Little Deaths (2011)

I've been rolling the British-made Little Deaths around in my head since I watched it a few days ago, wondering what exactly to say about it. If you can't stop thinking about a horror movie - does that make it good? This is an odd one.

Little Deaths, as the name and the artwork suggests, is about sex and death. Two staples in our genre. Here we have three shorts collected together but without any wraparound or connecting threads. I suppose it's a bit like The ABC's of Death, with nothing but a common theme to unite the work.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I feel it works better with larger projects (like the alphabet). For this, when the credits rolled after the third story, it felt undercooked, somehow? I hadn't been keeping track of the time but I had assumed there'd be more than three segments in this anthology.

Anyhow, this trio of tales has elements of sex, death, and also revenge. House & Home (written/directed by Sean Hogan) seems to generally be considered the best of the three - at least judging by the Letterboxd reviews. It concerns an affluent couple whose hobbies include kidnapping and abusing young homeless women. This is a pretty typical "they picked on the wrong girl this time!" story, though the reveal wasn't quite what I was expecting. It's fine enough, but the degradation that comes before the payoff made me feel uneasy and kind of exhausted. 

Mutant Tool (written/directed by Andrew Parkinson) is bonkers but loses a lot of its impact due to its plodding plot. I am a fan of stories about imprisoned and exploited entities, so long as they escape and the captors get their comeuppance. This doesn't exactly happen here, but the ending is satisfactorily dark.

The third and final tale is Bitch (written/directed by Simon Rumley), and it's the one I've thought the most about post-viewing, but I honestly can't decide if I like it or not. 

Here, we witness the day-to-day goings on in an abusive relationship between Claire (Kate Braithwaite) and Pete (Tom Sawyer). Claire is mean and manipulative; she does what she wants and makes Pete feel bad until he goes along with it, treating him like shit in front of his friends as well as in private. They have a kinky "puppy play" situation where Pete wears a mask and leash, crawls around on all fours, and gets pegged by Claire (and sleeps in a kennel in the spare room) but we get the distinct impression that this is more for her enjoyment than his. Ultimately, after she literally fucks one of his friends right in front of him, Pete breaks. He begins to set up a revenge plot that preys upon her deepest fears.

This story is tough to watch, it goes without saying, as abuse is never a fun thing to witness. Sawyer does well in portraying Pete as a sweet bloke trapped in his relationship. He seems constantly agonised and yet the crumbs of affection or interest Claire throws him, plus the hope that things will improve are enough to keep him from leaving. 

Claire is - aptly, given the title - shown almost entirely as a bitch. A horrible, selfish, abusive woman. Her moments of phobia are the only glimpse we get into something deeper or less repulsive about this character. As the villain, I guess this makes sense, but it's a shame to see such broad strokes used. Tackling an abusive relationship from the lesser-represented side of a male survivor is refreshing, but painting Claire so one-dimensional makes it come across more like Rumley just fucking hates women. Her unpleasant fate is not entirely clear, and I hope this was the creator's intent and not an oversight. I won't spoil it, but I have my reasons for disagreeing with a few reads I've seen of what becomes of her.

(aside: well... yikes. I just found out that Rumley also directed the most upsetting segment of the aforementioned The ABC's of Death: P is for Pressure. So honestly, I'm not going to waste too much time wondering what his motivation was here).

I think what got to me most about Bitch was its use of music as it's made clear what Pete is doing. An emotive, uplifting instrumental plays over this montage, stopping with jarring immediacy on a shot of him weeping at what he's done. It's my favourite part of the entirety of Little Deaths, though I'm not sure it's enough to redeem the whole thing...

This is streaming on Shudder at time of writing. It's barely over 1hr30 so if you feel like gulping down three odd little stories, you could do a lot worse??

Ravenous / Les Affamés (2017)

Ravenous is a zombie movie that somehow manages to feel unlike any other I've seen. I was drawn to this one even before I saw some favourable chatter about it, because I live relatively close to Quebec, and if anything adds a little frisson to a horror movie, it's that sense of familiarity.

This little Netflix Original was written and directed by a Canadian actor, screenwriter and film director by the name of Robin Aubert, and it won the TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) Award for Best Canadian Film in 2017. I can see why :)

We join this world in the aftermath of an outbreak; long enough ago that everyone seems to know what the situation is, but not so long that they aren't still thinking about their lives before.

There's not much story to speak of, now that I actually think about it. The viewer is really just following the lives of several individuals whose paths intersect and overlap, as they try to survive in a rural town.

