Tuppence An Innocent

On the list of dangerous professions to have when starring in a horror movie, I think ‘governess’ must rank fairly high. Add in the dread of children speaking with British accents inside a large and ghost-ridden mansion and you can bet your spoonful of sugar that the overtime pay just isn’t worth it.

Quick Plot: Deborah Kerr plays Miss Giddens, a prim blond with the luck of the easiest job interview since Being John Malcovich. Although she has never actually worked with children, she adores them and instantly lands the position of being governess to the niece and nephew of a wealthy--but not lonely, hm hm hm--bachelor who inherited the rugrats without the slightest desire to even look at them. Miss Giddens immediately packs up her velvet bustles and heads to a secluded country home to meet, teach, and get really freaked out by Flora and Miles.

All seems well and Mary Poppinsonian at first, as Flora (played by a ten year old And Soon the Darkness’ Pamela Franklin) is an absolute dear, while Miles proves to be incredibly charming...perhaps too charming. It isn’t long before Miss Giddens starts to pick up on strange cues between the children, an odd closeness that ends in ominous giggles. Coupled with that, she keeps hearing voices and occasionally catching glimpses of figures no one acknowledges until the housekeeper reveals the fate of the previous governess Miss Jessel and her abusive lover, the family’s valet Quint.

The Innocents is an eerily gothic ghost story that takes its time a la The Haunting. Co-written by Truman Capote (based on a play by William Archibald which was in turn based on The Turning of the Screw by Henry James), the film has long been a favorite of greatest horror films/ghost stories/underrated genre pictures by the likes of such luminaries as Martin Scorsese. You can see why. From the haunting music box theme to shadowy menaces, director Jack Clayton (aided immensely by director of photography Freddie Francis) builds some brilliant suspense with every tool at his disposal. Heck, just hearing the name “Miss Jessel” spoken with an English accent is enough to send a few chills through your spine.

In addition to creepy ghosts with romantic liaisons, The Innocents is rich with something far more unsettling and not innocent: Oedipal leanings. The precocious Miles takes quite a liking to his pretty teacher, leading to an uncomfortable moment that puts Miss Giddens at the wrong end of an inappropriate goodnight kiss. It’s incredibly creepy and though it doesn’t get fully explored, the hints hang in the air with stifling weight.

High Points

Many a filmmaker could take more than a few lessons from the atmosphere of The Innocents, something established incredibly well both indoors and out

Low Points

Though Miss Giddens’ chastity does come across, we never quite get to know this woman outside of her relationship to the children. While that in itself is interesting, it would have helped to know a tad more about our main character’s past, at least to give us a clearer sense of her reliability. Although perhaps that was the point...

Lessons Learned

When you spot a ghostly figure lurking outside, always make a note of his rating because you can guarantee the first question asked to identify the stranger will be “Is he handsome?”

Suggesting a game of hide-and-seek inside a gigantic mansion just before bedtime is probably not the best idea a governess could make

Nothing weird about bringing a dead bird to bed with you. Nothing. At. All.

Pompadours don't look any more normal on gothic children than they do on Korean dictators

Rent/Bury/Buy

The Innocents is a hard film to find, but if it comes your way, it’s certainly worth dimming the lights for a quietly chilled evening. Fans of atmospheric horror should consider it required viewing in the same vein as The Haunting. Of course, it’s a slow trail and one not necessarily rewarded with a colorful Insidious ghost party finale or The Others-like twist, but The Innocents is, plain and simple, a classic in its understated horror straight into its tragic conclusion. Watch it...just not if you have to agree to supervise creepy British kids in order to do so.

Blob It

Even the most loyal genre fan has her film holes. Who amongst us hasn't had to duck for cover when admitting those classics we haven't seen, only to finally seek them out and end up befuddled with the results. We sometimes find that the very genre-defining moments have since been defined with more skill, leaving us appreciating, if not necessarily enjoying the originals.

My love of 1988's underloved The Blob knows no bounds. I think it's a perfect horror film, filled with strong likable characters, an affectionate sense of place, and a kickass monster that remains terrifying 20+ years of technology later. 

(C'mon: TWO mullets in one movie? That can't be done with CGI)

And now allow me to confess: until a few days ago, I had never seen its source material. I had no real interest in doing so. My illicit relationship with Mystery Science Theater 3000 has educated me immensely on '50s monster movies and while I know there are true gems buried in the nuclear dust (Them! cannot be praised highly enough), I also rarely approach them expecting my life to be changed. 

But there’s only so long a gal can go before digging into the archives...

