Occult – Page 3

Oddity (2024)

Irish filmmaker Damian McCarthy made a bit of a splash with his debut, Caveat (2020), an indie-horror shocker that more than recouped the measly 250,000 pounds spent on its production.

Oddity is McCarthy’s second film, and the raw talent revealed in Caveat gains both power and polish, anchored by an incendiary performance by Carolyn Bracken, as twin sisters Dani and Darcy Timmins—the former a murder victim, the latter a blind collector of cursed objects.

Darcy decides that her sister’s murder at the hands of an escaped mental patient (Tadhg Murphy) is just a little too coincidental, considering her sister’s husband Ted (Gwilym Lee) is a psychiatrist at the nearby asylum from whence the killer came!

As if that weren’t enough to put a bee in her bonnet, Darcy discovers that Ted has a new girlfriend (Caroline Menton) less than a year after her sister’s brutal death by bludgeoning.

Through a magic ritual involving the glass eye of the alleged killer, Darcy figures out who the real culprits are and rebrands herself as an instrument of vengeance.

The obvious care and attention to detail provided by writer-director McCarthy is a pleasure to behold—the atmosphere of the mostly single set of a remote country house successfully develops layers of menace with each scene.

The narrative is bone simple, as Darcy arranges a sinister fate for the conspirators responsible for her twin’s demise, disguised as a bizarre housewarming gift: a life-sized wooden man that appears to be distressingly ambulatory.

The actual business of the revenge plot isn’t terribly intricate, but McCarthy consistently avoids the obvious choices, and the viewer is all the better for it.

Oddity is a first-rate horror experience that belies the lack of a body count, and indicates that Damian McCarthy is emerging as a confident comer in modern genre filmmaking.

Don’t believe me? See for yourself!

Ghostwatch (1992)

I watched Late Night with the Devil, but it didn’t bring me any joy. A far more effective version of hell breaking loose on the telly can be found in Ghostwatch a BBC mockumentary that originally aired on Halloween night, 1992.

Apparently Ghostwatch was so realistic that many citizens were fooled into thinking something truly paranormal was unfolding before their astonished eyes, and network censors vowed never to rerun it on the BBC, accusing the creators of “a deliberate attempt to cultivate a sense of dread.”

Cool beans! Sign me up!

The made-for-TV movie was written by Steven Volk and directed by Lesley Manning, and it follows a large team of 1990s-style BBC reporters and crew onsite at a very normal looking home in Foxhill, that’s been the scene of serious poltergeist activity.

We meet the unfortunate inhabitants of the house, Pamela Early (Brid Brennan), and her two traumatized daughters, Suzanne (Michelle Wesson) and Kimmy (Cherise Wesson).

From the studio, the veteran presenter (Michael Parkinson), a stodgy old skeptic, coordinates the various segments, including live reports from the haunted house, interviews with the beleaguered family, and assorted talking heads adding their two cents worth to the proceedings.

What elevates Ghostwatch is its organic flow from spooky fun to impending danger to an unearthly tele-event, as a very compelling guest crashes the “live broadcast” for a few announcements and a guest editorial.

The pacing is superbly handled and the characters behave as real humans probably would in the presence of a particularly evil entity.

That’s a heavy compliment. You should watch.

Monolith (2022)

An investigative journalist (Lily Sullivan) has suffered a career setback. Hoping to salvage her reputation with a new podcast about unexplained phenomenon, she retreats to her parents’ posh pad in the Australian wilderness to brainstorm some ideas.

“I need a story,” she tells her boss on the phone. To paraphrase Apocalypse Now, for her sins, they gave her one.

Monolith, written by Lucy Campbell and directed by Matt Vesely, is confined to one location, with a single actress interacting with other characters online and over the telephone.

The journalist, at first reluctantly, and then with single-minded vigor, pursues a juicy conspiracy story revolving around the mysterious distribution of “black bricks” that exert a kind of power over those who receive them.

As she assembles and submits episodes of her podcast, her listeners begin to take notice, and soon her inbox is full of testimony from people who’ve had experiences with these bricks, the effects of which include visions, loss of appetite, cognitive decline, and occasionally a fatal illness.

As often happens with conspiracy cases, the reporter gets swept up and goes down a very deep, dark rabbit hole, that originates surprisingly close to home.

Lily Sullivan dramatically carries Monolith and she’s quite up to the task, as her increasingly odd situation requires a fully stocked arsenal of emotional firepower. She threatens, cajoles, pleads, and does a remarkable job inhabiting what appears to be a nervous breakdown of some sort, that also could be a fight for her very soul.

Sullivan’s transformation from a sulky ego-driven internet personality to an obsessed participant in her own developing story, is astonishing and completely believable.

