Editorials
‘Creep’ and the Horror of the Subtle Psychopath
One of the most disturbing villains in recent memory is not a masked lunatic or a nefarious demon, but rather a seemingly innocuous Craigslist user. His name is Josef, and he can be found in Patrick Brice’s deeply unsettling found-footage movie Creep. Played by Mark Duplass, the character does not do anything overtly malicious for the majority of the picture’s runtime, but his unusual behavior and passive-aggressive comments become as terrifying as the actions of a chainsaw-wielding maniac. Through Josef, the film examines the horror of the subtle psychopath.
In Creep, Patrick Brice plays Aaron, a freelance videographer who responds to a Craigslist ad for a one-day assignment in a remote mountain town. That sounds like the setup for something sinister, and Aaron is skeptical from the get-go, especially when he shows up at the prearranged time to an empty house. Soon enough, though, Josef arrives, and he’s not some sort of obviously evil man running towards Aaron with an ax. Rather, he comes across as a normal dude getting back from a run, although there’s something off that we can’t quite identify. One of the first comments Josef makes to Aaron is, “You have a really nice, kind face.” Huh. That’s kind of bizarre to say to a stranger, right? Is Josef super friendly but a bit awkward, or should Aaron be worried? We expected his intentions to be pronounced straightaway, but so far that is not the case.
Our initial apprehension fades away after a few minutes with Josef, who explains that he’s a cancer survivor who was recently diagnosed with a brain tumor and has two months to live. His wife is pregnant, so he has hired this videographer to record a tape for his unborn son. In case he is not able to successfully combat the tumor, Josef wants his son to know what his father was like; he and Aaron will spend the day together capturing as much footage as possible. This situation is compared to the 1993 film My Life, in which Michael Keaton plays a terminally ill man making home movies to be given to his child. When Aaron decides he’s down for the job, Josef smiles and says, “I thought you were going to run away.” We feel bad for ever doubting Josef’s motives, and we want to give him a hug and tell him it’s all going to be okay.
Moments later, everything gets weird again. Josef says he’s going to get into the tub, and he invites Aaron to come in with him. Hang on…what? He wants a total stranger to film him taking a bath? Maybe he’s just an incredibly open person who doesn’t understand why that would make Aaron uncomfortable. Could that be it? Our opinion swings right back around as Josef says that he used to take baths with his dad as a child, and we breathe a sigh of relief. The initial invite into the bathroom was awkward, but when put into the context of a dying father who realizes he may never give his baby boy his first bath, it makes more sense.

This first act of Creep is a constant tug-of-war of emotions, as Patrick Brice revels in ambiguity and ensures we never know what to make of Josef. Is he literally about to break out an ax and chop Aaron’s head off? Or is he a lonely guy looking to make friends before death but who sometimes unintentionally drives them away? Both scenarios are equally plausible, so even during seemingly unimportant dialogue sequences, we never feel fully secure. Many found-footage movies waste the audience’s time with excruciating filler, but every millisecond of Creep speaks volumes.
As we soon learn, one facet of Josef’s peculiar personality is what he describes as his strange sense of humor. He’s always scaring Aaron just to amuse himself, such as when he sinks into the tub pretending to contemplate suicide before jumping up and screaming. Who does that? Later, he runs away from Aaron in the woods, only to sneak up behind him for a scare. This could be interpreted as the actions of a psychopath who is testing exactly how far he can push his victim before they snap and who is working himself up to finally strike. But it could also be that Josef merely has poor people skills and does not register that Aaron isn’t enjoying the humor. Because Josef appears to be so unassuming, Aaron can’t justify voicing major objections, and the cycle continues.
Josef also really overshares throughout the film, creating uncomfortable situation on top of uncomfortable situation. It starts with the bath scene, but there’s also the fact that he’s frequently making physical contact with Aaron when they don’t know each other. He often goes in for hugs, and during one dialogue scene, he begins rubbing Aaron’s arm, a gesture that’s really only appropriate in a close relationship. At lunch, when Josef apologizes for secretly taking pictures of Aaron, he says he wouldn’t have done it if he knew Aaron then the way he knows him now. He’s speaking as if they are suddenly friends of several decades rather than two people who met literally one hour ago. The hesitation in Aaron’s voice is easily perceptible, but he holds back and does not want to hurt Josef’s feelings.

