Editorials
I Went to a Satanic Ritual and All I Got Was This Lousy Flag!
It’s only February and The Witch is being touted as the year’s best horror film (read Kalyn’s review from Fantastic Fest). As you may have read a few weeks ago, The Satanic Temple recently backed the film and took it on a four-city tour starting in New York, before moving on to Austin, Los Angeles and Detroit. I am lucky enough to live in Austin, where the Temple was making their third stop on the tour, so of course I jumped at the opportunity to partake in this unique experience (and it was a truly unique experience unlike any other). Interestingly enough, the Satanic Temple turns out to be the most appropriate sponsor for Robert Eggers’ terrifying horror film, and the ritual (which they called the Sabbat Ritual) was a ritualized “Convocation of the Godless” that denoted the inauguration of a “Satanic Revolution.” It was meant to “inspire a Satanic uprising against the tyrannical vestiges of bigoted superstitions, and will harken a new era of liberation and unfettered inquiry,” according to the event details.
I had already seen Robert Eggers’ film back in September at Fantastic Fest as well, and I enjoyed it immensely (not as much as Kalyn, but I still enjoyed it), but I wanted to see it a second time to let the film wash over me again. Upon a second viewing, I found myself noticing a ton of things that I didn’t catch the first time around, and I even found the film to be scarier the second time. It’s a miracle what tempered expectations can do to your opinion of a film.
Before I get to the real meat of this story, I would like to say my piece on The Witch: it is an excellent film. It is absolutely gorgeous filled with stellar performances (especially from the children). The score is haunting, the atmosphere is incredibly tense and it is quite scary. That being said, The Witch will be this year’s Babadook and It Follows. The hype tarnished my viewing experience at Fantastic Fest (not by much, but the effect was still there), so I can only imagine how much the hype has grown five months later. The Witch is a slow burn and has maybe a total of three jump scares (which is a breath of fresh air), but still manages to be incredibly tense and scary all throughout the film. Yet many people will walk out of the film claiming that it is either “boring” or “not scary.” That is inevitable, and before you go see it, I implore you to go in as blind as possible. Try not to read glowing reviews (maybe even just read the bad ones). Hopefully this will help you temper your expectations and will allow you to enjoy the film more.
Moving on, the schedule we were given for the night’s events was as follows:
6:30pm Check-in opens
6:45pm Jex Blackmore introduces screening and reminds guests of the ritual to follow.
7:00pm Screening starts at THE ALAMO DRAFTHOUSE
8:30pm Doors at THE SIDEWINDER bar open to public
9:30pm Ritual begins
The screening was held at the fabulous Alamo Drafthouse in the heart of downtown Austin. In case you didn’t know, the Alamo Drafthouse is the best movie theater in existence. Seriously though, its presence is enough to make me never want to move away. It’s that good. Anyway, I arrived, took my seat, ordered some food & booze and watched The Witch for the second time after Ms. Blackmore introduced the film.
After the screening, I took a 3-block walk to The Sidewinder, the venue for the Satanic Ritual. Just to give you a little bit of background on me: I was born and raised Catholic. I was raised to love God, worship Jesus, fear the Devil, etc. I’m almost 27, and at this point in my life I suppose I consider myself more of an agnostic, but I have a strong aversion to organized religion (it always sounds a little too cult-y to me). Nevertheless, some of those religious fears that were integrated into my mind are still there, so while I was open to the idea of attending a Satanic Ritual, I was more than a little nervous. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fear for my life at one point. I had this crazy idea that everyone present was going to get sacrificed at some point. I should have done my research on the Satanic Temple, as that did not happen and is not at all what they’re into, as you can see here. Seeing as I am not a member of the Satanic Temple, my terminology may not be correct for some of their titles. I apologize for that.
The Sidewinder is a typical Austin bar, and is probably the perfect place for a SXSW venue since it’s small and has a backyard (meaning people will be packed like sardines in this bar for that entire week).
Unfortunately, cell phones of any sort were not allowed in the bar, due to the fact that there was going to be nudity during the ritual, so I don’t have any photos that I can show off here. My words will just have to do. The Temple paid for all of our drinks, which I thought was polite (or an easy way to lower our inhibitions before they sacrificed us to Satan), and after about 30 minutes of waiting we were led to the backyard of the bar, where we were handed a small package containing a black-and-white American flag.
This flag had instructions on it:
These instructions would be repeated to us by Jex Blackmore before we were dismissed at the end of the ritual (I have not placed mine anywhere, though a friend of mine did put hers outside a bar we were at later in the evening).
On to the ritual! As I walked into the backyard of the bar, I was greeted with the sight of a stage with fog rolling off its edge. On the stage was a nude man and a nude woman, as well as three people wearing hooded robes (2 red and one black) holding a dagger and a mirror. After waiting for everyone to fill the yard (everyone on stage remained remarkably still while waiting for us), one of the men on stage began banging a large chain on a drum. This went on for several minutes, and once he was done a recording started to play.
