Bat People, Plural?

Mike: Hey, Max, do you want to watch a B-Movie tonight?

Max: Sure that sounds cool!  What did you want to watch, something like "Frogs"?

Mike: Hey! Frogs is an awesome movie.  I was thinking something along the lines of The Bat People.  You interested?

Max: Sure.  I mean I haven't heard of it, but it can't be worse than Frogs!

Mike: Stop hatin' on--you know--just roll the damn film!

Mike: The Bat People... You know, I tried to come up with something witty for an introduction to this film, something about love and a reimagining of the Universal Picture's Wolfman story, but I can't.  The Bat People (should be titled "The Bat Person.") is a failure of a horror film that tries to be trippy and suspenseful, but only induces the viewer into the same painful headache our lead character, Johnny, seems to fall under after being bitten by a bat in a cave.  But, I'm jumping ahead here.  Before Johnny even makes it to the cave he seems to hear things, and have strange nightmares that involve bats, as if he has ALWAYS been connected to them from the very beginning.  He and his wife, Cathy, are on a second honeymoon and decide to join a cave tour group.  While they’re in the caves Cathy’s “primal urges” become ignited (being in caves gets this girl excited? Count me in!), and she leads Johnny in the opposite direction of the tour group, through the winding cave system, until she falls into this pit of maggots and worms.  It’s here that Johnny is bitten by a bat, and his misfortunes begin.    

Max: Yeah, I really thought everything in the first ten to fifteen minutes or so was rather entertaining...but just about the time that Johnny goes for his first anti-rabies appointment, the whole film starts to drag like a long string of turd.  Like a typical B-snoozer, this movie makes a contract promising "Bat People", then delivers little more than a very dysfunctional vacation. The repetition of the name Johnny is also super irritating.  I think if we had taken a drink for every time Karen helplessly screams "Johnny!" we would both be really shitfaced by now.

Mike: I think we should have a second viewing of this film, and any other that we think we would enjoy more or have more fun with while drunk, and follow up that viewing with an inebriated review.  I'm not sure if drugs or booze would have made Cathy's insistent calling of Johnny's name any more enjoyable or less annoying.  I mean, it's like watching the movie The Room and everyone addressing everyone, "Oh, hi, Johnny."  "Oh, hi, Cathy."  I get that the director wanted to make this a psychedelic film with all of the twisting camera shots and weird zooms, but the film just doesn't deliver on much of anything.  Well, there were the Sergeant and Hobo that made me smile.

Max: That’s true, you raise a good point. The minor characters were certainly entertaining (which I often find is the case in throw-away movies like this).  I particularly liked the Sheriff, who does a lot of "wondering" in his really bad drawl of an accent. He smokes a cigarette with a long cigarette holder and has a lot of goofy one liners…but honestly...even the hilariously bad dialogue in this movie can't save it, because there is just nothing at all happening.  Take that car chase scene, for example.  The sheriff probably chases Johnny in his car for the better part of five minutes at least, wouldn't you say? He's still got the cigarette holder in his mouth while he radios for back-up which is funny, but then again, what is the real purpose of this enormous chase scene?  So much of the "action" in this flick is pure filler.

Mike: The best one-liner came from the Hobo, who Johnny meets in an empty barn after escaping from the very hospital he checked himself into.  The hobo says, "I drink from the bottom of the bottle," when he shares his long tirade of a soliloquy, and I feel like this film does just that; except, at the bottom of the bottle is the backwash and spit from anyone else who has taken a swig.  I know that's not what the line means, and I think, in the right context and in the right film, it could be a very good line.  The chase scene...quite pointless, but it was a lot of fun.  I love that Johnny steals an old ambulance (reminds me of Echo 1 from Ghost Busters), and somehow manages to out-race the sheriff in his Chevy Chevelle.

Max: I remember you commenting via text that Johnny crashed the Echo 1, that was funny.

Mike: Ha-ha-ha-ha.  Yeah, I was sad to see the old girl go down like that.

Max: I was sad to waste two hours of my life on this fucking movie.

  

Mike: Was it two hours long?

Max: I'm not sure let's check IMDB.

Max: Let’s see, according to IMDB (where it has a 2.1 rating folks), The Bat People is 95 minutes.

Mike: So, there are people out there willing to give this a 2.1?  What were they comparing this film to?  I would say that I'd like to know, but really, I don't want to.

Max: I think they were comparing it to Rattlers, a movie about killer snakes where the snakes don't kill anyone.  Rattlers is actually worse than this movie.  Maybe one of the only titles I can think of off-hand.

Max: Or Frogs!!!

Max: Same deal as Rattlers.

Max: Some friends and I did a viewing of Frogs and it did not deliver on said Frogs, whatsoever!!!

Mike: But, I liked Frogs, and they ACTUALLY killed people...unlike Rattlers.  The Bat People is NOTHING like Frogs.  Don't be hatin' on Frogs, less ye be wanting hell fire rained upon yo' head.

Max: There are some aspects of Frogs that I enjoyed, but you are wrong, Mike.  The Frogs in that movie don't kill anyone! It's all other reptiles that do the killing, so the title, like Rattlers and Bat People, is misleading!  I will admit, Frogs is not necessarily worse than The Bat People, but you can go ahead and rain your fire because there is no way I'm not hatin’ on that piece of shit.

Mike: The Frogs TOTALLY kill the old guy at the end of the film.  He's locked up in his mansion; his family has gone to the lake to get on a boat... Wait, are we writing a review of Frogs or of Bat People?

Max: Okay yes, the frogs do totally kill the old guy, which somewhat redeems a lot of the crap we are otherwise subjected to throughout the film.  And by crap, I mean murders not committed by killer frogs.  To tie this back here, I think that these movies relate to your point about backwash, Mike.  For instance, by the time we get to the end of the Bat People, Johnny has returned to the caves. Do you know WHY that is? I couldn't really bare to follow the movie at this point.  Anyway in the caves he finally transforms into a "bat person", but like flat beer at the bottom of a bottle, it's too little, too late.

