Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 45 – A Werewolf Boy

Coming from the same list of recommended Korean flicks that brought The Wig and A Tale of Two Sisters to my attention, alongside many others, is A Werewolf Boy.  Gotta agree with Heather, the recommender in question, that the title very nearly had me steering away from this film.  I mean, come on, “A Werewolf Boy“?  Sounds like a Nickelodeon original joint that would come out around Hallowe’en and be enjoyed by, like, twelve kids out there (remember The Boy Who Cried Werewolf?  Barely?  Yup, that sort o’ thing.)

The story follows a young girl whose family has moved to the country to help her deal with a chronic lung condition.  They’re being financially aided by the son of the family’s late patriarch’s former business partner, who proceeds to act like the rich jackass you’ve probably already assumed him to be (including constantly reinforcing the nausea-inducing idea of an arranged marriage to our central girl, despite her similarly constant objections).  One day, they come across a feral boy (he’s obviously a teenager, like the girl, but the word “boy” seems appropriate), who appears to have been raised by wolves.  I guess.  Unable to house him through governmental services (this is shortly after the Korean War, I should mention, and the authorities believe him to be a war orphan), the family takes him in, much to the girl’s chagrin.  She’s initially standoffish toward her new family member, refusing to even eat with him (kinda understandable, as he just gobbles up everything within reach, anyway).  But she eventually comes up with the idea to try and train him, using methodologies from a dog-training manual.  This works surprisingly well, and the two grow close as time goes on and the girl lowers her emotional shields.  Things turn sideways, though, when Rich Jackass tries to frame the boy for some dastardly deeds, eventually getting scientists and the military involved, what with the apparent lycanthropy and all.  Some people, y’know?

The film reads as a thoroughly softened version of The Woman (minus the Vantablack comedy and commentary, natch) mixed with a Twilight fanfic that had Bella initially fall in love with Jacob, relegating Edward to third-wheel status.  The concept is slightly hackneyed, a replay of all sorts of children’s media throughout the ages, and is even given a visual style not wholly unlike a fairy tale: soft focus rules the day, and much of the light is overexposed, giving everything a dreamy, fantasy feel.  Granted, part of this likely has to do with the fact that the main narrative arc is told via flashback, but even parts of the framing device have this visual style to them.

Speaking of, the framing bits are the weakest part, if I’m gonna be honest.  I understand the opening helps set things up and the ending closes an erstwhile open plot strand, but it just draws on too long, and the opening is rendered mostly moot by the following exposition in the flashback.  This is just the primary example of the film’s pacing issues, which have many scenes just take too long to wrap up.  Admittedly, the slightly drawn-out connection between our protagonists helps provide a sense of realism in the budding pairing, but the other saggy scenes can’t point to this as an excuse.  Luckily, the acting is solid, the direction is mostly tight for an unseasoned director (this was Jo Sung-hee’s major film debut), and the whole production felt worthwhile.

It may not be a fearsome werewolf film, but A Werewolf Boy has plenty of heart.  Give it a go if you’d like a trip to the softer side of the lycanthropes’ universe.

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 44 – Phenomena

To quote the sub-header on Wikipedia: “Not to be confused with Phenomenon“, the film starring John Travolta as a schmuck who develops great intelligence, clairvoyance, and telekinesis after a mysterious encounter with some astral, well, phenomenon.  (For the record, I don’t hate the film, in fact I love the idea, but the execution was sappy and saccharine as hell, and the film went on waaaay too long for its own good.)  Gotta love it.

But it’s true, you shouldn’t confuse Phenomenon with Dario Argento’s 1985 offering Phenomena.

