Funnily enough, these sinister tales were precisely the ones that I gravitated towards back when I was a kid, and I was reminded of this while watching Netflix’s recently released I Am Frankelda, Mexico’s first ever feature-length stop-motion animation and one hell of an entertaining parable about the intersection between fiction and reality.

In honor of this special kind of horror-adjacent fairy tale, today I’d like to share this list recommending six Dark Fantasy films that horror fans might enjoy.

For the purposes of this list, we’ll be defining Dark Fantasy as fantastical stories that don’t shy away from the more macabre elements that fuel classic fairy tales. That being said, don’t forget to comment below with your own grim favorites if you think we missed a particularly thrilling one.

With that out of the way, onto the list!

6. Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)

I’m fascinated by bizarre attempts at blockbuster filmmaking – especially when the resulting movies are somehow still fun despite their corporate-mandated origins. Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters is precisely one of these strangely compelling studio projects, as this surprisingly successful action-thriller boasts a lot of heart (and tongue-in-cheek humor) for a CGI-heavy creature feature.

Directed by Dead Snow’s Tommy Wirkola, Witch Hunters re-frames the classic fairy tale as an origin story for a duo of badass monster-slayers. Of course, it’s the flick’s anachronistic aesthetic and overall visual flair that make it stand out from other action-horror endeavors from around the same time.

5. The Wolf House (2018)

Made in the tradition of faux cursed films in the same vein as Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made, the eerie backstory to 2018’s Chilean animated flick The Wolf House (La Casa Lobo in the original Spanish) already makes it a nightmarish experience before the flick even really begins.

After all, the movie is presented to us as a faux propaganda film produced by the leader of a death cult (heavily inspired by the real life Colonia Dignidad), with this hybrid animated feature using complex movie magic to simulate a single uninterrupted shot as it tells the story of a lazy young girl who runs away from an isolated colony and encounters a creepy old house in the woods.

4. The Brothers Grimm (2005)

Out of all the Monty Python alumni, Terry Gilliam has had the most interesting career outside of the original comedy group. From fascinating canceled projects (such as his scrapped adaptation of Watchmen) to dystopian parodies that feel more relevant by the minute (1985’s Brazil), even his “lesser” films are still intriguing in their own way.

2005’s The Brothers Grimm is one such project, with this peculiar movie attempting to combine the comedian-turned-filmmaker’s unique visual style with a more blockbuster-oriented plot reimagining the titular brothers as con-artists rather than mere writers. The end result isn’t exactly a masterpiece, but it’s still a legitimately fun ride with plenty of memorable monsters and wonderful performances by both the late, great Heath Ledger and Matt Damon.

3. Dante’s Inferno: An Animated Epic (2010)

2010’s Dante’s Inferno game may have a reputation as something of an unapologetic God of War clone, but I’d argue that the now-obscure game was aesthetically unique enough to deserve a bigger fanbase. However, while the title remains trapped on the seventh console generation, its highly underrated anime adaptation is a lot easier to get a hold of!

Animated by 6 different studios in order to make the 9 circles of hell feel unique from each other, this may not be a completely faithful adaptation of Dante Alighieri’s poem, but it’s still one heck of a great (not to mention gory) time that I’d highly recommend to fans of Netflix’s take on Castlevania.

2. Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (2009)

My personal favorite entry in the Underworld franchise, Rise of the Lycans, is a highly ambitious prequel that actually works better if you haven’t had the story spoiled to you by the previous Underworld films.

While the rest of the series features plenty of urban fantasy elements as the movies combine machine guns and modern environments with gothic storytelling, Patrick Tatopoulos’ prequel fully embraces its fantastical origins and tells a classic tale about a doomed romance between a werewolf and a vampire amid a medieval uprising.

And the best part is that we get a lot more Michael Sheen as the fan-favorite Lucian.

1. Solomon Kane (2011)

One of my personal favorite movies on this list, MJ Basset’s criminally underseen adaptation of Robert E. Howard’s other iconic warrior is thoroughly steeped in horror ambience and features plenty of memorable monsters. However, it’s also a classic origin story for a swashbuckling hero that wouldn’t feel out of place in a tabletop RPG.

While I’ve already written about how the film deftly combines both horror and fantasy elements without breaking the bank, I’ll never pass up an opportunity to recommend the bizarre movie where James Purefoy expertly plays a puritan John Wick.

It’s just too bad that we never got the other films in this intended trilogy.

The post 6 Dark Fantasy Films That Every Genre Fan Should Watch appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

That’s why it makes sense that every single Punisher movie is entertaining in its own unique way, as the character remains compelling whether the adaptation embraces comic-book excess or focuses on the hard-boiled vigilante elements of this gun-toting anti-hero. However, while the Thomas Jane incarnation of Frank Castle will always be my nostalgic favorite, the most balanced depiction of the character also happens to be the most underrated, and that’s what we’ll be discussing today. If you haven’t already guessed, I’m referring to Lexi Alexander’s hyper-violent 2008 thriller Punisher: War Zone, a mid-budget gore-fest that I think horror fans might appreciate more than mainstream audiences.

Originally developed as a follow-up to the 2004 Punisher film, the project went through quite a few iterations as several writers (most notably Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter) struggled to find a balance between comic-book stylization and gritty crime story. Unfortunately, numerous underwhelming drafts and a series of unexpected delays led to Thomas Jane becoming disillusioned and exiting production. This required yet another complete overhaul, as the film would have to move forward with a reduced budget now that it no longer had a recognizable star to promote it.

And yet, there was one brave director who was still willing to tackle this troubled project despite all these challenges, and that was German-Palestinian filmmaker and martial artist Lexi Alexander. A badass herself who was convinced to emigrate to Hollywood by none other than Chuck Norris after the two met at a kickboxing event, Alexander was hired after pitching a heavily stylized orgy of blood and bullets that could be shot like an effects-heavy horror flick rather than an expensive blockbuster. And with Ray Stevenson being chosen as the new and more vicious version of the lead character, Punisher: War Zone finally began shooting in late 2007.

In the finished film, which was released in December of 2008, we follow the traumatized vigilante Frank Castle (Stevenson) as his ongoing war on crime accidentally results in both the death of an undercover agent and the creation of a crazed new crime boss in the form of the horrifically disfigured Jigsaw (Dominic West). What follows is a city-wide bloodbath as Castle is forced to confront the unforeseen consequences of his brutal quest for revenge.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

It’s always a tragedy when a good movie doesn’t get the reception it deserves, but Punisher: War Zone was fighting an uphill battle from the very start. While the ’04 film didn’t set the world on fire, fans and critics immediately grew attached to Jane as the titular character, and a reduced budget meant that War Zone couldn’t even rely on bigger set-pieces to one-up its predecessor (and that’s not even mentioning the botched marketing campaign that treated the new film like an indie production). Thankfully, Alexander’s film has developed a cult following over the years, with many fans looking back fondly on its idiosyncratic dialogue and schlocky “nu-metal” aesthetics.

Of course, it’s not just the film’s gritty atmosphere that’s worth revisiting. War Zone also touches on the ethical quandaries of vigilante justice by having a large portion of the story hinge on Castle’s accidental killing of an undercover agent and his subsequent feelings of remorse. Towards the end of the flick, Punisher even knocks out one of his new colleagues in order to prevent him from helping out during the final confrontation because he doesn’t want someone else going down the same dark road even if it gets results.

These dark elements are made even more impactful by Ray Stevenson’s jaded and decidedly less sympathetic portrayal of the iconic anti-hero. This version of Castle is a broken shell of a man that commits homicide on auto-pilot, and even Stevenson’s ad-libbed one-liners feel more hateful than fun. It’s really this mean streak that makes the film stand out amongst other comic-book adaptations, with War Zone having more in common with classic Charles Bronson flicks than anything you might see in the MCU.

That’s not to say that this is a completely humorless experience, however, as the characters surrounding Castle are charming enough to make up for his grim demeanor. While I miss the quirky neighbors from the ’04 movie (which were cleverly adapted from Garth Ennis’ Welcome Back, Frank miniseries), War Zone provides us with comic-book accurate renditions of fan-favorites like Microchip (Wayne Knight) and the lovable Detective Soap (Dash Mihok). I’m also a fan of Dominic West’s surprisingly nuanced take on Jigsaw, with this larger-than-life villain joyfully chewing up scenery as if he’s the real main character here – especially when he’s playing off of his psychotic brother, Loony Bin Jim (hilariously played by Doug Hutchison).

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Here on Horror Adjacent, we’ve previously discussed how genre is often just a matter of perspective. For instance, films like In a Violent Nature and John Wick are basically depicting the same events (an over-powered main character committing mass murder after a tragedy) but in a different context. Of course, it’s rare for action filmmakers to acknowledge these similarities in order to avoid making their protagonists too unlikable, but that’s exactly why I think War Zone is such a fun time. The film chooses to depict the Punisher as a gun-toting Jason Voorhees scaring the crap out of criminals from his very first appearance during that kick-ass dinner sequence, with the audience being left to decide for themselves if they think the character’s fury is justified.

In fact, from punches that go straight through criminals’ skulls to some of the most gleefully messy shotgun blasts in film history, there’s so much visceral violence on display here that you can’t help but question the protagonist’s methods. Hell, Jigsaw even comments on the similarity of recruiting armed goons to how the military industrial complex recruits vulnerable youths with the promise of financial gain, with details like these adding much-needed nuance to the story.

And speaking of Jigsaw, I really appreciate how the film goes all-out with West’s disgusting prosthetics, with the end result looking like a Leatherface prototype mask from before he really developed his crafting skills. The face-shredding sequence where Billy gets mangled by broken glass is also a prime example of body horror, with uncredited writer Kurt Sutter claiming that it’s the only one of his original scenes that made it into the film. Despite this, it’s Jigsaw’s deranged demeanor as an unstable crime-boss that makes him so memorable, with West’s excellent use of exaggerated voice-work and “crazy-eyes” giving the character some much-needed gravitas despite all the latex covering his performance. Of course, I’d still argue that Frank Castle himself is the real Bogeyman of this story.

Punisher: War Zone is obviously a case of style over substance, but it’s hard to complain about a film that nails the spirit of its source material so completely. Sure, it was still a couple of drafts (and a few million dollars) away from becoming a real comic-book masterpiece along the lines of Dredd or even Sin City, but this is still one of the best Marvel adaptations out there and definitely worth revisiting if you’re a fan of vigilante stories that feel like slasher movies.

The post ‘Punisher: War Zone’ – Frank Castle Is Jason Voorhees in This Ultraviolent Marvel Gorefest appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And while you’ll find your fair share of terrifying moments in films like Sin City or even Chinatown, today I’d like to discuss a quintessential example of horror-adjacent cinema, Stuart Gordon’s criminally underseen King of the Ants – a grimy little gem that I think might be more fun now than it was back in 2003.

Like many of the best Noir movies, King of the Ants is adapted from a darkly comedic novel about the seedy underbelly of ’90s Los Angeles. Written by the multitalented English artist Charlie Higson (who would later write the screenplay for the adaptation), the book was something of a moderate success, but a film version of the story would only become a reality after the project was championed by none other than the late, great George Wendt. The Cheers star personally approached his old theater friend (and master of splatter cinema) Stuart Gordon in order to develop Higson’s story into a movie, and Gordon reportedly fell in love with the novel’s strange tone.

Unfortunately, it would take over seven years for Gordon to finance the project, as the story’s disturbing elements made studios hesitant to develop a movie that they felt was too horrific for crime thriller fans and too tame for horror enthusiasts. It was The Asylum that ultimately saved the picture, with the company deciding to take a huge risk by making King of the Ants their first official production, as they had previously only acted as a distributor. Nevertheless, production went by smoothly (albeit with an extremely limited budget), and the film premiered at the 2003 edition of Seattle’s International Film Festival, with a wide DVD release scheduled for June of the following year.

In the finished film, we follow a down-on-his-luck Angeleno named Sean Crawley (Chris McKenna) as he stumbles his way into a job as an amateur hitman once contractor Duke Wayne (George Wendt) introduces him to the dangerous world of shady real estate development. Unfortunately for Sean, his employers realize that it would be much easier to simply make their bumbling hitman disappear than to actually pay him for his service, so they decide to tie up loose ends in the most horrific way imaginable.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Not only did King of the Ants sell and rent enough copies to convince The Asylum to continue producing movies, but the film also reviewed relatively well despite its low budget and lack of mass market appeal. Unfortunately, the flick’s limited distribution and niche subject matter meant that it couldn’t quite reach the same amount of genre fans as Gordon’s previous projects.

This is a huge shame, as there’s a lot to love about the movie if you can get past the low production value. For starters, the lo-fi cinematography feels even more impressive now than it did back in the day, with naturalistic lighting and real locations working together to ground viewers in an appropriately oppressive yet entirely believable depiction of a gritty Los Angeles.

The script is also deeply bizarre in all of the right ways, with the story pulling Crawley in unpredictable directions as he becomes part of a warped version of the criminal conspiracies he once enjoyed inside of pulpy paperbacks. While I wouldn’t want to ruin the experience for readers who have yet to see the film, suffice to say that a sizable portion of the runtime is dedicated to torturing our main character, with Sean only making things worse for himself by deciding to act like the exaggerated protagonists of his favorite detective stories.

This subtle meta twist only works because McKenna does such a great job of establishing the character as something of a bumbling loser during the first half of the film, with his transformation into something decidedly more animalistic feeling even more absurd when you have something to compare it too. Of course, the rest of the cast also does a great job of bringing these tropey characters to life in a believable way, with both Wendt and Daniel Baldwin delivering stand-out performances as burly criminals with a lot more going on underneath the surface than you might initially expect.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

We’ve already established that Film Noir is at its best when focusing on the horrific parts of criminal activity, but it takes an experienced director to recognize precisely what common clichés can be turned into nightmare fuel without fully switching genres. That’s why it made a lot of sense for Wendt to bring King of the Ants to Gordon, as this dark genre mash-up has a lot in common with the transgressive stage-plays that used to get Gordon in trouble with the law before he began working in film.

While this is a grounded thriller at its core, the movie manages to sneak in a memorable collection of surreal scenes that harken back to the effects-heavy partnerships between Gordon and Brian Yuzna. From concussion-induced dream sequences featuring horrific monsters to literal jump-scares as our protagonist suffers from PTSD, it’s clear that Gordon is having a lot of fun with Higson’s source material despite removing a lot of the novel’s original humor.

The film may not show as much of Sean’s horrific ordeal as the source material, but King of the Ants somehow feels meaner than the original story. With the exception of the cathartic finale, almost none of the violence here is stylized, and even the initial murder feels more awkward than badass. In fact, every single punch, stab and gunshot is depicted as a messy and ugly affair, and I think this approach meshes quite well with the idea that Sean’s is being forced to confront his glamorized view of criminal life.

That’s why the torture sequence feels so effective, with Gordon even adding a body-horror element as Sean comes to terms with the fact that the thugs intend to reduce him into an animalistic prisoner trapped inside of his own body. And as uncomfortable as this is to watch, it’s almost disappointing to have the film shift gears once Sean inevitably escapes from this horrific predicament and mostly recovers from what should have been irreversible damage to both his body and mind.

King of the Ants is definitely an acquired taste, but it’s also one of Stuart Gordon’s most interesting movies – not to mention one hell of a disturbing deconstruction of Film Noir tropes. That’s why I’m not surprised that the movie still boasts a cult following, with McKenna even getting to briefly reprise his role as Crawley in Joe Lynch’s Suitable Flesh back in 2023. And while the movie suffers from awkward pacing and a severe case of tonal whiplash, I think genre fans will have a blast revisiting this strange little thriller from a time when The Asylum was content with producing movies that didn’t require over-the-top CGI to be entertaining.

The post ‘King of the Ants’ – Stuart Gordon’s Underseen Genre Mashup Is Worth Watching 20 Years Later appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And when it comes to modernized retellings of ancient narratives in film, one of the most fascinating happens to be John McTiernan’s underrated deconstruction of Beowulf, The 13^th Warrior. Not only is this 1999 historical thriller a misunderstood gem, but I also believe that it reinvents mythical monster slaying in such a way that it might also appeal to horror fans.

The 13^th Warrior‘s bumpy journey towards cinema screens began all the way back in 1976 with the publication of Michael Crichton’s historical fiction novel Eaters of the Dead. Wanting to prove an academic colleague wrong after he claimed that Beowulf was an uninteresting story, Crichton developed an epistolary tale where the real writer and adventurer Ahmed ibn Fadlan ends up accompanying a group of Scandinavian warriors on a quest to slay an otherworldly force that will one day become the stuff of legends. The completed novel was ultimately well-received, but it was only after the enormous success of larger Crichton projects like Twister and Jurassic Park that Hollywood decided to bring it to the big screen.

Funnily enough, Stuart Gordon was the first director to express interest in the project, but it makes sense that Touchstone Pictures chose to hire a filmmaker with prior experience in horror-adjacent stories about men standing up to larger-than-life monsters – Predator director John McTiernan. However, McTiernan and Crichton had two wildly different plans for this peculiar adaptation. While McTiernan wanted the film to be a more somber recreation of the novel’s dark reimagining of ancient legend, Crichton’s experience with blockbuster filmmaking made him to want to streamline the story and change the project into more of an epic war movie. This internal conflict only worsened as the film went overbudget, and once a series of disastrous test screenings convinced producers that the flick was headed in the wrong direction, McTiernan was fired and replaced by Crichton himself.

After a series of reshoots and a complete re-edit of the picture, the freshly renamed The 13^th Warrior was released to mixed critical reception and middling box office returns in August of 1999. In the finished film, we follow Antonio Banderas at the peak of his sexy leading man era as Ahmed ibn Fadlan, with this disgraced poet being reassigned as an ambassador to Bulgaria after having an affair with the wife of a Baghdad nobleman. While travelling through Europe, Ahmed is unwittingly recruited as the titular 13^th Warrior on an expedition led by Prince Buliwyf as he attempts to bring down the mist-borne “Wendol” that have been raiding Norsemen settlements for months.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Back in ‘99, most of the criticism lobbed towards The 13^th Warrior had to do with the film’s rushed pacing and general lack of character development. Unfortunately, while I think the film deserves to be reevaluated as something of a hidden gem (and I’m fairly certain that a lot of the negative reaction had to do with its Islamic protagonist), there’s no denying that the stitches holding this hastily butchered movie together are still quite visible even if you’re not aware of the behind-the-scenes complications.

However, despite the fact that the film is clearly missing about half-an-hour of story – and that’s not even mentioning how the break-neck pace refuses to allow the epic elements any time to breathe – the heart of the experience is still remarkably intact. There’s a highly compelling emotional core to this historical yarn, with Ahmed’s journey as a foreigner studying a new culture and learning to admire them being just as compelling as the fight against the primitive Wendols. Banderas’ casting as a middle-eastern man may be a little questionable, but he brings so much natural charm to the table that you can’t help but root for this self-centered poet-turned-warrior.

There have been other horror-adjacent Beowulf retellings (Outlander is a notable example that we’ve already covered in this column), but The 13^th Warrior stands out by applying a certain level of grounded nuance to the action. Sure, there are some egregious historical inaccuracies here (like anachronistic weapons, armor and burial rituals), but I like how McTiernan (and Crichton) contrast the barbaric nature of the Norsemen with their enemies without necessarily passing judgement on them.

There are also some incredibly bold creative choices here that are meant to further immerse audiences in this historical fable. The montage towards the beginning of the film where Ahmed observes the Vikings and steadily learns their language is the stuff of cinematic legend, and I appreciate clever little details like how the mythical “Fire Serpent” is actually just a line of fire-wielding Wendols burning a path through the forest. Hell, having our antagonists worship a prehistoric idol carved to look like a paleolithic Venus is also a cool hint towards their true nature, with this subtle foreshadowing working even better here than it does in the original book.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

There’s a very disturbing theory about how Neanderthals may have fed off of their weaker cousins, the homo sapiens. However, centuries (or perhaps even millennia) of oppression from these humanoid monsters might have led humankind to organize – likely through shared stories and religion – and wage war against a species that, while stronger and smarter, was less culturally advanced.

It’s amazing enough that Eaters of the Dead and its adaptation managed to hint at this possibility decades before this theory became mainstream, but even if this isn’t exactly how things went down in real life, you’ve got to admit that Crichton had one hell of a fun twist in his retelling of Beowulf. After all, cannibalistic cavemen are a much more grounded threat than fire-breathing dragons, and that’s why the Wendol often propel The 13^th Warrior firmly into horror territory.

In fact, I find the film’s final battle sequence entirely unnecessary, as the eerie trek into the dank caves of the Wendol in order to destroy their brood mother was enough of a satisfying climax in and of itself. That being said, the film’s fight scenes are also fascinating, with incredibly violent choreography and plenty of practical blood and guts. McTiernan chooses to depict war as more of a chaotic nightmare than a heroic endeavor – something that makes the reshoots even more obvious they seem more inclined to lean into the epic nature of the conflict instead.

The 13th Warrior may be a flawed experience, but despite its missing story beats and the occasional tonal whiplash, it’s still one of Crichton’s most interesting adaptations. And even if we never see the coveted Director’s Cut restoring the flick’s missing character moments and worldbuilding, the film we got still deserves more love – especially from genre fans wanting to experience a spooky story about man-eating Neanderthals.

The post John McTiernan’s ‘The 13th Warrior’ Reinvented Mythical Monster Slaying appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

However, some movies are better at masking these darker elements than others, and today I’d like to discuss a particularly odd picture that’s been referred to as both a criminally underrated cult classic and a perfect example of so-bad-it’s-good cinema in equal measure. Naturally, I’m referring to Donald G. Jackson and R.J. Kizer’s 1989 Roddy Piper vehicle, Hell Comes to Frogtown, a post-apocalyptic thriller that somehow blends classic monster movies, raunchy sex comedies and Mad Max into a single ridiculous package.

The story of Hell Comes to Frogtown begins in the mid-80s, when co-director Donald G. Jackson found himself enjoying the modest success of his direct-to-video sci-fi flick Roller Blade. Impressed by how a $70,000 production managed to stand out in such a competitive market, New World Pictures approached the filmmaker and asked if he had ideas for more genre movies that could be produced on the cheap. Jackson replied with a pitch that he later described as The Road Warrior meets Planet of the Apes, and the rest was history.

While this post-apocalyptic romp was originally meant to be produced for a meager $150,000, union regulations and an increasingly complex script soon multiplied the actual budget to something closer to $1 million. This led to New World forcing Jackson to co-direct the feature alongside their frequent collaborator R.J. Kizer due to his experience shooting the American segments of Godzilla ’85. And while the production team couldn’t secure heavy hitters like Sybil Danning and Pam Grier for the supporting cast, they succeeded in hiring wrestling legend “Rowdy” Roddy Piper in his first starring role.

In the finished film, which was released in January of ’88, we follow Piper as the titular Sam Hell, a troublemaking nomad with a heart of gold who roams a post-nuclear wasteland. After being captured by the local government, Hell is reluctantly placed into a fertility program meant to repopulate the radioactively-sterilized America. When a mutant warlord takes a group of fertile human women hostage, the patriotic Nurse Spangle (Sandahl Bergman) and Corporal Centinella (Cec Verrell) force Hell to accompany them into the infamous Frogtown in order to rescue the women from their amphibious captors.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Even back in the ’80s, it was hard to find earnest fun among genre rip-offs. While films like The New Barbarians and even Stryker had their merits, most of these Mad Max wannabees were more interested in capitalizing off of their familiar premise than actually playing around in a post-apocalyptic sandbox. Thankfully, this is far from the case with Hell Comes to Frogtown. While the film wasn’t exactly a critical darling, B-movie fans quickly warmed up to this oddball adventure and its idiosyncratic characters.

I have a soft spot for movies that try to reach further than their resources can grasp, and I think that’s why I couldn’t help but fall in love with the reproduction-obsessed world of Frogtown. From the flick’s genius use of real industrial ruins to the hastily customized vehicles, you get the feeling that the production team was trying to extract every last drop of value from whatever scrap they could scavenge. It’s even rumored that effects supervisor Steve Wang agreed to create all of the Frog effects for less than $12,000 in order to save money for the rest of the grueling 19-day shoot, a decision that almost certainly saved the production.