Quick Plot: In a friendly small town--one so good-natured that even the local ruffians agree they've been driving too fast lately--the world's second oldest teenager Steve (McQueen) puts the moves on Janey in his hotrod before almost hitting an old man that has just been partially blobbed before 'partially blobbed' became the universal phrase I hope it one day is. The sole town doctor sends Steve and Janey to Officer Dave while he gets fully blobbed but not too surprisingly, nobody with a badge wants to believe the troublemaking teens. 

As someone born in 1982, my knowledge of the '50s is defined by a combination of my parents' nostalgia and cinematic education. Though there are no poodle skirts or milkshakes to be found in The Blob, the film does encompass just about every other aspect I assumed was present in daily '50s life: dang kids, fast cars, movie house dates and blobs. My older readers can tell me if I'm wrong (which is highly unlikely because c'mon...blobs). 

There is no hesitation on my part to say that The Blob is a fun film. The actual monster is juicy and neat, something that surprisingly still works today. Seeing a town unite remains adorable, and Burt Bacharach’s hit theme song is so amazing even my CAT was entranced by the opening credits.

I can’t say I was ever actually frightened for the gee whiz youngins or concerned townsfolk, but I smiled throughout like someone who had just slurped down a delicious bowl of strawberry jell-o.

High Points

Though I can’t really say The Blob holds up as a frightening film, the effects remain effective (badom bom!) and an early car mechanic death is filled with gooey suspense

Low Points

I don't mean to kick the former 6 year old Kieth (that's how imdb spells it) Almoney in his now sensible 59 year old shoes, but I think his first big scene with big sis Janey might contain some of the worst acting ever attempting by a child performer

Lessons Learned

Just because some kid smacks into your wife on the turnpike doesn't make it a crime to be 17 years old. (On a side note, that’s a dark little character backstory that’s probably thankfully not explored eh?)

Much to the chagrin of eager cleaning ladies, one cannot just dust around fingerprints at a crime scene

Even in all-American towns, you can count on school principals to be stuffy and slightly British

The best way to deal with a global threat is to airdrop it in Antarctica. It's still cold there, right?

Stray Observations

As someone who has watched Killer Klowns From Outer Space more times than Costas Mandylor has done bicep curls, I was shocked to realize just how much that 1986 ball of cotton candy was inspired by The Blob. A few similarities:

-Officer Dave and his dubious fellow cops

-opening the film on a kissing couple’s quest to find the landing of a shooting star

-an ill-fated old farmer and his dog

-and dialogue as close as “He says Doc Hallen is dead. I’ve got to check it out!” in comparison to “They say some people are dead. Let’s hear them out!”

Rent/Bury/Buy

Horror fans owe it to themselves to dive into the gelatinous goop that is The Blob. It’s a piece of film history that represents a very specific era in cinema and while it probably won’t scare you with the same power as Chuck Russell’s 1988 remake, it’s easily entertaining in an aw shucks kind of way. The Criterion release features oodles of extras well worth the dip. Just don’t blame me when you find your head bopping along to theme song...for the rest of your life.

Reader Recommendation: The Wolf Man

"Fuck Remakes. The original Wolfman is a classic for a reason! It really is THAT good. Lon Chaney Jr. is so charming and sympathetic. The atmosphere is flawless. A true representation of Classic Monsters and Classic Horror."--Eric

Let’s do this.

Quick Plot: Prodigal son Larry (Lon Chaney, Jr.) returns home after the death of his brother. With nothing else on his agenda, he takes a liking to his pretty next door neighbor Gwen, who looks especially good in the not-at-all-creepy view of Larry’s suggestively aimed telescope.

But putting inappropriate stalkeriness aside, Larry is a charming enough man who takes Gwen out on a romantic walk through the woods. Along the way, the pair encounter a spooked tribe of Gypsy fortune tellers with ominous warnings.

Silly Gypsies. Like they ever matter.

Oh. Right.

Before you can say Spider Baby, Larry is wrestling with a puppet werewolf and doging Gypsy murder accusations. The next day, he’s baffled to find no scars to prove his fateful evening, though he does discover his feet furrying up during the next full moon.

I did not grow up with The Wolf Man, which is something of a shame. What terrified my mother on basic cable showings never really had the chance to trouble my mind, especially considering my general aversion to werwolf cinema is only mildly stronger than my disconnect with giallo.

And yet, I heartily enjoyed The Wolf Man in all its black and white soundstage glory. Universal Horror has undeniable charm that simply works, seventy years old or not. 

