13 Nights of Shocktober: The Others

 by A.J.

Night 7: Ghost Story Night

“Sometimes the world of the dead gets mixed up with the world of the living.”

The Others

Good ghost stories on film are hard to come by, especially haunted house stories. They usually end up pivoting to demons or possession/exorcism stories. It doesn’t help that any recent haunted house movie has two spectacular pillars to stand up against, each on opposite ends of the spectrum: Poltergeist (1982) on the macabre, even grotesque, special effects heavy end and The Haunting (1963) on the minimalist, atmospheric, psychological end. Spanish writer-director Alejandro Amenàbar’s The Others (2001) rests firmly and comfortably alongside The Haunting''s end of the haunted house spectrum in both the style of ghost story and its quality. 

Set on the English Channel island of Jersey at the end of the Second World War, Nicole Kidman plays Grace, an Englishwoman living in an isolated house with her children, Anne and Nicholas. She does everything she can to protect her children from sunlight because of their dangerous photosensitivity for which there is no cure (though it is not mentioned in the film, this is a real condition called Xeroderma Pigmentosum, or X.P., and before the modern era, children with this condition rarely lived to adulthood). She hires three new servants and instructs them that the curtains must be kept closed at all times and doors must be locked before another one is opened to keep the light out. But things go bump in the night and during the daytime too. The piano which Grace keeps locked up is played mysteriously at night. Anne, the oldest of the children, says she sees and talks to a boy, Victor, who says that the house belongs to his family and Anne and her family will have to leave. The servants seem suspicious, especially Mrs. Mills (Fionnula Flanagan), who is certainly keeping a secret or two from Grace. This is all typical haunted house stuff; almost by the numbers haunted house stuff. The trick director Amenàbar pulls off is staging these scenes effectively through building a foreboding gothic atmosphere. At the center of everything is Nicole Kidman’s performance; we feel her fear so a thing like seeing all of the curtains suddenly missing becomes a frightening sight. 

Anne’s drawing of the Others is appropriately creepy but also a believable child’s drawing. Grace teaching the children the grimmer parts of religion, of the different levels of hell, and a story of two child martyrs and children’s limbo adds as much to the eerie atmosphere as the perpetual fog. There is something inherently spooky about a woman holding a candle or lantern walking down a dark hallway or into a dark room. Since the house has no electricity there are several moments like this. The movie’s signature scene happens when Grace leaves Anne alone in a room wearing her communion dress then comes back and finds something wrong. In a brilliant stroke, the resolution to this scene has the camera swish pan from Kidman not to her daughter but across the room to Kidman’s reaction reflected in a mirror. My favorite scene is simple and expertly done. Grace hears loud footsteps and noises upstairs. She sees that the servants are outside and her children are not upstairs, yet the noises persist. It is a perfect blending of cinematic technique and an actor's performance that puts the audience in the mental and emotional state of the character, allowing us to feel the character’s fear and creating horror.

In the wake of The Sixth Sense it felt like every movie about the supernatural had to have a twist, whether it worked or not. Fortunately, like The Sixth Sense, the secret of The Others enhances the overall viewing experience. Everything that has happened before is cast in a new light, but, most important of all for any twist, it makes sense. The Others plays fair. Whether you guess the conclusion or have seen it before, The Others remains highly effective and very spooky.

The Others is available to stream on The Criterion Channel and Shudder. It is also available on Blu-ray/DVD from The Criterion Collection and is probably at your local library.

13 Nights of Shocktober: The Uncanny

 by A.J.

Night 6: Anthology Horror Night

“It was the cat that did it.”

The Uncanny

It’s good for a horror anthology to have a theme to keep it on track and tie the stories together, even in a loose way; it makes the collection a more satisfying and cohesive experience. The 1977 horror anthology The Uncanny has perhaps the best possible theme: cats. The legendary Peter Cushing plays an author who is finally ready to reveal his latest book, which will make public how cats are actually intelligent and devious creatures who seek to control and even kill humans. His potential publisher, played by Ray Milland, is very skeptical, so Cushing tells him three stories that will prove the murderous nature of cats. If that sounds silly, that’s because, well, it is. If it sounds like not that much of a stretch because cats are clever and intelligent, that’s because, well, they are. The Uncanny takes full advantage of the unlikely combination of  deviousness and cuteness in such a creature. This movie never asks you to take it seriously and thus is quite entertaining. 