Just like last time we encountered Argento (remember Tenebre?), we’ve got a giallo film on our hands, but one with a supernatural bent.  See, the story is set at and around a Swiss boarding school for girls, a former home of composer Richard Wagner (whom the exposition refers to as “Richard Wagner”, the first syllable of the last name being the act of a happy or excited dog’s tail, ’cause why try, right?).  There’s been a string of murders in the area, but we’ll get to that later.  For the time being, we find out that not only does our newest student – the daughter of a famous actor – have a habit of sleepwalking, but she also seems to have the ability to telepathically control insects.  She makes friends, so to speak, with a local forensic entomologist, who just so happens to have a helper chimp (sadly not named Mojo).  As the murders continue alongside the girl’s increasingly erratic-looking behavior (yeah, I’d probably react negatively toward someone who could summon a sky-filling swarm of flies, call me an asshole), there’s suspicion that she’s behind the killings, possibly a manifestation of her powers while sleepwalking.  Insert tussling and revelations, the usual trappings of giallo, just with some occasional insect telepathy tossed in for good measure.

I’m not entirely sure why I keep giving Dario Argento so many second chances.  Likely his most well-regarded film, Suspiria, was downright unwatchable for me, and would have just been some kind of Ken Russell-by-way-of-Italian-exploitation exercise were it not for the sumptuous use of color and otherwise striking visuals.  I think it’s because his name carries a lot of panache amongst horror crowds, but I just don’t get the love.  Similarly-styled Italian directors of his time – including Mario Bava, Lucio Fulci, and Claudio Fragasso (look, Troll II was a mess, but it could have been avoided) – have also received some post-career love from horror fans, but it pales in comparison to the Argento hype, which also tends to carry over into mainstream film criticism circles.  So far, I’ve tried the aforementioned Suspiria and Tenebre, his two best-regarded films, as well as Inferno and now Phenomena, and I still don’t get the hype.  As per usual, the visuals are pretty striking, if a bit less color-swathed than previous outings, but I could just as easily attribute this to cinematographer Romano Albani, who also made Inferno and Troll look better than they had any reason to (as well as, possibly, the made-for-TV remake of Roman Holiday that apparently came out in 1987 whydoIlookintothingslikethisohgodohgodwhynowI’mthinkingaboutseeingitpleasestopmeplea-), as to give Argento the credit.  Just as usual, the visuals are much stronger than the narrative, which is a needless collection of knots involving brutal murders, psychic powers, sleepwalking, bugs, and a chimp.  It’s a barely tenable mess, and the dubbing (okay, maybe it just seems like it was all dubbed, what with some awkard-sounding deliveries, strange audio mixes, and whatnot, though Donald Pleasance and Jennifer Connelly sound normal, so…) doesn’t help matters.  The music isn’t as grating as previous Goblin-fueled outings, but the songs, including tracks from Iron Maiden and Motörhead, still feel out of place when referenced with the visuals and the story.

The acting is something of a saving grace, actually.  A young Jennifer Connelly, a year before her epochal role in Labyrinth (and a year after appearing in Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America), does expectedly rather well as the insect-controlling girl, even if much of her time is spent running and screaming and so forth without much reason (I’m looking at you, scene involving the two dudes who pick her up in the worst way possible).  Donald Pleasance is also a welcome delight, bringing his trademark gravitas and intelligence – and a healthy Scottish accent, for some reason – to the table.  The supporting cast is also fairly strong for a giallo flick, even if the script doesn’t give them much to work with.

All in all, Phenomena (or Creepers, for us Americans who got a butchered cut of the film in what would be Argento’s last theatrical release of note) is an okay film, an odd giallo picture that doesn’t offer too much beyond the whole insect-controlling thing, which is just kinda weird, really.  It’s only worth a targeted watch for the finale, which provides us with a great shot of Connelly hugging Inga (the aforementioned chimp).

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 43 – The Relic

The Relic is one of a handful of movies I can vaguely remember coming out during my childhood and adolescence but can’t recall much else about them.  Others in this group include the Billy Zane adaptation of The Phantom, the engimatically-named Princess Caribou, and the Juliette Lewis vehicle The Other Sister.  I might get around to those flicks one day, but today my sights are set squarely on 1997 creature feature The Relic.

