Editorials
‘After Midnight’ – An Underseen ’80s Horror Anthology
I first discovered After Midnight (1989) during my freshman year of college. There at I Luv Video was this VHS tape that gave me nostalgia for a movie I actually hadn’t seen yet. The woman on the cover, a character played by Jillian McWhirter, was quite literally trapped in time, and the tagline beneath her fiery fate read: “Anything Can Happen in the Dark.” As it turned out, my little case of memory distortion was rather fitting; this movie starts off with someone having a vague recollection, albeit of a terrible event.
Growing up I had passed by After Midnight many times at my local video shop, but it wasn’t until some years later that I gave it a watch. And after witnessing the nightmarish fate of those college students enrolled in The Psychology of Fear, I was hooked. Jim and Ken Wheat’s movie — their horror debut as directors and producers after penning Silent Scream, A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, and The Fly II — has since become a favorite. You could even say my enthusiasm for anthologies today was influenced by After Midnight.
In hindsight, the VHS synopsis for After Midnight didn’t exactly advertise itself as an anthology; the only indication was the bit of “sharing stories” on the tape’s back cover. Nevertheless, I was pleasantly surprised to find another movie like Creepshow, Tales from the Darkside: The Movie, and Tales from the Hood. And it is only after the somewhat involved setup does this movie reveal itself to be an anthology. The Wheat Brothers were inspired by 1945’s Dead of Night, another horror portmanteau where the substories happen later than sooner, and the storytellers aren’t your usual Creep or Crypt Keeper types. Much like another anthology I enjoy, Campfire Tales, the narrators here are normal people. Some less so than others, but that fact is revealed later on.
Pictured: Professor Derek (Ramy Zada) aims a gun at his students.
After Midnight begins ordinarily enough. At first there is nothing at all strange about a pair of friends heading for their first class of the new semester. McWhirter, who would go on to appear in other horror movies like Servants of Twilight and The Dentist 2, plays the ostensible protagonist Allison, whose nagging apprehension is brushed off by best friend Cheryl (Pamela Adlon, King of the Hill). The class looks be a breeze because the intense professor, Edward Derek (Ramy Zada, Two Evil Eyes), is not interested in traditional teaching methods. No, he prefers hands-on learning, which he illustrates with a live demonstration of his statement “to understand fear you have to experience fear.” This entails pointing a loaded gun at a meathead named Russ (Ed Monaghan), then turning it on himself. Up until the reveal, no one realized Derek’s stunt was fake until the prof miraculously recovered from his point-blank head wound. The fake brain splatter all over the classroom walls amuses most everyone else in attendance, but Russ’ public humiliation has consequences; the administration puts an immediate end to Derek’s unorthodox lectures.
For those anxious to get on with the anthology aspect, After Midnight soon ditches the classroom setting and moves into more intimate quarters. Derek offers an extracurricular option for his more intrepid students, including Allison and Cheryl. It’s at the professor’s house where the substories finally come out to play. Three, to be exact. In the meantime, the movie circles back to its ominous wraparound whenever a new narrator is required, or whenever needing to update us on Russ’ revenge plot currently underway.
The framing story’s vintage look is intentional and gives it a sort of timeless quality. Even the standalone segments, with the exception of the middle one, have an everlasting appeal to them. Cinematographer Phedon Papamichael, who was early into his now-illustrious career, had previously worked with Katt Shea on Dance with the Dead and Stripped to Kill II: Live Girls. Here Papamichael is instrumental in the moody and rich aesthetic of After Midnight.
Pictured: Joan (Nadine Van der Velde) is about to lose her head in the segment “The Old Dark House”.
Allison has been acting peculiar from the get-go, and that uneasiness only worsens once she’s inside Professor Derek’s home. As that tension continues to brew, the host kicks off a round of storytelling that stormy evening. “Ghost stories?” a student asks. Derek quickly corrects him and says the stories have to be true. For something to be frightening, he continues, it has to be believable. This is where After Midnight stands apart from other anthologies; the substories are grounded rather than fantastical and uncanny.
Professor Derek kicks things off with “The Old Dark House,” a Gothic offering that could have easily hailed from the vaults of EC Comics. A couple’s celebratory dinner leads to a scenic drive, then a bit of breaking-and-entering as their car stalls on a creepy and deserted road. As Kevin (Marc McClure, Back to the Future) and Joan (Nadine Van der Velde, Critters) look for a phone in what ends up being an infamous and not-so-empty murder house, the husband’s mind starts to play tricks on him. When it seems as if everything here falls in place much too conveniently, the denouement clarifies with macabre effect.