The first story is set in London in 1912. Joan Greenwood plays the wealthy Ms. Malkin who has cut her nerdowell nephew out of her will and left everything to her cats. Her housemaid, Janet (Susan Penhaligon), overhears this and alerts the nephew, with whom she is having an affair. He tells her to steal the will and Janet complies but is caught and smothers Ms. Malkin. The only witnesses are the cats who are determined on revenge. In Quebec 1975 young Lucy (Katrina Holden Bronson), whose parents recently died, is sent to live with her aunt, uncle, and cousin. Lucy’s only comfort is her beloved cat Wellington but her aunt can’t wait to get rid of Wellington and Lucy’s books about magic, tarot, and witchcraft. Wellington is sent away to be put down but escapes and returns and for revenge. In the final story, set in Hollywood in 1936, Donald Pleasence stars as Valentine De’ath whose wife tragically dies of an “accident” while on a movie set. He suggests that the production should continue with his mistress, Edina (Samantha Eggar), taking over his late wife’s role. He never paid attention to his wife’s cat, whose name he doesn’t remember, nor is he aware that the cat is actually a female. When he finds that the cat has a litter of newborn kittens, he drowns them in the toilet (off screen). If any cat ever deserved her revenge it is this cat and she gets quite inventive. Neither Cushing’s or Milland’s character seems to realize that the cats in these stories, though murderous, are not actually evil. They only seek revenge after being wronged.

Each of these segments and the interstitials with Cushing and Milland are filled with countless shots of staring cats set to ominous music. The laughs that come when a tiny fake paw darts out and scratches Janet’s hand every time she tries to reach for the will are perhaps unintended but fun. The same goes for shots of the cat in the Hollywood story trotting on the catwalk of the soundstage and chewing through the rope of an overhead light.

The London 1912 story is more of a thriller story. Janet was not able to clean up the crime scene before being attacked by the cats so she cannot answer the door or phone for help and is basically trapped. The Quebec segment is perhaps the weakest. The most shocking revelation of this story should be not that cats understand injustice, but that witchcraft is real. It has a dark joke of an ending that plays like a punchline that doesn’t really work. The third segment has dark humor that works. Pleasence does a great job playing an overly serious hammy actor. 

There’s comedy in every scene where an adult human is outwitted and outfought by a cat. A scene where a cat jumps on a man and rips his throat out and then runs off is ridiculous but also kind of scary. Some of the effects are dated (fake paws and fake cats) but others are still effectively gruesome. Peter Cushing is 100 percent committed to being frightened and paranoid about cats. He is doing the work of believing the incredulous premise so that we can just be entertained. Aside from one or two graphic horror images, this makes for a great and enjoyable movie for the more squeamish crowd. The Uncanny has everything you’d want in a Shocktober movie: some scares, great acting, a sense of fun, and lots and lots of cats.

The Uncanny is available to stream for free on Tubi and Plex.  

13 Nights of Shocktober: Shadow of a Doubt

 by A.J. 

Night 5: Hitchcock Night/Suburban Horror Night II

“Do you know if you ripped the front off houses you’d find swine? The world is a hell.”

Shadow of a Doubt

Master filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock directed so many truly great movies that even several of his less famous movies are among his greatest and the greatest of any era. Shadow of a Doubt is not as famous as Rear Window, Vertigo, Psycho, or North by Northwest, but it is secretly one of his greatest movies. At first it may seem like a slight or minor movie given its small scale and quaint setting, however these aspects belie its dark and unsettling plot. It is also the epitome of Hitchcock’s ultimate career long theme: danger is always lurking and will come at the most unexpected time in the most unexpected form to someone who feels completely safe.

The stars, Joseph Cotton and Teresa Wright, are two of my favorite classic era performers. This movie is where I first saw them. The setting is Santa Rosa, California, a town so average it could be Anytown, USA. It is so idyllic and cozy that things like crime and murder and even war don’t seem possible there, even though the year is 1943. There is no trace of darkness in the home of Young Charlie, that is until Uncle Charlie arrives. 