Based on the novel by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, the plot finds some mysterious crates sent to Chicago from Brazil as part of an exhibit on human superstition.  Bloodshed seems to follow these crates, leading the police to initially suspect foul play involving drug smuggling or some such loveliness.  The investigation leads to the Field Museum, where a security guard is found rent asunder in the bathroom.  What they learn, though, is that a strange chimeric beast is stalking about the museum, and it’s up to the boys in blue and an evolutionary biologist to stop the creature and stay alive.

Ah, the days when Tom Sizemore’s career was on a steep rise, soon to hit such heights as Enemy of the State, Black Hawk Down, and Saving Private Ryan.  I miss those days.  Sizemore’s damn solid here as the lead detective, who’s got something of a superstitious streak himself.  He’s at turns gruff and funny, terse and strong.  Penelope Ann Miller adds some always-welcome wit and intelligence as the biologist, and Linda Hunt is about two inches away from full Edna Mode mode as the museum’s worrisome curator.

The main draw here, though, is director/cinematographer Peter Hyams’ spectacularly moody photography.  Otherwise known for his work on Timecop, 2010: The Year We Made Contact, and End of Days, Hyams is known for his preference for deep shadows.  Here, those shadows are actually bleakly black, something you don’t see too often in films anymore, allowing for a deeper, creepier mystery to bleed into every shot.  Not satisfied with merely casting shadows, though, Hyams opts for a rather low level of light throughout, occasionally making certain interior spaces normally known for being flooded with light – like the Field’s main gallery, for instance – look as though they’re being filmed on the cloudiest of days during a power outage.  All of this helps to keep the creature’s full appearance under wraps for longer than usual, as well as creating an atmosphere of dread and even partial claustrophobia throughout the proceedings.  Sure, it’s a tad difficult to fully, y’know, see the action at times, but I didn’t find this to be too much of an issue.

Which is good, ’cause then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy some stellar creature effects from the legendary Stan Winston.  Taking a cue from his work on Jurassic Park, the monster is a mixture of practical and computer-aided effects, depending on the shot and its context.  Though a bit goofy looking from head-on, it’s quite the beast, and its wheezing manner of breathing adds just that little soupçon of creepy audio that helps chill the bones of those in earshot.

In all, The Relic isn’t the greatest creature feature out there, but it’s one that deserves a lot more attention and remembrance than it’s gotten thus far.  It’s much better looking and more atmospheric than most contemporary offerings, and this monster is one to remember.

As a few times before, Cecil Trachenburg did a great episode of his Exploring… series on The Relic, which can be watched here.

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 42 – Something Wicked This Way Comes

By the pricking of my thumbs, today’s Nightmare Fuel comes to us courtesy of legendary writer Ray Bradbury, who was kind enough to adapt his own novel back in ’83, when Disney was still in the throws of its “dark and edgy” live-action period.  Said period brought us such slightly-muddled classics as The Black Hole, The Watcher in the Woods, and, our subject here, Something Wicked This Way Comes.

The story is set decades ago in a small town in at least semi-rural Illinois.  Things are bright and gay in this little hamlet, but foul weather’s on the horizon, bringing a lightning rod salesman a-calling.  Sounds legit.  It’s from this salesman that our two boys, Will Holloway and Jim Nightshade (who’s clearly destined for a future in goth rock with that name), learn of a carnival coming to town, an odd occurrence given the lateness of the year, but still a welcome one, ’cause, hey, carnival!  But this is no ordinary carnival:  The mysterious Mr. Dark has got some surprises here, greatest wishes and desires made manifest – for a price.  If you wanna be youthful and beautiful again, well, you’re gonna be struck blind due to your vanity, dear.  Wanna get all the ladies?  Howzabout being turned into one (not sure on that one there, but, hey, it ain’t my story)?  Will and Jim run afoul of Mr. Dark, who proceeds to hunt them down.  All that stands in his way is Will’s aged father, who’s got a weak heart.

