Dolls

Dolls are found in cultures and households all over the world. Girls, boys, and even adults make them, play with them, and collect them. Perhaps it's this universality that can make the idea of these little stuffed, plastic, or porcelain beings so eerie. Do we ever really know what our playthings get up to when we're not looking? Toy Story (1995) used this quandary to light and humorous effect, but the horror genre has an altogether different idea as to what these dolls are really all about once their masters are tucked safely in bed. From dirty little teddy bears to possessed clowns, dolls are a source of much murder and mayhem in horror films, under the right circumstances. 

This month's Annabelle (2014), a spin-off/sidequel of last year's horror mega-hit The Conjuring (2013), follows in a long line of demonic dolls and predatory puppets. So if you want to spend this Halloween season on a nostalgic look back at your dollhouse days, try a few of these films featuring stuffed terrorizing tykes to get you in the mood…and then burn every doll that you've ever owned.

Attack of the Puppet People (1958)
Rushed into production after the success of The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957), this film features a lonely and deranged puppeteer/inventor who designs a machine capable of shrinking people into real-life dolls he then adds to his "special collection." A drive-in B-horror/sci-fi mesh, the film was trashed on release but was noted for having somewhat of a cliffhanger ending and has since gained a cult following.

Devil Doll (1964)
An evil hypnotist/ventriloquist, the "Great Vorelli," plots to gain and heiress' millions with the help of his very-much alive dummy, Hugo. Though not at all praised by critics, the film did feature William Sylvester, who went on to appear in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) as Heywood Floyd. 

Magic (1978)
A favorite among many in the horror community, Magic revolves around a ventriloquist (played by Anthony Hopkins) trying to renew his romance with his high school sweetheart, played by Ann-Margaret, while being stuck under the thumb of his foul-mouthed and vicious dummy, Fats. A psychological horror at its heart, Magic is less evil-dummy-come-to-life and more about the dangerous mental decline of the protagonist (the doll is, in actuality, a manifestation of Hopkins' character's repressed psyche, the primal id). A classic among true horror fans.

The Pit (1981)
A young outcast befriends a dirty stuffed bear, who proceeds to lead him to a mysterious pit in the local woods where a ravenous monster resides. Hated and bullied by both the children and adults in his community, young Jamie is convinced by "Teddy" to do all sorts of unsavory things to please the creature, including feed it by luring unsuspecting victims to the spot. 

Black Devil Doll from Hell (1984)
A blaxploitation horror film about woman who purchases a remarkable doll at a magic shop, not knowing that the doll is possessed by an evil spirit who is hellbent on residing in a new, more lifelike body--hers. 

Dolls (1987)
A personal favorite at this time of year, Stuart Gordon's Italian-American classic Dolls focuses on a group of six people, among them little Judy Bower, stranded at a secluded manor during a thunderstorm. The mansion, owned by the toy-making Hardwickes, is inhabited by a haunted collection of dolls. At some times the film is stuck more as an idea than a moving engine, but the house is one of the most magnificent sets in horror, and the Hardwickes are one of the creepiest horror film duos you'll find.

Child's Play (1988)
Familiar now to even the most casual of horror film fans, Child's Play tells the story of a single mother who gives her son a beloved doll for his birthday, only to discover that the doll is possessed with the soul of a slain serial killer; the inaugural debut of one of horror's most iconic villains, Chucky. 

PIN (1988)
A doctor acquires a lifelike, anatomically-correct medical dummy, with all the muscles and organs visible through its clear skin, nicknamed Pin (after Pinocchio). Via ventriloquism, Pin explains bodily functions in a way that children can relate to and learn about the body. After the over-strict doctor and his wife are killed in a car crash, his son Leon transfers his alter-ego into Pin, whom he always believed was alive. Leon starts using Pin as an excuse to over-protect and control his sister Ursula, shielding her from "unwanted" admirers, even to the point of committing murder.

Puppet Master (1989)
Shunned psychic Neil Gallagher finds the secret hiding place of legendary puppeteer Andre Toulon. When the puppets come to life, he commits suicide, leaving his former friends, all psychics as well, to investigate and unravel the mystery behind the murderous puppets, who have strange abilities ranging from dangerous drills to coughing up leeches. This first installment in the franchise spawned nine sequels, with rumors of more to come.

Dolly Dearest (1991)
An American family moves to Mexico when the father becomes the new owner of the Dolly Dearest toy factory. Unfortunately for them, the factory happens to be right next to an entrance to the tomb of Sanzia (meaning Satan on earth), so when an archaeologist breaks the entrance open, an old, malicious spirit is set free to take possession of the dolls and wreak havoc.

Silent Night, Deadly Night 5: The Toy Maker (1991)
The final installment in the Silent Night, Deadly Night franchise, Mickey Rooney plays an old toy maker who, with his son, fashion killer toys designed to murder their owners, children. Rooney publicly derided the first entry in the series, yet choose to accept a role in this installment, generally regarded as one of the worst horror films ever made.

Demonic Toys (1992)
A policewoman, her quarry, and an innocent delivery boy become trapped in a haunted toy warehouse. Produced by Charles Band, the creative mind behind Puppet Master, the film is loved by some, hated by others, though everyone is generally confused by the time-traveling spirits who function as a deus ex machina. Band decided to cross the toys over with the title character of the science fiction Dollman (1991) movie in Dollman vs Demonic Toys (1993) than later with Toulon's creations in Puppet Master vs Demonic Toys (2004) before finally making a direct sequel, Demonic Toys 2 (2010). 

Pinocchio's Revenge (1996)
Defense attorney Jennifer Garrick acquires a Pinocchio puppet from a condemned serial killer, which is never a good idea. Her pre-teen daughter, Zoe, mistakes the puppet as a birthday present, as pre-teen daughters named Zoe are want to do, and subsequently grows rather attached to her new wooden friend. Then, accidents begin to happen to those who cross Zoe, with Zoe blaming the doll, and her therapist convinced otherwise. In time, Zoe and Pinocchio converse about his bad behavior, and the doll swears to stop if only Zoe will cut his strings. Zoe complies, and the body count begins…

Amityville Dollhouse (1996)
A children's dollhouse, modeled after the infamous haunted Long Island residence, is given to a young girl after she and her parents move into their newly constructed house. When the girl discovers a small chest in the dollhouse containing handmade dolls, a demonic evil is unleashed and begins a new reign of terror. The eighth installment of the Amityville Horror series, the film received poor reviews and was not a success on home video.

