In this day and age of effects and skillful CGI, perhaps Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) doesn’t elicit genuine terror and chills anymore.
But isn’t there just something dramatic and rich about that era of film in which leading ladies say ‘darling’ and a good three piece suit can cause girls to swoon and cleavage is non existent. And isn’t Tippi Hedren magnificently glamorous, even as a flock of angry seagull puppets ravages her flawless skin?
There’s a magic to the classics, after all.
It was at the impressionable age of 11 that I saw Scream (1996). I’m not proud of it, but Scream changed my horror loving life. And, sadly, in my twisted little mind, I developed a huge crush on rat faced Skeet Ulrich. Oh, the joys of youth.
Credited with revitalizing Wes Craven’s career, Scream brought back the slash and stalk horror films of the 70’s and 80’s and made the idea fashionable again. And boy did it. Suddenly Scream costumes were everywhere, and they still remain on Halloween shelves every year, far beyond the point that children of trick or treating age would possibly know what the costume is in reference to.
Scream has a sense of humor, and pays repeated homage to other horror films, with references ranging from blatantly obvious to deliciously subtle. Scream also offers a few memorable scenes that have somehow managed to stick it out after all this time (yes, nearly 20 years, good god do I feel old). Who among us didn’t cringe a little when Tatum (Rose Mcgowan) was crushed in the garage door? When Casey (Drew Barrymore) is seen hung from a tree with her ‘insides on the outside’. When Randy (Jamie Kennedy….remember Jamie Kennedy?) outlines the rules of survival in a horror film.
Some magical chemistry of actors, music, horror references and general silliness put Scream on the map and managed to spawn a number of terrible sequels (and reportedly, an upcoming TV series…..how indeed). There’s a reference to the sequels of A Nightmare on Elm Street, a dig to all of those terrible films, as Wes Craven sold the rights to the film following the original. Perhaps this indicates that he takes no responsibility for shitty sequels, but anyone who’s seen the following few Screams knows better.
I know more about this film than I should share with you here, and if you ever get the chance to watch it with me, don’t. I know all the lines and I incessantly spout them off at inopportune times, ruing the entire vibe.
The acting is passable, if forgettable. The story is fairly lackluster, but that hardly matters in the grand scope of things.Scream remains a classic, and it hardly seems worth dissecting. Just let it live. Enjoy the cheese and the handful of genuine scares (there’s no longer a fragment that scares me, but 11 year old me was another story) and the general fun. As I’ve said, Scream has a sense of humor, and it truly doesn’t take itself too seriously. If you go into it feeling the same, you walk away satisfied. Scream seems like just the ticket to transition your tween daughter from frightened scattered childhood memories of The Exorcist to full on horror fiend. Not scary enough to scar, but scary enough to leave you asking for more.
Oh, the good old days.
“Youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald
Life Lessons:(I admittedly didn’t have to fish very far for these gems.)
1. Never drink or do drugs. (You’d better not kid.)
2. Never have sex. (till you’re thirty).
3. Never say ‘I’ll be right back.” Because you won’t.
4. Never ask, ‘who’s there?’. Come on, Casey, you should’ve known better.
5. Don’t investigate strange noises.
Bonus: Don’t run up the stairs when you should be running out the front door.
Wacky science goes awry in 1972’s Night of the Lepus.
There’s a real rabbit problem in the southwest. Hordes of fuzzy little bunnies are burrowing around the farms and flatlands, causing horses to break their legs and inevitably be shot. Enter scientists Roy and Gerry Bennett (Stuart Whitman and scream queen Janet Leigh) who strive to mess about with genes and diseases and hormones to eradicate the issue. The couples creepy little blonde daughter messes about in the lab and, before you know it, the southwest has a REAL rabbit problem.
Yep, you got it right, folks, giant man-mauling (not quite maneating) killer rabbits. Madness abounds.
So much bright red blood.
So many minature sets with bunnies tumbling about over them.
The occasional rabbit suited attack….
One endless night of terrifying cuteness.
This film takes itself a lot more seriously than one might expect, but the bottom line is, if you’ve got a sense of humor, it’s shockingly watchable.
