Nerd Alert!

 

It's been far too long since I nerded out with some genre book recommendations. So put on those spectacles and let's go to the library!

Fantasticland by Mike Bockoven

World War Z (the book, not bland excuse for a movie) laid out a pretty great template for how to tackle an high concept story. Oral histories aren't new, but Max Brooks took the format to such success with his epic zombie tale that it's not surprising to see the next generation of horror novelists try the same thing. Mike Bockoven doesn't really have the same sharpness in his actual writing, but by golly can he tell a fun story. In Fantasticland, we follow the bizarre fallout of an unprecedented hurricane locking a Florida theme part away from the rest of the world. The mostly twentysomething part-time employees are left to quickly form their own tribes, enjoying all of the concession stand offerings while turning gift shop souvenirs into grand scale weaponry. It's a wild ride that doesn't fully work if you think too hard about it, but you'll have a hard time putting it down. 

Pair It With:

H.G. Bells' Sleep Over is similarly a better idea than novel, but it's SUCH a good idea. It follows the same oral history style as Fantasticland, only with more widespread apocalyptic overtones. One day, nobody can sleep. And the next day, they still can't. What happens to the world when every one of its inhabitants is functioning in a fugue state? A whole lot of pretty horrible stuff. Enjoy!

Natural Beauty by Ling Ling Huang

 

There's nothing new is framing the beauty industry as body horror, but Ling Ling Huang's exploration brings some new ideas to the table. A former piano prodigy stumbles into a day job at an innovative new spa. Before she can read the side effects, she's experiencing bizarre transformations that turn her Chinese-American identity into something very, very different. Huang's writing isn't for everyone, but it's a very specific window that's worth a peek through. 

Pair It With:

I haven't had the chance to write about just how much I loved The Substance, and now that it's a bona fide 4-time Oscar nominee, there's a part of me that feels like you don't need me telling you what you probably already know: it's a joyfully gross rave of just how weird body dysmorphia makes us. 

Mister Magic by Kiersten White

The setup of Mister Magic is incredibly cool: the youth cast of a Romper Room-esque kids show reunites as adults, only nobody, including the internet, quite remembers why the show ended in the first place. There is somehow no video evidence of it ever even airing, though the Mandela Effect is in full swing with chat room typers who can fill in the blanks. Author Kiersten White was raised Mormon and seems to use Mister Magic as a thoughtful way to explore the stifling, dangerous nature that religion wields over its children. The novel doesn't quite go as dark as you might expect early on so horror readers should keep their expectations in check. Still, it's a unique idea that should satisfy some readers.

Pair It With:

I had last mentioned Mister Magic in a review for Mr. Crocket, which certainly shares some story threads in following an '80s children's television show personality with nefarious motives towards his audience. It's an easy double bill, but I'll also throw out the title of 2024's best film, and one that also happens to use fuzzy media nostalgia as a lens to find a deeper understanding of identity: I Saw the TV Glow.

Siren Queen by Nghi Vo

If you liked Babylon but thought it needed more dark magic, allow me to introduce you to the glorious Siren Queen. Set in the golden pre-Hays Code Hollywood, Nghi Vo's novel follows an ambitious Chinese American actress as she navigates monstrous studio heads and witchy wilting stars who have all sold aspects of their soul to live the dream. Luli is willing to do the same but only on the condition that she never be cast as a maid. So where does that leave a non-caucasian, queer starlet? Well, as the monster of course! Vo goes all in with turning the studio backlots into a weekly witches' sabbaths, with characters shapeshifting into far more interesting creatures than any plastic surgery could create. 

Pair It With:

I'm not always the biggest fan of Hollywood stories, as the behind-the-scenes narratives usually just feel too insidery or depressing. Both descriptions fit a film I love in spite of this: Kevin Kolsh and Dennis Widmeyer's Starry Eyes, which stars a game Alex Essoe as a struggling actress who finds herself in situations not unlike Luli. If you enjoyed the brutal Starry Eyes, Siren Queen might read for you as a similar story told decades earlier.

A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers 

Deliciously twisted is the best way I'd describe this novel, which follows a painfully chic food critic who discovers that nothing tastes as good as the perfectly prepared flesh of an ex. It's impossible not to be swept up in the glamorous, worldly life of our occasional cannibalistic narrator Dorothy Daniels. Summers relishes Dorothy's unapologetic hedonism, and I found it impossible not to root for her to savor every bite.