Blood Dolls (1999)
Another killer toy adventure from Charles Band, Blood Dolls focuses on Virgil, an eccentric and freakish billionaire who is now spending his days as a "biological inventor." His latest brainwave, the "blood dolls," aid him in getting revenge on those who have betrayed him.

The Dummy (2000)
A ventriloquist's dummy brought to life now has a mind of its own, and that mind is pure homicidal. He begins to cut a bloody swath through a peaceful suburb, essentially just for the hell of it.

Doll Graveyard (2005)
In the early 1900's, young Sophia plays all by herself in her large, creepy house with only four handmade dolls as friends. When her abusive father forces her to bury the dolls in the backyard, Sophia suffers an accident and is buried alongside them. In the present, a father moves in with his son and daughter, constantly at odds. When the girl and her friends torment her younger brother, Sophia's lost dolls return, ready to take revenge on behalf of the bullied boy.

Dead Silence (2007)
A widower returns to his sinister and near-forgotten hometown to search for answer's to his wife's violent and mysterious murder, which he discovers may be linked to the ghost of a vengeful ventriloquist, Mary Shaw. Starring Ryan Kwanten pre-True Blood (2008-2014) and Donnie Wahlberg, and directed by James Wan of Saw (2004), Insidious (2010), and The Conjuring fame, Dead Silence was a box office dud, but has become popular in a large section of the horror community. 

Ooga Booga (2013)
A quasi-spin off of Doll Graveyard, this film follows an innocent African American boy who is brutally murdered by dirty cops and whose soul is then magically transferred into a traditional (stereotypical?) African warrior action figure named Ooga Booga. Revenge-laden antics ensue.


Honorable Mentions
While the following films do not feature dolls as the center of the plot, a creepy doll of some kind plays a minor role, whether it be as the focus of a segment in one of the anthology films, or otherwise frightening the characters in the film in some manner.

Dead of Night (1945)
The Twilight Zone, season 5, episode 6 "Living Doll" (1963)
Asylum (1972)
Trilogy of Terror (1975)
Poltergeist (1982)
Tales From the Hood (1995)
May (2002)

Wanna play?

Jaws

It was the prototypical summer blockbuster. A cultural and entertainment phenomenon whose ripples can still be felt almost 40 years later. It reshaped the structure of the movie industry and doomed an entire generation to always question just how safe it really is to venture out into the open water…

Jaws (U.S.A.)
Released: June 20, 1975
Director: Steven Spielberg
Screenplay: Peter Benchley & Carl Gottlieb (based on the novel Jaws by Peter Benchley)

Tagline: "Don't go in the water"

Cast: 
Roy Scheider as Police Chief Martin Brody
Richard Dreyfuss as Matt Hooper
Robert Shaw as Quint
Lorraine Gary as Ellen Brody
Murray Hamilton as Mayor Larry Vaughn

It's not uncommon for those who have seen this toothy tale to have images from the film flash across their mind every time they take a dip in the ocean…or a lake…or a river…or in a swimming pool. I used to have a recurring dream as a child that every time I went underwater in my own pool I would see a great white shark barreling towards me from the other end, despite the water being crystal clear if you were above water…and the fact that, you know, it was a pool and not the freaking Atlantic.

The story that has terrified so many is a simple one. Based on the best-selling novel by Peter Benchley, Jaws (1975) centers around the quaint coastal community of Amity Island, whose survival depends on summer tourism. After a suspected shark attack, Police Chief Martin Brody wants to close the beach, but the mayor worries that the bad publicity will ruin the annual July 4th celebrations, the most important weekend for the islanders. When a second attack claims the life of a child, Brody finds himself facing the animosity of the very citizens he has sworn to protect. Eventually, he teams up with a marine scientist, Hooper, and a colorful local fisherman/bounty hunter, Quint, to track down the rogue great white shark that has been bedeviling the silver waters of Amity Island. Aboard the Orca, the three men find that this particular great white shark is more resourceful, powerful, and committed than they ever would have guessed.

Director Steven Spielberg fashions a beast that is primarily nuanced and hidden throughout the film, an avatar of revenge. But as in the case of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds (1963), the motivation for that revenge is not immediately apparent. For example, there's the fact that this rapacious sea dragon arrives in Amity thirty years to the day after the dreadful "Indianapolis incident" which occurred on June 29-30, 1945. Quint describes, in detail, that crisis in the film: the day that his ship delivered an atom bomb to Japan. Given this anniversary, some fans have suggested the notion that the shark could be more than mere animal--a supernatural angel of death come to achieve what its finned, black-eyed brethren at the Indianapolis incident could not: the death of Quint, one of the American men who brought death and destruction to entire cities. And now the shark is not only after Quint, but is bent on hitting America where it hurts most: our economy. 

"I'm only trying to say that Amity is a summer town.

We need summer dollars"-Mayor Vaughn (Murray Hamilton)

Cinematically, Jaws derives much of its terror from what one might term "information overload." Although the great white shark remains hidden beneath the waves for most of the film, unseen but imagined, Spielberg fills in that visual gap and the viewer's imagination with a plethora of facts and figures about this ancient, deadly predator. Legendarily, the life-size mechanical model of the shark nicknamed Bruce malfunctioned repeatedly during the film's production, a reality that forced Spielberg to hide the creature from the camera for much of the time. Yet this problem worked in the film's best interests. For much of the first two acts, unrelenting tension builds as a stream of data about the "monster" washes over us.