Mike: I don't think flat beer is ever too little too late. It's more like, "Ew, gross, I can't believe there's so much of it."  Who really wants to drink that little bit of backwash no matter how much is in there?  Not me.  However, Johnny returns to the caves because...ummm...that's where bats naturally live?  I'm not sure.  When he returns to the caves we FINALLY get to see his bat make-up in its entirety, which looks more like a bat version of the original Universal Picture's Wolfman get-up.  I mean, I guess it would have looked cool if this movie had been made in the 1950's when atomic man-monster movies were being made and shot in black and white, but for a 70's film the creature make-up looked bad.  Hell, I prefer the rubber bear suit in Prophecy (the original film, and not the Christopher Walken one everyone seems to chime about whenever I mention this title), to the crap-tastic make-up job done in Bat People.  I will give the film this much: the Bat-Person killed everyone...except for the sheriff (whom everyone calls him "sergeant") when he gets bitten alive by a swarm of bats.  Now, the ending is a complete mystery to me, and maybe you can help clear things up, Max.  At the beginning of the film Johnny hears the bats before he gets bitten, and once he has received the fatal bat bite he hears them all the time.  Cathy ends up having sex with her husband Johnny, and suddenly can hear the bats too.  So why does the sheriff blow his brains out in the car?

Max: I'm not sure I even understand the question. What?

Mike: Exactly.

Mike: That's how the movie ends, and I don't know why?

Max: Me neither. I thought the bats biting the sheriff (sergeant) all over looked sort of cool...but honestly, like you said, why didn't The Bat Person, Johnny, just kill him?  After the sheriff blows his brains out, I'm not sure I even paid attention to the rest.  I guess Cathy and Johnny live happily as bat people in the caves till the end of time?  What actually happened, do you remember?

Mike: She walks to the caves and they play that weird creepy/happy/sad song from the beginning of the film (the song about coming home).  It seemed that she was controlling the bats with her mind, or that is what I thought.  It looked cool when they were splattering all over his windshield, but then it got weird.  Did he not want them to eat him alive or was it that he feared that he'd become a Bat Person too?  I guess we now know why this movie is called Bat People, because in the end there are at least two of them...though, the entire film follows one guy you're not even sure if he really is a bat person or just whacked out on meds.

Max: That is so true.  Johnny for the most part, just behaves like your neighborhood speed freak. And while that's certainly very funny, it's not necessarily any indication that he is, in fact, a bat person.

Mike: I guess they try to get us to think Johnny is tripping, because all of the supporting characters seem to think he is.  We watch his hands transform into monster-bat hands, I think, twice, maybe just once.  Not enough to make us think he really IS a bat person, that's for sure.

Max: Yeah the bat hands I actually thought looked kind of alright.  Yet, the final reveal of his bat face was underwhelming as we've said. Maybe it would have been better to leave it kind of ambiguous?  Of course "better" in the case of a movie like this is kind of relative isn't it? Ha!

Mike: Ha-ha-ha.  Yeah, Right.

Max: Well, with that in mind folks, it's time to weigh in with our bloody nubs of fate.  From my end of the balcony, I am going to have to give this movie two Bloody Nubs down.  Unless you're like me and you truly enjoy wasting your life in front of the TV watching endless horror crap like this, there is really no reason to ever see it.  This movie is a pile of hot garbage. View at your own risk.

Max: And yes, I'm often the "nice" one. This is the first time I've given nubs down to anything.

Mike: It's not the only time I've seen your nubs down, Max.  Remember that time I caught you in the theater watching that stag film when you thought I was out?  The look on your face was priceless, but the look of disgusted horror I had across my face then is the same I have now while watching this steaming load of turd.  I give The Bat People two Bloody Nubs down, because I find my will to go on has drained...much like when I caught you with your You-know-whats around your You-know-where.

Max: Thanks…thanks for mentioning the stag film.

                            **Insert Trailer for Movie Here**

Mike:  We're sorry that we can't show you a cool vintage trailer for this film, but no one has posted one on YouTube.  It's THAT bad...

Two Twisted Tales Inspired by Poe!

Mike: "Lo! 'tis a gala night; Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight in veils, and drowned in tears..."

Max: Hey whatcha readin from?

Mike: Just reading some Edgar Allen Poe.  Getting myself in the gothic mood for tonight's movie.

  

Max: Aww you don't say.  I was just reading some Poe myself in a sepulchre by the sea.  That's where I usually go to read ya know?  With this chick named Annabell Lee.  Anyway, what's the name of our gothic movie tonight?

Mike: Uh, okay.  Anyway, there just so happens to be an Annabel in one of the stories.  We're watching Two Evil Eyes.

Max: That's the movie with the hypnotized dead guy, and the black cat, right?

Mike: Hells yeah it is!  I even brought in a black cat that I had found rummaging through the dumpster outside our theater.  Pretty cool right?

Max: Yeah look at him, he is pretty neat, isn't he?  Hey, wait a minute, I don't think he likes me...

Mike: He has a little white spot just below his chin.  Here.  Take a closer look.  I think it's a message just for you.

Max: Oh really?  Lemme see that... Actually you know what, that's alright.  I don't think I really want to see what the message is....let's just roll the film!

Max: In "Two Evil Eyes", two of the world's foremost horror directors, George Romero and Dario Argento, pay homage to the original American master of horror literature, none other than Edgar Allan Poe.  Though many adaptations of Poe's work have made it to the screen before (remember all of those Roger Corman/Vincent Price collaborations from the 1960's?), Romero and Argento's 1990 effort is a little different since they decided to shoot two very modernized stories.  In "The Facts in the Case of Mr. Valdemar" (Romero) an old wealthy man is dying while his physician and his trophy wife attempt to hypnotize him out of his fortune.  In "The Black Cat" (Argento) a noted crime photographer becomes convinced that there is something evil about his girlfriend's newly acquired feline.  Eventually he'll stop at nothing to destroy the creature, whether it's at the expense of his relationship or eventually his sanity.   These two segments, which play back to back, are complimented by an opening sequence which takes a look at Poe's grave, as well as his ancestral home in Baltimore.  I think that this sort of opening, laced in gothic mystery, sets kind of a nice tone for the two vignettes which are about to follow.  Wouldn't you say so Mike?