Pair It With:

I'm certainly not saying Ridley Scott's Hannibal is a good movie, but it is, in the words of modern vernacular, a VIBE, and therefore, a fitting pairing to A Certain Hunger in celebrating the carnal pleasure of perfectly prepared meat. 

Making Contact With Joey

 

In my 43 years on this planet, there are a few images that have stuck in my brain in the worst of ways. 

One of them was Joey.

I was probably all of 7 when I caught a glance of this cover art on the shelf at my local sanctuary that was Long Island's largest independent video store. It was my mission to rent everything possible in the horror section, but for probably a good year or two, I circled that box like Pee-Wee side-eying the snake tank.

See, like any reasonable human being, I despise ventriloquist dummies.

I don't have strong memories of actually WATCHING Joey, but the image of that dummy on a dusty VHS cover has never left my brain. 16 years into February's Shortening, I'm simply running out of killer doll movies and hence, once again, I find myself circling that snake tank, knowing the time has come.

Quick Plot: Young Joey is mourning the death of his beloved father. As he longingly speaks to him through a photograph, Joey's pure '80s toy-filled room begins to come alive. Battery-operated cars start driving, balls are rolling, and records spinning. There is no safety to be found under the covers, even if they are part of a Return of the Jedi sheet set.

When Joey's toy phone begins ringing from the closet, things stop being so scary. It's Dad! 

You might not want to tell that to your bullies.

Back at school, other students mock Joey for, you know, talking to his dead dad on the phone. But Joey is undeterred. His toys lead him down a cobweb covered basement inhabited by something I speak of in hushed tones.

(whispers) Fletcher.

LOOK AT THIS THING.

It grunts, and a pile of soft stuffed animals do his bidding. They SMOTHER Joey's favorite, a blinky robot named Scooter who might otherwise protect the poor kid. All he has to do is turn his head, blink those marble eyes, and drop his crank jaw to let out a deep "BLAHHHHHHHHH" noise and lightning strikes. 

I hate dummies.

It's no better when the thing starts talking. He tells Joey his life's story, sitting on the knee of a master of the dark arts named Jonathon Fletcher who found a way to bridge realities. According to the dummy, it's Fletcher who's on the other side of that toy phone, not Joey's dear dead dad. The late magician has been trying to cross back over using both the dummy and Joey's innocence. When the dummy nearly kills Joey's mom, the kid does the only reasonable thing in this situation: tosses it in a hole and buries him. 

Things don't end there, especially since Joey also has to deal with some toy-killing bullies. Thankfully, we're working in a post-Carrie world where a dead dad and evil ventriloquist dummy ALSO include telekinetic powers for our titular hero. 

Before you know it, Making Contact goes full-out Poltergeist by way of E.T., with actual Darth Vader masks and lightsabers thrown in for good effect. How this movie would have ever managed to escape lawsuits is quite the mystery. I haven't even mentioned the Donald Duck that flies through Joey's hallway. 

Directed by Roland Emmerich--yes, that Roland Emmerich--Making Contact is joyfully pandering to an audience looking for blockbuster '80s breadcrumbs. It's also a pretty big, albeit short mess. From a narrative point of view, nothing really adds up. It's never really clear what Fletcher or his dummy is after, or which is actually the villain. You can't think too hard about a movie that was clearly assembled mathematically.

High Points

Yes, the bullies are straight out of Spielberg, but it's kind of nice to have them acknowledge the fact that the boy they've tormented proved himself to be far braver than they ever would be when facing a murderous 1920s era magical dummy

Low Points

You know, the whole "this movie is patched together from references to far better material" thing

Lessons Learned

German children dubbed by Americans singing My Country Tis of Thee will still be out of tune

Fear comes in many forms, including 3' tall hamburgers

Every '80s lonely boy needs a blond sidekick

Rent/Bury/Buy

Making Contact is not what anyone would call a good movie. It was so clearly crafted to pull whatever bits of blockbusters it could and somehow hit a 90 minute mark without getting sued. That being said, anyone with a closeness to these kinds of movies will probably be highly amused by just how hard it was able to go. And if, like me, you find ventriloquist dummies to be pure nightmare fuel, you won't sleep easy. Find it on Tubi before Disney does. 

Shoe Goes There

 

As we continue honoring horror films that feature vertically challenged villains in the month of February (as one is wont to do), I find myself hitting against my first real existential question: does an object that one wears to become TALLER still fit the category? 