Life lessons:
1. Quit poking around in the lab, kid!
2. Reinforce your walls and windows, you never know when giant bunnies may attack.
3. Darken the blood, this crap looks like paint.
4. Maybe just get a kitten.
5. Have a sense of humor. Laughs save lives.
An indie film made possible by Kickstarter, Chrysalis (2014) is yet another post apocalyptic zombie flick (zombie, undead, infection, they’re all zombie flicks in my book), but it relies heavily on emotion and is far from heavy handed with the gore.
Directed by John Klein, Chrysalis follows Joshua and Penelope as they wander the wreckage of 2038, long after an outbreak of infection that turns its victims into cannibalistic monsters. They scavenge for food and unlikely survivors in the rubble of factories and churches (beautifully shot, I might add) and fend off the monsters as they filter into their safe zone. This apparent wasteland has existed long enough that the couple don’t know their birthdays, Penelope doesn’t know her last name, and she never learned to read. Society has crumbled.
Penelope keeps falling pregnant and miscarrying the children, much to her dismay. Joshua fears for her health and Penelope worries Joshua will leave her. The pair come across another survivor who joins them and urges them further into the city they’ve been living on the outskirts of. As the trio move forward, they are plagued by more and more infected, and questions arise about why the sudden increase. What could be causing the monsters to track them now?
Chrysalis is a slow boil of a film. It doesn’t pound out the action like one might suspect of a ‘zombie’ film, but it leans much of its weight on character development. It’s low budget, and at times, it truly looks it, especially when we are faced with any type of blood and gore, but it isn’t without it’s worthwhile emotional moments. The shots of old, crumbling architecture, warehouses, churches and factories are truly lovely, and there is an aura of stillness and loss that permeates throughout.
The acting is surprisingly decent, with the exception of Sara Gorsky as Penelope. Perhaps it was the way her character was written, but she comes across painfully whiny at times, and so brutally helpless that the Walking Dead fan in me was ready to tell her…..just look at the flowers, Pen. Just look at the flowers. Her delivery is wooden and staccato and feels insincere, despite the pitiful look she carries on her face throughout the film. Cole Simon as Josh and Tanya Thai Mcbride as Abria are capable and sell their characters well.
Chrysalis is a film that banks on characters, mood and story, and in that, it offers us something that is often overlooked in a film of it’s type. That being said, perhaps it is this attention to themes, symbolism and all that lovely literary fluff that allows some details to go a little awry. In a post apocalyptic world plagued by the essential undead, where everyone seems to have his or her own signature killing weapon, how are these girls still so afraid of the ‘walkers’ as it were? The hysteria gets a little unlikely at times. Penelope seems, right from the start, like the type of girl who couldn’t survive the walk to her car in a dark parking lot, let alone someone who could defy the odds and live on the run, as she’s done. And the ability to find canned food and operate flashlights 20 years after normal life has ceased seems a bit far fetched. And lastly, and might I add, SPOILER ALERT, why would infected be ATTRACTED to the scent of another infected? Seems like eau du living might be more appetizing to the ghouls in question.
Chrysalis isn’t unworthy of your time, just go into it knowing it is a low budget film, and it’s far bigger on drama then it is on scare. That certainly doesn’t mean it’s a flop, but it is unlikely to scare the pants off of you when it feels more like a date night film then a Halloween affair.
Life Lessons:
1. LEARN TO READ AND DO IT OFTEN. This is an important lesson, and I don’t need cinema to tell me so.
2. Save your flashlights, apparently they last FOREVER.
3. If dogs are barking somewhere, you may want to run.
4. Don’t waste your freaking matches on cigarettes. That being said, don’t smoke, dumbass.
5. So, maybe you’ve found the love of your life in the apocalypse. Maybe you feel like the only two people left on earth. Maybe you are. MAYBE you can still do better.
Asylum of the Dead (2014) looks like a film made by the high school students at Degrassi Junior High. I keep waiting for Wheels and Joey Jeremiah to show up with a bucket of corn syrup. That being said, no one needs corn syrup in a film that has, so far, zero blood and barely as much makeup as I have at the bottom of my purse. Yes, I said, SO FAR. I didn’t feel compelled to finish the film before beginning my review as it seems pretty clear that there aren’t going to be any redeeming moments.
