Thanks to a nudge from author James Chambers (he's also head honcho for the New York Chapter of the Horror Writers Association), I had the opportunity to watch the horror entries for the Winter Film Awards 2015 (http://winterfilmawards.com/) in preparation for judging, and I must say almost every entry is fresh and engaging in direction and storyline. Here's the kit and kaboodle in one take.
My favorite is the 23 minute Tokyo Halloween Night by Mari Okada (http://www.momomatsuri.com/2013/tokyohalloweennight.html). A delightful, and cheeky, fantasy that brings together a very unhappy scarecrow and a very lonely zombie for one Halloween night, it's playful with its visual and narrative texts, in both style and scripting. With her balance between horror elements and whimsy, Okada brings a fun film that's part storybook, part social commentary, and all horror comedy. I can easily see this short being developed into a full-length movie. (See Mari Okada here: http://vimeo.com/user16899819)
At 82 minutes running time, The Redwood Massacre gore-mess by director 
David Ryan Keith, is the longest entry in the WFA 2015 horror nominee pool. It's also the least satisfying. Unstoppable serial-killing machine (been there), heads sawed open with rusty blades (okay, that's really disturbing!), sharp weapons wielded with aplomb (no one ever ducks anymore?), and the mostly comatose-minded victims meandering into the killer's warren, leave this movie a slowly paced, albeit energetically gory, slice of the same-old, same-old. Faster pacing, inspired scripting, and a focal point extending beyond the bloody closeups would have benefitted this one and us.
The 3 minute Institutionalized, by director Roy Schweiger, is a strange, evocative, and bewildering 19 still image conversion into 
moving frames. A fashion statement, a mind-blown statement, and a statement I can't quite put my finger on, there's a weirdness filtering throughout. His Milan-based beauty and fashion photography background is brought foreground here, creating a short entry into the disturbing for you. (http://vimeo.com/92082037).
Director Marc Martínez Jordán's Timothy,(https://www.facebook.com/pages/Timothy-the-shortfilm/584999148225915), is a 10 minute horror short about a boy, his bossy sitter, and a kids show the boy likes to watch, with a cartoon-voiced, and really big bunny named Timothy (if you're okay with a person dressed up as a funny fuzzy bunny, that is) as its host. All three meld together in one evening of mayhem. I would point you to a Goosebumps episode where the kids show host pops out of the TV for an idea of what's happening, but then I'd be a bit wrong because..well, I'll leave that up to you to 
find out. A good short, not entirely original or fresh, but the direction, production values, and atmosphere are executed as well as the victim. What's very interesting here is how Jordan takes a Japanese horror trope--the creepazoid person-animal-thing--and makes it his own. I can see why this entry is in the Winter Film Awards for 2015.
Cynthia, by Christopher Wells, is 11 minutes of hell. It's who's hell I'll leave for you to figure out. Of course the main character is the prime suspect, and there's the devil to pay (actually, he is waiting for payment, apparently), and a woman who is hanging around (double meaning alert!), with a computer as the main complaint, or instigator, or excuse. I get the feeling Wells is drawing on personal experience here. Brisk editing, short sour moments, and key visuals to fill in just enough of the backstory, make this a traditional horror themed play on guilt, condemnation, and no reconciliation possible. It plays like a Reefer Madness for computer-addicted users. I feel so guilty after watching it. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aei_tOBPsWI)
Yung-Jen Yang's Sweet Sixteen is 9 minutes of birthday party and dreadful circumstance. But some of it seems to have been lost in translation. There's Haley, an adopted Chinese girl, who wants to know who her biological mother is. Simple. Or not. There's a little vengeance spirit holding a grudge angle here, so we know there's a sinister secret waiting to be discovered. Or not. There's a flashback, or flash ahead, and a sharp cake knife handled in the wrong way. Or not. More here is needed to understand, but these 9 minutes aren't quite enough to flesh out the picture Yang is drawing for us. So count this one interesting but incomplete. Of all the nominees, this one needed another minute or two of backstory, or future story, to help it sink into our psyche. (http://sweet16yang.wix.com/yungjenyang#!sweet-sixteen/c1amd)
I can try and explain The Jelly Wrestler but you wouldn't believe me. I can say, though, that, working in a bar in Brooklyn (well back when), I can understand, even accept, the premise, the angst, and the 
sticky squish. I'm not even sure if this is an official entry, but it appears on the nominees page, just only it looks like an afterthought, or maybe a late addition, so it's fair game. The horror comes in at the end, or maybe it's there all the time. I'll let you decide. It's directed by Rebecca Thomson and written by Claire D'Este, and there's something a little delirious, something a lot serious about this 14 minute story of Eileen, a former Queen of the Gelatine, barmaid who's getting too old, too bitter, and too brushed-aside. She's also a very sore loser. (http://www.rebeccathomson.com.au/#!the-jelly-wrestler/cj7j). Don't miss this one. I can't say why you shouldn't (still wondering myself), but just don't miss it.
