The Thing from Another World

For years, there has been speculation that Christian Nyby's The Thing from Another World wasn't directed by Nyby but rather by producer Howard Hawks. Yes, Hawks' fingerprints are all over the dialogue (he was an uncredited writer) but bear in mind that Nyby had edited several of Hawks' movies; it's more than likely it merely rubbed off on Nyby.

Obviously, The Thing from Another World is starkly different from John Carpenter's remake thirty-one years later. Whereas the latter sees trust (and the cast) getting torn to shreds, the earlier film is your standard '50s monster picture. That said, it's a good watch all the same.

In comparison to other sci-fi titles of the era, The Thing from Another World doesn't serve as a Cold War/Red Scare allegory. Again, it's a straightforward monster movie, simple as that. It may be a B picture but even those have their merits.

Speaking of which, the practical effects of The Thing from Another World are, well, out of this world. From the titular thing (played by a pre-Gunsmoke James Arness) to the various pyrotechnics, it's a display that B movies don't skimp on where it matters.

The Thing from Another World shows that a simple premise can go a long way. And while it doesn't measure up to Carpenter's take, it still showcases a daringness regularly seen at that time. (And yes, Nyby directed this, not Hawks.)

My Rating: ****

The Stepfather

There's a great establishing shot early in Joseph Ruben's The Stepfather that helps set up what the viewer is getting into. After freshening up from murdering his family, Henry Morrison (Terry O'Quinn) descends the stairs -- and into the bloodshed he inflicted. Right from the get-go, we get the mood.

Fast-forward a year, and Henry -- now using the name Jerry Blake -- has remarried into a new family. But his stepdaughter Stephanie (Jill Schoelen) is wary of him. Are Stephanie's fears unwarranted or is there something lurking behind closed doors?

Some may not know this but The Stepfather was loosely based on the John List case. (List, however, would not be apprehended for another two years.) Admittedly, this plays more into the slasher movies of the time but the details of the List case make for a decent backstory in such a movie. Fact is stranger than fiction, after all...

It's also obvious that The Stepfather is a vehicle for O'Quinn and he alone but boy, what a vehicle for him. With a quirk of his lips or a raised eyebrow, he conveys more than a line of dialogue ever could. Only good actors can do that, especially in horror.

The Stepfather is admittedly standard '80s slasher fare but it's good standard '80s slasher fare. It differs in that usually the slasher in question isn't as cunning and calculating as Jerry Blake (and we should be grateful as such). But there are such people in real life -- so be aware (and beware).

My Rating: ****

Ginger Snaps

There's no denying that certain genres apply to certain metaphors better than others. Horror in general is the most common genre up for interpretation, focusing on real-life things the average person fears. Death, grief, the unknown -- all subjects no one wants answered.

Another topic serving as a metaphor in horror is puberty, which makes perfect sense. Changes, hormones, increased emotions -- all make for an ideal monster movie. And that's just what John Fawcett's Ginger Snaps is. (It helps that this was written by a woman.) Like Jennifer's Body nine years later, it proved monster movies weren't just for boys.

Sure, some might view the "menstruation as werewolf" metaphor as heavy-handed but writer Karen Walton makes it work. In the hands of someone else (read: someone who doesn't menstruate), it would come off as clumsy. Frankly, more women should write horror.

Released in a post-Columbine society, it had to have been daring to have Ginger Snaps make its presence. (Better that than, say, Heathers.) But at the same time, it was practically an ideal time to release it, what with Gen-X angst at an all-time high. Then again, it's a matter of opinion.

Ginger Snaps shows that horror benefits greatly from being told from a woman's perspective. With a genre often filled with misogyny, it's vital to have women tell these stories. (Mostly because they can handle certain subjects better than men.)

My Rating: ****

I Married a Witch

You know how some actors just need the right script to showcase their talents? Sometimes it involves playing against type, other times the role itself may parallel aspects of the actor's own life. But more often than not, it all boils down to taking a chance.

That's what's on full display in René Clair's I Married a Witch, courtesy of Veronica Lake. A year after the success of Sullivan's Travels, she shows a comedic panache that shows there was more to Lake than her glamor girl image (an image she was none too fond of). It makes one wish she had more opportunities.

Anyway, Clair only worked in Hollywood for a short while (he was more established in his native France) but even then, his touch is on full display in I Married a Witch. As an uncredited writer, he made Lake's character Jennifer more likable than her literary counterpart. As director, he plays the various practical effects beautifully.

