Editorials
Culinary Horrors: 14 Times Delicious Foods Bit Back in Horror Movies
As someone who’s first-hand witnessed the confidential (sometimes troubling) goings-on in professional kitchens, both staffed alongside a head cook or running the show, I’m baffled how “Culinary Horror” isn’t a beefier subgenre. Recent news confirmed Sony would be adapting the Anthony Bourdain co-created Hungry Ghosts comics into an animated series, and that got my mind revving. What are some five-star examples of “Culinary Horror?” I’m talking about anthropomorphic appetizers, or possessed entrées, or nightmarish food retaliations in unexpected ways.
Before you get your Sunday stew all in a boil, note I’ve forgone including cannibalism-straight flicks that stick to grinding human meat into signature dishes. Delicatessen or Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street. My intent is not to disrespect, but I’m more interested in “Culinary Horror” that dares to dream bigger. Turn fruits into vicious invaders. Have your Fall loaf stare back at hungry eaters. Horror chefs over the years have perfected their secret herbs and spices when feeding barbecued flesh to the masses – let’s push for a bite with a bit more exotic designs, shall we?
A Nightmare On Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988): Extra Cheese, Extra Souls
When I hear the term “Culinary Horror,” A Nightmare On Elm Street 4: The Dream Master pops into my brain like golden strudels from a toaster. As Freddy Krueger taunts Alice in dreamland’s creeped-up version of local diner “Crave Inn,” she’s served a morbid pizza. Freddy calls it “the usual,” topped with pepperoni, bubbly cheese, and miniature “meatballs” aka Rick’s head begging for mercy. Freddy stabs one of the “Rickballs” with his pointer finger blade, the screaming morsel dripping pizza juices, and pops the bite into his mouth.
Not only do we get a haunting effect as Rick’s prop meatball head whimpers before Freddy chows down, but Robert Englund gets to deliver yet another Freddy Krueger one-liner: “I love soul food!” It’s hilarious, it’s gross, and it’s everything that asserts A Nightmare On Elm Street as one of horror’s most creative slasher franchises.
The Stuff (1985): What’s Eating You?
The Stuff might be on-the-nose consumerism commentary, but its whipped savviness still enforces all the satirical anger present in Larry Cohen’s creamy sci-fi invasion flick. As a mystery substance is packaged, marketed, and sold to the public as an addictive dessert, it turns out to be as deadly as it is delicious. “The Stuff” starts ejecting from people’s bodies like a possessive symbiote that requires a host, yet households can’t stop gulping the marshmallowy, white ice cream substitute. “Are you eating it…or is it eating you?” Cohen’s commentary notes how the junk we continue to purchase and ingest is pushed by corporate backing despite widely noted dangers, which the public either ignores or doesn’t seem to regard. Humanity is *quite literally* poisoning itself, and while we might not be transforming into braindead “Stuff Zombies,” as products continue to be recalled or re-evaluated, thirty-four years haven’t taught us a damn thing. I wish I could watch The Stuff as the genre comedy it is, but Cohen’s themes ring just as loudly today.
Then again, that’s what makes The Stuff a certifiable “Culinary Horror” Classic. Chocolate Chip Charlie’s death as “Stuff” gurgles out his unhinged mouth is prosthetic effects genius. Go ahead, get Stuff’ed.
Killer Klowns From Outer Space (1988): Cotton Candy Cocoons
The hand-spun sweetness of cotton candy is a staple at any county fair or carnival, so it’s only appropriate the Chiodo brothers “horrorized” the sticky crystallized clouds in Killer Klowns From Outer Space. Once a yummy treat, now a lightbulb-shaped cocoon that drains the life from captured townsfolk. Mike grabs a handful of pink sugary fuzz thinking nothing odd, until a revealed bloody face confirms each sack holds a body that’s dissolving into goop. Why? So the clowns can slurp once-human liquids out the cocoons with Krazy Straws.
In terms of frightening foods, these swinging confectionary pouches look the least threatening. Unfortunately for the residents of Crescent Cove, it’s what’s on the inside that counts.
It (1990): Fortune Cookie Freakshow
In the original adaptation of Stephen King’s It, the grown-up Losers’ Club ditch their appetites when fortune cookies become Pennywise’s minions. Bev goes to open hers first, and blood explodes outward like the take-out staple was a living entity. Each cookie assumes its Halloween-y form, whether it be a pinch-happy biscuit with claws or a stationary delectable with an eyeball keeping watch. When that one hairy arachnid-ish leg emerges from within? Pure “Culinary Horror.” No telling what’s kept hidden inside the glazed shell, our imaginations at the mercy of a not-so-savory surprise released by each unfortunate treat.