So this one was a bit of a surprise for me.  I’d heard little about it (a common trait amongst these darker Disney flicks), but apparently I’d seen several aspects of it in various other media, like Rick & Morty and The Venture Bros.  Upon completion, I was mostly struck by the performance of Jonathan Pryce, who absolutely owned as Mr. Dark.  He cuts just the right figure to be seen as creepy and foreboding, and yet he’s still charismatic enough to believe that he’d be able to charm people into some ironic punishments.  Jason Robards is also pretty damn solid as Will’s father, a man laden with regret and desperately wanting to do right by his son.

Bradbury’s prose is well adapted here (not too surprising, given his involvement in the screenwriting process), and the tone’s flickering from sunny to dismal is handled extremely well and smoothly.  James Horner’s expressive score – one that verges on a bit much at times – underscores this tonal oscillation with fun and frivolous notes coasting into brooding basses and whatnot.  The visual effects are slightly dated by today’s standards, but I can see plenty of kids being scarred by the climax at the carousel, lemme tell ya.  Oh, and let’s not forget that badass poster up their by artist David Grove!

Overall, Something Wicked isn’t likely to chill your bones too much, but it’s a highly enjoyable watch, one that combines a strong story with strong acting and a palpable sense of mood.  Not too shabby for a PG-rated Disney picture, eh?

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 41 – House

After something of a snoozer, we’ve gotta pump this Nightmare Fuel back up, kids! Howzabout we take a trip back to the Land of the Rising Sun for a heaping helping of absolute surreal madness, eh? Oh yeah, we’re talkin’ ‘bout the infamous 1977 horror cult classic, House.

So as not to confuse this film with the ’80s film of the same English name, I’m gonna refer to this one as its occasional alternate title, Hausu. Sound good? Don’t care, it’s happening one way or the other.

Hausu is something of an art piece, an art experience, that one must go through in order to fully grasp what it has to offer. It’s the story of seven girls who head to a mansion in the country for a school break. We’re introduced to them – twice – in almost My Little Pony Tales style, but instead of Starlight, Sweetheart, Melody, Bright-Eyes, Patch, Clover, and Bon-Bon (she’s baking cookies, girls, hurry up on over!), we get: makeup enthusiast Gorgeous, musically-inclined Melody (well, look at that, we have a match), imaginative Fantasy, martial artist Kung Fu, nerdy Prof, appropriately-named Sweet, and food-obsessed Mac (she’s just accumulating mass, you guys). They head out to Gorgeous’s aunt’s place, ‘cause Gorgeous is having trouble letting go of her late mother’s memory, especially in light of her father finding himself a new bride. Once there, though, the girls encounter all sorts of strange occurrences that threaten to steal their very lives from them.

No, seriously, there’s some wacked-out stuff going on here. You get such madness as a disembodied head that bites and vomits, a dancing skeleton, a cat with devilish powers, and a piano that’s just aching to haunt your nightmares for years to come.  It’s all accented by visual effects dating back over a decade from release, including some neon rotoscoping, some rudimentary green screening, and even a bit of rear-projecting.  (I wanna say there was some stop motion animation involved, but I’m not entirely sure that’s what it was.)  There’s also a plethora of painted backdrops, not unlike those found in Kwaidan.  Purposefully made to look unreal and to stand out, the visuals easily evoke a surreal, nightmare-like atmosphere.

Indeed, all of Sakamoto Yoshitaka’s cinematography lends a dream-like feel to things, utilizing what looks to be Fujifilm-brand film, allowing the warmer colors to really shine through the relatively soft focus pervading the proceedings.  Editor Ogawa Nobuo further emphasizes the dreamlike nature of things by making the scenes seemingly meltingly fall into one another, simultaneously organic and partially jarring.  Plenty of fades and wipes find their way in, putting the original Star Wars to shame, and the camera iris-ins on characters’ faces more times than a specially-made family tree picture frame of yore.  At one point, the girls listen to Gorgeous’s story/flashback and basically watch and interact with it like a silent film.  The second of the two character introductions reads almost like a TV show’s opening credits, Gilligan’s Island the easiest comparison, what with the headshots framed by nautical wheels and whatnot.