That being said, we all know that the real reason to watch this often uncomfortably horny experience is Roddy Piper himself. While the rushed script and haphazard direction mean that his character isn’t quite as relatable as the working man protagonist of John Carpenter’s They Live, Piper’s natural born charisma and rugged good looks make Hell an action hero for the ages – especially when he gets bothered about being objectified due to his functional sperm count. The directing duo may have had to hire an acting coach in order to help Piper tone down his wrestling persona for the big screen, but I think his over-the-top line delivery is precisely what makes the film so damn quotable.

While some of the jokes have aged badly and the film’s obsession with sexuality can be downright offensive at times, the playful tone and Roddy’s undeniable charm mostly make up for these quirks. The end result may not be 100% original, but there’s plenty to love about this movie if you can ignore the obviously sub-par production value. Hell, I’d even recommend the film to fans of the post-apocalyptic satire of the Fallout franchise!

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Hell Comes to Frogtown is a deeply unserious film, with most of its intense action and disturbing sexual undertones being balanced out by ridiculous backstories and exaggerated characters. That being said, the heart of the story is still technically a Lovecraftian monster movie about frog-people kidnapping human women and offering them up to their mutant cult leader.

In fact, this is one of the more brutal depictions of a post-apocalyptic society in all of the films we’ve covered so far, it just so happens that these darker elements are usually lampshaded by humorous delivery. I mean, ideas like mutants engaging in human trafficking would be downright disturbing in other films, and don’t even get me started on the Dance of the Three Snakes!

Of course, genre fans are here for the mutated frogs, and the special effects that bring them to life are definitely worth the wait. While I appreciate the restraint shown by the filmmakers as they hide the amphibians from us throughout the first half of the movie, the experience really comes alive once we finally enter Frogtown and the movie turns into an all-out creature feature. The latex masks and occasional use of motorized animatronics may not be of the highest quality, but the consistently slimy textures and badass designs serve as proof that Steve Wang took his job seriously – and that’s not even mentioning nerdy little details like how the final battle between Hell and Commander Toty was shot in the very same Vasquez Rocks where Star Trek’s Captain Kirk famously battled the reptilian Gorn.

Hell Comes to Frogtown may not come close to matching the quality of the George Miller endeavors that inspired it, but the filmmakers approach this familiar setup with such a creative outlook that you can’t help but root for this energetic little midnight movie. As I mentioned before, some of its more sexual elements may not have aged all that well, but if you’re in the mood for low-budget monsters and a memorable performance by the late, great Roddy Piper, I’d recommend revisiting the slimy thrills of Frogtown.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Celebrating the Slimy Thrills of ‘Hell Comes to Frogtown’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

A great example of this is Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, a series of Young Adult novels defined by their generally gothic tone and frequent use of gallows humor. While these books were a tremendous hit among the Scholastic crowd (and often served as a dreary substitute for kids who weren’t into Harry Potter), they also contained numerous gruesome deaths and genuinely disturbing plot points that still distress readers to this day. And with the 2000s seeing a rise in big budget Young Adult adaptations, it’s no surprise that these books were eventually adapted into a divisive feature film back in 2004 – a film that I believe deserves more love from genre enthusiasts.

Originally released in 1999, the first wave of ASOUE books were optioned by Nickelodeon only a few months after they hit store shelves. Producers saw potential in an edgier series that didn’t talk down to its younger readers, and an adaptation was all but confirmed once the first Harry Potter film proved to be a huge success. Excited by the idea of a faithful adaptation, Daniel Handler (Lemony Snicket’s real-world alter ego) himself wrote the first draft of the proposed movie while also personally insisting on Jim Carrey to be cast as the villainous Count Olaf.

Unfortunately, this initial version of the project would end up being canceled due to budgetary concerns and studio meddling. After a series of false starts, one of which was meant to be directed by Tim Burton, production would pick up again a few years later with Robert Gordon rewriting the script and Brad Silberling taking over to direct after Burton dropped out of the project. Thankfully, despite all the changes, the studio ultimately managed to secure Jim Carrey as the iconic antagonist.

In the finished film, which adapts The Bad Beginning, The Reptile Room and The Wide Window simultaneously, we follow the ill-fortuned Baudelaire orphans – Klaus (Liam Aiken), Violet (Emily Browning) and Sunny (Kara and Shelby Hoffman) – as they are tossed from one eccentric guardian to the next after a mysterious fire destroys their home. To make matters worse, the siblings are constantly targeted by the scheming actor Count Olaf (Jim Carrey), a sleazy criminal who will stop at nothing to get his hands on the orphans’ family fortune.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Released in December of 2004, A Series of Unfortunate Events didn’t exactly set the world on fire. It wasn’t really a box-office bomb, but the movie severely underperformed after a botched marketing campaign failed to attract families during the Holiday Season. And while most reviews at the time were positive, there was a recurring notion that the movie was trying to recreate the dark fairy tale magic of a Tim Burton movie without the idiosyncrasies that made the director’s films so interesting in the first place.

I’ll be the first to admit that Silberling’s adaptation is a deeply flawed and regrettably toned-down retelling of the books (the film was hastily re-edited after test screening audiences deemed it too dark for children), but I still think that there’s still plenty to love about this misunderstood gem – perhaps even more so than its 2017 successor on Netflix.

For starters, while the flick’s gloomy sense of style was accused of borrowing heavily from Tim Burton’s work, this happened to be an intentional choice by Silberling who was aware of the director’s plans for this adaptation. Realizing that Burton’s “suburban gothic” style was a perfect fit for the anachronistic world of ASOUE, Silberling wanted to honor his vision and even insisted on keeping Burton on as a producer/creative consultant once he took over directing duties. Burton may have refused to continue working on the film, but his influence can be felt in its peculiar atmosphere and even Thomas Newman’s excellent Danny-Elfman-inspired soundtrack.

Beyond the gothic aesthetic, I also believe that the film’s script captures the essence of Handler’s writing even though the story had to be dumbed down for a wider audience. I even appreciate how A Bad Beginning was used to bookend the movie in order to make things feel less episodic, and the added moments of tension (such as the scene where the Orphans have to escape from a locked car before it’s destroyed by an oncoming train) feel like natural extensions of the books. My only real grip here is with the way that the movie removes all agency from Violet during the climax.

In the end, it’s really the film’s surprisingly talented ensemble that manages to tie the whole experience together. The Baudelaires are perfectly cast despite some discrepancies from the books, Billy Connolly and Meryl Streep knock it out of the park as Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine (and that’s not even mentioning Jude Law’s brief appearance as Lemony Snicket), but Jim Carrey’s Count Olaf is the real reason to see this picture. This version of Olaf may not be quite as menacing as his literary counterpart, but I actually find him more believable than Neil Patrick Harris’ take on the character in the Netflix series.

As if that wasn’t enough, the movie also benefits from a series of bit parts performed by memorable character actors like Jennifer Coolidge, Luis Guzman and even the always-lovable Catherine O’Hara!

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Daniel Handler has repeatedly claimed that the ASOUE books were actually based on an idea he had for a satirical gothic novel aimed towards adults. This initial version of the story may have been heavily revised, but bits and pieces of its edgier material managed to survive in the ensuing Young Adult franchise. Naturally, this also extends to the film adaptation despite its limitations.

The series as a whole has a grisly fascination with grief and death, but the film enhances these themes with its gloomy atmosphere and abundant use of subliminal imagery implying that the Baudelaires are constantly being watched by forces beyond their control. That’s not even mentioning the man-eating leeches (with designs directly lifted from the book’s eerie illustrations) and freaky giant reptiles that populate this deadly fable, with these darker elements making me wish that we could one day see the more adult version of the film that supposedly offended test audiences.

Olaf himself can also be a legitimately frightening villain when the story calls for it. Despite Carrey’s over-the-top antics, there’s plenty of bite to this terrifying thespian – especially when he’s hidden from fellow adults and reveals his true colors to the orphans. Not only does this despicable character repeatedly try to murder a group of children with no remorse (while also having no qualms about marrying his underaged ward), but Carrey also claims to have based parts of his villainous performance on Bela Lugosi’s larger-than-life stage presence.

The 2017 Netflix series may technically be a superior adaptation of the books, benefiting from the added runtime and a more faithful script that reaches a definitive conclusion, but it still can’t compete with the impressive filmmaking behind Silberling’s version of the story. This may not be the adaptation that fans deserved, but Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events is still worth revisiting over two decades later as blockbuster oddity from a time when horror-adjacent kid’s stories still had a chance of reaching the big screen.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post The Family-Friendly Horrors of ‘Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

The father of the modern zombie movie, Romero was also a deeply passionate idealist and multitalented artist with ideas spanning multiple genres. And while most of his fans focus on success of his Living Dead films (and the occasional obscure gem like Martin), today I’d like to discuss the director’s most overlooked feature, 1981’s Knightriders – a film that I think will appeal to hardcore horror fans despite featuring almost none of Romero’s penchant for exaggerated blood and guts.

Originally envisioned as a more realistic retelling of the King Arthur story, Romero later revised his little passion project after working on a series of racing documentaries and meeting the Society for Creative Anachronism. Realizing that the ancient tales of honor and bravery that fascinated him in his youth were still being played out in modern times under different circumstances, the filmmaker soon found himself with an updated script about a dedicated group of performers facing the cruelty of life on the road.

In the finished film, which was released in April of 1981 alongside another Arthurian retelling (John Boorman’s Excalibur), we follow a travelling troupe of entertainers who engage in medieval jousts while riding motorcycles instead of horses. Led by the idealistic King William (Ed Harris), the anachronistic group deals with conflicts both internal and external as the real world begins to threaten their fantastical form of life.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

If the bonkers premise isn’t enough to reel you in, rest assured that Romero’s poetic execution of ancient myth through a modern lens is also one hell of a fun ride. Even children are likely to enjoy the surface-level thrills of watching armor-clad bikers clashing in increasingly dangerous ways, but there’s also a deeper layer to the flick’s unique take on Arthurian legend. If you can look past the homemade helmets and maces, Romero is actually using this ridiculous setup to discuss some incredibly serious issues.

Taking inspiration from the works of T.H. White, Miguel de Cervantes and, more importantly, Dennis Hopper, Romero’s modern-day epic doesn’t just adapt age-old myths of quests and kingship – he actively comments on them. By populating Camelot with nomadic performers, the filmmaker compares the concept of an honorable kingdom with how modern artistic communities struggle to maintain their integrity in a world that fears true freedom.

From the flick’s deliberate use of multiracial casting in familiar mythical roles to moments where law enforcement attempt to profit off of folks who live in the margins of society, it’s easy to see that Romero was making a point about the kind of people and beliefs that are commonly persecuted in “modern” times. Hell, the movie even features positive representation of gay characters in ways that would make audiences accuse it of being excessively “woke” if it were released today.

Of course, Knightriders simply wouldn’t work without the career-defining performance of our first-time leading man, Ed Harris. Harris’ King William isn’t just a stand-in for King Arthur, he also represents Romero’s progressive ideals, with this stubborn hero constantly battling against “the dragon” of reality in an attempt to keep his dream of a free Camelot alive. The rest of the cast is also excellent, with the storytelling Pastor Brother Blue making for a fascinating Merlin and Tom Savini giving his all as a gender-swapped Morgan Le Fay, but Harris’ commanding demeanor is the glue that holds both the troupe and the story together.

Ultimately, what really makes the film worth watching is its unprecedented earnestness. Romero is clearly working through some personal issues in the film’s script, and I interpret the narrative as the filmmaker commenting on the reality of maintaining a career as an artist in 1980s Hollywood. Fortunately, the experience still works when removed from all metaphors and mythological allegories, though that’s mostly due to the fact that all the characters act like real, breathing people even when engaged in motor-jousting.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Knightriders is one of the least horror-adjacent films in George Romero’s filmography. And yet, as the old adage says, “you can remove the director from the genre, but you can’t remove the genre from the director.” That’s why the flick still features some of the same recurring themes as movies like Dawn of the Dead without providing us with any real gore or frights.

Not only does Romero take the Shakespearean conflict here seriously, with the troupe’s power struggles feeling raw and believable despite all the ren-faire armor and medieval monikers, but he also made an effort to depict jousting as a decidedly visceral sport. The movie’s action displays the same kind of brutal energy as George Miller’s early Mad Max films, and I’m honestly surprised that no stuntman was killed in the shooting of this picture, as some of the crashes here feel more painful than anything in the effects-heavy Dead movies.

There’s also the matter of the film’s memorable cast. Even casual viewers will spot cameos like that of Stephen and Tabitha King (who were on set to collaborate with Romero on the then-upcoming Creepshow), but dedicated horror hounds will also be surprised to spot genre veterans like Ken Foree and John Amplas – as well as the aforementioned Tom Savini – in a movie that doesn’t feature masked serial killers or man-eating mutants.

Knightriders may not rank among George Romero’s most popular productions, lacking the humorous flair of Creepshow and the apocalyptic dread of the Dead franchise, but I personally find it to be one of the director’s most accomplished films. An evergreen meditation on honor, leadership and life as an artist, as well as a surprisingly faithful adaptation of the Arthurian mythos, there’s nothing out there quite like this 1981 gem. That’s why I’d urge horror fans to check this oddball movie out despite its lack of zombies.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post The Knights, Fights and Motorbikes of George A. Romero’s ‘Knightriders’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Sometimes, some movies aren’t necessarily bad, they’re just not for you. And now that both Pattinson and Stewart have firmly established their careers outside of their young-adult-oriented work, I think this is the perfect time to look back on the original Twilight and discuss how this excessively maligned movie can be a legitimately entertaining horror-adjacent experience if you overlook a few surface-level flaws and enjoy is as a campy genre-bending romance.

I was never part of the target audience for Twilight. I actually remember casually passing judgement on the folks who were reading Stephanie Meyer’s romantic saga while I buried my teenaged nose in Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft. Despite my adolescent contempt, however, there’s a reason why these books were so popular. Originally titled Forks, the first novel in the series began life as a long-term passion project written for Meyer’s own amusement, with the story being inspired by a romantic dream where the author imagined herself being stalked by a vampire who thirsted after her heart as well as her blood. This initial manuscript would only reach publishers at the insistence of Meyer’s sister, with its publication being particularly unusual due to the book’s length – over double the size of the average Young-Adult publication.

While Twilight is often accused of being a trope-heavy bore with story-beats borrowed from Buffy and Interview with the Vampire, there really wasn’t anything else quite like it among the Young-Adult offerings of 2005. A surprisingly earnest dark romance that refrained from talking down to its audience, it’s no wonder the book was a hit among teens as well as movie producers – with the manuscript making its way to Hollywood before the book was even released. On the lookout for the next Harry Potter, Paramount Pictures quickly snatched up the rights to the novel and almost immediately started working on an adaptation through MTV Films.

While Paramount’s adaptation would have transformed the story into a more action-oriented affair meant to draw in the male crowd (complete with a jet-ski chase scene involving the FBI), the project would soon fall apart due to changes in internal leadership. It was only when Summit Entertainment acquired the rights to the book in 2007 that a more faithful retelling of the story was fast-tracked into production, with Lords of Dogtown director Catherine Hardwicke being hired to helm the picture and Meyer being brought on as a consultant.

In the finished film, which was released in November of 2008, we follow teenager Isabella Swann (Kristen Stewart) as she moves in with her father Charlie (Billy Burke), Chief of Police in Forks, Washington. Enrolling in a new High-School, Bella soon attracts the attention of fellow student Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson, who was cast at the insistence of Stewart after an onscreen chemistry test), eventually discovering that he’s secretly a century-old vampire.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

There are a few benefits to being a millennial. For starters, we were (kind of) the last generation to have our taste in movies be mostly constructed by exposure to media that we had no control over – meaning that we often watched things that weren’t recommended to us by a personalized algorithm and that we had no personal interest in.

This may not sound very convenient, but being forced to watch things outside of your comfort zone is an excellent way to learn how to appreciate media that wasn’t necessarily meant for you. That’s how I still wound up watching Twilight years later despite having participated in the worldwide public shaming of the franchise and its fans. And wouldn’t you know it? I actually found myself enjoying this atmospheric little piece of romantic pulp fiction despite its refusal to cater to my personal genre preferences.

Sure, I’m still bothered by the horrific age-gap between our lead couple (something that would have made the story more interesting if it was ever addressed), but the story here is so sincere in its over-the-top melodrama that it’s easy to ignore most of these trope-heavy blemishes and just go along for the silly ride. Hell, even a grown man like myself was able to relate to Bella’s High-School loner persona, and while I thought that Jacob was an annoying third wheel of a character, he was only ever acting like a realistic teenager.

Of course, the film’s gloomy atmosphere is its greatest asset, with the town of Forks becoming a moody lens through which we observe the lives of hormonal teenagers going through romantic feelings for the first time in their lives. From the scenic photography to the comically exaggerated blue filter over (nearly) the entire picture, you know what the world of Twilight looks like at a glance – and I call that effective filmmaking even it’s excessive.

Over the years, I’ve even softened on the film’s mid-2000s alt-rock soundtrack. It may be the nostalgia speaking, as many of these songs were on the radio back when I was a teenager (even though I hated most of them at the time), but I genuinely think that the energetic melodies and angsty lyrics help to craft an appropriately adolescent world filled with exaggerated emotions.

And you know what? Despite the age difference, if a 100-year-old vampire lady fell in love with me back when I was in senior year – you can bet your ass that I’d be sparkling in the sunlight at the beach and sharing a literal Bloody Mary with her right now. Of course, this is just my way of saying that I remember what it’s like to be a teenager, and so does Meyer.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Twilight may be a teenage romance, but it’s also unabashedly a vampire movie. From the tragic description of the Cullen clan’s backstories to their World-of-Darkness-inspired super-powers, you can tell that Meyer was quite comfortable scrounging around the vampiric canon of masters like Anne Rice and even Bram Stoker. Her passion for the material is sometimes overplayed, with her characters often feeling more like gloomy comic-book heroes than monsters, but at least the story is being told by a fan of the genre.

And before people in the comments start complaining about how Edward sparkles in the sunlight as opposed to bursting into flames, it’s worth remembering that, before 1922’s Nosferatu, folkloric vampires were not hindered by sunlight. This means that Meyers’ shiny bloodsuckers are technically more lore-accurate than most other vampire flicks out there. That being said, I actually like some of the story’s additions to the mythology, such as having all of a vampire’s bodily fluids be replaced by supernatural “venom.”

There are also a few traditional vampire scares in the flick, mostly involving the nomadic trio of antagonists. And while I agree with the Vampire Sucks gag about the group looking remarkably like The Black-Eyed Peas, I appreciate that the movie allows for some brutal vampire-on-vampire violence despite its PG-13 rating.

I also unironically love Burke’s take on Charlie Swann. While in another more action-oriented experience he’d be the undead-hunting lead character, seeing him relegated to a supportive father role is hilarious when you consider the absurdity of what’s really going on – especially when he seems to have the most common sense out of the entire ensemble.

Campy, charming and occasionally problematic, Twilight may not be a movie I revisit often, but it’s also not the paragon of terrible cinema that the internet once made it out to be. At the end of the day, this is a harmless little teen romance with some memorable characters and legitimately great atmosphere. And even if you don’t like it, I think we can all agree that the memes where horror fans used to photoshop Wesley Snipes’s Blade into screenshots of the film are still objectively hilarious.

The post A Vampire Valentine: Re-Evaluating the Spooky Romance of ‘Twilight’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

These days, even adult-oriented RPG-adjacent productions like Prime Video’s Vox Machina series are still mostly playful in tone, but that’s not to say that no creator has ever dared to explore the darker side of their favorite hobby.

We’ve already covered dark fantasy flicks like Solomon Kane and The Beastmaster on previous editions of Horror Adjacent, but today I’d like to discuss something a little more meta. Back in 2009, a young French-Canadian filmmaker decided to turn his interest in extreme role-playing into the basis for a story about how make-believe conflict can have very real consequences, with the ensuing project becoming the criminally underseen indie thriller The Wild Hunt.

Inspired by the Norse sagas that still thrive amongst the Nordic immigrants of Canada, filmmaker Alexandre Franchifelt came up with the idea for his debut feature when he realized that these ancient narratives were often accidentally re-enacted by dedicated Live-Action Role-Players (hobbyists engaging in a gamified form of collective storytelling where players physically play out characters without the need for abstract tools like dice and character sheets). And with Franchifelt’s home-province of Quebec being home to one of the largest LARP communities in the world, it stands to reason that the director would want to take advantage of the existing Tolkienesque backdrop of elves and Vikings roaming the enchanted backwoods of Canada.

In the finished film, we follow the son of Icelandic immigrants Erik Magnusson (Ricky Mabe) as his jealous nature gets the better of him and he crashes a LARP event in order to win back his role-playing girlfriend Lyn (Kaniehtiio Horn). With the help of his mythology-obsessed older brother Bjorn (Mark Antony Krupa), Erik unwittingly incites chaos among the various factions of the game, with the film slowly devolving into a very real tragedy about the dark side of role-playing and the unpredictable power of narrative itself.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

I’ve had a lifelong fascination with everything related to role-playing games, which is likely why I spent years seeking out all forms of RPG-adjacent media like Dead Gentlemen Production’s The Gamers franchise and even indie documentaries like Monster Camp. However, while there are a handful of similar productions out there, The Wild Hunt stands out by being one of very few “gamer” movies that still stands on its own even if you have no knowledge (or even interest) in the RPG scene.

Despite the feature’s shoestring budget and questionable production value, there’s an undeniable thoughtfulness to the filmmaking here, with Franchifelt effortless transitioning between the intimate conversations of the real world to the Peter-Jackson-inspired extravagance of seeing dozens of costumed fanatics putting on silly accents and threatening each other with foam swords.

In fact, one of the film’s biggest draws is its believable cast of weekend warriors, with recognizable gaming folk like high-and-mighty rules lawyers and even racial minorities that feel slightly out of place turning the experience into a fascinating character study about the kind of person that engages in such a niche hobby. I also appreciate how characters on all sides present hints of toxic masculinity (which is something of a big issue in the gaming scene), with even our protagonist failing to realize that his quest was ultimately rooted in selfishness.

Of course, the delusional weirdo Bjorn is the real star of the show here despite initially coming off as comic-relief, with Krupa giving a deceptively nuanced double performance as both a fearless vessel of Thor (complete with a crummy theater kid accent) as well as a genuinely vulnerable young man desperate to flee from his painful family life.

None of this would matter if there wasn’t an interesting story putting these characters in motion, and that’s where The Wild Hunt’s mythological roots really shine. The age-old premise of a desperate man venturing into the unknown in order to reclaim his beloved from a villainous captor recalls the most memorable Norse Sagas, though the film’s somber final act is almost certainly indebted to Greek tragedies. Hell, Lyn’s in-game kidnapping and the ensuing “war” even feels like an intentionally ironic retelling of Troy.

To be honest, I feel like The Wild Hunt’s lack of a cult following has a lot more to do with its subpar distribution (it’s actually quite difficult to track down a copy of the film internationally) than the film’s overall quality. Sure, the photography stumbles a bit during night scenes and there are some serious pacing issues before we reach the climactic tonal shift of the third act, but the fact remains that this movie deserves more fans.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

You might be surprised to hear that a down-to-earth indie flick about nerdy warriors wearing rubber elf ears contains some unsettling genre elements, but The Wild Hunt is actually a much darker movie than its premise might lead you to believe.

We’ve all met (and possibly made fun of) overly competitive gamers who take their hobbies way too seriously, but when you add in isolation and the social pressures of a communal narrative, you may come to realize that groups like this have a lot in common with cults due to their willingness to spur others into violent action for the sake of a “story.” The Wild Hunt may have a central antagonist in the form of the dark shaman Murtagh (Trevor Hayes), but the real “villain” of the film is the idea that real acts of cruelty can be inspired by mere narratives.

Of course, it’s the film’s third act that really cements it as a tense thriller, with characters forgoing foam swords for fists and torches as the violent spirit that inspired the old sagas claims real world victims. And while I won’t go into detail in order to avoid spoiling the experience for newcomers – suffice to say that there’s some brutal imagery on display towards the final moments of the picture.

