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“Creepshow” Season 4 Review – A Fun Halloween Binge-Watch That Embraces the Horror-Comedy

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Creepshow’s scrappy brand of buoyant and bloody B-horror anthology storytelling covers a wide range that fluctuates between pulpy and plodding.

Anthology series, horror or otherwise, have never been more popular and yet Creepshow has always stood out as more than just a standard horror anthology. Creepshow aims to frighten and fascinate like other anthology horror. However, it models itself off of the pulpy horror “comix” of the ‘60s and ‘70s that are just as interested in camp and B-movie bliss. This horror subgenre isn’t for everyone, but Creepshow has done an excellent job at capturing the old-fashioned energy of the Creepshow feature films and cautionary comics from a simpler time. Shudder’s Creepshow has been going strong for three seasons, even with some animated installments along the way, and its new fourth season is the perfect way to celebrate this holiday season.

Creepshow continues to indulge in retro sensibilities and aesthetics while it effectively tackles modern horror stories. At the same time, Creepshow doesn’t date itself by telling any cautionary tales that are too of the times, but it also unpacks eternal ideas like legacy, success, and grief, all with a pulpy B-horror sheen that’s rich in stylized camp and perfected genre tropes. Creepshow’s fourth season tackles a wide range of stories between standard monster attacks, cautionary shortcuts to success, and even a playful ode to a lost George A. Romero magnum opus (that finds a way to reanimate the horror auteur). Creepshow also still finds time to celebrate sillier stories like a haunted camera or a quirky take on Little Riding Red Hood

This Greg Nicotero-directed Romero tribute as well as a highly subversive monster home invasion tale by Jamie Flanagan, “20 Minutes with Cassandra,” are the season’s strongest entries. Nicotero’s story is a passionate love letter to one of the grandfathers of modern horror, but it doesn’t reach the same heights as Creepshow’s past tributes to established horror classics like “Public Television of the Dead,” “Night of the Living Late Show,” or “A Dead Girl Named Sue.” It’s the weakest of these stylized homages.

Alternatively, Flanagan’s story isn’t wholly successful, but it’s a smart change of pace that makes use of several regular Flanagan players and actually feels more like an episode of The Midnight Club than it does a Creepshow story. It’s ultimately less about the victims, but instead a look at a morally-conflicted monster who’s going through the motions and aimlessly killing even when he doesn’t know why. It’s a really unique subversion of a standard monster story through the humanization of something inhuman and reveals that they’re actually the one who’s most conflicted and lost, despite their terrifying look and immense killing power. Some things are even scarier than monsters.

Creepshow’s episodes largely understand the assignment and showcase unique visual styles where canted angles, exaggerated giallo lighting, and unique composition reigns supreme and feels reminiscent of comic book panels. Most episodes try to do something different so that they look special and unlike anything that you’d see in American Horror Stories or Black Mirror. Several Creepshow episodes succeed more through their evergreen themes rather than the specific subject matter. There are certainly shades of American Psycho and Serial Mom in this style of pitch black comedy where disrespected social mores are a bigger problem than gratuitous murder. That’s the type of disaffected humor that’s often in play in episodes like “Parent Death Trap,” “Meet the Belaskos,” and “The Hat.”

Many Creepshow installments from this season go for the laugh instead of the scare, which isn’t new to the franchise, but still may polarize the audience’s reception depending on their tolerance for this style of comedy. There’s still a lot of fun to be had with these weird genre experiments that explore the pain of living and how we all unintentionally manifest our own monsters in different ways.

Creepshow Season 4 trailer

Even the episodes that don’t necessarily connect on a storytelling level are filled with visual cues that should delight horror fans. There are so many grandiose splash panels that make inspired use of shadows and limited gore to cast evocative images that feel like they’re ripped from right out of an issue of EC Comics. Creepshow’s effects work is still exceptional and punches way above its weight with gigantic rat monsters, Biblical vampires, aliens, and werewolves. The hermit crab-esque brain parasite from “The Hat” is a particular highlight that’s simple, but effective and gross.

Creepshow’s fourth season is a lot of fun and makes for a great Halloween binge. However, four seasons in, Creepshow exhibits some growing pains that do slightly hold it back. None of these episodes are based on any existing stories this time, which isn’t a prerequisite for success, but still worthy of noting. This season is also missing some of the heavy-hitter talent from Creepshow’s previous three years. Creepshow does its best with talent like Jamie Flanagan and the always-reliable Greg Nicotero, but it’s really missing the likes of Joe Lynch and Rob Schrab on the director’s side, and stronger writers like Heather Anne Campbell on the writer’s side. The same is true for the talent that’s in front of the camera and this season lacks the star power of past years. There’s still a lot of fun stuff going on in these episodes, but the new talent indicates just how important it is to have a distinct directorial vision with Creepshow. The episodes that don’t embrace the comic book camp definitely stand out as unsuccessful outliers.

Creepshow is still one of horror’s best sources of guts, gore, and great practical effects. The double-episode structure still maximizes the series’ storytelling potential and replicates the pulp comic sensation. This new batch of episodes features some of the best and worst of what Creepshow can do. 

Creepshow Season 4 is now available to stream on Shudder, with weekly releases on AMC.

3 skulls out of 5

‘Creepshow’ Season 4

Daniel Kurland is a freelance writer, comedian, and critic, whose work can be read on Splitsider, Bloody Disgusting, Den of Geek, ScreenRant, and across the Internet. Daniel knows that "Psycho II" is better than the original and that the last season of "The X-Files" doesn't deserve the bile that it conjures. If you want a drink thrown in your face, talk to him about "Silent Night, Deadly Night Part II," but he'll always happily talk about the "Puppet Master" franchise. The owls are not what they seem.