The story follows a group of youths (we know this because they wear backpacks) wandering about the old abandoned Penhurst Asylum, soon to be Penhurst Asylum Haunted Themepark…….but didn’t you hear about the film crew that was here? They disappeared! After encountering many a poorly made up ghost and ghoul. Hipster youth tells the tale, and we stumble into the story within a story, only occasionally returning to this crew of not quite camera ready kiddos, who make poorly executed references to things like The Walking Dead…….
Story in a story follows cast and crew of Haunted America or Ghost Trackers or Haunted hunters or some such thing as they explore Penhurst asylum, getting the occasional history lesson from Willard, the ‘caretaker’ of the property, who lurks in the shadows, tells the clan to ‘leeeeeeave’, and offers to show them where to find ghosts. Mixed messages, bro. The group consists of Not Hilary Duff, Not Jessica Biel (aka 7th Heaven sister), Tattoos, old guy, other old guy, and sound guy. There might be another one, but they’ve blurred together. IMDB has almost zero information on this movie, so I’m unable to quote you actors names until I make it to the credits. Good ‘ol fashioned IMDB.
Everyone inevitably splits up, wanders the halls as wheelchairs move, gurneys spin and particularly unghostly looking ghosts show up and, quite frankly, do very little. Let it be noted that this is all filmed during daylight, amidst a backdrop of very obviously fake graffiti, that doesn’t exactly lend itself to doom and dread.Gradually, members of the group are accosted by the mysterious masked whitecoat, hauled off to equally well lit rooms and experimented on and slowly eliminated in lackluster ways. Well, old guy number one does get a little extra slice and dice, but sadly, it doesn’t pack the punch it needs to.
We get sent back to the kids and their campfire tales from time to time (how hipster boy knows all these details when none of it was caught on film and everyone seemingly died…..). Two of them split from the group to make out, because urine soaked halls are a turn on.
I’m not giving you any more details, but spoiler alert, the crappy doctor ghost turn out to be Micheal Rooker! Maybe not a plot twist, but I was surprised, and confused. And then saddened. And I thought how badly things must be going for Mr. Rooker following his death on The Walking Dead. Why, you might wonder, is Micheal Rooker in a film that I had originally thought Haylie Duff was too good for. Well, the last and final twist, after the film concludes (stupidly) is that Asylum of the Dead is, in fact, DIRECTED BY MICHEAL ROOKER. God god.
It doesn’t matter what this film is about, all that matters is that it’s unspeakably terrible! Literally no redeeming qualities, as predicted. Now that I’ve ruined the surprise, if it was really an intended surprise, you don’t have to watch it, because I can assure you, you haven’t missed a thing.
Husband’s Sound bite : (in response to my question of ‘how did they even get THESE actors to be in this garbage?) Because everyone needed fifty bucks.
Life Lessons:
1. Don’t quit your day job, direction is NOT for everyone.
2. Quit taunting ghosts, dude. Even terrible looking ones.
3. Never drink or do drugs or have sex. Randy isn’t wrong about his rules in such a run of the mill ‘horror’ movie.
4. Pay for special effects and makeup, it will make a difference.
5. Lay off the meth, because needing fifty bucks for drugs is the only reason anyone would ever agree to be involved in this movie.
Some very bleak moments having little to do with the supernatural are what remain after Deliver Us From Evil wraps up, whether that is what director Scott Derrickson intended or not. Otherwise, this cop-horror-thriller-supernatural-jambalaya is nothing to write home about.
Centered on Sergeant Ralph Sarchie, played skilfully by Eric Bana (who knows better, really), the film leads us into the heart of darkness that is police work. Sarchie works the beat in New York, with his partner, played by Joel McHale (yes, of Community, and yes, it feels odd to have him in this role. I suspect he was cast based on arm circumference.) After a blip of a scene featuring soldiers in Iraq stalking into a cave and presumably uncovering some unspeakable evil (not so much is said, but does it have to be?), the film connects with Sarchie as he holds a dead baby found in a dumpster. Yikes. Sarchie tries to disconnect from his job, often overcome with anger and emotion. The entire film works to convince us of this fact, though this opening sequence does the trick without any dialogue, making some of the drama feel a little redundant.
