Kimo Stamboel’s Janur Ireng: Sewu Dino the Prequel

Sabdo and Intan Kuncoro are like the poor relations of a gothic novel. After their father dies and their house burns down, their wealthy Uncle Arjo takes them into his home. The hyper-class-conscious might suspect the hardscrabble siblings will never be considered full members of Arjo’s family, but their uncle and his wife Lasmini are only too eager to accept them. Of course, there are terrifying reasons for this in Kimo Stamboel’s Janur Ireng: Sewu Dino the Prequel, which just opened in Cambodia and Vietnam (with EST N8 currently repping other territories).

Don’t worry if you haven’t seen Stamboel’s Sewu Dino. This is the prequel, so newcomers can easily follow the story, based on SimpleMan’s online story (just like Stamboel’s Dancing Village: The Curse Begins)—at least until the final scene somewhat bafflingly links it back to the prior (subsequent) film.

Regardless, orphaned Sabdo and Intan are rather intimidated by their stately new home. Indeed, despite the luxury, the Kuncoro manor absolutely drips with bad vibes. The decidedly gothic set-up soon takes a rather folk horror turn when Uncle Arjo forces Sabdo to sacrifice a goat. In fact, such ceremonies become a bizarrely regular thing.

It turns out their late father had good reasons for cutting ties with his brother’s branch of the family. These Kuncoros are scary people and Sabdo’s prospective role will be especially ominous, involving rites and literal demons. What transpires probably holds a great deal of tragic irony for those who have seen the original Sewu Dino (which currently streams on Prime). However, it probably lands with even greater force for those who haven’t.

Either way, there is an extended scene of third act lunacy that is so jaw-droppingly over-the-top, it ought to make Janur Ireng a cult classic and a perennial favorite for midnight movie screenings. You’ll know it when you see it. Yet, before that, Stamboel crafts a moody folk horror film, rich with atmosphere and foreboding.

Schrader’s Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist

If ever there was a “cursed” film, this film would be it. For starters, John Frankenheimer was hired to direct, but had to withdraw for health reasons, tragically passing away shortly thereafter. Paul Schrader took his place, stepping into what would be one of his worst studio battles (and he had more than his share). Eventually, they hired yet another director to re-write, re-edit, and largely re-shoot the picture, but the results were so poorly received, Schrader was brought back to reshape his original footage into something salvageable. Eventually, his cut released one day after Star Wars: Revenge of the Stith opened. Cursed, right? However, William Peter Blatty had some nice things to say about Schrader’s Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist, which viewers can judge for themselves when it airs Tuesday night on the Movies! digital channel.

Arguably, the cruelty of the National Socialists Father Lankester Merrin witnesses in the prologue might be worse than that of the demon. The young Dutch parish priest was forced to make a horrific “Sophie’s Choice.” Since then, his position in the Church has been iffy and his faith even iffier. While he and they decide his future as a priest, Merrin works on archaeological digs throughout Africa, as a civilian.

His latest excavation in Kenya is a little….weird. Apparently, a pristine 5^th Century Byzantine church was buried under the sand as soon as it was completed. The art and architecture inside are stunning, but uncharacteristically, the statues of the Archangel Michael are pointed downward, in a protective posture.

As we all expect, inexplicable violent incidents start happening after the site is unearthed. The local tribe is particularly restive, so Major Granville arrives with his troops, which only further fans unrest. Father Merrin tries to defuse tempers, with the help of Father Francis, a devout missionary, and Dr. Rachel Lesno, a Holocaust survivor, who also suffers from painful memories of the war.

While the village and tribe descend into hatred, Cheche, the shunned beggar afflicted with woeful birth defects, makes a suspiciously “miraculous” recovery. Of course, horror fans know if something looks too good to be true, it is probably very bad news.