After a close-up imagine of a typewriter clacking out the words "SHARK ATTACK," images, illustrations, and descriptions of the shark hurtle across the screen in ever-increasing numbers. Brody reads from a book that shows a rendering of a shark as a boat-destroying, ferocious sea monster. Another schematic in the same scene reveals a graph of shark "radar," the fashion by which the shark senses a "distressed" fish, its prey, far away in the water. Additional photos in the book, and shown full-screen by Spielberg, depict the damage a shark can inflict: victims of shark bites both living and dead. These are not photos made up for the film, but authentic photographs of real-life shark attack victims. At one point, Quint even draws a shark with a human inside its giant maw, a cartoon version of learning and fear. Taken all together, there images cover many aspects of sharkdom: from reputation to lore, to impact on soft human flesh. The information about sharks also comes from eyewitness testimony: Quint describing the aforementioned Indianapolis incident in horrific detail during, arguably, the film's most powerful segment.

This information overload build up the threat of the film's villain to an extreme level, while the actual beast remains silent, unseen. When the shark does wage its final attack, the audience has been rigorously prepared and it feels frightened almost on reflex. Thus, Spielberg has managed to create, from scratch, an educated audience, one that fully appreciates the threat of the great white shark. His clever filmmaking continues, however, when, even after all this education and knowledge and information, Spielberg unexpectedly harks back to the mythological aspect of sea monsters, hinting that this is no ordinary shark, but a real survivor, a monster potentially supernatural in nature. In the end, facts are unimportant, as Brody, Quint, and Hooper face down an old-fashioned, seemingly indestructible monster. 

"All this machine does is swim, and eat, 

and make little sharks" 

Combining the "keep the beaches open" Watergate conspiracy in the film with the Indianapolis story (a story, essentially, of an impotent, abandoned military), one can detect in Jaws a story about America's 1970's "crisis of confidence," to co-opt a phrase from President Jimmy Carter. After Watergate, after Vietnam, there was little faith in the elected leaders (much like today), and Jaws mirrors that reality with an unforgiving depiction of craven politicians and bureaucrats. The cure is also provided, however: the heroism of the individual, the old legend of the cowboy who rides into town and seeks justice. Brody is clearly that figure here, an outside in the corrupt town of Amity--he doesn't even like the ocean--who puts his fears aside to face the enemy head-on. Yet Brody was also involved in the initial cover-up, but then again, Americans don't like their heroes too neat. Brody must have a little blood on his hands so that his story of heroism is also one of redemption.

In part, Jaws remains legendary because of its opening sequence. This introduction to the world of the film features a teenager going out for a swim in the ocean and getting the surprise of her life. The scene is pitch-perfect both in orchestration and impact. The film begins under the sea as Spielberg's camera adopts the P.O.V. of the shark itself. The camera clings to the bottom of the ocean as it moves inland. Cut to the beach, a long, lackadaisical establishing pan across a typical teenage party. Smoking, drinking, canoodling, a spirited and youthful summer night. One girl, Chrissie, atypical blonde-haired 1970's goddess, breaks from the group, and Spielberg cuts abruptly to a high angle from a few feet away, a shot that signifies danger and distances us from the individuals onscreen. With her horny but drunk companion in tow, Chrissie disrobes for a nighttime dip in the sea, and the new angle is far below her, from the bottom of the ocean looking up. Her nude form cuts the surface above--a callback to Jack Arnold's Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), where the monster spied lovely Julie Adams and dances with her (without her knowledge) in the murky lagoon. But that is an image of a more romantic age. In this case, the swimmer is nude, not garbed, and her contact with the monster is quick and fatal. In a horrifying close-up shot, the camera registers Chrissie breaking the surface as something unseen but immensely powerful tugs at her from below. Once. Then again. After an instant, the audience realizes that the shark is eating her, ripping through her legs and torso. She begs God for help, but as one might expect in the secular, post-"God is dead" 1970's, there is no help for her.

In the best tradition of the horror genre, this scene is also oddly beautiful. The gorgeous sea, the blithe human forms moving in rhythm, the nighttime lighting. In short, everything about this moment should be romantic and wonderful. But it isn't. Spielberg takes the "malaise days" mood of the nation to generate his aura of terror, overturning traditional order, just as our belief in the United States as a "good" and powerful nation had been overturned by national traumas like the war in Vietnam and the Watergate scandal. Perhaps this is one of the reasons Jaws pulled in record-breaking numbers during its initial run in theaters. The true legacy of Spielberg's film is not the three sequels that followed, of rapidly dwindling quality (Jaws 2 [1978] sees Brody return to rescue trapped teenager sailors from a second great white, Jaws 3 [1983] involves a great white attacking a Sea World-type environment and starred Dennis Quaid, and Jaws: The Revenge [1987] defies all logic and believability by featuring a shark that apparently declares revenge on every surviving member of the Brody family), but in how the success of the film reshaped the movie industry, and pop culture in general. After Jaws, and the box office gross it made for Universal, studios turned their attention to making bigger and better summer popcorn movies, a trend that continues with debatable success to this day. 

"This was no boat accident"

Of course, Jaws has also helped perpetuate the stereotype that all sharks, including great whites, are vicious, man-eating predators, when in reality, sharks tend to avoid humans on principal, and if attacks do occur, sharks do not often consume the victim whole, but rather take an exploratory bite, disregard the taste of human, and leave. In the wake of Jaws, "monster-fishing" became a widespread hobby, and self-made "heroes" made it their business to hunt down and kill great white sharks, even though an attack had not been reported in the United States in over thirty years. For a time, the great white shark was in danger as a species, and is still somewhat hunted down with prejudice today, perhaps from viewers who cannot shake the nightmare images of the unnaturally vengeful shark they saw in Spielberg's film.

Jaws is at once political and economic allegory, and a back-to-basics pure adrenaline-pumping horror film that forces the audience to confront deep-seated fears about the water and of being eaten, of being consumed by a force greater than man. Yet is is also an adventure film, one of the first action-horrors, that channels Spielberg's Indiana Jones films more than it does any of the subpar rip-offs that followed it, like Piranha (1978). For the world's first "blockbuster", there are a surprising amount of layers hidden here, if you look deep enough…

Care for a swim?