Tony Rivers (Teenage Horror Factory) strikes again, sharing his recently acquired pressbook for The Creature Walks Among Us. My favorite part of this pressbook is the Creature Walks Among Us Coloring Fun! Get your crayons out now!
Continue reading "Movie Pressbook:
The Creature Walks Among Us (1956)" »
This news release in my email caught my interest. Not a horror movie, but the off-the-safestream story here makes me want to see how the director and scripter handle it. 
Drunktown's Finest premiered at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival and has since gone on to win a number of awards, including the Grand Jury Prize for Best Dramatic Narrative and HBO Best First Feature awards at Outfest 2014, as well as Best Film at the American Indian Film Festival in San Francisco. The film has screened at over 50 film festivals around the world, hailed by Twitch as "a compelling snapshot of contemporary Navajo life". Filmmaker Magazine lauded transgender Navajo American writer/director Freeland for her "authentic voice."The Story:Drunktown’s Finest is the coming-of-age story of three young Native Americans – a college-bound Christian girl raised by white parents, a rebellious and lost father-to-be, and a promiscuous yet gorgeous transsexual - as they struggle to escape the hardships of life on the Navajo reservation. This film portrays modern Native American youths struggling to find their place in the world, but, more importantly, reveals the same struggles that many young Americans face while growing up in small town U.S.A.
I dial the phone number...
"Hello, this is Joe Franklin."
"Hello Joe, this is Jim Knusch."
"Why do I know that name?" asks Joe.
"Because I guested on your TV Show once as well as on your radio show, twice."
"Yes, what can I do for you?" asks Joe.
"I was wondering if we could arrange another appearance, TV or radio?"
"Pick your own time," says Joe.
"For which, TV or radio?"
"You name it," says Joe.
"Maybe the TV show again?"
"Call me next week on Tuesday at 3PM."
Joe hangs up...
I dial the phone number - that Tuesday at 3PM...
"Hello, this is Joe Franklin."
"Hello Joe, you told me to call you at this time."
"Who is this?" asks Joe.
"This is Jim Knusch, I called last week."
"Why do I know that name?" asks Joe.
"Because I guested on both your TV and radio shows."
"Call me next Thursday, at 11AM. I'll have good news."
Joe hangs up.
The End. No more calls.
If one truly wanted to do the Joe Franklin Show, whether for the first or the one thousandth time, this was the petty ritual one had to endure with who I came to think of as Mr. Phony Sincerity. When calling his office, it was a pretty sure bet that the man himself would answer. Occasionally, he would direct someone, anyone, who was visiting him in his office to pick up and answer for him. Always, he would have a few words. These words could be a few superlative compliments, a directive to call back "next week" and then he would hang up without even a goodbye. Anyone who called him would come to know this terse bum's rush. It became legend. Since he left this realm on Jan 24, 2015, I feel compelled to relate my very brief association with him for posterity.