Mike: I loved the old Corman/Price collaborations, and for what it is worth, they are still some of my favorite Poe adaptations.  What Romero and Argento have is the modern-day freedom to take Poe’s work deeper into the sickly darkness where Corman and Price could not go in their time. "Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."  Those words on the plaque shown in the opening say it all.  If Poe is the man who dared to dream these terrifying dreams, then Romero and Argento are the ones to bring life to Poe's nightmarish world.  The opening, to some, may seem cheesy (there's a brief voice over talking about the genius of Poe), but I feel serves its purpose in unsettling the audience; I mean, who would have thought that the rest of the film would be so frightening when there's an elementary-film-reel quality to the very beginning? 

Max: I agree with your description of the elementary film reel.  Even though it is super nerdy and cheesy, I think it sets up a childhood expectation that we're about to be told some scary stories.  Take our first one, the Case of Mr. Valdemar, for example: kind of a slow build as we see Jessica (Adrienne Barbeau) going about her day to day gold digging.  "Is that an accusation Mr. Pike?" she asks the manager of her husband's estate.  He's implying, of course, that she’s stealing from the old decaying codger, but of course, poor old Mr. Pike doesn't know the half of it.  That's because back at the estate, beautiful Jessica has Valdemar strapped down like a half corpse in the bed.  The doctor overseeing him is Jessica's long lost flame, and they’re determined to hypnotize this millionaire into giving them all his money.

Mike: Romero's film is heavy with the theme of money. "That's all anyone ever cares about in the end...money."  The characters are obsessed with it, even the bed ridden Valdemar—through statements given by his doubting accountant—would rather take his money to the grave than give any over to his young "bitch of a wife," Jessica.  I think Tom Atkins' character (the detective at the end of the film) has the best line in the movie, "Sick stuff always turns out to be rich people," which sums up the horrors that are revealed once Valdemar dies while stuck in hypnosis.  Max, every time we watch this movie I find something new that I enjoy (the theme of money which we have never really talked about before), but I also always find something that annoys me.  How is it that a dead man, particularly one who has been stuffed in a freezer, communicates to the outside world without moving his lips?

Mike: So, I get that they thought he had died (the machines in his room flat-lined), and they put him in the freezer to preserve/hide his body (the stipulation to getting the money, established by the accountant, is that Valdemar needed to live the entire three weeks while the paper work went through), but what I don't understand is how he was able to still communicate to them?  Whenever Robert (the doctor) put Valdemar under hypnosis, he had to move his lips in order to repeat the suggestions Robert feeds him. At what point in the film is it mentioned that you can still communicate to the living—while being dead—without the use of one’s mouth?  I have a problem with this lack of an explanation, though the voice that comes from the dead person is freaking awesome and spooky.

Max: I agree, it's so strange...the only explanation I can think of is that once they put his "dead" body in the freezer, he is able to open up some form of communication through his brain.  It's not really very plausible, yet at the same time, those scenes where he's lying in the freezer are some of the most poignant and disturbing to me.  His corpse looks so iced over and at the same time so rotted through (thanks to Tom Savini, no doubt).  Also, that line of his, which he keeps repeating, "There are others—many, many others looking at me. Watching me."  That is really quite a disturbing thing for a hypnotized corpse to say (through the brain or otherwise.)  I would be thoroughly creeped out and it's no surprise to me that Jessica eventually reacted the way she did by shooting him in the head.

Mike: I didn't get that part either.  So, was he really dead?  He asks "Wake me.  Please wake me," as if he's really saying that he's in this deep vegetative state, but when Jessica shoots him The Others use his dead body to move about in our world.  Couldn't they have used his body beforehand? I agree that the scenes with him in the freezer and the ones where he finally starts walking around as a flesh-melting corpse are the scariest by far.  However, there seems to be little in the way of explaining how things work in Romero's world.  Chalk it up to being a short film and not enough time allotted for explanation.  I have the same problem with Argento's The Black Cat.  I just felt that there were things that needed clarification, and might have gotten it if the film was allowed to be longer.  What's your take?

Max: Yes, I do feel similarly, at least in the case of Romero's Mr. Valdemar.  There are some great atmospheric moments, but ultimately, I don't think he ties up the loose ends.  On the other hand, where Argento's "The Black Cat" is concerned, this is a film in which I enter not expecting the plot to make very much sense.  This is because, typically, Argento doesn't really do "plot", he tells a story the way he wants to tell it. The funny thing to me about "The Black Cat", however, is that for an Argento film, it actually does happen to follow a rather linear story line.  I also think Argento made a lot of attempts to incorporate Poe's world into this piece.  This begins with the POV shot of the swinging pendulum through the girl's body at the beginning. Though the story may draw the most from the tale of the black cat itself, the photographer, aptly named Usher (Harvey Keitel) walls up his girlfriend and eventually leads the cops to her in a manner reminiscent of the Tell Tale Heart.  Ultimately, the spirit of Poe rings a little truer in this piece to me.  Even though I liked the theme of money and greed in Valdemar, I feel like that was more Romero's political objective and not reflective of a true Poe story.  All that being said though, both of these could stand to be longer.