Well worth the watch, in my opinion.

Night Swim (2024)

“I’ve always wanted a pool.”

Kurt Russell’s kid, Wyatt Russell, stars as an ailing baseball player who lucks into a house with a magic swimming pool.

Unfortunately, his family may not survive a comeback.

I went into Night Swim under the impression that it was a goofy monster-in-the-drain romp, accompanied by a heavy body count, but writer-director Bryce McGuire threw me a curveball.

Instead, it’s a movie about hope and how misplaced faith in miracles can be a dangerous thing. It also does a very credible job of capturing the joy and terror of owning a backyard pool.

A swimming pool used to be a mighty source of entertainment for the entire family, with a few short breaks for potato chips and kool-aid. Got a jar of change? Kids will dive after dimes all goddamn day.

A child’s introduction to liquid immersion is a unique feeling that goes back to the womb. Weightless, wet, wonderful, intoxicating, and frightening—it’s a different dimension that can play tricks on our senses.

McGuire makes fertile use of those familiar sensations, shooting every scrap of action from multiple angles for an extra slow and scary fun slide into the dark tank.

The title taps into the curious dread that comes with nocturnal aquatics, the feeling of not knowing how deep the deep end goes, and the uncertain possibility that you’re not alone in the pool.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a Hollywood film about a swimming pool without the ancient game of Marco Polo being involved. Do they really play this antique pastime in the 21st century?

I’m skeptical.

Night Swim also includes the obligatory Camel Fight sequence, and sure enough, people escape death by a hair’s breadth. Having once been pinned to the bottom of a pool during a losing Camel Fight, I can confirm that this is the sort of horseplay that can ruin everyone’s good time.

No one wants to see your stupid lungs explode.

Frogman (2023)

Hey, you guys! Look at this footage I found!

Through a magical editing process, Frogman brings together all the filmed components of a quest to locate a legendary cryptid that allegedly inhabits the swampier suburbs of Loveland, Ohio.

Amateur filmmaker and daydreamer Dallas Kyle (Nathan Tymochuk) is worried that his career peaked as a child, when he snapped a photograph of a mysterious amphibian creature while on a trip with his parents.

It happened near Loveland, Ohio, a small town that stays afloat financially by luring v-loggers, podcasters, documentarians, and other media soakers to have a look around for their slimy mascot.

Tired of the world at large perceiving him as a kooky kid with a camera, Dallas decides to go back to Loveland and shoot a hard-hitting documentary about the Loveland Frogman.

Accompanying Dallas is his wedding photographer drinking buddy, Scottie (Benny Barrett), and his longtime friend and secret crush, Amy (Chelsey Grant), who is ostensibly on her way to Los Angeles to become an actress.

Inspired by Dallas’s passion to create something meaningful, the trio saddles up and checks in at a charming Loveland B&B run by Gretel (Chari Eckmann), an enthusiastic dame who acts as an unofficial tour guide for all things related to the Frogman.

As we see all too often, a lark expedition with three friends turns into a very nasty little trip (trap).

It’s easy enough to classify Frogman as a found-footage descendant of The Blair Witch Project, as it sticks to the interview-vs-wilderness template pretty closely.

If we look back to the earlier part of the previous century, it also bears some resemblance to Lovecraft’s Shadow Over Innsmouth, in which a nameless tourist stumbles into a dilapidated fishing village populated by folks with an unsettling “batrachian” appearance.

I believe writer-director Anthony Cousins purposely designed Frogman to dig deeper and bite harder than Blair Witch. It definitely establishes a darker shade of horror, especially after the viewer pieces together all the awful implications.

A big ol’ recommendation from Ol’ Sharky.

The Haunting Lodge (2023)

A beleaguered Georgia landowner summons a husband-wife team of investigators to document possible paranormal parties driving away his customers at a remote hunting lodge.

The hunters are scared of ghosts that noisily walk around at night, and whose presence is felt by virtually everyone who stays there.

Filmmakers Kendall and Vera Whelpton set up shop in the antler-festooned farmhouse, promptly noting atmospheric changes on their EMF readers, and seemingly making contact with an entity that flashes lights in response to questions.

Eventually the Whelptons bring in a rather theatrical psychic, Jill Morris, who makes her own connections into the spirit realm that causes a minor metaphysical ruckus.

Keep in mind, The Haunting Lodge is a DOCumentary and not a MOCKumentary.

The Whelptons maintain that what we are watching is a genuine event, a legitimately filmed paranormal happening.

Therefore, the doors opening and closing by themselves, accompanied by the sounds of booted feet marching down the hallway, are real ghosts.