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‘The King Tide’: An Island Town Rots with Moral Decay in Canadian Folk Horror Fable [Review]

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Isla (Alix West Lefler) holds up a hand covered in bees

The opening scenes of director Christian Sparkes The King Tide set an ominous tone: a powerful storm takes down the power lines of a small island town as a pregnant woman loses her child while her dementia-suffering mother sits nearby. In the morning, as the town takes stock of the damage and the power is restored, a surprising discovery is found in an overturned boat in the harbour: a baby girl…with the ability to heal.

Writers Albert Shin and William Woods, working from a story by Kevin Coughlin and Ryan Grassby, treat the story as something of a morality tale mixed with a fable. Following the cold open, the action jumps ahead 10 years at a point when the unnamed island (the film was shot in Newfoundland, Canada) is thriving. The fishing is bountiful, the islanders are self-sufficient and have cut ties with the mainland, and most everyone is happy.

As characters are prone to saying, it’s all thanks to Isla (Alix West Lefler), the miracle baby who has grown up worshipped by the islanders. While Mayor Bobby Bentham (Clayne Crawford) and his wife Grace (Lara Jean Chorostecki) endeavor to raise Isla like any other little girl, the reality is that the island’s entire ecosystem revolves around her miraculous powers. It is only because of Isla that they survive; every aspect of their lives – from medicine to food – relies on her.

Each day the citizens line up for their allotted time with the young girl – be it to stave off breast cancer, like Charlotte (Kathryn Greenwood), or recover from another night of heavy drinking like former doctor, Beau (Aden Young). There’s even a predetermined schedule for when she will go out on the boats and use her power to lure fish into the nets.

Bobby (Clayne Crawford) watches adopted daughter Isla (Alix West Lefler) write in candlelight

One fateful day, Bobby succumbs to peer pressure and alters Isla’s schedule at the last minute to accompany cod fishermen Marlon (Michael Greyeyes) and Dillon (Ryan McDonald). A childish game with fatal consequences is played, but with Isla indisposed, a young boy, who would have otherwise been fine, dies. And while the rest of the community grieves, it is Isla who is completely shaken and, unexpectedly, loses her powers.

Suddenly the entire balance of the island is thrown off. Folks like Grace’s mother, Faye (Frances Fisher), who relied on Isla to keep her dementia at bay, suddenly reckon with mortality, while the food security of the town is called into question. Faye’s late-night “support group” meetings take on an urgent and secretive tone and the townspeople claim ownership of Isla’s time despite Bobby and Beau’s protests that she needs rest to recover from her trauma.

Like the best thrillers, the politics and personalities within the community come into play as morals are compromised and the good of individuals vs the collective is played out in increasingly desperate situations. The King Tide excels because it is interested in exploring the competing motivations of the townspeople, while also resolutely refusing to paint anyone as inherently good or bad. These are desperate people, determined to remain independent and free from outside interference, while protecting their trapped-in-amber way of life.

Isla (Alix West Lefler) sits with her back to the camera in a doorway

These developments work because there’s a humanity to the characters and The King Tide wisely relies heavily on its deep bench castoff character actors to drive the conflict. Crawford is the de facto protagonist of the ensemble and he’s also the most straightforward character: Bobby is a good man and a loving father, but he’s no white knight. At several points in the film, his willingness to acquiesce to the demands of the community and retain his power causes events to spiral further out of control.

Even more fascinating are Grace and Faye, two commanding women whose capacity for maternal love is matched – or eclipsed – by their own self-interests. A mid-film discovery about Isla’s power reframes Grace’s priorities, ultimately pitting her against her husband. As a result, Grace is incredibly compelling and frustrating (in a good way) and Chorostecki, who has done great genre work on both Hannibal to Chucky, plays the moral ambiguity exactly right. Grace is a fascinating and flawed human character in a film filled with them.

The same goes for Fisher, who deftly balances Faye’s grandmotherly love for Isla with the needs of the community and, by extension, her own health demands. In the hands of a lesser performer, it would be easy to hate Faye for her actions, but Fisher’s performance perfectly captures the fierce determination and fear that drives the island’s matriarch.

Finally, there’s Aden Young, The King Tide’s secret weapon. The ten-year jump reveals that Beau has undergone the most significant transformation: while everyone else has benefitted from Isla’s powers, her presence has eliminated the need for a doctor. With the clinic effectively shuttered, Beau has become an alcoholic; a shell of his former self with no purpose.

Like Bobby, Beau is the easiest character to root for because of his selfless desire to protect Isla, but Young (renowned for his work with Crawford on Rectify) unlocks the character’s tragic pathos and, in the process, becomes the film’s emotional anchor.

Beau (Aden Young - L) stands in a room full of children's toys with Faye (Frances Fisher)

Framing the moral decline of the islanders and anticipating the unexpectedly devastating climax is the natural beauty of Newfoundland. As shot by cinematographer Mike McLaughlin, there’s a steely beauty to the geography, resplendent with rocky cliffs, pounding surf, and gusty bluffs that reinforce the islanders’ isolation.

There’s a fierce pride in their struggle to survive independently, evident in the simple lodgings and the antiquated alarm bell that is rung whenever fishing ships from the mainland stray too close. It’s a chilly, atmospheric calling card for one of the most picturesque provinces in Canada, but it is a perfect complement for the folk horror narrative.

Armed with serene, beautiful cinematography, murky moral developments, and a deep bench of talented character actors, The King Tide is a quiet gem that demands to be seen. It’s one of the year’s best genre films.

The King Tide is in theaters April 26, 2024.

4.5 skulls out of 5

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