The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster

Monsters are like bad movies. Nobody intentionally sets out to make either one, but they happen anyway. In this case, Vicaria’s intentions are good. She wants to resurrect her older brother Chris, who was killed far too young. Of course, playing God always turns out to be an act of dangerous hubris in films, as is indeed the case in Bomani J. Story’s The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster, which opens today in theaters.

According to Vicaria, she isn’t just trying to bring Chris back to life. Her true spiration is to cure death. If she could cure taxes too, that would be great. Obviously, she is aware of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, because she labeled her lab journal “The Modern Prometheus.” Story also has seen a few Frankenstein films in his time, judging from the crackling electricity that powers her experiments and a pivotal line of third act dialogue that transparently echoes Bride of Frankenstein. Heck, maybe Vicaria’s surname is even Frankenstein. It is coyly never revealed, but we know it is unusual and sounds “German.”

Like every Frankenstein Monster, the re-animated Chris turns out to be far more violent and far less rational than Vicaria hoped. At least he has plenty of potential victims in their economically depressed neighborhood. There are the cops everybody hates and Kango’s drug gang, who prey on their human frailties. Sadly, Vicaria’s father has been one of their regular customers, since her mother was killed by a stray bullet.

In terms of style and tone, Angry is somewhat akin Michael O’Shea’s The Transfiguration. Without question, Story emphasizes the socio-economic circumstances of the characters, but it is not as didactic as you might fear. True, Vicaria’s best friend Aisha is all-in for woke Columbus rants, but they sound as counter-productive as Vicaria’s experiments turn out to be.

Back in Drive-Ins: Al Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein

Through no merit of its own, this grade-Z exploitation movie keeps winning the distribution lottery. It reached its initial viewers on the drive-in circuit, which was the intended destination for most of director-distributor Al Adamson’s movies. Then it had a second life as one of the earliest VHS releases. Suddenly, drive-in distribution is a thing again, so it is headed back to outdoor screens. However, this time Adamson’s Dracula vs. Frankenstein will be serving a good cause when original star Zandor Vorkov makes rare personal appearances to support blood drives during the era of the CCP-Virus. The next stop for D vs. F (as part of a double-bill with Adamson’s Brain of Blood) and the “Vampire’s Blood Oath” will be the Family Drive-In (VA), this Wednesday and Thursday.

Wheelchair-bound Dr. Durea (if that is his real name, which of course it isn’t) runs a tacky yet shockingly realistic Venice Beach house of horrors, featuring Island of Dr. Moreau style monstrosities—and a functioning guillotine. Durea is actually the last of the Frankensteins, who is still secretly in the old family business. Somehow, Dracula knew this and also had the inside info on where Frankenstein’s enemies buried his last stitched together monster. Much to the crazy doctor’s surprise, Dracula wants to join forces, because he believes serum Frankenstein is perfecting will make him even more invincible. Remember, this doesn’t have to make sense. It is just supposed to fill time while teenagers made out in their cars and bought concessions.

Meanwhile, Las Vegas showgirl Judith Fontain has come to Venice looking for her hippy sister, who has become the latest victim of Groton, Dr. Frankenstein’s zombie hunchback (the monster named after an elite prep school). The cops are no help and the bikers don’t want anyone asking questions about their former customers. Fortunately, she falls into the pad of sensitive swinger Mike, who will help her amateur investigation. They are not the brightest people, but they still quickly identify Durea’s Creature Emporium as a prime site of suspicion.

D vs. F has a reputation for murkiness that is well deserved. There are old prints out there that look like it was filmed in Manos-Vision. Yet, it kind of fits this movie. Ed Wood films are so bad they’re good. Human Centipedes are so bad they’re repellent. D vs. F is so bad, its surreal. After watching it, you have to remind yourself you live in a world with decent natural lighting, where the laws of nature apply with logical consistency.