Quick Plot: Two teen girls are waiting in an empty subway tunnel when they discover a pair of lonely, flattering hot pink pumps. Like traveling pants, the shoes seem to be the perfect size for both young ladies, causing an immediate brawl over who is the rightful owner. As the victor stalks off, an invisible force follows at her ankles and, well, takes off a few inches.

Elsewhere in Seoul, an unhappy mother/wife named Sun-jae walks out on her distant husband after she discovers his affair. Sun-jae moves her young daughter Tae-su into a questionable apartment (amenities include a wacky old lady who lives in the basement) to start her new life. While riding home on the metro, Sun-jae stumbles upon a familiar pair of heels.

Sun-jae seems to be on the right track rebuilding her life. Her divorce is almost finalized, and she's close to opening her own eye clinic. She also begins a relationship with her interior designer, In-Cheol, much to the chagrin of Tae-soo.

But then there is the matter of those shoes. 

They seem to send out a siren song to any woman, be they 8-year-old Tae-su or Sun-Jae's best friend. The latter wears them a little too long down the street and ends up in an Argento-esque murder scene while Tae-su is hospitalized after a shoe-inspired bleeding frenzy. 

Internet searches, microfiche scrolling, and survivor interviews take us down a Ringu-like trail of discovery. Like many Korean horror films, The Red Shoes feels ten minutes too long, with a bit of a dueling narrative between the shoe's supernatural, ballet-filled history and the more immediate concerns of Sun-jae's very human flaws. Normally I'd never fault a movie for a last act detour into a choreographed dance, but The Red Shoes, dare I say it, didn't really need it. 

Sun-jae is a richly drawn mess of a woman, which I mean as an extreme compliment. Wonderfully played by Kim Hye-su, she hasn't made the best life choices, and that's before she brings home a pair of haunted high heels. Her relationship with her daughter is awkward. She doesn't stand up to her awful husband. She seems like a pretty crappy friend. 

It's actually kind of great! Somehow, mixing her life with a more lyrically melodramatic flashback to frenemy ballerinas in the 1940s takes AWAY from the more intriguing idea that a put-upon wife and mother might just need one sexy pair of heels to unleash something cruel and vain inside. There's plenty to explore, and had The Red Shoes been a little more confident in its core story, it would have been great. 

High Points

My Hoopla-rented copy of The Red Shoes wasn't of the highest image quality, but it was still clear to see how visually interesting a film it is. Director Yong-gyun Kim brings a unique color palette and off-kilter set design to keep the entire film in a slightly otherworldly realm

Low Points

I was never bored during The Red Shoes, but I also never really felt confident that I understood what was going on and why it was happening 

Lessons Learned

Self-pride will always do you wrong

There's an age limit to wearing red

To properly identify a body, one must check the face and feet

Rent/Bury/Buy

The Red Shoes is a messy story, but there's a lot here that I found quite striking. It has a great lead performance, visual intrigue, and some nasty twists fitting of the early aught era but with a slight sense of whimsy from the very nature of this being somewhat of a fairy tale. It's streaming on Hoopla, though the print quality is less than ideal. Keep an eye out for a cleaner version. 

It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Sting

Two movies into February's Attack of the Vertically Challenged and we've got an interesting development: our short villains are creations of far taller beings. It's not the little children or wasps that are evil: it's the people directing them.

Quick Plot: Welcome to the Anan Archipelago, a region sparsely populated with humans but loaded with unusual insects. Local Joji collects some to sell to some scientists (while also having beach sex with his white mistress Annabelle as his new wife Yukari defends him to her handsy boss). Above them, an American aircraft spins out of control as four parachutes descend. 

That's only the start of their problems. Charly, an American bomber pilot, had a bug-induced panic attack onboard and is the cause of the crash. Once on firm ground, Charley becomes even more manic as he spots more swarms and his two compatriots hide out in a cave. The pair is found dead the next morning, while Charly is unconscious and in bad shape. 

As American military authorities come to investigate, Joji finds himself under suspicion. His biologist pal Dr. Nagumo shows up to help, bringing terrifying news of just how deadly the insects of Anan truly are. These aren't your annoying picnic mosquitoes but harbingers of the end of the world. They can lay eggs in humans to turn them mad. It's a bad way to go, and exactly why Annabelle, a survivor of a concentration camp who witnessed humanity at its worst, wants to unleash them.