Jaws (1975)

5-Totally Terrifying

4-Crazy Creepy

3-Fairly Frightening

2-Slightly Scary

1-Hardly Horror

Friday the 13th

Camp Crystal Lake, 1958. A pair of teenage (horny) camp counselors sneak off to enjoy an intimate moment of privacy. But they only get as far as making out before they are killed by an unknown, off-screen, assailant, the murders acting as a brutal revenge killing for the accidental drowning of a young boy, Jason, the year prior. This is the familiar opening sequence, mostly shot from the point of view of the killer, to one of the great slasher kings and a true classic of horror genre, Friday the 13th (1980).

Friday the 13th (U.S.A.)
Released: May 9, 1980
Director: Sean S. Cunningham
Screenplay: Victor Miller

Tagline: "If you think this means bad luck…you don't know the half of it"

Cast:
Adrienne King as Alice Hardy
Harry Crosby as Bill
Peter Brouwer as Steve Christy
Laurie Bartram as Brenda
Kevin Bacon as Jack Burrel
Betsy Palmer as Mrs. Voorhees

After the first two bodies drop, the film skips ahead twenty-one years to find a young couple and a group of new, teenage counselors settling down in the remains of the deserted summer camp that played host to the tragedy, ready to repair and revitalize the secluded campground. But they have not been heeding the warnings of the Crystal Lake locals, particularly those of Crazy Ralph (Walt Gorney)--doomed to always be heard, but never believed--when they are cautioned that if they stay too long at "Camp Blood," they will not come back. When a secret assailant starts offing the kids one-by-one, counselor and sensitive artist Alice is left to fend for herself in the midst of a powerful thunderstorm before the murderer is revealed in one of classic horror's great twists. 

If John Carpenter's Halloween (1978) blew the horror genre wide open by starting the slasher boom, Friday the 13th provided the template most of its successors would slavishly follow, with all of those witless teens wandering off alone at night to be graphically skewered by farm tools and sporting goods. Though director Sean S. Cunningham and writer Victor Miller certainly jumped on the Halloween bandwagon, they produced, at little expense, a glossy and quirky rip-off that proved to stand alone as a quality imitation. 

What makes Friday the 13th work, and what helped it stand out when it was released, was its killer twist ending and use of a remote, backwoods location. Crystal Lake is visualized as an idyllic American town, one filled with abundant pastoral and natural beauty. Early scenes in the film document this beauty, creating an almost Rockwellian vision of the surrounding area. These visualizations serve a crucial purpose, because the film largely concerns innocence lost or destroyed. The curse of "Camp Blood" lets us see that Crystal Lake has now become a Garden of Eden-type-setting, beauty now corrupted because two camp counselors allowed an innocent child to drown while making love--they lose their biblical innocence and a child loses his life. At the same time, Mrs. Voorhees loses her son, and therefore her innocence, along with her mind (as we later learn). Take, for instance, the scene involving the snake in the counselor's cabin--a snake in the garden, as it were--that is promptly decapitated by a counselor's machete, putting an end to the threat and restoring order. Symbolically, this scene is echoed in the film's bloody denouement as the final girl, Alice, lops of the head of a much more dangerous snake in the garden, the killer, also utilizing a machete. In both cases, we get the idea of natural order overturned by the presence of evil--a serpent, specifically--and then order is restored, even if the respite is brief.

It can be quaint when there's not various limbs strewn about

By essentially retelling Halloween's story in a remote environment, Friday the 13th managed to cement the slasher sub-genre for years and years to come. By enshrining the "rules" that Halloween established, from the killer with a vengeful agenda to the secluded, disturbed idyll, to the final girl running across all of her dead friends in a literal "tour of the dead," the film signaled a shift in horror as a whole, as made evident by the abundance of sequels that followed (ten movies followed, plus the remake in 2009, and there's a second reboot on the way next year, which will be the thirteenth Friday the 13th), and a return to the brand-name monster horrors of the 1930's. Though only present briefly in this first installment (that's right, he doesn't actually show up until Friday the 13th Part II [1981] and doesn't wear the infamous hockey mask until Friday the 13th Part III [1982]), Jason Voorhees has become an icon of the horror genre in the same vein as Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, The Mummy, and the Wolf Man. 

Of course, the film is not without its faults. Though the graphic violence does its job in making the audience feel like victims, thanks in large part to special effects artist Tom Savini, who arrived at Crystal Lake straight from the Monroeville Mall and his work on Dawn of the Dead (1978), the direction is nothing special, and the revelation of the killer, who is shown to have hairy hands and large work boots and is strong enough to heft a corpse through a window, does not play logically (even if it is shocking on first viewing). Additionally, horror fans have debated for years if Friday the 13th is even suspenseful at all,  if the story is too weak and padded to allow for true feelings of terror. 

What most F13 fans do agree on, however, is the clever use of the camera in the film. Following in the footsteps of films like Psycho (1960), Peeping Tom (1960), Halloween, and even Mario Bava's Bay of Blood (1971), Friday the 13th forces the viewer to see through the killer's eyes as the teenagers are observed from the shadows. Often positioned outside cabins or bathhouses, the camera looks at the characters through windowpanes. Outside the windows is only darkness, since the setting is motley nighttime. But inside the buildings, the characters are brightly lit and attending to their business, unaware of danger. This pervasive composition reveals not merely the voyeurism of the killer as they stalk their prey, but also visually constricts the space of the protagonists within the rectangular frame, literally boxing them inside a series of smaller and smaller boxes as the film progresses. In the tightest, most claustrophobic of those boxes, our heroes go about their business without realizing their world has become limited and closed off by the invisible presence of the slasher nearby.

He won't be kicking off his Sunday shoes anytime soon

Filming techniques like this have become standard in the slasher sub-genre, and in horror in general, and even if you don't find the film all that suspenseful, it's hard not to twitch just a little when characters blindly walk into a bloody death while staring straight at the camera, a fact that the audience can recognize and anticipate but that the characters cannot.  Little stylistic choices like these, or the abundance of "danger" and "warning" signs hanging about the decrepit, abandoned campground, make Friday the 13th a slasher that will always be a cut above the rest. 