Reportedly, the studio wanted more jump scares, earlier and more consistently. Yet, the thoughtfulness of Schrader’s cut is its greatest strength. Obviously, we know what is coming. Ironically, the more Schrader forestalls the fire and brimstone, the more suspense he builds. The script, originally credited to William Wisher and Caleb Carr explores themes of evil and faith with surprising insight. Again, this adds further fuel to the demonic horrors, when they finally come. Plus, the design work that produced the hidden church is quite amazing.

Stellan Skarsgard and Gabriel Mann are both terrific as the good Fathers. Skarsgard broods quietly as the pre-Exorcist Father Merrin, but there is also deep complexity to his portrayal. Mann’s Father Francis is admirably earnest, but not simplistic. Clara Bellair also tacks a shrewdly understated approach to playing the survivor’s guilt-plagued Dr. Lesno. However, Billy Crawford looks completely out-of-place as Cheche and the way the character’s physical deformities are presented is also questionable.

Apartment 7A, on Paramount+

In Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, Terry Gionoffrio was an in-joke. The troubled woman was one of Minnie and Roman’s Castevets’ pet projects, whom the title character initially confuses for Victoria Vetri, the actress who played her (under the name Angela Dorian, which Vetri also used for her Playboy modeling). Now Gionoffrio gets her own film, a prequel that sometimes overlaps with Polanski’s classic. Of course, her arrangement with the Castevets will be just as Faustian in Natalie Erika James’ Apartment 7A, which premieres Friday on Paramount+.

Gionoffrio came to New York with a dream and a talent for dance, but neither gets her very far, even before she takes a bad landing on her ankle. Desperate for a part, she came to the Bramford (a.k.a. the Dakota), hoping to plead her case with Alan Marchand, a Broadway producer living there. Instead, she faints into the arms of the Castevets, who immediately recognize the potential usefulness of her youth and desperation.

Out of the goodness of their hearts, they offer to put her up in their spare apartment, rent-free. They clearly have boundary issues, but Gionoffrio simply cannot refuse. It turns out to be a heck of a deal when Marchand casts her for the chorus line of his latest production. Her luck is changing, but she still gets bad vibes from the Bramford, especially when Gionoffrio starts to suspect someone secretly enters her apartment when she is not there.

It might seem sacrilegious to make a prequel to a classic like Polanski’s film, but there was already a made-for-TV sequel in 1976 and a miniseries in 2014 that adapted both Rosemary’s Baby and Ira Levin’s sequel, Son of Rosemary, so ample precedent has already been set. As it turns out, James and co-screenwriters Christian White and Skylar James do an excellent job on the micro level, rather seamlessly weaving the narrative of this film around the unforgettable events of the 1968 classic.

However, they are not as successful on the macro level, failing to land the moments of feverish weirdness and terrifying demonic dread that made Polanski’s film so powerful. Frankly, the tension only really elevates during an apartment invasion sequence that is entirely human in nature.

The First Omen, on DVD

Recently, nuns have been like the red-shirted disposable crew-members of horror movies, especially in Immaculate, which wasn’t otherwise special in any way. A new novitiate is duly in for very similar treatment in this film. In fact, it could almost be considered a remake, even though it only opened in theaters a few weeks later, but [badly] retconned into the Omen franchise. One thing is for certain, someone must be getting pregnant eventually in Arkasha Stevenson’s prequel, The First Omen, which releases today on DVD and BluRay.

Ironically, the prologue serves up the film’s scariest scene, featuring a slightly younger Father Brennan (played by Patrick Troughton, the second Doctor [Who] in the original film). Alas, it is mostly downhill from there. Eerily like Sydney Sweeney in Immaculate, naïve prospective “Sister” Margaret has been lured to an ominous Italian convent-orphanage by Cardinal Lawrence, her old trusted priest, who now is part of a shadowy cabal within the Church.

Again, she befriends a comparatively free-spirited fellow novitiate, Luz, in whom Margaret confides her concerns, including the apparent abuse of Carlita, an orphan who suffers from disturbing visions. Sound familiar yet? However, First Omen has Father Brennan to warn Margaret there are sinister things afoot at the convent, if she hadn’t noticed yet.