For the majority of Creep, every unacceptable action Josef takes has an alternate explanation that makes us reluctant to judge. He scares Aaron in the bathroom, but then that’s because he was trying to lighten the mood. He takes pictures of Aaron without his knowledge, but then he profusely apologizes and says he did so because he was nervous about meeting a stranger. There is always just enough to rope Aaron back in and prevent him from running away.
It finally becomes clear that Aaron is in danger when he speaks with Angela over the phone, and the film reveals Josef’s entire story has been a lie. Angela, who is actually Josef’s sister and not his wife as previously stated, explains that her brother “has a lot of problems.” Even now, then, Aaron isn’t confident in what he’s dealing with. After Aaron escapes, Josef begins sending him packages in the mail, one of which contains a heart locket with pictures of the two of them. Josef is now quite definitively an unstable man who has gone full stalker, but does he have murderous intentions? To what extent is Aaron at risk?
The situation is horrifying regardless, and that is precisely because of the uncertainty. Villains are scarier the less we know about them, which is why it’s best to keep their backstory vague. Yet even with an enigmatic character like Michael Myers in the original Halloween, it’s still obvious that he’s the antagonist. We can point to the killer as being objectively evil and more like a monster than a man. Creep is so frightening because it suggests that identifying real-life monsters is rarely as easy as it is on screen. They don’t provide us unmistakable warning signs or bare the mischievous appearance of a Disney witch. In our world, outside the context of a three-act narrative and self-evident character roles, determining who might wish to do us harm is distressingly tricky.

In fact, most of us probably know someone like Josef in the first act of Creep. They’re outgoing and friendly, but they’re also a bit too open and they frequently invade the personal space of others without sensing resistance. They make jokes that leave their peers feeling extremely uncomfortable, justifying this as an example of their “weird sense of humor.” They’re always pushing people to see how much they will tolerate, instantly offering an apology when the behavior is questioned while never altering it in any way. Are we describing someone who is difficult but harmless, or someone who is dangerous and should be avoided at all costs?
We may not know the answer until it’s too late, as is the case with Aaron. Josef’s final move is to send Aaron a tape explaining that he has been pretending his whole life and has burnt every bridge, but all he really wants is a friend. In reality, this is merely yet another act of manipulation on Josef’s part, but Aaron isn’t convinced that this is the case. Despite dozens of red-flags, he wants to believe that Josef is kind at heart, and so he arrives at Lake Gregory willing to give him another chance. Ultimately, this trusting nature is his downfall.
No matter how cynical we might purport to be, most of us are very much like Aaron. We want to believe that others are fundamentally good in spite of their flaws. That person who has been treating me badly, we tell ourselves, is simply confused and imperfect, so they deserve a second chance…and then a third chance, and a fourth chance. We need to be cautious of the kind of over-the-top nutcase on display at the cinema, but not of seemingly average people. Right?
Unfortunately, real villains don’t wear crazy costumes or masks; they blend seamlessly into society, and their motives are just ambiguous enough for our guard to be lowered. That doesn’t mean we should live in a constant state of paranoia, but as Creep concludes, we ought to be as wary of emotionally abusive, toxic individuals as we would be of a Freddy Krueger or a Jason Voorhees. If only they were as easy to spot.

Editorials
Tales from ‘Tales from the Crypt’: Exhuming Season Six’s “Only Skin Deep” Episode
The penultimate season of Tales from the Crypt (1989–1996) aired its first three episodes on October 31, so it’s understandable that at least one of those three stories is set on Halloween.
Sandwiched between “Let the Punishment Fit the Crime” (Russell Mulcahy, Ron Finley) and “Whirlpool” (Mick Garris, A. L. Katz & Gilbert Adler) is the most severe episode of the bunch. Maybe the entire series? William Malone and Dick Beebe’s “Only Skin Deep” traded the show’s typical sense of fun for startling amounts of bleakness and kink.
“Only Skin Deep” is, apart from the Crypt Keeper’s intro and outro, noticeably unfunny. There are no considerable attempts at making the viewer laugh. Come to think of it, if those bookends had been replaced, and there was more of a sci-fi element in the story, HBO could have easily squeezed this tale into that successor anthology, Perversions of Science (1997). In Crypt, though, “Only Skin Deep” is much too grim for an audience that had become accustomed to campiness and levity.
What makes “Only Skin Deep” feel dark, among other things, is its protagonist. Showing up to a Halloween party where he’s not welcome, and where his former girlfriend (Diane DiLasco) is attending, Carl Schlag (Peter Onorati) first comes across as your standard bitter ex. You soon realize it’s much worse than that, once Carl threatens Linda (“You know, silly me, thinking I gave you what you deserved. If I’d have done that, I’d have killed you”). Now, I haven’t forgotten that Tales from the Crypt was teeming with vile men who did women harm. Yet Carl’s brand of misogynistic menace hits differently—it borders on being too realistic for this kind of series.