The music shifts throughout the film, beginning with something akin to a MIDI file or some sort of chiptune bit, then there’s what sounds like an extended commercial jingle, and the bulk of the film plays out in front of some jazzy, early-’60s eclectic stuff.  You’re never allowed to relax any of your senses, further developing the nightmarish motif.

It’s clear director Ôbayashi Nobuhiko was having a blast (either internally or visibly) while making this film (he was basically given carte blanche by the studio), and the result is a truly unique experience.  The film exhibits qualities of slapstick comedy, wuxia, romantic comedy, and campy horror, all of it melding into something of Pop Art piece.  It’s worth a watch, even if just out of morbid curiosity: you likely won’t walk away unaffected.

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 40 – Trick or Treats

We’re two-fifths through this year’s monumental Nightmare Fuel journey, a milestone to be sure.  Let’s rest our feet a bit with something of a quick one, eh?  Not to be confused with Trick ‘r Treat or Trick or Treat, we’re looking at 1982’s Trick or Treats (that pluralization makes all the difference, don’tcha know).

The plot here centers on Linda, a young woman stuck babysitting a rich little brat while his parents are off partying somewhere where the well-to-do do their partying.  This damn kid fancies himself a practical joker, tormenting the already short-fused Linda with his constant pranks.  Her night gets much, much worse, though, when the boy’s real father shows up.  See, a few years ago, the mother had the father committed to an asylum against his will, all so she could more easily be with the man she was having an affair with (what can I say, David Carradine is just so damn smooth).  Needless to say, he was a tad peeved by this, so he’s broken out to get his vengeance on the shrew, only to find Linda here in her place.  That sucks.

This film is something of a weird one.  The first several minutes show the Men in White Uniforms go in and forcibly straight-jacket this poor man out of nowhere, clearly something that’s within protocol (come to think of it, I saw it quite a lot in Bugs Bunny cartoons…).  It’s drawn-out and kinda sad, even if it does elicit some small, guilty laughs.  Then things just turn into a partially-comic slasher of sorts, the tone wavering between fun and bloodthirsty without every truly finding a level.

It’s definitely nothing special in the annals of slashers or any kind of early-’80s horror, but it certainly has its moments every now and again.  The kid is one of the more obnoxious this side of Room and The Babadook, but this time it’s clearly intentional (doesn’t help us any, mind you, but it’s worth noting all the same).  Give it a go if you haven’t seen it and you wanna complete the trick-or-treat set.  ‘Nuff said, really.

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 39 – Phone

Is anything scarier than receiving harassing phone calls? Well, that’s almost the premise to today’s Nightmare Fuel, 2002’s Phone from South Korea.

First we meet Ji-won, a journalist who has recently exposed a local group for pedophilic practices. As you might imagine, this did not endear her to them much, and as a result she receives threatening phone calls on her cell phone throughout the day. She switches phones, but the harassment continues. But not all of the malignant calls are because of her snooping, though, as another voice on the other end brings nothing but confusion and fear. When the daughter of Ji-won’s friends mistakenly answers one of these calls, she begins acting erratically. As it turns out, the previous owners of this new phone have all met untimely and mysterious ends. Ji-won, following her journalistic instincts, delves into the number’s past, finding things she’s not too fond of (gotta love that phrasing, eh? (And I have the gall to mock bad screenwriters!)).

Being a part of Tartan Video’s Asia Extreme line, Phone was already on my radar, but it took this extended Nightmare Fuel stunt to get me to actually watch the damn thing. Gotta say, it’s not all that amazing. With the premise at hand, there was ample opportunity for tension and teeth-gritting, but Ji-won mostly just seems put out by the initial harassment and curious about the spookier stuff. I never got the impression she either was or felt herself to be in much danger or anything, and the ultimate reveal just landed with a mild thud for me. Additionally, the subplot involving the little girl acting all weird and whatnot didn’t do anything for me, and though I know it was included to add some extra mystery and fright to the calls, it just seemed mostly unnecessary.