By far, the best thing going for First Omen is the perfectly cast Ralph Ineson as Father Brennan. He definitely has the right sort of grizzled Peter Cushing-esque intensity for Antichrist-busting priest.

However, the film waters down Fr. Brennan’s backstory, ditching his past sexual transgressions, which allowed the Satanic faction temporarily corrupt him. Stevenson and co-screenwriters Tim Smith and Keith Thomas go further, somewhat de-Satanizing the secret Devil-worshiping cabal, turning them into bizarre uber-Catholic fanatics seeking to hasten the Antichrist’s arrival to “scare” people back to the Church. Right, what could go wrong with that plan?

Chief Detective 1958, on Hulu

Lee Je-hoon’s unit is like the “Untouchables” of post-Korean War Seoul. Unfortunately, the rest of the Jongnam station is very touchable. Awkwardly, the station captain is probably the most corrupt of the whole crooked Jongnam lot. To fight crime and serve the common good, Lee and his teammates must frequently work around their colleagues and superiors in creator Park Jae-beom’s Chief Detective 1958, which starts streaming today on Hulu.

Eventually, Lee becomes the revered central character in the vintage early 1970s K-drama Chief Inspector, to which Chief Detective 1958 serves as a prequel. However, when the new standalone series opens, Lee is new in town, having just transferred from Hwangchun, where he set the national record for arresting cow thieves. He figures he should keep arresting criminals in Seoul, but the blatantly corrupt Choi Dal-sik keeps releasing them and forcing him to apologize.

Yu Dae-cheon, the honest leader of Investigative Unit #1, counsels patience, but Lee is spoiling for a fight. He finds a natural ally in Kim Sang-sun, the hard-charging Lethal Weapon-like detective nicknamed “Mad Dog” because of his habit of biting suspects. They soon recruit Jo Gyeong-hwan, a burly laborer, who is tired of seeing average folk getting pushed around. They also poach the college-educated Seo Ho-jeong from Unit #2, because Lee understands they can use someone like Charles Martin Smith’s forensic accountant in de Palma’s The Untouchables.

Unit #1 will definitely fight corruption in the Jongnam station over the course of the series, but they also work separate, discrete cases each episode. Out of the first four episodes, their plan to catch a band of armed bank robbers in episode three, “Highwaymen,” is the best written and directed. We have all seen thousands of bank heists on TV, but Park and writer Kim Young-shim come up with some wild new wrinkles.

The case of infants murdered by an evil orphanage in episode four, “Yellow Turtle,” is so grim, it out SVUs Law & Order SVU. To its credit, it also challenges attitudes towards disability. Unfortunately, many of the American servicemen depicted in episode two, “The Headstrong Unit of Jongnam,” are just villainous caricatures. No matter how virulent racist attitudes were in the 1950s, there is no way a white 2^nd Lieutenant would dare strike a Korean American First Lieutenant and expect to get away with it. The American military has had a few issues in the past, but chain of command is absolutely sacrosanct.

Pet Sematary: Bloodlines, on Paramount+

Stephen King is Maine’s most famous author, but he hardly promotes state tourism. For instance, fictional Ludlow’s most notable landmark is its infamous animal burial ground. Who wants to visit? As we know, people rarely leave town, but “sometimes they come back.” The sinister backstory of the 2019 remake is explored in Lindsey Anderson Beer’s Pet Sematary: Bloodlines, which premieres Friday on Paramount+, because its Halloween season.

Jud Crandall will grow up to look like John Lithgow (or Fred Gwynne in the 1989 film), but in the 1960s, he was an undrafted teen, planning to leave home as a Peace Corps volunteer, along with his girlfriend Norma. His dad Dan Crandall wants him to get out of town, because he knows the town’s evil secret.

So does Bill Baterman, the son of Crandall’s estranged childhood friend Timmy, who just returned from Vietnam, except he didn’t really. However, by burying his dead son in the shunned cemetery, he rises again—but of course, he is different. The revived Timmy Baterman is nasty and sadistic. He seems to know people’s darkest secrets, which he reveals to toy with his potential prey.