All of the tropes seen here may seem familiar to us now, perhaps even overdone, especially since Friday the 13th is now considered fascinating not for being a stand-alone film, but for spawning a successful and highly profitable franchise, even though most of the sequels are best avoided and present less interesting filming techniques and discussion than the original. Cunningham's film can still probe the mind of seasoned viewers and horror newbies alike, making us ask what exactly is meant by the cop who warns the counselors that he will not tolerate "weirdness." It it a surface jibe at authority? Or only a mask for the conservatism that sees virginal Alice as the sole survivor and the killer's motivation revolving around punishment for sex. And what exactly is the relationship between nature and man in this story of a paradise lost? Full-on assaults on the body are conducted under a heavy thunderstorm, pounding rain and lightning, the "invader" to the garden arrives with natural cover, with the help of a force beyond this world. And so it "rains blood" at Camp Crystal Lake again, and the viewer must ask if the storm is a manifestation of the killer's rage? A protest against the unnecessary death of an innocent child? God's tears over a mother's love turned to violence? Or does He send the storm as a cover for the murderous campaign to succeed?

The first Friday the 13th is more than mere dreck, because it features some visually accomplished moments and a smattering of interesting symbolism. Not least of all, the film conforms to the slasher format's best aspect. It reminds the viewer that even if the boogeyman is at the door, they can survive. And they can do it with the qualities they already possess in spades, intelligence and insight. 

Tranquility restored, or the calm before the storm?

Friday the 13th (1980)

5-Totally Terrifying

4-Crazy Creepy

3-Fairly Frightening

2-Slightly Scary

1-Hardly Horror

April Fool's Day

In recent years, April Fool's Day (1986) has developed a semi-cult status among a pocket of dedicated slasher flick horror fans. This is largely in part due to the film having just the right amount of smarts to hold up fairly well over the years, even if some of the tension and suspense falls flat. More a mystery in the vein of And Then There Were None than an outright slasher, the film is satisfying enough for the seasoned horror fan and still accessible enough to not scare off the novice--in fact I often recommend this as a starter film for those who want to get into the slasher sub genre of horror.

April Fool's Day (USA)
Released: March 27, 1986
Director: Fred Walton
Screenplay: Danilo Bach

Tagline: "Don't let the joke be on you"

Cast:
Deborah Foreman as Buffy/Muffy St. John
Amy Steel as Kit Graham
Ken Olandt as Rob Ferris
Deborah Goodrich as Nikki Brashares
Leah Pinsent as Nan Youngblood
Clayton Rohner as Chaz Vyshinski
Thomas F. Wilson as Arch Cummings
Griffin O'Neal as Skip St. John

It's easy to classify the 1980's as the decade of the slasher film. The boom noticeably started with John Carpenter's Halloween (1978) and was further propelled to success by Friday the 13th (1980) and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), not to mention each of their many sequels and knock-offs. A string of holiday-themed horror also sprung up around this time, most of them slashers, and there did not seem to be a holiday on the calendar that was immune to having a maniac serial killer stake claim to it. April Fool's Day, helmed by Fred Walton, director of the original When a Stranger Calls (1979), was one of many such films, but was better than most.

The film centers around a group of college students heading to their wealthy friend's island summer home to enjoy Spring Break. Of course, the island is only accessible by ferry, and when a series of April Fool's pranks go awry, a boat-hand is seriously injured and rushed to the hospital. From there, the mood begins to darken after one of the friends goes missing. The group splits up (because of course they do--it's a slasher movie from the 80's, let's be real), but the search only results in more guests missing…but their heads turn up in due time. 

The film succeeds thanks to the efforts of the cast and the writing. The dialogue is clever at most points, and the characters are well-written and realistic enough that you come to like them even if they're not the most admirable of people. Most of the actors were horror regulars (Amy Steel from Friday the 13th fame) or unknowns, and this works to the film's advantage. Deborah Foreman's underrated performance is a fun viewing experience, balancing out sweetness and quirkiness in a way that has become all too familiar now.

"Three cheers for mullets and no muscle tone!

We love the 80's!"

As the body count rises and things escalate into a frenzied chase around the house, April Fool's Day moves into new waters and uncharted territory, throwing in twists, turns, red herrings, and surprise endings. Yes, that's plural. The ultimate revelation of the film has divided horror fans for years, either completely turning off some viewers, or sealing their dedication entirely. The twist is well-written, and is almost certain to surprise you, and offers a unique viewing experience in that you feel stuck, unable to move or think, for a solid 60 seconds after the final twist is unraveled. 

Regardless of the ending, the film has a lot working for it, including an eerie soundtrack and a fast-paced script that turns the movie into an Agatha Christie novel on steroids. The only fault lies in some of the larger moments of tension, where the execution just misses the mark and leaves the viewer's heart rate ramped up without payoff. This is a dangerous drawback to have, however, especially in the horror genre, and it's likely what relegated April Fool's Day to the under-the-radar-hidden-gem corner of the world of horror. Not that that's an inherently bad corner to be in.

All in all, April Fool's Day is a great starter film for the horror newbie, or the practical jokester, though just be sure that you can outsmart anyone you watch this movie with, as it certainly gives one ideas…

"Play nice today, children…"

April Fool's Day (1986)

5-Totally Terrifying

4-Crazy Creepy

3-Fairly Frightening

2-Slightly Scary

1-Hardly Horror

The Silence of the Lambs

"Hello, Clarice." Two words. That's all it takes to send chills racing down my mother's spine, even today, and the film that cemented those two words deep into American pop culture is close to 23 years old. But that's what makes one of the most famous serial killer movies of all time so durable, still so adept at making the viewer's skin crawl--it's simple, and effective. Much is to be owed to Anthony Hopkins for his Oscar-winning portrayal of "free-range rude" diner Dr. Hannibal Lecter, though that is only one impressive aspect of the chilling and haunting masterpiece that became the only horror film to win the Oscar for Best Picture, and become the stuff of our darkest nightmares.