At this point I would like to point out that there were a lot of people in this small yard and at this time I had had 3(ish) drinks in me so my attention was sort of all over the place. I will do my best to recount the events as they occurred, but I’ve never been very good at actively listening to sermons (which is what this ritual was) even when I’m 100% sober, so I have a tendency to zone out. Anyway, this recording was of one man detailing his interaction with Satanists. This recording went on (and on) for a while, until it stopped and the priestess in the black cloak (who was revealed to be Blackmore herself) began speaking about their cause, which you can read more about on their website linked to above.
As she began informing us, the nude man and woman stepped forward and then began chugging handles of “blood,” which was most likely wine (or red water). Basically, it looked like a jug of Carlo Rossi (see below). The nude female was really into it. She chugged and chugged the red liquid until it started overflowing out of her mouth and ran down her body. She was a trooper and finished it like a champ. The nude male, on the other hand, was not as into it. He wasn’t so much chugging as he was casually drinking. By the time the female finished, the male was only about halfway done.
Once the jugs were emptied, the priestess began spouting out a lot of propaganda. She mentioned many specific locations in Austin (abortion clinics, the home of right-wing governor Greg Abbott, etc.). She summarized their tenets and what the religion stands for, which is actually kind of sweet. Yes, I’m aware I just used the word “sweet” to describe the Satanic Temple. Reading over their website and listening to last night’s sermon, I can only imagine how much heckling they must receive (there were a group of religious protesters outside the Alamo Drafthouse when we left the screening.
The priestess then started to talk about how we are all bound to each other, at which point the nude man and woman stepped forward again and wrapped a large chain (the same one the gentlemen was banging on the drum at the beginning of the ritual) around their arms, literally binding them to each other. They got on their knees and faced the congregation as the priestess finished her sermon. Shouts of ‘Hail Satan!’ filled the open air as she asked everyone to take their black American flag (Satan Flag?) and place it where we thought Satan’s influence would be needed (like the aforementioned house of Governor Abbott). With that, she bid us adieu and the ritual was over.
Overall, it was an interesting experience. I admit that I did no research on the Temple or what the ritual would possible entail before I went to it, so my fears of death or ritual sacrifice were clearly unfounded. This organization doesn’t worship the Satan that Christians know. To them, Satan is “a symbol of man’s inherent nature, representative of the eternal rebel, enlightened inquiry and personal freedom rather than a supernatural deity or being.” You would think they would just call him something else, then there wouldn’t be as much hubbub about the Temple, but where’s the publicity in that?
I’m glad I got to go to the ritual and the screening, and while I can’t say I’m completely behind their cause, I do understand it. I still don’t understand organized religion, and because of that I will never be a convert, but still, I think it’s worth learning about.
If you’re super curious, more information about the Satanic Temple can be found at http://www.satanic-revolution.com/.
By the way, here’s me with my new flag:
Horror was thriving so well in the 1980s that movies like Pen Densham’s The Kiss (1988) would understandably get lost in the shuffle, only to then gain their fans later on in life. Even still, this one Canadian-American curio has had a more challenging time than others, as far as contemporary reevaluations go, which is very likely due to the movie’s limited availability—at least as of this write-up.
However, the scarceness of The Kiss, while a bit annoying, makes it like catnip for ‘80s horror completists everywhere. Hopefully, a lot of them will walk away satisfied after watching this hidden gem.
Even though The Kiss was intended as the first of several horror collaborations between Astral Pictures and TriStar, as well as the first feature produced by Densham, Richard B. Lewis and John Watson’s Trilogy Entertainment Group, it ended up being the only one produced from that former union. Once the movie was released, TriStar’s distribution jitters—they opted for a regional rollout—did the $6-million flick no favors. TriStar’s cold feet toward horror releases have been well noted, but The Kiss still did a tad better than Night of the Creeps (1986), another genre outing that flopped due to its regional opening.
Shot in Montreal, but set in Albany, New York, The Kiss—which was still called The Host just a few months before its October premiere—concerns an average middle-class family and their forthcoming situation. The uncanny problem in store for them was, in fact, set in motion some years earlier. As that hot and dusty flashback to the Belgian Congo shows, a familial curse was set upon the two Dunbar sisters well before Meredith Salenger’s teenage character was born.
Meredith Salenger, Nicholas Kilbertus and Mimi Kuzyk in The Kiss
The Kiss, which was based on a story by co-writer Stephen Volk (Ghostwatch) and penned by both Volk and Tom Ropelewski, has the outward appearance of The Stepfather (1987). This movie, though, is anything but a gender-flipped retread of that classic domestic disturber. For starters, The Kiss is far less grounded in reality—that much is clear from its unsettling opening scene. There, a trusting girl (Priscilla Mouzakiotis) is the victim of her own deceptive aunt (Céline Lomez); the movie’s titular act, and the story’s first shock, becomes the means of transferring an ancient evil from one host to another.
