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End of Days: Worst Film of All Time

November 14, 2007

Posted by
Corey
corey@evilontwolegs.com

everyone has a film that they use as the yardstick by which other horrible films are measured. like many, i often use uwe boll’s films in this capacity… but uwe boll bashing is becoming passé and, truth be told — his films actually seem to take pride in their flaws. therefore, most of the time i use a different example when saying things like, “yeah it was bad — but it wasn’t [insert worst movie ever made here] bad.” for quite a few years now that movie has been the cinematic ovarian cyst known as end of days.

true, you can probably find thousands of ultra low-budget films that objectively are far more worse than end of days. but something must be said for a film that not only fails, but fails spectacularly. the case could be made that many films would not have been so horrible had the production had a little more money or a little more time. end of days, on the other hand, had all the money in world, the abilities of some very talented actors and a crew of hundreds of people, any one of which could have put a stop to this horror simply by saying “hey, you know what? this kinda sucks.” they didn’t though, so we are left with the monstrosity…

Set at the turn of the millennium, End of Days tells the story of Jericho Cane, a man who finds himself pulled into a web of supernatural intrigue when he discovers that the fate of mankind rests with the safety of a woman who is pursued by the ultimate evil. Confronted by a villain who he cannot defeat with conventional methods, Jericho desperately searches for a way to prevail, but to do so he must regain faith in himself and overcome the tragic loss of his own family.

at least that’s how one reviewer summed it up. another, equally valid, way is this: “a film whose existence can only be explained by positing that the first draft of the script must have been a smallish yellow post-it note with a largish smudge of unidentifiable animal feces on it.”

so let us delve into the intricacies of this little film, shall we?

the first thing one notices is that this film is dark. i don’t mean se7en dark, like in terms of “mood.” i’m talking doom3 dark without the flashlight mod kind of dark. this is what happens when you let the director be his own dp… (pun alert) in light of this, i’ve taken the liberty of brightening up the screenshots so you can actually make out what’s going on.

not being particularly religious, i shouldn’t really care… but i’ll also point out that this film is about the apocalypse… there’s tons of new testament references, crucifixes and a whole “christianity will win the day” vibe going on here. And it’s directed by a jew. sidenote: sam raimi was offered this gig, but passed, thereby further justifying my respect. anyway, let’s get started…

the film opens with a bunch of priests in the vatican saying that (against all probability) a baby is being born somewhere on the planet. and then they get into an argument about whether they should kill it or not. in typical pope fashion, the pope decides they definitely should not kill the baby. in the event that they could find it. which they can’t.

then we’re wisked off to the world’s darkest delivery room. a baby is born and a creepy fat nurse takes the baby down the world’s darkest hospital hallway, into the world’s darkest elevator and then into the world’s darkest basement. here the always-creepy udo kier (even when eating doughnuts) feeds the baby some snake’s blood and sends it back to its momma. cut to 20 years later.

now the baby’s grown up into that girl who shaved off all her hair in empire records… then wore a big blonde wig in the craft.

ok, a big ‘ol flame comes shooting out of some manhole covers and an invisible demon thingy comes flying out too (predator type invisible… not hollow man type). so… what does a big semi-invisible demon thing do its first day in new york city? get some pizza or see a show? no, it goes straight to the men’s room. there it finds gabriel byrne, tosses him around a bit and jumps in his belly. fully linda blair-ed now, gabriel walks out, kisses some woman, gives her husband the stink-eye (see above), and walks out of the restaurant just as it explodes, incinerating the bathroom, the woman, and the husband but not the stink-eye as gabriel escapes unscathed.

so far this isn’t making a whole lot of sense, but at least we’ve seen some talented actors. maybe this movie won’t be so bad…

oh, for god’s sakes. it’s arnold schwarzenegger. hanging from a helicopter.

this doesn’t bode well.

turns out arnold’s a down-on-his-luck body guard. he seems to like playing russian roulette, drinking and putting pizza in blenders. think of the first scene with mel gibson in lethal weapon and you know what they were trying to convey here. yep… he’s an ex-cop whose family was killed and now all he has left is a death wish, some bitterness towards god, a few slices of left-over pizza and kevin pollak.

ok, someone took a shot at gabriel byrne and now arnold has to chase the sniper around on a helicopter, hanging from a string. oh, notice that y2k sign in the background. they’re everywhere. every external shot, every park bench, every subway car, every piece of paper fluttering on the ground has this logo on it. just in case the “december 31st, 1999” that keeps popping up at the bottom of the screen doesn’t clue you into the whole millenium theme.

woh, who’s that guy on the right? it’s certainly not arnold.

anyway… arnold and his poorly disguised stunt double save the shooter from falling off the roof, chase him into a train tunnel, and then negate that ‘saving him from falling off the roof’ thing by shooting him. then the real cops show up and there’s lots of –

arnold looking like this and —

the cop lady looking like this and —

then arnold yells at them a bit and they go away with the shooter guy. oh yeah — the shooter guy was yelling about how the “1000 days are over” and other nonsense you already heard in chris carter’s millennium. the cops discover the guy is a priest and has no tongue… and arnold seems a little mystified at this. the movie takes the bold move of never even attempting an explanation of how arnold could hear a guy with no tongue speak perfect english. i love this movie.

in the priest’s apartment they (first arnold and later, the cops) discover a picture of the chick from empire records and decide to focus the rest of their investigation on this small fact for no logical reason.

ok, then we’re back with the chick mentioned above, who gets approached by this creepy little albino fellow. he spouts wonderful dialog like the above and then —

falls over and shatters. like all albinos. then the girl wakes up, we realize it was just a dream and we can get back to arnold. oh, and we find out that arnold’s character’s full name is jericho cane. why not just drop all subtlety and name him holy mcjesus?

as it turns out, jericho isn’t having such a good day. he breaks out his daughter’s music box and starts crying. crying. arnold schwarzenegger is crying. let me try to convey how well this turns out on the silver screen…

imagine a chicken in a barnyard. imagine a farmer cutting this chicken’s head off. now imagine this chicken’s body running full tilt at a wall attempting to perform the scene where lady macbeth attempts to wash invisible bloodstains off her hands. the similarities are so close between this imaginary event and arnold attempting to convey grief that it borders on no longer being a metaphor.

then gabriel byrne (aka SATAN) meets up with udo and his family. he has a little fantasy doohickey where he sexes up udo’s wife and daughter (i’m starting to see why gabriel decided to be in this movie) and starts his search for the chick from empire records. it turns out that satan has got to get freaky with that girl between 11pm and midnite on new year’s eve (eastern standard time, i’m assuming) to sire his demon spawn. which will lead to the end of days. it doesn’t sound too bad, except I question any world domination plan that revolves around busting a nut.

ok, then satan runs into this goofball with the “satan rules” t-shirt. satan likes the shirt so, of course, he makes the kid run into a bus.