It’ll be interesting to see if and how Andy Muschietti’s sequel redoes this Chinese restaurant scene. Practical effects define the made-for-television version’s crunchy critters, but if Muschietti’s “Part 1” is any indication, his cookies will be concoctions of Gordon Ramsay’s deepest fears.
Cooties (2014): Infected Chicken Nuggets
Factory treatment of chickens raised for mass-produced cafeteria delicacies such as chicken nuggets has long been protested, scrutinized, and legally weighed. In Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion’s opening credits sequence for Cooties, we find out why. The camera follows an infected fowl from snapped neck (sorry animal lovers) to an elementary school child’s mouth. Feathers are yanked, heads decapitated, meat slurries tainted with swamp-green toxins – it’s nauseating enough to put me off breaded poultry bites for good.
Even worse? The chickens fight back as said child above bites into a rancid nugget that oozes rotten verde mucus, which in turn morphs the hungry lil’ tyke into a ravenous patient zero “zombie.” What follows is a rather riotous and comical teachers vs. nugget outbreak monsters take on zombie cinema, but holy guacamole if those opening minutes aren’t enough to ruin anyone’s breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner.
Todd & The Book Of Pure Evil (2010-2012): Happy Deathday!
Each Todd & The Book Of Pure Evil episode, a new demonic formation stalks the halls of Crowley High. One such manifestation created by “The Book” is a satanic birthday cake that eats students when a sheltered classmate gets her wish to receive the birthday love she was never allowed. As her “pet” feeds, its host ages rapidly – sustained by the years of each birthday victim the cake claims. Chowdowns play for comedic effect, but the frosted bastard itself promotes “Culinary Horror” as it should. How else can you frame an elderly birthday geezer being wheeled into the mouth of a behemoth, sharp-toothed birthday cake?
Be careful what you wish for in Todd’s “Deathday” episode, but, I don’t know. I’d probably risk it for a gigantic cake that might or might not eat me? Sorry I’ve got a sweet spot for cakey treats. Sue me.
Drag Me to Hell (2009): Harvest Cake
Alison Lohman’s Christine suffers extensively after an older woman hexes her in Sam Raimi’s Drag Me To Hell. One such breakdown involves what at first appears to be a tasty slice of Harvest Cake. Christine notices her piece is trembling, and after going in for a bite, an eye pops open. Glaring at her, covered in crumbs. With no options, Christine slams the fork through her dessert’s eyeball. Blood and puss erupt from the piercing wound, as the cake emits a high-pitched squeal only she can hear. No one else’s cake is playing “eye spy,” only Christine’s on account of her eternal occult damnation. There’s toying with your food, and then there’s blinding it.
For good measure, she later coughs up a fly in front of her significant other, played by Justin Long, and his parents. One glance from mama at the fruity bits resembling flies within the cake and her appetite vanishes. Shocker.
Dead Sushi (2012): “Slashimi” Special
Noboru Iguchi’s Dead Sushi is an extreme Japanese midnighter that sells 1,000% of the titled “Culinary Horror” weirdness. Yes, sushi comes alive and starts attacking hungry patrons. Salmon roe roll-ups fly through midair, their fangs ready to chew, turning the tides on chopstick-holding restaurateurs. It’s…downright hilarious. So many different varieties of sushi gnawing human flesh, turning people into sushi zombies with white rice spilling out their mouths. Then fish-head man shows up and the party *really* gets started. As if eating raw fish wasn’t daring enough, Iguchi’s enraged rolls arm themselves with bladed textures, hysterical giggles, and bloodthirsty attacks.
“Sushi action! Sushi erotica! Sushi violence!” Dead Sushi is the “Attack of the Killer Sushi” movie you’ve dreamed about. Bless Japan’s unshakable ability to be like, “Yo, wanna see something crazy?” Yes. Every time, yes.
Ice Cream Man (1995): Double Scoop Of Death
Point me towards a better pictorial example of “Culinary Horror” than the shot above. Clint Howard holds a novelty-sized waffle cone stuffed with his latest special: Decapitation Sundae. In Ice Cream Man, Howard’s deranged curbside purveyor of frozen treats uses his victims’ body parts as ice cream flavor enhancements, but the shot of a man’s head served as a scoop is next-level grindhouse notoriety. It’s the kind of genre playfulness that executes a gory high note and very nature of promised “Ice Cream Man Horror” (even if I’m more of a cookie dough guy myself).