The morally ambiguous ensemble, low production value and eventual tonal whiplash are clear signs that The Wild Hunt was never meant to be a crowd-pleaser, but I can’t help but keep coming back to this one whenever I see hardcore fans of any niche hobby engaging in questionable behavior online. Part indie drama, part Lord of the Rings fan-film and all Shakespearean tragedy, I’d recommend this flick to anyone who can appreciate the emotional roller-coaster that is fantasy role-playing.

I also think it would also make for a great double-feature with Joe Lynch’s much more light-hearted Knights of Badassdom!

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Extreme Roleplaying: The Foam Swords and Real Terror of ‘The Wild Hunt’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And with the release of Aardman’s long-awaited Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl, I think this is the perfect moment to look back on the on the unexpected thrills of studio’s surprisingly horror-adjacent work in Wallace & Gromit: The Case of the Were-Rabbit – a film that borrows heavily from some of the all-time best monster movies.

Like most Aardman projects, production on Curse of the Were-Rabbit was a slow and expensive ordeal, with the studio’s second feature film being announced way back in 2000 as The Great Vegetable Plot. After a series of false starts, principal photography would only begin in 2003, with Dreamworks helping to finance production while also giving directors Nick Park and Steve Box notes on how to better adapt British humor for an American audience.

Thankfully, the duo rejected most of these notes as they took decided that the best way to appeal to foreign markets would be to turn Wallace and Gromit’s first feature-length adventure into a horror-inspired thriller that satirized classic monster movies (as well as Hammer Horror pictures). While the folks at Aardman are no strangers to referencing classic cinema in their work, this would be the first time that inspiration would come from a source that their target audience would likely be unfamiliar with.

In the finished film, which was released in late 2005, we follow our titular heroes as they run a successful pest-control company that humanely relocates unwanted animals. When a rabbit-like creature begins ravaging the town’s crops ahead of the upcoming Giant Vegetable Competition, Wallace (Peter Sallis) and Gromit find themselves in the middle of a perilous monster hunt that will test the bounds of their friendship.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

After winning Best Animated Feature at the 78th Academy Awards and raking in $192 million at the box office on a $30 million budget, I don’t think Curse of the Were-Rabbit can really be considered a hidden gem in need of rescuing from obscurity. In fact, cinephiles almost unanimously agreed that Wallace & Gromit’s Oscar win was one of the only things that the Academy did right the year that Crash won Best Picture, all this despite the fact that it was running up against films by Hayao Miyazaki and Tim Burton.

This isn’t all that surprising when you consider that this passion project boasted a shooting process so laborious that the team could only extract three seconds of usable footage per day. And while 2005’s Corpse Bride also featured stunning stop-motion work, Park and Box insisted on taking these old-fashioned techniques to the next level through absurdly intricate action sequences that took literal years to animated – all the while refusing to use digital short-cuts whenever feasible.

Of course, the heart of any Wallace and Gromit story lies in the relationship between our iconic duo, and their first feature-length adventure is no different. It would have been quite easy for the filmmakers to end up making Wallace unlikeable once he begins to ignore his best friend’s concerns due to the love triangle involving Wallace, Lord Quartermaine (Ralph Fiennes) and Lady Tottington (Helena Bonham Carter), but despite their disagreements, our leads remain lovable even at their most aloof.

This is also the first Wallace and Gromit project to really flesh out the town of Wigan, Lancashire by populating it with an eccentric cast of vegetable-loving residents. From the crazed Reverend Hedges (Nicholas Smith) to the fan-favorite Police Constable Mackintosh, these memorable bit parts bring the flick to life in ways that previous Aardman shorts couldn’t afford to do in the past.

This added sense of scale also extends to the movie’s overall atmosphere, with both the unforgettable score by Julian Nott and the insanely detailed production design (which often incorporates subtle background gags such as the hilarious cheese puns on Wallace’s bookcase) pulling you into a world that you’ll soon forget is made out of 2.8 tons of plasticine.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

A creature feature is only as good as its monstrous antagonist, so it’s quite fortunate that both Nick Park and Steve Box are genuine horror fans who saw this project as an opportunity to translate classic werewolf tropes for a younger audience – albeit without toning down any of the associated style and craftsmanship.

From the transformation sequence where Wallace’s hands extend and deform into paws in a cheeky recreation of David Kessler’s ordeal in An American Werewolf in London to the action-packed finale that sees the Were-Rabbit fall from Tottington Hall like King Kong plummeting from the Empire State Building, there are countless nods and even full-on re-imaginings of familiar monster movie moments here.

Even monstrous effects legend Ray Harryhausen paid the set a visit once he heard what the film’s influences were, and I doubt he was disappointed with what he saw. After all, despite the flick’s cutesy veneer, Curse of the Were-Rabbit boasts a handful of legitimately suspenseful sequences that end up making the film even funnier because of how out-of-place they are within the context of a children’s film.

I’m a huge fan of how the first Were-Rabbit attack looks like it was lifted directly from Werewolf of London, and the aforementioned transformation sequence is also incredibly serious right up until the moment where you realize the monster looks like a chunky bunny. Of course, it’s the expertly crafted mood that ties everything together, with the film’s eerie use of shadows and old-timey set design harkening back to a bygone era of Hammer Horror productions in a way that few legitimate horror movies have been able to replicate.

Wallace & Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit is obviously a family picture, featuring no real scares or even notable moments of violence, but there’s an undeniable love and respect for genre filmmaking on display here regardless. That’s why I think horror fans would do well to revisit this 20-year-old thriller with an open mind – especially if you’re trying to get a younger family member into werewolf cinema but don’t want them to be traumatized by Rick Baker’s disturbing effects work.

The post The Monster Movie Thrills of ‘Wallace & Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And as someone who enjoys less glamorized takes on history, today I’d like to look back on Jonathan English’s underappreciated historical action film Ironclad, a 2011 flick that – while not really historically accurate – provides a disturbingly intimate view of a time when combat meant having to look your opponent in the eyes as your cleave their head in half and bathe in their fresh, steaming blood.

Funnily enough, the story of Ironclad begins during the 2008 recession, with the independent production company Mythic attempting to find investors for a big-budget historical epic starring Megan Fox. Of course, large-scale funding was nearly impossible to secure after the market collapse, so the folks at Mythic decided to rework their pitch into a smaller siege story featuring less characters and locations.

Even with a reduced budget, the retitled Ironclad still required nearly 20 executive producers to get the cinematic ball rolling, with most of the $25 million budget going towards the cast as well as the construction of a life-size replica of Rochester castle in southern Wales. In fact, as of 2009, Ironclad was known as the most expensive indie production to ever film in Wales.

While the finished film was marketed as something akin to a feature-length fantasy-metal music video (with a tagline boasting “Heavy Metal Goes Medieval!”), the actual plot is much more nuanced than its distributors would have you believe. Starring Solomon Kane’s James Purefoy as Thomas Marshall, Ironclad follows a disgraced Templar Knight who finds himself in the middle of a brutal conflict between the Barons of England and the cruel King John (Paul Giamatti). Realizing that John and his mercenary army must be stopped before they reach London, our haunted protagonist reluctantly joins a small group of rebels in an action-packed retelling of the real-life siege of Rochester Castle.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Ironclad may not have been the blockbuster hit that Mythic was originally hoping for, with most mainstream critics dismissing the flick as yet another forgettable entry in that short-lived wave of mid-budget historical action flicks in the vein of Centurion, The Eagle and Pathfinder, but it still found plenty of fans in the home video market.

Personally, while I admit that the film is deeply flawed in its execution, most of its structural and narrative issues are more than made up for by the sheer cinematic energy on display as English disguises an indie production as an epic war movie. It may not always work (the transition from mediocre love story to one of the best medieval action sequences of all time is so sudden that it’ll likely give you whiplash), but there’s plenty to like here if you can handle some shaky camerawork and cheap CGI disguising the production’s lack of resources.

For starters, we have a legitimately compelling protagonist in the form of James Purefoy’s tortured Templar. From Marshall’s reckless acts of suicidal bravery to his wartime PTSD that harkens back to haunted action heroes like John Rambo, English and Purefoy make it easy to root for our Dane-slaying protagonist despite his lack of traditionally heroic traits.

And speaking of actors, there’s also the matter of the film’s arguably overqualified cast. Paul Giamatti gives a deliciously hateable performance as King John (making a classic historical villain even more detestable), but I also really enjoyed Brian Cox as the steadfast Baron William d’Aubigny that leads the good guys against tyranny. The script doesn’t exactly make the most of these secondary characters – and don’t even get me started on how most of these people died in different times/places in real life – but it’s clear that everyone took their roles seriously. Hell, Daniel O’Meara even ate a live beetle on camera during the starvation sequence!

Lastly, I also appreciate how the film’s less-than-epic budget forced the filmmakers to rely on physical locations and smaller, more realistic battles instead of trying to recreate a poor man’s version of The Battle of Helm’s Deep like you see in most other medieval action flicks.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Despite its overall viciousness, Ironclad likely won’t be frightening anyone anytime soon. That being said, there’s no denying that the film’s visceral use of violence and suspense makes it stand out amongst its historical action peers. In fact, I haven’t seen this much brutal dismemberment in any other film in this genre, with English shooting the carnage in ways that make it clear that, during wartime, even the good guys are monsters.

Of course, the best part is that nearly all this maiming is done practically, with every swing of our lead’s sword carrying a devastating amount of weight. The director also uses a few exceedingly nasty moments (like the torture sequence where King John dismembers d’Aubigny in front of his men) as a way of rallying the audience’s emotions in case you’re starting to get desensitized. Cinematographer David Eggby (who shot the original Mad Max) even went so far as to disguise cameramen as extras during battle sequences in order to get more intimate footage of the horrors of war – an idea that goes a long way on a small budget.

The film also benefits from the claustrophobic tension created by the siege itself, with the Dane invaders often feeling more like a mindless horde of undead warriors than regular soldiers – something that the film has in common with its most obvious inspiration, John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13. You really get the sense that these hardened soldiers are scared out of their minds, with some of our protagonists being driven to suicide while others discuss how it might be more merciful to kill the women in the castle before the enemy can reach them.

Ironclad isn’t exactly a misunderstood classic, suffering from an overstuffed script, uneven pacing and questionable production value, but there’s an undeniable passion for filmmaking both in front of and behind the cameras here. That’s why I’d recommend this 2011 gem to fans of hyper-violent siege films who don’t mind the occasional historical inaccuracy.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Heavy Metal Goes Medieval: Revisiting the Violent Action of ‘Ironclad’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

However, after making it big in the ’90s with The Nightmare Before Christmas (as well as the less successful but still entertaining James and the Giant Peach), Selick decided that it was time to try his luck with live-action storytelling, a decision that led to the infamous 2001 flop Monkeybone. However, despite the film’s reputation as a nearly incomprehensible mess, today I’d like to discuss how this oddball production might still appeal to modern-day horror fans.

Before Monkeybone there was Kaja Blackley’s Dark Town. An indie comic-book about a man who gets into a car accident and wakes up in a nightmarish land ruled by puppets, this critical darling miraculously reached Hollywood through a dedicated fan despite Kaja only ever releasing a single issue that ended on a cliffhanger. Once Selick received a copy of the comic through one of his producers, the director began securing funding for what he thought was going to be one of his most personal projects yet.

Unfortunately, the higher-ups were unsure if Selick’s talents would translate well to a live-action environment and began meddling in the production. That’s how a film that was originally meant to be an exceedingly dark and faithful recreation of the source material was slowly transformed into a crowd-pleasing blockbuster more akin to a poor man’s The Mask. The studio even wrenched control away from Selick during the editing phase, removing crucial pieces of worldbuilding and character development in order to streamline the experience.

In the “finished” film, which was released with little marketing buzz in February of 2001, Brendan Fraser stars as Stu, a weary cartoonist who finally achieved success by producing an animated series about his most personal creation, the mischievous Monkeybone (voiced by John Turturro). After getting into a car accident, Stu enters a coma and awakens in Down Town – a carnivalesque afterlife populated by nightmares, gods and figments of the waking world’s imagination. Once there, our hero reluctantly partners with Monkeybone himself and embarks on a twisted quest to return to his body before his estranged sister literally “pulls the plug.”

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Even two decades later, Monkeybone is still remembered as one of Hollywood’s most infamous failures, with the film raking in less than $8 million on a $75 million budget and displeasing mainstream critics. Selick himself actually disowns the movie, claiming that the story that made it onto cinema screens back in 2001 wasn’t the story he initially set out to tell. He even says that the experience was so bad that it made him swear off live-action filmmaking for good.

And yet, the film that did make it into theaters was still a madly creative romp that juggled low-brow humor with the occasional flash of cinematic brilliance. If you look at each scene individually, this hybrid production features some legitimately impressive visuals, boasting chaotic character designs and effects (like strangely disproportionate monsters and even Giancarlo Esposito’s demonic take on Hypnos) that still hold up today.

In fact, the stylish production design only really falters during scenes taking place in the real world – which makes sense when you remember that these were likely much easier for producers to mess with. Thankfully, Brendan Fraser does his best to make even these moments entertaining (or at the very least interesting), especially when Monkeybone takes over Stu’s body and we get to see Fraser act like an uncomfortably horny version of George of the Jungle.

And speaking of Fraser, the film also somehow features one of the best comedic ensembles of the early 2000s, with Selick managing to recruit heavy hitters like Whoopie Goldberg, Thomas Haden Church, Chris Kattan, and even Bob Odenkirk (as well as the previously mentioned Esposito) in small yet memorable roles that add even more character to a film that’s already oozing with personality.

It may not make a ton of sense, but Monkeybone is far from a bad movie – it’s just an incomplete one.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Despite the dark source material that explores concepts like mortality and the eerie side of imagination, Monkeybone is still technically a family picture (though you’d be forgiven for forgetting that due to the bizarre amount of sexual innuendo on display here). However, it’s always difficult for genre veterans completely avoid horrific elements in non-horror projects, and that’s why I still recommend Selick’s film for horror fans with a taste for the strange.

After all, the main plot ultimately revolves around the god of dreams wanting to flood the world with nightmares, and there are more creepy monster designs here than in most popular creature features. There’s also no shortage of stories about young children who left theaters traumatized after the “silly monkey movie” turned out to be a dark comedy filled with demons, grim reapers and a slight amount of body horror.

Hell, one of the highlights of the flick is a chase scene involving doctors attempting to recover organs from a re-animated corpse! There’s also a memorable sequence where Stu runs into fellow haunted storytellers who were betrayed by their creations, with everyone from Edgar Allan Poe to Stephen King (who was played by a body-double due to scheduling issues) being kept in a metaphysical prison.

We may never know for sure if the original version of Monkeybone was truly a superior film (I’ll personally never give up hope on a possible director’s cut), but even if this chaotic quilt of a final cut is all we get, there’s enough creativity here to make it worth trudging through nonsensical editing and uneven humor in order to get to the good bits.

I mean, what other kid’s film claims that the dog from Cujo is currently residing in Stephen King’s body?

The post Returning to Down Town: Was Henry Selick’s Bizarre Dark Comedy ‘Monkeybone’ Really That Bad? appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

This genre influence extends to big-screen adaptations as well, with even Christopher Nolan’s hyper-realistic re-imagining of Batman featuring its fair share of horrific moments (especially in the first entry of the Dark Knight trilogy). However, I’d argue that one of the darkest and most entertaining Batman adaptations isn’t even in live action. Naturally, I’m referring to 2021’s two-part animated epic, Batman: The Long Halloween – a surprisingly gloomy super-hero story that I think will especially appeal to horror fans.

Despite their polarizing big screen adaptations, DC has quite the impressive track record when it comes to animated films based on their characters. In fact, there have been multiple iterations of the DCAU, with The Long Halloween taking place in the very same Tomorrowverse that just recently concluded with the Crisis on Infinite Earths crossover.

The first (and only) solo Batman project of the Tomorrowverse, The Long Halloween is a direct adaptation of the 1997 comic-book of the same name – a legendary mini-series by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale that not only revitalized Batman’s extended family of villains but also inspired nearly every single live-action adaptation to come (with the story even serving as the basis for what is widely considered one of the best superhero movies of all time, 2008’s The Dark Knight).

Directed by Chris Palmer, the animated version of Batman: The Long Halloween is an extremely faithful recreation of the comic, with the story following Batman/Bruce Wayne (lovingly played by Supernatural’s Jensen Ackles) as he joins forces with Commissioner Gordon (Billy Burke) and District Attorney Harvey Dent (Josh Duhamel) in an attempt to track down a serial killer hell-bent on murdering high-ranking members of the Gotham City underworld.

And as the bodies begin to pile in Holiday-themed executions, a monstrous new class of criminal emerges from the shadows.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

It’s hard to make a bad meal out of good ingredients, and since we’ve established that The Long Halloween is one hell of a good comic-book story, it stands to reason that a faithful adaptation would be a decent watch. Thankfully, Palmer’s film doesn’t settle for “decent,” with the flick going all-out on atmosphere and presentation as it dives into an iconic whodunnit.

The Warner Bros. Animation team made sure to drench the entire production in an appropriately gloomy atmosphere, and the villainous redesigns are excellently done. The film’s visuals may not be quite as striking as Sale’s highly detailed artwork (with the simplified Tomorrowverse art style taking some getting used to) but the art direction and excellent voice acting soon make it clear that this isn’t exactly a Saturday morning cartoon.

From rain-slicked streets to grimy back alleys, Gotham is as alive and dreary as ever here, with this year’s worth of serial killer investigating allowing audiences to explore the cursed city alongside the Dark Knight himself. I know it’s a cliché to claim that “the setting is a character in and of itself,” but it’s hard to argue against that notion when this story is technically about crimefighters and madmen fighting over the city’s soul.

And with heavy hitters like Troy Baker and even David Dastmalchian making up the villainous ensemble scrambling after pieces of the Gotham pie, you get the feeling that maybe Warner Bros. should have invested in a wide release. And on a personal note, it was incredibly satisfying to see Ackles fulfill his life-long dream of playing Batman even if it wasn’t in live-action.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

It should come as no surprise that a film called The Long Halloween features plenty of eerie visuals and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it genre references, but the real seasonal treat here is watching a Godfather-inspired mob flick gradually give way to an all-out monster movie.

That’s why The Long Halloween makes the most of the genre inspirations behind spooky characters like Scarecrow, Poison Ivy and even the undead Solomon Grundy, with these iconic freaks slowly taking over the power vacuum created by the Holiday killer and suggesting that the city itself has lost its mind.

Sure, the majority of the experience is still a neo-noir investigation concerning dead mobsters and their internal family drama, but the grounded approach to fantastical horrors and the surprisingly realistic antagonist puts the film closer to horrific classics like Se7en and Silence of the Lambs rather than your average police procedural. Hell, Calendar Man even gets to shine as this story’s version of Hannibal Lecter, aiding Batman from behind bars with insights about the killer’s motivations.

I’ll concede that this ambitious adaptation doesn’t quite capture the same grungy atmosphere and exceptionally developed characters of the original comic-book (with even a three-hour run-time feeling a bit rushed when the script has to cover a year’s worth of story), but I still think that this is one of the best Batman adaptations so far. And it works even better if you consider it a middle chapter in between DC’s previous animated adaptations of Batman: Year One and The Dark Knight Returns.

So if you’re up for some investigative thrills this spooky season, I’d highly recommend checking out Batman: The Long Halloween – especially if you can get your hands on the R-rated Deluxe Edition which combines both halves of the story into a single thrilling experience.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Batman: The Long Halloween’ – Revisiting the Darkest Caped Crusader Movie appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And yet, we remain fascinated with the idea of invisible bogeymen living among us during the day and committing terrible acts of murder at night – which is likely why there are so many psycho-focused genre films out there. And with such a huge backlog of (usually psychologically inaccurate) stories about mentally ill killers, it was only a matter of time before clever filmmakers began subverting the tropes that surround our favorite ne’er-do-wells. Among these satirical productions, I think one of the most underrated happens to be Martin McDonagh’s darkly humorous thriller Seven Psychopaths.

An award-winning playwright and filmmaker, McDonagh is no stranger to the clichés that often populate stories about serial killers and hitmen. From early plays like The Lonesome West to classic crime films like In Bruges, the British-Irish director has been incorporating gruesome murder into his stories throughout his entire career. That’s why it’s no surprise that he’d eventually decide to turn these concepts on their heads by exploring why he and his ravenous audience are so fascinated by deranged characters and their bloody exploits in the first place.

Funnily enough, he’d actually complete the screenplay for this meta project long before he directed his debut feature, with the script for Seven Psychopaths actually having been featured on the 2006 Blacklist. However, it was only after achieving mainstream notoriety with In Bruges (not to mention his Academy-Award-Winning short film Six-Shooter) that McDonagh was able to recruit an ensemble meant to flesh out his titular Psychopaths. This star-studded team would include frequent collaborator Colin Farrell, Sam Rockwell, Woody Harrelson and the one-and-only Christopher Walken, with the movie finally starting production in 2011.

Premiering in late 2012, the finished film follows alcoholic writer Marty (Farrell) as he struggles to develop a screenplay titled Seven Psychopaths. Meanwhile, his best friend and out-of-work actor Billy (Sam Rockwell) is engaged in a money-making scheme where he and his religious accomplice kidnap dogs and then return them for the reward money. When Billy and Hans kidnap a shih-tzu belonging to ruthless mob boss Charlie Costello (Woody Harrelson), reality and fiction collide as Marty unwittingly becomes embroiled in a real-life confrontation between psychotic killers.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH A WATCH?

With seven academy award nominations to his name, McDonagh is certainly no underdog and his films don’t need any defending. However, there is a certain stigma associated with high-profile “cult films” where some genre fans perceive them as being pretentious slogs with little-to-no entertainment value. That’s why I’d like to point out that Seven Psychopaths is just as fun as it is smart, and I think audiences might enjoy the ride even if they don’t usually connect with this kind of production.

It’s possible to deconstruct an idea so much that it breaks, a phenomenon that we’ve seen frequently in popular media as well-intentioned creators attempt to challenge the status quo by denouncing everything that came before. Thankfully, McDonagh seems to have genuine love for the material that he’s satirizing, as the film isn’t content with merely criticizing the idea of exaggerated movie psychopaths. Instead, the script actually explores the flexible morality and hypothetical inner lives that this kind of person would need to have in order to behave like this. And while these characters may not always represent real people, they certainly feel real due to their three-dimensional emotional cores.

From the central plot involving a violent mob boss willing to do anything in order to recover his beloved dog to the budding friendship that develops between deeply troubled men as they retreat to the desert, Seven Psychopaths exists in a middle ground between the hyper-reality of a Tarantino flick and a psychologically realistic character study. Of course, this combination only works because of the humor, with McDonagh flexing his comedy muscles in order to bring us some of the wittiest dialogue of his career (“You think I’m not serious just because I carry a rabbit?”).

As if that wasn’t enough, you also get to see one of the greatest cinematic ensembles of all time mingling in deeply strange situations. I mean, there’s a reason why that infamous scene where Christopher Walken refuses to play along with a gun-toting villain has become such a widespread meme, and do I even need to mention how Rockwell steals the show with his manic performance?

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

From Commando to John Wick, we’ve become so desensitized to homicidal cool guys that we don’t even register them as murderers anymore. That’s exactly what McDonagh is trying to explore here as Marty develops his screenplay and accidentally ends up entering a complicated world where everyone has a different excuse for the horrible things that they do.

Hans’ dark backstory about how he enacted a disturbing and time-consuming revenge on his daughter’s killer deeply contrasts with the melancholy man that we actually meet in the film. I’m also fascinated by the serial-killer-killing duo of Tom Waits and Amanda Warren, with their rampage as they execute infamous real-life monsters like the Texarkana Moonlight Murderer and the Zodiac Killer feeling like a cathartic exercise about empowering the victims who are usually sidelined when these stories are sensationalized by the media.

Many of these situations are depicted in a humorous manner, with certain character deaths and plot points (like the reveal that Billy himself is also a killer) coming off as gags rather than genuinely horrific moments, but Seven Psychopaths always finds a way to catch us off guard with a tender beat here and there as we focus on the victims of a senseless rampage sparked by a single missing pet.

