Connect with us

Editorials

No More Clowning Around: A History of Scary Clowns in Cinema

Published

on

We all have that one friend who is mind-numbingly afraid of clowns—if you Clockwork Orange’d them in a chair and screened IT for them against their will, they’d probably unfriend you on Facebook and in real life. While coulrophobia (aka the fear of clowns) isn’t recognized by any psychological manual, horror fans get it. Clowns are unnerving, with their excessively wide, painted grins and their oversized, freaky getups (and don’t get me started on the shoes). But when did these jester-types start stalking children on bicycles and turning fun houses into haunted houses? How were these joyous buffoons subverted into waking nightmares?

Sure, Tim Curry and Stephen King’s Pennywise gets a lot of cred’ (understandably so), but let’s take this back. Clowns can be traced back to Ancient Egypt and China, but clowns as we know them formed around the 16th century. Jester-types popped up in the works of Shakespeare and also Greek and Roman theatres. One step further, the modern day circus clown originated in the 19th century, thanks to Joseph Grimaldi, who Smithsonian calls the “first recognizable ancestor of the modern clown.” Grimaldi’s pantomime career led him down a tragic path of alcoholism and depression, something a young Charles Dickens would capitalize on for The Pickwick Papers, which depicted its clown character as drunk and ghastly, a character who would literally destroy himself for his audience’s benefit. Some even credit Dickens for planting the seeds of the evil clown motif that would go on to haunt future plays, films, and audiences.

As the century progressed, clown attire morphed from servants’ rags to the whole shebang: white face paint, oversized clothes, and shoes, red noses, etc. As the outfits became bolder, the characters grew darker. In the 1892 Italian opera Pagliacci by Ruggero Leoncavallo, an actor-clown kills his cheating wife while performing on stage. French author Catuelle Mendès’ 1887 play La Femme de Tabarin saw a similar plotline (and one Mendès’ would later sue his successor over). Clowns became tainted with morbidity; the imagery of men living and killing behind a veil of makeup and costumes became a tangible terror for audiences worldwide.

History had done a fine job of subverting the clown persona, and writers and filmmakers exploited that, watering the seeds so finely planted by the playwrights and authors before them. Sinister clowns in film can be traced as far back as 1924’s silent picture He Who Gets Slapped. Lon Chaney stars as Paul Beaumont, a man who gets a circus gig where dozens of clowns beat the hell out of him every single night in a circus ring. Flash forward to today, the hype over this year’s IT remake proves that the threat of evil clowns in horror is going nowhere fast. While Tim Curry’s performance is beyond iconic, Pennywise isn’t the only nightmare-inducing clown deserving screams.

While clowns’ reputations rebounded somewhat in the ‘50s and ‘60s (thanks in part to Howdy Doody’s Clarabell the Clown, Bozo the Clown, and Ronald McDonald), this return to innocence was short lived thanks to one of America’s most vicious serial killers. John Wayne Gacy was a registered clown who entertained under the name Pogo, and between 1972 and 1978, he sexually assaulted and murdered more than 35 men in the Chicago area. While he reportedly never killed in costume, the media picked up the story of Gacy’s clowning and ran with it. Headlines would continue to deconstruct the clown concept and terrorize the public. (Gacy’s life would later be depicted in 2003’s Gacy.) His brutality made it irrefutable: clowns were mischievous, mysterious beings that were not to be trusted, and in the most extreme cases, they were disturbed and murderous.

In 1982, no child saw Poltergeist and walked away unscathed. When Robbie Freeling is attacked by his clown doll in his bedroom thanks to a demonic presence, it made everyone sink low in their seats. Poltergeist might even be the sole cause of many adults’ still-lingering revulsion of clowns. (I can only imagine that anyone with a similar doll placed theirs at the bottom of a garbage can that year.)

Killer Klowns from Outer Space put another unique spin on the sub-genre, using over-the-top, cartoony, alien versions as a world-endangering threat. What’s comical now was beyond frightening as a child, and those who were kids in 1988 have the Chiodo Brothers to thank/blame. The film was alternative and culty, yet still entirely demented.