meanwhile, arnold is checking in on that priest he shot earlier who is now dead. carved into the guy’s chest is a bunch of crap in latin plus the phrase “christ in new york.” in the most ludicrious leap of detective logic i have ever been privy to, arnold decides “maybe that means something else. we’re looking for a girl… maybe it’s her name. do a search for chris york… or christine york.”

bingo! there’s a christine york! batman and sherlock holmes rolling around in baby oil couldn’t have figured that one out, but damn if arnold didn’t crack the case.

arnold catches up with christine. she’s obviously ticked off that arnold has thus far gotten to make all the funny faces in the movie, so she makes one of her own. she does this because…

her apple has little people growing in it! oh, satan! you cad!

now comes my favorite scene of the entire movie. satan shows up, but decides he needs to take out arnold’s partner (kevin pollak) first. why this is necessary, i don’t know. kevin is just sitting in a van across the street, not really paying attention to much of anything. he’s hardly a big threat to SATAN HIMSELF. regardless, satan decides the best way to rid himself of the ‘pollak situation’ is through… urine.

urine.

across the street from the van, satan pees all over the sidewalk. the unholy yellowness creeps across the ground, flowing under kevin’s van. satan then drops his cigarette into his own mess and…

it catches fire!

the flame flows towards the van, the van explodes, a police car blows up, and multiple buildings catch on fire. then satan makes this face in a 6 frame shot quickly cut into the previous barrage of explosions.

what is it with gabriel byrne and urinating? earlier in the movie, his introduction took place while using the restroom… and in the usual suspects his first scene begins… how? with kaiser soze pissing on some flames to put them out while gabriel watches. soze is referred to as “the devil himself”… yet his urine extinguishes fire. here it’s explosive. it’s all a bit confusing… is demon urine flammable or a flame-retardant? such are the deep theological questions that end of days forces you to confront.

in any case, this little bit of cinema made such an impression on me that i had to make a slow-motion animated gif out of it.

without further ado, i give you — gabriel byrne’s interpretation of how satan might look if his urine was used as a weapon.

not to be outdone by gabriel, arnold ups the ante further with faces like —

this and —

this.

that out of the way, he grabs the girl and skedaddles.

they run into the cops (who now appear to be moonlighting for satan) and arnold kills them all with guns he pulls from his sleeves all while making more silly faces.

sometimes in red.

they seek refuge in a church where apparently “satan cannot see.” then Father Exposition shows up and gives them the skinny. the number of the beast is not 666. you see, numbers in dreams are often upside down and backwards. the number is really 999. as in 1999. as in right now. as in we’re fucked.

every thousand years satan gets one chance to rape someone and take over the planet. that time is now, and it’s christine’s biblically pre-ordained uterus he needs.

we cut to a reaction shot from arnold and christine… and when we cut back the priest is holding an entirely different piece of paper with completely different handwriting. it’s like magic! but with less continuity.

so christine decides the priest and his magic paper are just too cool for school and she’s going to hang with them. arnold (he of little faith) thinks that’s a dumb idea. much like keith david in the thing, arnold ain’t buying this voodoo bullshit. he sums it up beautifully by telling the priest,

“between your faith and my glock nine millimeter, i’ll take the glock.”

so, arnold heads home. there he runs into satan who wants to know where his mystical sex toy is hiding. he tries bribing arnold by offering to give him his family back, but arnie ain’t dumb. He tries to scare satan off by looking —

like this and doing a —

little of this and —

finally by screaming at his own gun.

satan is not amused, and begins to pout.

now, try to imagine being gabriel byrne in this scene. you are a very talented actor, but to pull off a convincing performance as one of the classical figures of mythology, lucifer the morningstar himself, you need the actor opposite you to “give.” it’s a positive feedback loop… you bounce your acting off of each other until you both achieve something you couldn’t have done alone.

in this case, from gabriel’s perspective, i would imagine it’s a lot like playing handball against the drapes.

anyway, arnold tries to play tough-guy and calls satan a choir boy. satan’s reaction is —

predictable.

i haven’t seen dialogue like this since mamet’s early works…

satan: just tell me what you want.
jericho: i’ll tell you what I want. i want you to go to hell.
satan: well, you see, the problem is… sometimes hell comes to YOU!

then there’s some fighting and some yelling and some general unhappiness. next thing you know, old satan’s got the girl in his limousine and arnold is being crucified.

that’s really an image i could have lived forever without contemplating. it’s so ludicrious, it immediately made me think of that painting of christopher walken building robots…

as the movie continues, satan pulls a typical 007-type villain move and doesn’t actually kill arnold… and Father Exposition gets him down off the cross. arnold breaks in on satan’s make-out session and blows the crap out of everything with a rocket launcher. he grabs the girl and they high-tail it for the subway. satan decides to —

give one last goofy face before getting hit by a train.

he gets all busted up and so has to leave gabriel byrne’s body, leaving predator-satan to chase arnold and the girl to another church where the climatic final battle will occur.

admittedly — that’s kinda cool looking.

satan kicks arnold around a bit and then jumps in his belly. with only about 3 minutes before midnite, satan really hopes that arnold doesn’t have a lot of sexual stamina.

here you can see the subtle way that schwarzenegger coveys inner conflict and christine is obviously wondering why she didn’t sleep with satan back when he looked like gabriel byrne.

in order to avoid some really awkward post-coitus pillow talk, arnold looks at the statue of christ and (using his thus-far well-documented religious faith) pushes satan back… and throws himself at the nearest pointy object. hey, what’s a giant sword doing in a church anyway? i dunno, but they established it in a shot about 15 seconds earlier, so i guess it’s makes sense.

“yes, that went entirely according to plan.”

finally, arnold shoots fire out of his abs as satan leaps out of his body and returns to hell. arnold looks around, suddenly realizing that maybe if he hadn’t thrown himself on a sword and just waited 4 or 5 seconds for midnite to come around, he might not be in such agonizing pain at the moment.

god or jesus or something lets him see his wife and kid for a second before he drops dead. christine, in proper gracious fashion, touches his cold dead hand. and then i imagine she gets the hell out of there and goes back to her boring life of almost constantly not having sex with satan.

this final scene is the first time arnold, playing a human character, ever died in one his movies. apparently the original ending had jesus heal his wounds and he and christine walked off together (i am not making this up), but while watching this, the test screening audiences began throwing up in their mouths. a lot. so they changed it.

and thus ends peter hyams moralistic masterpiece. despite having no real religious affiliation, i can’t help but find the idea of arnold schwarzenegger as the last bastion of hope in the face of the unholy a bit blasphemous. none of the other characters (even the pope himself) could stand up to satan. and yet arnold is the one shining example of human morality and undeniable faith? that alone is almost enough to justify saying end of days is the worst film ever made. and if it’s not… well, i just have two words for you. exploding. urine.