And there are a few glimpses of beings (?) that appear and move digitally through the darkness.

With plenty of “Did you see that?” moments, the footage allows disbelief to be temporarily and precariously suspended.

Actually, it doesn’t matter if you believe what you see here. It’s the storytelling equivalent of saying, “I swear! It’s true! It happened to my Mom’s cousin’s sister!”

In any case, The Haunting Lodge clocks in at a lean 67 minutes, so it’s not much of a time investment.

The Changeling (1980)

George C. Scott in an understated role as a classical composer bedeviled by spooks in Seattle? It’s true!

I reviewed The Changeling upon its release for my high school newspaper, wherein I declared it “really scary.”

More than 40 years later, I am revising my opinion. Sometimes “scary” doesn’t age well. But then, neither do I.

Ivory tickler John Russell (GCS) is a recent widower, having lost wife and daughter in a wintery road accident. He takes a teaching job at a small college in Washington state to hopefully get his head together and start composing again.

Instead, the massive mansion generously rented to him by Claire Norman (Trish Van Devere, his real-life wife) from the local historical society, comes with a ghost in the attic that wastes no time banging around upstairs, depriving the maestro of much-needed rest.

A seance arranged by Claire with a psychic couple confirms the presence of a restless child murdered in the house, and it becomes Russell’s mission to bring metaphysical justice to the situation.

Director Peter Hyams (The Relic, Time Cop), a thoroughly capable and professional filmmaker, does a thoroughly capable and professional job on The Changeling.

The problem isn’t him, it’s me.

I suppose a scene in which a possessed antique wheelchair chases Claire around the upper floors of the mansion was sufficient to make teenaged me go, “eek!”

Since then, I’ve logged thousands of hours of community service watching ghosts, ghouls, creatures, cruel killers, and assorted hell-spawn ravaging their way through humanity.

The Changeling, even with its star cast and engaging mystery, comes off as quaint and dated. Weak tea and dry toast.

It’s not simply an age thing. A masterpiece of atmosphere such as Robert Wise’s The Haunting (1963) requires nothing more than sound and camera movement to convince us that the supernatural world is all around us.

The Great Scott, who does not bellow, growl, or bloviate, is convincing as Russell, a (literally) haunted man vulnerable/receptive to unseen forces, due to the fresh tragedy in his life.

Though Hyams, Scott, et al, give it the old college try, their collective efforts fail to generate any genuine shock wattage in the 21st century.

Big Trouble In Little China (1986)

It appears I’m on a Carpenter Kick.

While The Thing (1982) remains one of my absolute favorite horrors, Big Trouble In Little China finds John Carpenter at the top of his game. I’d be hard-pressed to think of a film that can match it for sheer volume of fun, fights, and full-tilt frenetic action.

It’s the ideal midnight movie.

We must remember that Kurt Russell has been a leading man in Hollywood since The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes. Big Trouble is essentially a live-action comic book, and Russell plays hero Jack Burton as a bumbling John Wayne caricature who’s routinely saved by his buddy Wang Chi (Dennis Dun).

Indeed, Burton’s capacity to stupidly screw up and still save the day is unmatched in my cinematic memory.

Trucker Jack Burton (Russell) gets his rig stolen after an all-night game of cards in SF’s Chinatown. The culprits are connected to David Lo Pan (James Hong) a sinister sorcerer/crime boss who has also arranged for the kidnapping of Wang’s girlfriend Miao Yin (Suzee Pai), a beautiful woman with green eyes.

From here, the plot thickens into a dark, delicious pudding of ghosts, monsters, sorcery, aerial martial arts, and a flying blade ceremony designed to make Lo Pan flesh and blood so he can wed Miao Yin after centuries of living as a formless ghost.

Unless he chooses Gracie Law (Kim Cattrall), another beautiful woman with green eyes.

Like a good paella, Big Trouble is a feast for the senses as Carpenter’s cameras fly alongside supernatural warriors locked in thunderous conflict. When you combine the movie’s breathless pace with acrobatic cinematography and those distinctively quotable tough-guy cracks from Burton, the results are pure gold.

But don’t take my word for it. Let the man speak for himself.

“Just remember what ol’ Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake.

“Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big ol’ storm right square in the eye and he says, ‘Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.'”

Indeed, you really can’t go wrong with the team of John Carpenter and Kurt Russell.

Let’s watch ’em all.

Prince of Darkness (1987)

Funny thing, I went to the theater and saw this when it came out. I remember liking it well enough, but Prince of Darkness is a relatively small-scale production for John Carpenter.