Visually, the film resembles many contemporary Asian horror flicks (mostly Japanese and Korean), but this one didn’t do all that much to bring us into Ji-won’s headspace, help us feel what she’s feeling, so we’re left as neutral and inactive observers to an already slightly dull plot. There’s nothing imaginative done with the camera or the lighting, visual effects are relatively sparse (not necessarily a bad thing, mind you) and uninteresting, and the acting gets the job done without too much additional effort.

All in all, Phone isn’t a bad film, really, but it’s nothing I can fully recommend as something to go out and see. It’s sufficient as a quick bit of minor thrills, but there’s not much there beyond that, unfortunately.

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 38 – Blood Glacier

Here’s another one I remember seeing on the TV listings a while back and procrastinating about actually watching it.  Then it came up on Netflix, so I added it to my queue.  And procrastinated again, long enough for Netflix to drop it from their streaming service.  Great.  I even heard the guys on the NLSS talking about it one day (I wanna say Nick thought the premise was intriguingly stupid, yet he may or may not have liked the film itself, I can’t remember), yet I still sat on my hands, so to speak.  Of course, by the time I decided to add it to my Nightmare Fuel list, it was harder to find than it had any reason to be.  I speak, naturally, of the startling (???) Blood Glacier.

An Austrian film, the film tells of a team of scientists gathered in the Austrian Alps to study climate change.  While out amongst the peaks one day, a pair of scientists come across an odd sight: a red-colored glacier.  The coloring comes from a liquid that seems to be reacting strangely with the local fauna, the animals changing into wild chimeric creatures.  It’s all well and intellectually stimulating until these critters start to feast on human flesh.

Gotta say, this film didn’t make the greatest early impression on me.  Things are going along fine until they find the titular glacier, which looks like a really obvious Photoshop job.  Like, this isn’t just a poor effect, it’s painfully glaring, daring me to notice.  Then, mere minutes later, the title card pops up.  With a jump scare.  Yeah.  Dammit, jump scares and the movies that traffic in them are bad enough, but to come across a film that chucks its title card at you with a jump scare?  That’s crossing the line, man!

The rest of the film was absolutely nothing noteworthy for me.  The title and its possible ramifications are much more interesting than the mild creature feature you’re given here.  Admittedly, I watched the dubbed version, so perhaps things turned out slightly better in the original German, but the script and the acting that brought it to life are just serviceable, the effects on the poorer side of things, and the frights few and far between (aside from the shock of the title card, obviously).

Honestly, what drew me to this film was the abject oddity hinted at with the title, and I was given something just plain mediocre.  It happens a lot, especially in science fiction and horror.  It’s nothing bad, really, I can’t completely diss the film (I mean, any more than I already have, I guess), but it’s nothing you should ever actively seek out.  Should you passively encounter it in the wild somehow, though, there’s worse options out there.

The Scorpion King: Book of Souls

Well, kids, it looks as though our old friends at Universal 1440 are at it again! The folks who shoved down your throat some highly unnecessary and painfully bad sequels to Jarhead, The Land Before Time, and Kindergarten Cop are back with another zombification of a franchise with Scorpion King: Book of Souls.

Yup, the spinoff from The Mummy that barely had a point when it was conceived nearly two decades ago has yet another trailing, straight-to-video sequel under its umbrella, this one the fourth such needless follower. The plot follows the efforts of a fallen king (the titular Scorpion King, who certainly seems a world away from the Dwayne Johnson version (and he’s an Akkadian now…?) to take down a different king, one who’s found the Fang of Anubis, a mystical sword that steals the souls of its victims (paging Suicide Squad’s Katana), and is looking to use it conquer all in his eyeline. Insert various sword-and-sandal stuff here.