Sarchie walks us through a day in the life, dumpster babies, domestic disputes, whackos running around the zoo, insect riddled corpses in possessed basements…..crucified cats. Something spooky is afoot, though Sergeant Scully doubts anything amiss beyond the evil of the people. The connection between all the craziness is a photo of three soldiers in Iraq. Familiar? They’ve all been dishonorably discharged for attacking a priest. What did they uncover far off in the sandy depths of darkness? (The Exorcist, anyone?).
In the role of rough around the edges Father Karras is Edgra Ramirez as Father Mendoza, a character with a deadpan attitude towards all things eveil, or perhaps it’s just Ramirez himself, trying to disconnect from this film. Mendoza stumbles into Sarchie’s path in an effort to help one of his whackos (a highly unnecessary character named Jane who serves mostly to stare buggy eyed at the camera and creep and crawl about in the shadows). The man of God meets the man without faith. Ah, the staht of a beautiful friendship (does my New Yawk accent translate?).
The pair, accompanied by McHale, who, at one point, gets held up on the stairs behind a stuck piano or something (what kind of gimmick is that?) investigate the soldiers and their craziness. This tale is spliced in with some cheap tricks of Sarchie’s family and the desperate creep out scenes of toys moving of their own accord and scratching sounds in his little girl’s bedroom. Wife Olivia Munn is projects her own anxieties and is certain that lil Susie is just expressing her need for her Daddy to come home, no help there. Poor gal is stuck in her haunted bedroom waiting for the film’s finale.
And it comes with a tired exorcism scene that offers little that we haven’t seen before. The power of Christ compels you, spooky overlapping voices, Latin, yaddah yaddah. Toss in the constantly flickering lights, because, of course, lights don’t work in the presence of evil, and you’ve got a nice little cliche stew.
So, to summarize, a trio of soldiers uncover SOMETHING, bring it home to New York, pass it on to a handful of people, inspire weird scratching fits, Latin graffiti, poltergeist like toy animation, and bone smashing suicides. Why? Who knows? By what exactly? Who knows? How does Sarchie seem to have this ‘radar’ for evil? Pfft, no answers on that one. The film stirs up a story that might have a few creepy images (yes, Jane crawling towards the screen spattered with blood and the sudden, jarring jump scares that pop up from time to time are unnerving) but falls flat with shockingly little depth. In the grand scheme of maniacal goings on in New York on a day to day basis, this small handful of weirdos seems to be pretty minor. I mean, for god’s sake, we’ve already found a baby in a dumpster and heard the tale of a child molester and killer who dumps a little girl in a garbage can. These stories might linger, but the possession tale feels less than original, and the junction with the haunted kid feels like a far reach to try and incorporate the kind of cheap horror tricks that sell a film in the previews.
Life Lessons:
1. Get an office job, police work seems less than fun.
2. Buy LED lightbulbs.
3. Do not buy into ‘based on a true story’. Do your own research.
4. Don’t marry a cop. He’ll be out all night, leaving your house susceptible to spookiness.
5. People are strange.
That moment when you’re feeding your infant daughter and watching a horror film, and that film is Martyrs (2008) and you think……well, this ain’t right.
Directed by Pascal Laugier, Martyrs is an extremely intense horror film from France. Note to self, dubbing is pathetic, if you can watch this film with subtitles, I expect it’s even more effective. The story opens on a young girl, disheveled, beaten, clearly a victim of abuse and torture, escaping captivity.She is Lucy. Lucy is brought to some sort of children’s home, and we are privy to grainy home movies of her progress. A friendship forms with her roommate, Anna. Lucy gives no information as to who held her captive, nor how they could be tracked down. Lucy is haunted by inner demons you wouldn’t believe, and her wacky nightmares might just inspire your own.
Fifteen years later, Lucy exacts her revenge. How she gets to this point really doesn’t matter in the grand scope of the film. What began as the tale of an abused girl has become something else entirely, as Lucy and Anna are thrown ever deeper into this world of torture and depravity. I don’t want to give away details. This movie packs such a punch if you go into it blind, I refuse to lessen that impact, but let me be clear, Martyrs is not a film for the faint of heart. If you walk away from this one without at least a shudder in your soul and a distant feeling of unease, you’d better get your head checked, friend.