Mike Vosburg’s EC-style comic cover for “Only Skin Deep”, as seen in the Tales from the Crypt episode.
Despite donning a party mask for much of the episode, Carl can’t ever mask his true nature. The invitation did say “come as you are”, after all. That inability to change and be better, however, is why Carl ends up in such a karmic predicament. His outburst of anger at the party attracts the attention of one loner partygoer named Molly (Sherrie Rose, who was also in Season Four’s “On a Deadman’s Chest”). Her bone-white, featureless “mask” and body-bag costume don’t initially register as too strange, especially on a night like this. But at a party chock-full of colorful, cartoonish, and lighthearted ensembles, it does look out of place.
Darkness attracts darkness as Carl ditches the party and accompanies the mysterious Molly to her place. Which, by the way, should have been an immediate red flag. But perhaps she’s so hot, he doesn’t seem to mind the serial killer aesthetic. Resembling a warehouse that has been converted into living spaces, but never then decorated to remove the cold, industrial look, Molly’s home (or lair) is as gloomy as this whole episode feels. It’s like the set of a grungy music video, albeit a tad cleaner. The environments in a typical Crypt episode tend to be small, overfilled, and broken-in. Warm, regardless of any weird goings-on. All that empty space in Molly’s hovel, on the other hand, elicits a creepy feeling that Carl was unwise to ignore.
Tales from the Crypt featured more sex than it didn’t, but hands down, “Only Skin Deep” boasts the steamiest scene in the show’s history. Pushing it over the line, in addition to Onorati showing bare buns and the camera never turning down one of his pelvic thrusts, is the twisted dirty talk. Carl stays in the moment, whereas Molly unleashes charged lines like “the hurt, the anger, give it to me” and “take it out on my flesh like you want to”. It’s all quite kinky, as well as tied into the story’s theme of pain.
How else “Only Skin Deep” differs from other episodes is its twists. Or rather, its lack thereof. Nothing comes as a great surprise here, particularly because the deuteragonist’s ulterior motives are so obvious. By no means is Molly a wolf in sheep’s clothing; her face is a fright mask, she practically reeks of death, and she lives in what can best be described as a serial killer’s hideout. That last-act revelation of Molly’s mask really being her face is also nothing shocking. Cleverness is certainly not this episode’s strength.

A page from “…Only Skin Deep!”, as seen in EC Comics’ Tales from the Crypt.
While “Only Skin Deep” isn’t the most universally loved episode of Tales from the Crypt, it’s an interesting preview of William Malone’s future as a director. Most notably, he went on to helm House on Haunted Hill (1999) and FeardotCom (2002), the former of which was co-written by Dick Beebe, this episode’s writer. Dark Castle Entertainment, that genre house founded by Crypt producers Joel Silver, Robert Zemeckis, and Gilbert Adler, was instrumental in bringing out Malone’s gruesome, over-the-top vision in House on Haunted Hill. However, FeardotCom and Malone’s Masters of Horror episode, “Fair-Haired Child”, are the most stylistically compatible with “Only Skin Deep”.
As one might guess, this episode is nothing like its source material. The “…Only Skin Deep!” found in the pages of EC Comics is set during Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and save for its last couple of pages, is pretty sweet in nature. There, a man named Herbert is enamored with a woman he met five years prior to the present-day story. Every year, he has come down to Mardi Gras to see Suzanne, who’s always dressed as a hag-faced witch. Well, this time, Herbert plans on popping the question and marrying someone who is, for the most part, a total stranger. Suzanne accepts his proposal, but with one condition: they stay in costume until they’re officially hitched. You can probably see where this is going…
Once they are married, Suzanne remains incognito, even when she and Herbert have consummated their vows. A semi-predictive nightmare then rattles Herbert; he dreamt that Suzanne’s real face was as wizened as her mask. Finally, in his haste to find out the truth, Herbert winds up killing his new wife. Faceless and well on her way to bleeding out, the dying Suzanne manages to say she never wore a mask.
For more traditional EC-style ghastliness, your best bet is reading the comic. It’s wickedly sad. For something less conventional, as far as Tales from the Crypt goes, the role-reversing adaptation is worth watching. It’s not the best this show had to offer, although Malone’s visual style, plus the sexual abandon, does set the episode apart. If nothing else, “Only Skin Deep” leaves an impression that, even years later, shows no signs of fading.
Season Six of Tales from the Crypt can be streamed on Shudder, starting on June 5.
Tales from Tales from the Crypt celebrates the show’s Shudder premiere by singling out one episode from each season. So don’t even think about changing that dial, boys and ghouls. More spot-“frights” are to come.

Carl discovers Molly’s collection of human ‘masks’ in the Tales from the Crypt episode, “Only Skin Deep”.

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