What The!? ’19: Depraved

In 1930’s Universal movies, Transylvania is the homeland of monsters. In Larry Fessenden’s latest film, monsters come from Brooklyn, namely Gowanus. That is much more believable, isn’t it? In fact, this is could well be the grungiest, most realistic take on Mary Shelley’s classic characters yet. New sentient life will get sutured together, but it isn’t exactly grateful for the favor after it experiences the Brooklyn scene in Fessenden’s Depraved, which premiered as the opening night selection of the What The Fest!?.

Alex, an obnoxious Brooklynite, is about to be murdered, but he will be back—at least a piece of him will, as a ghostly remnant within the hulking body Dr. Henry (surname cagily not identified) has stitched together from body parts. Occasionally, the new life form dubbed “Adam” experiences flashes of Alex’s memory, but not enough to help him make sense of the world.

His name is not intended as a Biblical reference. Instead, it has more personal meaning for the former military doctor turned mad scientist. This Dr. Frankenstein is not as blinded by vainglory and hubris as his cinematic predecessors. His desire to conqueror death was kindled by his service performing battlefield triage. Unfortunately, he largely lost his sense of perspective in the process. Needless to say, his financial backer, the entitled hipster Polidori was not a constructive influence.

Depraved looks like it was filmed in a shuttered Gowanus industrial building, because it really was. The is definitely the grittiest, least tweedy Frankenstein riff that openly advertises itself as such (for the record, there is an even grimier film involving a Frankenstein-like mad doctor on the festival circuit, but its Modern Prometheus connections are supposed to come as a surprise revelation). Regardless, Fessenden’s film definitely feels like it came straight out of Gowanus, with all the attitude and industrial waste that implies.

As Adam, Alex Breaux brings to life (so to speak) one of the most doleful movie monsters since Universal’s glory years. With his awkward hesitancy and confusion, he resembles a more nebbish Lon Chaney Jr. Likewise, David Call’s portrayal of Henry is unusually morally conflicted by genre movie standards.

Joshua Leonard (returning to his Blair Witch horror movie roots) is abrasively annoying and convincingly petulant and immature as Polidori. Yet, Addison Timlin might be who genre fans remember most, combining humor and pathos in her all too brief appearance as Shelley, the Iggy Pop listener Adam kind of-sort of picks up in a hipster bar. It is a very well-written and well-played sequence that serves as an analog to the Karloff monster fatally throwing the little girl into the lake.

As viewers should be able to tell from many of the character names, Depraved often alludes to the original novel and traditionally gothic films in sly ways. In what will be a relief to many, the film is not at all as lectury as one might expect, despite Henry’s military background and the fundamental folly-of-playing-god-theme (especially compared to Fessenden’s The Last Winter). Altogether, it is a pretty impressive work of ultra-indie auteurist horror cinema. Highly recommended for Frankenstein and Fessenden fans, Depraved had its premiere last night, as part of this year’s What The Fest.

Scary Movies 9: Frankenstein

In a world of human embryo cloning and Dolly the Sheep, Mary Shelley’s Modern Prometheus is no longer as outlandish as we would want it to be. Arguably, the time is ripe for contemporary take on the legend and Bernard Rose, the prolific modernizer of Tolstoy and director of Candyman, is a logical choice to do it. Transporting the monster from Geneva to Los Angeles, Rose takes intriguing liberties while remaining oddly faithful to the iconic tale in Frankenstein (trailer here), which screens as part of the closing night tribute to the British filmmaker at the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Scary Movies 9.

This might shock you, but the wealthy Dr. Viktor Frankenstein and his wife Elizabeth have been trying to create a living human being (with the help of their senior staff scientist, Dr. Pretorius). Initially, they believe their latest attempt is the breakthrough they have hoped for, until cancerous lesions start appearing all over his formerly pristine body. Despite his bonding with Elizabeth Frankenstein like an infant with his mother, both Frankensteins agree to euthanize their creation for ostensive reasons of mercy. However, the increasingly disfigured creature just will not die.

Escaping from the compound, the wretched soul accepts the wider world’s name for him: “Monster.” He soon has a nasty run-in with LA’s Finest, but falls in with a homeless blind bluesman. The protective Eddie is the first person to truly treat him like a human being. Unfortunately, Eddie’s misunderstanding of the extent and nature of Monster’s blighted appearance will lead to compounded tragedy.