Speaking of those practical effects, let's talk about those for a bit longer. In this day and age relying on green screens and computers, it's almost a breath of fresh air to see something more mundane being used. Makes one wish filmmakers would go back to basics.

I Married a Witch loses steam towards the end but Lake and Cecil Kellaway keep it afloat throughout. Clair may have only spent a handful of years in Hollywood but his impact was felt with the few projects he made there. And the same can be said of Lake.

My Rating: ****

Fifteen Years: A Retrospective

Well, I never thought I'd reach this milestone. Fifteen years of running this modest blog. (In fairness, I never thought I'd make it past five years of doing this. So to celebrate the very thing I've been sporadically working on for half my life now, I thought I'd go over the various highs and lows I endured. More after the jump.

Gun Crazy

From the first moment Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins) laid eyes on Bart Tare (John Dall) in Joseph H. Lewis' Gun Crazy, their fates were sealed. Their first interaction crackled with an energy you can only find in a picture from after World War II. (With a script co-penned by a blacklisted Dalton Trumbo, can you go wrong?)

Acting like a post-war Bonnie and Clyde (Cummins even dresses like Faye Dunaway would the following decade), they commit robberies and live off their takes. But Bart knows this can't last forever so what will win out: his conscience or Laurie's insistence?

Dall nowadays is known for this and Rope, and it's interesting to see him play essentially both his and Farley Granger's roles from the earlier film in Gun Crazy. His Bart has Brandon's fascination for violence but also Phillip's nervous disposition towards it. To think there's only a two-year gap between the films.

But Cummins is the real draw of Gun Crazy. A devious mind beneath an innocent facade, her Laurie captures the more explosive nature of film noir of the era. (Laurie's bloodlust is prevalent in later titles of the genre.) Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, indeed.

Gun Crazy showcases the wanton desire of darkness lurking within human behavior, how even supposedly decent people crave danger. Even in the post-WWII era of filmmaking where everyone was pushing boundaries with each passing year, Lewis in particular was front and center. And boy, are we grateful for it.

My Rating: *****

2,000 Posts!

Frankly, I'm surprised to have been going at this for as long as I have, what with Defiant Success's fifteenth (!) anniversary in August.

Admittedly, a good chunk of the posts here aren't reviews but I'm still counting them for the impressive tally of two thousand posts since August 2009. Obviously, I would've made a bigger deal out of it but it slipped my mind and today's something of a somber anniversary for me (it's been eleven years since my father died suddenly). And my blogging has been sporadic these last few years courtesy of current events and my own mental health but I'll try to make up for lost time.

Anyway, here's to 2,000 posts and to another 2.000.

Suspiria

At first glance, Dario Argento's Suspiria appears seemingly innocuous. Suzy Bannion (Jessica Harper) arrives in Germany to attend a dance academy. But it becomes clear that as soon as she steps out of the airport something's...off.

Indeed, the general feeling of Suspiria is that something just isn't quite right. And Argento ensures that throughout, be it with the music (courtesy of him and Italian band Goblin) or simply the staging of the scene, there's that lingering sensation that all is not what it seems. And it isn't.

Made during a time when the horror genre was getting (pardon the pun) fresh blood, Suspiria -- amongst his other titles of the time -- showed that Argento was on that roster. Amid the likes of Brian De Palma and John Carpenter, he shows a more lurid fascination with bloodshed. Who'd have thought there's a beauty in it?

Akin to Cat People back in 1942 (and The Brood two years later), Suspiria revels in unease amid normalcy. Everything should be completely fine but that nagging feeling keeps gnawing at our lead. But how long until that question of "what's wrong?" gets cruelly answered?

Suspiria is a barrage on the senses in the best way possible. Argento immortalizes himself with a film that lingers in the mind long after watching it. And it's little wonder that there have been many admirers and imitators over the years; it's just there can only be one version of it.

My Rating: *****

Film and Book Tally 2023

Another year down the drain. And yet another year of me not getting a lot done. The lists start after the cut:

Film and Book Tally 2022

Another year done, another year of not achieving much creativity-wise. Eh, but I'm still here (mostly) so that's a minor win. (Oh, and I started a Letterboxd account during one of the Twitter scares but there's not much there so far.) Y'all know the drill by this point.