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Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid: An Intro to Body Horror!

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When you think of body horror, David Cronenberg likely pops into mind. The director’s earlier horror films cornered the market on gruesome, psychologically twisted transformations and breakdowns of the human body, after all. But body horror existed long before, with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein an earlier example, and the sub-genre has thrived and evolved long since Cronenberg left horror. Horror is a genre that flourishes on fear of the unknown, and this sub-genre exploits that fear in the worst possible way.

Body horror is a reminder that sometimes death is better, as we watch in disgust while the victims are trapped inside their own bodies as it degenerates and mutates into something unfamiliar and unidentified. On a visceral level, it disturbs because it’s disturbing and gross to look at. On an emotional level, though, body horror instills a deeper level of fear because we tend to fear losing who we are as people. Seth Brundle’s slow mutation into the Brundle-fly monster in The Fly visually repulsed as his teeth fell out and he vomited digestive enzymes to eat, but his story evoked sympathy due to his desperation to cling to whatever humanity he had left. His transformation was consuming him body and soul.

Body horror as we now know it really began to emerge in the 1950s, with The Fly and The Blob. Both standouts of horror for its time, both a showcase of practical effects, and both would eventually get remade decades later. The most prominent entry in body horror in the ‘60s was, surprisingly, Rosemary’s Baby. Roman Polanski’s classic horror film explored the fears of motherhood, and poor Rosemary Woodhouse (Mia Farrow) never truly had autonomy over her own body. Her own husband drugged her and offered her up to Satan, and the resulting pregnancy was controlled at every turn by the surrounding witches. Even when the Antichrist baby in her womb was making her very ill.

The Incredible Melting Man

1977 propelled body horror forward in a major way with David Lynch’s Eraserhead, William Sachs’ The Incredible Melting Man, and Cronenberg’s Rabid. Cronenberg had already began his exploration of body horror with 1975’s Shivers, but Rabid broadened the scope of the horror as lead Marilyn Chambers’ Rose found herself patient zero for a zombie outbreak thanks to an experimental procedure that was thrust upon her post motorcycle crash. The Incredible Melting Man followed astronaut Steve West (Alex Rebar) slowly melting away upon his return to Earth following serious radiation exposure in space. Narratively, the film is rather dull, but it’s memorable for Rick Baker’s fantastic makeup effects work that makes West’s slow disintegration so gnarly. Lynch gave a surreal twist to body horror with Eraserhead, as Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) learns to care for and cope with a deformed child. It’s strange and dreamlike.

The golden age of practical effects in the ‘80s, meant body horror exploded. 1980 saw another entry in the surreal, with Ken Russell’s Altered States. Starring William Hurt in his debut role, he played Dr. Eddie Jessup, a professor seeking an alternate plane of existence by way of drugs and deprivation chambers. Jessup morphs and transforms with each experiment in the chambers. Two years later brought John Carpenter’s The Thing, a masterclass in paranoia and practical effects, as the Antarctic research team is hunted by a shape-shifting alien that assumes the appearance of its victims. Cronenberg’s Scanners, Videodrome, The Fly, and Dead Ringers firmly established the director as a defining voice in body horror. But there’s also one oft-overlooked voice that played an integral role in ‘80s body horror; H.P. Lovecraft.

Stuart Gordon’s love of Lovecraft delivered gooey, slimy, gory body horror in the form of Re-Animator and From Beyond. Re-Animator, loosely based on short story Herbert West-Reanimator, followed the exploits of Jeffrey Combs’ Herbert West as his reanimating agent leads to serious undead trouble. From Beyond sees Jeffrey Combs once again in the lead as Dr. Crawford Tillinghast, a survivor of Dr. Pretorius’ alternate reality experiments gone wrong. Pretorius’ machine opens the portal to an alternate world that leaves humans in extended close proximity forever morphed. Gordon’s producing partner Brian Yuzna would tackle gooey body horror of his own in 1989’s Society, though the body horror would remain subtle into the surreal final act infamously known as the “shunting.”

Clive Barker merged body horror with hell in 1987’s Hellraiser, as Frank Cotton’s reverse resurrection was the gory stuff of nightmares. Throw in sadomasochism and self-mutilation, and Hellraiser further broadened the scope of body horror. Japan was also experimenting with body horror in the late ‘80s, exploring government tests via animation in Akira and extreme metal meets man body horror in Tetsuo: The Iron Man.

If you thought the ‘90s were a wasteland of body horror, then seek out Braindead (Dead Alive) and Body Melt. The former takes a comical approach to the zombie outbreak and injects it with an insane amount of gore and body horror. The latter sees residents of a small town being used as test subjects for a drug that causes painful death by way of rapid decomposition. Both films take body horror to gag-worthy levels and it’s recommended that you skip out on eating while watching.

It wasn’t until the following decade, though, that body horror would return in a big way. Eli Roth’s Cabin Fever made you afraid of infection with the flesh-eating virus at the center of the film. James Gunn injected humor in body horror with Slither, its alien invasion leading to all forms of grotesque mutations. Then there’s The Human Centipede, a horror film that seeks to offend based on premise alone; a mad scientist seeks to create a human centipede by stitching his kidnapped victims together, rectum to mouth.

A new trend in body horror started to emerge; the coming of age horror story. Teeth, Ginger Snaps, Raw, and Blue My Mind all took the horrors of female puberty and twisted it further with strange body transformations. In Ginger Snaps, the onslaught of puberty was represented with Ginger’s oncoming infection of lycanthropy, while transitioning into womanhood meant transforming into a wholly different beast in Blue My Mind. Teeth and Raw interpreted sexual awakening with monstrous results.

Body horror overlaps and blends well with other sub-genres of horror, and offers more internal depth than just outward body transformations. It may have begun rooted in conscious fears of losing control of our own bodies as the characters on screen lost control of theirs via mutilation, transformation, or decomposition. Now it can reflect our medical fears, unwanted change, technological fears, and even fears of natural growth. This is only a tip of the iceberg, so be afraid. Be very afraid.

Horror journalist, RT Top Critic, and Critics Choice Association member. Co-Host of the Bloody Disgusting Podcast. Has appeared on PBS series' Monstrum, served on the SXSW Midnighter shorts jury, and moderated horror panels for WonderCon and SeriesFest.

Editorials

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

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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

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