Martyrs is not ‘torture-porn’ in the vein of Hostel(2005), Saw(2004) or many others that focus on the guts and gore. Don’t get me wrong, if blood gets to you, move on friend, this is not for you. Even if it doesn’t, it just might by the end of this one. If you think you can imagine horrors like this, you can’t. And if you can, I don’t think I want to hang out. Martyr’s has a much deeper story, and some concept of a greater good, twisted though it truly is. It doesn’t go so far as to confuse the audience on who is and isn’t the villain here, but the methodical, all business process of this underworld makes some sort of eerie sense.
The film puts the audience on level with the victims featured. We are led step by step along their path, through the atrocities they face, and forced to feel what they feel. We are shown weaknesses and strengths, horrors and the occasional slight moment of humanity. Amidst the terrors, these snippets of kindness feel immense, and honestly are all that serves to lighten the tension in your chest and let you take a deep breath again. All before shoving you deeper down the rabbit hole into madness you never even pictured.
Fear and isolation, and what it can and will do to the soul, is what we are forced to face in this film. You will not, and should not, walk away unaffected. Maybe I’m getting weak in my old age, but I think I’ll go watch Bambi now.
Life Lessons for my child:
1. Stay away from crazy people, even if they’re not crazy after all.
2. Always call the cops.
3. Keep your brain sharp, you never know when it’s the only company you might have.
4. Don’t talk to strangers.
5. While we’re at it, maybe just stay home, all the time, with your mom, and never talk to anyone. Kay?
Manhunter (1986) teeters on the edge of horror. In my mind it, and all it’s fellow Hannibal Lector films fall into the crime thriller category, but the inclusion of some truly ghastly killers allows them to dip their creepy little toes into the cold, clammy waters of the horror genre.
Manhunter was based on the novel Red Dragon (and is the original film, not to be mistaken for the remake starring Edward Norton, admittedly a decent, dark film). I’ve read Thomas Harris’s novels, and I credit any of the film’s successes largely to his ability to write characters and details that get under your skin. At this particular novel’s opening, a crime scene is described as though one could hear ‘screams still hanging in the air’. The film throws us into this crime scene, and that line rings true.
What sets this one apart, bordering on the genre of thriller? It’s smart. Horror tends not to get a lot of credit for intelligence, and sadly, that’s a fair assumption most of the time. Manhunter is an in-depth crime drama, following FBI agent Will Graham (William Petersen, as rough and tumble hard ass) as he is called back on the job following something of a breakdown. Will has the knack for getting into the minds of psychos. He did so with Dr. Hannibal Lecktor, the now incarcerated madman who needs no introduction. In this first Lecktor/Lector film, Han the Man is played adeptly by Brian Cox. I won’t compare the two, both he and Anthony Hopkins have an eerie charisma that is hard to turn away from. That being said, I could’ve used a little more Lecktor time. He’s a compelling character and this film leaves his influence a little too short for me.
Graham is investigating the Tooth Fairy, an elusive killer who has murdered several families in brutal ways. Graham spends a good deal of time retracing his killer’s steps, trying to envision what he did and how he did it. Unfortunately, this means that Petersen spends a lot of time talking out loud in the second person in a rather unrealistic way, but one that is tough to avoid and get your point across. In his investigations, Graham consults Leckter in his asylum, a clinically white and very 80’s modern building. Like I said before, I could’ve used a bit more Leckter time.
It’s tough not to compare this film to Red Dragon (2002), having seen it first. I find it a tad more stylish and dark. Manhunter doesn’t feel timeless, for certain, in the style, dress and the painfully unsubtle music. Tom Noonan, as the Tooth Fairy is lanky and weird and all around creepy. He has the look of a maniac, but somehow his character doesn’t feel as fleshed out as I hoped it would be. We get Graham’s point of view of him, but once we get to see his part of the story, we get no depth, just surface maniac.
There are some skillful moments in the film, a good tone of doom, an impending sense of dread, of a lurking confrontation. The air is filled with unease throughout, with no lightening of the mood. In a climactic scene, there’s a role reversal between Graham and TF, as Graham stalks through the woods, peering into lit windows, essentially stalking his prey. If this film were just a little less heavy handed with the music and the all too current for the time touches, it might still have more of an impact.