Much like In Bruges, or even his most recent film The Banshees of Inisherin, your enjoyment of Seven Psychopaths will mostly depend on how well you resonate with McDonagh’s particular brand of deadpan humor. In all honesty, I didn’t actually like the film very much the first time I saw it, as I was expecting a comedy thriller with a meta twist rather than a genuinely thoughtful exploration of media with a high body-count. However, after revisiting the film years later with zero expectations, I found myself appreciating the experience as one of McDonagh’s most entertaining movies.

So if you’re up for ironic shoot-outs, thought-provoking vignettes and highly-quotable dialogue, I’d highly recommend checking out the one crime thriller where you actually wish the characters had more time to hang out instead of taking part in climactic stand-offs.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Looking Back on the Humorous Meta-Murder of ‘Seven Psychopaths’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

There’s a similar inter-genre connection in the world of film, as many scholars have noticed a pattern where horror filmmakers eventually move onto bigger and more expensive fantasy projects. From Cannibal Holocaust’s Ruggero Deodato directing 1987’s The Barbarians to B-movie maestro Peter Jackson helming the Lord of the Rings trilogy, it seems like the horror genre somehow produces the best fantasy storytellers. However, today I’d like to discuss a particularly strange sword and sorcery flick directed by none other than Phantasm’s Don Coscarelli. Naturally, I’m referring to 1982’s wonderfully schlocky The Beastmaster – a film that I think deserves more love from horror fans.

The Beastmaster began life as an adapted screenplay written by Coscarelli and his frequent collaborator Paul Pepperman soon after the success of Phantasm. While it was technically based on the novel of the same name by Andre Norton, the filmmaking duo ended up rewriting so much of the original story (which featured a Navajo war veteran that could communicate with genetically engineered animals in a sci-fi future) that the author demanded to have her name removed from the project.

After two years attempting to find funding in Europe, Coscarelli set about one of the toughest directing jobs of his career. Not only did the $9 million budget make it difficult to bring a thriving fantasy world to life on camera, but the titular beasts made the entire shoot a waking nightmare. For starters, a Russian bear escaped its wrangler on Marc Singer’s first day of shooting, and that’s not even mentioning the stubborn eagle that refused to fly on command or the 25 ferrets that had to be prepped for filming at all times. However, after five and a half grueling months (and more than one near-death experience), production wrapped on what was optimistically seen as a rival to John Millius’ Conan the Barbarian adaptation.

In the finished film, we follow Marc Singer as Dar, the King’s first-born son who’s kidnapped by a witch following orders from the mad priest Maax (Rip Torn). Rescued and adopted by a resident of Emur village, the boy eventually grows up and discovers that he’s somehow able to communicate with wild animals. When the village is destroyed by a horde of Jun barbarians allied with Maax, Dar recruits a party of animal companions and sets out on a quest for revenge.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH A WATCH?

I’ve always had a soft spot for cheap fantasy filmmaking. While I enjoy glossy blockbusters like the recent Dungeons & Dragons adaptation as much as the next nerd, the fact is that I find it more fun to watch a cinematic underdog attempt to bring a magical world to life without the help of a millionaire effects budget. And among epic B-movies, The Beastmaster is certainly one of the most entertaining.

From the bonkers action scenes where ferrets, painted tigers and eagles attack frightened stuntmen and leave you wondering “how the hell did they get this on camera?” to the flick’s surprisingly spooky magical elements, there’s never a dull moment here as we see Coscarelli flex the same creative muscles that made Phantasm such a memorable experience.

The movie relies on some absurd cinematic trickery in order to get past its low budget, like using POV shots to avoid showing expensive/dangerous stunts or passing off still photography as real footage when an animal refuses to lie still for a death scene, but these moments come together in the same way as the B-movie elements of the original Star Wars (which is why I think it’s still the most enjoyable entry in the franchise). And while the worldbuilding behind the Kingdom of Aruk isn’t as fleshed out as something written by Tolkien, the impressive sets, detailed miniatures and desertic California imagery breathe life into what could have easily been a visually unappealing slog.

The experience also benefits from a memorable ensemble. Sure, none of these thespians could ever match the legendary casting of James Earl Jones and Arnold Schwarzenegger in Conan, but Marc Singer’s natural charisma is one of Beastmaster’s greatest assets. His hair may look silly and the dialogue has too many made-up nouns (not to mention the character’s uncomfortably horny tendencies), but Singer somehow makes it work through sheer charm. I also appreciate both Rip Torn and John Amos’s hammy performances here, with both actors feeling like they’re having the time of their lives in a live-action D&D campaign. And do I even need to bring up the incredibly talented Tanya Roberts?

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

The behind-the-scenes stories about the art department having to dye four different tigers black while crew members hid from rampaging bears are already the stuff of nightmares, but Coscarelli’s horror pedigree also resulted in The Beastmaster feeling oddly terrifying at times.

While the story’s general tone is adventurous and sometimes even playful, the film occasionally takes a sharp turn into unexpectedly mean-spirited territory. From warlocks sacrificing children over open flames to upsetting death scenes where genuinely terrified actors appear to be mauled by wild animals, there’s plenty of dark material for horror fans here.

Of course, the highlight of the experience might very well be The Beastmaster’s use of fantastical antagonists enhanced by practical effects. For starters, the Death Guards’ getup may look like cheap BDSM gear, but their tragic origins as tortured prisoners that were magically lobotomized and turned into living weapons is downright disturbing. I also really dig the Winged Devourers – bat-like monsters that feel like they would be right at home in the Satanic-Panic-inducing pages of an old D&D bestiary. There are even a handful of weirdly sexualized hags that serve as Maax’s freaky minions!

Some audiences might find The Beastmaster’s low production value and crazy storytelling grating rather than endearing, but I think it’s a damn shame that Coscarelli was never given the chance to work on more fantasy films – preferably with a higher budget. And in a world where epic adventures are usually held back by PG-13 ratings and studios scared of alienating advertisers, I think we can all appreciate a light-hearted fantasy romp where one of the main antagonists looks like Jason Voorhees at a LARP session and our hero is saved by freaky demons that digest their victims between leathery wings.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘The Beastmaster’ – Don Coscarelli’s Wonderfully Schlocky ‘Phantasm’ Follow-Up appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Often referred to as the dumb man’s Dirty Harry, 1986’s Cobra is mostly remembered as a humorous misstep in Stallone’s vast filmography. However, with modern cinema’s disappointing (albeit understandable) lack of over-the-top crime thrillers that pit rogue cops against sensationalized threats pulled directly rom the headlines, I think this is the perfect time to look back on an oddball production and possibly reevaluate it as a genuinely entertaining piece of horror-adjacent fiction.

Now back to our story, Sly Stallone was only emboldened by Paramount’s rejection, deciding to rework his unused script into an original project while also incorporating elements from Paula Gosling’s crime novel Fair Game. He then recruited Greek-Italian filmmaker George Cosmatos (father of Mandy director Panos Cosmatos!) to bring his vision to life, having already worked with the director on First Blood: Part II.

Unfortunately, the partnership wouldn’t go as smoothly this time around, with Cobra’s production becoming fraught with frequent delays, squabbling actors as well as hastily rewritten set-pieces. In fact, there’s a long-standing rumor (which has all but been confirmed by multiple crewmembers at this point) that Stallone directed the majority of the film himself, with Cosmatos merely taking on producer’s duties when he found himself unable to deal with the actor’s inflated ego.

We’ll never know what Cosmato’s original vision of Cobra would have been like, but the finished film (which was released in May of 1986) tells the story of Zombie Squad veteran Lt. Marion “Cobra” Cobretti as he investigates a Los Angeles murder cult led by the sadistic Night Slasher (Brian Thompson). While this premise doesn’t sound that outrageous on paper, words can’t describe just how batshit crazy the film can get despite such a simple setup.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

I’ll admit that you need to have an acquired a taste for offbeat media to really appreciate the Cobra experience (which most critics didn’t have, judging by the film’s 18% rating on Rotten Tomatoes), but as a fan of Troma films and Syfy originals, I can confidently claim that very few motion pictures can compete with this quintessential piece of ’80s schlock when it comes to sheer entertainment value.

A genuinely captivating collection of dopey one-liners and trope-heavy action, the film feels more like the exaggerated memory of a balls-to-the-wall action flick from the ’80s than the real thing. From the Night Slasher’s custom-made murder-knife to Cobretti’s love of badass vehicles, every decision here seems to have been made while abiding to the rule of cool, with the production focusing more on developing a unique style than a solid narrative.

That’s why I consider this to be one of the all-time best hangout movies despite its billing as a hyper-violent crime thriller – though that might have something to do with the fact that Stallone himself removed several plot-heavy scenes involving side characters in order to shorten the runtime and guarantee more daily showings in theaters.

Of course, there’s plenty evidence that the film’s near-self-conscious reliance on macho aesthetics and cartoony stereotypes seems to have been planned from the get-go. Thompson (who famously wasn’t invited to the film’s premiere) actually asked Stallone for guidance surrounding the Night Slasher’s backstory and motivations, with the movie star replying that the Slasher was ‘simply evil’. A straightforward explanation for a straightforward movie.

At the end of the day, Cobra has the same appeal as that microdosing artist friend that you can only stand to see once a year but think about frequently – a quirky character that you love precisely because of their memorable faults. That’s why cinematic oddities like the iconic pizza-scissors scene just make me enjoy the film even more.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

It may sound silly to modern audiences, but Cobra’s central conflict about a badass cop hot on the trail of a murder cult has clear connections to the Satanic Panic, with Stallone tapping into widespread fears that were intensified by the advent of the heavily publicized serial killers of the ’80s.

The Night Slasher himself is obviously based on Richard Ramirez, and the only reason his murderous antics don’t come off as downright disturbing is the fact that the movie surrounding these horrific moments is so damn silly with its outdated morals and childish bravado. However, taken at face value, this is a story about a serial killer convincing disenfranchised youth to partake in homicidal eugenics, so it stands to reason that his scenes are easily some of the scariest in the genre.

You can even forgive Cobra’s bizarre editing when you realize that a significant amount of footage is missing here due to the MPAA originally slapping an X-rating on the first cut. And while fans would later come across a bootleg edition of the movie which restored about an hour’s worth of material (including more graphic deaths and added character moments), it’s understood that this still isn’t quite the film that Stallone and company originally set out to make.

Of course, regardless of which version you choose to see, the movie remains a highly rewatchable gem precisely because of its juxtaposition of extreme brutality and hip visual design. Hell, even celebrated directors like Nicolas Winding Refn have cited Cobra as a source of inspiration, and that’s not even mentioning the countless video games that have clearly been influenced by its gritty aesthetics.

Sure, the film is by no means a masterpiece, but movies don’t actually have to be good in order to provide us with a good time, and I can’t think of a better time than watching Sly Stallone punching his supervisor in the face before riding off into the sunset like a leather-clad cowboy. So if you’re ever in the mood for a serial killer thriller starring a ridiculously cool loose canon cop with nothing to lose, why not revisit one of the coolest (and silliest) action flicks ever made?

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However, this doesn’t mean that older animated films avoided mature themes and experimental narratives – it’s just that many of these movies turned out to be huge flops, with the very best of them destined to become cult classics decades after they underperformed at the box-office. And when it comes to animated flops, there are few films more remarkable than Clive A. Smith’s beautiful disaster, 1983’s Rock & Rule. An unprecedented financial failure, this oddball rock opera would go on to entertain fans of weird cinema for decades to come as they slowly discovered the flick through underground word-of-mouth and midnight showings – which is exactly why I think it’s a perfect candidate for today’s Horror Adjacent.

The strange story of Rock & Rule begins in 1978, with Canadian production company Nelvana (best known for wholesome cartoons like Care Bears) deciding to develop a large-scale project in order to prove that Canada could compete with the US animation industry. While the studio was given the chance to work on the then-upcoming Heavy Metal, Nelvana instead chose to produce a more kid-friendly musical named Drats! which would follow a rock band comprised by mice living in the distant future.

However, a series of narrative revisions resulted in the project pivoting towards a more mature audience, with the story gradually becoming darker, the animals less cutesy and the soundtrack more intense. Renamed to Rock & Rule, the film nearly drove Nelvana out of business as its budget ballooned and big-name performers like Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, Cheap Trick and Earth, Wind & Fire were brought in to work on an original soundtrack.

In the finished film, which takes place in a post-apocalyptic world dominated by anthropomorphic animals, we follow aspiring singers and conflicted lovers Omar (Greg Salata/Paul Le Mat/Robin Zander) and Angel (Susan Roman/Debbie Harry) as they become involved in a supernatural scheme orchestrated by aging rock star Mok Swagger (Don Francks/Lou Reed/Iggy Pop). When Mok kidnaps Angel in order to use her in a ritual to summon an interdimensional demon, Omar teams up with the rest of the band and embarks on a quest to save his partner – and the world.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

While most cinephiles are aware that you shouldn’t equate box-office success with a film’s quality, you’d be forgiven for immediately disregarding a movie that only grossed a little over $30,000 on a budget of $8 million. However, I’m pleased to say that Rock & Rule’s bafflingly low box office numbers had more to do with a botched marketing campaign and a limited release than the film itself.

After all, the flick managed to impress even the harshest critics at the time with its energetic visuals and unique tone, though many of them pointed out that it was a little too ahead of its time. The animation alone was stunning with its use of state-of-the-art lighting and visual effects combined with meticulously detailed pencilwork. And while the mutant animal designs were deemed unsightly by general audiences, there’s no denying that every single character here is visually memorable.

That’s not even mentioning the eerily beautiful backdrops and dystopic cityscapes that make up the film’s deeply immersive world. In hindsight, the film’s setting feels more like a warped version of the 80s than the distant future, but I think that only adds to the retro charms of an already fascinating production.

Of course, the main attraction here is the killer soundtrack, which thankfully does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to telling the story. The script may be loaded with enough structural flaws to bring down a skyscraper (not to mention an inexplicably unlikeable protagonist), but it’s hard to dislike a movie when you’re constantly grooving to memorable tunes accompanied by jaw-dropping artwork.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Whether it’s the grimy post-apocalyptic dystopia or the less-than-human characters that can’t quite make their way out of the the uncanny valley, Rock & Rule is an admittedly unsettling watch if you’re not prepared for 77 minutes of pure strangeness. However, I think the film boasts even darker elements that are likely to appeal to horror fans.

I mean, the story is basically about a Mick Jagger lookalike attempting to summon an eldritch god through the power of music (with the otherworldly beast being brought to life through ten different kinds of psychedelic special effects), but it can also be interpreted as a grim cautionary tale about how the entertainment industry takes advantage of up-and-coming artists and distorts their “voices.”

There’s also the matter of the flick’s surprisingly bleak worldbuilding. The film explains that nuclear war killed off all the humans and left animals to take their place in the radioactive aftermath, but this information doesn’t really factor into the main story. In fact, one could easily assume that this is just another cartoon world populated by anthropomorphic animals if it wasn’t for the bizarre inclusion of grotesque mutants that continue to attack civilized society years after the bombs fell.

It’s decisions like these that make me think the filmmakers were actively trying to subvert the Disney formula by intentionally making the experience feel unhinged and slightly off-putting. While the movie isn’t nearly as dark as some other animated features from the time, I think there’s a reason why so few kids flocked to theaters to check this one out back in 1983.

Rock & Rule definitely isn’t for everyone. The messy storytelling and odd subject matter will likely scare off mainstream audiences, and you’d be forgiven for skipping the movie entirely solely based on its ugly character designs. However, those who can stomach a little bit of surreal magic alongside their animated musicals might agree with me when I say that this is one of the greatest midnight movies of all time – especially when paired with 1981’s equally strange Heavy Metal.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Diving into the Musical Madness of 1983’s Rock Opera ‘Rock & Rule’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Hot off the success of 2009’s surprisingly profitable My Bloody Valentine 3D (which I’d argue is one of the best horror remakes of the 2000s), director Patrick Lussier wanted to keep experimenting with new 3D technology in a more action-packed cinematic playground. Inspired by the sleazy exploitation flicks of the 70s (as well as classics like Vanishing Point and The French Connection), Lussier and frequent collaborator Todd Farmer came up with a story about an elderly man escaping hell in order to exact revenge on an evil cult.

Executives were already impressed with Lussier’s work on MBV3D, so the studio set aside a much larger budget for his next 3D project. While this support would be enough to finance more elaborate gore effects (courtesy of Hellraiser veteran Gary J. Tunnicliffe), not to mention quite a few practical car explosions, it wasn’t quite enough to allow Lussier to bring the hyper-reality of his and Farmer’s story to life in the way they had originally envisioned.

Thankfully, Nicolas Cage became interested in the production once it was confirmed that that the film would carry a hard R rating. The actor had previously been disappointed with projects like Season of the Witch, where a solid adult-oriented script had been butchered by producers looking to cash in on the PG-13 demographic, so he relished the opportunity to act in something a bit more violent. Farmer would then rewrite the main character to better match Cage, which I think worked out to the movie’s benefit.

In the finished film, we follow Nicolas Cage as the cheekily named John Milton, a man who escapes from hell with a soul-destroying gun in order to hunt down the cult leader (Billy Burke) that murdered his daughter and kidnapped her child. Along the way, he’s helped by runaway waitress Piper (Amber Heard) and her 1969 Dodge Charger, with the duo being hunted by a mysterious supernatural figure known only as “The Accountant” (William Fichtner).

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Drive Angry had the rotten luck of releasing during the early year dead zone at a time when audiences were already starting to get jaded with the 3D gimmick (which might have something to do with the absurd amount of blockbusters relying on haphazard post-conversion technology rather than actual stereoscopic cameras). And yet, even critics who despised the film admitted that it was destined to find success among the midnight movie crowd – and they were right.

In fact, I think there’s plenty to love about this high-octane adventure. It may not have the same charmingly grimy aesthetic as Rodriguez and Tarantino’s Grindhouse (or even the criminally underrated Hobo with a Shotgun), but Drive Angry is still haunted by the spirit of a low-brow 70s genre flick. From the ironic use of tropes to the excessively mean-spirited action, you get the feeling that this exact same script could have been produced half a century ago (though cheap film stock and a complete lack of CGI would probably have resulted in a more entertaining final product).

The action itself is also remarkable when you consider the film’s budget. Sure, many of the set-pieces feel cheap, with the villain’s main vehicle being an easily replaceable RV and some of the more expensive stunts being brought to life through dated-as-hell CGI, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen so much practical vehicular carnage outside of a $100 million production.

There’s also Cage himself, with the actor delivering a surprisingly subdued performance as a hardened badass with a heart of gold. While he doesn’t scream like an unhinged banshee or even pee fire in this one, you’d have to be a pretty jaded cinephile to resist cracking a smile when you see Cage intentionally drive his car through a satanic bonfire in order to turn the vehicle into a flaming battering ram.

Lastly, I’m a fan of the flick’s badass soundtrack, though your mileage may vary depending on how much you enjoy dad rock (which is appropriate, considering that this is one of Axl Rose’s favorite movies).

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

While it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why a film about a guy literally escaping from hell in order to fight Satanists would be a horror adjacent experience, Drive Angry warrants discussion due to the fact that it was made by a team that already excelled at genre storytelling.

From the cartoonishly entertaining gore effects (which are even more fun in three dimensions) to the gratuitously evil villain, horror fans are going to have a field day with this one. I also love how the filmmakers allow Cage’s character to get just as bloody and messed up as his enemies throughout the flick’s many shoot-outs. And if that’s not enough to justify the movie’s genre pedigree, we even get to see Tom Atkins in a brief role as a sheriff out for blood!

There’s also the interesting supernatural mythology here. While it’s not exactly Hellblazer levels of lore, the film sets up some interesting concepts surrounding the nature of the Devil and his annoyance with satanic sacrifices that give him a bad name. And while Burke gave a fun performance as a Manson-inspired maniac, Fichtner’s Accountant is the most fascinating character here besides Milton himself, with his impartial demeanor and magical coin heavily implying that he’s actually supposed to be Death.

Equal parts Supernatural and Fast & Furious (while also feeling like an unofficial Ghost Rider spin-off), Drive Angry has a lot going for it if you can ignore some janky filmmaking every now and then. It may not be the best that the neo-grindhouse revival has to offer, but if you’re a fan of schlocky action flicks with a foot in supernatural horror, I think you’ll have fun with this Cage-heavy b-movie.

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Of course, that’s not to say that there aren’t a handful of technological prophets out there who can tap into universal fears and anxieties that continue to be relevant no matter how far our species marches into the future. A great example of this is Philip K. Dick’s 1977 novel A Scanner Darkly, a timeless autobiographical parable about paranoia and America’s war on drugs disguised as a sci-fi novel.

And while the book may not have been one of the author’s most popular works, it was later adapted into my personal favorite Richard Linklater project – a nearly two-decade-old animated film that still feels like it could have been made yesterday. That’s why I’d like to revisit this odd feature and discuss exactly what makes it such a fascinating adaptation.

Inspired by Dick’s personal experience with Californian counterculture after his fourth wife left him in the early 70s, the original A Scanner Darkly uses a dystopian future as a mere pretext to talk about very real concerns that the author had about what drugs were doing to his social circle. This unique premise is likely why there had already been several attempts to adapt the story to the big screen, with names like Charlie Kaufman and even Terry Gilliam expressing interest in the novel at one point or another.

Ultimately, it was celebrated Texan filmmaker Richard Linklater who managed to impress Dick’s estate with a proposed animated adaptation (using the same rotoscoping method that he had previously perfected in 2001’s Waking Life) that would focus on the growing paranoia of the main characters in a bizarre combination of a humorous hangout movie and a tragic conspiracy thriller.

After a short filming schedule and lengthy post-production process, the finished film was released in May of 2006, with the story remaining mostly faithful to the novel as it follows undercover junkie Bob Arctor (Keanu Reeves) as he’s forced to spy on himself and his odd housemates during a drug epidemic in the near future of 2013.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

From the religious implications of The Adjustment Bureau to the trashy thrills of 2007’s Next, I usually find that even the less beloved Phillip K. Dick adaptations are still incredibly entertaining. What makes A Scanner Darkly unique among its peers is the fact that the story isn’t really about any specific piece of revolutionary technology or the complex workings of an imagined dystopia, but rather a sincere exploration of what might lead someone to throw their life away in exchange for cheap chemical thrills.

Sure, the odd pacing and intentionally over-written dialogue might rub some viewers the wrong way, but the flick’s insights into drug culture and America’s obsession with surveillance make this a fascinating experience – especially since the movie refuses to judge its troubled characters and doesn’t jump to any easy conclusions about solving the epidemic.

I’ve also always been a fan of the hand-crafted janky-ness behind rotoscoping, and while it used to be a clever tool for animating realistic action, the genius of A Scanner Darkly’s visuals is in using the constantly shifting images and vibrant colors to give us a glimpse of the internal lives of our trippy cast.

This creative cinematography (coupled with the Radiohead-heavy soundtrack) means that even the slower moments are still charming, and I really appreciate how many of the actors work with exaggerated expressions in order to make the animated visuals pop even further.

And speaking of actors, there are some incredibly memorable performances behind the rotoscoping here, including a highly energetic Robert Downey Jr. in one of the most mesmerizing roles of his career and a deeply disconcerting take on severe addiction by Rory Cochrane.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Ask anyone who’s ever dealt with a loved one battling cognitive impairment and they’ll tell you that losing your mind while being aware of it as it happens is one of the most horrific things that can happen to a human being. Unfortunately, the general lack of internal monologues in cinema means that most films are incapable of properly exploring this sensitive topic with any kind of nuance.

Ironically, Linklater’s A Scanner Darkly is a rare exception precisely because of its over-the-top visual style, with the fluctuating animation allowing for internal story-beats to come to life on the big screen in horrific ways that are usually reserved for literature – especially if you know people struggling with addiction in real life.

I’d also argue that one of the film’s greatest strengths lies in the decision to start things off as a weird hangout flick akin to Linklater’s early work and slowly morph the story into a legitimately compelling commentary on the corporate masters behind America’s failed war on drugs (something that continues to plague innocent citizens to this very day with the tragic opioid epidemic).

In some ways, the film reminds me of William Friedkin’s Bug, another mind-bending thriller that deals with some similar ideas regarding drugs, paranoia and the nature of conspiratorial thinking. However, Linklater’s film delves into even darker territory due to the realization that some conspiracies can actually be real. After all, as William S. Burroughs said, “A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what’s going on. A psychotic is a guy who’s just found out what’s going on.”