Teenage Young Charlie (Teresa Wright) is discontent with the mundanity of suburban comfort and longs for something to rejuvenate her family. The change comes with the arrival of lively and charming Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotton), who does indeed recharge the household dynamic. He also brings darkness that Young Charlie could not have imagined. Though mother Emma (Patricia Collinge)–Hitchcock’s last sympathetic portrayal of a mother–delights in having her brother with her, the real connection is between the two Charlies. The very morning she planned on sending him a telegram to come visit, the family receives a telegram that Uncle Charlie is on his way. No one has any suspicions that he is possibly The Merry Widow Murderer.

There are a lot of things I like about Shadow of a Doubt, but what makes it special are the performances of Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotton. They are excellent choices to play average Americans while still being distinct. Joseph Cotton rarely played a villain but he does a fantastic job playing a complex character that is as sinister as he is charming. He never does anything forthrightly villainous, at least not for most of the movie, but he behaves just suspicious enough for Young Charlie to have doubts about him. In Cotton’s best scene Uncle Charlie’s jovial mask begins to slip and delivers a speech brimming with contempt and disgust about rich windows: “[Husbands] die and leave their money to their wives, their silly wives, .... these useless women...drinking the money, losing the money… faded, fat, greedy women.”

As Young Charlie, Teresa Wright is fresh-faced and lively, at first. She is perhaps naïve but she is not dull or dim. Once her suspicions are raised, she does detective work of her own and puts the pieces and clues together. The scene where she finds the newspaper story about the Merry Widow Murderer that Uncle Charlie hid from the family is an effective one. Hitchcock wanted the camera instead of Wright to gasp so it pulls back from a close-up to a wide overhead shot. My favorite moment comes when Young Charlie finally makes her appearance at a dinner party as Uncle Charlie is about to give a toast. She descends the stairs wearing the ring he gave her, a ring she now realizes is evidence. The camera pushes in from a wide shot of Charlie to a close up of the ring. Neither she nor Uncle Charlie say anything about the ring, but the tone of the entire scene changes for her and him and the audience though it remains the same for the other characters. 

That things are not what they seem and pleasant appearances and behavior belie a hidden menace were frequent themes of Hitchcock’s movies. Just about every Hitchcock movie dealt with the dark side of human nature and society to some degree. This is especially pronounced in Shadow of a Doubt. Perhaps the darkest sequence is when Uncle Charlie takes his niece to a seedy bar to confront her about her suspicions. Smoke fills the bar and their waitress is a former classmate of Young Charlie’s who wears a bitter, dour expression, looks at her and says, “I never thought I’d see you here.” When he realizes that he cannot charm her any longer, Uncle Charlie tells her how little she knows about the world. His words are harsh and cynical but they sting because there is truth in them. This scene is similar to the sequence in David Lynch’s Blue Velvet where young and naïve Jeffery (Kyle MacLachlan) goes to Lincoln Avenue, the bad and dangerous part of his small, quaint town, and sees and learns harsh realities. I do not know for sure how much Shadow of a Doubt influenced Blue Velvet but the two films share similar themes and would make a great double feature. (Shadow of a Doubt certainly had a more direct influence on the film Stoker, a previous Shocktober recommendation, which is also about a newly arrived sinister Uncle Charlie who casts a spell over his niece). The ending might feel anticlimactic but it turns out to be a subversive conclusion fitting for this surprisingly dark and challenging classic.

Shadow of a Doubt airs on TCM on Sunday, October 26th at 9PM CT and might be at your local library.

13 Nights of Shocktober: Mulholland Drive

by A.J.

Night 4: David Lynch Memorial Night

“I hope that I never see that face, ever, outside of a dream.”

Mulholland Drive

Earlier this year the great David Lynch passed away at the at age of 78 and his loss was greatly felt by fans and cinephiles. I never considered myself a fan but his death affected me more than I expected. It wasn’t until relatively recently that I came to appreciate his films and style. I think what really helped was that I realized his films are not puzzles to be solved. There are no answers because that was never the point. The point was what the experience made you feel. There was something very sincere and even endearing in the experience that he wanted to give the viewer.