Jon’s Top Ten Reasons Why You Should Love MASTERS OF HORROR

November 12, 2007

Posted by
Jon
jon@evilontwolegs.com

I’m assuming that if you’re reading this blog, then you’re a fan of horror films. I’m also going to assume that as a horror fan, you’ve at least heard of the television series Masters of Horror. Created in 2005 by Mick Garris, the idea behind the series is simple: to anthologize the rich diversity of contemporary horror by giving the best directors in the genre a substantial budget and one hour to do whatever they please. The first two seasons of Masters of Horror aired on Showtime to largely critical acclaim. Nonetheless, the show was cancelled in early 2007. The fate of Masters of Horror is uncertain, although Mick Garris has said that Lions Gate will fund a third season sometime in the future.

So if you haven’t heard of this series, then I have ten reasons why you should feel guilty for not watching it. But not to worry, you can see all of the current episodes on DVD. If you’ve already seen the series, then consider these to be ten reasons why you should be demanding a third season.

#10. “The Washingtonians,” directed by Peter Medak

The series has been noted for its controversial depictions of graphic sex and violence, but one of its other noteworthy characteristics is the way in which it uses horror as a metaphor for social issues and for our general cultural climate. In this installment from the second season, Peter Medak takes good old-fashioned American conspiracy theory to horrific new heights. It turns out that our founding fathers had a not-so-toothsome little secret, which their followers will kill to protect. The premise is outrageous and parodic and makes fun of conspiracy nuts who like to imagine that evil cabals are actually in charge of our government. It’s a lot of fun to watch. Think of it this way: this episode is the lovechild of X-Files creator Chris Carter and Cannibal Holocaust creator Ruggero Deodato.

#9. “Pelts,” directed by Dario Argento

Argento needs no introduction. His work has famously tranformed blood, gore and violence into aesthetic spectacles of sight, sound, and ritual. Argento’s “Pelts” (from season two) features a premise that shouldn’t work. Meat Loaf stars as fur trader and clothing designer who discovers a mystical race of raccoons (yes, I said raccoons) and decides to trap and kill them in order to make his crowning achievement – a hauntingly beautiful full-length fur coat. He does so not only to revitalize his floundering fur business, but also to impress an exotic dancer he’s become violently obsessed with. As I said, this ridiculous premise shouldn’t work, but it’s incredibly effective and functions as Grimm’s fairy tale in a modern setting. While Argento does allow, naturally, a good bit of camp, he presents this story with an intriguing blend of menace and esoteric ambience that somehow works. The soundtrack is brilliant and Meat Loaf plays his part with considerable skill in endowing his character with a kind of relentlessness worthy of Melville’s Ahab.

#8. “Pick Me Up,” directed by Larry Cohen

Not all of the premises for Masters of Horror are as unlikely or outrageous as “Pelts.” The idea behind “Pick Me Up,” which aired during the first season, is simple. What would happen if the villains from two different genres of horror films found themselves in the same movie? And no, I’m not talking about Jason Vs. Freddy. This is much more subtle and much more fun. In “Pick Me Up,” two iconic horror cliches (the hitchhiker maniac and the truck driver predator) finds themselves at odds as they compete for the equally iconic damsel-in-distress. All the while they wax philosophic about the key differences behind their approaches and methodology. Of course, this sort of meta-cinema borrows heavily from Scream, but the approach taken by Cohen is in some ways even more effective and amusing. This one’s an absolute must-see for even casual fans of the horror genre.

#7. “Deer Woman,” directed by John Landis

As with Argento, Landis needs no introduction. The legendary film director teams up with son Max in season one to present the most charming episode of the entire series. The story centers around Dwight Faraday, a hard-bellied, noir style detective who is down on his luck. As a cop, he’s been put out to pasture as an “animal detective,” which means he’s only given cases that somehow involve animals. He has a chance to jump-start his dead-end career when it turns out that a mysterious animal has been implicated in a series of strange and gruesome murders. Part cop movie, part comedy, part supernatural suspense, this episode (which, in this writer’s opinion, really should have been titled “A Native-American Deer Woman in New Jersey”) is simply too much fun to pass up.

#6. “Dreams in the Witch House,” directed by Stuart Gordon

Gordon has made a career out of adapting stories by H.P. Lovecraft. Re-Animator, From Beyond, and Dagon are all successful in capturing specific aspects of Lovecraft’s work. “Dreams in the Witchhouse,” which aired during the first season, is the most successful adaptation of Lovecraft’s subtle tone of ambient dread and eerie, atavistic menace. Based on Lovecraft’s story of the same name, Gordon’s film tells the story of Walter Gilman, a young student who unwittingly finds a portal to another world and falls victim to a demonic and seductive witch. As the two worlds overlap, Gilman becomes increasingly deranged and unsure of how (or even if he can) prevent himself from becoming both victim and perpetrator in the witch’s schemes.

#5. “Jenifer,” directed by Dario Argento, and “Imprint,” directed by Takashi Miike

I couldn’t settle on just one film for #5, so I have to call it a tie. Both of these films have one thing in common: they help justify Master of Horror’s reputation for being unabashedly graphic and for putting gore and sex back into horror films. “Jenifer,” from season one, is undoubtedly the most stomach-churning installment of either season. “Jenifer” is about a police detective, Frank Spivey, who takes pity on a horribly disfigured woman. He takes her into to his home, but this turns out to be much, much more than he or his family bargained for. Jenifer has an appetite for small dogs, cats, children, and just about anything else she can catch in her grotesquely large mouth and sharp, oversized teeth. Her monstrosity is punctuated by the fact that she is also strangely sexy and seductive. Her sexual appetite is equaled only by her voracious and horrifying literal appetite. She is, in other words, a nightmarish inversion of every man’s fantasy. Try as he might, Spivey cannot bring himself to get rid of her, which forces him to take increasingly drastic measures.

Miike is well known for his brilliant special effects that make you want to squirm in your seat. He also has a nearly fetishistic obsession with exquisitely painful and elaborate torture scenes. His “Imprint” is about, well, I don’t exactly know what it’s about. And neither will you. But if you haven’t seen it, don’t let that stop you. The story begins simply enough. It takes place in 19th century Japan where an American journalist is visiting one brothel after another iin search of his lost love who he left behind years earlier after vowing to return to her. He learns that she’s been working as a prostitute under a cruel and vicious madam and eventually finds the last person to see her alive. After that things get confusing. He finds that his beloved hasn’t exactly had a happy life in his absence as she was tortured nearly to death because the other prostitutes where jealous of her kindness and decency which eventually lead to her killing herself out of shame. He learns all of this from the woman who betrayed her, a monstrously deformed and psychotic victim of incest, brutality, and god only knows what else. And she has a talking hand growing out of the back of her head. Don’t ask me why. The cinematography is beautiful and lush, but the film is unsettling to the point of being nearly unwatchable. This episode was slated for season one, but was pulled for being too violent. That speaks volumes, given the nature of the series, but you can still easily find it on DVD. If you have a strong heart and plenty of intestinal fortitude, then you’ll find this episode to be baffling but intriguing. If you watch this, and think it all makes clear, perfect sense, then I have two comments: 1) you’re really scary, and 2) you really need to post a concise interpretation, as I’d love to understand it too.