I sadly don't have enough experiece with Japanese genre cinema of the 1960s to really know how Genocide fits in there. Directed by Kazui Nihonmatsu, the film plays rather shockingly bleak to a 2025 viewer, which is perfectly understandable. The scars of Hiroshima were just over 20 years old and far from healing. 

Nihonmatsu, working with a script by Susumu Takaku, isn't afraid to present a flawed set of characters to bring about a possible apocalypse. Joji makes a lot of mistakes before he truly understands what he's put at risk, while Annabelle's fury is horrific but also kind of justified. There's something modern and smart about how the characters of Genocide are living in a hell that they and their kind have built.

High Points

That is one appropriately big and dark (or maybe hopeful?) ending

Low Points

It's not that the insect world is working off a rulebook, but it does feel a bit silly for swarms to only attack a character (and leave another bite-free) when the script seems to need them to

Lessons Learned

Insects never lie

The best way to jog a psychotic patient's memory is to expose him to closeups of the thing he fears most

Tattoos only appear in the moonlight, and never on a sunny afternoon when you're wearing a bikini on the beach

Rent/Bury/Buy

Despite what you might guess from its cheery title, Genocide is far from a fun watch. There's a deep weight to this killer wasp movie. If you're up for it, find it on the Criterion Channel. 

Shortening Some Holes

 

Welcome to the 15th Annual Shortening!

Yes, I've probably reused that joke. IT'S BEEN 15 YEARS.

What's a Shortening, you might ask due to its capitalization? February being the year's shortest month, me being a fairly short blogger, I have traditionally used this time to tackle movies exclusively featuring vertically challenged villains. Dolls, bugs, sloths, elves, and of course, one of my favorites and today's start, darn kids.

Quick Plot: An elite group of preteen boys attends a fancy version of summer camp. There they experience the usual activities: mud wrestling, capture the flag, bonfires. opera, and, well, as you might guess by the fact that this is streaming on Shudder, some horrors.

The Hole In the Fence is described in its synopsis as a take on Lord of the Flies, which is both enticing and more than a bit misleading. Anyone diving into this movie expecting a Who Can Kill a Child-esque ride will probably walk away disappointed, but in its own very different way, this movie is even more disturbing.

Directed by Joaquin del Paso, The Hole In the Fence is not a story about the evil lurking inside the young. It's actually quite the reverse: children might, by both nature and nurture, lean towards certain paths, but their real fate is mostly in the hands of the adults who guide them. The boys of Centro Escolar Los Pinos are, for the most part, wealthy, light-skinned white collar citizens-in-training. Like their chaperones, some may go on to become teachers or politicians or priests. All of these vocations are part of a system. But said system can't exist in its tiered structure without the bottom: the weak, the poor, the disabled, the victims.

The boys are told that their camp is a safe space located just outside a dangerous village filled with criminals that will rape and kill anyone better off. Though they do some charity giveaways there, it's made explicitly clear that they are not to venture outside their gate (though none of the boys seem overly interested in doing so). Things change when they discover the titular opening, a random exposure that suggests outside forces can find their way inside.

There are already other small tears in the fabric. A scholarship student stands out as the lone indigenous representative. Not surprisingly, he's the easy target of racist bullying. His only friend is a boy suspected of being gay, and when the more powerful kids turn on them, choices of loyalty are made. Another child with heavy injuries faces a different threat: a counselor with dark and abusive motives. 

The adults plant just enough seeds for their protoges to follow the same path that had, a generation before, been laid out for them. It's a cycle of violence, hatred, and hierarchy. 

So yes: not the BEST time.

The Hole In the Fence isn't a fun movie. Its horrors are societal and sad, and its 'thrills' are more a closing shot that feels like a punch to the gut. It will hurt. 

High Points

Directing two dozen children, many of whom are apparently not experienced actors, can't be an easy feat, but the results end up quite well. The boys are natural and haunting

Low Points

Considering the nature of one of The Hole In the Fence's only physical victims, it might have helped a little to have given the village and its inhabitants just a tiny bit more context

Lessons Learned

Page 666 of the New and Old Testament is more or less the same

As is true in any culture, continue to never trust men of the cloth

Chekhov's law of skinny dipping remains unbroken: your clothes will be stolen. Accept it

Rent/Bury/Buy

It's hard to say I enjoyed The Hole In the Fence, but easy to say I recommend it. Have at it on Shudder if you're in the mood for something dark and unsettling.