Mike: I disagree that Argento isn't about "plot," because of films like Deep Red and Suspiria where there is a plot, albeit a bit loose in some parts, but a strong linear line that carries you from point A to point Z with lots of interesting back roads along the way.  I love the opening sequence to The Black Cat.  Harvey Keitel is, well, the most underappreciated actor of his time.  He gets type-cast as this surly, stone-edged, take-no-shit--from-anyone kind of guy, but he does it so damn well.  I know I'll get some flak for this, but in terms of getting better with age, I would prefer watching Harvey Keitel over Al Pacino any day.  Usher (Keitel) is a great character, and the perfect opposite of Annabel (Madeleine Potter) who comes off as a flaky, came-from-a-commune, hippie.  I really feel that the Pit and Pendulum reference, and the other Poe tidbits that Argento drops throughout his segment of the film, creates the perfect dark, gothic atmosphere that is the essence of Poe.

Max: I agree with your point about the interaction between Keitel as Usher and Madeline Potter as Annabel.  Like many characters in Keitel's repertoire (think Bad Lieutenant, here) Usher is basically cracking up mentally throughout the film.  If he was any more cracked, you could call him a crack head! 

Mike: Booooooo!

Max: Take that kitchen scene for example.  "ITS A FUCKING CAT! MEOW! MEOW!"  I think that's probably the greatest line in the whole film for me.  Annabel on the other hand does seem a little "from a commune", as you mentioned, but I think that hippie quality you speak of is actually masking something darker.  When Usher looks at her he begins to see a witch.  That's evident as he watches her doing her Buddhist chant in front of the mirror.  Once the cat and her find one another, he begins to see her as someone other than his girlfriend.  She's more like a weird woman who's out to get him.  This comes into play in the dream sequence that he has as well.  Annabel has mentioned how in pagan times, witches kept familiars, and in this medieval nightmare, Usher imposes her and the cat over this historical backdrop and begins to view it as reality.

Mike: Annabel is such an insensitive character. I'm sure our animal lovers out there are going to string me up, and drop me onto a sharp pike that runs right through me and out my mouth, but I didn't understand why Annabel was so uncaring to Usher when the cat (a stray that she brought in off the streets) was being overly aggressive towards Usher right from the beginning.  Am I missing something here?  The cat was more important to her than her relationship with Usher?  Clearly by her actions alone suggests that things were probably a bit rocky between them (Usher is a bit of a boozer), but I give credit to Usher for at least trying to accept the cat in the house.  It's not his fault that the damn cat was, from the start, hell-bent on driving him insane.  I just couldn't sympathize with Annabel, and, like Usher, felt no remorse for what happens to her and that Goddamn cat.

Max: Hah.  I agree.

Mike: Are we wrong to think that?  I think that's the one flaw I see in this film.

Max: Well...I don't think we were wrong to think it, necessarily, but I also don't see it as a flaw in the film.  I think in The Black Cat, Argento wants you inside of Usher's mind and seeing things according to his point of view.  If you think about it, a lot of the stuff we see throughout the film, including the swinging pendulum at the beginning, are from his point of view.  In this same light, we see Annabel that way that he does, as cold and calculating as the stray cat.  There are moments we see outside of his point of view, such as when Anabel phones her friend in New York, explaining how her boyfriend has gone mad, but for the most part, we identify with his point of view, even if logically, we know that he's not in his right mind.

Max: I suppose in essence, I see this as a success on the part of Argento.  He ultimately forces you to empathize with his killer.

Mike: I guess you're right.  Sometimes I want to be able to feel some sort of sympathy to the one who gets killed, because I feel like that should be the moral emotion that goes with seeing someone slain, but, like most horror films, that isn't always the case and not often necessary.

Mike: My real qualm with this film is the pacing: at times (the scene where Usher is trying to cover his tracks to make it look like Annabel left him while they were on vacation), seemed to lull.  If I recall correctly, you suggested that we should fast forward through the vacation scene, because you thought it dragged.  I think that this might be one of Argento's flaws in his films (much like Romero's is his blunt social messages), because even in his best work there are scenes that slow the pacing down and don't really add flavor to the movie.  I don't mind slowing a scene down if it gives something to the film by adding intensity, but when it feels like you're sleepwalking through a scene I think that takes away from the full effect the film would have otherwise created.

Max: Yeah I will admit, as much as I'm a fan of this half of the film and favor it to Romero's contribution, I do think that Argento hit some rough spots in his pacing.  The whole cover up/vacation bit is just lame and doesn't do much to move the story forward.  On the other hand, there are other scenes that might seem kind of pointless, which I think work.  Like when Usher dumps the cat in the garbage and is confronted by the priest, or when he's in the graveyard and Tom Savini (the corpse dentist) is being arrested by the cops.  Some of the filler scenes in this movie have severe pacing issues, and some are downright entertaining (even if they are kind of pointless).

Mike: The ending of the movie, to an extent, seemed a bit silly:  Usher has killed the two cops who have discovered the corpse of Annabel, and the fucked-up looking kittens feasting off of her rotting flesh, behind the drywall (a great scene through and through), but what I didn't care for were the neighbors (suddenly interested in Usher and the missing Annabel), and the snot-nosed brat (her student) who just appear for no other reason than to confront Usher.  As if they really had any reason to, except for that student who, without any just cause (he knows her better than her own boyfriend?) thinks Usher did something to her.  What the hell is that all about?  I get that it forces Usher to react rushed and flustered, thus causing him to attempt to climb out the window and accidentally hang himself (fulfilling the prophecy of the white mark on the black cat), but I just couldn't get behind it.  I feel like Usher should have killed the one cop, and then died trying to escape the other.

Max: The fact that the whole entire neighborhood is knocking on Usher's door at the end is, yes, a tad far fetched, that point I'll concede.  I love the prophecy on the black cat and how Usher ends up hanging himself, although having viewed this several times over the years, I do think you are correct that it could have been handled a little more neatly.  What's interesting to me about that last bit, is that the discovery of Annabel inside of the wall, along with those mutant cats (and kittens) really just steals the whole entire show.  I mean the movie could have ended right there, because that's the part that always sticks into my memory.  The whole Tell-Tale Heart conflict Usher is having with the cops, hearing the cat clawing inside of the walls, and then finally the big reveal....that's some straight up macabre stuff right there.  It almost makes me wonder what Edgar Allan Poe would think if he were around to see all these adaptations of his work.  I feel like maybe he would have enjoyed that ending bit...but I guess we'll never know.