Honestly, I prefer the newer version, Red Dragon, but I have to give Manhunter some accolade for being a compelling film, none the less.
Life Lessons:
1. If you left the job behind due to a breakdown, stay retired.
2. Don’t taunt the psycho, lest you find yourself aflame and tied to a wheelchair.
3. Brush your teeth.
4. Don’t get a perm.
5. Hannibal Lecktor/Lector is always smarter than you.
So, the thing about Cabin Fever 3 is that if you can read the title, and are smart enough to discern that the film is about contagion, you don’t need to see the first two. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen Cabin Fever, and I’ve got a real soft spot for it, masking that true underlying fear of disease (lets not discuss Ebola just now). There’s a sick humor to the film, and a delightful campiness that is clearly intended. If you have the stomach for a skin loosening good time, check it out.
As for the third in the trilogy (I’m using that term loosely), Cabin Fever 3: Patient Zero, we stumble into some sort of mysterious underground lab. A Zach Galifinakis lookalike is weeping in the restraint of some hazmatted fellows. ‘Zach’ is patient zero, an unbelievable doctor tells us. Accompanied by his pornographically shaped nurse, he gives us very little information except to say that our patient is asymptomatic. Perhaps he is the answer to the cure! Now, Zachs not pumped about being captive, and moans and groans, eventually slicing his hand and splattering blood on the techs. Ah, bloody revenge! Cut to nurse science boobs getting blood vomited on, stripping her clothes off to jump hysterically in the lab shower. Well, we all know she’s dead.
The story is spliced with another, a group of greasy young guys and one sleazy gal escape pre wedding festivities in a tropical setting to head out to the third world version of a cabin in the woods, a deserted island. Wait, is that a building in the distance?? Our Spanish speaking boat captain offers no help, except to say, see you mañana, amigos! No matter, smoke some weed and snorkel amidst the ….dead and rotting fish? Curious. Soon enough, symptoms arise, boils and scabs and bloody wounds. Tents are painted with blood and a pathetic underlying love triangle is forgotten. There is an obligatory disgusting sex scene. Because why wouldn’t you calm down your feverish and oozing girlfriend by getsin down?
As the threat posed by the fever becomes rapidly apparent, the two healthy castaways search for the structure they saw coming in. Amidst a good deal of slime and slop, the stories converge in a slightly nonsensical way ( let’s face it, this movies not amazing).
Needless to say, Cabin Fever 3 follows all the patterns of the first, it hits all the necessary high points we expect, but doesn’t have the humor of the original . It’s not great, it’s not even bad great, but it is predictable fun and boy, is it gross. So if you’re in it for fun and splatter, go crazy, but don’t seek this one out, it’s not worth your time. Watch the first one instead.
Non horror loving husbands review: no thanks, I like my skin where it is.
Life lessons:
1. If you’re going so far from civilization that you come in contact with deadly diseases with the power to destroy the world, just in the name of partying, you’re going too far. At least the diseases at the bar can be treated with penicillin. ( you, daughter, will always be innocent and lovely and will never party of course.)
2. If there’s an option to bed someone who, though attractive, is being rapidly covered with boils and sores, maybe you can do better.
3. Learn Spanish.
4. The sluttier you are, the faster you die. Keep it in your pants.
5. For gods sake, don’t drink the water!
Imagine, baby free afternoon. Grandma’s babysitting and the hubs and I have scored a few hours to steal away to yee olde movie house.
Cut to me fervently trashing Annabelle (2014) on the drive home.
Last year, The Conjuring (2013) made big bucks and won the hearts of horror and ghost hunting fanatics everywhere. If you’d heard of The Warrens, you were sold on the film, and even if you hadn’t, by the films finale you were left ready for more.
It was only natural that the movie powers that be would reach their money grubbing little paws into this, ahem….’true’ story and come out with the salvageable morsel that is Annabelle.
Annabelle, the most horrific looking Victorian doll ever made (specifically for the genre as we have all heard that the real Annabelle was an innocuous looking raggedy ann) is introduced in The Conjuring for a brief moment, serving mostly to introduce Ed and Lorraine Warren themselves. All we know is this doll is possessed, evil, connected to ‘the spirit if Annabelle Higgens’ and is now jailed in the warrens occult museum and blessed by a priest regularly to prevent evil behaviour from occurring.
