A Remake Without Soul

"Wes Craven Presents" have never been three words I’ve looked forward to hearing. The product it generally implies is, well...

Sometimes starring Marc Blucas.

In other words, it’s rarely a good thing for even the catchiest of titles (you know, like, um...They) to be produced by horror’s most famous former college professor. With that in mind, I headed into 1998’s Carnival of Souls with a bar lower than the required height for the kiddie coaster.

Let’s see if it helped.

Quick Plot: Young Alex walks into her kitchen to the pleasant sight of Larry Miller raping her mother. Before you can say Final Destination 5, he snaps her neck and snaps us into the present, where Alex (Bobbie Philips) has grown into a pretty but world weary bar owner co-managing a seaside dive with her younger sister, played by an oddly stable Shawnee Smith. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with Saw's first lady, but there's something very off about seeing her playing normal.

Alex has bigger problems than a dull little sister, primarily the fact that mom-killer (and apparently, child molester) Larry Miller has been released from his lifetime prison sentence. So, apparently, have a bunch of demons and a lot of very menacing water, be it in a Final Destination 4-esque car wash-gone-wrong sequence or an aggressive bathtub. Are these simple daydreams haunting an emotionally scarred Alex, or is there evil afoot in comically oversized floppy red shoes?

Wes Craven Presents: Carnival of Souls is one of the titles that often shows up on Worst Remakes of All Time lists. While it’s no It’s Alive 2009, it’s easy to see why some viewers would be so offended by this film. The original is a verifiable cult classic, an eerie little tale panned in its time and rediscovered in the public domain as one of the era’s very best ghost stories. This version, directed by Adam Grossman and Ian Kressner, is far from the worst horror output of the ‘90s, but in comparison to the rich imagery of Herk Harvey’s film, it suffers quite fiercely.

The movie’s largest issue is the hardest to conquer: it’s boring. Yes, we get Shawnee Smith warbling through a tune. Indeed, we get a character actor generally known for comedy going all out as a pedophile carnival clown with a pageboy wig. Sure, these things are special in their own odd way. But that doesn’t a not dull film make.

Running at just 90 minutes, Carnival of Souls simply takes forever. The beats are repetitive, and sadly there are only so many ‘water! Bad! It’s a dream! Water! Bad!’ cycles a viewer can suffer through before calling it a day.

Or just a bad movie.

High Points

Well, this happens a lot:

Low Points

There’s a very specific moment where Carnival of Souls lost whatever mild interest it had generated. In one of her umpteenth fantasy/dream/water sequences, Alex is haunted by a red balloon that appears out of nowhere. She carefully walks toward it, clearly leading us to a jump of some moment. And she jumps. And THEN Larry Miller’s face appears on the balloon to do some taunting.

Notice a problem?

It’s easy enough to set up a jump scare. Lower the music. Have a character walk slowly. Focus on an object/door/box/noun of some sort that will reveal a minor menace. REVEAL the menace, and we and said character will presumably jump. Have character jump and THEN reveal menace, well, that’s something you only get when Wes Craven is presenting.

Lessons Learned

It is possible to possess stunning green eyes up until the age of five or six, only to see them turn a pleasant if plain brown once you reach your mid-20s

Demon thingies rarely wear clothing, but they do enjoy a hearty dinner and hydration

Look, It’s…

John Sears! Fraternity president/casual date rapist/homophobic bigot/sworn nemesis of Steve Sanders John Sears! Um, he was on Beverly Hills 90210, and I tend to should “John Sears!” whenever he pops up in another late ‘90s horror movie (of which there are quite a few). Also, he apparently directed the much maligned Atlas Shrugged: Part 1, so make of all of these things whatever you will.

Rent/Bury/Buy

Carnival of Souls isn’t the worst thing streaming on Netflix right now, but there’s very little reason to test that theory. I suppose Larry Miller clown fetishists or remake completists will give it a go, but be aware that this is a slog. Not a They slog, but dull time nonetheless.

Location Location Location

As some of you know and others don't care about, I spent the last year or so contributing to Pop Syndicate, a recently renovated website that lost all its past content (and writers). The following article appeared in 2009 and since you can't find it anywhere else in InterWorld, I'm rerunning it here. Apologies for the deja vu.


Some time back, I mentioned a movie that deserves no real further discussion: Moscow Zero, the Val Kilmer-headlined Russian thriller with little thrills and even less Kilmer. What bothered me was not so much that the film was dull (because anything that helps me sleep is welcome in my life) but that it wasted one of the greatest potential settings of any horror. The Moscow Metro system is deeper than hell and probably crawling with more agents of evil than Walmart in December. 