Mike: It's the best scene out of both short films, and, like you said, is the one that always sticks out in my mind when I think of Two Evil Eyes.

Max: Well, this concludes another installment of Screams from the Balcony.  The curtain is down, the houselights are up, and now it's time for us both to weigh in with our gruesome bloody nubs.

Max: From my end of the balcony, I give two bloody nubs to this movie.  One for each of the Evil Eyes.  I was thinking about maybe throwing one nub down (on account of pacing issues in both films)...but I still love this one so much that I don't think I'll be able to do that.  One of these nights I'm going to nub something down...but until then, quote the raven, "nevermore."

Mike: It seems to me, in discussions we've had outside of this blog, that we come in to this movie thinking we won't like certain parts, but upon the newest viewing we find things that we enjoy that we didn't notice before.  We also find flaws or missteps that we did not quite catch in earlier viewings.  Yet, you and I, in the end, can't preach how much we enjoy this movie enough.  Our review, because we want to be as honest and true to our readers, has our shared concerns about this film, but whenever I talk to someone about Two Evil Eyes I continue, without hesitation, to recommend it.  So, I am going to give Two Evil Eyes, despite any criticism I have mentioned in the review, two bloody nubs up.

Scare Yourself to Death!

Max: Hey Mike, guess what time it is, dude?

Mike: "Are you ready to party?  It's party time!"

Max: No, we're not watching "Return of the Living Dead." We're actually watching something scary.

Mike: Something scarier than brain-eating-zombies?  I can only think of one movie that... Oh, no.  We're not watching...

Max: You know it, man.  The one movie out there that scares us both TO DEATH.

Mike: Can we leave the house lights on for this movie?

Max: No.

"Madness or sanity?  I don't know which is which." - Jessica.  

Mike: Let's Scare Jessica to Death is an intense psychological, supernatural horror film that thrusts you into a world of madness and terrifying imagery.  The film opens up with our main character, Jessica, sitting in a boat in her nightgown, her head and shoulders slumped, questioning whether or not the events that she has been a part of were really there or just a nightmarish figment of her wild imagination.  What the movie sets out to do is to have you question Jessica’s impression of her reality, and it does so through her interaction with great characters, an amazing score, and incredibly creepy, creative sound editing. 

Max:  This is an interesting point you raise, Mike.  There is definitely a nightmarish quality to Jessica’s “impression of reality”, so much so, that there seems to be death wherever she looks. It had never occurred to me in previous viewings, but this film is completely shrouded in death imagery from the very get go.  I was almost surprised that Jessica, her husband, Duncan and his friend Woody choose to drive a hearse. Early in the film, they stop at cemetery so that Jessica can do some grave rubbings. This appears to make Jessica very happy, however, we get the distinct impression that there is something mental (or perhaps paranormal?) going on in her mind.  She sees a mysterious girl shrouded in white standing nearby, and yet, when the girl disappears, she decides not to alert anyone; her interior voice is saying, "Don't tell them, they'll think you're crazy."

Mike:   I’m going to side step a little, because I want to touch quickly on the introduction to the bandaged up old men of the town; now, I think old people, especially those who look "Nearer, my God, to Thee," are particularly creepy, and the old men in the town were definitely at Death's door step, or had already crossed, because I could not stop thinking how menacing their presence really was. 

Max: The old men in the town definitely look like they are at death's door, as you put it.  Similarly, there is something ghostly about the red headed girl, Emily.  She lurks like a hippie squatter inside the creepy Victorian house and from a cursory introduction, that’s what she appears to be.  However, there is something eternal about the lurking that she does. When Jessica, Woody and Duncan arrive and she makes them chase her, only to jump out and scare them, she seems like an untamed force that's existed in that place forever.  As Emily, herself, says to Woody, she's not going anywhere.  Even Jessica asking Emily to stay seems redundant in a sense because Emily has no intention of leaving.  There's no reason that a young attractive girl like herself would be hiding away in a house like that, not unless she was the original inhabitant. That's what makes the séance scene so interesting.  When Jessica, Duncan and Woody sit down with Emily to raise the dormant spirits within the home, they may be sitting with a non-living person as it is.

Mike:  I feel like the film does a great job of not letting you know whether or not Emily is a spirit among them, or just some hippie squatter who just so happens to coincidentally come and go out of scenes like a ghost.  The movie really has you questioning Jessica's stability, but I'd argue that Jessica isn't insane, and may have never been insane to begin with, just misunderstood.  What I think is interesting is that Emily is the one who seems to know something about Jessica without anyone ever introducing her to any of Jessica’s previous problems.  She gets Jessica to confess about the suddenness of her father's death and how that had a huge impact on her.  Now, it is sometimes said that when a person experiences a traumatic event that connections, channels, etc, open a person's perception to the supernatural world.  It is just my opinion, but I think Jessica could communicate with the dead (possibly her dead father), and everyone around her just thought she had gone loony, because she couldn't handle the strain of losing her dad.  So they send her away to a mental hospital, where she spends several months rehabilitating.  When that girl from the cemetery disappears like a ghost, and when Emily first disappears like a ghost in front of Jessica at the house, she is quick to tell herself that she shouldn't say anything to anyone, because they might think she is crazy.  I think it's a pretty good bet to say that she saw ghosts before and THAT is why she went to a mental hospital.  She's not as insane as the film, on its surface, leads you to believe; rather, you need to look for the clues in the film that suggests that she might be sane, and with a connection to the supernatural.

Max: I really appreciate your take on this film, Mike, because for some reason, I had never quite pieced this together.  I had always seen this as a meditation on the fine line between perception and reality, sanity and insanity. However, while I still think this element is central to the film, I can now see that Jessica is sensitive to messages from beyond the grave.  This is why Jessica doesn't want to tell Duncan when she sees the recently dead body of the antiques dealer from town.  She knows Duncan thinks her gift is merely an illness and the more of these incidents she has (like the mysteriously butchered rodent for example), the less inclined he will be to believe in her mental wellness.