To the credit of Beer and co-screenwriter Jeff Buhler, they do not simply remake the original story fiftysome years earlier. Instead, they focus on Timmy Baterman, who was the subject of Crandall’s monologue in the original 1989 film. They also explore the town’s early lore, some of which is new to Bloodlines, but still feels very King-ish.

Frankly, Bloodlines is a much better film than the disappointing 2019 Pet Sematary, to which it ostensibly serves as a prequel. It definitely helps that it is its own film, so it cannot be directly compared to Mary Lambert’s version. Right from the start, Beer’s execution hits the appropriately eerie notes, without radically reinventing the franchise.

The Wandering Earth II

In the hit 2019 film and Liu Cixin’s original source novella, the Earth made like the Moon did in Space: 1999, spinning out of its orbit and into space. However, in the case of the Wandering Earth, this was done deliberately, to save humanity from its dying sun. It took a lot of work to make it happen. In the first movie, Earth escapes the sun, but the prequel shows how we handled the Moon first. Prepare for a whole lot of talk about the Roche Limit in Frant Gwo’s The Wandering Earth II, which just opened today in theaters worldwide.

Chinese astronaut Liu Peiqiang will save (or has saved) the Earthly civilization in The Wandering Earth I. It turns out, he will now do it again, or rather has done it before. The film starts with a well-orchestrated terrorist attack against the space-elevator servicing what was then called “The Moving Mountain Project.” It is a brilliantly realized, extended action sequence, but it is also impossible to miss the Anglo-American appearance of most of the terrorists.

Indeed, it is blatantly obvious much of WEII is intended as an allegory celebrating China’s hardcore “Covid-Zero” approach to crisis management and excoriating the Western preoccupation with individuality. Of course, it never shows Chinese scientists destroying evidence of the looming solar crisis, as was the case with the initial Covid outbreak in Wuhan.

Be that as it actually was, there are pieces of two really good movies in WEII. The aforementioned space-elevator scene is a whizzbang set piece. The film also evolves into an intriguing speculative sf drama exploring the nature of artificial intelligence and sentient consciousness. Andy Lau plays Tu Hengyu, a computer scientist still mourning the death of his young daughter, whose consciousness he has digitally copied, in contradiction of current laws.

Hengyu’s efforts are risky, because he is trying to accomplish what the “Digital Life” movement, the major opponents of “Moving Mountain” project advocate. To do so, he needs the processing power of the HAL9000-like 550W super-computer running the project. This story arc takes several provocative twists and turns. Lau is also terrific as Tu, bringing a desperately needed human dimension (somewhat ironically) to a film that often desperately needs it. (However, it is sad to see the Chinese flag on Mr. Hong Kong’s shoulder, rather than HK’s five petals.)

The problem is these two parts are held together by long stretches of exposition and CCP-China propaganda, often relayed through UN-style speeches and news reports. This style of filmmaking is both boring and insultingly didactic. Frankly, the character of Zhou Jiechi, the wise Chinese ambassador to the UEG (the UN successor organization) is an insult to all the victims of Covid and the ongoing genocide in Xinjiang.

The Winchesters (Pilot), on CW

The thing about prequels is that we know where it’s going better than the characters do. Fans of Supernatural have seen the sacrifices John Winchester will make for his sons, but he did plenty of hunting before that. Much like his sons, Winchester has father issues of his own, not that he had much opportunity to spend time with his absent father. That is not all bad, because it gives him a commonality to bond over with his future wife, Mary Campbell, whose dad is also missing. The family that hunts together first gets together in the pilot episode of The Winchesters, which premieres Tuesday on the CW.

On his first day home from Vietnam, Winchester meet-cutes Campbell in a DNR-kind of way. Of course, cute does not last long in horror. The next time he encounters Campbell, she is saving him from a demon. As it happens, they were both following up leads regarding their fathers. Apparently, Winchester’s old man was part of “The Men of Letters,” a secret society dedicated to fighting supernatural threats. Presumably, Winchester Sr. largely cut ties with his wife and son to protect them from his business. In contrast, Campbell’s father trained her to be a “hunter” ever since she was a child.

