Editorials
Why I Fear the Wizzrobes in ‘The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild’
I remember my first steps outside the tutorial area in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild as it had been yesterday, becoming an outsider in a behemoth of a game. But it wasn’t the story, the gorgeous landscapes or the sense of wonder that left that memory in my head. It was the smile of a fucking Wizzrobe.
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild starts with tangible chaos menacing everyone in Hyrule. Ganon, in its ethereal and dark shape, torments the castle where no one else but Zelda is there to defend what’s left of a world facing the abyss. Link is determined to help her after waking up from his long sleep, but there are swarms of enemies waiting for him pretty much everywhere.
A massive boulder blocking your path might surprise you by lifting itself up, revealing its colossus form. There are Bokoblins pretty much everywhere, chilling in their campsites around trees and caves. And don’t even get me started on the cute-but-deadly Chuchus or those treacherous Lynel.
The flora and fauna of this modern Hyrule are vast and worth exploring, but with trepidation, and always with the right equipment and a few dishes in Link’s tummy to endure in battle. But as I quickly learned during my time with the game, you can never be too prepared for an encounter with a Wizzrobe.
These creatures, present in The Legend of Zelda series since literally the early days, have been iterated in all forms and shapes. Hell, there even was a time where they could be considered cute enemies to confront. But in heart, they’ve always been undead wizards that are considered ruthless foes for Link. They specialize in one type of magic and have the ability to become invisible and teleport around.
In Breath of the Wild, they’re scarier than ever, their presence only strengthens by a more life-like and sinister design, resembling a dark imp with a long robe that showcases their element magic of choice. But it’s in the way they interact with both themselves in solitude and Link’s presence that really got me.
My first steps in Hyrule were totally fresh for me since it’s the first time I’ve ever sat down to play a Zelda game. I know, you don’t need to say it, but this isn’t about me. Thing is, all enemies were new, and everything proved to be a surprise. Encountering a Wizzrobe, though, is something else entirely.
The first time I saw one, the long-gone wizard was dancing in the air. I thought it was funny, so I got closer, thinking it was an NPC waiting for me to interact with them. But then I saw that smile, heard the eerie sounds each one of its steps did and noticed how it stopped for a second when I was close enough. The Wizzrobe smiled at me once more, waved its hand saluting me kindly, and then disappeared.
Without having a moment to react, it was already behind Link, striking him with a lightning bolt. I was an intense moment, and it took me a few seconds to recover from that sudden encounter. I had never seen anything like it, an enemy like this just openly mocking you, or maybe one so trapped in its own Malevich tendencies that were actually happy to see me, only for the sake of fighting against me.
The worst part is that is easy enough to kill them if you play in a clever way. It only takes you to use the exact opposite magical element on them, and that’s it. They vanish from existence. But if you don’t happen to have the right equipment, or get ambushed by several different Wizzrobes at the same time, you’re in for a rough time.
I’ll never forget that first encounter, but there’s a similar personal reaction every time I see one out in the open. It makes me stop and rethink my next movements, maybe leading to sneaking around a hill or just finding a different path altogether. There are many dangers in Breath of the Wild, but Wizzrobes are the only creatures out there that manage to scare me every single time, putting me on alert as if I was playing a horror game.
They don’t get close to any of the biggest menaces of Hyrule. Once you’re well equipped and prepared for anything, you can take them down easily. But there’s still something weird about them as if they shouldn’t belong in this world at all. They live in their own world, endlessly dancing and singing to themselves until they’re approached by Link.
The Wizzrobe waves and smiles. And in the blink of an eye, they disappear. But the fear doesn’t go anywhere.
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”.
You must be logged in to post a comment.