Psychological Head Trip Horror

From (2022-23)

Back to the small screen for a moment, if I may.

Amazon Prime temptingly offers the opportunity to pig-out on obscure and overlooked horror television from every port of call imaginable. After a bit of grazing. I’d highly recommend From, a series filmed in Nova Scotia that’s captured the imagination of myself and Mrs. Sharky.

It should ring several bells if you’re a fan of Lost, The Walking Dead, and Wayward Pines, as a four-pack family unit drives its RV into one of those cursed communities that you can never leave.

To make matters worse, everybody has to be inside and locked down before darkness falls, because monsters (kind of like vampires, kind of like zombies) come out of the woods at night seeking to gain entry into the town’s various residences to murder and mutilate the town’s various residents.

The pale whispering ghouls surround a home, endlessly cajoling and compelling its occupants to throw open their doors so they can be properly displayed as part of a gruesome tableaux come the morning.

On the upside, houses are free, but you might have to clean up the viscera from the most recent undead onslaught.

Still a good deal, if you ask me. I bet it’s cheaper than Salem’s Lot.

Vehicles arrive from a disparate assortment of starting points, and after an interval of freaking out, travelers must decide whether they want to reside in the town itself, under the severe protection of Sheriff Boyd Stevens (Harold Perrineau), or find some floor space with the free-loving bohemians of Colony House, where the Sheriff’s brooding, model-handsome son Ellis (Corteon Moore) holds court.

The two camps represent humanity as ludicrously polarized despite a shared goal of not wanting to end up as chew toys for a mob of malevolent entities.

Series creator John Griffin does a stellar job of knitting hard horror elements into a character-driven show. The creatures that stalk the populace of this nameless community aren’t driven by a biological need to feed.

They’re just evil and cruel!

The cast of “castaways” on From range from complaining assholes to compassionate caretakers, including a tech bro, an amusement park engineer and his traumatized family, an unstable clergyman, a spooky waitress with voices in her head, and a crayon-coloring man child who’s been exiled in this particular limbo the longest.

As for the bigger picture, Boyd and company must solve the mystery of how they all got there and devise methods of escape from a location that isn’t on any map.

But as one character says bitterly, “We’re not on Gilligan’s Island. We can’t fix the radio with coconuts.”

From keeps enough intriguing subplots at play (e.g., where is the electricity coming from?) to reel in even the casual viewer. At present, there are only two seasons available.

I’ve seen the first one and I’m completely hooked.

The inevitable comparisons to Lost are well warranted. Executive producers Jack Bender and Jeff Pinkner both worked on that genre-defying show.

Perhaps they belong to the same universe? I’ll know more after my next season session.

Editor’s Note: The addictive theme song to From is a minor-key, dirge arrangement of “Que Sera Sera,” performed by the Pixies, that sounds like Lee Hazlewood.

One more reason to tune in.

Berberian Sound Studio (2012)

If you’ve ever remarked aloud words to the effect of “this job is killing me,” then perhaps you can understand the kind of hell that protagonist Gilderoy (Toby Jones) faces in Berberian Sound Studio, a meticulously unnerving film by Peter Strickland.

Gilderoy is a sound editor for movies, recognized internationally as a true artisan in a mostly vulgar industry. He takes an assignment in Italy that turns out to be a lurid horror movie about the Inquisition, and finds himself at odds with everyone around him, including the raging director (Cosimo Fusco), a playboy producer (Antonio Mancino), and various unhappy actresses who complain that they haven’t been paid.

Time is measured fitfully. Gilderoy, feeling more trapped every day, is unable to get reimbursed for his airfare by a sneering secretary (Tonia Sotiropoulo), forcing him into a captivity spent devising gruesome sound effects for a movie about (mainly) torture and screaming women.

We are witness to countless taping sessions of chopping, stabbing, boiling, and mutilating many pounds of fruits and vegetables, which never seem to get cleaned up, giving us a behind-the-scenes look at a studio full of moldy produce.

And it appears the mold is growing in direct proportion to the increasing torment depicted in the film being made, which the viewer never sees.

Meanwhile, actresses continue to scream in the sound booth. The director isn’t remotely satisfied with anyone’s terror level, and bullies the hapless audio supervisor into turning things up a bit.

Not surprisingly, the mild-mannered and repressed Gilderoy begins to lose his grip on reality, cheered only by an occasional letter from his mother. Even these become sinister as the days roll by, as if the carnage he helps create in this cursed Italian production has infected every branch in his life.

Writer-director Peter Strickland has cunningly fabricated a stinging slow-burner about the frailty of the creative spirit and how the battle between art and crass commercialism can cost you your very soul—not unlike say, Barton Fink.