Naturally, this got me thinking of other places that naturally frighten visitors and the films that utilized set location for maximum thrills. Enter at your own risk:

Closed carnivals

Is there anything sadder than a man-made playground abandoned by man?  Squeaky rides and stale popcorn just aren’t the same without screaming kids that beg for seconds and then throw up the remains on wooden roller coaster...especially when the amusement park is littered with ghostly apparitions that really like to waltz. Hence, the classic 1962 Carnival of Souls, a beautifully surreal ghost story inspired by a lonely Salt Lake City locale and filmed to translate its spooky atmosphere onto the big screen. 

Warehouses

Part of my workday is stationed in an overcrowded appliance warehouse. Recently, I took a wrong turn and ended up navigating a labyrinth of boxes that would make the Goblin King grip his codpiece in GPS-less fear. Storage facilities are dangerous places, and not just because they tend to be generously stocked with sharp objects and sloppily stacked with heavy boxes. While Final Destination 3 packed on the precarious nail gun and other fatal industrial accouterments, my heart goes out to Child's Play 2 for its factory finale. Many people never understand why a two-foot doll instills such fear in so many filmgoers, but imagine a petite plastic redhead chasing you through an endless maze of ominous cardboard. It’s scary. And brown.

Hotels

The thing about lodging facilities is, despite all lazily standard attempts to make you think otherwise, they’re not your home. In fact, they’re no one’s home, yet countless scores of travelers have come before to sleep, make love, and flip through basic cable, all under the watch of bland pastel paintings in rooms that look identical to a million others across your respective country. There’s something existential and empty about the very idea of a pay-by-the-night place. Of course, The Shining is the definitive hotel horror for capturing the vast emptiness of a place that has been well lived (and died)-in before a cracking family moves in. I’d also point to the more recent Bug. The terror of this Friedkin thriller/drama/horror/undefined piece of disturbia doesn’t necessarily lie in its setting, but Ashley Judd’s cheap residential motel does help to create an atmosphere that never feels quite like home--thus making her lonely and longing waitress all the more vulnerable to forming a not-so-healthy connection with Michael Shannon’s quiet and slowly unraveling stranger. One thing’s for sure: by the end of Bug, you’ll never have to worry about confusing that room with the Day’s Inn.

Empty asylums

What’s scarier than a home for the criminally insane? How about one abandoned by the criminally insane? House on Haunted Hill makes nice use of its institutional mansion setting, but few films have created such a terrifying location as Brad Anderson’s Session 9. Filmed in the former Danvers State Hospital (aka the State Lunatic Hospital at Danvers, a far scarier title), Session 9 follows a frustrated asbestos removal crew and their ill-fated attempt to clean up am empty  (and most likely haunted) asylum. Like Carnival of Souls, Session 9 absorbs its environment, squeezing every drop of horror and letting it spread into the cast, music, lighting, and overall filmic effect. Plus, it achieves the seemingly impossible task of making David Caruso sympathetic. 

Tundra

I gave up watching Survivor the day Mark Burnett announced the show would never be filmed in the Arctic. To me, watching resourceful people combat frostbite and fight polar bears is far more exciting than seeing bad cases of sunburn aggravating oozing mosquito bites... which is probably why I hold winter horror in such high esteem. For true frozen conditions, John Carpenter’s The Thing pretty much corners the vast, cold market on ice, especially since Kurt Russell & Co. battle the boredom and isolation of Antarctica while  dealing with a shape-shifting gooey creature set on world domination. The more recent 30 Days of Night took great advantage of the Arctic Circle’s weirdly misunderstood sunrise patterns by, naturally, making it a haven for vampires. Sure, it fudged the actual earth science a tad, but 30 Days of Night also answered the question for why America’s largest state has such a small population.  

So my safely nestled readers, which films have you constantly noting the nearest exit? Also, what are some of your everyday hot spots just waiting for a bloody massacre to redden to floors?

This Is a Dark Ride

As we pack away the bermuda shorts and citronella candles to welcome crispy autumn, there’s one summer institution that I’ll be slightly sad to watch hibernate: amusement parks. Sure, lucky Californians and other citizens get yearlong access to large scale outdoor playgrounds, but for those of us that must abide by Mother Nature’s mood swings, a mobile carnival that sets up in a supermarket parking lot is a temporary joy. 

Thankfully, like so many venues of our dimension, there are plenty of horror films that help to keep alive (and sometimes, undead) the memories of rickety ferris wheels, questionable carnies, and possessed bumper cars (that’s what Herbie: Fully Loadedwas about, yes?).