Any ice cream man can be a killer, but if cannibalism already enters the fray, go all the way. Stuff a cone full of bloody inerts and plop an entire human head on top. Either it gets massive laughs or you’re a hero of the genre. SHOOT. YOUR. SHOT.
The Gingerdead Man (2005): Killsbury Doughboy
The Gingerdead Man honors/copies Child’s Play by shoving Gary Busey’s soul into a festive cookie prison. The ashes of serial killer Millard Findlemeyer (Busey) are baked into gingerbread dough by his witch mother, so her deceased son can murder the girl who had him executed. Leave it to low-budget horror veteran Charles Band to bend outside horror’s cookie-cutter mold when creating his bakery thriller. Far goofier than it is spiced with proper scares, but Band’s mean n’ crumbly killer pops from the oven ready to slice up the competition.
A reanimated Christmas cookie that walks, talks, and grins like Gary Busey? Sorry, maybe this movie is far scarier than I’m remembering. *Remembers puns.* Oh, right.
Poultrygeist: Night Of The Chicken Dead (2006): Kentucky Fried Fear
Troma’s disgusting eco-friendly corporate fast food satire musical Poultrygeist is jammed full of “Culinary Horror” goodness. Restaurant chain American Chicken Bunker builds their latest franchise atop an Indian burial ground, which in turn causes displaced souls to possess greasy-fingered consumers. ACB’s biggest fans turn into “chicken zombies,” while underpaid employees (named after real fast food chains) all meet gruesome kitchen-themed deaths (scalding frier oil, meat grinders, deli slicers, you name it). In true Troma fashion, the likes of “Paco Bell” and “Carl Jr.” find out what happens when you tamper with conglomerate greed atop sacred soil.
Did you eat tainted fried chicken? Then you turn into feathered chicken creatures intent on killing and crave American Chicken Bunker’s secret recipe until an unceremonious beaked death.
Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes (1978): Pass The Ketchup
Save it. I know Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes! isn’t “scary,” but it’s a spoof monster flick that sets tomatoes on the loose, so yes, John De Bello’s cult “classic” fits my definition of “Culinary Horror.” Also, it features one of the dumbest but funniest dad-joke gags in any “Culinary Horror” film. “Master of disguise” Sam Smith is seen eating a hamburger while sitting between two tomato foes, having infiltrated their camp dressed as a tomato himself. Foolishly he asks the tomatoes for ketchup, blowing his camouflage. Sam smashes the hamburger against his head out of frustration. Cut to a zoom-in on Smith’s face that holds way longer than necessary.
It is, again, so incredibly lame in the driest way. That said, I get it. I’m a ketchup guy. No burger is complete with that artificially tomato’ed sauce from the heavens.
Thinner (1996): Special Strawberry Pie
Tom Holland’s adaptation of Stephen King’s Thinner is a zanier brand of “Culinary Horror.” Most scenes are headlined by a gypsy curse after mid-drive fellatio leads to elderly roadkill, but then, as a means of lifting once-obese lawyer Billy Halleck’s weight loss jinx, a strawberry pie fed the man’s blood spells death for whoever eats a slice. The pie opens its slit crust like a mouth to drink Billy’s dripping natural juices. It’s quite the scene, and quite the disturbing “Culinary Horror” glimpse as Billy’s salvation pie laps up blood with the thirst of a vampire. Yummy yummy!
Surprised it wasn’t a traditional blood pie to drive the comparison home, but strawberries are red and more tantalizing I reckon. Makes sense.
Thankskilling (2008): Turkie’s Revenge
While Christmas and Halloween get all the holiday horror love, Thanksgiving has only a few genre titles to its credit. Luckily, one of them is a low-budget creature slasher featuring a zinger-slinging turkey who murders. Jordan Downey’s Thankskilling opens at the first Thanksgiving celebration, where a topless pilgrim is killed by a talking turkey who’s wielding a hatched-lookin’ weapon. From here it’s food-related puns, gory slasher deaths, and culinary horror slathered in either blood or cranberry sauce. In the realm of foods fighting back, this gobbler won’t be plucked, stuffed and roasted like his weaker brethren.
Maybe I’m cheating here a bit because the villain is a bird and not yet served hot n’ ready, but Turkie beats hungry settlers to the punch. “Culinary Horror” sure involves ingredients not wanting to be eaten in my eyes.