Rose riffs on Shelley and the original Universal films in clever ways, honoring the spirit of both. He follows the same general trajectory of his Frankenstein predecessors, but he does so within a distinctly gritty, naturalistic urban environment. The grey concrete labs and scuzzy welfare hotels are fitting backdrops for the ultimate genre morality tale, while also presumably accommodating his budget constraints.

Danny Huston (a regular Rose repertory player) is absolutely perfect as the arrogant Dr. Frankenstein and Carrie-Anne Moss plays off him well as the deceptively warm and supposedly empathetic Elizabeth Frankenstein. Despite his small stature, Xavier Samuel is still impressively expressive as the largely inarticulate Monster, especially considering the escalating layers of makeup that masks him for most of the film. However, it is Tony Todd, the Candyman himself, who really anchors the film with tragic gravitas as blind Eddie.

Rose somewhat misfires with a rogue cop subplot that seems calculated give the film further zeitgeisty urgency, but it comes across as a heavy-handed distraction. In fact, a film depicting the creation of life through, amongst other things, the use of 3D printing, without regard for the ethical implications, is already pretty timely. Regardless, Rose’s mise-en-scéne is austerely stylish and often quite visually striking. Altogether, the film is quite in keeping with cautionary essence of the original novel, while Randy Westgate’s ghoulish make-up design gives this Monster his own distinctive look. Recommended for Frankenstein fans, Rose’s Frankenstein screens this Thursday (11/5) at the Walter Reade, as part of Scary Movies 9.

Fantasia ’15: Director’s Commentary: Terror of Frankenstein

It is past time the Library of Congress added Plan 9 from Outer Space to the National Film Registry—not due to artistic merit, but because it is culturally significant. Arguably, no film is more responsible for the Midnight Movie phenomenon. Indirectly, the Rifftrax/MST3K guys probably owe their careers to Ed Wood. While they probably remain the gold standard of sarcastic talking back to the screen, Tim Kirk raises the stakes for ironic genre commentary by creating a wild meta-fictional backstory for a very real film. Director Gavin Merrill and his estranged screenwriter will reveal the whole sordid truth behind the production of their ill-fated Marry Shelly adaptation in Director’s Commentary: Terror of Frankenstein (trailer here), which screens tonight during the 2015 Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal.

Merrill’s Swedish-Irish co-production Terror of Frankenstein is an actual film—and its not terrible. For years, it had a bit of cache as the Frankenstein film most faithful to the original Shelly, but according to Merrill’s newly recorded DVD commentary track we will be listening to, it has recently become quite infamous due to a related criminal case. After years of legal wrangling, a prominent cast-member has finally been executed, so Merrill is scrambling to cash-in.

If that sounds somewhat crass, screenwriter David Falks agrees. In case you are looking at its imdb page, Merrill and Falks supposedly used their “Calvin & Yvonne Floyd” pseudonym, dating back to their experimental theater days. In any event, Falks is only participating in order to correct certain misconceptions propagated by the tabloid media.

The way Kirk constructs a strangely disturbing narrative out of their bickering and bitter reminiscences is quite a feat of storytelling. He doles out revelations slowly, sometimes almost casually, but we quickly get a sense that there was a higher body count behind-the-scenes than on the screen.

Frankly, it is almost shocking that Commentary has not generated any angry protests, because in several instances it creates less than flattering alternate histories for prominent cast-members, most notably including Nicholas Clay (Patrick Redfern in Evil Under the Sun) and Per Oscarsson (seen in the Swedish Lisbeth Salander trilogy). However, Leon Vitali (best known as a Kubrick crony and co-star of Barry Lyndon) is quite the good sport playing himself.