One of my favourite things about this film is the characters. The skill with which they are drawn for us, with such speed too - and without resorting to tired old tropes. These people feel fully developed and real, and like real people there aren't any black and white heroes and villains. Everyone is a little soft, a little hard; a lot scared about what's going to happen. These people are written so well it made me realise how we're forced to put up with poorly constructed characters so frequently.

Ravenous is nearly 2hrs long, and I am not going to say that it goes by quickly. This film is incredibly slow and considered, and yet nothing feels like padding. The moments of misty stillness over the fields and forests are important, because being quiet is important in this new world.

When the silence is shattered, it is with the sounds of bullets, bludgeoning, and inhuman screaming. In fact Ravenous uses sound to great effect, with the suffocating/protective forests deadening the noises of approach or altercation, or the empty farmhouses and hideaways; all hard surfaces and outdated decor. This movie feels incredibly... acoustic.

So with the aural taken care of, let's move on to the visual. This film is stunningly atmospheric in places.

Again, Aubert makes some simple but highly effective choices, subtle camera movements, angles, and framing choices add a visual flair that really excited me. Mist is used often but not overdone, to cloak the surroundings in a blanket that simultaneously softens and masks the threats. A world of zombie carnage is rarely shown as beautiful as this (if ever? Correct me if I'm wrong!).

In its third act, things become mysterious, bordering on the supernatural. The zombies are shown congregating and possibly even building structures. These scenes are so unsettling and they raise way more questions than they answer. To see these monsters so still and silent is baffling, almost sad?  

Opening with a short string of cheap-ish jump scares, I advise you to hold on, to be rewarded with an affecting and thoughtful tale of humans caught up in chaos, and all the bleakness and the hope that such a tale must embody. Highly recommended! 

(And being one of its Originals, hopefully destined to be streaming on Netflix for a good while 👍🏼).

Extras:

• Just gonna say it, I'm absolutely delighted when a zombie film has the zeds leaving animals alone. We have cows, horses, kittens(!) and dogs in this. Yes, in a post-apocalyptic world their lives aren't going to be great, but at least we don't see them ripped apart by zombies!
• These ghouls seem more cognizant and that's so fascinating to me. The scene in the field with the young woman looking and looking away was so good!
• Stay and watch the credits. For the director's first thank you/dedication (below) and the post-credit scene that might make you happy, if you're weird like I am.

1922 (2017)

Written by Stephen King as a novella, and directed and adapted for the screen by Zak Hilditch, 1922 is slow and simple. It's an age old tale of how easy it is to plot cold-blooded murder - and how impossible it becomes to live with the guilt.

Thomas Jane (another of my "He's in it? Okay, I'll watch it" actors) is Wilfred James, a farmer in Nebraska, in 1922. Wilfred is a proud man, and when he and wife Arlette (Molly Parker) disagree on what should happen to a recent inheritance of land, the consequence of their differing opinions leads to the first violent episode in a year-long run of bloodshed and bad news.

He turns their son Henry (Dylan Schmid) against his mother during secret talks amongst the corn,  and plots Arlette's murder, little suspecting what nightmares - real and imaginary - this is going to bring down upon himself and anyone close to the family.

1922 is an uncomplicated, tragic tale. While I wouldn't say I was scared, necessarily, it definitely has its moments both of eerie dread and the jarringly gruesome. 

Rats play a large, symbolic part, seeming to burrow into and "infect" the world around Wilfred, mirroring the guilt and madness pulsing and growing within his soul. 

Serving this purpose the rodents are obviously vilified throughout the film, and while that makes sense, it also made me a bit sad, as a rat fan... To this day rats get a bad rap, and this movie certainly doesn't do anything to help that! 🐭

A warning: There are a number of grisly animal scenes in this movie. I looked away more during this than I can remember doing in a while, Even if I'm 99% certain the animals are fine on film sets now, I still don't need to see the impressive CGI of a crushed rat or a cow with a broken back :(. So just know those are coming and be ready, if you are sensitive to that kind of stuff like I am.

King fans will enjoy some recurring motifs too, such as the well (reminiscent of Dolores Claiborne) and the inherently sinister towering cornfields (Children of the Corn, The Stand) plus, according to IMDb trivia, connections to The Mist and The Dark Tower.

You certainly don't need a shelf of Stephen King books to appreciate this, however. Give it a try if you're looking for something gloomy to fall asleep thinking about.

This is another Netflix original, so it's streaming there right now.

Pet Sematary (1989)

Having always shied away from watching this due to obvious concerns of dead/dying animals, tonight I was feeling brave and ventured forth. I was happy to see that there's minimal animal trauma - maybe even less than a normal horror movie!

Directed by Mary Lambert - a woman! Shouldn't be a cause for celebration, but it still is! - this was originally meant to be a Romero flick. Due to delays in filming George had to split on the project, so Lambert stepped in as director of this little beauty, based off of Stephen King's own screenplay.