Berberian Sound Studio plays out as a hypnotic and haunting collage of rolling tapes, clipping VU meters, and the turning of knobs, all of which contribute to a very soft man’s ruin, brilliantly realized by veteran stage actor Toby Jones (also sublime in The Detectorists), with whom we sympathize every awful step.

It’s also a “way homer” and worth the time it takes to puzzle over. I’m still thinking on it.

Cobweb (2023)

Pity poor Peter (Woody Norman), an eight-year-old kid who just wants a decent night’s sleep, a life without bullies, and a normal mom and dad.

In Cobweb, we learn that Peter’s school days are spent hiding from evil classmate Brian (Luke Busey, a third-generation movie psycho), while his home life is watched over by his stern parents Carol (Lizzy Caplan) and Mark (Antony Starr), an odd, secretive couple who aren’t afraid to dish out severe punishments for being too curious.

The problem is, Peter is being kept awake at night by intermittent tapping in the walls and his freaky parents dismiss his concerns by telling him he has an overactive imagination!

Peter tries to enlist the help of Miss Devine (Cleopatra Cole), his new teacher, but her appearance at his home results in the lad getting locked in the creepy basement, where he makes further contact with someone else living in their house. Someone who develops a powerful hold over the lonely tyke.

Cobweb‘s rookie director Sam Bodin shows off a fully stocked cabinet of gothic panache, creating a nightmare landscape to rival Tim Burton, one that seems all but inescapable to our young protagonist.

Bodin and writer Chris Thomas Devlin understand a child’s limited worldview and what perceived threats can endanger it.

Question: Is it my imagination or does the creative team of this movie enjoy tormenting kids just a bit too much? In any case, Cobweb is a fiercely original film that should scare the bejesus out of any average, run-of-the-mill rugrat.

It’s not for them, anyway.

No One Will Save You (2023)

If you’re a fan of witty, acerbic dialogue, this won’t be your cup of tea.

Instead, No One Will Save You is a master class in visual storytelling from writer-director Brian Duffield (Underwater, The Babysitter, Love and Monsters) who puts his leading lady Kaitlyn Dever through one helluva wringer, all without a single word of exposition.

Through views both intimate and isolating, we meet Brynn Adams (Dever) a young woman with promising artistic talent who lives a solitary existence on the outskirts of town.

On the occasion when she ventures into her small community, it is quite apparent that Brynn is not a popular citizen, as her appearance invokes scorn and derision, all conveyed by a floating camera that hovers nearby like a curious housefly.

So who does Brynn turn to when she discovers that someone has broken into her house? What measures will the nervous girl with the bad reputation take when it appears her intruder is not of this world?

There’s barely a soundtrack to serve up emotional cues—mostly a few ominous Bernard Hermann orchestral swells—so we’re as surprised as Brynn when aliens shows up prowling her pad.

No One Will Save You sucks in the viewer like a Texas Twister from the opening frame. Brynn is a friendless, reluctant heroine with a tragic past who nonetheless steps up when her home is threatened by ambitious extraterrestrials.

For the majority of the running time, it appears that the thing to do is cheer for Brynn, and remain hopeful. This course of action gets increasingly difficult when Duffield zooms out from her personal combat to reveal the state of the rest of society.

Soon, the question becomes, why fight it? Maybe subjugation isn’t such a bad deal. It could even be an effective way to work through crippling anxiety and childhood trauma.

Filmmaker Duffield has fashioned something rather remarkable with No One Will Save You. It’s a silent, sci-fi, home invasion thriller with heavy implications for us to consider, that still manages to be big-ticket entertainment.

Are we the bad guys here? If we weren’t so freaked out about defending our castles, maybe we’d learn something.

Big-time recommendation from this terrestrial citizen.

Dark Harvest (2023)

I’m going to make a bold prediction that Dark Harvest becomes a Halloween movie-night staple.

Alternately luminous and vicious, Dark Harvest is a captivating adaptation of Norman Partridge’s 2006 novel about a cursed small town that must destroy a local monster every time the calendar hits October 31.

In a seasonal swash of ultra violence, the legendary Sawtooth Jack, a pumpkin-headed demon, rises from the cornfield and is hunted by a posse of hungry high school boys. Jack must be killed before the church bells chime midnight, or the community will be plagued by storms and misfortune for an entire year.

It’s a tradition, you understand.

At harvest time, the boys from the local senior class are locked up for three days without food so they’re properly motivated to bring down Sawtooth Jack, a frightening and deadly foe that is nonetheless loaded with candy.