Mike: It took this viewing, among the many that you and I have had of this film, for me to see that underline idea in the movie.  Hell, we haven't even mentioned that this is a vampire flick!  I'm going to go there, and you can follow me if you wish.  Let's Scare Jessica to Death is NOT a typical vampire movie.  You don't even get that it is one until the antique dealer talks about the death of the Bishop family’s daughter and how legend has it that she's a wandering vampire in the region.  There aren't any teeth wounds on the victims, they have scratches and healed gashes that look like they were caused by a knife.  There's no talk of staking or hanging cloves of garlic on doors, or a warning to any character to make sure they have a crucifix on their persons.  I actually enjoy this all the more for it not following the stereo types of the traditional Hollywood vampire (this came from a major studio too, Paramount Pictures).  This film, in regards to not following such mythos, is similar to George Romero's vampire movie Martin; where the Vampire doesn't have fangs or supernatural powers, rather he uses a razor blade to kill his victims.  What is your take on that aspect of this film?

Max: Yes.  The interesting thing about Emily as a vampire is that she's none of the things we're used to in the world of Hammer Horror or Universal Monsters.  Instead, there's just something off about her, something that only Jessica (with her "mental problem" or sensitivity) is able to pick up on.  Consider the scene, when Jessica and Emily are both in the attic and Jessica insists that Emily must be the girl in the creepy Victorian era picture.  "That could be anyone," Emily says dismissively, but Jessica persists by stating that there is a striking similarity between Emily's bright green eyes and the eyes of the girl in the picture.  Much like Romero's Martin was a Vampire in the political sense, Emily is a vampire in the psychological sense.  Whatever she's been doing in that house, and in that town, amongst the old men who bare her strange markings, she's been doing it for some time.  Only when Jessica arrives do we begin to notice the abnormality in all of this, just the way that she does.  Of course, (psychologically speaking) Emily's vampirism still sets up Jessica to look like the perpetrator, every step of the way.  Even the fact that she uses a knife is telling, as it's Jessica's hand we assume is wielding it....at least at first.

Max: Similarly, it's Emily's voice we hear speaking to Jessica, while we might mistake this for Jessica's "hidden voice" it's actually Emily communicating quite directly through the mind.  While Emily might be saying one thing to Jessica with her words, Jessica knows she's really saying another through the power of her thoughts.  I never realized this before, because I just assumed Jessica had a multiple personality disorder.  The truth in this case is so much creepier. Also, if we consider the way that Emily manipulates both Woody and Duncan into her clutches, the evidence is there as well.  After a while she exerts a literal power over the two men, probably in the same way that she controls the men in the village.

Mike: I wonder what the threat women have to Emily.  It seems to me that she can only control men, and if that is the case, then I think this adds an another interesting take on the vampire mythos; she's a vampire who is not interested in the seduction of all sexes, like so many of the Hollywood bi-sexual vampires seem to be, rather she only wants men and feels threatened by other women.

Mike: That would explain the lack of women in the town

Max: The fact that Emily is constantly trying to drown Jessica in the lake would support what you are saying too.  It could be her way of saying that there is only room for one woman in her house (or her town for that matter).  Additionally, there is some psychological significance to this as well, since Emily was rumored to have drowned many years ago.

Mike: Well, another night in the balcony has come to a close (sanity questionably withstanding).  This film rattles my nerves and sends chills up my spine every time I watch it, and with further viewings, I continue to push this movie up my list of All-time Favorite horror films.  I give Let's Scare Jessica to Death two VERY enthusiastic bloody nubs up.

Max: Likewise, Let's Scare Jessica to Death has always managed to leave me full of paranoia and dread.  I realize new layers all the time, which means this film is very re-watchable, (as difficult as re-watching may be, since it's so friggin scary!!!) Two bloody nubs up from me too, (as well as a mysterious facial knife wound.) This is seriously one of the weirdest treasures from the Paramount vault.  Go check it out right now and scare yourself to death!

Seeds of Vengence, Sowed in Blood!

Mike: Max, what are we watching for tonight’s edition of Screams from the Balcony?

Max: Well, Mike, tonight, I have something very special in mind.  *cue the giggling, nursery rhyming kids..*  "Keep away from Pumpkinhead unless you're tired of living...his enemies are mostly dead, he's mean and unforgiving."

Mike: So...we're...watching Shelley Duvall's Fairy Tale Theater?

Max: No, Shelley Duvall don't have what you want...all that woman can do is take you straight to Hell.  Pumpkinhead is the movie I'm talking about!  It's one of my favorite movies ever and it's called Pumpkinhead!

Mike: Pumpkinhead?  I kind of got my heart set on Shelly Duvall.  Are you sure we HAVE to watch Pumpkinhead?

Max: Yes.

Mike: Goddamn you, Max.  Goddamn you!

Max: He already has, Mike!  He already has!

Max:  I think what I really like the most about Pumpkinhead is that it is such a deeply allegorical film.  Although this might seem unlikely, given that it's kind of a silly b-movie, Pumpkinhead addresses a theme that's been visited time and time again, even through Shakespeare's plays and the Bible.  The theme is vengeance, and how the hatred which fuels a person to vengeance will ultimately consume that person.  Just think about Batman.  Does his grief for his parents ever lessen, the more he avenges them by fighting villain after villain?  Of course not.  He just falls deeper into his own personal torment.  The same is true of the protagonist in this movie, Ed Harley (Lance Henriksen), a roadside store clerk who loses his young boy Billy when a group of tourists accidentally run him down with a motorcycle.  Harley seeks vengeance by seeking out the help of an old witch named Hagis.  She raises a demon named Pumpkinhead from a cemetery to avenge Billy's death on the group of unsuspecting "city folk".  But what Harley doesn't realize is that this justice that Pumpkinhead brings won't bring him any peace.  On the contrary, he begins to feel one with the demon, in every act of vengeance it brings, and it begins to drive him mad.  Like the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said, "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."  This famous quotation, in my opinion, sums up Pumpkinhead pretty well.