Sometimes Commentary is blackly comical, but it is aiming more for uncomfortable insights into human nature than big belly laughs. In some ways, it is an experience not unlike listening to Orson Welles lose his cool while recording that notorious frozen peas radio commercial. Having produced Rodney Ascher’s Room 237 and The Nightmare, Kirk has keen handle on directing faceless voices for the big screen. (In a bit of a role reversal, Ascher takes on the producing and editing duties this time around.) They also get some first class voice acting from Clu Gulager (no stranger to genre fans) and Zack Norman (Danny Devito’s cousin in Romancing the Stone), as Merrill and Falks, respectively.

Believe it or not, Commentary makes you want to watch Terror of Frankenstein again, straight, sans voice-overs. Yet, it will never be the same innocent film once you have seen Kirk’s hyper-meta fabulization. (FYI, its on Fandor.) Wonderfully subversive yet chocked full of cultist genre love, Director’s Commentary: Terror of Frankenstein is very highly recommended when it screens tonight (7/19) as part of this year’s Fantasia.

Penny Dreadful: Victorian London by Night

George Sanders played Dorian Gray for MGM, so he never could have guest-starred in one of Universal’s multi-monster meet-ups. Showtime’s newest series hints at what strange cinema that might have been. It also makes you wonder how anyone survived Victorian London, with its vampires, re-animated corpses, and generally unsanitary living conditions. The former will be the most pressing issue in the first two episodes of writer-creator John Logan’s Penny Dreadful (promo here), which premieres this Sunday.

When a mysterious woman offers American Wild West performer Ethan Chandler some “night work,” he agrees, because she is played by Eva Green. Unfortunately, it turns out turns out she really needs his sharpshooter skills. Vanessa Ives and Sir Malcolm Murray require some back-up when they venture into a vampire’s lair, in search of his long missing daughter. Frustratingly for them, the search will continue, but at least Murray recruits an intense young anatomist to perform all his vampire autopsy needs: Victor Frankenstein.

Needless to say, what Chandler witnesses is a bit unsettling. It is the sort of thing that requires a lot of binge drinking to process in episode two. Proceeding accordingly, Chandler makes the acquaintance of Brona Croft, an Irish working girl, who will soon count Dorian Gray as a client. Since this is premium cable, Gray and his appetites will clearly be supplying most of the sex and nudity quota each week.

Representing a quarter of Dreadful’s initial eight episode run, “Night Work” (currently available online here) and “Séance” are definitely hooky-grabby and absolutely loaded with macabre atmosphere. Helmed with style by J.A. Bayona (director of The Orphanage), they get a lot of mileage from their classic horror tropes. In a few cases, you basically know what is coming, but jump anyway. However, the second episode is further distinguished by the titular séance, which gives Green an opportunity for a massive William Shatner level freak-out. It is not quite at the level of Isabelle Adjani’s supernatural paroxysms in Possession, but that will probably be never be equaled by anybody.

For the most part, Green does her slinky, smarter-than-thou thing and it works like a charm. Timothy Dalton, the criminally underappreciated Bond (after all, Pierce Brosnan succeeded him and we know how that worked out), is appropriately steely as Murray, with a spot of mature dash. While not exactly a naturally strong screen presence, Henry Treadaway’s Frankenstein compensates with plenty of twitchy scenery chewing. Frankly, Josh Harnett broods rather effectively as Chandler, but the jury is still out regarding just what Reeve Carney’s Gray brings to the party. Conversely, even though we hardly meet him in the first two installments, Danny Sapani is clearly poised to become a potential fan favorite as Murray’s imposing majordomo.

It feels like Dreadful will soon be a binge-watching favorite, making good on the unfulfilled promise of the Van Helsing film. With Skyfall’s Sam Mendes on board as executive producer, it has the quality period trappings of BBC historicals, but its heart is closer to late period Hammer films. So far, so good, Penny Dreadful is definitely recommended for vintage horror fans, when it premieres tomorrow (5/11) on Showtime.