Of all his notable films, Mulholland Drive has come to be regarded as Lynch’s masterpiece, at least by film critics. In terms of indecipherableness, Mulholland Drive rests in a sweet spot between being frustratingly incomprehensible like Inland Empire or Lost Highway and being relatively straight forward with some oddness here and there like Blue Velvet or Wild at Heart. I don’t mean to suggest that Mulholland Drive is decipherable but it is certainly less intimidating than the 3-hour surreal odyssey of Inland Empire. Mulholland Drive may not technically be a horror movie but it is frightening at times and unsettling throughout. The first time I saw it was late at night and it so unnerved me that I did not want to go to sleep. 

The plot oscillates between a fun amateur detective story and a strange, dark Noir. Naomi Watts plays fresh faced Betty who has just moved to Los Angeles to pursue her dream of being an actress. She is so impossibly innocent and kind hearted that when she finds another woman (Laura Harring) showering in her aunt’s vacant apartment she assumes the woman is a friend of her aunt. Actually the woman doesn’t know who she is but we know she barely escaped being murdered and was in a bad car accident. She calls herself Rita after a poster of Rita Hayworth and Betty befriends her and becomes determined to find out Rita’s lost identity. There is also the plot involving Adam (Justin Theroux), a young movie director being forced to cast a specific actress by mysterious men in suits. The plots do converge though not in a conventional way. 

What makes this a horror movie, more than any of the surreal, frightening imagery are the ideas at play. Dreams, nightmares, and what is really real loom large and foreboding over Mulholland Drive; not being sure which is which seems to be the main theme of the movie, at least for me. If you ever wondered what it is like to be trapped in a dream or not know whether you are awake or dreaming, this is a good example. Lynch rejected being labeled a surrealist, though that is the easiest way to describe his approach to films and television. Of course, the best adjective is Lynchian, though you have to watch a few of his movies before you understand what that entails, and even then the term has been defined only loosely. Lynchian can refer to how his films often presented a seemingly idyllic setting only to reveal the dark secrets and hidden violence known but not spoken of (Blue Velvet is a good example of this). It can refer to nightmarish but captivating imagery mixed with the mundane (Eraserhead, Lost Highway). It can refer just to the overall ominous mood that dominates whatever is on screen no matter how cheery or mundane it may seem. More than a story or theme, it is a mood or feeling that Lynch wants his films to convey. 

The scariest moment happens in a seemingly unrelated scene with minor characters. Dan (Patrick Fischler, a character actor who you’ll recognize even if you don’t recognize the name) meets with a friend at Winkie’s Diner and tells him about a dream. In the dream he is at Winkie’s Diner with that friend who is standing in line to pay and he is terrified and realizes that there is a “man” behind the restaurant making him scared. Dan brought his friend there to prove to himself that there is nothing to the dream. Then the friend gets up to pay and Dan realizes that the dream is happening. They go outside behind the restaurant and what happens is maybe the most effective jump-scare in film history, even though, like Dan, you know what is going to happen. Did he make the dream come true? Was he having the dream again? His experience is the same whether what happens is real or not, so does it matter? This dilemma reflects Betty’s experience, even in the surreal third act. It also reflects a real life fear that many people have, that in trying to find comfort in disproving something they make it true. 

Mulholland Drive began as a TV pilot for ABC, the same network that produced Lynch’s beloved and classic series Twin Peaks, but the network canceled the pilot after an illfated early morning preview. After a year of negotiations, Lynch secured additional funding from the French production company Canal+, wrote 18 additional pages, reassembled the cast, and turned the failed pilot into a movie. You can probably guess the point where the pilot ends and the additional scenes begin. Yet, this provides another possible point for where dreams or reality stop, or start. A TV pilot typically contains many starting points for a series to expand upon in later episodes. This happens here but not every character or plot is expanded  or tied together, at least not in a conclusive way. My favorite of these false starts is the inept hitman. The most disturbing is the character of the Cowboy who meets with Adam the director and tells him, “Now... you will see me one more time, if you do good. You will see me... two more times, if you do bad.” 