Ultimately, the real horror-adjacent bits of A Scanner Darkly lie in the sinister implications of the story rather than the events themselves, especially when most of these issues remain tragically relevant even in the far-off future of 2024. And while we’re still nowhere near solving the problems that lead to malevolent corporatism and widespread addiction, at least we can still revisit this fascinating work of art dedicated to those who were punished for the crime of existing in an unbearable dystopia.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Exploring the Horror of Dystopian Drugs in ‘A Scanner Darkly’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

That being said, there are exceptions to this rule, as some movies manage to terrorize audiences into leaving the theater regardless of genre. One memorable example of this is Nicolas Winding Refn’s 2013 revenge thriller Only God Forgives, a film so brutal and inaccessible that quite a few critics ended up treating it like a snuff film from hell back when it was first released. However, I’ve come to learn that horror fans have a knack for seeing beyond the blood and guts when judging the value of a story, and that’s why I’d like to make a case for Winding’s near-impenetrable experiment as an excellent horror-adjacent experience.

Refn originally came up with the idea for Only God Forgives immediately after completing 2009’s Valhalla Rising and becoming confused by feelings of anger and existential dread during his wife’s second pregnancy. It was during this time that he found himself imagining a literal fistfight with God, with this concept leading him to envision a fairy-tale western set in the far east that would deal with some of the same primal emotions present in his Viking revenge story.

It was actually Ryan Gosling who convinced the director to tackle the more commercially viable Drive first, as he wanted to cement his partnership with the filmmaker in a more traditional movie before tackling a deeply strange project. This would pay off during the production of Only God Forgives, as the filmmaking duo was forced to use their notoriety to scrounge up money at a Thai film festival when local authorities began demanding bribes in order to allow shooting to continue.

In the finished film, Gosling plays Julian, an American ex-pat running a Muay-Thai boxing club alongside his sociopathic brother Billy (Tom Burke). When Billy gets himself killed after sexually assaulting and murdering a teenager, Julian is tasked by his disturbed mother (Kristin Scott Thomas) with tracking down those responsible for the death of her first-born child. What follows is a surreal dive into the seedy underbelly of Bangkok as the cycle of revenge escalates and violence leads to even more violence.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

There’s no right or wrong way to engage with art, but there are some films that clearly require more effort from the audience side in order to be effective. And while you can’t blame cinemagoers for just wanting to enjoy some passive entertainment, I think it’s always worth trying to meet a work of art on its own terms before judging it.

Despite being a huge fan of Drive, I avoided Only God Forgives for a long time because of its poor critical reception and excessively esoteric presentation. It was only years later that I gave the flick a chance when a friend of mine described the experience as “David Lynch on cocaine.” It was then that I realized that nearly everything critics had complained about in the film are precisely what made it so interesting.

If you can stomach the deliberate pacing, you’ll likely be fascinated by this stylish nightmare about morally questionable people becoming trapped in a needless cycle of violence and retaliation. Not only is the photography impeccable, turning the rain-slicked streets of Bangkok into a neo-noir playground, but the bizarre characters and performances also help to make this an undeniably memorable movie. And while Gosling deserves praise as the unhinged Julian, I’d argue that Vithaya Pansringarm steals the show here as “The Angel of Vengeance,” even if his untranslated dialogue is likely to be unintelligible for most viewers.

However, I think the lack of subtitles ends up enhancing the mood here (even though some editions of the film ended up including them against the director’s wishes), adding to the feeling that Julian is a stranger in a strange land while also allowing viewers to project their own motivations onto some of the “antagonists.”

And while Only God Forgives is frequently accused of burying its narrative underneath a pile of artsy excess, I think the heart of the film is rather straightforward despite its obtuse presentation. I mean, the moral here is basically “revenge isn’t fun,” which I think is made clear by the horrific use of violence (though we’ll discuss that further in the next section).

To be clear, I’m still not sure whether or not I enjoyed this movie, I just know that I’m glad I watched it.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

There are two different kinds of gore effects. One of them is meant to entertain viewers with exaggerated wounds and excessive blood as you admire the craftsmanship behind the filmmaking. The other kind is simply a tool meant to simulate what actually happens when you injure a human body. Like I mentioned before, Only God Forgives isn’t trying to be “fun,” so you can guess what kind gore is in this one…

From realistic maimings to brutal fist fights that feel more painful than thrilling, the “action” label on this flick seems downright questionable when the majority of the experience has you wincing at genuinely scary acts of grisly violence. I mean, the story begins with an unmotivated rampage through the streets of late-night Bangkok and ends with the implication of even more pointless violence, so it’s pretty clear that you’re not really meant to root for an “action hero” here.

I can’t even say that the deaths resemble those from slasher flicks because the movie never attempts to sensationalize these horrific acts, with Refn preferring to depict them as straightforward consequences of violent people going through the motions – which is somehow even scarier than if this had just been yet another hyper-violent revenge movie.

Not only that, but the characters’ overall lack of moral principles makes this story even more disturbing, with the main antagonist being the closest thing to a decent person among the main cast despite also being a brutal vigilante.

Only God Forgives doesn’t care if you like it or not (and actually takes measures to make sure that the viewing experience is often unpleasant), but if you’re willing to step up to this cinematic challenge and engage with the narrative and visuals on their own terms, I think you’ll find an unforgettable nightmare waiting for you on the other side.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post 11 Years Later: The Horrific Cycles of Violence in ‘Only God Forgives’ Starring Ryan Gosling appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

To my surprise, I was a few minutes in when Denzel Washington proceeded to dismember a band of cannibal raiders when I realized that this was in fact a real movie. My mom was horrified by the flick’s extreme violence and dark subject matter, but I instantly became a fan of the Hughes Brothers’ faith-based 2010 thriller, The Book of Eli. And with the film’s atomic apocalypse having apparently taken place in 2024, I think this is the perfect time to dive into why this grim parable might also be entertaining for horror fans.

Originally penned by gaming journalist and The Walking Dead: The Game co-writer Gary Whitta, the spec script for The Book of Eli was already making waves back in 2007 when it appeared on the coveted Blacklist. It wasn’t long before Columbia and Warner Bros. snatched up the rights to the project, hiring From Hell directors Albert and Allen Hughes while also garnering attention from industry heavyweights like Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman.

After a series of revisions by Anthony Peckham meant to make the story more consumer-friendly, the picture was finally released in January of 2010, with the finished film following Denzel as a mysterious wanderer making his way across a post-apocalyptic America while protecting a sacred book. Along the way, he encounters a run-down settlement controlled by Bill Carnegie (Gary Oldman), a man desperate to get his hands on Eli’s book so he can motivate his underlings to expand his empire. Unwilling to let this power fall into the wrong hands, Eli embarks on a dangerous journey that will test the limits of his faith.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Judging by the film’s box-office success, mainstream audiences appear to have enjoyed the Hughes’ bleak vision of a future where everything went wrong, but critics were left divided by the flick’s trope-heavy narrative and unapologetic religious elements. And while I’ll be the first to admit that The Book of Eli isn’t particularly subtle or original, I appreciate the film’s earnest execution of familiar ideas.

For starters, I’d like to address the religious elephant in the room, as I understand the hesitation that some folks (myself included) might have about watching something that sounds like Christian propaganda. Faith does indeed play a huge part in the narrative here, but I’d argue that the film is more about the power of stories than a specific religion. The entire point of Oldman’s character is that he needs a unifying narrative that he can take advantage of in order to manipulate others, while Eli ultimately chooses to deliver his gift to a community of scholars. In fact, the movie even makes a point of placing the Bible in between equally culturally important books like the Torah and Quran, which I think is pretty poignant for a flick inspired by exploitation cinema.

Sure, the film has its fair share of logical inconsistencies (ranging from the extent of Eli’s Daredevil superpowers to his impossibly small Braille Bible), but I think the film more than makes up for these nitpicks with a genuine passion for classic post-apocalyptic cinema. Several critics accused the film of being a knockoff of superior productions, but I’d argue that both Whitta and the Hughes knowingly crafted a loving pastiche of genre influences like Mad Max and A Boy and His Dog.

Lastly, it’s no surprise that the cast here absolutely kicks ass. Denzel plays the title role of a stoic badass perfectly (going so far as to train with Bruce Lee’s protégée in order to perform his own stunts) while Oldman effortlessly assumes a surprisingly subdued yet incredibly intimidating persona. Even Mila Kunis is remarkably charming here, though I wish the script had taken the time to develop these secondary characters a little further. And hey, did I mention that Tom Waits is in this?

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Denzel’s very first interaction with another human being in this movie results in a gory fight scene culminating in a face-off against a masked brute wielding a chainsaw (which he presumably uses to butcher travelers before eating them), so I think it’s safe to say that this dog-eat-dog vision of America will likely appeal to horror fans.

From diseased cannibals to hyper-violent motorcycle gangs roaming the wasteland, there’s plenty of disturbing R-rated material here – which is even more impressive when you remember that this story revolves around the bible. And while there are a few too many references to sexual assault for my taste, even if it does make sense in-universe, the flick does a great job of immersing you in this post-nuclear nightmare.

The excessively depressing color palette and obvious green screen effects may take some viewers out of the experience, but the beat-up and lived-in sets and costume design do their best to bring this dead world to life – which might just be the scariest part of the experience.

Ultimately, I believe your enjoyment of The Book of Eli will largely depend on how willing you are to overlook some ham-fisted biblical references in order to enjoy some brutal post-apocalyptic shenanigans. And while I can’t really blame folks who’d rather not deal with that, I think it would be a shame to miss out on a genuinely engaging thrill-ride because of one minor detail.

With that in mind, I’m incredibly curious to see what Whitta and the Hughes Brothers have planned for the upcoming prequel series starring John Boyega…

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Finding Faith and Violence in ‘The Book of Eli’ 14 Years Later appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

One such experiment was the Marvel Knights imprint, a collection of stand-alone stories that initially focused on less-marketable heroes and gave artists free-reign to tell unique and more adult-oriented stories unshackled by decades of garbled continuity issues. While these stories didn’t always succeed in revitalizing characters for a new generation (and often contained the worst kind of late-90s/early 2000s edge), they were almost always incredibly stylish and memorable.

That’s why I think it’s very appropriate that Neveldine & Taylor’s film Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance opens on a Marvel Knights logo instead of the traditional red intro that we’ve seen since the ’90s – almost as if the film itself is trying to let viewers know that this is meant to be a different take on a familiar property. And while the completed project wasn’t anything groundbreaking, I do think that the filmmakers having the guts to try something different makes this 2011 sequel worth revisiting.

Despite the first Ghost Rider’s middling critical reception, Nicolas Cage’s memorable performance and the character’s popular appeal basically guaranteed a sequel to the 2007 adaptation. However, Spirit of Vengeance was originally meant to be an R-rated thriller that would address complaints about the first movie’s goofy tone and put our favorite flaming skull in a high-octane story. That’s why the studio looked towards Crank directors Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor to helm the sequel and take it in a darker direction.

However, like many Sony projects about horror-adjacent comic-book characters, producers inevitably got cold feet after having already commissioned the script (which was penned and reworked by Scott M. Gimple, Seth Hoffman and David S. Goyer) and ended up scrapping many of the flick’s edgier elements while also slashing the budget to about half that of the original. Thankfully, they didn’t completely get rid of the edge, with the finished film still following a haunted Johnny Blaze (Cage) in Eastern Europe as he reluctantly partners with alcoholic French priest Moreau (Idris Elba) in order to protect a child from the latest incarnation of the devil, “Roarke” (with Ciarán Hinds replacing Peter Fonda).

AND WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

With such a rocky road towards the big screen, it’s easy to assume that Spirit of Vengeance became yet another Marvel-based misstep in Sony’s catalogue (and you wouldn’t be completely wrong, judging by the flick’s 19% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes), but while I admit that a large part of the sequel’s negative reception is likely due to a half-baked script filled with embarrassing dialogue, I also think that 2011 simply wasn’t a great time to be a unorthodox comic-book movie. With the Dark Knight films redefining what audiences wanted from adaptations and The Avengers looming on the horizon with promises of comic-accurate fun, a horror-inspired standalone B-movie was never going to be a critical darling.

This is a huge shame, as there’s a lot to love about this incarnation of Ghost Rider even if it’s not a revolutionary thriller or a faithful love-letter to the comics. For starters, the flick is absolutely bursting with style, making frequent use of odd angles, humorous cutaways, exaggerated split-screen effects and even bizarre Mortal-Kombat-Fatality-inspired shots where we focus on certain action-heavy moments against a black background. It doesn’t always work or even feel coherent (especially when it comes to the humor), but it is consistently interesting to look at.

Obviously, the cool visuals also extend to the film’s action scenes. While there’s a recurring issue where both the main hero and main villain are so ridiculously overpowered that some of the so-called “fights” become awkward (which was also a recurring problem in the comics), the imagery almost always kicks ass and I appreciate the use of practical effects-work during vehicle chases – especially that last one.

And while Spirit of Vengeance benefits greatly from its cast, with Elba, Johnny Whitworth and an unexpected Christopher Lambert standing out as exaggerated yet fun caricatures, we all know that the real star of the show here is Nicolas Cage. The filmmakers really decided to let the man loose here as he portrays Blaze as a traumatized maniac desperately trying to contain an eldritch force that’s burning him alive from the inside. From his over-the-top line delivery to his cartoon-like mannerisms once the flaming skull takes over (you can easily tell that it’s still Cage during the motion-capture sequences), I can’t imagine not being entertained by this wild performance.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance may have been billed as a superhero flick, but you only need to watch a few minutes of it to realize that this is really a monster movie disguised as an action-heavy thriller. I mean, the first half of the film presents the Rider as an unstoppable killing machine striking fear into the hearts of criminals, with Whitworth’s Carrigan even going so far as to quote Bruce Campbell before shooting at the demon with a shotgun.

And though it’s a shame that Sony ended up neutering the film’s gore and more overt horror elements, there’ still plenty of genuinely horrific imagery to be found here – and almost all of it revolves around the titular character and his grisly transformations. In fact, Cage actually seems to be channeling The Wolfman throughout the flick, with Blaze knowing that an uncontrollable dark force lurks inside of him and could escape at any moment to hurt those he cares about the most.

Blackout’s decay powers are genuinely terrifying even if the film decides to mostly play them for laughs, and the idea that Blaze is actually protecting the possible antichrist is a fun horror-adjacent premise. Plus, I’m a big fan of the reveal that the “demon” inside the Ghost Rider is actually an angel that was driven mad after being exposed to hell.

Ultimately, Spirit of Vengeance is a midnight B-movie in every sense of the word. The script may be about as deep as a kiddie pool and only Cage really gets the chance to shine, but the stylish presentation and a handful of poignant moments like Blaze confessing his sins to Moreau or bonding with Danny make this a much better experience than you might initially expect.

And while I’m still waiting on a proper Robbie Reyes Ghost Rider movie where Cage returns as an older Blaze to pass the proverbial torch onto the younger hero, I’m glad that there’s at least one fun Ghost Rider adaptation out there. I can’t exactly call Spirit of Vengeance a great movie, but if you ask me if it’s worth experiencing at least once, my answer is yes. Hell, yes.

The post Was ‘Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance’ Really That Bad? appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

While this story is often used to explain the concept of an infinite regress, it’s also a great example of how the simulation hypothesis – the idea that the universe as we know it is a kind of virtual reality – is actually much older than the modern concept of computers.

However, it was only with the technological advances of the 90s that this idea became prevalent in popular culture and caught on with general audiences. Obviously, the unprecedented success of the Wachowski sisters’ The Matrix had something to do with this, but Neo’s story was merely the most popular example of a (then) growing trend of simulation-focused cinema.

And while everyone’s heard of eXistenZ and Dark City, today I’d like to discuss one of the more obscure movies about simulated reality, Josef Rusnak’s neo-noir murder mystery, The Thirteenth Floor.

Heavily inspired by Daniel F. Galouye’s 1964 novel Simulacron-3 (which told the story of a completely functional virtual city developed for dystopic market research), the film that would become The Thirteenth Floor began life as a passion project by Rusnack and co-writer Ravel Centeno-Rodriguez. Impressed with their work, disaster film veteran Roland Emmerich decided to produce the movie through his German-American studio, Centropolis Entertainment.

In the finished picture, we follow Douglas Hall (Craig Bierko) in late 90s Los Angeles as the sole suspect in the murder of his tech billionaire mentor Hannon Fuller (Armin Mueller-Stahl). In an attempt to clear his name, Hall partners with Fuller’s daughter Jane (Gretchen Mol) and his friend Whitney (Vincent D’Onofrio) and proceeds to investigate Fuller’s final project: a virtual reality simulation of LA in 1937. What follows is a mind-bending mystery thriller that has our protagonist questioning everything he knows about himself and the world around him.

AND WHAT MAKES IT WORTH WATCHING?

While I can’t honestly sit here and argue that The Thirteenth Floor is an unsung masterpiece, I do think that it garnered an unfair reputation as a dud due to it releasing a mere month after The Matrix. Sure, the flick doesn’t boast the same level of production value and mass audience appeal as some of its peers, but that’s no reason to dismiss a legitimately engaging story.

Despite the lack of memorable action set-pieces, the fact that the flick isn’t content with simply using the simulation set-up as a gimmicky plot-twist already makes the experience worth the price of admission. You know what the film is about from the very beginning, with Rusnak preferring to delve into the philosophical and theological implications of nested realities as Hall realizes that a mysterious force has been playing God with his life while he does the same with the digital denizens of 1939 LA.

The sci-fi technobabble and general setup doesn’t quite hold up to scrutiny (I mean, how does the virtual world look so good in ’99 when we know that three-dimensional graphics from that era looked like amorphous blobs of primitive polygons?), and the pacing can be rather slow at times, but I still think the film is compelling enough to overlook these minor flaws. In fact, I’m not the only one who thinks so, with notable philosopher Slavoj Žižek having publicly defended the film and claimed that it was better than The Matrix when it came to exploring the consequences of the simulation hypothesis.

Personally, a lot of my good will towards the film comes from an appreciation of its meticulously crafted atmosphere. I’m a sucker for classic noir ambience and The Thirteenth Floor delivers in spades even if the effects budget can’t quite keep up with the filmmakers’ ambitions. That being said, I find it easy to forgive some questionable digital effects work given the movie’s computerized subject matter.

Of course, none of this would matter if we didn’t care about these characters, so it’s fortunate that the flick boasts likable character actors like Gretchen Mol and Vincent D’Onofrio to liven up a script that admittedly focuses more on the esoteric elements of the narrative than the humanity that motivates it.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Despite the concept’s popularity, a majority of scientists agree that the simulation hypothesis is inherently unscientific, as suspecting that our reality is a digital facsimile doesn’t actually change anything about how we interact with the universe. However, there are some dissenting voices who bring up a series of disturbing implications about the idea. For example, exactly how much agency do we have if the entire world is pre-programmed, and what happens to everyone if the simulation is turned off?

It’s precisely this kind of existential thinking that makes The Thirteenth Floor such a compelling experience. Where most of the famous simulation movies involve some kind of power fantasy as the protagonist takes control of their environment, Rusnak’s film prefers to dwell on the helplessness of realizing that everything you know is a lie.

From the main character’s steadily declining sanity to the very notion that someone can take over your body and forcibly turn you into a criminal, there are plenty of disturbing concepts to go around here, especially when you pair these ideas with the film’s murder mystery elements. In act, I’d argue that this exceedingly dreary tone might also have had something to do with the flick’s poor reception at the time of release.

The Thirteenth Floor may not reach the same heights as some of its peers, but that certainly doesn’t make it a bad movie, and I’m glad that it’s developed something of a cult following in recent years. And with the film revealing that most of the story actually took place in 2024, I think this is the perfect time to look back on this simulation-based oddity and draw your own conclusions about the nature of reality.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Looking Back on the Horrors of Simulation in ‘The Thirteenth Floor’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Obviously, there are several exceptions to this “rule,” and one of the most entertaining just happens to be Eric Bress and J. Mackye Gruber’s sci-fi thriller The Butterfly Effect, an under-appreciated relic of the 2000s that I think has aged into a much better movie than most folks give it credit for. And now that we have two decades of hindsight regarding time travel cinema, I’d like to take a look back on this weird little flick and dive into why it might also appeal to horror fans.

The film that became The Butterfly Effect began its journey to the big screen as a highly-sought-after spec script that just couldn’t secure enough funding to be brought to life. It was only when Bress and Gruber made a name for themselves by writing Final Destination 2 that they managed to get a hold of Ashton Kutcher to produce and star in their long-gestating project, leading to the flick’s release in early 2004.

In the finished film, we follow Kutcher as Evan Treborn, a troubled young man who experienced a series of mysterious blackouts when he was growing up. He eventually discovers that these blackouts were the result of his ability to travel back in time and occupy his own consciousness in the past, with this discovery leading Evan to use his powers to improve his depressing present. Naturally, this temporal meddling has unforeseen consequences, and Evan soon finds himself trapped in increasingly dire timelines as he faces the titular Butterfly Effect.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Over the years, The Butterfly Effect has garnered a reputation as “Donnie Darko for frat bros,” with a lot of cinephiles agreeing that it’s a deeply silly and excessively morbid movie that bites off more than it can chew when it comes to sci-fi shenanigans. While I can’t exactly argue that this film is an unsung masterpiece, I think folks have been way too hard on what was always meant to be just an entertaining midnight movie.

The overall plot may not stand on its own where logic is concerned (though I guess you could say the same for pretty much all time-travel flicks), but you’ve got to admit that the film does a great job of using its sci-fi elements as an excuse to explore deeply disturbing subject matter as it tells a story about coming to terms with trauma. Sure, some of these situations feel like they were ripped straight out of a soap-opera, but the exaggerated emotional stakes give the characters a chance to shine as they deal with sociopathic children, abusive parents and even dead babies.

And regardless of what you think about his career before and after Butterfly Effect, there’s no denying that Kutcher is completely dedicated to his role here. The actor supposedly conducted months of research into both psychopathology and chaos theory in order to bring the troubled Evan to life, and while not all that effort can be appreciated on-screen, you can certainly tell that he was really psyched to a part of this project.

Lastly, while this doesn’t necessarily reflect the overall quality of the movie, I also really appreciate the flick’s overall vibe. I mean, The Butterfly Effect contains some quintessential early-2000s atmosphere, with the movie being part of the so-called movement that the internet is now referring to as “nu-metal cinema.” The saturated colors and period-appropriate outfits and soundtrack may be unintentional quirks of the era, but they also make the experience feel like a snapshot of a slightly more stylish (and admittedly corny) moment in film history – which I think is quite fitting for a time travel flick.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

The Butterfly Effect may not contain any out-right jump-scares or imagery traditionally associated with the horror genre, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t tackle some downright scary ideas. From forcing the protagonist to face a sociopath hell-bent on burning his dog to death to having characters be brutally murdered, there’s no shortage of dark moments here.

Sure, the movie is regrettably blunt when dealing with some of its disturbing subject matter (like the surprisingly insensitive subplot about sexual assault in prison and the entire character of Katie’s pedophile dad), but I appreciate that the filmmakers were willing to explore the logical extremes of their intriguing premise. Hell, the movie even managed to squeeze in a little bit of body horror once Kutcher’s temporal shenanigans result in a timeline where his character loses both arms after trying to prevent a childhood tragedy.

However, one of the most horrific aspects of the film didn’t actually make it to the theatrical release, as the studio originally opted to change Bress and Gruber’s original ending due to its uncomfortable implications. And while I have some reservations about the director’s cut (mostly due to it feeling like It’s a Wonderful Life in reverse), I’d argue that it’s the more interesting version of the film and worth seeking out if you’ve only ever seen the theatrical cut.

The Butterfly Effect is far from a perfect film, suffering from inconsistent time-travel logic and more than a few groan-worthy plot contrivances, but I think it’s still a really great time if you can set logic aside and simply enjoy the ride. While I understand that some viewers may be put off by the more edgy and mean-spirited elements of the flick, I think this blast from the past is just as effective today as it was back in ’04.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘The Butterfly Effect’ 20 Years Later: Exploring the Dark Side of Time Travel appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

While he’s mostly known for his multi-million dollar epics, I’d argue that Christopher Nolan is one of these rare talents, with the British director starting out his career with a compelling trio of down-to-earth thrillers that culminated in 2002’s Insomnia – arguably the filmmaker’s most underrated film. And with Nolan back in the spotlight after miraculously turning an R-rated biopic into a bona fide blockbuster event, I thought that this might be a great opportunity to look back on the filmmaker’s first studio-backed project.