If demonic possession and Killer Klowns didn’t rattle your cage, certainly Sig Haig’s turn as Captain Spaulding in House of 1,000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects raised the hairs on your neck. Say what you will about Rob Zombie’s movies, but Haig staked his claim in the clown hall of fame as one of the craziest and most brutal psychopaths to ever hit the screen.

Clowns pop up in almost every sub-genre of horror, from zombie films (Zombieland) to torture porn (the Saw franchise), to even campy fare like Krampus (not to mention the endless list of B- and C-level indie fare). Clowns are a scare that storytellers have leaned on for hundreds of years, a tried-and-true plot element that always turns the crazy up to batshit levels. While they may have had innocent beginnings, the perversion of clowns and the dread they induce will never die.

– Nick Caruso (http://thelittlestwinslow.com/, @LittlestWinslow)

Editorials

‘Amityville Karen’ Is a Weak Update on ‘Serial Mom’ [Amityville IP]

Published

on

Amityville Karen horror

Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”

A bizarre recurring issue with the Amityville “franchise” is that the films tend to be needlessly complicated. Back in the day, the first sequels moved away from the original film’s religious-themed haunted house storyline in favor of streamlined, easily digestible concepts such as “haunted lamp” or “haunted mirror.”

As the budgets plummeted and indie filmmakers capitalized on the brand’s notoriety, it seems the wrong lessons were learned. Runtimes have ballooned past the 90-minute mark and the narratives are often saggy and unfocused.

Both issues are clearly on display in Amityville Karen (2022), a film that starts off rough, but promising, and ends with a confused whimper.

The promise is embodied by the tinge of self-awareness in Julie Anne Prescott (The Amityville Harvest)’s screenplay, namely the nods to John Waters’ classic 1994 satire, Serial Mom. In that film, Beverly Sutphin (an iconic Kathleen Turner) is a bored, white suburban woman who punished individuals who didn’t adhere to her rigid definition of social norms. What is “Karen” but a contemporary equivalent?

In director/actor Shawn C. Phillips’ film, Karen (Lauren Francesca) is perpetually outraged. In her introductory scenes, she makes derogatory comments about immigrants, calls a female neighbor a whore, and nearly runs over a family blocking her driveway. She’s a broad, albeit familiar persona; in many ways, she’s less of a character than a caricature (the living embodiment of the name/meme).

These early scenes also establish a fairly straightforward plot. Karen is a code enforcement officer with plans to shut down a local winery she has deemed disgusting. They’re preparing for a big wine tasting event, which Karen plans to ruin, but when she steals a bottle of cursed Amityville wine, it activates her murderous rage and goes on a killing spree.

Simple enough, right?

Unfortunately, Amityville Karen spins out of control almost immediately. At nearly every opportunity, Prescott’s screenplay eschews narrative cohesion and simplicity in favour of overly complicated developments and extraneous characters.

Take, for example, the wine tasting event. The film spends an entire day at the winery: first during the day as a band plays, then at a beer tasting (???) that night. Neither of these events are the much touted wine-tasting, however; that is actually a private party happening later at server Troy (James Duval)’s house.

Weirdly though, following Troy’s death, the party’s location is inexplicably moved to Karen’s house for the climax of the film, but the whole event plays like an afterthought and features a litany of characters we have never met before.

This is a recurring issue throughout Amityville Karen, which frequently introduces random characters for a scene or two. Karen is typically absent from these scenes, which makes them feel superfluous and unimportant. When the actress is on screen, the film has an anchor and a narrative drive. The scenes without her, on the other hand, feel bloated and directionless (blame editor Will Collazo Jr., who allows these moments to play out interminably).

Compounding the issue is that the majority of the actors are non-professionals and these scenes play like poorly performed improv. The result is long, dull stretches that features bad actors talking over each other, repeating the same dialogue, and generally doing nothing to advance the narrative or develop the characters.