High Points

Sure, it’s occasionally strained and overdramatic, but the instrumental score is also glorious and grand

There’s something quite refreshing about a horror movie not relying on a token bad guy. While the Wolfman is of course the villain of the tale, he’s also a figure of sympathy. Similarly, despite place for it, the film doesn’t cast any of the hunters in annoyingly Gaston-like roles as a plot convenience

Low Points

For a fairly short film, there seems to be an awful lot of downtime in The Wolf Man that makes it feel so much longer than its 70 minute running time

Lessons Learned

The best way to beat a wolf puppet is by using a wolf cane

Not all peeping toms are necessarily bad people, but that doesn’t really make them any less creepy 

Listen to the Gypsies. Always, with no exceptions whatsoever, listen to the Gypsies

Rent/Bury/Buy

Fans of classic Universal horrors will be happy to own the deluxe DVD, which includes special features AND three bonus films. Casual fans who prefer their lycanthropes dripping in crimson blood may be slightly bored, but everyone owes it to themselves to at least pay tribute to one of the classics with a watch, preferably when the moon is full.

Something Is Missing...

The first (of a whopping two) film criticism classes I ever took was a one-day-a-week English elective on French cinema. Though I didn’t quite relish the act of watching 3-hour romantic epics in the comfort of my university’s drab library, I did absorb something of an appreciation for moody Europeans and their innovation behind the camera. 7 years later, it’s somehow more rewarding to discover classic films without the confines of writing mini-essays.

Wait a minute--

Quick Plot: Attractive blue-eyed young ladies are disappearing in 1950s Paris, their bodies later washing up in the Seine sans facial skin. While the police remain woefully ignorant, we meet Professor Genessier, a surgeon on the cutting edge (ba-dom bom bom!) of Face/Off style transplants.

A cold man, Professor Genessier has some personal investment in honing his craft: his once-beautiful daughter Christianne had her face all but torn off in a tragic car accident. While the world--including her fiancee--mourn the faked death of Christianne, her father and his loyal secretary collect young women in attempt after attempt to find and maintain Christianne’s new look.

Filmed in the worldwide censorship-happy ‘50s, Eyes Without a Face is an eerie, disturbing, and ultimately quite sad little tale that is as effective as it is influential. A creepy score sets the mood and documentarian director George Franju plays with his camera to maximize effect. You’ll probably be able to predict the direction of most of the plot, but the story remains engrossing and beautiful and unsettling way.

High Points

The circus-like score is unsettling and neat, but the choice to silence it during the famous transplant scene is even more powerful

The entire physical design of Christianne is quite striking. With her slender frame, oversized sleeves, and blank mask, actress Edith Scob comes off like a porcelain doll sitting atop an Expressionist toy chest

Low Points

Though I was intrigued by the stoic guilt of Professor Genessier and sympathized with Christianne’s plight, the lack of central character (and third act emergence of psuedo-protagonists) keeps the film a tad cold to the viewer

Lessons Learned

Never, under any circumstances, get arrested for petty crime in Paris when a murderer is on the loose hunting young women who fit your exact profile. You never know when you’ll be put into a dangerous, irresponsibly run undercover operation that puts your life in danger

Always note the jewelry style of overly generous strangers

Just because you feed your cruelly caged dogs does not mean they don’t secretly want to eat you

Rent/Bury/Buy

One can easily watch Eyes Without a Face to learn a few early camera tricks and catch some inspiration for Michael Myers’ mask, but this haunting thriller also holds up as an engrossing view. Currently on Netflix’s Instant Watch, it’s a hearty recommendation for both classy cred and good old fashioned entertainment reasons. Watch it for culture and sadness.

Wicker Me Wonderful

When Final Girl Stacie Ponder announced The Wicker Man as December 14th's film club pick (a monthly roundup of movie blogs reviewing the same movie; come here  tomorrow and check it out) I was more than apprehensive to type a single word. Aside from a few carnivorous klowns, stab-happy dolls, and shopaholic zombies, Robin Hardy’s 1973 musical/thriller/drama/horror/mystery comes close to topping my list of all-time favorites. Witness this very special corner of my apartment:

Sure, I’ve been known to bookmark the infamous 2 minute best-of youtube clip of LeBute’s remake (an incredibly campy example of what happens when a misogynist filmmaker gets his hands on good actors,  bad special effects, and bear suits), but my heart forever belongs to what is quite rightfully cited as “The Citizen Kane of Horror Cinema.”

As I assume most of you have already viewed this film, I’ll spare the synopsis to get to the meat and apples-of-a-good-harvest-season: why I adore The Wicker Man. Spoilers will follow, so if by some promiscuity loving pagan god forbidden chance you haven’t seen it, I implore you to close this link, velcro up your shoes, put on your best bunny head mask and get thee to a video store to pick up the Special Edition 2-disc set.