#4. “Family,” directed by John Landis

Lohn Landis’ second installment in season two is more akin to Hitchcock’s Psycho than his odd and charming “Deer Woman.” “Family” is about Harold, a seemingly all-American family-man and good neighbor, brilliantly played by George Wendt (Norm, from “Cheers”). Norman Bates was so creepy because you just knew there was something sick behind that boy scout facade from the first minute he appeared on screen. Harold has the same quality. He has a goofy, 1950s quality about him that isn’t so much lovable as just unsettling. Harold’s family undergoes a crisis when he meets his new neighbors, a young husband and wife. Both families, it turns out, have a few skeletons in their closets. This episode also features some really great music. It’s creepy that Harold has such good taste in music, and even creepier perhaps that I found myself liking it too. Peter Bernstein, a long time Landis collaborator, did the soundtrack. The fact that Harold listens to really great old-time gospel music still puts a wicked smile on my face.

#3. “Sounds Like,” directed by Brad Anderson

Bran Anderson directs this episode in season two. It is arguably the most emotionally charged installment, reminiscent of his brilliant work in the film Session 9. “Sounds Like” is the story of a buttoned-up quality control agent who spends his days carefully monitoring the telephone conversations of the telemarketers who work for him. He can skillfully detect every nuance, every subtle variation in tone well enough to avert potential problems before they manifest over the phone. After the tragic death of his son, his gift increases exponentially, until his hearing becomes supernaturally acute, and eventually overwhelming. He finds it impossible to work, impossible to rebuild relationships with those around him, and impossible to maintain his composure. Instead, he becomes trapped in his own world where every banal detail is amplified and distorted, reminding him of his suffering and loss. He finally reaches his breaking point. “Sounds Like” is an intelligent and gripping study of the difficulty of recovering from a loss and the tragic depths to which our grief can take us.

#2. “Cigarette Burns,” directed by John Carpenter

I’ll argue that this is some of Carpenter’s finest work. It’s certainly one of the best episodes of Masters of Horror. The tone and tenor of the film is reminiscent of Lovecraft’s “In the Mouth of Madness” and The Ninth Gate, a gesture I take as deliberate since this is a film explicitly and self-referentially about the horror genre. “Cigarette Burns” is about a connoisseur of rare films who goes on the trail of the long lost and infamous film La Fin Absolue du Monde (The Absolute End of the World), a horror film so pure and so perfect that it inevitably drives its audience insane. Legend has it that the film derives its attraction and power from that fact that the director filmed an actual angel being de-winged. Cigarette Burns” is an intelligent and daring film that asks such questions as: Why do we watch horror films? What sort of faith do we put in them, or in the directors who make them, to scare us but not to truly scar us? What is the role of film and art? Should we seek the angelic and the spiritual, or admit that we’d prefer to revel in the infernal and the spectacular? There are plenty of episodes in the Masters of Horror series that offer old-fashioned and unapologetic cinematic spectacle, and I love them. Carpenter’s installment achieves this, too, but it also forces you to ask yourself why you love it.

#1. “The Black Cat,” directed by Stuart Gordon

Everything about “The Black Cat,” from season two, is brilliant. Gordon co-wrote the story, which cleverly surmises how Edgar Allan Poe might have found his inspiration for his famous short story “The Black Cat.” The premise will be of interest to fans of Poe, but also interesting in its exploration of the creative process, and the sacrifices it demands. Jeffrey Combs plays Poe, and this is his best work since Re-Animator, and perhaps of his entire career. His version of Poe as a tormented, but loving and concerned husband is thoroughly convincing and fun to watch. This episode proves that Gordon not only has a gift for set design and special effects, but a brilliant gift for pacing and establishing tone. The film is both convincingly 19th century while also uncanny and menacing. Poe was a pioneer in the art of the short story and its structure of gradual exposition, sudden climax, and emotional catharsis. Gordon not only captures the mood of a Poe story, but this particular pacing as well. The entire Masters of Horror series would be worth it for this one episode alone.

RE: Your Brains

November 6, 2007

Posted by
Corey
corey@evilontwolegs.com

jonathan coulton is getting a lot of attention lately for writing perhaps the catchiest ending song for any video game ever (still alive for portal, perhaps the only perfect game ever created). however, he also has a lot of other great songs such as tom cruise crazy and code monkey… but for me, you can’t beat the song below. which is lucky, since it’s the only one of the songs with a horror theme.

Jonathan Coulton
RE: Your Brains

Review of EYES OF A STRANGER (1981)

November 4, 2007

Posted by
Jon
jon@evilontwolegs.com

corey’s review…

eyes of a stranger is the most generic thriller i’ve ever seen. neither good nor bad, it actually takes a bit of effort after watching it to remember that you’ve seen it as absolutely no aspect of the film makes either a positive or negative impression. if friday the 13th were a piece of devil’s food cake, this film would be a small bowl of vanilla pudding. if halloween were a cherry red ferrari, this film would be a tan colored four-door sedan. i’ve always been aware of eyes of a stranger, but for some reason have never actually sat down to watch it. despite its rather interesting cover art, the utter blandness of the film itself makes me think that years from now i’ll see its dvd case again and think much what i thought last night before putting it in… “why have i never seen this movie?”

eyes of a stranger is essentially a blending of the most boring parts of maniac, rear window and wait until dark. stealing equally from all three, the story features a sexually repressed, overweight and blubbering rapist and murderer , a reporter and amateur sleuth who spots the killer from her apartment balcony in the adjoining building and an attractive blind girl who faces off with the sighted killer in the film’s climax. the tone owes more to hitchcock than the average slasher film but, thanks to tom savini, it manages some graphic death sequences (but even the best of these rank far below average when compared to savini’s other work during the same period).

the potential victims in this particular film have two very big advantages over most slasher film characters. to begin with, the killer is not really the most intimidating of slashers. sure, he does behead a guy and almost shot-for-shot recreates the car death from halloween… but mostly what he does is giggle in way that doesn’t really scare you as much as just make you kind of embarrassed. part of the reason for his ineffectiveness has to lie in his name. krueger. myers. voorhees. those are the kinds of names you want if you’re an unstoppable killing machine. the name you don’t want is the one from eyes of stranger… stanley herbert.

secondly, the characters in this movie are way ahead of the game as stanley’s fear-inducing object of choice is not a chainsaw or machete — it’s a telephone. while i’ll admit that creepy phone calls can cause a bit of fear (e.g., black christmas), telephones are much easier to flee from than one might initially think. then again, at one point stanley finds a way to make the phone in the elevator ring while a girl is trying to escape to a friend’s house, which i’m fairly certain is impossible unless he found his way into the elevator engineer’s room in the building.