My earliest memory of Joe Franklin goes back to my childhood. Whenever I was kept home from school because of illness the only thing I had to combat near terminal boredom was television. 1950s black and white daytime television consisted of reruns of old TV shows, older movies, kiddie shows, and something new to the media: talk shows. After a few hours of channel hopping, among the maybe 5 or 6 channels available, one would eventually hit upon Joe's show.
His set was designed roughly like a living room, giving the impression that the show was coming from his actual living room. But of course it wasn't. Most of the time he had a guest that I never heard of. If the guest was a musical artist, or someone almost close to being a musical artist, one of their recordings would be played at some point. Listening to it also brought back and forth dissolves of closeups of Joe and his musical guest with frozen smiles, the album cover, and photographs propped on a table, until the piece ended. The show opened and closed with the tune The 12th Street Rag. For the longest time I thought this tune was something created exclusively for his show. I was wrong.
A recent Village Voice article (with another not so fond remembrance, perhaps) stated that Joe Franklin made "Boredom Beatific." I think now I'm getting what the author meant.
In later interviews Joe related the story of his own youthful years and his admiration, and obsession, with Eddie Cantor. He personally related to me that he would forever consider Cantor the absolute best entertainer who ever lived. Another claim Joe made was he had possibly the most popular radio show ever to broadcast from his hometown, New York City. When the local TV stations were expanding their programming he was called by one of the local stations, WJZ-TV. He was asked if he could "fill an hour of television per day" (his actual statement). This was in 1950. WJZ-TV eventually became WABC-TV. In 1963 he moved to WOR, ending the run of his show in 1993.
He also occasionally made mention of the fact that he had perfected something he called faking sincerity. He said, "Once you've perfected faking sincerity your career in show business is made." The Memory Lane radio show he hosted continued until his death. He never missed a show.
Yes, I actually did the Joe Franklin Show, both TV and the radio show. The time was the mid 1980s. Since I had been guesting on local Long Island cable TV and radio shows, including co-hosting a weekly cable network audio show for about 8 months, a friend recommended contacting Joe Franklin. My friend had done his show in the past and was contemplating an attempt at another TV appearance.
After going through the phone tag ritual that Joe put everyone through, he invited me to his office near Times Square in NYC. It was a small office in a building that had seen better days. A small handmade sign hung above the door labeled Memory Lane. Inside the office was a couch, a chair, maybe a small desk and two old style rotary dial phones. The two phones had duct tape wrapped around them, preventing any use of the dials. Joe called no one. Everyone called him. Strewn all around the office were magazines, papers, letters and other clutter. While sitting there with him one would be recruited to answer a ringing phone, but all callers were subjected to the Joe Franklin phone tag, brush-off, ritual.
But I finally was awarded a day and a time for a taping of his show. Directions to the WOR-TV studio in Secaucus were provided. He even sent his assistant down to a local deli for coffee for the both of us, on him. During the taping of the show my brief stint consisted mainly of commenting on the current article I then had in FilmFax Magazine. We spoke about a few other items involving Film History. He then actually paid me a compliment. He pointed at me and said to the other guests, "The man knows his stuff!" After the taping of the TV show, he suggested I guest on his Saturday late night radio show. I managed two radio appearances.
Feeling lucky, a year or two later I thought I would attempt to guest on his TV show again. I called his office and, yes, the phone tag brush-off routine was back in place. Soon I figured that, no, I really don't need to go through it all again. This, especially, since he instructed me to call back during a holiday.
One interesting fact that Joe had related to me, in-between the taping of my appearance on his TV show, was the fact that when the show was eventually broadcast it would also be beamed to a satellite. His show was seen in several areas of the world. Mail came in from as far away as the Fiji Islands. Mr Phony Sincerity or not, I took his comment on my knowing my stuff as a true compliment. I like to think that everyone who watched that show, even those in the Fiji Islands, heard that compliment.
I just hope they weren't merely trying to combat their own boredom, beatific or otherwise.