Director David Slade and writer Michael Gilio conjure magic, madness, and terror in a coming-of-age tale that pounces on the viewer like a midnight collaboration between Ray Bradbury (luminous) and Joe Lansdale (vicious)—with a bit of Hunger Games thrown in after some focus-group input.

Editor’s Note: The kids attend Bradbury High School.

Dark Harvest could have used more exposition and context, but the fevered sepia-toned sights of raving teenagers versus an uncanny enemy, is first-rate cinematic mayhem that actually does justice to its literary origins.

Make it a welcome addition to your annual festival of fright films, m’kay?

Leaving D.C. (2012)

Welcome to another edition of I Should Have Stayed In the City.

In Leaving D.C., a surprisingly anxiety inducing found-footage thriller, writer-director Josh Criss stars as Mark Klein, a 20-year veteran of working like a donkey as a technical writer in our nation’s capitol.

After achieving some measure of financial independence, Mark buys his “dream house” that comes with 17 acres of land—smack dab in the middle of Nowhere, West Virginia.

To chart his return to nature, Mark sends video updates to the members of his OCD support group back in Washington. These start out in relatively benign fashion, but it soon becomes apparent that our humble narrator is obsessed with the idea that he’s not alone in this remote wilderness.

Every night at a little after three in the morning, some form of disturbance takes place that causes the already anxious Mark Klein to devolve into a nervous wreck, despite the fact that he’s installed a state-of-the-art security system and even bought a handgun.

As an OCD sufferer myself, I found Mark’s slippery slope into extreme agitation a comically familiar one, as rational thinking is replaced with desperation and poor decision making.

The weirdest manifestation Mark has to deal with is flute playing right outside his window. In the middle of the woods. Miles from his nearest neighbor.

That would be enough for me to abandon ship, but Mark digs in his heels.

I don’t think I’m spoiling anything when I reveal that our man Mark is not up to the task of solving this mystery.

Instead, it solves him.

We are enthusiastically recommending Leaving D.C., and let it be a lesson to you.

Bodies, Bodies, Bodies (2022)

You think you know who your friends are? Would you bet your life on it?

Certainly the most frightening aspect of director Halina Reijn’s Bodies, Bodies, Bodies is that every relationship in a movie about lifelong friends under pressure is so damn fragile.

Or in some cases, nonexistent.

Sophie (Amandla Stenberg) is bringing her new girlfriend Bee (Maria Bakalova) to a magnificent mansion owned by the family of her best friend, Dave (Pete Davidson).

So there’s a hurricane brewing and a bunch of Richie Rich kids have the run of a big house. What could go wrong?

Everything!

While playing a game of Bodies, Bodies, Bodies, in which someone “kills” people in the dark, and the remaining players have to figure out whodunnit, Dave the host turns up with his throat cut.

There are seven remaining party guests—including one who isn’t present for most of the movie—and all it takes is one grisly corpse and abundant cocaine for a bunch of 20-somethings to turn on each other like rabid rats.

Outside a storm is raging. Inside, there are accusations, confessions, and pleas for mercy, followed by the thunk of more bodies hitting the floor.

The zeal with which these “friends” tear into each other could be blamed on the nose candy, but inevitably comes back around to the most obvious conclusion. Nobody knows anybody. Not that well.

If you’re just too ADD for Agatha Christie, Bodies, Bodies, Bodies should keep you guessing to the end, or at least till something shinier comes along.

Influencer (2022)

Oh, what a web she weaves.

With Influencer, writer-director Kurtis David Harder (Spiral) successfully binds dazzling visual elements with an intricately plotted story that just keeps twisting.

Madison (Emily Tennant), a beautiful travel blogger and media influencer, is unhappily flying solo on a backpacking trip through Thailand, when she meets CW (Cassandra Naud), a free-spirited adventurer who offers to show her around.

The mysterious CW is the polar opposite of pale blonde Madison, most notably due to a prominent birthmark on her face, though she too is unmistakably attractive.

The new-found friends explore the intoxicatingly exotic landscape until CW shockingly abandons Madison on an island with no food or water, and assumes her identity.

We learn that CW’s diabolical modus operandi has been used before, and spend the majority of Influencer riding shotgun with an extremely complicated woman with an apparent ax to grind against alluring travel bloggers.

The tone throughout reminded me of Patricia Highsmith, the author of Strangers on a Train and The Talented Mr. Ripley, novels about unlikely and conflicted villains marching to their own drummers.