You’ll hear or read that the first two thirds of the movie are a dream and the final third is the nightmarish reality. Of course the first two thirds could be a reality unrecognizable to us and the final third is a nightmare, quotidian and grim by comparison. Maybe the dream had a nightmare? One of the very first images we see is someone under bedsheets. Is everything after a dream? Was it Betty in bed? Or Rita? Or Diane? Or Camilla? Even Adam? Lynch, famously, would never answer direct questions about the meaning of his movies. When asked about symbolism or meaning of Mulholland Drive he would wryly answer with statements like “I think you know” or respond to an interpretation with a simple and definitive but polite, “No.” He began his career as an artist and painter, then an avant-garde experimental filmmaker before making his first feature, Eraserhead. I think understanding Lynch’s career path goes a long to way to understanding not the meaning but the purpose of his films. He created the work, set it out, and it is up to the viewer to provide the interpretation.

Mullholland Drive is available to rent on AppleTV and Fandango At Home. It is also available on DVD & Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection and probably at your local library.

13 Nights of Shocktober: Summer of 84

 by A.J.

Night 3: Suburban Horror Night I

“Even serial killers live next door to somebody.”

Summer of 84

The poster for Summer of ‘84 makes it seem like a hokey 80’s throwback or something intentionally campy. I admit I was skeptical of this random find–an independent Canadian production that received a marginal theatrical release and was essentially a direct to streaming movie–especially when I saw that there were 3 credited directors, but this is actually a solid suspense picture and coming of age story that draws on Hitchcock as much as it does any of the 1980s movies it references. The screenplay, production design, and costumes are steeped in the specific kind of 80’s nostalgia ushered in by Stranger Things. The basic premise shares similarities with Stranger Things, among many other movies and television series: 4 teenage boys investigate something mysterious and have an adventure of sorts. They even ride bikes, but the similarities end there. More than Stranger Things or even Rear Window, Summer of ‘84 is on the same wavelength as David Lynch’s Blue Velvet and Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt; these are films young people who discover the dark and shocking secrets of their seemingly perfect small towns.

The idea is simple enough: even serial killers live next door to somebody. 15 year old Davey (Graham Verchere) becomes concerned that his neighbor, amiable local police officer Mackey (Rich Sommer), is secretly the Cape May Killer, responsible for a series of disappearances of young teen boys. Davey recruits his friends Woody, “Eats”, and Curtis to help investigate. At first it is nothing more than another game to them but then evidence begins to accumulate. The plot more or less unfolds how you expect but it is well done regardless and there are some truly tense scenes. The eerie synth score is highly effective in creating an unsettling and mysterious mood. 

The teenagers are all well played though some get more backstory than others. They are recognizable in the way they talk and in their behavior, likeable or not. They let each other spend the night to avoid troubled home lives. They insult each other affectionately. Like all teenage boys they are sex obsessed and routinely try to spy on Davey’s former babysitter and neighbor, Nikki (Tiera Skovbye). She gets enough of a backstory and is played well enough by Skovbye to be more than eye candy or a potential trophy. Davey’s conversations with her reveal that she is bound for Stanford and dealing with her parents’ divorce. Woody (Caleb Emery) is dealing with his overworked, alcoholic mother. “Eats” (Judah Lewis) is dealing with his possibly abusive father and quarrelling parents. 

What really makes Summer of 84 something special is its final act and resolution. Up to this point things unfold as you might expect but then the story takes a decidedly dark turn. The final confrontation between Davey and Mackey is all the more terrifying for how unconventional it is. Davey’s final scenes fit the harsh reality that was the 1980’s, with the dim outlook that many had about their present and potential future. This tone will probably resonate with people watching in 2025. Still this movie is not mean; it is not grim for the sake of being grim or shocking for the sake of being different. Teenage anxiety and the fear of things yet to come that is dismissed by adults never really goes away or becomes less felt (it just becomes general anxiety). In the season one finale of Mad Men, Don Draper tells Kodak executives that nostalgia is Greek for the “pain from an old wound.” I think Davey would agree. That is the kind of nostalgia on display here. 