The Silence of the Lambs (U.S.A.)
Released: February 14, 1991
Director: Jonathan Demme
Screenplay: Ted Tally (based on the 1988 novel of the same name by Thomas Harris)

Tagline: "To enter the mind of a killer, she must challenge the mind of a madman. May the Silence be broken"

Cast:
Jodie Foster as Clarice Starling
Anthony Hopkins as Dr. Hannibal Lecter
Scott Glenn as Jack Crawford
Ted Levine as Jame "Buffalo Bill" Gumb
Anthony Heald as Dr. Frederick Chilton

The second adaptation of a novel by Thomas Harris featuring Hannibal Lecter, following Michael Mann's Manhunter (1986), The Silence of the Lambs (1991) replaced clinical coldness with visceral excess in a story that follows an FBI agent-in-training, Clarice Starling, after she is recruited by her section head Jack Crawford to interview the incarcerated serial killer Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter in the hopes that the madman and former psychiatrist will provide useful information about a current investigation, the hunt for another serial killer nicknamed "Buffalo Bill."

As much as the film is about Clarice's hunt for Buffalo Bill, a plot thread heightened by a "ticking clock" in the form of a U.S. senator's daughter being kidnapped by the madman and Lecter's assessment that Bill is undergoing some sort of "sexual metamorphoses," it is also about Clarice's search her own identity. In this quest, she is torn between two father figures, Lecter and Crawford, both of them vying to substitute for the law-enforcement father she lost to a violent crime in childhood. This quest of self-discovery is mirrored by the twisted and delusional Buffalo Bill, who must choose his own destiny as well: whether to remain male, as he was biologically born, or to become female, as he feels is his true gender, psychologically speaking.

Clairce is ambitious, sincere in her training, and striving to fit into the male-dominated, macho world of the FBI, yet Foster plays the role with a restrained take, which plays off perfectly against Hopkins's mannered portrayal of the cultured serial killer. Both of Clarice's mentors "use" her for their own personal agendas--Crawford to experiment with Lecter, Lecter to gain small tastes of freedom in exchange for his aid on the Buffalo Bill case, and yet it is Lecter, despite the fact that he is clearly a monster, who is far more open about his set of desires and "befriends" Clarice. It's part what makes the character dynamic between Clarice and Lecter so complex and engrossing for the viewer to watch. At the same time that the cannibalistic doctor is ruthlessly digging into Clarice's psyche, he is also treating her more honestly and equitably than her "other father," giving good counsel about the Buffalo Bill case and not stooping to Crawford's games.

"You know, for a second date, I'd love to have you for dinner"

While Clarice determines if she will be the child of the slick Jack Crawford or the monstrous but somehow sincere Hannibal Lecter, or if she will stand independent and on her own, Buffalo Bill is hunting for identity in all too different, sinister manner. Since he believes identity hinges on his skin, not his soul, he believes that if he "wear" the skin of a woman, he will be perceived as one. Simple as that. This shallow definition of the self drives Bill's actions, all of which end up being a sham that cannot hide his internal ugliness. Certain readings of the film suggest that Bill is a self-loathing homosexual who, by transforming, hopes to eradicate his homosexuality. By becoming a woman, he hopes that his desire for sexual intercourse with men will be "deemed natural" by society at large.

As can be seen, there are complex themes and relationships at work in the film, shifting under the surface, all wrapped up in the thrilling and suspenseful hunt for Buffalo Bill. It's all a complicated puzzle, a confusing maze, that Clarice and the audience must navigate together. This is how director Jonathan Demme draws you into the world of the characters, staging a preponderance of tracking shots throughout the film that suggest a journey through a labyrinth. Oftentimes, the camera is positioned behind Clarice and it follows her path, cornering and bobbing to keep track of her progress. The audience literally moves with her. Spectatorship is not an option here. This is a film that is mean to be viewed actively. Take the opening sequence, for example, in which this partnered viewing aesthetic is set up as the camera tracks Clarice jogging through the woods near Quantico. When she is summoned to Crawford's office, the camera adopts the same pose: following her through the bureaucratic maze of the building interior. 

These kinds of sequences are chilling. The claustrophobia is not just seen, it is felt and heard as well. In the film's anxious denouement, the maze imagery recurs again as Clarice, finally in sight of her prey, descends into Buffalo Bill's basement of horrors. Again, the camera takes up a perspective behind her as she countenances twists and turns in her hunt for the killer, who is also moving from room to room. This style of vertigo-producing composition not only suggests the confusion, frustration, and panic associated with mazes and puzzles, but also performs the important work of keeping crucial positional information hidden from the audience at the same time Clarice is denied it. The audience gazes over Clarice's shoulder, attempting to make out details, to "see" the killer hidden amongst the shadows and the creepy clutter, just as she does. The angle makes the viewer not only sympathize with her task, but also experience her fear, too. 

"Come on Bill, we're playing cops and robbers, not hide and seek, dammit"

But of course, the film's true gem comes in the form of Anthony Hopkins and his Academy Award winning turn as the psychopathic psychiatrist. Totaling only 16 minutes of screen time, the shortest ever to secure a Best Actor Oscar, there is nothing subtle about Hopkins's portrayal--he himself described his voice as a combination of Truman Capote and Katharine Hepburn--and yet with so little screen time, he dominates the movie. Hopkins plays Lecter brilliantly, like a lion quietly waiting for the right moment to pounce. This is someone to never ever, ever turn your back on. The audience's fear of Hannibal is cleverly amped by the writing and direction as well: the extreme security arrangements around him and the weariness of his gaolers all combine to tell us that this is a man to be feared above all others.