Here's a news release from Withoutabox regarding the Brooklyn Film Festival...
BROOKLYN FILM FESTIVAL Brooklyn, New York - USA May 29 to June 7, 2015
In the Spotlight today is the 18th Annual Brooklyn Film Festival (BFF), touted by Wall Street Journal as "One of Brooklyn's most enduring cultural staples," and named by MovieMaker Magazine as one of "50 Film Festivals Worth the Entry Fee" in 2014. Hosting filmmakers from around the world, BFF is a mecca for many artists ready to captivate audiences with their storytelling perspective. Many of the filmmakers in the festival are first or second time directors, who are creating challenging, visionary work.
As one of the oldest and most respected festivals in New York City the opportunities to excel are abundant. Submissions are accepted across six categories: Narrative Feature, Documentary Feature, Short Narrative, Experimental, Animation, and Short Documentary.
The Brooklyn Film Festival offers over $50,000 USD in awards and prizes to filmmakers, with the support of industry-related sponsors like Panavision NY, Abelcine, Xeno Lights, Media Services, Film Friends, Mik Cribben Steady-Cam, Cinecall Soundtracks, and Windmill Studios.
Additionally, BFF takes pride in honoring great work both in front of and behind the camera. Each year, certificate awards are presented to the festival's Best New Director, Best Producer, Best Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Editing, Best Actor & Actress, and more. Many BFF alumni have gone on to successful theatrical runs, to be broadcast on HBO, PBS, and P.O.V., and to be nominated for Oscar and BAFTA awards. BFF has helped launch several American and international independent projects to public acclaim, including recent award winners like Battle For Brooklyn (Oscar shortlist, 2012), Old Dog(MOMA theatrical release, 2013), Brooklyn Castle (POV broadcast, 2013), Gut Renovation(Film Forum theatrical release, 2013), and CaveDigger (Oscar Nomination, 2014).
UPCOMING DEADLINE February 14, 2015 - Regular Deadline View submission details
MISSION AND OBJECTIVE BFF provides a forum for the advancement of public interest in films and in the independent production of films in Brooklyn.
MORE ABOUT THE FESTIVAL Unfolding in Williamsburg, Brooklyn - the epicenter of New York's robust film, art, and music scene - BFF offers its visitors a wide range of networking opportunities and parties, as they mix and mingle with distributors, theater owners, executives, and producers from New York's film world.
This year the event will also offer additional screenings in Greenpoint, Bushwick, and DUMBO expanding its reach in Brooklyn's local arts communities. In each competitive category, films will be selected for recognition with an Audience Award, a Spirit Award, and a Best Film Award, maximizing opportunities for terrific talent to be championed on a high-profile platform, with the winning films in each category given a one-week theatrical run in New York City.
Brooklyn Film Festival invites filmmakers ready to launch - check out the official call for entries.
I don't know what it is about mummies and barely dressed unconscious women, but you see this kind of thing a lot in horror movies and comics. It's always either a mummy or some monster, corpse, vampire, werewolf, or nasty male creature carrying off a woman. I'd love to see an unconscious naked guy being carried off one of these days. Just once, at least, please. Women in Horror 2015 is coming up and I know for certain this is definitely not the kind of cheap, exploitative image we should perpetuate for modern horror. Sure, it sells comics and movies (or tries to), but it is growing stale. After so many victimizations of poorly dressed women running, feinting, and screaming through the horror of it all, you would think the male-pattern-baldness mentality going on here would get a beating. Before that happens though, I suggest you read why they made this poor guy a living corpse wrapped in rags (and if she catches her death of cold dressed like that).
Walk with me, won’t you?
My mom and I are heading to the Benson Theater on 86th Street. We are in Bensonhurst Brooklyn, in New York. The year is 1970, or so, and the day’s light is waning as the evening presses down. The walk is not too far to the Benson and the best thing is that across the street is the Loew’s Oriental Theater, so we always have a choice of movies to see. The Benson isn't ornate like the Loew’s though, just your screen and seats basics, but we do catch a lot of wonderful horror movies there.