Summer of 84 is available to stream for free on Kanopy and Hoopla (Kanopy has the better quality transfer).

13 Nights of Shocktober: Rosemary's Baby (1968)

 by A.J. 

Night 2: New Hollywood Horror Night

“This is no dream. This is really happening!”

Rosemary's Baby (1968)

In 1968 two films were released that would forever change the landscape of horror movies: Rosemary’s Baby and George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. Prior to these films, most horror films were period pieces and fantasies set in castles with period costumes and monsters. Universal monster movies of the 1930’s and the British Hammer Films and Roger Corman produced movies of the late 50’s and early to mid-60’s typified the genre. Both Rosemary’s Baby and Night of the Living Dead had contemporary settings—though Rosemary’s Baby is technically set two or three years before it was released—and approached their respective plots with a stark realism missing from most horror movies (Val Lewton’s horror movies for RKO in the 1940’s being the exception). It is hard to believe that a dark and disturbing movie like Rosemary’s Baby had such broad appeal upon its release. It's hard to believe that Rosemary’s Baby has sustained its appeal over the decades. Even today it casts its creepy spell and people who say they do not like horror movies will watch Rosemary’s Baby.

I think the most difficult thing for a modern viewer to understand is that the movie’s final revelation is supposed to be a twist. Like Psycho (1960) and Planet of the Apes (also released in 1968), the final twist is maybe the most famous thing about the movie. Both Ira Levin’s novel and the film adaptation play up suspicions about witches, witchcraft, and secret covens. All of the evidence Rosemary finds points to her new neighbors, friends, and doctor being part of a coven but she does not guess the true nature of her pregnancy. She comes to believe that they plan to sacrifice her baby in some sort of ritual.

Mia Farrow gives her signature performance as Rosemary Woodhouse. She is not a damsel but she is a person unaware of the danger around them until it is too late. Her petite figure accentuated by her pixie haircut (it’s “Vidal Sassoon” she says to everyone taken aback by her short hair) visually enhances that sense of looming danger. This only increases with her pregnancy. The stress of an unusual pregnancy, changing personality of her husband, and her isolation, paranoia, and realization that the circle of people she can trust is shrinking are effectively portrayed by Farrow. 

It is interesting that Rosemary’s Baby was such a watershed for horror movies, yet it began as a more conventional horror movie. William Castle, the B-movie producer famous for cheesy horror movies that used outlandish gimmicks (most famously rigging certain seats with buzzers for The Tingler), wanted to try his hand at more serious filmmaking. He optioned the rights to Ira Levin’s novel and planned to direct with his friend and frequent collaborator Vincent Price playing Rosemary’s sinister doctor. However, Paramount executive Robert Evans saw the potential for a substantial horror movie and hired Roman Polanski, then an upcoming European filmmaker of tense movies like Repulsion, later to be a fugitive from America, to direct.

Castle remained on the movie as producer, but Polanski as writer and director unlocked the potential that Evans saw. Polanski did not upend horror tropes of the time; rather, he stayed away from sensationalism, downplayed the supernatural, and grounded the film in a recognizable reality. Even the dream scenes retain a realistic but strange look, which only increases their surreal and disturbing tone–especially since one of those dreams turns out to be very real. The most important thing the film does is put us in Rosemary’s place, sometimes literally though POV shots. Unlike countless other horror movies, we don’t want anything bad to happen to her. The horror of Rosemary’s Baby is that it all feels so plausible. 

Whether you know the conclusion or not, Rosemary’s Baby is an incredibly effective horror film. Fashions and automobiles aside, little about it feels dated. In his review, Roger Ebert notes that instead of using surprise to scare the audience the movie uses a feeling of inevitability to create horror. That feeling of inevitability casts a tone of doom and dread over the whole movie and it lingers in the mind of the viewer. This is one of the greats of the modern horror era, but not the last thing you want to watch before going to bed.

Rosemary's Baby airs on TCM on Saturday, October 25th at 8:30CT and is available to stream on Paramount+, Kanopy, and Hoopla.