Fact: Mary Lambert also directed Madonna's "Like A Prayer" video 🙏🏻

Quick Pet Sematary plot summary for anyone such as myself who honestly was clueless about it: A happy family of four (dad Louis, mum Rachel, young daughter Ellie and toddler son Gage) move into an idyllic house in the Maine countryside. The place is lovely - apart from the fact it's directly next to a road that Mack trucks come speeding down with alarming regularity.

They have an old man neighbour across the way, Jud Crendell (Fred Gwynne: Herman Munster!) who helpfully explains to the family that the path they see going into the woods from their backyard leads to a "Pet Sematary" (the sign is misspelled, hence the title is too). The place is pretty cool looking, and being there results in some pondering on death and loss - much to the annoyance of Rachel (Denise Crosby).

She wants to shelter her kids from the subject of death. Seems healthy! Though she does have her reasons...

In any case, when Rachel and the children are visiting her parents for Thanksgiving, the family cat, "Church" - short for Winston Churchill - a gorgeous Russian Blue, gets run over. To spare Ellie the pain of losing her beloved pet, Jud leads Louis through the Pet Sematary and up a hill, emerging at a Native American burial site. 

For reasons not made wholly clear, Jud encourages the burial of the dead moggy here, even though he knows from personal experience that this soil has "sour" resurrection properties.

Louis is like "yeah, right" and then "holy shit!" when Church actually does come back, but this kitty isn't happy and spends the rest of the film hissing with glowy eyes. He's not the cat he was.

So you see where this is going. Young children, speeding trucks, an ancient Indian burial ground? Yup, Church isn't the only being brought back to life during this runtime. But as Jud later says, "the person you put up there ain't the person who comes back...", and as tempting as it is to try and reclaim a lost loved one rather than deal with that loss... "sometimes dead is better."

Things get a lot "better" before the end credits.

Negotiating child death in a film is not easy, and Pet Sematary does it pretty excellently all while still giving the audience gasp-worthy moments. We don't see the accident, but we are shown a bloody little shoe. Similarly, we only ever get glimpses of Gage's tiny corpse, never a full on look at it. This builds the tension to when we actually see him again.

And Gage is completely adorable in life, so even though it's not a shock he dies; it is sad. When he returns... well, he's an adorable little monster.

An adorable little KILLING MACHINE monster.

Favourite moment alert: When his doctor father injects his neck to "put him back to sleep" - father's words, creepy much? - in an amazing scene (below), and he toddles off whimpering "no fair!". It's... it's perfect.

I haven't even mentioned Ellie's psychic abilities, Rachel's nightmarish sister, or Victor Pascow, the ghost jogger acting as a kind of spirit guide to the family. 

He first encounters Louis right before dying, and then continues to manifest throughout, offering warnings and handy advice, such as proper name pronunciation and tips on hiring a rental car!

My verdict on this film? Way less animal death than the name would suggest and a satisfyingly sad tale to boot. I wish I hadn't taken so long to see it!

Black Sheep (2006)

Take one of the least scary animals you can think of, throw in some mad scientists and some animal activists and let's have a party!

"There are 40 million sheep in New Zealand... and they're pissed off!"

Black Sheep is basically a zombie movie. Genetically engineered sheep escape and spread their murderous virus through the flock and onto human visitors and workers of a New Zealand sheep farm. 

Bitten humans don't have long before they are sporting hooves and big teeth, eventually transforming in terrifying "weresheep" (and mint sauce burns them like holy water!). One of these transformations is pretty reminiscent of the standard-setting one from An American Werewolf In London and it was no surprise to learn that Weta Workshops were behind the FX for this. They are LEGIT.

Bad news: There is, obviously, scenes of animals getting hurt in this movie.

Good news: They aren't real ones. Aside from a bunny being gutted for dinner (it's already dead) all of the attack sheep are just really realistic looking special effects.

I have to confess that much of my enjoyment came from simply watching the real sheep act. Seeing their adorable woolly bodies running around and being made to look like they were scoping out their kill was so much fun.

...But that isn't to say that this doesn't entertain in the way it was intended though, because it does. As the premise suggests, it's a ridiculously over the top movie, but it's a lot of fun. And I was initially hesitant, as (and I'm hoping this doesn't get my gore hound card revoked) I never made it all the way through the bloody rubbery insanity of Braindead, and this movie is that meets Evil Dead.

Zoltan... Hound of Dracula (1978).

With almost as many canine cast members as human, this is a rare thing: a horror film where it seems as though the pooches have a fighting chance... nay, emerge victorious!