If you’ve seen the trailer for Zombieland (and let’s face it: if you’ve been anywhere near a movie theater or Internet connection, you’ve seen the trailer for Zombieland)then like me, you’re itching for the promising marriage of roller coasters  and cannibalism. For a brainy appetizer, check out Umberto Lenzi’s Nightmare City. While it doesn’t answer the question of whether zombies throw their arms in the air when descending down a big drop or if they take a good picture via those seizure-inducing photo flashes, this 1980 classic does does provide a nifty chase up my favorite staple of vintage theme parks, a wooden roller coaster (and by chase, I mean actual chase; these roasted marshmallow headed ghouls can run). A truly horrifying ending demonstrates what happens should the teenage ride operator not check your safety harness (20+ years before Final Destination 3 gave us grisly details. 

Roller coasters not your thing? There’s still plenty of rides that can instill insane levels of fear in under 2 minutes. Child’s Play 3 boasts one  of those unrealistically extravagant funhouses only seen in cinema. Motorized cars take you on a herky jerky spin through a maze of foamy gargoyles. The ride itself is hardly terrifying, but its physical setup--which includes 20 foot drops over mini-van sized fans--makes for the perfect grounds for soul possessing and doll hunting. Pity the poor maintenance man who has to patrol that death trap.

Appropriately enough, a more believable funhouse can be found in a film I’ve discussed here before, Tobe Hooper’s The Funhouse. This 1981 slasher is set in a weekend carnival overflowing with stale popcorn and ex-cons (the type of three day event my lax fire department sponsored every August). Best of all, its titular attraction is perfectly decrepit and looks like it’s already hosted the deaths of countless ticket holders, much less the naughty teens whose demise will follow.

Maybe you prefer stationary entertainment at your evening fair. Many a carnival goer enjoys some of the live shows offered, although unless your ticket says Disney or Dollywood, the odds are fairly high that you won’t be clamoring for autographs at the end of the show. Still, give Tod Browning some credit for amassing a real-life collection of sideshow workers in 1932’s Freaks. From giggly pinheads to limbless crawlers, this group doesn’t seem to rival Cirque de Soleil, but damnit if they don’t throw kickass parties. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that their boss gives them enough time off to occasionally deform anyone who disrespects one of their own. An alternative black-and-white after hours entertainment can be found in the German expressionist classic, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, where a somnobulist brings the house down by predicting the date of your death. Fun for the whole family!

For less authentic performers, visit Victor Salva’s Clownhouse, where a trio of mental patients escape the big house to kill and impersonate three bitter circus clowns. Sure, the whole chasing-three-teenagers-and-trying-to-kill-them thing is wrong, but what’s even worse is the actual clowns’ performance ettiquette. Dancing around like--well, clowns--they please the local kids fine enough, but why when it comes to choosing a volunteer, why does Cheezo the leader grab our young protagonist against his will? If a boy stares into your painted eyes with a look of true terror, shaking his head at your extended gloved hand, is it really wise to grab his clammy right and throw him in the center ring? You’re just asking for a kick in the nuts. The strangulation and identity theft? Not completely undeserved. 

Speaking of clowns, one can’t discuss theme parks without a wistful visit to Killer Klowns From Outer Space. A neon tent rivals Las Vegas’ Circus Circus and a drop down ball pit lands you in the Playboy Bunny mansion of rainbow headed jesterettes. Best of all is the prime selection of artery clogging food. I’ve seen my share of candy apples and fried oreos, but that’s nothing compared to the klowns’ selection of 4’ long blood-stuffed cotton candy, monster-making popcorn, and acidic cream pies that will melt even the surliest of night security guards.

Finally, to bid proper adieu to summer days and snow cones, stop by the hauntingly barren landscape of rigged games, flea ridden stuffed animals, and loose screwed rides in 28 Weeks Later. Sure, Carnival of Souls gets plenty of ghostly points for its artistic eeriness, but there’s something sad and understated about a carousel so clean of children’s laughter and motion sickness vomit. 

Have I missed any? Throw in your vote for best use of a tilt-a-whirl, haunted house, deep fryer, or any other treat found only inside those non-permanent gates of traveling fun.

Horror Settings That Naturally Scare

Some places have such natural fear factor, all directors need to do is toss in a few actors, dim the lights, and mix a few unusual sound effects to create a simple and scary horror film. This week at Pop Syndicate, I take a look at a few locations made to inspire nightmares and the movies that made them real.


Take a read and add any films that I'm overlooking. I will confess, my mind is buzzing with the excitement as tonight is my field trip to Fangoria's Fest. I haven't been to a convention since 2004, when Ken Forree's gargantuan handshake almost crushed my stubby little fingers, Betsey Palmer smiled like a kindly grandmother at the fact that I attended with my mom, and I joined the club of fans who have caught major diva attitude from Tom Savini. Tonight, I'm keeping my expectations at a minimum...


mainly because I just rented a new apartment and it seriously needs some decorations. Toy booths and movie posters, here I come!