Together with Campbell’s Scooby-Doo-Mystery-Incorporated fellow hunters Latika Desai (the shy one) and Carlos Cervantez (the cocky one), the future Winchesters follow demonic clues to New Orleans (they even have a similar van). Obviously, Winchester is keenly interested in Campbell, whereas she wants to spare him the chaos her father forced upon her. Yet, the mutual attraction is already evident.

Frankly, Drake Rodger and Meg Donnelly have better chemistry in the pilot (as Winchester and Campbell) than co-leads Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki exhibited in the only Supernatural episode we’ve seen, “Crossroads Blues” (S2E8)—but its depiction of Robert Johnson was pretty hip. So far, showrunner Robbie Thompson nicely balances their courtship with the monster-hunting.

Walker: Independence (Pilot), on CW

Like many people today, Abby and Liam Walker have left the corruption of Massachusetts in search of opportunity in Texas. Unfortunately, the corruption has followed them. Liam was supposed to be the town’s new sheriff, but he was murdered on the trail. She was also left for dead, but leaving-for-dead works just about as well in westerns as it does in horror. Naturally, she wants revenge and the suspicious new replacement sheriff goes to the top of her list in the pilot episode of Anna Fricke’s Walker: Independence, which premieres tomorrow on the CW.

After she and her husband were gunned down in the dead of night, Walker wakes up in an Apache camp. For understandable reasons, the noble (and rugged jawed) Calian is reluctant to walk her all the way into town, but he will be her first ally. Shortly thereafter, she will have an awkward first meeting with irresponsible outlaw Hoyt Rawlins, but they will also forge a weird alliance of convenience.

According to Calian, the town’s deputy is a decent fellow, but newly installed Sheriff Davidson gives off seriously villainous vibes. It turns out he is also from Boston, but he was part of the corrupt machine there. Cautious about announcing herself, Walker finds temporary employment with Kate Carver, a showgirl of some repute and Kai, an immigrant Chinese laborer. At the end of the episode, we also learn one of them has a secret sideline that should wear well throughout the first season.

Independence is a Yellowstone-like prequel spinoff to the CW’s rebooted Walker. None of the characters from the contemporary series could credibly guest-star, since there is roughly one hundred and forty years separating their timelines, so fans of the original Chuck Norris series could pretend it is a prequel to it instead.

Indeed, they might want to, because Independence shows all kinds of potential. Comparing pilot to pilot, Independence might represent the rare spinoff that far surpasses the quality its parent series. Whereas Walker presented itself as the corporate diversity seminar version of the Texas Rangers, Independence is nicely setting itself up as an old school western. It is very clear Abby Walker intends to get justice or revenge, which ever comes first.

Orphan: First Kill

This entire film is a spoiler alert for its possible franchise, because if you haven’t already seen Jaume Collet-Serra’s Orphan (released in 2009), it reveals the original film’s big shocking twist in the first ten minutes. There is a very good reason nasty little Leena has been confined to an Estonian asylum for the criminally insane. Viewers know her better as Esther, the name she adopts after her violent escape in William Brent Bell’s Orphan: First Kill, which releases today in theaters and on-demand.

Dr. Novotny kept warning his staff to always be on their guard when around the little monster, but they just didn’t listen. A few bloody murders later, Leena finds a photo online of Esther Albright, a missing American girl she can pass herself off as, due to the passage of time and a bogus Russian kidnapping yarn. Of course, Albright’s sensitive artist father Allen is so overcome with joy, he unquestioningly accepts everything she says. However, Tricia Albright knows there is something wrong with her story and their child psychologist also notices some inconsistencies.

Make no mistake, Mother Albright is one tough customer. People are always so dumb in horror movies, but not her, no siree. Esther is a master manipulator, but she will have a harder time pulling-off her Bad Seed-esque head-games with Ms. Albright than she did with Vera Farmiga in the first film. In fact, their cat-and-mouse business is what makes First Kill so much fun.