the final scene of the film with jennifer jason leigh (who is just cute as a button in the role of the blind and deaf sister of the super-annoying amateur detective character) facing off against the killer is the highlight of the film. the scene actually reaches some level of effectiveness and originality as the killer moves the plates and knife around as the confused blind girl attempts to cut a piece of cake. unfortunately, the scene quickly falls apart leading to a rather ridiculous conclusion. the earlier parts of the film occasionally work such as a scene where the killer’s face is pressed against a shower door (creepy!) and the previously mentioned beheading, but the film gets bogged down in tedious dialogue exchanges about mud evidence and cuckoo clocks (don’t ask).

to me though, the oddest scene occurs towards the end of the film as stanley breaks his prank-caller m.o. and follows a stripper to her club in hopes of killing her. i understand this film was made in the early 80s and i am no expert on the history of exotic dancing, but some innate knowledge in my lone y chromosome tells me that at no point in history has a strip club owner decided that the dance shown below is what its patrons are clamoring for. (hover over video to see play controls)

Eyes of a Stranger (1981)

jon’s review…

I should like Eyes of a Stranger. The special effects, though relatively few in number, are handled by Tom Savini with his typical skill. Plus, the film features some solid performances by its actors, and the film’s overall direction and premise are mostly interesting, even if a bit shopworn. Lauren Tewes, of The Love Boat fame, plays Jane Harris, the film’s heroine. Jane is a spunky, cute, but melodramatic news reporter determined to save Tracy, her blind and mute sister, from Stanley Herbert, a dangerous psychopath who has been stalking and murdering women in their neighborhood. Jennifer Jason Leigh successfully portrays Tracy as an interesting and sympathetic victim. And Stanley, as played by John DiSanti, is both garden-variety geek and savage maniac, a combination that makes him all the more unsettling. The final confrontation between Tracy and Stanley is especially gripping. The film’s director, Ken Wiederhorn, obviously did his homework and studied how Hitchcock builds suspense by carefully choosing to let the audience know what the central characters do not. Stanley is often inches away from the oblivious Tracy, and he adds to the torment by snatching objects away from her just as she reaches for them. Likewise, the fact that much of the final sequence is filmed with natural sound and no soundtrack (another trick borrowed from Hitchcock) helps build the tension. The final sequence is conceptually interesting as well. Tracy regains her sight and blinds Stanley, thus reversing (if only momentarily) their roles as predator and prey. This is also borrowed from Hitchcock. But I can forgive that one, too. If you’re going to steal, you might as well steal from the very best. I’ll say it again. I should like this film.

But I don’t. And it bothers me. Why doesn’t this film work? I spent a good deal of time thinking about this question as I watched it. For instance, how in the world could I end up not liking Jane? As I said before, she’s cute, she’s spunky, she’s got some interesting skeletons in her closet, she’s well intentioned, and she’s genuinely concerned for her sister. And I absolutely do not like her. Somehow, her determination and sense of tragedy come across as, well, childish and whiny. She has the incredibly annoying habit of interrupting her co-workers in the middle of their on-air reports in order to chastise them for not taking Stanley Herbert as seriously as she does. She pouts and she mopes her way through the film. It really frustrates me that the film makes me not like her at all.

The film also frustrates me in the way that it can’t seem to settle on just what sort of film it really wants to be. It’s a mishmash of several genres. This, in itself, is not a bad thing. Tarantino has made a brilliant career out of creating hybrid films. I love the way From Dusk ‘Til Dawn is part action film, part buddy movie, and part vampire flick. Somehow that combination works. At the very least, it’s good, cheap fun. Eyes of a Stranger is part Maniac, part Rear Window, part Wait Until Dark, part Perry Mason, and part Nancy Drew Mysteries. This combination, I’ve come to realize, does not work.

For instance, nothing is gained by the inclusion of David, Jane’s lawyer boyfriend. His only role in the film is to periodically and austerely remind Jane that she has no real case against Stanley and that her evidence would never hold up in court. He’d have a point, I suppose, if there were an actual trial involved. But Jane’s simply trying to look out for her sister, not prepare a legal brief for the grand jury. Early on in the film, I could tolerate David because I assumed his objections were meant to remind the audience that Stanley might not actually be the killer, and we should therefore keep our wits about us and try to figure things out. But the film spoils that potential by revealing Stanley to be the killer in the first half of the film. This makes David’s constant pestering both tedious and unnecessary. One could argue, I suppose, that David is meant to heighten the film’s tension in that he is emblematic of the fact that nobody takes Jane seriously. Hitchcock does this brilliantly in Rear Window. Nobody believes that Jeff has seen an actual murder. But Hitchcock makes this all the more gripping and tense in the way that Jeff’s character constantly evolves and shifts between charming but nosy neighbor to disturbed and paranoid voyeur. Wiederhorn’s attempt at this kind of complexity fails because David and Jane are simply too one-dimensional and their characters are too often out of place in this film. David pretty much sums this up when he reminds Jane that “I can’t stop being an attorney. You can’t stop being a reporter.” It’s frustrating.

This kind of generic simplicity is also apparent when Jane turns into Nancy Drew. The film invests too much time away from the potentially gripping and far more complex story of Stanley and Tracy, and too much time instead on Jane’s Scooby-Doo sleuthing. In Rear Window, Jeff cracks the case, so to speak, through sheer luck and persistent, nearly pathological voyeurism. Jane cracks the case by snooping out such clues as the fact that Stanley has a bloody shirt, a cuckoo clock, and a pair of muddy shoes, the latter of which she manages to snatch away in her junior-detective style evidence bag to present to the still incredulous David.

I like Rear Window. I like Maniac. I even like Scooby-Doo. But they don’t work well together. Eyes of a Stranger is still worthwhile, if only for the final sequence. And it’s not exactly a bad film. It’s far more puzzling than that. It’s one of those rare films that makes you dislike it even when you really don’t want to.

note: this article was written for the final girl film club. see more reviews of “eyes of a stranger” there… as well as all the other fantabulous-ness that is stacie’s final girl blog.