*punches air in freeze frame*

Bitchin' title screen!

 Bitchin' poster, tagline and alternate title! (from here)

Okay, Zoltan, Hound of Dracula, I'm listening. 

Well of course it made sense I should watch this. I'd have to be sillier than a box of puppies not to give it a whirl!

Bringing to mind Food of the Gods (thankfully minus the [at least overt] animal cruelty) and countless others, Zoltan is that special kind of 70s "so bad it's good" horror flick. It's one to get the beers and popcorn in for, get some friends round and repeatedly splutter together, at the straight-faced silliness of it all.

So let me introduce you to Zoltan. He's a hellhound Doberman with an intense stare and a pursed lipped, wrinkly-faced master.

 

 Why are you laughing? This is deadly serious!

The plot is simple: hound and half-vampire companion get resurrected and travel to the States to find Count Dracula's ancestor. The guy in question - who is a bit of an annoying dick, actually - is on holiday with his wife, children, family dogs and... a box of puppies.

Puppies! Puppies. How happy was I?!

I think the best way to approach Zoltan is to discuss what we can learn from it. There are an awful lot of lessons here. Very important lessons. Are we ready? Then I shall begin.

When standing guard over a crypt marked with the family name "Dracula", feel free to remove the stake from any of the inhabitants. It's fiiine, go for it.

Make your mouth look like a bum hole when addressing your hellhound.

Putting big fake teeth on a Doberman will suffice in conveying its hellhoundness.

When in the middle of nowhere, let your children, dogs and puppies sleep outside the RV, whilst you cosy up inside.

Puppies can get bitten too :(

:(

My absolute favourite. Take a shot of a dog yawn and with the help of fake blood and canny dubbing, viola! It's a terrifying howl!

Two dogs can tear the shit out of a little wooden hut in a matter of minutes.

The best type of barricade is one comprised of a blanket jammed into an open window. That'll keep the evil out!

 

Don't be afraid to get a little Cujo with proceedings.

A severed owl head = bad omen. Obviously.

Zombie puppy!

Wait, what?!

Okay I may have completely lost the already skittish thread by the end, there.

What isn't pictured:

• Hurling a dog at someone from off screen is the same as the dog leaping of its own accord (couldn't cap this as it was too blurry/I was laughing too much). 
• All of the dogs in the film will have the same two dubbed barks; hey, why not bung some elephant and chimp sounds into the mix, too?

So then, file this one under "chortles rather than screams" - but there's nothing wrong with that! The beauty of this genre we all love so much is that it happily encompasses both. 

Right, I'm off to throw some dogs...

Frogs (1972).

This is a film for the genre in the loosest sense. But only someone with a heart of stone can resist 1970s eco-horror! Especially when Frogs has a poster like this:

And a trailer like this:(NB: the quicksand death was deemed too silly and changed in the final cut)

Frogs! Killer frogs! Not giant, man-eating ones like that poster suggests, but still.

Actually hang on, they're not even technically killer frogs. We never see them attack anyone... hmm. If anything they seem to be overseeing things; the entire film is interspersed with shots of frogs looking.

"Our plan is coming together nicely sir..."

If there was ever any doubt over the question "Can frogs be scary?" I think we have an answer. Even en masse, they are still just a big pile o'frogs. Not exactly nightmare material. Even when clawing at the window, it's funny more than anything.

Lemme in!

So watch this expecting to be charmed, rather than terrified. Unless you have ranidaphobia, I suppose.

Any horror to be found here is probably in the fashions...

Yeah okay, that was a cheap shot.

Seriously though, the beauty of Frogs lies in the fact the concept is pretty much ridiculous (as a nod to this, the title should have had an exclamation mark: Frogs!) but it's all played entirely, fabulously straight.

An eco-system retaliating against humans who've been trying to kill it off sounds like a right-on idea, with a plausible amount of scares. Yet here, despite most of the critters involved having earned many horror airmiles - snakes, spiders, leeches, alligators - there are only a couple of moments where the viewer isn't giggling.

Leeches to the face, urrgh.

Watching a character limply fending off Spanish moss, though? Pardon me if the goosebumps take a while with that one. No really, don't wait around, I'll call you when it happens.

Lead Sam Elliott, as hunky hero Pickett Smith, strides around the Florida swampland in his denim outfit, frowning at the pollution and discovering bodies. Later, he urges the others to give up the fight and leave the area. Do they listen? Do they 'eck.

Those who aren't murdered, flee. Leaving only crotchety grandpa to stubbornly stay, as the animals take over his estate.

"I will not have my fourth of July schedule disrupted...!" he bellows. You may have to share your cake then, pops.

I think I need more nature-revenge films in my life. I think we all do.