Editorials
Larry Cohen’s ‘It’s Alive’ Still Towers Over a 2009 Remake That Maybe Should’ve Stayed Unborn
When I write about remakes, I often bring up the word “justification.” What’s the impetus for the remake’s existence? Reinventing icons for a new generation, or benefiting from a few decades’ worth of special effects advancements? Often, there’s a reason that you can acknowledge and say, “Alright, I see what you’re going for.” That holds in Josef Rusnak’s It’s Alive, which tries to reinvent Larry Cohen’s mutant baby B-movie of the same name in what I consider the worst possible way.
I didn’t say it had to be a GOOD reason.
I’ll start with Cohen’s own reaction to Rusnak’s 2009 update: “It’s a terrible picture. It’s just beyond awful … I would advise anybody who likes my film to cross the street and avoid seeing the new enchilada.” A blunt take, but I agree. Rusnak justifies his remake by diverting drastically from Cohen’s exploitation-y flick about a newborn monster killinPreview (opens in a new tab)g Los Angeles residents, but it’s such a bafflingly weak reimagining. Cohen remains faithful to tenets of creature features while tugging at our hearts with commentaries about parents caught between morality and adoration, whereas Rusnak asks, “What if we punished a mother for trying to have an abortion?”
As Cohen says, cross the damn street.
The Approach
It’s Alive (2009) is one of those women-focused horror projects that make you scoff, derogatorily, “This was written and directed by dudes, wasn’t it?” Cohen’s original screenplay isn’t airtight, yet it does well to respect Sharon Farrell‘s “shaken mother of a monster,” Lenore Davis. Paul Sopocy and James Portolese, on the other hand, pen a screenplay that reductively focuses on Lenore protecting her bitey offspring, with a bent-out-of-shape abortion subplot thrown in. That’s not to say Cohen’s Lenore doesn’t display the same protective maternal instincts, but Rusnak plays in a sandbox of lame-duck tropes, dooming Lenore for the supposed sin of a mother’s love.
Teenage party-girl turned actress Bijou Phillips stars as Lenore Harker, a New Mexico college student who quits to live with her architect boyfriend, Frank (James Murray), and raise their incoming baby. She’s ditching pizza nights and girl talk with bestie Marnie (Ty Glaser), moving into the Albuquerque woods, where Frank has a secluded homestead with brother Chris (Raphaël Coleman), who is wheelchair dependent. Lenore goes in for a pregnancy checkup, where she learns her unborn child has doubled in size, requiring a cesarean section birth. So the surgical team opens her up and extracts “Daniel,” only to be murdered by the newborn, found resting on Lenore’s stomach, taking a post-slaughter rest.
The immediate deviation is how Daniel is found nuzzling Lenore in the hospital, and doesn’t look “freakish” at first glance. Daniel comes home with Lenore and Frank, setting up the happy lil’ family dynamic. It’s no longer a conspiratorial hunt-and-hide scenario; the “home sweet hell” take on Cohen’s original. Which, frustratingly, dissolves the core suspense that Cohen achieves. For Daniel to kill, victims have to come knocking on Lenore’s door, which becomes a repetitive cycle of visitors and hidden bodies that remove any excitement and surprises.
Does It Work?
Rusnak earns points for trying something new. Remakes have historically been less willing to put unique spins on existing stories (see: Cabin Fever). But there’s also a question of retaining the essence of the source material. Why remake a movie if you’re going to spin so far from the original that you don’t even need to use the title? It’s the Child’s Play of it all. If you wanted to make a killer AI toy movie, why use the Child’s Play legacy to do so (outside of market familiarity)?
It’s Alive doesn’t fully abandon Cohen’s ideas, but it does feel thinner than expected. There have been plenty of killer baby movies since It’s Alive—Cohen hardly has the concept trademarked. What’s fun about Cohen’s It’s Alive is how Frank chases his mutant kin around Los Angeles, eventually into the sewer system, culminating in the Los Angeles (drained) river. Rusnak directs what’s essentially a one-location thriller that minimizes the scope to meet not only its lower budget, but lesser ambitions. Where Cohen pushes farther, Rusnak pulls back, losing the idiosyncratic quirks of Cohen’s superior It’s Alive.