Mike: Well put.  Your summation of the film is eloquent, thorough, and intelligent.  However, if I may be so bold, the average Joe is not going to be sitting in a darken room, watching this movie, and going, “You know, this reminds me of that Nietzsche quote about not battling a monster unless you want to become one…or whatever.”  Though, I find the special effects to be stunning and terrifying, I don’t quite think this movie holds up as well as you make it sound like it should. Hahahaha.  Your opening statement makes the movie sound so much better than what I think it really is.

Max: That was bold alright.  So please don't mind my alliteration when I say that you are pooping on Pumpkinhead, which is a perfectly powerful picture in every possible way.   From the very opening frame of the movie, when we see nothing but red flames, there is a consistency in aesthetic here that is unbeatable.  The eerie music score, combined with the deep red camera filter set the tone for the hellish ride that's about to ensue.  Additionally, I don't think you could say that this movie doesn't receive an "A" for atmosphere.  The setting of Harley’ backwoods village (particularly where the opening sequence is concerned) is completely haunting.  I guess I could understand being bored with this film if you are not a fan of awesome visuals (accompanied by a dread-inducing score), but if you are sensitive at all to these more subtle elements, then there is no way that Pumpkinhead doesn't rule.

Mike: Do you see this, Max?  It’s my ass hanging out of my britches, taking a huge poop on Pumpkinhead.  Consistent aesthetics?    You want to talk about the unbeatable title sequence?  *Hmmmmmph*  Here’s a big turd for you:  It’s about a minute to two minutes long of nothing but flames, really?  The movie could have done better by showing panning shots of the super eerie pumpkin patch while the credits faded in and out.  Now, the opening scene is done very well: you have your small farming family rushing to lock things up, and hiding themselves from an unknown terror that’s lurking in the woods.  That was unsettling to the bone, but I don’t think this feeling really carried throughout the entire film.  I would have enjoyed the movie more if it had.

Max: So far as redundant hellfire goes, there can never be enough of that.  I enjoy the monotony.  And I am glad we can at least agree that the beginning carries a very dark and unsettling feeling.  While I do think that the suspense maybe fades in the scene at the house of Ed Harley and Billy, I think it picks right back up at the gas station, and from that point, I would say that the terror escalates very fast, particularly once Ed Harley drives deep into the mountains to the home of Haggis, the witch.

Mike: Haggis is one of the scariest looking witches in cinematic history.  She’s the Hansel and Gretel witch from the Grimm fairy tales, except her house is made out of wood rot instead of candy, and smells of death instead of sweets.  Haggis and the special effects used to create the demon Pumpkinhead make the movie for me.  Without those two elements, I think you have a very dull film that beats you over the head with its message.

Max: Though I absolutely disagree that the film is dull for its rather obvious, yet powerful message (if this were the criteria for "dull", wouldn't films like Dawn of the Dead be considered boring?) I do have similar praises where Haggis is concerned.  I think your Hansel and Gretel witch comparison is right on the money, as this is, essentially, a creepy backwoods fairy tale.  Haggis and the Pumpkinhead demon itself do "make" the film, to an extent.  Without such a hag of a witch and a hellion of a monster, it wouldn't be as fun to watch.  All the same, great characters and special effects will make or break any film, if you ask me.  This in and of itself makes Pumpkinhead a genre classic.  They don't make monsters like they used to anymore, and let's face it, that Pumpkinhead did look like the twisted, nasty, inbred face of vengeance, did it not?

Mike: It did.

Max: I should also note that Haggis is my favorite witch in any movie, ever.

Mike: I would agree with you.

Max: I want to live in her house.  Is that weird?   I can't even imagine what that would be like, waking up in the morning there..

Mike: Well, as long as you ONLY want to live in her house and not bang her like some old, decrepit, sexed-up sugar momma.

Max: You're always reading my mind, Mike.

Mike: However, sorry to put us back on track here, but I think I'm going to have to derail your classification of Pumpkinhead as a “genre classic.”

Max: Ok…go for it, weiner.  But just remember, Pumpkinhead was featured on a cover of Rue Morgue magazine for issue #81.  They don't do that for just every demon.

Mike: So were a lot of horror movies, but that doesn't make them classics.  Wasn’t Rob Zombie featured on the cover of the November/December 2001 issue?  He is NOT a “classic,” director.

Max: I never said Rob Zombie was a classic director.  But Rob Zombie probably likes this movie, because he has good taste...anyway.....you were saying?

Mike: I’m just saying that Rue Morgue doesn’t always reserve its covers for, how you say, “The greats.”  Rob Zombie…didn’t he also like Audition?  THAT was a disappointing movie that we'll have to review at another time.

Max:  I agree, Audition sucks.  Rob's good taste was completely out the window on that one.  Anyway this is an epic sub-tangent.  I thought you were going to de-bunk Pumpkinhead as a genre classic, while still moving us forward in the synopsis/review, eh?

Mike: Yes, but YOU keep distracting me.  ANYWAY, if strong characters are what you need for a horror film to become a classic then the antagonists in this film (the City teenagers), are pure drivel.  Their acting isn't quite Troll 2 terrible, but everything is forced and over the top.  And though, I typically love my character actors like Lance Henriksen, I don't think he can hold up the rest of the lack-luster cast.  Don't get me wrong, this is probably one of my favorite Henriksen movies...below Alien, Aliens, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, The Terminator, Damien: Omen II, Near Dark, but definitely above AVP.  Henriksen's performance, Haggis, and, of course, Pumpkinhead are the only things worth watching this movie for, because all the other supporting characters, and even the death scenes, are just laughable at best.  Pumpkinhead is a terrifying monster who beats you up.  Seriously, that's all he does?