Video Nasties – Monsters Edition

November 2, 2007

Posted by
Corey
corey@evilontwolegs.com

a few weeks ago we featured an article showcasing some of the video artwork from the so-called ‘video nasty’ era (see my previous article or wikipedia for historical context). well, it’s time to take a look at some more covers … and this time it’s all monster movies! please click the covers for larger versions (which will amaze and astound you by popping up in an ultra-cool overlay window).

if the werewolf is this terrifying, we can only imagine what the yeti looks like. i thought this was romantic comedy until i saw that the two title characters will be involved in ‘deadly combat.’

i really want to know what this guy is looking at that’s got him so riled up. also… does that woman have three arms?

i just love this film’s title. i’m also quite fond of the likeness of the snowman… he seems to be saying “hey, sorry about your picture frame, friend. this light just got in my eye and i lost my footing… i’ll clean it right up.” also… um… i question the intelligence of the college students mentioned given their apparent choice of geographic areas to conduct their search for a yeti. i haven’t seen this film but i’m certain it contains a scene where the college kids are confronted by a group of criminals who ask “what are you doing here on our island?” to which the kids undoubtedly reply… “looking for the abominable snowman.”

this cover really isn’t all that bad, although neither the ‘land of the lost’ homage nor the monster with jazz hands makes me want to go search this film out.

rarely do you hear the phrase ‘sir run run shaw presents inseminoid.’ i’m not sure what’s going on in that picture, but i’m sure it’s scandalous. i question the yellow ‘x’ that seems out of place (is that part of the title or the rating?)… and in particular, i’m annoyed by the poor use of pronouns as our alien cassanova goes from a ‘he’ to an ‘it’ in the same sentence.

sandy cobe seems a bit pretentious to demand his own badly drawn trapezoid, but apart from that… i like this cover.

*sigh*
that ‘n’ should really be capitalized. also… JOHN AGAR.

i suppose they called it that because this was already taken.

the guy in this picture seems more interested in that girl’s frazetta-esque derriere than in the giant blue occult barrier about to smoosh him.

i actually own this film. those teeth are pretty cool. the movie is not.

there are few people in my life that i trust enough to watch beast with.
be glad you are not one of them.

generally considered one of the few films to actually deserve its inclusion on the nasty list, this is the description i found of this film’s plot…

gruesome killing & cannibalism including stomping on the bellies of pregnant women so as to snack on their fetuses. as a finale, the beast dies after eating his own intestines.

andy warhol once said, “the only thing scarier than udo kier is udo kier with a heart on a pike.”

eyes of a stranger

November 2, 2007

Posted by
Corey
corey@evilontwolegs.com

note: this article was written for the final girl film club. see more reviews of “eyes of a stranger” there… as well as all the other fantabulous-ness that is stacie’s final girl blog.

Jon’s Top Ten Halloween Album Countdown

October 23, 2007

Posted by
Jon
jon@evilontwolegs.com

Everyone knows that Halloween is the holiday for fans of horror films. Aside from that unluckiest of days, Friday the 13th, no other time of the year inspires so much cinematic blood and gore. However, Halloween has a rich musical tradition as well. In fact, I’ll wager that Halloween has not only inspired better films than any other holiday, it has also inspired better music. How many of us can actually listen to Christmas songs year round? There’s only so much jingle-bell schmaltz and choirs of heralding angels you can take before you want to hear some good old-fashioned devil music. To this end, Evil on Two Legs is proud to recommend the following albums that every horror and music fan alike should own. You’ll enjoy them no matter the occasion, but they’re especially appropriate for Halloween.

#10. “La Sexorcisto – Devil Music Vol. 1” (1992), by White Zombie

Before he directed House of a 1,000 Corpses, The Devil’s Rejects, and the 2007 remake of Halloween, Rob Zombie did what Rob Zombie does best: he made weird, but kick-ass music. Horror fans know that Zombie’s music is a testament to the golden age of horror films, as evident in the fact that White Zombie took it’s name from the 1932 film starring Bela Lugosi. But, more importantly, his music will make even horror fans with two-left feet want to dance. Credited for helping put the groove back into hardcore metal, White Zombie’s debut album is guaranteed to make your Halloween more fun. So if you need a break during the middle of your Nightmare on Elm Street marathon, play the song “Thunderkiss ’65.” But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Your guests might want to forget the films and go-go dance 1960’s style the rest of the night instead.

#9. “Beware, The Complete Singles 77 – 82” (1982), by The Misfits

Before Glen Danzig formed the band Danzig, he was front-man for the world’s scariest and hardest-working horror band, The Misfits. But behind all the chains, blood, leather, strange hair, and theatrics, Glen Danzig is actually a talented musician. He can croon as sweetly as Sinatra while confessing that he’s just committed murder. That’s no small feat. He also has considerable range as a musician. Songs such as “Hollywood Babylon” pulse with hard-boild, noir-ish menace, while “Teenagers From Mars” is just plain silly fun. He also sings what just might be the world’s greatest tribute to Halloween in the appropriately titled song “Halloween.” If you don’t believe me, let me provide a small sample of the song’s lyrics:

Bonfires burning bright,
Pumpkin faces in the night,
I remember Halloween.

Dead cats hanging from poles,
Little dead are out in droves,
I remember Halloween.

The Misfits are creepy, a little bit dangerous, and actually quite funny. You’ll scare yourself silly listening to them. If that’s not perfect for Halloween, then I don’t know what is.

#8. “Sewertime Blues / Don’t Touch the Bang Bang Fruit” (1987), by The Meteors

As with the Misfits, The Meteors are a band that are not for the faint of heart. Their claim to fame is being the world’s only truly authentic psychobilly band (“psychobilly” is that musical genre that brings together punk, horror, and rockabilly). The original members of The Meteors performed as both a rockabilly and punk rock act before forming The Meteors. And they’ve also made horror films. The songs on this album are loads of fun. But be warned. The Meteors are high energy and one tough band. They’ve been known to bloody themselves on stage and dive into the audience “wrecking ball” style. “Sewertime Blues / Don’t Touch the Bang Bang Fruit” is a double-album that features the band at their very best. Songs such as “Your Worst Nightmare,” “Sewertime Blues,” “Midnight People,” and “I Bury the Living” will definitely make you feel both scared and scarred this Halloween.

#7. “Halloween Hits” (1991), by Various Artists.

If listening to The Misfits and The Meteors makes you fearful that those bands might actually drive to your house and beat you to a pumpkin-orange pulp, you can always tone things down a bit with this compilation of classic Halloween party favorites. I promise you that this album is absolutely grandma friendly. The album features oldies such as “Monster Mash,” “The Purple People Eater,” and the always crowd-pleasing “Ghostbusters” by Ray Parker, Jr.

#6. “Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas – Special Edition Soundtrack” (2006), by Danny Elfman and Various Artists

I could go on and on about how much I love Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. It’s sweet, it’s creepy, it’s Burton at his very best. It’s a Halloween classic. This recently re-released soundtrack features all the original songs from the film, plus excellent covers by post-punk and goth bands such as Marilyn Manson, Fall Out Boy, Fiona Apple, and She Wants Revenge. “Sally’s Song” as performed by Fiona Apple is especially riveting. She captures the wistful mood of the film perfectly, and it’ll also help put you in good Halloween cheer.

#5. “Halloween 20th Anniversary Edition – Original Motion Picture Soundtrack” (1998), by John Carpenter

How could I not include this one? But it’s much more than a token gesture. The songs on this album are beautifully re-mastered. The soundtrack also includes choice dialogue and sound clips from the film that punctuate the songs perfectly and add to the overall ambient effect. Be sure to listen to the “Halloween Theme” and “The Boogie Man is Outside” with your lights off and your Halloween pumpkin a-glow. If that doesn’t send chills down your spine, I’ll refund your money.