Cassandra Naud, an actress with an actual facial birthmark, absolutely owns Influencer as an often inscrutable psychopath with ninja Photoshop skills. We might even discover a wee sliver of empathy for CW, a testament to the multiple layers of nuance that Naud brings to every scene.

Quick-thinking and resourcefulness are usually attributes we admire in a leading character. Is it unthinkable that it’s a Bad Guy (Gal)?

Recommended with no reservations.

Super Dark Times (2017)

I’d heard Super Dark Times compared to Stand By Me, but it reminds me more of a much grimmer movie that came out the same year (1986), Tim Hunter’s River’s Edge.

Known primarily as a launching pad for a young Keanu Reeves, it also came with barking mad performances from Dennis Hopper and Crispin Glover.

All three movies speak volumes about adolescent friendships put under stress by the presence of a dead body.

The resemblance to Stand By Me seems deliberate. At first glance, Super Dark Times appears to take place in one of those Stephen King-like clouds of sunny nostalgia based some time in the 1990s.

Boys on their bicycles, clunky portable phones with Walkie Talkie antennas, and a TV appearance by Bill Clinton anchor us firmly in the appropriate decade, much like Donnie Darko’s sister declaring her intent to vote for Michael Dukakis.

Zach (Owen Campbell) and Josh (Charlie Tahan) are high school best buds whiling away their virgin years in a small rural town that looks Norman Rockwell on the surface, with a noticeable David Lynch underbelly.

Their lives are mostly innocent fun punctuated with declarations of impending boy horniness until a terrible mishap claims the life of Daryl (Max Talisman), a pain-in-the-ass acquaintance whom no one wanted to hang out with in the first place.

Everyone agrees it was an accident that led to Daryl’s bleeding to death, and the decision is quickly made to bury his stupid body and play dumb.

Indeed, it’s the day-to-day mundanity of the average teen that director Ken Phillips and writers Luke Piotrowski and Ben Collins, get exactly right, to the point where we actually care about Zach’s budding relationship with dream girl Allison (Elizabeth Cappucino).

However, this isn’t a John Hughes film, either. Zach cannot be redeemed by love and Josh loses his way entirely.

Once the closest of friends, Zach and Josh now view each other with increasing suspicion, that builds fiendishly low and slow.

Josh becomes angry and distant while Zach can’t sleep due to vivid nightmares about their dark deed.

The inability of friends to trust each other with a hideous secret dooms the relationship and leads to an unexpectedly bloody finale, one that slays any notion of Super Dark Times taking place in a benign Stephen King universe.

More like Dateline with Keith Morrison.

SDT is a superb, riveting thriller as well as a brutally harsh coming-of-age story, with young protagonists that have yet to develop a moral center.

Enthusiastic recommendation from this corner. I ate it up like Junior Mints.

Spoonful of Sugar (2022)

Time for another installment of The Babysitter Saga, where we get to know the folks minding our precious offspring, while Mom and Dad sip martinis beneath a romantic moon, in search of dormant passion.

Spoonful of Sugar introduces us to Millicent (Morgan Saylor), an awkward college student hired to keep tabs on Johnny (Danilo Crovetti), a nonverbal autistic boy with a ton of allergies.

Johnny’s mother Rebecca (Kat Foster) is a successful writer married to Jacob (Myko Olivier), a hunky, shirtless carpenter that works from home.

Yes, this is a basic recipe for any number of Cinemax potboilers. Fortunately, director Mercedes Bryce Morgan and writer Leah Saint Marie have bigger fish to fry.

Nothing in the film is what it appears to be—it’s much, much worse, often to the point of absolute lunacy.

Millicent seems a virginal innocent, charged with caring for a seriously damaged child in an astronaut costume, whose parents are at the end of their ropes.

And that’s when Morgan brings her ingredients to a furious boil. Jacob and Millicent explore their animal attraction, even as the latter self-medicates with generous doses of LSD.

Historically (hysterically?), it could be argued that the combination of sex and drugs transforms Millicent into something evil, but the evidence presented indicates she’s already had a thriving career in the field, leaving a discreet stash of bodies in her wake.

It’s a calling she shares with young Johnny.

What ensues is a surreal, nightmarish custody battle, with both parties revealing a heart of darkness.

Millicent and Rebecca square off centerstage in a bloody contest of parenting styles, competing for Jacob, and the love of a mute boy with increasingly special needs of his own.

The outrageous extremes and shocking tableaux favored by Mercedes Bryce Morgan slow cook into a marvelously harrowing stew of taboos that satisfies a craving we didn’t even know we had.

Spoonful of Sugar is potentially dangerous medicine. Please consult your mad doctor before ingesting.