So there’s a lot to unpack here, surprisingly. The script, to start off with, is your usual bundle of clichés and lack of inventiveness, combined with the Complete Hack’s Guide to Dialogue and Narrative. The opening narration tells us of the forging of the Fang, which apparently happened in both Hell and the Underworld, ‘cause who really knows the difference, right? A little later, during the next bit of expository narration, we’re introduced to the Scorpion King as someone coming out of nowhere, part of a story that seemingly happened before the events of this one, but has some ramifications here: The evil dude is taking everybody down, but he’s got a raging vengeance hard-on for Scorpy, ‘cause the latter beat him in battle years ago. I guess. The way the script tells us this is even sloppier than how I just did it, so noodle that one, kiddos. Every scene is just one more rung on the tired, rusty ladder of down-trodden warrior – who wants to give up the warrior lifestyle – who is thrust back into the thick of violence by a highly malevolent dickhead. Sadly, this well-worn story is handled just as lazily as my summary of it, writing, editing, directing, acting, special effects, and all.

What kills me is that this series could have been an okay, semi-decent take on the Conan mythos. It has everything you need, and these later sequels barely have any remnant of Egyptian anything going on in them (the costumes here are more like a Cirio Santiago post-apocalyptic flick than ancient Egyptian), so they might as well. Hell this one sounds like something from the barbarian’s latter days, when he’s tired of all of the bloodshed, but, no, Universal owns the rights to the Scorpion King name, so they’re gonna beat it into the ground until there’s absolutely nothing left. And then they’ll make another one. For those who criticize Disney for over-milking their franchises, save some rancor for the hacks at Universal 1440.

Suffice it so say, you’re free to skip this thing unless you’re looking for something vaguely violent to have on in the background while you vacuum or something. It ain’t good for anything else, and I’m loathe to hype up any such blind attempt at taking your money as part of a franchise fleecing.

Nightmare Fuel 2018: Day 37 – Laid to Rest

Okay, this is gonna be a rather quick one, owing to my visceral feelings toward the movies I’m about to introduce you to (my apologies for both halves of that sentence).  But the other night I watched Laid to Rest.

This is a modern slasher movie from a few years ago about a dude wearing a chrome skull mask who goes around killing people (more or less).  He’s like a modern Jason, just without any skill or tact in front of or behind the camera.

I had initially gotten the idea to watch this when I randomly came upon a movie called Chromeskull whilst channel surfing one night.  The title alone was dumb enough to trigger my bad movie senses, so I DVR-ed the thing, ostensibly to watch it later.  being me, though, I procrastinated so badly the film got deleted to make room for other things.  No big loss, though I, I’ll get it some other day.  Fast forward a few years and I remember the stupid title and look into it, learning that it’s a sequel to the movie Laid to Rest.  Well, now I’ve gotta watch the fist one, so that I’m not confused when I go into it (glad I thought of this, by the by…).  Another couple years would pass before I would finally get down to business, making the movies a double-bill for this year’s extended Nightmare Fuel.  Big.  Mistake.

The movie is too slick, the script is poor and cliched, the acting is all over the place, and never once did I give a damn about what was going on on screen.  It’s a bad movie.  But worse is yet to come.

Chromeskull basically picks up where the first film left off, but the presentation is so ungodly bad and incompetent that it wouldn’t matter what’s going on.  We’re treated to hectic, ADD-addled editing, worse acting than before (oh hai, Brian Austin Green), flat and partially faded coloring, and more nonsensical and pointless kills.  Hoo-fucking-ray.  I muscled through about fifteen minutes before the booze started to flow (popped some Glenfiddich Fire & Cane, not too shabby, thankfully), and the remainder is now a sublime blur in my memory.

Call this bitchy if you will, I’m, not gonna argue with you, but these movies are atrocious.  They’ve got nothing creative, new, or interesting to say, and technical know-how is lacking all around.  I have nothing positive to say about them; even the sequel’s title isn’t ridiculous enough to make me laugh anymore.  These movies are curses.  Don’t waste your time with them unless you’re armed with some high-grade booze in ample quantities (some heavy distractions would be helpful, as well).  You’ve been warned.