Just in time for the second self-contained segment, the power goes out in Derek’s house. A sudden need for candles only adds to the mystique of the night and elevates the subsequent stories. One random student then goes on to share a yarn he heard from his sister: “A Night on the Town.” Four teenagers, played by Penelope Sudrow (A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors), Judie Aronson (Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter), Tracy Wells (Mr. Belvedere) and Monique Salcido, become lost and stranded in a run-down area after failing to get into a nightclub. What follows is a straightforward yet nevertheless exciting battle of survival. Character actor Luis Contreras menaces the girls in this empty and derelict part of the city — current Los Angelenos would have a hard time recognizing what used to be the warehouse district — before his trained attack dogs pick up the slack. This second story is the most contemporary of the lot, and it’s not the least terrifying, but it does pack in the semi-slasher thrills.
Pictured: The girls of “A Night on the Town” take Luis Contreras for a ride.
The movie edges closer to its climactic finale as Cheryl reveals a stalker-themed piece called “All Night Operator.” And while she entertains Professor Derek and the others, Russ constructs his payback strategy down below in the basement.
The third and final tale stars Marg Helgenberger of CSI fame as a vestige of a once-thriving business. This segment pits an already injured phone operator against a madman played by Alan Rosenberg (Helgenberger’s real-life husband at the time). The increasingly disturbed caller eventually pays the messenger a visit after dealing with the object of his sick affection (Jordana Capra). Despite the modern timestamp of “All Night Operator,” one featuring a depiction of a soon-to-be obsolete job, this suspenseful closing story is a well-crafted cat-and-mouser that never comes across as too dated. The ending shot alone is a perfect visual garnish that calls back to old Hollywood thrillers.
Allison no longer struggles to remember her own story in the movie’s lengthy epilogue. Her dreadful bout of déjà-rêvé is let loose as Russ gives Derek a taste of his own medicine. However, the professor is more than willing to dole out real fear-inducing horror. From there After Midnight culminates in a display of deus ex machina that was hackneyed even back then, however, as stated before, the directors were motivated by Dead of Night. Not only in assembly but also execution.
After Midnight isn’t held in the same regard as other anthologies, and it’s not particularly scary, but this underseen movie is rich in charm and atmosphere. From my view, it showed up at the right time of my life and opened the door to even more segmented horror. And for that I’m willing to look past its lack of scares and appreciate its many other redeeming traits.
After Midnight is now available on Blu-ray from Shout! Factory and on streaming services such as Tubi.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
Pictured: Marg Helgenberger in “All Night Operator”.
Horror was thriving so well in the 1980s that movies like Pen Densham’s The Kiss (1988) would understandably get lost in the shuffle, only to then gain their fans later on in life. Even still, this one Canadian-American curio has had a more challenging time than others, as far as contemporary reevaluations go, which is very likely due to the movie’s limited availability—at least as of this write-up.
However, the scarceness of The Kiss, while a bit annoying, makes it like catnip for ‘80s horror completists everywhere. Hopefully, a lot of them will walk away satisfied after watching this hidden gem.
Even though The Kiss was intended as the first of several horror collaborations between Astral Pictures and TriStar, as well as the first feature produced by Densham, Richard B. Lewis and John Watson’s Trilogy Entertainment Group, it ended up being the only one produced from that former union. Once the movie was released, TriStar’s distribution jitters—they opted for a regional rollout—did the $6-million flick no favors. TriStar’s cold feet toward horror releases have been well noted, but The Kiss still did a tad better than Night of the Creeps (1986), another genre outing that flopped due to its regional opening.
Shot in Montreal, but set in Albany, New York, The Kiss—which was still called The Host just a few months before its October premiere—concerns an average middle-class family and their forthcoming situation. The uncanny problem in store for them was, in fact, set in motion some years earlier. As that hot and dusty flashback to the Belgian Congo shows, a familial curse was set upon the two Dunbar sisters well before Meredith Salenger’s teenage character was born.
Meredith Salenger, Nicholas Kilbertus and Mimi Kuzyk in The Kiss
The Kiss, which was based on a story by co-writer Stephen Volk (Ghostwatch) and penned by both Volk and Tom Ropelewski, has the outward appearance of The Stepfather (1987). This movie, though, is anything but a gender-flipped retread of that classic domestic disturber. For starters, The Kiss is far less grounded in reality—that much is clear from its unsettling opening scene. There, a trusting girl (Priscilla Mouzakiotis) is the victim of her own deceptive aunt (Céline Lomez); the movie’s titular act, and the story’s first shock, becomes the means of transferring an ancient evil from one host to another.