I’ll never forget when we saw Vincent Price in The Abominable Doctor Phibes because the theater’s air-conditioning wasn't working that particular summer’s night. It was hot sitting there in the dark. They even kept the front doors open to help cool down the place but that made it noisy every time the elevated train that ran along 86th street screeched past.
But I digress. Memories can do that to you, you know.
We have our tickets! With our popcorn and Cokes we sit in the middle row, about center to the screen. We aren't sitting in the balcony this time around. Man, I love sitting in the balcony; any theater’s balcony for that matter. Tonight we are seeing House of Dark Shadows, the only soap opera my mom and I love watching. Shh! What a pleasure it is not seeing screen messages to turn off cell phones, don't text during the movie, don't read your tweets, don't talk with your mouth full, and--but this is 1970, or so, and...
...Like countless other kids of my generation, I ran home after school, every day, to watch a soap opera that even I could love, Dark Shadows, on television. Now it was a movie! Jonathan Frid’s Barnabas Collins would bare his fangs on the big screen, more blood would flow from his attacks, vividly red blood to boot, and the story’s episodic arc of vengeful curse, supernatural circumstance, and the narrow halls of Collinwood, filled with the dark shadows of Collins Family history, would be hammered into a running time of ninety-seven minutes. Not constrained by television’s censorship, the vampire attacks would be more horrific and the scenes more expansive and atmospheric. I was ecstatic with anticipation.
At first, Dan Curtis, the creator of the series and now director of the movie, envisioned editing “already existing television video material into a full-length feature, as had been previously done with the Man From Uncle, but the complexities of the Dark Shadows storyline would not permit an easy edit for the screen.” (The Dark Shadows Companion). Nor would the video quality variations and continuity problems make it an easy or convincing fit with newly filmed material anyway. Then, finding backers for the movie proved a hard sell. ABC refused to back their own show, even though they were loving the television series audience of 15,000,000 viewers. One misguided producer even recommended recasting the television series stars with other stars, even though David Selby (who played Quentin Collins, another cursed soul in the series) could “draw a million kids to shopping centers.” He played a werewolf, that's why. After Curtis spent two years of shopping the movie around Hollywood, the newly-installed president of MGM, James Aubrey, said “Let’s go,--what the devil are we waiting for?” (TDSC)
Filming the movie over 5 weeks while the television series continued to air was a challenge. On television, the alternate universe storyline, Parallel Time, introduced new characters and provided various plot devices that covered the necessary absence of actors appearing in House. Barnabas was chained in a coffin on television while he roamed free in his cinematic incarnation. That incarnation would be more evil and less sympathetic than the soap opera one, taking its cue from the early days of Barnabas’s entry into the television series to spark flagging ratings. Then, and for the movie, he was “a darker, more Hammeresque vampire Barnabas with no mitigating providence to steer him from his eventual end.” (TDSC) Perhaps this is why ratings for the series dropped a short time after the very successful movie painted a more brutal and evil antagonistic vampire than what viewers of the television show were happier with? Or perhaps because Curtis killed off just about everybody in the movie? Awkward.
The Lyndhurst Estate in Tarrytown, New York, would become the new Collinwood. Curtis, his production team, and the actors had to film around the regularly scheduled tours of visitors to the mansion (a National Historic Trust site), but its period rooms made it worth doing so. Money was saved on props and decor because the mansion was already furnished with priceless antiques, rich furniture, evocative paintings, and enough dark shadows of its own to give House an elegance well beyond its small budget. An hour’s drive from Manhattan also made it an easy location to get to for the actors.