Max: Ok....first of all, who cares about the stupid teenagers in any scary movie?  I feel like the teenagers in most horror movies act poorly (this is not necessarily even the fault of the actors, as they have lame 2 dimensional characters to portray).  Lance Henriksen is a fantastic character actor and I think he completely delivers in this movie.  He handles a wider range of emotion in this film than he had to do in the many others you named. Oh and you forgot that Lance's performance in Pumpkinhead ranks above his performance in "The Horror Show".  The death scenes, while not explicitly violent, portray enough long drawn out torture, I think, to imply that the Pumpkinhead demon is an agent of suffering.  He comes to administer a slow beating, that's true.  But when the slow beating involves a giant demon with an engorged turnip looking skull carving the shape of a cross into your forehead with his claws (or impaling you with a gun), I would say that's rather bad-ass.  It might not be as gruesome as what Jason does, but let's not forget, this is still supernatural horror.  For a fable or "fairytale", this is really rather violent.

Max: And again, let me point out that it's dark.  It's called atmosphere, people.  That’s what's missing from just about every horror movie that's made today.  Pumpkinhead's kill count “or lack thereof” only strengthens the case that it’s an imaginative film.  All the CG-enhanced dismemberings in the world wouldn't account for the scene when Pumpkinhead enters that old church and tears it to shreds.

Mike: Okay, first off, Lance Henriksen's performance in The Horror Show is nearly award worthy (what kind of an award I'll leave to your imagination), and WAY better than in this particular movie.  With that being said, I still think his character Ed Harley is pretty cool.

Mike: In regards to Pumpkinhead’s kills, well, on one hand you are correct: he almost comes off as a more realistic demon that's going to torment and torture you for your sins, rather than kill you quickly and practically painlessly.  On the other hand: watching someone get lifted over the roof of the house and out of the sight of the viewer (where we can't see the demon doing his devious acts) only to then see the results to be nothing more than scrapes and bruises, it's hard to be terrified of a monster who is only going to beat you up.  At some point you have to think, "If that's all Pumpkinhead does, then why doesn’t Ed Harley just beat the living shit out of the kids with a baseball bat or something?"  It would have had the same effect.

Max: There is not much that I have left to say regarding the teen deaths.  This is not a slasher movie, it's super natural.   I think you are overlooking the beauty of the pumpkin patch cemetery, which (though it doesn't appear at the beginning), is a significant example of something that trumps the need for excess gore.  None of the classic monster movies possessed a great amount of violence, so I'm not sure why the Pumpkinhead demon should be held to a different standard.  Moving on...what do you think about the end?

Mike: You're missing my point: Pumpkinhead almost seems unnecessary if, when acting on behalf of the person wanting revenge, all he does is beat up the victims.  Ed Harley could have done that himself, and the film could have been more like the revenge movies of the 1970's instead of this disappointing, gore-less fairy tale (The Grimm tales usually had terrifying bloody violence, so why wouldn't a film that has everything in it to be considered a classic allegorical fairy tale be without?).  Anyway, the ending was interesting, and at the same time, obvious.  If you don't know that Ed Harley and the Pumpkinhead are linked together, then you weren't paying attention and should be slapped.  What I liked about it was the masterful special effects that went into the changing of Pumpkinhead's face to the settle facial changes seen on Harley.  That part was beautiful.   When the witch Haggis takes the Pumpkinhead body (whose face resembles something that of Harley and the demon), to the cemetery to bury him all over again, is a thing of nightmares.  I can't get over the dark magic feel of that pumpkin patch cemetery.  It's truly grotesque and beautiful all at once.  The other side of this is that it was just too...abrupt.  At the end I was thinking to myself, "That's how they kill off the demon, really?"  I wanted more.

Max: Yeah that's interesting because I think I enjoyed the ending for the same reason you disliked it.  In my opinion, concluding battles in horror films are often long and drawn out.  This was short and to the point.  The amazing facial transformation in Henrikson that you mention is enough to show us what's about to happen.  He takes the noble way out by taking his own life.  This is more like the end of a short piece of fiction than a high-action blockbuster.  Ultimately the war was within himself and he had to end it.

Mike: But he doesn't end it himself, he tries, the surviving teenage girl is the one who ultimately finishes the job.  THAT is what I don't like about the ending.  I don't mind that Henriksen has to take his own life; in fact, he has a damn flame thrower.  I mean, why the hell did they bring out the flame thrower if they're not going to use it to kill the monster?  Henriksen even says that he's going to send the demon back to whatever hell it came from, but then fails to do so because he couldn't quite shoot himself in the head right.  The flamethrower tank should have exploded, engulfing Henriksen in flames, and we should have watched both him and Pumpkinhead die in harmonious agony.  I would have enjoyed THAT ending more.

Max: In asking her to kill him, he is still forfeiting power to his victim, and allowing her to turn his own vengeance on him, thus enabling his own death.  It's suicide no matter how you look at it.  His urging her to do it (much in the way that those about to "turn" into werewolves beg their loved ones for absolution), is an admission that the darkness in him has already triumphed.  I like the fable-ish simplicity in his death and I think it fits with the tone of the rest of the film.  On the other hand, I have to admit, your alternate ending sounds pretty frickin' cool.

Mike: I guess we'll agree to disagree on the ending (on much of the film, really), but I see your point.

Mike: Well, this brings us to another thrilling conclusion from the balcony.  I'm going to give Pumpkinhead one bloody nub up (for Haggis, Henriksen, and the Pumpkinhead demon) and one bloody nub down (for everything else).  It's an okay movie to watch if, like me, you just want to watch horror movies all day and this one just happens to be in the stack of DVDs or on your Netflix queue.

Max: And from my end of the balcony, I give Pumpkinhead two enthusiastic bloody nubs up (one for the elements Mike mentioned, and the other for a rich sense of atmosphere and overall aesthetic success).  If you're like me and you enjoy horror movies with a darkly imaginative bent, then this really is a great movie for repeat viewings.