A remake of a 1997 Norwegian film of the same name, the American Insomnia was originally set to be directed by Jonathan Demme before the producer (Steven Soderbergh) watched Memento and decided that Christopher Nolan was the perfect man for the job. Hillary Seitz then went on to adapt the screenplay for North American audiences, with producers suggesting the removal of elements deemed too dark or offensive; though the remake’s ending is even bleaker than the original.

In the finished film, Al Pacino takes over Stellan Skarsgård’s role as a Los Angeles detective, here renamed to Will Dormer, who accidentally shoots his partner while investigating a murder in Nightmute, Alaska. Haunted by his mistake and the never-setting sun of the arctic, Dormer is stricken with a sever case of insomnia as he attempts to track down a manipulative killer who uses the detective’s guilt against him.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Like most of Nolan’s films, Insomnia was an immediate critical and commercial darling, making back its budget and then some while impressing critics who were weary of yet another American remake. In fact, Roger Ebert even pointed out in his original review that the flick was a “re-examination” of the same story rather than a traditional retelling, comparing the experience to a “new production of a good play.”

That’s actually a very apt way of describing the picture, and not only because it’s an adaptation of an existing story. In general, Insomnia feels a lot like a deconstruction of the detective genre itself, with the relationship between our main character and the antagonist becoming more and more muddled as Pacino’s Dormer is forced to confront his own failings. In fact, the “mystery” here is really derived from the audience wondering how the detective will escape this situation, and whether or not he deserves to, not the crimes themselves.

Nolan also cleverly characterizes the uncaring arctic landscape as something of a secondary villain, framing Pacino in chilling seas of fog and ice and further isolating him in his sleep-deprived state. You really get a sense that Dormer’s perception of the world around him is becoming more dreamlike as the film goes on, with his unraveling mind feeding into his growing paranoia.

And speaking of Pacino, the talented ensemble here is already worth the price of admission. I don’t think anyone needs a reminder about why Pacino is one of the greatest actors of all time, but his nervous chemistry with the late Robin Williams is simply captivating. I’ve always loved watching Williams play unhinged characters, and while his take on Walter Finch isn’t quite as disturbing as Sy in One Hour Photo (which came out the same year), it’s still further proof that his passing didn’t just deprive the world of a gifted comedian but an accomplished thespian as well.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Anyone who’s ever dealt with insomnia knows how eerie things can get after a period of sustained sleep deprivation – not to mention the creeping dread of not knowing if the next night will be any better. I honestly think that being forced to live out your day in a state of half-aware exhaustion due to the obligations of modern life is one of the most terrifying things in the world, and that’s why I found Dormer’s steady loss of sanity so compelling.

I mean, it eventually feels like the sun itself is actively punishing the detective throughout his investigation instead of merely facilitating his suffering, which I think is a testament to the film’s incredibly gloomy atmosphere despite everything being bathed in ever-present light. In all honesty, I don’t think Nolan ever achieved this kind of effortless style in his future films despite continuing to partner with cinematographer Wally Pfister.

I also find the quiet rage of William’s character to be quite disturbing, as this specific kind of psychologically damaged individual is much more in line with real world killers, especially once he starts to debate justifications for murder. There’s actually a fascinating exchange where Dormer ends up replying to Finch that he’s simply the current job and about as mysterious to him as a blocked toilet is to a plumber, with the detective recognizing that the motivations don’t really matter.

Insomnia might not be truly scary, operating neatly as a mostly conventional detective thriller despite deconstructing many of the genre’s tropes, but it’s still remarkably eerie when compared to similar films. Personally, I’m on the fence as to whether or not it’s better than the Norwegian original, but this is still one of Nolan’s most fascinating films and the main reason why I wish the director would go back to making smaller budget thrillers.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Insomnia’ – Investigating the Hard-Boiled Thrills of Christopher Nolan’s Most Underrated Movie appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

After reaching mainstream critical acclaim with 2015’s The Lobster, Lanthimos was basically given carte blanche on his next strange project. Borrowing the premise of an ancient Greek play, his next film would be a modern-day tragedy co-written by Efthymis Filippou and financed by Irish and British production companies. And like Yorgo’s previous English-language project, The Killing of a Sacred Deer would also benefit from a star-studded cast of both returning collaborators and newcomers.

In the finished film, Collin Farrell stars as Steven Murphy, a Cincinnati heart surgeon whose family becomes the subject of a mysterious curse once he meets Martin (Barry Keoghan), the son of a patient who died on the operating table. As Steven’s wife (Nicole Kidman) and children slowly succumb to a seemingly supernatural illness, Martin reveals that the only way out of this “curse” is to sacrifice a member of Steven’s family.

The flick mostly plays out like an arthouse drama rather than a traditional scary movie, but both critics and audiences were quick to call it one of the most unsettling experiences of 2017 back when it first came out. In fact, plenty of writers referred to the film as a great example of psychological horror despite the movie not really featuring any overt scares or aesthetic elements commonly associated with the genre.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

The Killing of a Sacred Deer is just as meticulously crafted and visually compelling as Yorgos’ previous output, though I’d argue that there’s an increased amount of polish here that makes it stand out among the director’s other films.

I mean, the visuals alone are stunning, with cinematographer Thimios Bakatakis going so far as to incorporate elements from the art of Edward Hopper into certain shots so that the picture feels appropriately lonely. There’s an intentional distance (not to mention awkwardness) to every frame, and it’s amazing to watch Lanthimos extract tension from virtually nothing as these characters go about their days even before they get sick.

That’s not even mentioning the incredible performances, with nearly every character being given a chance to shine as a part of this eerie hyper-reality. Colin Farrell has always been one of my favorite actors, so I may be a little biased when I say that this is one of his meatiest roles, but even I have to admit he’s actually outshined by Nicole Kidman’s desperate housewife (who has some of the most uncomfortable scenes in the film) and our bizarre “antagonist.”

After all, the real stand-out here is Barry Keoghan. From his overall strange demeanor to his ominous line-deliveries, Martin is half the reason that this is such a memorable film in the first place. It takes a real thespian to make eating spaghetti feel like a genuine threat, and kudos to Keoghan for making his awkward dialogue feel completely spontaneous.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

There are plenty of legitimately scary movies out there, but I’d argue that dread is much more difficult to convey on celluloid than passing frights. We’ve all had nightmares about being chased by a monster or haunted by a demon, but how exactly do you depict that nagging irrational feeling that things aren’t exactly what they seem and we’re heading towards imminent doom?

Naturally, “difficult” isn’t the same as “impossible,” and The Killing of a Sacred Deer is the rare film that actually manages to scare viewers purely through the use of atmosphere. Between the unseen entity bringing pestilence down on the family and a remarkably eerie soundtrack, the general vibe here makes you feel like you’re only moments away from disaster. Hell, Yorgos even doubles down on the uncomfortable factor by including real footage of heart surgery in the flick, as well as some intentionally cringe-inducing moments of uncomfortable sexuality.

And when it comes to the aforementioned performances, some of the strange character interactions here remind me of the peculiar voice-acting in early survival horror games like the Silent Hill series, with the odd voices giving the experience an otherworldly feel that enhances the horror instead of detracting from it. This may sound like a jab at the film, but I honestly think that it wouldn’t be as impactful without the awkward deliveries.

There’s also the matter of that shocking finale (which still hits like a brass-knuckled gut-punch despite being hinted at during the entire experience), but I’d rather not spoil the moment for readers who haven’t yet seen the film. Suffice to say that Yorgos doesn’t shy away from the brutal bits of the story.

Bizarre yet meaningful, eerie yet compelling, it’s hard to put The Killing of a Sacred Deer into a box. Objectively, much of the film is comprised of wide shots of an upper-class family walking around looking worried and occasionally getting into stiff conversations, but it’s still somehow one of the most uncomfortable cinematic experiences in recent memory. That’s why I’d recommend it to horror fans who don’t mind their horror with a side of ambiguous Greek tragedy.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Uncomfortable Cinema: Finding Awkward Terror in ‘The Killing of a Sacred Deer’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

One filmmaker who’s always been fascinated with the dark side of this obsession with violence is David Fincher, a music-video director turned auteur known for his perfectionist streak and stylish filmography. And in 2023, cinephiles were gifted with an unexpected treat when Fincher once again teamed up with Se7en writer Andrew Kevin Walker for their latest murder-focused project, The Killer.

Based on a French comic-book created by Alexis ‘Matz’ Nolent and Luc Jacamon (with the source material being a much more traditional hitman yarn), The Killer was originally set to be produced in 2007 with Fincher being attached to the project from the very beginning. However, a general lack of studio interest in a story that was decidedly less action-packed than your average assassin-gone-rogue flick meant that the director would only manage to secure funding for the production in 2021.

In the finished film, Michael Fassbender plays an unnamed assassin who is forced to go on the run after accidentally botching a job in Paris. He soon finds out that his girlfriend has been attacked at the behest of his employers while he was away and proceeds to meticulously track down the people responsible in a globe-trotting revenge yarn with a down-to-earth twist.

While The Killer was ultimately released as a part of Fincher’s four-year exclusive deal with Netflix, I had the pleasure of checking it out on the big screen as a part of the streaming giant’s attempts at making their films eligible for awards. That’s why I can confidently say that this was one of the better theatrical experiences of 2023 despite technically being a made-for-TV movie.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Other than the obvious appeal of Fincher and Walker working together again, The Killer is a surprisingly engaging film in its own right. More of a subtly comedic satire of assassin stories than a bona fide thriller, there’s a reason why some folks are calling this the thinking man’s answer to franchises like John Wick – though I’d argue that the truth is much more complex than that.

There’s also the matter of Fassbender’s captivating performance as a highly confident journeyman-murderer who doesn’t exactly practice what he preaches. Both the actor’s slowly deteriorating demeanor and the incredibly clever script (which often utilizes ironic narration to showcase how misguided our protagonist is) end up characterizing the Killer as more of a flawed human being than the cold-blooded specialist he presents to the world.

In fact, the entire film reminds of that Kris Kristofferson quote from Taxi Driver, where Cybill Shepherd’s character describes Travis Bickle as being “partly truth, partly fiction, a walking contradiction.” This duality even extends to the film’s soundtrack, which balances a minimalist score by Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross with a surprisingly mellow selection of The Smiths songs.

Of course, my personal favorite aspect of The Killer is how it invites comparisons between our fastidious main character and the filmmakers telling this story. I get the sense that Fincher and Walker are taking advantage of the source material’s narrative skeleton to comment on what really interests them: the modern-day gig economy and what it means to be a perfectionist honing an inherently chaotic craft.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

In the previous Horror Adjacent, we discussed how Nightcrawler’s Lou Bloom felt like a realistic depiction of a psychopath because of his unnatural ambition and general indifference to suffering. Fassbender’s Killer, on the other hand, isn’t actually the source of the horror in his world. Sure, he kills quite a few people, but there’s no personal malice to anything that he does.

The character’s treatment of murder as a banal necessity is merely the result of an environment that encourages distancing yourself from your work, and homicide is simply the job that he seems to excel at. The film even makes a big deal out of just how easy it is to track and kill someone in the modern world, with Fassbender taking advantage of everything from Amazon gadgets to Postmates deliveries to get the job done. It’s all decidedly less glamorous than what you usually see on the big screen, and that’s why I think it hits harder when things get serious.

If you take a look beneath the film’s darkly humorous façade, you might stop to think about how many lives are being destroyed here simply because those in power aren’t aware that their fickle whims fund a system that sees people as less than human – a stark contrast to the unquestioning murders in films like the aforementioned John Wick series.

That’s not to say that The Killer is an experimental art piece, as it still functions perfectly well as an unironic dive into a messy world of morally bankrupt murderers despite subverting many of the genre’s tropes, but I appreciate how Fincher and Walker have taken the effort to make this odd little thriller work on multiple levels – though your mileage may vary depending on how much you enjoy The Smiths.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Diving into the Banality of Evil in David Fincher’s ‘The Killer’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And while there are a handful of stories that offer a more realistic take on sociopaths (with even American Psycho depicting Patrick Bateman as a high-ranking office worker and possible CEO), I’d argue that one of the greatest cinematic psychos isn’t even from a horror movie. Naturally, I’m referring to the protagonist of the 2014 thriller Nightcrawler, a mean bit of journalistic satire that explores just how capitalism can reward anti-social behaviour.

Originally inspired by the real-world photojournalist Weegee, who infamously pioneered the practice of using a police scanner to reach crime scenes before they were publicly announced, the premise for the movie that would become Nightcrawler changed once veteran screenwriter Dan Gilroy came into contact with Los Angeles’ professional stringer scene.

Fascinated by how ratings-hungry TV stations encouraged an obsession with violent crime, Gilroy slowly developed a story about an antihero attempting to rise through the ranks of an unsavory profession. This led to the creation of Lou Bloom, a voracious capitalist with no real backstory to justify his cruel and calculating nature. The idea of a twisted success story centered around a character with no redeeming value ended up attracting Jake Gyllenhaal to the project, with the actor also becoming the film’s co-producer and taking a hands-on approach during shooting.

In the finished film, which ended up being helmed by Gilroy himself in his directorial debut, we follow criminal Louis Bloom (Gyllenhaal) as he discovers the stringer profession and attempts to get rich by selling graphic footage of crimes and accidents to a local news station. With his recordings becoming more and more lucrative, Lou’s ruthless nature is let loose as he attempts to outdo his previous work – leading to a seriously disturbing yarn about sensationalist journalism and those who consume it.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Making over five times its budget at the box-office and wowing most critics at the time, Nightcrawler was an even bigger hit than the filmmakers could have hoped for – and I think this success is totally warranted. From the stylish neo-noir photography that leaves you stranded in the middle of late-night LA to an unconventional script that avoids the usual pitfalls of trying to apply conventional morality to an irredeemable person, it’s no wonder that this beautifully crafted film struck a chord with audiences.

Of course, none of that would be possible if it wasn’t for Jake Gyllenhaal’s career-best performance as a highly unlikable yet utterly captivating protagonist that we love to hate. From his snake-ish demeanor to his gaunt face and famished eyes, we simply can’t look away from Lou as he devolves into greedy savagery in pursuit of the American dream.

Gyllenhaal’s acting may be boosted by a clever script that treats its despicable subject like an eerily believable human being instead of a movie monster, but you’ve really got to appreciate the lengths that the actor went to in order to bring this character to life. Jake actually made a point of keeping himself sleep deprived and even losing massive amounts of weight in order to make Lou look and feel like a “hungry coyote,” with this scavenger motif becoming a running theme throughout the rest of the film.

Strangely enough, Jake was nominated for nearly every major acting award for this role except for the Oscars, with many fans attributing this snub to the film’s genre influences – something that the Academy Awards have historic problem with. Regardless, Lou Bloom will still go down in history as one of the most memorable anti-heroes in cinema history, with or without an award, and that alone should convince you to give this flick a try.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Nightcrawler’s basic premise already invites comparisons to Mary Harron’s American Psycho, with both films chronicling the misadventures of terrible human beings who refuse to learn anything from the consequences of their actions. However, what makes this film stand out is just how grounded Lou’s “madness” is. In fact, I don’t think he’s mad at all, with his character’s extreme rationality being one of his defining characteristics and making him even creepier.

While Gilroy has repeatedly affirmed that Lou is by no means a psychopath, it’s hard to watch the film and imagine any kind of emotion behind his eyes other than avarice. In fact, there’s more than one moment where Lou comes off as a genuinely scary presence. From his intense monologue directed at his boss to the chilling final moments with his ex-assistant, the film makes it clear that nothing is off limits to this power-hungry predator.

That’s not even mentioning the flick’s extremely effective thriller elements, with Gilroy having originally envisioned the story as a more standard murder-mystery/conspiratorial investigation before peppering the narrative with other genre elements. While I agree with him and Gyllenhaal about the final version of the story being more of a dark comedy than anything else, there’s nothing funny about the oppressive atmosphere that purveys the entire experience here – or the real-world implications of Lou’s profession.

Nightcrawler may not be a bona fide scary movie, pulling from several different genres in its attempt to tell a nuanced story, but the flick is certainly unsettling in all the right ways. That’s why I think it’ll be a treat for horror fans who appreciate a bit of down-to-earth social commentary alongside their sociopaths. That being said, I’d still love to see a B-movie take on this story where a maniacal photojournalist ends up committing and staging murders just to get a perfect shot…

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Nightcrawler’ – Revisiting Jake Gyllenhaal’s Career-Best Performance appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

That’s why it makes sense that a narrative concert film produced by Metallica would also borrow from some of their favorite genre thrills. And with Nimród Antal’s experimental masterpiece Metallica: Through the Never celebrating its 10^th anniversary this month, I’d like to take this opportunity to dive into how this unique film uses its genre influences to tell a surprisingly compelling story accompanied by one of the band’s best live performances.

The idea for Through the Never spawned from the band’s wish to produce a concert film that harkened back to the musical storytelling of classics like Pink Floyd’s The Wall and Daft Punk’s Interstella 5555. Hiring veteran genre director Nimród Antal, who had previously helmed Predators and Vacancy (and has since worked on Stranger Things), the Metallica crew teamed up with the filmmaker to write a screenplay mixing the surreal atmosphere of The Twilight Zone with the apocalyptic imagery of Mad Max, investing their own money into what they thought would be their cinematic magnum opus.

In the finished film, we follow Dane DeHaan as a young roadie who embarks on a perilous quest during the band’s 2012 performance in Vancouver’s BC Place, with his journey through a city on the edge of anarchy being intercut with the band’s performance in a thrilling hybrid experience that basically amounts to a feature-length music video.

Unfortunately, while critics praised the film as a visually stunning experiment as well as an innovative celebration of the band’s history, Through the Never didn’t even manage to make its budget back at the box office. In fact, James Hetfield is reported to have called the entire experience “bittersweet,” lamenting how much the band ended up spending on such a risky endeavor.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

The mere existence of a narrative concert film starring Metallica is enough to justify the price of admission for heavy metal fans, but Through the Never is also a genuinely entertaining piece of storytelling in its own right. Not only does the film depict one of the band’s all-time best performances, with the Vancouver venue being completely retrofitted to enhance their theatrical flourishes and dangerous-looking pyrotechnics, but it’s also accompanied by some truly gorgeous cinematography.

I mean, this whole affair was clearly intended to be experienced on the big screen, with the 3D IMAX elements making the film feel especially impressive during a time when most 3D productions were lazily post-converted into the format instead of being specifically shot with stereoscopic viewing in mind. That being said, the film still holds up as a gorgeous piece of art when viewed on traditional television sets – so long as you keep the volume loud!

From violent car crashes to city-wide riots – not to mention the blood-pumping spectacle of the concert itself – there are plenty of shots here that will likely stick with you long after the credits roll. I actually wish that the band would rerelease the film in theaters, as it’s a damn shame that most fans will never get to experience this bold experiment the way it was meant to be seen (and heard).

Sure, Through the Never is a little light on plot, focusing more on surreal imagery and a general sense of anarchic dread rather than a proper story, but you can still infer some semblance of a cohesive narrative here as Dane DeHaan goes about his near-mythical quest for an unidentified McGuffin. Hell, you can even interpret his bizarre interactions with rioters as drug-fuelled hallucinations – or maybe even the result of severe cranial trauma due to his frequent injuries.

That being said, I love the implication that this might very well be the actual end of the world.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

From masked killers to mass murders and zombie-like riots, it’s pretty clear what kind of genre films inspired the madness of Through the Never. That’s precisely why I think horror fans are likely to appreciate the film’s unconventional take on the symbiotic relationship between movies and music.

Hell, some of the more brutal scenes even make the film feel like an unofficial entry in the Purge franchise, with the movie featuring some particularly gnarly depictions of urban chaos as masked citizens enact their wildest (and most violent) fantasies. I especially enjoy how DeHaan’s character deals with being cornered by a group of dangerous rioters towards the end of the picture, with this fiery scene serving as a perfect vertical slice of the entire experience.

To be honest, my only gripe with the picture is the fact that there aren’t more of these story elements. DeHaan’s final confrontation with the masked rider and his subsequent return to the concert may end the movie on a satisfying note, but it still feels like there was room for more apocalyptic adventure here. I didn’t exactly time it, but I’d wager that the narrative bits only make up a single third of the experience, which is a shame when you have such an engaging premise and a naturally charismatic leading man.

That being said, I think that Metallica: Through the Never makes for a great mood piece during the Halloween season, even if the band doesn’t actually get to play their more horror-oriented songs. From brutal fight scenes to instantly iconic heavy metal imagery, there are plenty of genre thrills to be had here if you can accept the movie for what it is. I mean, we still haven’t seen anything close to this level of unbridled creativity in concert films in the 10 years since it was released, so we might as well appreciate this oddball musical experiment.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Looking Back on the Surreal Thrills of ‘Metallica: Through the Never’ 10 Years Later appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

One of my personal favorite examples of an animated movie that delves into much deeper (and darker) subject matter than your average cartoon is Don Bluth’s directorial debut, The Secret of NIMH. A dark fantasy fable about talking mice, this 1982 adaptation of Robert C. O’Brien’s Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH takes fascinating liberties with the source material in order to tell a story that would only truly be appreciated by adults.

Appropriately enough, the film’s production stemmed from Bluth’s frustrations while working as an animator at Disney, with the director and his team initially wanting to convince the higher-ups at the company to fund an adaptation of what they thought could be their next big hit. Once the pitch was rejected for being too dark, Bluth turned to the recently founded Aurora Pictures, who offered him a miniscule budget and a little over two years to complete the independent project.

During this process, the story would undergo numerous revisions, with Bluth insisting on adding a spiritual element to the tale while keeping most of the sci-fi influences in the background. The filmmakers also simplified the script in order to focus more on Mrs. Brisby (who was renamed due to a conflict with the owners of the Frisbee trademark) and her children instead of the actual rats of NIMH.

In the finished film, we follow the widowed mouse Mrs. Brisby as she attempts to convince a group of super-intelligent rodents to help her move from the cinder block her family calls home before it’s destroyed by a farmer’s plow. Along the way, she meets an assortment of quirky and often creepy characters ranging from an oracle-like owl to the mystical Nicodemus as she learns the titular secret of the rats who were experimented on by the National Institute of Mental Health.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

While Bluth’s debut film didn’t make as much money as its producers had initially hoped (most likely due to a botched marketing campaign and the fact that it opened against Spielberg’s E.T.), critics were actually quite fond of this unusually dark “family picture.” While a handful of reviews claimed that the film was unappealing to children due to some disturbing imagery and a complicated plot, it was generally accepted that this was a special little film even back in 1982.

I mean, the visuals alone were already worth the price of admission, with the filmmakers’ dedication to traditional animation techniques resulting in stunning artwork that hadn’t been seen since the golden age of Disney. Sure, the animators were horribly overworked for long periods of time, but they were also offered a cut of the movie’s profits in a bold move that was unheard of in the ’80s and made this a real passion project for all involved.

This love of the craft also extends to the film’s esoteric screenplay, with Mrs. Brisby’s relatable plight becoming a jumping-off point for a story about the power of a mother’s love and the fascinating middle ground between science and faith. And while many of these elements were already present in O’Brien’s novel, I’d argue that The Secret of NIMH remixes these ideas into something completely new and decidedly more adult.

From Nicodemus’ mystical musings on the nature of courage to the George R.R. Martin levels of political intrigue as the villainous Jenner becomes a murderer in an attempt to usurp leadership from his fellow rats, it’s pretty clear that the film is an entirely different beast that only happens to share the same general setup and characters with its source material.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

I originally read O’Brien’s book in the third grade as a part of a class project. Being a budding cinephile, I naturally ended up renting the movie adaptation from my local Blockbuster when I was finished reading. Now imagine my surprise when I realized that this simple tale about genetically enhanced rodents had been transformed into a dark fantasy yarn featuring creepy rat wizards and literal back-stabbings in a cruel setting that felt more like Frank Frazetta than Walt Disney.