Shooting began on March 23, 1970, at the Sleepy Hollow cemetery a few miles away, where an existing mausoleum was dressed over with the Collins Family name. Shooting Carolyn’s funeral there proved a bit more of a challenge than anticipated. A grave diggers strike had caused bodies to be piled into a building needed for shooting. Non-union workers were hired to tackle the growing piles of corpses, but their constant interruptions to carry the corpses out of the building prompted Curtis to finally plead “Can you do that later, please, it’s not like they’re going anywhere.” (The Dark Shadows Movie Book) Additional sets were fashioned out of Lyndhurst’s rooms. The kitchen became Dr. Julia Hoffman’s laboratory (how can you forget staccato-voiced Grayson Hall?), where she worked at finding a cure for Barnabas’s vampirism (it was a virus! Like the one in House of Dracula. I wonder if she was related to Dr. Edelmann?). The basement became the wardrobe department, and the souvenir shop was taken over by the make-up team. (TDSMB)
The interior crypt scene where Willie Loomis (John Karlen) goes to find treasure, but finds Barnabas’s hand suddenly around his startled throat instead, was shot in an exterior building on the Lyndhurst grounds. Curtis shot 9 hours a day, barring interruptions from the weather, which proved colder and wetter than they expected, and shot day-for-night for the night scenes. While the resulting look on film is obvious, shooting that way did save time and money as night-time shooting requires more set up and lighting considerations. Kathryn Leigh Scott, in her Maggie’s House of Dark Shadows Diary, gives a little insight into Curtis’s directing style: “During the break, I overhear the camera crew talking. One of them says Dan has a great way of bringing unity to the set—everyone hates him. And this is the first day?” (TDSMB) John Karlen had kinder words for Curtis, calling him a good actors director.
The Old House, where Barnabas takes up residence, forcing Willie to restore it to its former glory, was a location at the Schoales Estate in Connecticut. It is here that Carolyn, in a fit of jealousy, invokes Barnabas’s anger and vampiric fury as Willie helplessly looks on. Her subsequent rise as vampire leads to one of the movie’s highlights in its staging and execution, bringing to mind a hint of the Hammer aesthetic. She is eventually cornered by police officers brandishing crosses, overpowered, and held down as Professor Stokes (Thayer David) hammers a stake through her heart. Watch this scene closely; you will notice Curtis cuts away just before Stokes brings the hammer down on the stake, then cuts to the stake in her chest, with suitably bloody results. Thayer David would not hit the stake hard enough, so after numerous takes Curtis gave up pleading with him to hit the bloody thing harder and decided to get the best take he had and fudge it with editing. Lost in the editing, also, was why the police suddenly become believers in vampires.
Perhaps more noticeable than it should be is Curtis’s approach to editing, with additional help from film editor Arline Garson (although her only editing credit on IMDb is for The Beatles at Shea Stadium (1966). An odd thing happens as you watch the story unfold past the first 21 minutes. Scenes are cut so that they don’t quite match in spacial and time relationships, appearing too brief in some cases. It’s as if Curtis decided to trim seconds here and there, but instead of tightening the pacing and reinforcing the structural logic of events, he causes a hiccup effect, making his match cuts almost appear to be jump cuts. Dark Shadows fans could easily fill in the fractional timing gaps with their memories of the television series. New viewers may find the editing a bit disconcerting. Overall, it creates a rushed story that could have used a few more minutes to flesh out events more clearly. The studio didn't pressure him to shrink the movie's running time, that would come later with Night of Dark Shadows. Perhaps Curtis, coming from television, subconsciously worried about bridging through non-existent commercials?
One cannot mention the Dark Shadows movie without bringing up Dick Smith’s wonderful makeup effect for the aging Barnabas (a favorite scene for monster magazines of the day). After Julia becomes miffed at his preferring Maggie over her, she slips a mickey into his hypodermic needle used to deliver his anti-vampire dose. This causes Barnabas to age to his true life span of 200 years in a few seconds. Of course, he still has enough energy to throttle Julia to death with his withered hands in his rage. To accomplish the extreme aging for Jonathan Frid, Smith used the bald cap he designed for Dustin Hoffman in Little Big Man, then, under Curtis’s suggestions, added a stronger veiny and mottled look to Frid’s facial features; more effort was put into this effect than was done in the series episode that showed the same plot twist. The transformation effect is startling. Combined with Robert Colbert’s signature music for the series, with additional scoring taken from his The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Hyde (1968), it works perfectly. Curtis insisted Colbert, who wanted to do original music for the movie, use his previous work instead. Curtis even went so far as to edit to the pre-scored music, which may account for the jarring match cuts.