There’s nothing wrong with a good chamber piece, but the psychological torments Sopocy and Portolese opt for are soft as fresh-out-the-bag marshmallows. So much of the film hinges on Lenore’s cover-up tactics when she realizes her wee one is a maneater, which becomes one-note in the process. Frank wanders around, ignoring red flags, and Chris is removed from the picture for a small bit to keep the massacre going. In both films, Lenore has trouble turning against her child—but Cohen is much more thoughtful about Lenore’s state through it all. Rusnak’s direction is short-sighted, rudimentary, and flat, as it has nothing interesting to say about the fears of parenthood that drive Phillips’ Lenore to nurture the vengeful child she once wanted to terminate.
The Result
In It’s Alive (1974), Cohen makes a point of referencing Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, as John P. Ryan’s Frank recalls having the epiphany that Dr. Frankenstein is the villain, not his creation. It’s what drives Cohen’s screenplay, as we learn how the doctors tried to kill the original baby, since its deformities made it look like a melon-headed, fang-toothed freakshow. There’s none of that in Rusnak’s remake, which diminishes the creature’s origins and motives to anger. It’s an uninteresting modification because the point of Cohen’s picture is to question what makes a monster, and how its creators process their hand in the chaos. Rusnak’s not interested in such explorations, except when the screenplay shoehorns what foolishly appears as an anti-abortion undertone when we learn about Lenore’s sketchy internet baby-be-gone pills.
Even worse, the technical merits of Rusnak’s It’s Alive are unfortunate. Credit to the original’s cast, because Ryan and Farrell bring dramatic acting chops that accentuate their film’s tragedy; a legitimate heartbreaker. None of Rusnak’s cast are hitting on such a high caliber of talent, especially since there’s nothing meaty about Sopocy and Portolese’s character designs. It’s very Horror 101: ignore the obvious, act gobsmacked when the obvious happens, and bring it home. Phillips has been better in films like Bully and Hostel: Part II (maybe even The Wizard of Gore), while Murray is your average 2000s straight-to-video throwaway boyfriend. The rest of the supporting cast, sadly, barely even register.
There’s a charm to Cohen’s monster SFX, whipped up by Rick Baker—but also an opportunity. Cohen decided to use this three-mirror-blur vision, seeing through the baby’s eyes to show the beast as little as possible. If Rusnak wanted to make a stronger impact, he could have gone all-in on Daniel’s appearance to say, “Hey, at least we developed a rad creature!” But, alas, Rusnak might show even less of Daniel. When he does appear in the basement, or leap out of a trash can in the film’s climactic finale, it’s CG augmentation that distorts a puppet reportedly crafted by SFX superstar Tony Gardner. Cohen accomplishes infinitely more by putting his then-girlfriend Elaine Parkyn in a full-head monster mask, a pair of pointed gloves, and a partial body suit that benefit from optical tricks—because practical always wins.
The Lesson
It’s not hard to wonder why Millennium Films lost faith in Rusnak’s It’s Alive and opted for no theatrical release. In a time when horror remakes were all the rage, Millennium buried It’s Alive so deep that it’s not even watchable or rentable on streaming (ain’t even worth Tubi). No hyperbole, this remake stinks with the stinkiest of ’em. It’s slight on innovation, filled with awful genre generics, and is a slap in the face to what Cohen accomplished. There’s something so fresh about a killer baby flick that focuses on the suit-and-tie-wearing father, who is forced to challenge the stern, macho gender roles of the 70s, and something so disappointing about a 2000s horror movie that falls right back into outdated mindsets.
So what did we learn?
- Yes, for the hundredth time, some of those 2000s horror remakes are as bad as the haters made them all out to be.
- Ex-David Lee Roth, Ozzy Osbourne, and Alice Cooper bassist Todd Jensen plays Lenore’s doctor for some reason (which I wouldn’t have known without the internet).
- You can appreciate a remake for trying something different, but you can also detest a remake for how poorly it does something different.
- Why does Daniel look like a baby shark (doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo)?
Watching both It’s Alive flicks back-to-back gave me whiplash. When John P. Ryan (as Frank) confronts his cowering, terrified child-monster in the bowels of Los Angeles, I nearly shed a tear. That whole scene really, as Ryan realizes he’s become the Dr. Frankenstein of sorts, and his miserable, deformed boy craves his father’s affection in a time of need. Then you have Rusnak’s film, which brutally kills the pro-abortion character, insinuates Lenore is being punished for trying to abort Daniel early in the pregnancy, and deserves to die with her demon spawn engulfed by the worst CG flames this side of Birdemic: Shock and Terror. I just … kudos to Cohen for richly developing a sci-fi curio with a tremendous sense of emotional understanding, and nothing but thumbs down for Rusnak’s remake, which comes off as plenty boneheaded and hella halfhearted in the process.
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