Back? Now ask the landlord's lovely daughter to pour you a pint and settle in for why The Wicker Man is perhaps the most awesome film of all time:

The Look

Not only is the Scottish location a truly gorgeous sight to behold, but Hardy and cinematographer Harry Waxman capture its strange beauty in such an intriguing way. The glare of the sun blocking our view in the film’s final act stays in many a watcher’s head long after it’s done, while other “eye” choices (such as having the early landing of Sgt. Howie’s plane shown through his bobbing-on-water point of view) all work to make the film’s actual shooting just as memorable as its famous performances, songs, and script.

The Language

The fact that it incorporates words like strumpet, mead, assiduous, wench, bawdy, and a barrel more of playful yet underused vocabulary

Touches of the Eerie

Strange little moments of horror add up throughout the film, slowly hinting at what might lay below the surface of this strangely organic world. Several brief scenes never fail to tickle my skin, including the giggling schoolgirl’s gleeful pleasure in tethering a beetle to her desk and the children’s all-too-happy games playing dead during Howie’s frantic search for Rowan. Plus, clown dolls!

Christopher Lee

If one were to compile a list of the greatest speaking voices in cinematic history, Christopher Lee’s rich bass would surely find its way close to the top. The Wicker Man gloriously milks those well-traveled vocal chords for all their worth, letting Lord Summerisle wax nostalgic in unusual sermons and sing a few ditties with an energy rarely seen by such a cinematic titan.

The Overall Mood
Much like Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock, The Wicker Man casts an inescapable spell over its audience without relying on obvious visual cues. It’s a combination of the living landscape, offbeat songs, and peculiar dialect amongst Summerisle residents that leaves you enraptured, if always uncomfortable inside a simultaneously familiar and strange land.

Incredible Buildup
Rarely does a film with a body count of one merit so much horror, but credit The Wicker Man’s carefully planned crescendo as Howie plays detective on an island where the typical rules of investigation simply don’t apply. One of the tensest moments comes during the big parade, as one by one, nervously laughing pagans in costume step into a sword drawn circle to learn their fate. The fake-out beheading summons one of the all-time biggest gasps I’ve ever released while watching a film.

Music
Paul Giovanni’s folky songs are one of a kind, from the brilliantly catchy Maypole dance to the sensual siren song a nude Britt Eckland coos from behind a heavy wall. Wedding DJs probably don’t get a lot of requests for "The Landlord’s Daughter" and we’ll probably never hear an American Idol contestant cover "Corn Riggs", but it’s impossible to deny the importance of these unique compositions in such an atmospheric film.

Edward Woodward
The first time I watched The Wicker Man, I was glaring my way through its running time at Sgt. Howie’s close-minded aggressiveness amid a free-spirited land of good-natured barflies who just wanted to rock. With each viewing, I come to admire the late Woodward’s work more and more. It’s not an easy task to carry a film as a somewhat unlikable character, but Howie always seems a real, fervent man doing his job and trusting in his faith. It’s a testament to Woodward’s performance that, despite his character’s attitude throughout the film, we as the audience are completely invested in his fate.

Finale

I dare you not to get goosebumps as Woodward screams out that hymn, raising his voice  to mount the crackling of flames and joyous choral song of the townspeople’s joyous swaying below. The contrast creates what may be one of the most haunting scenes in filmic history.

Quibbles

One restored scene to the extended cut doesn’t quite sit well with me: While the theatrical version opens with Howie arriving at Summerisle, the restored film starts on the mainland, with Sgt. Howie singing at church and his fellow policemen joking about his virginity. Does anybody else find this a little too obvious, too soon? 

The music played during Howie and Rowan’s near escape feels, much like Peter’s last stand in Dawn of the Dead, jarringly out of place, taking us into ‘70s TV cop chases and out of a May Day celebration

Lessons Learned

If an attractive young woman is nakedly banging on your walls, it might not be a bad idea to give in to one night of carnal pleasure

It’s much too dangerous to jump through fire with your clothes on

Snails are horny, selfish, and highly admired by pagan chiefs

Shocks are so much better absorbed with the knees bent

Rent/Bury/Buy

Own it. Watch it. Love it. Sacrifice a virgin to it. The Special Edition features a rewarding batch of extras, including an energetic 35 minute retrospective where we learn that Ingrid Pitt is quite possibly one of the most happening dames in the business. The commentary track is not to be missed, especially to hear Christopher Lee’s praise of just how much he believed in the film. It’s a classic like no other.

And don't forget to head over to Film club captain Final Girl's site  on Monday afternoon and browse a few more reviews from fellow movie geeks. You don't need even need a secret code!