While Karen is one-note and histrionic throughout the film, at least there’s a game willingness to Francesca’s performance. It feels appropriately campy, though as the film progresses, it becomes less and less clear if Amityville Karen is actually in on the joke.

Like Amityville Cop before it, there are legit moments of self-awareness (the Serial Mom references), but it’s never certain how much of this is intentional. Take, for example, Karen’s glaringly obvious wig: it unconvincingly fails to conceal Francesca’s dark hair in the back, but is that on purpose or is it a technical error?

Ultimately there’s very little to recommend about Amityville Karen. Despite the game performance by its lead and the gentle homages to Serial Mom’s prank call and white shoes after Labor Day jokes, the never-ending improv scenes by non-professional actors, the bloated screenplay, and the jittery direction by Phillips doom the production.

Clocking in at an insufferable 100 minutes, Amityville Karen ranks among the worst of the “franchise,” coming in just above Phillips’ other entry, Amityville Hex.

Amityville Karen

The Amityville IP Awards go to…

  • Favorite Subplot: In the afternoon event, there’s a self-proclaimed “hot boy summer” band consisting of burly, bare-chested men who play instruments that don’t make sound (for real, there’s no audio of their music). There’s also a scheming manager who is skimming money off the top, but that’s not as funny.
  • Least Favorite Subplot: For reasons that don’t make any sense, the winery is also hosting a beer tasting which means there are multiple scenes of bartender Alex (Phillips) hoping to bring in women, mistakenly conflating a pint of beer with a “flight,” and goading never before seen characters to chug. One of them describes the beer as such: “It looks like a vampire menstruating in a cup” (it’s a gold-colored IPA for the record, so…no).
  • Amityville Connection: The rationale for Karen’s killing spree is attributed to Amityville wine, whose crop was planted on cursed land. This is explained by vino groupie Annie (Jennifer Nangle) to band groupie Bianca (Lilith Stabs). It’s a lot of nonsense, but it is kind of fun when Annie claims to “taste the damnation in every sip.”
  • Neverending Story: The film ends with an exhaustive FIVE MINUTE montage of Phillips’ friends posing as reporters in front of terrible green screen discussing the “killer Karen” story. My kingdom for Amityville’s regular reporter Peter Sommers (John R. Walker) to return!
  • Best Line 1: Winery owner Dallas (Derek K. Long), describing Karen: “She’s like a walking constipation with a hemorrhoid”
  • Best Line 2: Karen, when a half-naked, bleeding woman emerges from her closet: “Is this a dream? This dream is offensive! Stop being naked!”
  • Best Line 3: Troy, upset that Karen may cancel the wine tasting at his house: “I sanded that deck for days. You don’t just sand a deck for days and then let someone shit on it!”
  • Worst Death: Karen kills a Pool Boy (Dustin Clingan) after pushing his head under water for literally 1 second, then screeches “This is for putting leaves on my plants!”
  • Least Clear Death(s): The bodies of a phone salesman and a barista are seen in Karen’s closet and bathroom, though how she killed them are completely unclear
  • Best Death: Troy is stabbed in the back of the neck with a bottle opener, which Karen proceeds to crank
  • Wannabe Lynch: After drinking the wine, Karen is confronted in her home by Barnaby (Carl Solomon) who makes her sign a crude, hand drawn blood contract and informs her that her belly is “pregnant from the juices of his grapes.” Phillips films Barnaby like a cross between the unhoused man in Mulholland Drive and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway. It’s interesting, even if the character makes absolutely no sense.
  • Single Image Summary: At one point, a random man emerges from the shower in a towel and excitedly poops himself. This sequence perfectly encapsulates the experience of watching Amityville Karen.
  • Pray for Joe: Many of these folks will be back in Amityville Shark House and Amityville Webcam, so we’re not out of the woods yet…

Next time: let’s hope Christmas comes early with 2022’s Amityville Christmas Vacation. It was the winner of Fangoria’s Best Amityville award, after all!

Amityville Karen movie

Continue Reading