#4. “Carmina Burana” (1935), by Carl Orff

The German composer Carl Orff based “Carmina Burana” on the medieval collection of poems of the same name. But don’t let that dissuade you. The Middle Ages took their charms, chants, curses, torture and demons very seriously. Listening to “Carmina Burana” is like listening to the soundtrack for the apocalypse. The first bit of the composition has been famously included in such films as Excalibur and The Doors. But it’s really better suited for building late-night Halloween ambience.

#3. “Songs the Lord Taught Us” (1980), by The Cramps

I know what you’re probably thinking. 1980…the popularity of disco hasn’t quite died yet, and Pat Benetar is just about to take off. However, The Cramps slithered their way beneath the mainstream radar for most of the early 80’s, leaving a radioactive goo of some wonderful music in their wake. “Songs the Lord Taught Us” is arguably their opus, with songs that combine rock ‘n roll pomp and sex appeal, with heavy doses of B-film camp. And their lead guitarist, Poison Ivy, simply rocks. Songs from this album include “I Was a Teenage Werewolf,” “Teenage Goo-Goo Muck,” “Zombie Dance” and “Behind the Mask.” If you feel like doing the “King-Kong Stomp” all night long this Halloween, then this album is for you.

#2. “A Night on Bald Mountain” (1887), by Modest Mussorgsky

This is arguably the most frantic music ever composed. It’s what I imagine the poor chap in Munch’s painting “The Scream” must be hearing inside his head. Mussorgsky described his composition as a “tone poem” that creates emotional upheaval and produces both visual and aural responses from the audience. He based this music on stories from Russian folklore involving witches, devil-worship, and other tales of the infernal. Don’t be fooled by the fact that Disney appropriated some of this composition for Fantasia. This is creepy stuff.

#1. “A-haunting We Will Go-Go” (1998), by The Ghastly Ones

Not only is this one of the best southern California surf albums ever recorded, it is absolutely required listening for any fan of horror films. Discovered by Rob Zombie in 1997, the band is comprised of Baron Shivers on drums, Dr. Lehos on lead guitar, Sir Go-Go Ghastly on bass, Captain Clegg on organ, and Necrobella as go-go dancer. Their sound is part surf-punk, part rockabilly, and 100% ghastly fun. The album features a loose narrative in which the band, while on the road between gigs, discovers the lair of the evil Dr. Diablo. Can they escape from his evil clutches and thwart his nefarious schemes? You’ll have to listen to the album to find out. In addition to an entertaining story and some very fine music, the album features plenty of guest appearances by zombies, werewolves, vampires, and evil space robots. Trust me on this. You need this album to make your Halloween complete. But if you don’t believe me, check out the band’s website.

Happy Halloween!

Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving

October 22, 2007

Posted by
Corey
corey@evilontwolegs.com

i was watching planet terror the other night, which reminded me of how much i loved eli roth’s faux slasher trailer thanksgiving. if you were hoping to see it again on either the planet terror or death proof dvds… i’m afraid you’re out of luck, as it appears (with the exception of machete) that all of the faux trailers that appeared in grindhouse were removed. however, i’m fairly certain that in the coming months the weinstein’s will double-dip and release an uber edition of grindhouse with the entirety of the experience intact. until then, you can rewatch the trailer here…

also… eli apparently enjoyed making thanksgiving so much that he’s making a full length film comprised almost entirely of fake trailers titled trailer trash.

Horror Podcasts

October 22, 2007

Posted by
Corey
corey@evilontwolegs.com

i’ve listened to dozens of horror related podcasts and it seems that there are very few worth listening to. luckily there are two out there that i simply can’t recommend highly enough.

night of the living podcast is hosted by a fluctuating (but always large) group of friends in ohio. despite the number of people, the quality of the broadcast makes it so you never feel overwhelmed. freddy and amy are particularly entertaining, but the entire group is extremely knowledgeable and funny. the podcasts can run quite long as they often get sidetracked into personal stories or long discussions, but these are often the best bits and well worth your time.

the reel horror podcast is run by two guys in los angeles both named mike, better known as “too sensitive” and “the show.” this podcast is often shorter and more focused than notlp, but just as entertaining. i’ve often embarrassed myself by laughing out loud in my office when “the show” tell stories of celebrity sitings and his odd (and often cringe-inducing) interactions with them.

if you give either of these a listen or have suggestions of others that i may have missed, please leave a comment!

A Secret History of American Cinema

October 19, 2007

Posted by
Jon
jon@evilontwolegs.com

“Draw to one point, and to one
centre bring Beast, man, or angel, servant, lord, or king.”
–Alexander Pope, from “An Essay on Man”

“It’s like death on a cracker!"
–Choptop, from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2

“The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetic
subject in the world"
–Edgar Allan Poe, from “Essays on Composition”

When Edgar Allan Poe famously declared that nothing is more poetic than the death of a beautiful woman, he did not simply mean that poetry is voyeuristic or an act of sublime spectacle. He intended his statement to be a corrective on the crabbed, stuffy poetry being produced by the likes of such neo-classical poets as Alexander Pope. In particular, Poe disagreed with Pope’s argument that poetry should reflect the virtues of a “Golden Age” populated by iconic shepherds. In his “Essay on Criticism,” Pope explained that poets are “not to describe shepherds as shepherds at this day really are, but as they may be conceived then to have been when the best of men followed the employment.” He envisioned a utopian garden in which poetry could unite man and best, angel and devil. Lute-playing Shepherds in gardens of perpetual spring who sing and pitch woo in perfectly measured dactylic hexameter may be the stuff Poetry (that’s with a capital P), but not, Poe would later insist, the stuff of real poetry—an art form that strips language and meaning down to its unaccommodated and fundamental nature. For Poe, this fundamental nature is, to put it eloquently, the death of a beautiful woman; or more bluntly, it is sex and death. Poe helped orient poetry away from the pretentious fictions of a golden age and instead toward the truer, albeit darker heart of the human condition. He called for an art without pretense, an art that would not shy away from voyeurism, exploitation, spectacle, and the twin principles of attraction and repulsion that have been the foundation for all of our glorious as well as inglorious history. Sex and death, love and war. Poetry lays bare our most human of impulses.

