July 2023

Forest of Death (2023)

I have to admire the moxie of writer-director Brendan Rudnicki—aka, President and CEO of DBS Films—who doesn’t let little things like money get in the way of quick-hitting horror films like Forest of Death.

Weighing in at a lean 75 minutes, Rudnicki wastes no time with story arc, motivation, or any of that other fancy pants nonsense. It’s two basic-cable couples playing drinking games in the woods with a skinwalker/shapeshifter haunting the vicinity.

Despite a predictable premise and a shortage of dramatic talent, there are moments in Forest of Death where the total is greater than the sum of its cheapo parts, and Rudnicki makes his crude puppet show dance and caper.

Make no mistake, this movie doesn’t dawdle, placing the protagonists in danger within 10 minutes of the opening credits. Even so, Rudnicki feels confident enough to include two cheerful, upbeat musical interludes of his nondescript characters enjoying a few rousing rounds of gin rummy.

There is very little creature action, since the evil spirit can assume any form, which is another handy budget-saving device employed by the resourceful Rudnicki.

Once the skinwalker has infiltrated the cabin, it’s only a matter of time before the dominos start falling, and friends turn on each other. The question each viewer must answer for themselves is how much nutritional value can be derived from such a thoroughly chewed bone?

When there’s no meat, you make soup. Forest of Death is strictly warmed-over leftovers.

I was passably entertained, but no one will be blown away by loads of fresh ideas. As a resumé builder for Brendan Rudnicki, though, it’s a statement of purpose.

Ariel Phenomenon (2022)

Forgive me for straying somewhat far afield from my usual cadre of killers and creatures, on behalf of Ariel Phenomenon, a riveting BBC documentary by Randall Nickerson. To be honest, I feel I’d be forsaking my curatorial responsibilities if I were to ignore what might be the most important film of all time.

If you believe the testimony from the dozens of Zimbabwean schoolchildren, who reported contact with an alien craft and its strange crew, then you have no choice but to accept the idea that we definitely aren’t alone in the universe.

Shouldn’t be difficult if you grew up with Star Trek.

The incident took place in 1994, at a parochial learning center in rural Zimbabwe called Ariel School. As many as 60 students on recess witnessed the appearance of a large silver saucer in the jungle brush near their playground.

The vessel was guarded by small men, with large almond-shaped eyes, dressed in skintight black material. Though the encounter couldn’t have taken more than 15 minutes, some of the schoolchildren claim to have communicated telepathically with one of the aliens.

The kids, mostly between the ages of six and twelve, were asked to draw pictures of what they saw, with the resultant artwork revealing an unnerving consistency.

All this might have gone unnoticed, but a BBC reporter named Tim Leach got wind of the story, leading to the arrival in Zimbabwe of Dr. John Mack, a Pulitzer Prize winning psychiatrist from Harvard, who agreed to interview several of the children.

His findings? These children are telling the truth.

Consider those implications, why dontcha?

Through an abundance of documentation connected to the incident and investigation, director Nickerson presents a provocative picture of a society (just 20-odd years ago) that isn’t ready to consider the possibility of extraterrestrial contact.

Dr. Mack became a punchline for media pundits, portraying the noted scientist as a crackpot who believes in little green men. As a result of the controversy stirred up by Mack’s conclusions, Harvard publicly withdrew its support for his research.

Mack authored a book on the subject in 1999, Passport to the Cosmos: Human Transformation and Alien Encounters.

As for the students themselves, we see them interviewed in historical footage with Dr. Mack and then again later as adults, still unshaken in their conviction that something unique and wonderful happened to them.

In the end, Ariel Phenomenon makes a compelling case for visitors from outer space. And just like Star Trek, where the Vulcans come to Earth and wisely advise us not to annihilate each other, these travelers bear a message about human devotion to technology.

With Artificial Intelligence knocking on our door, we’d best pay attention.

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)

“Stories hurt. Stories heal.”

Folklorist Alvin Schwartz is the author of the source material for Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, but in the fertile hands of director Andre Ovredal (Trollhunter) and producer Guillermo del Toro, these words not only spring to life, they chase us down a long dark hallway.

With the 1968 presidential election of Richard Nixon serving as an ominous backdrop, we are invited into the picturesque community of Mill Valley, Pennsylvania, where Halloween is in full swing.

Stella (Zoe Margaret Colletti), a fan of horror movies and a burgeoning writer, is putting the finishing touches on her witch costume in preparation for an evening out with Auggie (Gabriel Rush), and Chuck (Austin Zajur), her two doofus friends.

In short order, they manage to piss off Tommy Milner (Austin Abrams), the town bully, and he and his goon buddies chase the luckless teens into a drive-in showing Night of the Living Dead. There, they take refuge in a car belonging to Ramon (Michael Garza), a stranger in town, who coincidentally is also on the run.

With Ramon in tow, Stella and her friends decide to explore the Bellows Mansion, the local haunted house of mystery, and in doing so, release the spirit of Sarah Bellows, a raging ghost bent on revenge.

While the connecting narrative of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is an increasingly familiar page torn from Ray Bradbury, Stephen King, Stranger Things, etc, the monsters conceived by del Toro and Ovredal bring the zing to this production.

The Fat Lady, Harold the Scarecrow, the Jangly Man, and the Big Toe Zombie are the stuff of newer, fresher nightmares, elbowing aside worn-out boogeyman templates that neither frighten nor satisfy.

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark also ends in such a way that a second film is practically required so Stella can rescue Auggie and Chuck. I only hope that the sequel is likewise handled by del Toro and Overdal, who are perfectly suited to the task.

In case my review is too ambiguous, I heartily recommend Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, now and in the future.