While it wasn’t exactly the adaptation I was looking for (and may have been responsible for more than a handful of sleepless nights), I’ve since grown to love Don Bluth’s gloomy fable more than the book that inspired it. The grim imagery that was once a source of nightmares has since acquired a morbid beauty, with moments like Mrs. Brisby’s encounter with the Great Owl hitting even harder now that I’m old enough to realize that she’s basically venturing into a serial-killer’s hideout just so that her children may have a chance to survive another year.

Hell, the film even boasts a couple of gruesome death scenes and genuinely intense set-pieces, with Bluth going so far as to animate the local farm’s cat as if it were a demonic entity rather than an average house-pet – and that’s not even mentioning the horrific animal abuse that resulted in the rats becoming super intelligent in the first place.

The Secret of NIMH is by no means a horror film, boasting the same fantastical energy that turned movies like Sleeping Beauty and The Wizard of Oz into timeless classics, but it’s hard to deny the film’s frequent forays into darkness. And while this means that it might scare off some of the more sensitive children out there, I’d argue that this mean streak is precisely what makes it such a memorable experience and one of the best animated films of all time.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Appreciating the Darkness of Don Bluth’s ‘The Secret of NIMH’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Thankfully, there are a handful of exceptions to this rule, and I’d argue that the most surprising of all would be the Universal Soldier franchise. In all honesty, I don’t even think the original 1992 film is all that great, benefiting from the natural charisma of Jean-Claude Van Damme and Dolph Lundgren while riding on the coat-tails of an intriguing premise (where deceased soldiers are revived as cybernetic zombies with enhanced combat abilities). Its immediate successors didn’t fair all that well either, with both an ill-advised duo of straight-to-video bombs and a theatrical sequel completely missing the point about what makes undead super-soldiers such an interesting concept. However, this would miraculously change with the advent of the final two sequels in the franchise.

John Hyams’ Universal Soldier: Regeneration would be a masterclass in low-budget action filmmaking, but its 2012 follow-up ended up taking an unexpected detour in regards to genre. While Hyams returned to the director’s chair and the film still acknowledged the events of the previous entry, Universal Soldier: Day of Reckoning ended up feeling more like a brooding psychological thriller along the lines of The Jacket and even Jacob’s Ladder rather than a low-brow action flick.

In the finished film, we follow Scott Adkins as John, an amnesiac survivor of a home invasion that resulted in the death of his wife and daughter. The strange part is that this seemingly random act of violence appears to have been carried out by none other than Van Damme’s Luc Deveraux, the undead protagonist of the previous films. Motivated by his need for revenge, John dives down a mind-bending rabbit hole of false memories and government conspiracies in order to track down the revolutionary monster that Luc has become.

Despite this novel setup, the film was only released theatrically in a handful of international territories, raking in a pitiful $1.4 million on an $8 million budget and ending up lost in the early days of VOD. That being said, Day of Reckoning actually boasts the best critical reception in the entire series, garnering a 57% score on Rotten Tomatoes and earning praise for its originality.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

If a genre-bending reinvention of the Universal Soldier films isn’t enough to hook you, Day of Reckoning also works on its own as a surprisingly solid mystery movie. The multi-layered conspiracy behind both John’s revenge and Deveraux’s transformation into a messianic figure for his fellow UniSol survivors is darkly compelling, with the film only offering you brief glimpses of the overarching narrative in between violent confrontations with near-immortal super-soldiers and government agents.

And like the previous entry, the 2012 film once again benefits from Van Damme and Lundgren’s inimitable onscreen presence – even if it’s at a disappointingly reduced capacity. While I don’t think either actor even accidentally bumped into each other during filming, these action veterans still add plenty of flavor to this underrated thriller even if most of the runtime is dedicated to Adkins’ new protagonist (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as the actor/martial artist brings plenty of much-needed gravitas to his role as a confused and broken man searching for answers).

Of course, Van Damme’s Brando-inspired take on a morally questionable incarnation of Deveraux really steals the show here, with this once-beloved hero becoming a brooding leader who aims to overthrow the United States government due to its misuse of the UniSol program. Sure, he doesn’t get a lot of screen time, but what other action franchise has the guts to allow its most recognizable character to suddenly become the main antagonist in the final entry?

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

From undead cyborgs to brainwashed clones and existential mind-games – it can be argued that Day of Reckoning is only a handful of jump-scares away from being an actual scary movie. In fact, Hyams’ film finally makes an effort to dive into the existential terror that was only hinted at in previous entries, with John unraveling an MK-ultra-inspired web of human experimentation that retroactively makes the original film much darker and makes you feel sorry for the new antagonists.

And despite a handful of admittedly impressive action scenes (at least when you consider the low budget when compared to the film’s predecessors), the violence is almost never fun here. Bones splinter and blood sprays out of every gnarly wound in what many critics described as an unnecessarily brutal bloodbath, something that I think only helps to hammer home the point about how horrific the UniSol program really is.

Hell, the movie even begins with a legitimately creepy POV home invasion sequence that places you in John’s shoes as his life is utterly destroyed, with the entire scene playing out like a particularly violent exploitation flick from the ’70s crossed with a disturbing Found Footage flick along the lines of James Cullen Bressack’s Hate Crime. And don’t even get me started on that gruesome finale that recontextualizes everything we’ve seen up until that point.

While I’m still partial to Regeneration’s janky set-pieces and Metal-Gear-Solid-esque take on political intrigue, Day of Reckoning is a refreshingly unique take on a premise that has been begging for a more horror-slanted approach since 1992. The film may have its issues, mostly due to a woefully inadequate budget (not to mention a slightly bloated runtime), but I honestly wish more action franchises were willing to take the same creative risks as this underrated thriller.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Universal Soldier: Day of Reckoning’ – The Unexpected Psychological Horror of a Bold Franchise Sequel appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Fortunately, there are still some innovative storytellers willing to come up with fresh takes on familiar monsters, and one of my favorite draconic reinventions happens to be Rob Bowman’s post-apocalyptic creature feature Reign of Fire, an underrated early 2000s gem that was only a couple of drafts away from greatness.

While the end result was undoubtedly a product of its time, the story behind Reign of Fire begins in the mid 90s with an unrecognizable spec script written by Kevin Peterka and Gregg Chabot. This early version of the story followed monster-slaying firefighters in a world where dragons occasionally popped up like natural disasters. However, Spyglass Media would later recruit Matt Greenberg to revise the screenplay into something bigger and more action-packed, with the initial premise slowly morphing into a post-apocalyptic epic set in a world of ash as Bowman stepped in to direct.

In the finished film, a pre-Batman Christian Bale plays Quinn, the leader of a group of survivors in a dragon-infested wasteland who take refuge in the ruins of a British castle. While Quinn believes that the dragons will eventually die out on their own after having destroyed nearly every source of food, his community is soon visited by a group of American dragon-slayers (led by a lovably hammy Matthew McConaughey) who are convinced that eliminating the only male dragon is the only way to guarantee a future for mankind.

Unfortunately, it seems that Spyglass’ retooling of the script wasn’t enough to guarantee a hit, with the film underperforming at the box office while also failing to impress critics. Reign of Fire would eventually earn itself a cult following as its stars found success in other projects, but it never became the multi-media franchise that its creators had originally intended.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

I’m not going to sit here and pretend that Reign of Fire is a misunderstood masterpiece, as the story isn’t very original and the muddied visuals can’t quite convey the film’s big ideas, but there’s no denying the B-movie glee that permeates the entire project. Sure, the studio-mandated rewrites may have neutered what was once a novel premise, but there are still enough flashes of brilliance here to make the experience worthwhile.

From subtle character moments like when our protagonist teams up with Gerard Butler to retell a simplified version of the end of The Empire Strikes Back to the subversion of familiar fantasy tropes, there’s plenty to love here if you can stomach some clichéd dialogue and predictable action.

The charismatic cast also does a miraculous job of elevating the material here. Christian Bale makes for a perfect no-nonsense lead, with his cautious persona really selling the idea that this man has spent his entire life knowing that humanity is no longer at the top of the food chain. In fact, he even intended to play Quinn as a realistically emaciated husk of a man until he was reminded that he would have to survive a plethora of action scenes.

That being said, Matthew McConaughey stands out as the most interesting character of the bunch, with his exaggerated gruff exterior making him a joy to watch even if his backstory and dragon-killing hijinks suggest a much more entertaining movie than the one we ultimately got.

Of course, what really makes this movie special is how it was produced during a brief period when blockbuster filmmaking still allowed for the construction of stylized sets and costumes while only relying on CGI for what was truly impossible. This means that, while the story was still disappointingly by-the-numbers, the film still benefited from a somber personality that simply couldn’t be replicated by green screens.

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Did I mention that this film is about dragons?

Reign of Fire expertly depicts its antagonists as horrific forces of nature, with the film’s characters fearing the silhouette of their wings much like a Kansas native might fear the initial gusts of a tornado. Sure, there’s no real gore when the beasts attack (mostly due to the fact that these dragons tend to burn their victims to a crisp before ingesting them), but the predatory mannerisms of these giant man-eaters more than makes up for that.

And while I would have preferred it if the filmmakers had used more practical effects during the dragon attacks, it’s worth noting that the biological design of these monsters was so effective that it’s still being reused today in modern media, with everything from Harry Potter to Game of Thrones taking inspiration from this twenty-year-old monster movie when it comes to making dragons seem believable.

The post-apocalyptic setting itself is also horrific enough on its own, with this ashen hellscape making it clear that life is only barely worth living at this point. The film may focus on its proposed mash-up of fantasy storytelling and modern cinematic action, but it’s the impeccable set design and ashen visuals that make this experience memorable.

Again, Reign of Fire isn’t trying to reinvent the monster movie wheel, relying on (literally) age-old tropes to tell its familiar story, but this post-apocalyptic epic is still far more entertaining than it has any right to be. While I would still like to see another film tackle the original version of this screenplay, I still appreciate the draconic action that we got – which is why I think the gray world of Reign of Fire is still worth revisiting over two decades later.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Reign of Fire’ – Underrated Monster Movie Pit McConaughey and Bale Up Against Dragons appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Curiously enough, the movie that would become Outlander began life way back in 1992, with McCain coming up with an early iteration of the story which was later rewritten by screenwriter Dirk Blackman. This initial version of the film was intended to be produced independently in southern New Zealand, though it was ultimately never made. It was only in 2005 that a studio showed interest in reviving the project on a smaller budget, with the production team relocating shooting to eastern Canada.

In the finished film, Jim Caviezel plays Kainan, the lone survivor of a space-ship crash who lands in ancient Norway and attempts to hunt down the alien creature responsible for killing his crewmates. Along the way, he comes into contact with the local Vikings and must try to convince them that they’re being stalked by an otherworldly predator with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.

Unfortunately for McCain, audiences weren’t exactly craving a modern take on Beowulf, with Outlander ultimately losing over $40 million at the box office and garnering an unfair reputation as yet another cliché-ridden action flick. While only a handful of reviewers actively called the flick out as a legitimately bad movie (with most of them simply stating that it was disposable entertainment), this middle-of-the-road production simply couldn’t compete with other 2008 releases like The Dark Knight and even Rambo.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

While you’ve undoubtedly seen many of these story-beats before, I’d argue that Outlander is somehow greater than the sum of its familiar parts, offering up a legitimately entertaining heroic yarn that’s content in telling a simple and unpretentious story while basking in some memorable visuals.

It probably won’t satisfy those looking for properly researched historical fiction (or even a faithful Beowulf adaptation), but I still respect the production’s ambitions of authenticity. From the filmmakers opting to build a lifelike Viking village replica in Nova Scotia instead of shooting on a sound stage to Caviezel managing to speak a few lines in genuine ancient Norse, it’s quite clear that McCain and his team had their hearts in the right place when making this strange little movie.

And speaking of the team, Outlander’s admittedly two-dimensional characters are miraculously enhanced by a talented cast, with Caviezel performing alongside genre veterans like John Hurt and Ron Perlman (in their first collaboration since Del Toro’s Hellboy adaptation).

I also appreciate the collection of smaller details that enhance an otherwise stock script, like how characters realistically let go of old grudges when faced with interplanetary horror and how Kainan describes his people as Viking-like conquerors responsible for interplanetary genocide. In fact, the entire film basically condemns the never-ending cycle of death and revenge that often permeates heroic fantasy narratives, with even the monstrous Moorwen becoming something of a sympathetic figure by the end of the film. It’s not exactly Shakespeare, but these little literary flourishes prove that at least some effort was put into making this story feel sincere.

It’s not the best take on Beowulf out there, but it’s certainly one of the more entertaining ones. I mean, Kainan even gets to forge a badass sword out of high-tech rocket-ship metal – what’s not to love?

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Featuring a plethora of memorable kills (like a man getting violently pulled through a small opening in a wall and a handful of unexpected decapitations) and quite a bit of disturbing imagery (such as the Moorwen’s corpse-filled lair), I think it’s pretty safe to assume that this hard-R monster movie will appeal to horror fans.

And if that wasn’t enough, the film benefits from a creepy monster design courtesy of French production designer Patrick Tatopoulos, with the artist drawing inspiration from bioluminescent sea-creatures when coming up with this extraterrestrial apex predator. While the Moorwen itself is completely computer generated, I admire McCain’s restraint in his decision to only reveal small glimpses of the beast at time.

Strangely enough, James Cameron’s Avatar would later feature predatory creatures quite similar to the Moorwen, though I’d argue that this is simply a case of isolated artists drawing from the same well of real-world inspirations when designing alien lifeforms.

In general, Outlander feels a lot like a b-movie on steroids, benefiting from a refreshingly small-scale story combined with a budget large enough to allow for entertaining set-pieces. That’s why I believe the film would have been a massive hit had it been released back during the 80s when these hybrid productions were more common.

Despite a slightly bloated runtime, I get the feeling that a lot of material was left on the cutting room floor here, as the film fails to explain important details like how exactly Kainan’s race is related to Earth and why he adapts so easily to ancient Scandinavia. However, even with its messy presentation, Outlander is still a lot more fun than most folks give it credit for, and that’s why I’d recommend it to any fan of monster movies that might enjoy historical sci-fi twist.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post A B-Movie Beowulf on Steroids: Revisiting the Sci-fi Monster Movie ‘Outlander’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sucker for POV horror flicks, but I also enjoy a nice little palate cleanser every now and then. That’s why I appreciate rare exceptions like Dean Israelite’s Project Almanac, a sci-fi Found Footage romp that takes advantage of subjective filmmaking in an admirable attempt at updating age-old time travel tropes for a new generation.

If you haven’t heard of it before, Project Almanac tells the story of a group of teenagers involved in a time travelling conspiracy after David (Jonny Weston) uncovers blueprints for a time machine that his father (Gary Weeks) was working on before his mysterious death. Naturally, hormone-influenced shenanigans ensue as David and his friends decide to travel back in time for personal gain – only to discover that even the smallest changes can have disastrous consequences for the future.

Produced through Michael Bay’s Platinum Dunes, Project Almanac was already an unusual endeavor coming out of the gate, being the production company’s second non-horror film after 2014’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles reboot. Not only that, but it was also a bit of a gamble in the financial department, with the film boasting a surprisingly large budget for a Found Footage flick despite not featuring any superpowered characters or city-destroying monsters.

While the movie would ultimately rake in nearly three times its budget at the box-office, this success didn’t extend to its critical reception. Several media outlets unfairly condemned the picture as a mediocre cash-grab meant to ride the coattails of the found footage films that inspired it, while others were even more critical of its murky time travel logic.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Time travel flicks may be a dime a dozen, but I guarantee that you’ve never seen one quite like this before. Sure, Project Almanac’s script touches on highly familiar ground as David attempts to rectify past mistakes only to make things infinitely worse in the future, but these tried-and-true tropes are made fresh again by the story’s singular perspective.

The film firmly plants viewers in the shoes of these relatable protagonists, and though it can be argued that the producers graduated from the Netflix school of casting obvious adults as teenagers, I personally thought that these characters were likable enough to make the experience worthwhile. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that David, Christina (Virginia Gardner), Jesse (Sofia Black-D’Elia) and the rest were way less irritating than characters from other similarly teen-focused found footage movies like Project X (even though that film benefited from a young Miles Teller).

Project Almanac is also a guaranteed treat for fans of Back to the Future, with the film boasting plenty of callbacks to Zemeckis’ iconic trilogy (with the film’s title itself referencing Biff’s time-travelling schemes from Part II) without necessarily recreating any of the same moments or even relying on its outdated ruleset for temporal distortion. While the script’s internal logic often doesn’t always hold up to scrutiny, as the story features a handful of poorly executed paradoxes, I don’t think that really matters when you’re having fun along the way – which is certainly the case here.

In fact, I think the film’s disproportionately poor reception can only be explained by a severe case of Found Footage fatigue, as most critics seemed to dismiss this genuinely entertaining thriller simply because it came hot on the heels of countless Paranormal Activity sequels and more successful FF experiments like Chronicle.

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Project Almanac doesn’t feature any overt scares or even a foreboding atmosphere (I mean, most of the film takes place around high school parties and upbeat music festivals), but I’d argue that the film still features some exceptionally thrilling use of Found Footage simply because it does such a great establishing its characters that we actually end up fearing for their future.

It also helps that the movie features plenty of believable POV shots of global catastrophes, with some of this effects-driven imagery eerily bringing to mind real world tragedies. There are also a handful of moments where our protagonists are forced to confront the looming threat of complete non-existence due to their temporal meddling. These darker bits never quite take over the narrative, but the existential conundrum of collapsing timelines is taken a lot more seriously here than in Back to the Future.

Project Almanac doesn’t quite reinvent the time travel or the found footage wheel, relying on age-old tropes to tell its story and expecting an excessive amount of suspension of disbelief from the viewer (I’m still not too keen on the flick’s ultra-crisp big budget photography), but that doesn’t necessarily deem it a failure. For all its flaws, Israelite’s movie is still a highly enjoyable and unexpectedly humorous ride that deserves a larger fanbase among sci-fi and found footage enthusiasts. It may not be the best that the genre has to offer, but it doesn’t really have to be when there are so few of its kind out there.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Project Almanac’ Was ‘Back to the Future’ for the Found Footage Era appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Unfortunately, this means that plenty of edgier animated projects ended up slipping through the cracks over the years, with general audiences usually favoring family-oriented entertainment over experimental stories dealing with more mature themes. One such project is Shane Acker’s underrated 2009 thriller 9, a post-apocalyptic adventure that deserved more attention and pushed its PG-13 rating to the absolute limit.

Originally an Oscar-nominated short film that Acker developed while studying at UCLA, the first version of 9 caught the attention of both Tim Burton and Russian producer Timur Bekmambetov, who were enthralled with the film’s unique setting and design. This unlikely duo of Hollywood titans would then give Acker the chance to expand his 11-minute short into a feature-length project that would replace the eerie silence of its source material with a celebrity voice cast.

A few years of hard work later led to the release of Focus Features’ 9, a dark animated film that follows the youngest of a group of living ragdolls (Elijah Wood) as he embarks on an epic journey through a post-apocalyptic wasteland overrun by mechanical abominations. Along the way, the inquisitive doll slowly uncovers the horrible secret behind the current state of this ruined world and the alchemical origin of his fellow “Stitchpunks.”

It will probably come as no surprise that this strange little film wasn’t the resounding success that Burton and Bekmambetov were hoping for, with 9 only barely raking in a profit at the box office while also garnering a mixed reaction from critics. At the time, reviewers complained that the movie’s shallow narrative didn’t quite match its evocative visuals while also unfavorably comparing it to other dark animated classics.

In fact, the flick ended up being overshadowed by another Focus Features production that came out that very same year, which was Henry Sellick’s beloved adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s Coraline.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Looking back on the film 14 years later, it’s pretty clear that the cheap 3D animation hasn’t aged all that well, with muddied textures and simple rigging that often look more like a contemporary videogame than a big budget animated film – and that’s not even mentioning the less-than stellar script that doesn’t quite live up to the lofty ambitions of the film’s premise.

However, the sheer artistry behind the picture continues to stand out in spite of all these flaws, and the benefit of hindsight allows us to appreciate 9 even more due to the fact that we haven’t really seen anything in animation that feels remotely like this movie since it first came out. Admittedly, almost all of these unique qualities are limited to the film’s visuals, but that doesn’t make them any less impressive.

In fact, the consistently gorgeous designs and moody atmosphere make this a perfect hangout movie, and I’d argue that it can be even more enjoyable as an engaging piece of background entertainment than as a proper narrative experience. I mean, the Danny Elfman score on its own is already worth the price of admission, and Acker makes the most of his celebrity ensemble by giving nearly every character a distinct personality to go along with their high-profile voice talent (which ranges from Crispin Glover to Jennifer Connelly).

That’s why I think it’s a huge shame that this ended up being the director’s only feature-length production, as I would have loved to see what other bizarre animated worlds Acker could have come up with had this film been successful – especially if his future projects could have secured a larger budget.

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

9 is certainly darker and grittier than your average 3D animated film, featuring some disturbing imagery and touching on several adult themes, but it’s still not quite a proper horror film. Despite its grim setting, the movie focuses on a traditionally fantastical adventure as this rag-tag group of hand-stitched misfits is forced to work together in order to overcome the dark forces that have taken over the earth.

That being said, the film boasts a menagerie of bio-mechanical horrors that wouldn’t feel out of place in an Army of Frankenstein sequel, with plenty of terrifying chase sequences even a number of brutal death scenes that are likely to shock younger audiences who are only used to Disney-style action. 9 also refuses to shy away from the horrors of fascism, with the Third-Reich-inspired dictatorship that resulted in the apocalypse suggesting that this was a terrifying world long before the machines took over and began exterminating human beings.

Of course, it’s the aforementioned mood that really sells the picture for me, with the gloomy environments and curious art direction making the entire movie feel like a memory from a fleeting nightmare, complete with cybernetic monsters decorated with skulls and a surreal combination of science and magic.

The film would probably have stood the test of time better had it been a stop-motion endeavor like Acker had originally intended (though that would likely have resulted in even bigger losses for the studio) and I wish that the script had been more thoroughly polished before the producers settled on a final draft, but I still think that 9 is an inspired example of apocalyptic fiction and might even work as a piece of gateway horror for younger viewers.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘9’ – Revisiting the Stitchpunk Horrors of 2009’s Animated Movie appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Written and directed by Leigh Whannell (the co-creator of Saw), Upgrade is meant to be a no-holds-barred throwback to the schlocky sci-fi offerings of the 70s and 80s, stumbling onto some serious issues along the way. Originally titled STEM, Whannell had completed the first version of the script back in 2012, but the project only really took off once Blumhouse got involved after being convinced that the story didn’t require a blockbuster budget to be produced.

Shot in Whannell’s hometown of Melbourne, Australia for a measly $3 million, the film takes place in a grounded vision of the near future where self-driving cars and advanced artificial intelligence can’t quite make up for economic disparity and urban decay. It’s here that we meet Grey Trace (played by Logan Marshall-Green), a mechanic who’s left quadriplegic after an encounter with ruthless criminals. Losing both his wife and his freedom, Grey readily accepts the offer to be implanted with a cutting-edge artificial intelligence that will help him regain control of his body as a cybernetically enhanced super-human. This leads to a unique revenge thriller that touches on the dangers of short-sighted scientific advancement and elements of body horror.

While the film didn’t benefit from a wide international release, it was still moderately successful at the box office, raking in over five times its modest budget and impressing most critical outlets. Many filmgoers went so far as to compare the flick favorably to Sony’s Venom (another sci-fi action flick about a man sharing his body with an inhuman intelligence), and Upgrade ultimately became something of a cult hit among fans of low-budget sci-fi.

Not bad for Whannell’s second feature-length directing gig.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Revenge yarns are a dime a dozen and we’ve seen the evil A.I. trope a thousand times before (though the idea seems to hit a little harder now that A.I. functionality is being normalized), but the real draw of Upgrade comes in the form of Whannell’s unique creative vision. The director finds clever ways to work around the obvious constraints of the project’s budget, justifying this decidedly lo-fi future by grounding it in a believably grim reality.