“At a boy, Willie!” yells my mom to the theater screen as we watch House of Dark Shadows. Willie is doing his best at being Willie (helpless and frantic) and she enjoys watching him sweat. But Willie redeems himself at the end, driving a really big arrow bolt into Barnabas’s back and up through his chest. The scene unfolds in slow motion, the music is poured on, and soon the credits roll. Hey, what’s that bat doing flying out of the spot where Barnabas collapsed? Does that mean a sequel! Sadly, the planned sequel wound up like so many ideas in Hollywood: somewhere between the bedroom and the driveway, and a different story took over the next Dark Shadows movie.
We leave the theater, fully satisfied, and looking forward to the next horror movie to play at the Benson. Well, okay, maybe not Frankenstein Meets the Spacemonster, but sure, any other horror movie. What? You need to head back ? Okay. Thanks for joining us.
Let’s get together again real soon.
The following essential books were quoted from and used as reference in writing this article: The Dark Shadows Companion: 25th Anniversary Collection, edited by Kathryn Leigh Scott; and the Dark Shadows Movie Book, edited by Kathryn Leigh Scott and Jim Pierson. I highly recommend.
What's wonderful about this snapshot in time? The two men working on the huge sign (look right above the word "The"), the Chock full o'Nuts, the Lucky Strike "It's Toasted," the various businesses in the building on the right, the crowds in front of the theatre and in front of the Lucky Strike (hey, it's toasted!), and the fellow in the foreground, bottom right, holding a walking stick. The movie may be The Broadway Melody, but damn if this street scene isn't also "all talking, all singing, and all dancing" to the rhythm of the city. Glorious.
Zombos Says: Good
"Well, it is about time," said Zombos.
He had been away on vacation, some sort of trip around the world as he termed it. For me it was a blissful vacation not having him underfoot. But now he was back. Nothing truly good and enjoyable ever lasts, does it?
"Time for what? I countered. I was a bit rusty with him being away for so long, but my mental machinery was slowly beginning to hiss as it built up steam.
"Why, time you got back to writing my boy. What is all this nonsense with posting scans of this and that? You have grown lazy while I have been away. Time for some meaty review or insightful observation, or perhaps even a rant or two, instead of another lobby card or magazine or movie pressbook or--."
"Those scans of this and that, as you so blithely put it, are our history old chap. Mine, yours, ours. Monsterkid history. From the vaults of memory history. You know, the stuff fond memories are made of. Otherwise known as nostalgia for older horror fans, and maybe an introduction to such wonders for those who grew up much later."
He opened his mouth to respond. Chef Machiavelli interrupted with a tray full of pistachio cannolis and a pot of his angelic espresso (you know, one cup of it and you're in heaven). We quickly both agreed to disagree between bites and sips.
"And I haven't been all that unmindful. Here's my review of Annabelle," I said.
"Splendid." He settled into his wingback armchair. His long, thin arms came to rest in their comfortable positions across its armrests. I jotted a mental note to have the chair reupholstered; its armrests, now threadbare and shiny in spots, needed attention.
"Let me hear all about it," he said, as he took another sip from his cup.
I didnt' see Annabelle in a theater. 2014 seemed to be pretty dry in creativity for widely released horror movies and I decided to simply wait and catch it on DVD. Warner Bros. Home Entertainment graciously offered their DVD+Blu-ray discs for review. I said yes. Of course.