Tribeca ’13: Frankenstein’s Army

Okay, it’s a little creepy, but animating dead bodies has obvious military advantages. The National Socialists would be just the sort to develop such technology. In fact, the grandson of a certain controversial scientist has apparently cobbled together quite a monstrous division of soldiers in Richard Raaphorst’s Frankenstein’s Army, a midnight selection of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Dimitri is a graduate of Soviet film school filming a small recon squad in the field. Less than thrilled to be shepherding the would-be documentarian and his nebbish assistant, the commanding officer busts their chops every chance he gets.  Everyone is on edge since radio contact with headquarters was cut-off.  Suddenly, a mysterious distress call lures them to a remote monastery, whose occupants were gruesomely murdered by a mysterious force.  You can probably guess where things are headed from here, even if the Commies can’t.

The potential midnight movie appeal of Nazis vs. re-animated freaks needs no explanation, but Frankenstein’s Army is poorly served by its found footage structure.  That it is in color frankly makes no sense.  Hardcore cineastes will also be disappointed Dimitri, the Soviet Tarantino, never nods towards the work of Eisenstein Vertov that should supposedly have inspired him, not that this will be foremost in the minds of late night patrons.  However, they will notice when he “cheats” with the conceit.

On the other hand, Raaphorst is on pretty solid ground in the manner he depicts the Red Army.  Hardly liberators, they are more like marauders, committing war crimes against the local peasantry that the commander not so discretely censors.  Likewise, it becomes clear their Soviet masters do not care about the soldiers’ safety. In fact, they have a secret agenda in the whole horrific affair.

The Frankenstein monsters are also quite inventive in a ghoulish way, looking like a rogue’s gallery of Silent Hill creatures decked out in Nazi regalia.  While Karel Roden has plenty of genre cred, his mad doctor’s character is sadly underdeveloped. There is an intriguing hint of a backstory involving the Frankenstein family’s complicated relationship with the German state, but Raaphorst never fully capitalizes on the Frankenstein legacy (after all, if he is the grandson, than Basil Rathbone’s Baron Wolf von Frankenstein must be his father, right?).

Army’s gory effects and make-up are definitely first-rate.  Cult movies fans looking for a few grisly thrills should find it adequate, but those hoping for more given its historical context will probably be disappointed.  Earning points for its realistic portrayal of the Soviet war machine, Frankenstein’s Army is recommended for Silent Hill franchise fans (which it so resembles) when it screens again tonight (4/20) during the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival.

House of Monsters: Oscar-Qualified and Ready to Haunt the Festival Circuit

You’d think monsters would be anti-social, but strangely enough, they can often be found sharing haunted digs.  This leads to a bit of friction between the Mummy and the Frankensteins.  Alas, the former pharaoh gets the worst of it in Dawn Brown’s stop-motion animated short House of Monsters, which just completed an Oscar qualifying run at the Laemmle and should now have plenty of festival action ahead of it.

One of the drawbacks of being undead is dry itchiness of desiccated skin.  Fortunately, there is a mad scientist in the house to prescribe something for the Mummy.  Once quite the catch, he would like to put the moves on Frankenstein’s Bride.  Despite an assist from Dracula, things turn out rather badly for him.  No worries.  Classic monsters never die, they just come back for revenge later.

Brown, a frequent animator and special effects artist on Tim Burton films, is something of a one-man band on House, serving as writer, director, animator, and producer.  Animation enthusiasts should be duly impressed by the quality and rich detail of Brown’s work here.  It is easy to see why she has been in such demand.  In fact, one might suspect her contributions have been the best part of many big budget films she has worked on.  While House is a complete, self-contained (but admittedly brief) story, it could easily serve as a pilot or constituent episode of a longer monster project in the future.

Also an artist for Vampirella comic books, Brown clearly understands and shares the enduring affection for these characters. Indeed, you can never go wrong with the iconic undead scampering about an old dark house.  While never too macabre for children, the real audience will probably be nostalgic adults who read Famous Monsters of Filmland as pre-teens and never outgrew their love of the classic Universal monster movies.  (The opening title even evokes Ackerman’s famous fan magazine’s type treatment.)

At just over seven minutes, most fans will be left wanting more, which is probably the idea.  Recommended for animations connoisseurs and famous creature lovers, House of Monsters should be coming to a festival near you soon and deserves a serious look come awards season.