Sure, the flick could have benefited from a larger effects budget (especially when it comes to bringing some of these not-so-futuristic locations to life), but the action scenes are satisfying precisely because Whannell finds ways to highlight the absurdity of these situations through Grey’s point of view instead of relying on cartoony choreography and hundreds of extras. The unconventional camera movements and framing are just extra icing on the cake, with the production team reportedly using a smartphone’s gyroscope to synchronize Logan Marshall-Green’s acting with their camera in order to produce mind-bending images.

And speaking of Green, the film also benefits from his memorable lead performance. The actor’s usual aloof demeanor greatly contrasts with the coldly-calculated movements of his killing machine persona, and I really appreciate how his face continue to display shock and awe in response to the carnage in front of him while the rest of his body goes through the smooth motions of dispatching henchmen like he’s simply taking out the trash.

This ties into how the unseen STEM is also a compelling character in and of itself, fulfilling a dual role of savior and villain without ever coming across as Green simply talking to himself. In fact, I would have liked to see this uneasy rapport expanded on in more movies (or even a TV show, like Blumhouse has already proposed).

All in all, the film is way more entertaining than its simple premise and budget would have you believe, and it’s a shame that we don’t get these low-budget studio experiments as often as we used to.

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

When Whannell is involved with a film, you know you’re in for a grisly ride. Upgrade may not be as overtly sadistic as the Saw movies, but it certainly features more than its fair share of violence and gore. In fact, there are several memorable deaths in the film (like that especially gnarly knife fight towards the beginning of the movie), with many of these kills feeling more like something you’d see in a sci-fi themed slasher than a futuristic action flick.

This mean streak extends to the film’s dark and dingy atmosphere, with nearly every corner of this believable future feeling dirty and dangerous despite technological advancements. From run-down apartments to rainy back alleys, it’s pretty clear that Whannell was going for a somber and oppressive mood here, and I think horror hounds are likely to appreciate the ensuing ambience.

There’s also the inherent body-horror behind the concept of having your arms and legs act on their own while you’re forced to tag along for the ride. While this loss of bodily autonomy is used to great comedic effect in the aforementioned Venom, Upgrade really makes you question the existential aspect of this situation once the novelty of being able to beat up bad guys wears off and our main character is left to deal with the gruesome aftermath.

Upgrade doesn’t exactly reinvent the sci-fi wheel, but it would have been right at home among the schlocky genre classics of the grindhouse age. While I would enjoy a return to the dark future established by the movie, I appreciate that we had this brief glimpse at an uncomfortably possible tomorrow and would recommend it to any horror hound willing to dive into a virtual nightmare.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Upgrade’: Finding the Horror in Leigh Whannell’s Violent Action Movie appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Having met Besson while working on commercials during the 90s, Leterrier would eventually join the notorious “Besson Stable” of Besson-endorsed filmmakers after impressing the director with his work on The Transporter films. This led to him being hand-picked to helm a unique action project written specifically for the martial artist and international movie star Jet Li.

Originally titled Danny the Dog, the script was inspired by the 1998 Kurt Russel flick Soldier, with Besson wanting to tell a down-to-earth version of the story of a brainwashed killer using his skills to protect a newfound family. As is often the case with studio filmmaking, the script would undergo numerous revisions and even a few reshoots due to shifting cast-members and filming locations, leading to the Glasgow-set version of Unleashed that we know today.

In the finished film, Jet Li plays an orphan who was conditioned from a young age to act as an attack-dog, with his lethal skills benefiting the ruthless loan shark Bart (played to hammy perfection by the late, great Bob Hoskins). After a run-in with a vengeful mob boss seemingly leaves Danny without a master, he’s taken in by a blind piano repairman (Morgan Freeman) and his daughter (Kerry Condon), though it’s only a matter of time before the ghosts of his previous life come back to haunt him.

Unleashed may not have been a box office titan, but it was relatively well-received by critics and audiences, eventually finding success in the home video circuit (which is how I originally saw it). This led to a sizable cult following that still defends the flick as one of Jet Li’s most underrated movies.

So Why Is It Worth Watching?

Mid 2000s cheese isn’t for everyone, as filmmakers were only just starting to update the tropes that had settled into most genre scripts during the 80s and 90s, but for those of you who can stomach a handful of annoying clichés (and some dated color correction) alongside their balls-to-the-wall martial arts action, you can do a lot worse than watching Unleashed.

Featuring some impressive choreography that still holds up today, not to mention a refreshingly grungy aesthetic that you almost never see in modern-day blockbusters, this odd little tribute to brutal Hong Kong action remains unique in its focus on character development and relationships. Sure, the martial arts extravaganza is the real star of the show here, but the film never loses sight of its humanity, allowing the cast to shine even when delivering hammy dialogue and surviving ridiculous situations.

After all, Unleashed boasts titans like Bob Hoskins and Morgan Freeman at the top of their game, with Leterrier allowing the cast to rework their characters in order to make them feel more believable. Freeman was actually the one who suggested that his character be blind after learning about a piano school for the visually impaired, and there’s no denying the quiet charisma of Jet Li’s socially awkward take on Danny (though I could have done without the budding romance between him and Condon).

And while the avant-garde editing regrettably takes the edge off some of the film’s wild stunts (and often feels like its compensating for missing or unusable footage), Leterrier ’s stylish direction makes this a much more visually striking experience than your average 2000s action movie, elevating Unleashed above many of its millennial peers.

What Makes It Horror Adjacent?

Unleashed may not dwell on the horrors endured (or perpetrated) by Danny, but I think it’s pretty clear that Besson and Leterrier were going for a “modern” take on martial-arts-centric exploitation flicks. Sure, the movie is obviously meant to entertain viewers with its impressive brawls and death-defying stunts, but it also makes a point of touching on genuinely dark subject matter like child abuse and psychological re-conditioning in between set-pieces.

The entire premise of the film implies that a business exists where human children can be brainwashed into behaving like Wushu-fighting canines (I mean, Bob Hoskins’ character clearly didn’t train Danny personally or craft his metal collar), and Danny had probably been murdering poor saps since childhood in what amounts to a low-budget version of an MK Ultra conspiracy theory.

The film also features an underground fight club with gimmicky assassins that wouldn’t feel out of place in a slasher flick, complete with memorable melee weapons and impractical outfits. Jet Li’s murderous skills and the film’s music-video-like presentation mean that these ruthless killers are never portrayed as legitimately “scary” opponents, but there’s plenty of entertainment to be found in the flick’s bizarre take on a low-rent Thunderdome.

Again, Unleashed doesn’t exactly dwell on these genre excesses, preferring to ground the story in Danny’s rehabilitation as he learns to live within a functional family unit, but it’s precisely this kind of morbid flair that I believe might appeal to horror hounds. That’s why I’d recommend this one to any fan of hyper-violent exploitation flicks with plenty of heart, though I still wish they had gone with the project’s first and much more appropriate title of Danny the Dog.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Unleashed’ – The Neo-Exploitation of the 2005 Martial Arts Thriller Starring Jet Li appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

That’s why it makes sense that a self-professed “son of rock ‘n roll” who grew up on a steady diet of American action flicks and videogames would see the advent of tiny portable cameras as an opportunity to explore first-person filmmaking. This is what led to the FPS-inspired music videos for the Biting Elbow’s The Stampede and Bad Motherfucker, which were both directed by the Russian-born Illya Naishuller (also the band’s lead vocalist).

These hyper-violent music videos didn’t take long to go viral, and fans – including director Timur Bekmambetov and Samuel L. Jackson – were soon clamoring for more POV filmmaking shenanigans. Fast-forward a few years and Illya soon found himself directing his first feature film in the form of Hardcore Henry, a gritty sci-fi action flick about a cyborg amnesiac who must rescue his girlfriend from a super-powered evildoer.

With a production budget of $2 million – ridiculously low for an action film – Naishuller went about creating a new kind of underground genre flick, going so far as to film without permits and sharing the dual role of main character/cinematographer with 12 other crewmembers. The end result was an incredibly innovative feature that became all the rage at film festivals back in 2015. Unfortunately, the wide release wasn’t as successful, with the film quietly falling into home video obscurity after a botched marketing campaign.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH A WATCH?

Action is really expensive to film, which is why you don’t see a ton of low-budget action flicks at indie festivals. It’s also incredibly dangerous if you don’t have an army of stunt performers and digital wizards to back up your special effects. With that in mind, the mere existence of Hardcore Henry is a guerilla filmmaking miracle, with the sheer amount of passion that went into crafting this insane piece of low-brow art making it easy to forgive an admittedly shallow script and a couple of rough edges.

And while the commitment to low budget exploitation filmmaking is admirable in and of itself, the most bonkers part is that it all comes together in the end to form a cohesive whole. It’s understandable that some audiences couldn’t get used to Hardcore Henry’s first-person shootouts and break-neck pace (which is probably why it isn’t talked about more), but viewers who grew up with FPS games are sure to appreciate its subjective charms. In fact, the POV element makes the action that much more believable even when there are obvious CGI enhancements, and there’s a certain sense of performative wonder once you realize that most of what you’re watching is happening almost exactly as it appears on-screen.

There are actually rumors of the crew being chased by angry cops during filming, as well as numerous stunt-related delays that extended production time into well over four months. And though I firmly believe that crewmembers should never be put at risk for the sake of a mere movie, I respect the hell out of the stunt team here for committing to such an insane labor of love.

This unusual amount of effort extends to the cast, from Danila Kozlovskiy’s memorably hammy comic-book villain to Sharlto Copley’s multi-faceted mentor figure inspired by non-player-characters in a videogame. Tim Roth is also excellent in his brief appearance as Henry’s father, giving our protagonist some heartwarming advice in a clever subversion of the classic “tough-guy dad” trope.

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR-ADJACENT?

It seems fitting that a movie with hardcore in the title would feature copious amounts of ultraviolence, and I think that’s going to be the main attraction for horror fans here. Obviously, there are enough firearm-related deaths in Hardcore Henry to make John Wick blush, but Henry becomes increasingly creative with his dispatching of goons as the movie goes on.

From lead pipe fellatio to that gruesome eye-stalk kill in the finale, there are plenty of deaths here that wouldn’t feel out of place in a slasher movie. And the best part is that it’s almost all achieved through clever practical effects (something that Naishuller would also strive for in 2021’s Nobody). This is made even more impressive by the fact that the movie is limited to Henry’s point of view, making every drop of blood that much more visceral.

There’s also plenty of genuinely disturbing body horror here, with Henry being forced to conduct impromptu surgery on himself and even donning brass knuckles made out barbed wire by the end of the picture. And speaking of body horror, the film borrows several elements from David Cronenberg’s Scanners when introducing audiences to the psychokinetic antagonist Akan.

Another interesting detail is that this is almost a Found-Footage movie, as with the exception of the opening credits and Tim Roth’s flashbacks, the entire film is technically being recorded by Henry’s cyborg eyes and edited after the fact (which even justifies the kick-ass soundtrack). This doesn’t necessarily make the film any better, but it does make it one of the most unique examples of Found-Footage filmmaking out there.

So if you’re in the market for an extremely gruesome experience but still want to be able to sleep at night, I’d recommend Hardcore Henry as your next midnight movie – especially if you’re a gamer and/or love guerilla filmmaking. I’d just suggest turning on safe-search before googling this film, lest you encounter some less-savory hardcore movies along the way.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy!

The post Making John Wick Blush: Appreciating the First-Person Ultraviolence of ‘Hardcore Henry’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

Cosmic horror yarns are chock-full of characters who go mad after reading cursed tomes, and we’ve already covered the meta-terror of Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves, but few movies have managed to capture the magic of being deeply disturbed by an unnaturally gripping story. One exception to this is Tom Ford’s controversial thriller Nocturnal Animals, with the fashion-designer-turned-filmmaker using the film’s Russian doll setup to explore how horror narratives can be used to communicate.

Based on a novel by Austin Wright, the 2016 film follows art gallery curator Susan (Amy Adams) as she works her way through an unsettling manuscript mailed to her by her ex-husband Edward (Jake Gylenhaal). The manuscript describes a terrifying thriller about an unsuspecting family being harassed by criminals during a Texas road trip, with the father (again played by Gyllenhaal) being forced to embark on a grief-filled quest for closure after the horrific incident. Along the way, Susan is slowly affected by her reactions to the deeply personal novel, with the film intercutting her life and memories with the story she’s reading.

While critics almost unanimously praised Adams, Gyllenhaal and Michael Shannon (who plays a cancer-ridden detective in the story-within-the-story), many reviewers accused the film of being excessively dense, pointing out the paper-thin connections between the layers of narrative and some baffling creative decisions (like that bizarre opening). There was also plenty of criticism directed at the film’s treatment of women, with some outlets even labeling Nocturnal Animals as an exploitation flick masquerading as an arthouse picture.

Despite these controversies, the movie was ultimately well-received by film festivals and awards shows, proving that Ford wasn’t just a one-trick-pony when it came to filmmaking.

So Why is it Worth Watching?

For starters, the aforementioned praise of the film’s performances wasn’t exaggerated. Almost every single actor is at the top of their game here, from Gyllenhaal’s frantic grieving father to Shannon’s doomed detective. And while Adams’ character is mostly a reactive figure, even she finds ways to insert nuance and personality into a complex individual that could have easily come off as unlikable.

Aaron Taylor Johnson also delivers some of the best acting of his career as an all-too-believable sociopath, with the filmmakers being confident enough to let the actor portray the character as a flawed human being instead of taking the easy way out and making him a cartoonish villain. It actually takes a while for you to register Johnson and his buddies as a genuine threat, but once things kick into gear, they quickly become some of the most hateable antagonists in fiction.

Other than the smorgasbord of memorable performances, the film also works as an intellectual exercise, letting viewers figure out the stories’ connections on their own time without spelling out any obvious answers. While certain recurring themes, like the contrasting depictions of masculinity, make it clear that there is an overarching narrative at work here, the story also functions at face value as a surprisingly harrowing thriller.

After all, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and the film’s individual pieces work on their own as excellent bits of genre entertainment, making it so that you can still enjoy Nocturnal Animals even if you’re not willing to engage with its narratological baggage.

What Makes it Horror Adjacent?

Backwoods horror may not be as prevalent now as it was back in the 70s, but it’s hard to watch the story-within-the-story of Nocturnal Animals and not be reminded of uncomfortable classics like Deliverance, Straw Dogs and even Wes Craven’s The Last House on the Left. Ford’s film may not be a bona-fide horror flick, especially during the melodramatic “real life” segments, but it certainly emulates a lot of genre thrills and even features an unexpected jump scare or two.

That being said, Johnson’s character and his gang come off as genuinely scary individuals precisely because of how stripped down the narrative is, with Ford (and Wright before him) forgoing common genre tropes and focusing on the primal emotions behind this awful situation. This grounded perspective transforms a familiar setup that could easily be the opening act of a Liam Neeson flick into a truly horrific ordeal.

Hell, the kidnapping itself feels so real that it could have been ripped straight from tabloid headlines (even if the ending gets a bit more symbolic), but the build-up is just as terrifying. It slowly dawns on the viewer that things are worse than they appear and there’s nothing that these characters can do to escape. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time that I was so uncomfortable while watching a movie, and the knowledge that this is just make-believe doesn’t actually make things any less terrifying, with audiences being left to question why exactly Edward would want Susan to read this.

Sure, the tension lets up a little bit once the family’s ordeal is concluded and Gyllenhaal’s character is left to pick up the pieces, but that first half of the story will certainly appeal to fans of realistic terror. I don’t quite agree with critics who accused Nocturnal Animals of being an exploitation flick, especially since it features some really poignant reflections on ill-fated relationships, but there’s no denying that the film has at least one foot in the horror genre.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post Arthouse Exploitation? Exploring the Meta-Horror of ‘Nocturnal Animals’ appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

And among these “dadpocalypse” stories, my personal favorite happens to be a strange little homage to classic rock ‘n roll that rides a chaotic line between genuine genre flick and feature-length Kurosawa-themed music video. Naturally, I’m referring to Lance Mungia’s 1998 low-budget opus, Six-String Samurai. An under-loved cult classic, this offbeat throwback deserves a place among the pantheon of great post-apocalyptic epics despite its decidedly humble origins.

Shot on weekends by a revolving crew of amateur filmmakers and oddball bandmates, Six-String Samurai freely borrows from plenty of pre-existing material in its attempt to create something completely new. From the dubbed dialogue and desert landscapes of a Sergio Leone spaghetti western to the beautifully choreographed swordplay of an Akira Kurosawa picture – all perfectly balanced with a poignant homage to the tragically departed musicians that first popularized rock ‘n roll – it’s pretty clear that the filmmakers succeeded in creating something that feels utterly unique.

Taking place after a retro nuclear war, the story here follows musician Buddy (Jeffrey Falcon, with his character implied to be the Buddy Holly) as he embarks on a perilous quest to Lost Vegas after the death of the “King”. Along the way, Buddy gains a pint-sized follower in the form of a seemingly mute child (Justin McGuire) while also being hunted by Death and his loyal bandmates, with several other factions also wishing to claim the vacant throne in a heated battle for dominance in the wasteland.

Despite this thrilling setup, Six-String Samurai was released to little fanfare, earning back a little over a hundred grand from its $2 million budget and not really making a splash with mainstream critics. Fortunately, the film would eventually find an audience on home video, with a sizable cult following gathering around the flick as it became known in online circles. This led to a much-deserved second life decades after the original release, with a high-definition version of the film finally resurfacing in 2021, courtesy of a valiant restoration effort by Vinegar Syndrome.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Some movies are like books, where the story grabs you with compelling characters and plot twists in an engrossing narrative. Other movies are more like paintings, offering a visually stunning slice of a certain mood or idea and allowing the viewer to immerse themselves in that living canvas. Six-String Samurai is clearly one of the latter, with Mungia preferring to focus on atmosphere and memorable action sequences rather than pesky little details like character motivations or backstories.

In the hands of a lesser filmmaker, this lack of detail might seem like a recipe for disaster, but in the case of a passion project like Six-String Samurai, it ends up creating the basis for one of the most entertaining “hangout movies” ever made. I mean, you’ve got to hand it to a flick that can provide completely different yet equally satisfying experiences when viewed as a serious commentary on the (then) future of rock ‘n roll, a loving pastiche of genre thrills, or even as background noise when entertaining a group of friends.

The kick-ass soundtrack alone is already worth the price of admission, with the idiosyncratic Red Elvises offering up a literal album’s worth of semi-ironic tracks that help to set the retro tone in this trek through a world where music has become something to die for. That’s not even mentioning the legitimately thrilling martial arts on display here (itself a master class in visual musicality), all choreographed by our leading man himself, Jeffrey Falcon.

Of course, the most important aspect behind Six-String Samurai’s longevity is also the simplest: it’s an undeniably fun movie. That’s why references to the flick pop up in everything from Tetsuro Takeuchi’s Wild Zero to the 3D Fallout games, with the fan favorite New Vegas borrowing quite a bit from Mungia’s bold setting.

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

From cannibalistic parodies of 1950s nuclear families to man-eating beasts (barely) brought to life by ridiculously lo-fi practical effects – not to mention having our main hero be pursued by a literal manifestation of Death that looks suspiciously like Guns ‘n Roses’ guitarist Slash – I think it’s pretty clear that this weird little movie is likely to be appreciated by most horror fans.

Sure, there isn’t much in the way of proper blood and gore despite the plethora of violent fight scenes and musical murder sprees, but that has more to do with obvious stylistic issues and budgetary constraints rather than any sort of genre prejudice. That being said, it’s hard not to get at least a little creeped out by the film’s eerie menagerie of tetanus-filled bars and child-eating couples. Plus, it’s no surprise that Stephane Gauger’s rocker version of Death is one hell of a terrifying villain, with his final showdown against Buddy serving as one of the film’s highlights.

With all that in mind, Six-String Samurai’s belated success can be interpreted as a motivational beacon for experimental genre filmmakers. After all, any film that continues to inhabit your mind long after the credits have rolled is guaranteed to eventually find an audience, regardless of budget or star power.

And as we see in the film, rock ‘n roll never truly dies.

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

The post ‘Six-String Samurai’ – The Glorious Madness of a “Dadpocalypse” Epic You Maybe Haven’t Seen appeared first on Bloody Disgusting!.

The biggest shame is that there were some legitimately thrilling cowboy movies made back then that would have been insanely successful had they been released in another time. My personal favorite of these misfires was Sam Raimi’s tragically underseen Western The Quick and the Dead, a 1995 Sharon Stone vehicle that deserves to be reappraised not only as a satirical pastiche but as a genuinely great example of a classic Western.

In the four years since Total Recall, Stone had established herself as a Hollywood titan and even began influencing the behind the scenes decisions on some of her movies. Among these more personal projects was Sony’s The Quick and the Dead, a spec script by Simon Moore inspired by the Westerns of Sergio Leone. Telling the story of The Lady (Stone), the film follows a mysterious female gunslinger who arrives in the town of Redemption and participates in a shooting competition that pits her against deadly killers. As the competition goes on, it becomes clear that the cash prize isn’t the only thing The Lady is after.

One of twelve other Westerns that filmed in ’94, production on The Quick and the Dead didn’t exactly go smoothly. The crew had to deal with costume shortages and cut corners on all fronts, which resulted in the movie feeling a bit less “epic” than intended. Sony even demanded that Moore’s original script be rewritten during shooting in order to achieve a more palpable runtime, further sabotaging the film.

Of course, the real tragedy here is how the finished movie ended up releasing to a lukewarm response despite all of the behind the scenes challenges. While it’s commonly believed that Raimi’s near-cartoony levels of exaggerated action likely alienated general audiences, I think it’s pretty clear that a general sense of genre fatigue and the fact that the lead character was a woman also had something to do with the film’s reception.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Sharon Stone was instrumental in getting the film made in the first place, signing on as co-producer and personally approving Raimi as the director due to his successful genre mashup in Army of Darkness. She also insisted on the casting of both Russell Crowe and Leonardo Dicaprio, going so far as to pay for the latter’s salary out of her own pocket.

This commitment to having the best possible team both in front of and behind the cameras meant that the film ended up with one of the most recognizable ensemble casts of the 90s and some serious talent in the visual department to back them up. Uniquely talented thespians like Gene Hackman and Mark Boone Junior share the screen as memorable cowboy archetypes while frequent Michael Mann collaborator Dante Spinotti frames the action beautifully – all accompanied by one of Alan Silvestri’s most exciting scores.

Of course, the real star of the show here is Raimi himself, with his penchant for creative camera setups making this one of the most stylish Westerns of all time. The frequent gun fights give the director a stage to show off some of the most impressive visual trickery of his career, with a sizable effects budget allowing for insanely creative shootouts. Sure, none of it is very realistic, but Raimi fans aren’t here for realism, they’re here to watch a gunshot from the bullet’s point of view!

WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

With a cast featuring the always memorable Keith David (who you may recognize from John Carpenter’s They Live, or even the recent Nope), Lance Henriksen (Aliens and Pumpkinhead) and a pre-Saw Tobin Bell, Raimi makes it pretty clear that you can take a director out of the horror genre, but you can’t take the horror out of the director. Hell, even Bruce Campbell shot a scene for the film, though it ultimately didn’t make it into the final cut.

However, it’s not the mere presence genre royalty that makes The Quick and the Dead a horror-adjacent picture, but how the film chooses to dispose of them. Raimi choreographs some of the most incredibly violent shoot-outs since the days of Sam Peckinpah, with bullets finding their targets in creative ways and leaving behind see-through wounds in a menagerie of blood and gunpowder.

From Sgt. Cantrell’s shocking demise to that explosive finale, a lot of people die in a lot of horrible ways in this movie. Things never quite reach Evil Dead levels of schlocky gore, but Raimi still made the most of his R-rating here, elevating the film’s homicidal tendencies to near comedic levels of absurdity. That being said, Evil Dead fans are sure to appreciate Raimi’s inimitable brand of dark humor during the film’s comedic moments, with the director perfecting the same kind of three-stooges-like physical comedy that originally turned Bruce Campbell into an icon.

Like the other Westerns of its time, Raimi and Stone’s bold little experiment didn’t exactly succeed in resurrecting the genre for a new generation, but it’s still an undeniably fun throwback with plenty of exaggerated kills that I think will be appreciated by horror fans. After all, what’s more horrific than having to live in the time of sweaty horses and outhouses?

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

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