It is pretty amazing Isabelle Fuhrman can still play Esther, over ten years after the first film released. Admittedly, she had some SFX help, but there is also something about the character’s sinister nature that encourages the suspension of disbelief in this respect. Yet, Julia Stiles’s performance as Albright is what really makes the film work so well. She is sharp and witheringly funny. As a result, she and Esther are pretty evenly matched, which actually builds the kind of tension and suspense that is hard to get from prequels (because let’s face it, logic already tells us exactly what will happen).

Leatherface: The Latest Texas Chainsaw Origin Story

Old horror franchises never die—they just get the Hell rebooted out of them. It is time to go back to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre well yet again. This time, we get the origin story of the nastiest and most sadistic of the clan. If you are wondering how this squares with Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, released way back in 2006, I’m afraid you are on your own when it comes to questions of canonical continuity. The title character is still a fresh-faced kid, but he will change during the course of Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury’s Leatherface (trailer here), which opens today nationwide.

The knuckle-dragging Sawyer family regularly gets away with murder, but killing the daughter of Texas Ranger Hal Hartman is pushing the envelope, even for them. Believing in a Roy Moore Biblical kind of justice, Hartman whisks away Jed Sawyer, the youngest of the brood, using a dubious order of protection. Actually, a legitimate case could be made Jed needs protecting, if he were not dumped into a nightmarish bedlam style looney bin.

About a decade or so later, young Jed is now known by his alias, whatever that might be. Murderous matriarch Verna Sawyer is still desperate to regain custody, but Hartman and the hospital director continue to stymie her. However, Jed will soon be leaving as one of a small group of escaping inmates who take the decent, well-intentioned Nurse Lizzy hostage. Seth M. Sherwood’s screenplay wants to keep us guessing as to which one will become Leatherface, but it is pretty easy to guess on the basis of relative screen time.

With the late Tobe Hooper only credited as an executive producer, Leatherface the movie has just one thing going for it—Stephen Dorff going all in as Hartman. When he is yelling and glaring and chewing the scenery, the movie actually starts to generate a little bit of fun. Still, it is frustrating to see his character make the same dumb horror movie mistakes. Seriously, he is a Texas Ranger. When stalking murderous backcountry folk, he should shoot first and keep shooting. Talking can wait.

Independent Spirit Award winner Lilli Taylor looks weirdly out of place as Verna Sawyer, but she does her best to snarl and hiss, Vanessa Grasse is way too shy and retiring to make us believe she could be a “final girl,” but we can’t help feeling for her. Everyone else is basically a caricature, a cliché, or an idiot with dubious motivation.

Although there are far fewer chainsaws in Leatherface than most Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise installments, this is still a very brutal movie. Yet, it fails at what is supposedly its primary mission. None of the bloody mayhem we see convincingly explains how Jed the ward of the state becomes the savage Leatherface. Frankly, the transition is abrupt and baffling. Not recommended, Leatherface opens today (10/20) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

Ouija: Origin of Evil—Back to the Board

Ouija boards must be the most controversial and feared item found in typical toy stores. It makes you wonder why Hasbro still makes them. Maybe it is the hundreds of thousands of units they sell each year with virtual no marketing expenditure, but we’re just guessing here. They even licensed the brand for a horror film as part of their studio development deal. Did the story end with 2014’s Ouija? Who knows, but we can hope. Instead, it is time to flashback to when it all began in Mike Flanagan’s considerably superior prequel, Ouija: Origin of Evil (trailer here), a Blumhouse production, which opens today nationwide.

It is 1965, eight years before The Exorcist scared the pants off everyone and made Ouija boards synonymous sulfur-spewing Hell. When Alice Zander decides to incorporate a board into her phony spiritualist act, it doesn’t set off any alarm bells. She is a bit of a scam artist, but she really tries to give her clients the sort of consolation and closure she herself lacks. It has been a year or so since her husband Roger died in an accident, but her teenage daughter Lina and ten-ish-year-old daughter Doris are not even close to being over it. The Ouija board will not help.