His previous run of films included Halloween, The Thing, The Fog, Escape From New York, and Big Trouble In Little China, so perhaps I was missing the star power typically provided by Kurt Russell and Jamie Lee Curtis.

The real reason, I now suspect, is that Prince of Darkness is more akin to Carpenter’s earlier, grittier Assault on Precinct 13, a no-name thriller about cops fighting off a crowd of vengeful gang members while trapped in a shuttered police station.

The cast of Prince of Darkness, including vintage TV stars Jameson Parker (Simon & Simon), Thom Bray (Riptide) and Dirk Blocker (son of Dan Blocker/Hoss), are similarly under siege, this time by a seemingly synchronized horde of hobo schizophrenics led by a menacing Alice Cooper.

Carpenter’s resident authority figure Donald Pleasence plays Father Loomis (Doctor Loomis’s twin brother?), a nervous priest who discovers an infernal device in the basement of an abandoned Los Angeles church.

The ancient artifact, which resembles a moldy lava lamp, appears to contain some kind of organic material that’s rapidly developing consciousness after lying dormant for untold centuries.

Loomis calls in Professor Birack (Victor Wong, Egg Shen from Big Trouble) and a group of his top physics students to study the strange canister and possibly decipher the accompanying doomsday grimoire also found on the premises.

How could they know they’d be hastening the return of the titular character, even providing a human vessel for its gestation period?

Nope, didn’t see that one coming.

I would expect college students to be dopey enough to take on this insane extra-credit assignment, but distinguished scientists?

All hell proceeds to break loose, as the assembled eggheads fall victim to having unholy water squirted in their faces from newly made zombies, or getting torn apart by the mute mob of street people that have surrounded the accursed church.

Professor Birack and the increasingly agitated Loomis deduce that the evil essence contained in the canister is now fully awake and influencing people on a subatomic level. Like ants working together toward a common goal.

You get it? Carpenter? Ants?

Carpenter is at his most diabolical depicting a wounded world, teeming with swarms of furious insects, that’s clearly reached end time, requiring an act of selfless sacrifice to save the day and keep the devil—and his creeping minions—away.

The dour final frame of Prince of Darkness indicates that he won’t be gone for long. A hell of a movie.

Project Metal Beast (1995)

I will begin by reintroducing a pair of the descriptive phrases I use when reviewing my HorrificFlicks.

Anonymous Industrial Walkabout: This means the majority of the action takes place in a generic location, usually festooned with pipes, control panels, and endless nondescript doors, offices, and hallways.

Serviceable Piece of Shit: A movie that transcends its budget constraints and offers genuine entertainment value.

Project Metal Beast is a shining example of both.

Our story opens somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains, as U.S. agent Donald Butler (John Marzilli) and a red-shirt subordinate are on a dangerous, top-secret mission to acquire werewolf blood.

Pretty standard, really.

Butler watches idly as a nasty specimen noshes on his comrade before dispatching the beast with silver bullets and retrieving the precious blood sample.

We quickly discover that Butler is hot-headed and impulsive, as he ignores his orders and injects himself with the dreaded Type O Super Negative.

“I will be a new kind of warrior,” he boasts. “One that can shape-change at will! With senses of an animal and the mind of a man!”

Before he can take his powers for a proper test drive, Butler is immobilized by Colonel Miller (Barry Bostwick), his sociopathic commanding officer, and frozen for 20 years.

Eventually, Butler is thawed out of retirement and given metal skin by Dr. Anne De Carlo (Kim Delaney) at the direction of Colonel Miller.

When Butler changes into an armored lycanthrope, he goes on a reasonable rampage slaughtering a stereotypical Italian chef, a nerdy scientist, and a few other nonentities.

How do you kill a metal werewolf, anyway?

Writer and director Alessandro de Gaetano is definitely operating on the cheap side of the street. The werewolf effects are ok, but the costume (worn by Friday The 13th‘s most famous Jason, Kane Hodder!) looks like a gorilla suit that went on tour with Gwar.

Between the scenes of fairly awesome wolfen mayhem there are many, many interludes of educated characters contemplating their dire situation and spouting pseudo-scientific jibber jabber.

Feel free to mute these parts and invent your own smart-ass dialogue. It’s fun!

Project Metal Beast wouldn’t be nearly such a hoot if not for Barry Bostwick’s kooky performance as the power-mad Colonel Miller, a man who seems quite delighted with the havoc he causes.

In one scene, Miller gleefully shoots a superior officer in both legs so he can’t escape the werewolf, who, sure enough, comes along and shreds the poor guy.

And when the monster turns on Miller, he is disciplined enough to straighten his uniform before being disemboweled.

Once again, we observe that it’s those little human touches that make for a memorable metal monster movie experience.