In the present day, Salenger’s role of Amy Halloran, a religious schoolgirl, is dealt a harsh blow in life once her mother, Hilary Halloran née Dunbar (Pamela Collyer), suddenly dies in a freak accident. But rather than a complete stranger sweeping the Halloran widower (Nicholas Kilbertus) off his feet some months later, Joanna Pacula’s character is that chosen temptress. Here, Pacula plays the grown-up version of the afflicted girl last seen in the movie’s opener. Since Amy’s mother is insistent about there being no reunion between estranged sisters, and she even contemplates buying a gun shortly before her tragic demise, it’s presumable that Aunt Felice poses a threat to her family.
The Kiss isn’t a movie ever too concerned about its own predictability. The audience is indeed often one step ahead of the story here, but also keep in mind how every one of those steps is loud. Take, for instance, the death of Amy’s mother; the Halloran matriarch goes out in garish, gruesome fashion, as a supernaturally commandeered truck sends Collyer’s character through a store window first, then leaves her one leg short. The directorial enthusiasm truly comes out in horrific moments such as these.
The Kiss is always sure to revel in its characters’ ills and misfortunes. So if the plot doesn’t impress, then its lurid parts should. Amy’s mother’s exit scene was proof of an eager, first-time horror director proving his worth. Then, bestie Heather (Sabrina Boudot) survives to tell the tale of a bizarre escalator mishap that, despite showing relatively less gore, spikes viewers’ empathy meter. The wilder bits of this movie, however, commence with that inevitable hookup between Felice and Amy’s bewitched father; their kitchen coitus is paralleled by Amy’s feverish classroom terror. The outcome there is a disquieting cross-cut of sex magic and a young woman’s menstrual onset plus hallucinations.
Sabrina Boudot in The Kiss
From foam appliances to bladders, that parade of special effects in The Kiss casts its own spell on the audience. Felice’s familiar, a visibly malevolent cat, was realized here with several models, some more articulate than others. Admittedly, the demon cat’s not as convincing as most of the effects here, but accepting that artifice, as opposed to fighting it, will make the whole experience way more enjoyable. As for the makeup used to manifest Felice’s inner villainy, it is more minimal and subtle than one might like; yet the work done to turn Pacula into an antithesis of herself is nonetheless compelling.
The otherworldly perils and dreadful goings-on wouldn’t work half as well as they do in The Kiss without the story’s contrast effect. Finding frights in picturesque, extremely ordinary settings was something that took off in the ‘80s, thanks to that sweeping shift to locales like the suburbs. And Amy’s home, a replica of a real Montreal suburban house, is the ideal battleground for any proper good-versus-evil story. It’s also prime real estate for this movie’s satanic panic-inspired horrors.
Because of their ostensibly similar plots, The Kiss has been compared to The Exorcist (1973). Except in Densham’s movie, the sinister, non-Christian entity targeting a teen girl lies within something less apparent and, perhaps, more devastating upon its exposure. To an outsider, Pacula’s Aunt Felice is too beautiful and unobjectionable to ever suspect of being a monster. More suspicious is how quickly she rips into the fabric of the Halloran home. Felice’s mere presence upsets the “texture of family life,” according to the director.
The demon cat in The Kiss
Taking out Amy’s mother and best friend, and distracting her father, would suggest The Kiss is playing by a different set of rules. It is initially leaving its adolescent target unsupported in a rather grim scenario. In contrast, though, this story offers up a surrogate parent who does her best to fill in the holes of Amy’s eroding home life. Mimi Kuzyk does good work as that family friend and doctor, Brenda, who guides the lost child without also steering her in any one direction; she is naturally skeptical of Amy’s accusations until it’s almost too late to do anything about them. So although The Kiss does an admirable job of undoing the main character’s support system, it never leaves her without a lifeline. This dark movie, in spite of everything that’s transpired, doesn’t deprive itself of light and hope.
The Kiss is a potent mélange of familiar ideas. If not for the director’s surprise flair for horror, though, the movie would have been less effective. What a shame that Pen Densham didn’t continue with the genre. As for Joanna Pacula, she is, too, owed credit as the wicked vixen opposite Meredith Salenger’s pitiable Amy; she never fails to be unsettling in her role. Pacula makes Aunt Felice a sexy yet intimidating character.
For horror that steadily doles out madness and menace, while also delivering a flashy and ghastly conclusion, The Kiss is certain to please. Yes, it’s cheesy all the way, but most favorably, everyone involved plays everything straight. That kind of commitment goes a long way with this movie.
The Kiss
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