Hannibal lurks in the shadows, makes designs for his own freedom, and makes the viewer shrink back, twitching and shifting, at those wide, hungry eyes. And yet, he is constantly pushing Clarice, and thus the audience, to do the same, to see-- to notice what is right in front of her. This connects to what many viewers feel is the central social commentary in Silence of the Lambs. Throughout the film, many images involve the Gulf War, military-issue night-vision goggles, and the United States flag. These symbols of America appear several times, mostly in association with Buffalo Bill and his home. At one point, a poster is seen that reads "America: Open Your Eyes." What the surfeit of American patriotic symbolism seems to suggest to some is that while America is focused on "exterior" threats like Saddam Hussein in Iraq, deeper threats such as Buffalo Bill are emerging domestically. The Cold War, Desert Storm, and other "conflicts" have taken attention away from the poor, and from the crumbling infrastructure itself, especially in the Red State America depicted in the film. The result is that a deep sickness has blossomed in our very back yards.

Perhaps this is what makes Lecter so terrifying and so iconic in the realm of horror and pop culture in general. He is the monster formed when we look away, a vicious superhero of a villain who dares us to come close, to understand, and then drowns us. The Silence of the Lambs was the film that serial killers the must have accessory for mainstream-crossover horror movies of the 1990's. The sexual fission between the two leads led to a number of big-budget dark thriller/horror films featuring a quasi-supernatural killer with a special relationship to his profiler, but the relationship between Lecter and Sterling is more complex than any of these imitators. Of all the men in the movie, Lecter is the only one to treat Clarice with genuine respect and comes to see her as more than a means to an end. They touch just once, his finger touching hers when she hands him a report, and the moment carries a disturbing sexual charge. At its twisted heart, The Silence of the Lambs could be read as a love story, but when this subtext became text in the subsequent Hannibal (2000), it was drained of its power.

"You know, I do believe I could just eat you up"

The Silence of the Lambs is a beautiful film, well-crafted, intelligent, and deeply disturbing., being quite shocking at times. Along with Hopkins as Lecter, Ted Levine's performance as Buffalo Bill is one of the scariest and most realistic to grace the silver screen. Everything he does, each quirk and mannerism, and even the way he talks, makes you uneasy. And the scenes of bleak psychological warfare between Clarice and Hannibal have become legendary, as has the film itself for being the only horror film to not only win the Academy Award for Best Picture, but for being one of only three films to win in the Big Five categories (Picture, Actor, Actress, Screenplay, Director), the other two being It Happened One Night (1934) and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975). It's an impressive feat, considering that the only other horror film to have even been nominated for Best Picture was The Exorcist (1973), which lost to The Sting (1973). 

Some have argued that The Silence of the Lambs is more dark thriller than horror because of its reliance on technology, psychology, and DNA to track down a serial killer. I've never seen the logic in that camp. The film's dark tone, eerie tracking shots, sinister and twisted storyline, and Hopkins's portrayal have always solidified the film as horror to me. Hannibal Lecter was brought to life by this film as one of the most unique horror villains of all time. Urbane, witty, and cunning, he is perhaps the most civil and charming boogeyman in horror…that is, until he rips out your tongue for breakfast.

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

5-Totally Terrifying

4-Crazy Creepy

3-Fairly Frightening

2-Slightly Scary

1-Hardly Horror

My Bloody Valentine (1981 & 2009)

Every once in a long while, a remake will succeed on certain fronts where the source material did not. Even if this isn't the case (see the remakes of The Fog (2005), Prom Night (2008), A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), etc.) sometimes reboots of childhood favorites or horror classics remind the audience of how incredible the story was when it was told the first time. In that case, you could call the remake successful, as it drives fans old and new back to the beginning. This is the paradoxical nature of the remake--even the worst of the lot may prove fruitful.

Of course this rule doesn't apply to all media...

Look at the remake of The Wicker Man (2006), starring Nicolas Cage. It was nauseating garbage, but it did make fans of the genre yearn for Robin Hardy's 1973 original, and a lot of newer fans sought the first version out to wash the bad taste of the remake out of their mouths. Much like a lot of horror fans did after the abominably lackluster When a Stranger Calls (2006), which had none of the taut tension and tight filmmaking that was delivered in 1979. 

Of course, some remakes will work for all the wrong reasons. When I first heard about My Bloody Valentine 3D (2009), I immediately face-palmed to save myself time later. At night I could hear the original whispering to me in the dark, "remember me, remember me," imploring me to cleanse myself upon returning from the theater. It turned out that I was, much like most people on Valentine's Day, quite wrong. Throwback nods, new twists to the story, and a solid cast made My Bloody Valentine 3D one of the more enjoyable re-imaginings in recent years while still inspiring a visit to the classic tale of a miner gone mad and a town in terror.

My Bloody Valentine (Canada)
Released: February 11, 1981
Director: George Mihalka
Screenplay: John Beaird (story by Stephen Miller)

Tagline: "There's more than one way to lose your heart"

Cast:
Paul Kelman as Jesse 'T.J." Hanniger
Lori Hallier as Sarah
Neil Affleck as Axel Palmer
Don Francks as Chief Jake Newby
Keith Knight as Hollis
Peter Cowper as Harry Warden/The Miner

The residents of the coal-mining town Valentine's Bluff gear up for their first Valentine's Day Party in over 20 years--the result of a threat made by deranged miner-murderer Harry Warden, who killed two supervisors after they neglected their duties and inadvertently caused a cave-in that trapped Warden and several others--whom Warden was forced to eat. Now locked up in an asylum, the town elders have judged it safe again to reconvene the town's holiday traditions. But when the mayor starts receiving grisly packages, is anyone safe? Has the legendary killer escaped? And will the youth of the Bluff succeed in their hunt for a good party?

My Bloody Valentine (1981) ticks off all of the slasher boxes--a calendar killer with a signature weapon (a miner's pick axe), killer POV shots (with the mandatory heavy breathing), and obnoxious teens crying out to be sliced and diced. Despite surprisingly high production values and the EC Comics feel to the film, My Bloody Valentine was met with neither a wealth of critical acclaim or staggering box office returns. It came and went largely unheeded, given that it was 1981 and the slasher sub-genre had now become the norm in horror. Halloween (1978), Friday the 13th (1980), Terror Train (1980), Prom Night (1980), He Knows You're Alone (1980), Silent Scream (1980), and their sequels were already dominating screens, and so My Bloody Valentine quickly became a victim of oversight.