Fifty years later, at the turn of the century, Thomas Edison would offer the same corrective for the newly invented medium of film. The first exhibited films on record, all from the late 19^th century, were little more than curious parlor tricks that would adorn store-front windows or serve as two-minute intermissions during vaudeville acts. They were patently genteel, tame, and boring. The 1888 film entitled Roundhay Garden Scene by Luis le Prince is credited as being the first actual “film” and features, as one might imagine, a garden scene in which the actors (if one can call them that) briefly walk across a richly decorated yard and laugh. Likewise, the films of the famous Lumiere brothers from the same period typically feature gardens, fountains and other scenes of bourgeoisie bliss. When not inventing light bulbs, Edison was the consummate salesman who understood that spectacle, as much as ingenuity, fuels the American economy. His first films, some of the earliest in America, gave consumers what they really wanted: sex and death. Consider the first titles he produced: Muscle Dancer (1894), Ella Lola, Turkish Dancer (1898) The Electrocution of an Elephant (1903), and Frankenstein (1910, directed by J. Searle Dawley). With his emphasis on voyeurism and spectacle, as well as other forms of visual attraction and repulsion, Edison helped transform film from a polite and gimmicky storefront distraction into a nascent form of American cinema that would eventually evolve into the modern day horror film, particularly those that appeal to the more primitive impulses of the spectacle. The history of American cinema is, in other words, a history of the slasher film.

For instance, consider the particularly strange, but ultimately canny, logic behind the sequence of his first films. Edison’s first two films (Muscle Dancer and Ella Lola, Turkish Dancer) are pure exploitation. Both are under one minute in length, but feature enough gyrating flesh to satisfy even the most insatiable voyeur.

Edison, I would argue, understood the innately exotic appeal of the moving picture. Not content to film pretty, but static English-style gardens, Edison instead offers an aesthetic that visually moves both its subject and its audience. And part of the appeal of Edison’s first films, aside from the gratuitous flesh, is precisely this invitation to shamelessly gape at what is at once familiar to us (the human body) as well as strange (belly-dancing and body-building were still exotic occurrences at the turn of the century). In other words, both of Edison’s first films mix the eroticism of old-fashioned sex appeal with a sense of the unfamiliar. Both the Muscle Dancer and Ella Lola are seductive, but also strange enough to be unsettling.

The same kind of binary impulse is at work (albeit more aggressively) in classic slasher films, as evident in the images below.

The first image (a poster for the 1983 film The House on Sorority Row) features a depiction of Kate McNeil in a pose that is both seductive and menacing. She is on display as both odalisque and sacrificial object. The second image (a poster for the 1987 Sorority House Massacre) depicts a voyeuristic killer (a staple of the slasher genre). The killer watches his victim as she undresses. We watch them both. As their posters suggest, both of these films invite us to gape, even if doing so is as ultimately deplorable as it is pleasurable. We are invited to share in the slasher’s guilty and unsettling act of voyeurism, becoming both his victim and his accomplice. This is the logic of the spectacle. They attract and satisfy even as they horrify us. For instance, film critics have routinely called attention to the fact that slasher villains—from Michael Myers to Freddy Krueger—often play the dual role of psychokiller and moral avenger. They kill off the least likable and most morally corrupt characters first and spare the virtuous “final girl,” who in turn defeats the slasher This is an ambivalence that moves the audience in several directions at once. And taken together, the images above underscore this mixture of attraction and repulsion that defines both the slasher and Edison’s early aesthetic of the spectacle.

Edison’s 1903, The Death of an Elephant, marks an advance in the early development of this aesthetic.

This disturbing film depicts the real-life execution of Topsy, a Coney Island elephant that turned dangerously, violently rogue. Edison filmed the event as an attempt to discredit Westinghouse and Tesla, his rivals in the commercial development of electricity. As a marketing ploy, Westinghouse and Tesla suggested the use of their patented Alternating Current system of electricity as a humane and practical mode for executing the elephant. Edison decided to film the event as an attempt to market his own Direct Current by dramatizing the dangers of AC. Edison’s film failed as advertising propaganda and AC became the standard. However, once released, The Electrocution of an Elephant became a sensation and helped popularize the still-new medium of film while generating considerable profit for the struggling Edison Manufacturing Company. The spectacle of the electrocution, it turns out, was actually good for both business and film.

Of course, the fact that such a film could generate so much revenue is startling, and perhaps shameful, even if it documents what was intended to be a humane solution to an unfortunate problem. But it also points to several incontrovertible facts: 1) people love spectacle and will pay to see it; 2) cinema, as Edison proved, is a natural medium for spectacle; and 3) we are fooling ourselves if we think that we, or the art of film, can (or perhaps even should) be beyond this. Sex and death, dance and disease – these are innately human impulses.

Edison’s recently recovered 1910 version of Frankenstein, which he used to revitalize his newly established film studio, is both an important monument in cinematic history, as well as a near-perfect synthesis of the impulses of attraction-repulsion that Edison sought to develop in the spectacles of his early films.

Of course, Whale’s 1931 Frankenstein established the iconic version of the monster with its bulging neck bolts and big shoes. But Edison’s version is not only truer to Mary Shelley’s concept of the creature, but also contains some of the roots for the horror genre’s more exploitative and subversive offspring. For instance, Whale’s version establishes the conventional fire-and-pitchfork ending of the classic monster movie. The creature is a fiend, an inhuman abomination who must be destroyed and who warrants only the thinnest amount of sympathy or attraction. Edison’s version, on the other hand, features a surprise ending in which it is implied that Victor Frankenstein and his creature are actually one and the same, or at least mirror images of each other. At the conclusion of Edison’s film, the creature gapes at its image in a mirror before vanishing, leaving only the mirror images. Victor enters the room and sees the creature’s after-image in the mirror before it transforms into his own. The implication is that when Victor (and by extension the audience) gapes in horror at the creature, he also gapes at his own monstrosity. Roger Ebert has pointed out that the influence of the slasher film has led to an increased use of a subjective point-of-view that encourages audiences to identify, albeit uncomfortably, with the slasher. But the influence originates further back in film history. Unlike Whale’s Frankenstein, Edison’s 1910 version is not a monster movie. It belongs, along with the slasher films that would arrive more than half a century later, in the darker, older heart of cinema where monsters are our kindred spirits.

Edison is exploiting the newly fashionable field of Freudian psychoanalysis with its emphasis on the dual nature of the human mind in order to make a buck, but he’s also establishing the foundations for American cinema. An emphasis on this sort of crude dual psychology has been the feature of American films from Birth of a Nation to Beetlejuice. Born out of an ingenious capitalist’s penchant for spectacle, American cinema has always derived its appeal from an unapologetic exploration of the seemly and the unseemly, the attractive and the uncanny. That this binary of attraction and repulsion finds its perfection in the iconic struggle between the knife-wielding killer and the nubile college co-ed is therefore hardly surprising. But it still irks film critics such as James Berardinelli, who insists that the cheap exploitation of From Dusk ‘Til Dawn might be “great fun, but not great art.” His assumption is that real art can’t involve such cheap thrills and chills. Poe would say otherwise. The history of American film suggests otherwise as well. American film does not hark back to a lost Golden Age, nor does it unite man and beast, as Pope would undoubtedly have it. Poe insisted that poetry is the raw stuff of love and hate, lust and loathing. These are the same impulses that get us into theater seats. Art doesn’t necessarily make us angels. Edison knew this dirty little secret, too. At its roots, American film is slasher film.