You'll want to pop in the Blu-ray disc, it has all the featurettes, although I found each one of them too short in running time for my inquisitive and seasoned (okay, jaded) mind; but sure, they still are pertinent and worth watching. Especially the deleted scenes from the movie and the descriptions of the makeup work on the demon. A funny moment pops up while the effects team discusses the preparation of Annabelle's dolly companions for their full-blown demonic hazing. Other deleted scenes show how the storyline had changed during editing, forcing the deletions.
Looking at the designs for both demon and doll, they show a careful artistic balance between the demon's gargoyle (aka woodcut) looks and the not-quite-sinister-but-damn-she's-a-little-off Annabelle that you can appreciate. Both look ghastly when you take a long hard look, and the movie's terror easily flows from their visual and narrative suspense. Having the Annabelle doll become the conduit for the demon's evil makes it a terrible plaything in more ways than just looks. I still can't believe anyone in their right mind would go near a doll that looked like Annabelle unless they had a few stiff drinks beforehand. And were nearsighted. And probably didn't like the person they were giving the doll to.
But I'm referring to the reel doll, not the real one (see the picture), of course. As the movie progresses, Annabelle's porcelain face turns darker and her lighting and coloration more ominous as she gets her sinister on, while her already alarming smirk, grows smirkier by the minute, or seems to, making you wait for her to say something you really don't want to hear. Thank god she doesn't have a pull-string. I'm not sure who's scariest among cinema's terrible dolls such as the Saw and Dead Silence Billies, or Chucky and Tiffany, or Talky Tina, to name some of them, but that unblinking stare of Annabelle is probably the most deftly executed compression of horrifying countenance hidden in an almost pretty face; and she has Hell on her side, so there's your win-win for mayhem and scares.
And that's when you realize, and a pleasant surprise it is, that director John R. Leonetti does more with less, greatly increasing the movie's impact. Easy jump scares are replaced by a more studied atmosphere of growing doom and gloom (like the one you find in the original Omen), and he even dares to do a long take that makes the origin of the doll's cursed existence a stylish treat as much as it is a brisk-paced blood-letting (without egregious gore). Lingering closeups of Annabelle's eyes makes you wonder when they will move, and seeing Annabelle sitting in a rocking chair, or on the shelf, makes you watchful for any sudden movement. Of course she doesn't wink, blink, or deliver epigrammatic barbs like Freddy, or even move a ponytail; except for one scene where she does move, but it's what's behind her that's more scary.
The deleted scenes show what didn't make it to the final cut. One can understand why the building's creepy handyman character was removed (pointless for the narrative), and why two incidents involving the baby were also left out. The first, which includes many cats, is visually arresting, but off premise with the rest of the storyline (it happens, it's weird, so what?), but the second generates some real goosebumps. It involves baby's bath time and danger. I'm sorry it didn't make the final cut: it's that strong. But keeping it in would have probably upset a lot of audience members, and undermine the demon's purpose (a soul to need, to a demon will feed kind of purpose).
The demonic and satanic cult aspects of the movie are framed by a surfeit of Catholic faith, which almost becomes cloying and preaching when Father Perez (Tony Amendola) ponders the glory of motherhood as worried mom, Mia (Annabelle Wallis), listens distractedly. Scripter Gary Dauberman's ponderously preachy dialog takes on a pandering-weight, and Leonetti dwells on it in one or two scenes, forcing his actors to the speaking cadence you see in those corporate training shorts many employees have suffered to watch with a game face.
There's the "problematic racial function" provided by Ruby (Alfre Woodard), the bookstore owner, as described by Inkoo Kang, in her review of Annabelle for The Wrap, that warrants further academic exploration. Later. I'm not sure why Dauberman resorts to it, but it is noticeable. Like all those red shirted, landing party, classic Star Trek personnel going to their doom, we know what's coming. But then he uses a more carefully crafted approach by injecting those 1960s notions of womanhood, realized through Mia's husband (Ward Horton): Mia is imagining things because she's going through postpartum depression. A few drugs and seeing a shrink, in between watching soap operas on television, should cure her.
Lucky for us Father Perez believes in evil. And demons.