Because of the success of the remake, however, the original film soon began to stock Walmart bargain bins and spark new conversation among genre fans. People began to recognize it as a treasure swept under the rug. The story is relatively cookie-cutter. It's all about vengeance, the stuff of all great slashers, and the creepy antagonist remains in control of the situation the entire time. It even comes with its own crypt-keeper, the gloriously doom-ridden bartender who tells one of his clients to "Beware what you make fun of, you little asshole!" and owes a nod to the "Poetic Justice" segment of Tales from the Crypt (1972), although British horror has rarely approached this film's delight in gleeful mayhem.

"You know, I really 'dig" you--be my Valentine?"

The vintage graininess of the film is enjoyable, and most of the onscreen performances are strong, which makes it easy to invest in the bulk of the focal characters, despite the horribly cliched love triangle that exists between T.J., Sarah, and Axel. The film is not without fault, but the not-quite-campy but still wink-at-the-audience atmosphere makes for a genre entry that has genuine longevity, even if the potential wasn't realized at the onset. 

The slasher has always been a magpie sub-genre, but My Bloody Valentine selects only the choicest cuts for its "greatest hits" murder scenes and serves them up with a certain proud flourish. A skewered couple, a boiled face, and a nail gun to the head all accompany the fatal pickaxe injuries, as well as two of the most memorable kills in the world of horror: an impalement on a shower faucet and a body found in a tumble-dryer. Meanwhile, the location shooting at the mine and in the town adds that grubby reminder of dead-end industry that strikes a minor chord offset by the film's exuberant ghoulishness. The setting is one of the strongest elements of the film, a welcome break from the slasher's usual stomping ground of campsite, suburb, dorm room, or high school. 

The atmospheric cinematography, imaginative camera angles, and art-film lightning might seem somewhat excessively precious for a film that boasts lines like "We were having a party and Harry Warden started killing everybody!", but the cornball dialogue only adds to the fun of the film. My Bloody Valentine shows a refreshing lack of cynicism by acknowledging that we are in on the joke, something that many feel cannot be said for the 3D remake. 

"Look, there go our careers"

If someone tries to tell you that Avatar (2009) ushered in the new wave of 3D mania, ignore them. In all actuality, it was My Bloody Valentine 3D that got both people in the industry and filmgoers alike talking up the possibilities of current 3D technology. Genre fans in particular went nuts over the effects--the film opened to a $21 million dollar weekend and raked in $100 million dollars worldwide by the end of its run--and word of mouth really helped the film boom within the horror community. It also helped that director Patrick Lussier didn't just rely on the 3D to carry the film. He took everything that worked from the original and built on it to establish a winning formula.

My Bloody Valentine 3D (Canada/U.S.A.)

Released: January 16, 2009

Director: Patrick Lussier

Screenplay: Todd Farmer & Zane Smith (based on the original screenplay and story)

Tagline: "He's gonna break your heart"

Cast:

Jensen Ackles as Tom Hanniger

Jaime King as Sarah Palmer

Kerr Smith as Axel Palmer

Betsy Rue as Irene

Megan Boone as Megan

Tom Atkins as Sheriff Jim Burke

The My Bloody Valentine 3D tale remains largely unchanged from the original--a group of five miners in a small coal town (now changed to Harmony), are killed in a collapse accidentally caused by the mine owner's son Tom, played by Supernatural's (2005-preset) Jensen Ackles. The only survivor is Harry Warden, who falls into a coma for a year, after which he wakes up and finds that he has incredible strength (because okay), a thirst for blood, and, as fate would have it, no security guards. As such, this savage beast of a man turns what appears to be an entire hospital of staff and patients into dismembered and disemboweled bodies leaving the policemen who (finally) arrive on scene with the keen observance, "Guess he woke up." 

Harry makes his way back to the mines, where a group of teenagers are partying--because in mining towns, dinner and a movie on Valentine's Day isn't redneck enough--and somehow dons his original gas mask and pickaxe to brutalize the teens. Three survive, Tom, his paramour Sarah, and their friend Axel. Warden is supposedly shot and killed, but Tom leaves town anyway, because why would you want to stay there? But, ten years later, Tom's father has died, so he has to return to Harmony to sell the mine, and that's when the calm of the last decade is shattered and strange things start to happen. And by strange things I mean people getting hacked in half by a man who, if he's not Harry Warden, is dressed in his favorite outfit. Is it Warden? It is Tom? Is it someone else? What's great about My Bloody Valentine 3D is that we don't know, but we really, really want to know.

The performances are more than acceptable here, and the film caters to all different kinds of genre fans with some intriguing side plots and gratifying gore. The script is well manicured, offering little in the way of outright hokeyness and virtually zero downtime, which is both important and impressive given how the story shifts and depends on gaps in time. Even though the story speeds along at a startling rate, there's a surprising amount of character development at work. We know who we're rooting for, and who we despise, and yet designs on the true identity of the killer are relatively difficult to draw, reaffirming the strength of the writing and making for meaningful suspense. 

"Nope! That's WAY too kinky for me"

Lussier gifted horror fans with a faithful yet unique update with My Bloody Valentine 3D. Though I don't know that it transcends the original, I definitely think it stands up to the 1981 cult classic, and if noting else makes for a decent double feature annual treat come February. It's also hard to deny that it delivers on the aesthetic level while toying with audience emotion in regards to the despicable behavior of a certain few characters. Identical in some ways, different in others, I think that the preference between the 1981 original and the 2009 adaptation depends on one's mood. Vintage, quality gem? Or polished, contemporary vision? Either path is rewarding, each one memorable and scintillating. And isn't that how Valentine's Day is supposed to be, after all?

My Bloody Valentine (1981)

5-Totally Terrifying

4-Crazy Creepy

3-Fairly Frightening

2-Slightly Scary

1-Hardly Horror

My Bloody Valentine 3D (2009)

5-Totally Terrifying

4-Crazy Creepy

3-Fairly Frightening

2-Slightly Scary

1-Hardly Horror