So, you steal these few fragments of story and build a spin off? What could your audience want to know? Who is Annabelle Higgens, how did the doll become possessed, and how did the nurses in The Conjuring come to acquire her?
What do we get? A Rosemary’s baby homage (constant obvious references) that offers up a suspenseful first twenty minutes. This opening answers our first two questions with a jarring skill. A few chilling scenes involving spattered blood, satanic cultists and some seemingly random violence are among the films most effective. Sadly, this story leads us to the question no one was asking: what happened between the dolls possession and it’s next owners?
This film is largely unnecessary. It couldn’t decide whether to focus on an inanimate doll (who somehow operates appliances and rocking chairs and slightly changes positions), the spirit possessing her (shaggy haired gal in white, sometimes a child, sometimes an adult, sometimes wandering the house, sometimes strangely not present) or the more ominous, non specific demon creature that lurks in the dark and has oddly conflicting powers (can’t take your soul unless invited, but can seem to posses the bodies of others, make babies disappear and toss books around). This film was confused. Pick one villain and do it well instead of delving into three separate (though admittedly connected) antagonists and slopping together a couple of creepy images.
The story centres on John and Mia, a young couple in the early throes of parenthood. Mia collects bafflingly creepy dolls and is inexplicably thrilled when honey brings home the enormous Annabelle doll that no one in their right mind would make, let alone buy. As previously mentioned, doll gets possessed amidst culty violence, John tosses Barbie out. She comes back as the family moves to a new home and Mia decides she’ll just hang on to the more and more demonic looking child sized doll. Weird stuff ensues. Annabelle moves slightly. The rocking chair rocks, doors close, music turns on. Nothing highly alarming or unexpected occurs. Audiences will not be shocked.
Enter helpful priest (though ineffective) and convieniently open minded neighbour lady. Cut to complete nonsense neighbour kid with an odd artistic skill (these kids should’ve been cut! What was the point, who are their parents, where did they come from and why does no one care?!). Cheap jump scares, actors that seem to be playing dress up in the costume department of Roman Polanskis past, and some unusually heavy themes about life, death and the duties of motherhood.
What goes right? Some truly suspenseful scenes are peppered in, perhaps with lacklustre and confusing payoff (who or what grabs Mia during the fire when nothing else ever seems to lay a hand on her?). The aforementioned heavy themes aren’t without a certain poignancy, but this cheap horror film feels like the wrong venue to convey them.
The final word? Annabelle falls flat. Chock full of potential, director John R. Leonetti couldn’t decide where to channel his focus and wound up with a ham fisted 60s romp through horrors of yesteryear. Had he centered his movie around Annabelle Higgens, the source of the dolls evil, and delved into her personal story, the inner workings of The Family-like cult and the eerie helter skelter that’s bound to encircle those weirdos and their demon fetishes, we might’ve had an refreshingly different and compelling film. He could’ve made a whole film about how the doll got possessed and ended it without the story of John and Mia, but with the segue right into the conjuring.
Not a film you wake in the night still thinking of, if you have any sense of logic at all.
As a new feature, I’m including the non horror loving husbands review, perhaps for the weak of heart: ‘she gets me to go see one a year, and she wasted it on this one’.
He admittedly says through covered eyes.
Now, for a finishing touch, to impart the wisdom of horror cinema onto my child, I must include the top five lessons learned from Annabelle
1. The priest won’t save you.
2. If you suspect something is evil, and especially if it has a face, throwing it in the garbage can won’t suffice. You burn that shit!
3. If demons are after your baby, stop leaving her alone. Even if you’re JUST going down six floors to the basement that never ends.
4. Don’t marry a doctor, he won’t have time for your explorations into satansim.
5. This ‘sequel-prequel’ sucks. Stick to the good stuff and watch Rosemary’s Baby instead. ‘This is not a dream, this is really happening!!’.
 | CGsaysstuff on Scenes from a Pandemic |
 | Lorri White on Scenes from a Pandemic |
 | Katherine Ann on Ramblings |
| CGsaysstuff on Ramblings |
| Katherine Ann on Ramblings |
The Dark and Stormy Night 