In the present day, Salenger’s role of Amy Halloran, a religious schoolgirl, is dealt a harsh blow in life once her mother, Hilary Halloran née Dunbar (Pamela Collyer), suddenly dies in a freak accident. But rather than a complete stranger sweeping the Halloran widower (Nicholas Kilbertus) off his feet some months later, Joanna Pacula’s character is that chosen temptress. Here, Pacula plays the grown-up version of the afflicted girl last seen in the movie’s opener. Since Amy’s mother is insistent about there being no reunion between estranged sisters, and she even contemplates buying a gun shortly before her tragic demise, it’s presumable that Aunt Felice poses a threat to her family.
The Kiss isn’t a movie ever too concerned about its own predictability. The audience is indeed often one step ahead of the story here, but also keep in mind how every one of those steps is loud. Take, for instance, the death of Amy’s mother; the Halloran matriarch goes out in garish, gruesome fashion, as a supernaturally commandeered truck sends Collyer’s character through a store window first, then leaves her one leg short. The directorial enthusiasm truly comes out in horrific moments such as these.
The Kiss is always sure to revel in its characters’ ills and misfortunes. So if the plot doesn’t impress, then its lurid parts should. Amy’s mother’s exit scene was proof of an eager, first-time horror director proving his worth. Then, bestie Heather (Sabrina Boudot) survives to tell the tale of a bizarre escalator mishap that, despite showing relatively less gore, spikes viewers’ empathy meter. The wilder bits of this movie, however, commence with that inevitable hookup between Felice and Amy’s bewitched father; their kitchen coitus is paralleled by Amy’s feverish classroom terror. The outcome there is a disquieting cross-cut of sex magic and a young woman’s menstrual onset plus hallucinations.
Sabrina Boudot in The Kiss
From foam appliances to bladders, that parade of special effects in The Kiss casts its own spell on the audience. Felice’s familiar, a visibly malevolent cat, was realized here with several models, some more articulate than others. Admittedly, the demon cat’s not as convincing as most of the effects here, but accepting that artifice, as opposed to fighting it, will make the whole experience way more enjoyable. As for the makeup used to manifest Felice’s inner villainy, it is more minimal and subtle than one might like; yet the work done to turn Pacula into an antithesis of herself is nonetheless compelling.
The otherworldly perils and dreadful goings-on wouldn’t work half as well as they do in The Kiss without the story’s contrast effect. Finding frights in picturesque, extremely ordinary settings was something that took off in the ‘80s, thanks to that sweeping shift to locales like the suburbs. And Amy’s home, a replica of a real Montreal suburban house, is the ideal battleground for any proper good-versus-evil story. It’s also prime real estate for this movie’s satanic panic-inspired horrors.
Because of their ostensibly similar plots, The Kiss has been compared to The Exorcist (1973). Except in Densham’s movie, the sinister, non-Christian entity targeting a teen girl lies within something less apparent and, perhaps, more devastating upon its exposure. To an outsider, Pacula’s Aunt Felice is too beautiful and unobjectionable to ever suspect of being a monster. More suspicious is how quickly she rips into the fabric of the Halloran home. Felice’s mere presence upsets the “texture of family life,” according to the director.
The demon cat in The Kiss
Taking out Amy’s mother and best friend, and distracting her father, would suggest The Kiss is playing by a different set of rules. It is initially leaving its adolescent target unsupported in a rather grim scenario. In contrast, though, this story offers up a surrogate parent who does her best to fill in the holes of Amy’s eroding home life. Mimi Kuzyk does good work as that family friend and doctor, Brenda, who guides the lost child without also steering her in any one direction; she is naturally skeptical of Amy’s accusations until it’s almost too late to do anything about them. So although The Kiss does an admirable job of undoing the main character’s support system, it never leaves her without a lifeline. This dark movie, in spite of everything that’s transpired, doesn’t deprive itself of light and hope.
The Kiss is a potent mélange of familiar ideas. If not for the director’s surprise flair for horror, though, the movie would have been less effective. What a shame that Pen Densham didn’t continue with the genre. As for Joanna Pacula, she is, too, owed credit as the wicked vixen opposite Meredith Salenger’s pitiable Amy; she never fails to be unsettling in her role. Pacula makes Aunt Felice a sexy yet intimidating character.
For horror that steadily doles out madness and menace, while also delivering a flashy and ghastly conclusion, The Kiss is certain to please. Yes, it’s cheesy all the way, but most favorably, everyone involved plays everything straight. That kind of commitment goes a long way with this movie.
The Kiss
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