Editorials
‘The Mortuary Collection’ and the Enduring Appeal of Horror Anthologies
The horror anthology is a lot older than most people realize. Even during the silent era, we had films like Richard Oswald‘s 1919 Unheimliche Geschichten, and even before then, it can be argued that writers and storytellers gathering to share dark tales with their peers was something of a precursor to the modern anthology. This compelling format may have been embraced by comics and television before it was firmly established as a popular subgenre in film, but nowadays I think it’s safe to say that these movies contain some of our most treasured scary stories.
That’s why I’d like to take a moment to explore what it is about these creepy collections that keep us coming back for more bite-sized scares.
Of course, not everyone loves these movies, as anthologies have been commonly criticized for being uneven experiences, which I think can be a valid complaint when dealing with loosely connected yarns stitched together into a larger framework. Making all these pieces fit together into a comprehensive picture is no easy task, and it’s even harder when so many of these movies appear to be just a cheap way of combining pre-existing short films into a haphazard feature-length production. I’m not knocking on any particular movie here, as there are several great anthologies which began as compilations of unrelated shorts, but I think most folks can agree that these flicks are usually better when planned from the get-go.
This is one of the reasons why I was pleasantly surprised by Ryan Spindell‘s The Mortuary Collection, a rare anthology that not only feels consistent, but also boasts wildly varied and entertaining stories. It may not be a perfect film, with some segments working better than others, but it reminded me of what makes anthologies so compelling in the first place, commenting on the moral and social implications of scary stories and the way we share them.
Sure, a huge part of the film’s success can be attributed to Clancy Brown and Caitlin Custer‘s highly entertaining back-and-forth as the mysterious Mortician and his potential protégé, but there’s a lot more to it than that. What really makes the film stand out is how it understands that anthologies are at their best when each segment builds to something greater, with the stories working together towards a common thematic goal while still offering bite-sized thrills.

Every corpse has a story, but together they make one hell of an entertaining movie!
In Spindell’s case, a definitive vision manages to keep things consistently entertaining as the movie’s stories become larger and more bizarre. The final act even incorporates the director’s previous short film, The Babysitter Murders, into the climax without missing a beat. While the short was produced way back in 2015, it blends naturally into a story that was tailor-made to accommodate it, making it feel like a natural part of the Collection.
Having a single director helm all of the segments may have helped with this consistency, but films like Holidays, Tales of Halloween and even Bloody-Disgusting’s own V/H/S franchise prove that a project can boast several uniquely creative visions and still work as a coherent film. What really matters is that these segmented frights are planned in advance, uniting different kinds of scary stories with a common goal.
Of course, there’s a lot more to a good anthology than just consistency, as movies can still be consistently bad. But even then, the episodic nature of these films can actually help flawed narratives by making them more easily digestible due to their bite-sized approach to storytelling. It’s easy to ignore a bad segment or two in favor of a generally fun experience, especially if there’s a satisfying wraparound uniting the tales.
It’s not exactly necessary, but I’d argue that the wraparound story is another important element that can make or break an anthology flick. If the connective tissue between these stories isn’t strong enough, the whole thing runs the risk of falling apart and feeling like an un-curated film festival lineup instead of a coherent experience. That’s why I think the best wraparounds work as a framing device to contextualize their collection (much like the titular Books of Blood setup in Clive Barker‘s infamous short stories and its adaptations) while also serving as one final tale for the road.

Still one of the best framing devices in fiction.
Again, this is something that The Mortuary Collection does beautifully, with its wraparound at the funerary home being just as entertaining as the stories told by Clancy Brown’s jaded mortician. Memorable recurring characters like John Carpenter’s maniacal Coroner in Body Bags or Brown’s Tall-Man-inspired Mr. Dark can also go a long way when trying to leave a lasting impression with these segments, as we all know that a scary story is only as good as the storyteller.
At the end of the day, there’s no guaranteed formula for success in any genre, and anthologies still follow the fundamental rules of filmmaking. However, looking back on classics like Trick ‘r Treat and Creepshow, certain patterns show up that suggest we enjoy these movies more when they feature wildly varied narratives tied together with consistent aesthetics and tones. This why I think The Mortuary Collection is one of the best anthologies we’ve seen in a while now, as the film is bursting with creativity but still feels like a singular entity.
Stephen King once likened short stories to a quick kiss in the dark from a stranger, as opposed to the complete romantic evening you might get from a novel. By that logic, horror anthologies are a flirtatious endeavor combining the allure of quick thrills with the familiar comforts of a larger story structure. While these tales can be enjoyed on their own, the recurring themes and imagery can make for a more gratifying experience when merged into something greater, and that may be one reason why we love these movies so much.
Nevertheless, I’d argue that there’s an even simpler explanation for our obsession with anthologies. At the end of the day, I believe we like the idea of a smorgasbord of several mini-horror movies offered up for the price of a single admission ticket. Even if you don’t enjoy everything, it’s likely that you’ll appreciate at least some of what was brought to the table, and that makes the whole thing worthwhile.
Editorials
Taking a Closer Look at the ‘Christmas Carol’ Ghosts of Ti West’s ‘Ebenezer’
The trailer for Ti West’s upcoming adaptation of A Christmas Carol raised a lot of eyebrows when it dropped earlier this week. While plenty of folks initially dismissed Ebenezer as a derivative project meant to cash in on the recent wave of unnecessary prequels that expand the backstory of beloved characters (such as 2023’s Wonka), Charles Dickens’ original novel already made a point of exploring Ebenezer Scrooge’s origins in detail – meaning that this new film is likely just a particularly faithful adaptation of the source material under a different name.
Couple that with the fact that the movie is being helmed by a genuine horror auteur and I think it’s safe to say that the latest iteration of the first modern ghost story is in good hands.
That being said, one detail that immediately jumped out at me during the brief teaser (other than a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it nod to Johnny Depp’s iconic bedroom death scene from the original A Nightmare on Elm Street) is the fact that many of Ebenezer’s ghosts appear to have been directly lifted from the iconic John Leech illustrations that accompanied the first edition of Dickens’ novel.
Here are a couple of stills from the trailer compared to the original artwork:

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come in ‘Ebenezer’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’

The Phantoms in ‘A Christmas Carol’ and ‘Ebenezer’

Marley’s Ghost in ‘Ebenezer’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’
Mainly working with old-school wood and steel engravings that would later be transferred to print, Leech was instrumental in crafting the iconic look of history’s most influential phantoms – especially since Dickens is said to have been deeply involved with the creation of these so-called “comic illustrations.”
And since the novel is commonly said to have popularized spiritualism in Victorian England, much of the ghostly iconography that we still see in genre media to this very day (including some of Ti West’s previous films) can be traced back to the author’s partnership with Leech.
Ebenezer won’t be the first A Christmas Carol adaptation to borrow heavily from these designs, but I can appreciate how Ti West is incorporating an important part of horror history into his latest film.
Ebenezer will be available in theaters starting November 13.

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