It turns out there is an evil entity in the house, which uses the board as a catalyst to possess little Doris. It will take Mother Zander a while to accept the obvious, preferring to think the Ouija board really has brought her into contact with her late husband. However, Lina recognizes the weirdness of Doris’s Regan MacNeil behavior, which will be confirmed by her kindly Catholic school teacher, Father Tom.

Ironically, Origin is far better than the original film, but it is unfairly restricted by the previously established backstory. Flanagan is a considered an up-and-coming genre director who definitely shows some chops here. Most tellingly, the film carries a (mild by genre standards) PG-13 rating, yet Flanagan still earns some legit scares. In fact, the 1960s period look and vibe actually makes it feel more real and grounded. Like Blatty’s The Exorcist, Origin also wears its Catholic perspective on its sleeve. Terms like evil and innocence have very real meaning it this film.

To that end, Henry Thomas (yes, the kid from E.T.) is terrific as Father Tom. The scenes of his initial investigation represent some first class horror movie-making. Yet, the third act inevitably collapses into a blur of bodies flying through the air, just as we expected it would. Not to overstate matters, but there is a tragic poignancy to Elizabeth Reaser’s portrayal of Alice Zander. Lulu Wilson is also Bad Seed creepy as the possessed, mucus-gurgling, eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-her-head Doris. Frankly, Annalise Basso mostly comes off as an obnoxious teen, but that is pretty much what Lina Zander is. Hardcore fans will also get a kick out of knowing Doug Jones is the one beneath the black ghoul’s make-up and special effects.

Production designer Patricio M. Farrell painstakingly recreates the miserable not-so-swinging, polyester sixties and cinematographer Michael Fimognari gives it all an eerie Conjuring­-esque glow. Given the origins of Origin, it certainly exceeds expectations. Despite the baggage straining the third act, it is an expertly-executed exercise in Catholic-influenced demonic horror. Worth a look for horror fans who can appreciate a good set-up and forgive the lame ending, Ouija: Origin of Evil opens in wide release today (10/21), including the AMC Empire in New York.

Cabin Fever: Patient Rudy

It is a horror franchise that already has quite a checkered history. Eli Roth made his name with the original Cabin Fever, but Ti West (then an up-and-coming young horror auteur) unsuccessfully lobbied to have his name taken off Cabin Fever 2: Spring Fever. A comic-book artist like Kaare Andrews might sound like a promising candidate to breathe new life into the prequel, but it is still pretty much the same skin-sloughing viral business as usual in his Cabin Fever: Patient Zero (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Not to be hopelessly pedantic, but there is no cabin in Zero. Instead, our young and dumb partiers are out for some fun in the Caribbean sun. For his last minute bachelor night, Marcus’s hopelessly irresponsible brother Josh, his business partner Dobbs, and Josh’s girlfriend Penny have whisked him off for a night of hedonism on an uncharted island. Of course, there are no phones or radios to interrupt the good times. After all, what could go wrong, even if the numbskulls somehow managed to pick the one deserted island with an apparently abandoned research facility on the opposite end of the coast?

For a while, Andrews lets the camera ogle Penny’s bikini body (she is played by Jillian Murray, the co-star of the straight-to-DVD sequel Wild Things: Foursome, if that means anything to you). Although Penny is hooking up with Josh, she has some steamy history with Marcus as well. As awkward as that is for all involved, their problems are about to get a whole magnitude worse. After swimming in the viral infected water, Penny and Josh start developing some nasty rashes. It progresses rapidly. Seeking help in the not-so abandoned laboratory, Josh and Dobbs encounter some rabid victims of the virus, the sociopathic Dr. Edwards, and Porter, the naturally immune Patient Zero.

Basically, Zero is all about its gross-out, face-dripping, bloody projectile-vomiting effects, but the lighting is often so low, it is hard to get a clear picture of the gore. The acting is not exactly any great shakes here, even from Sean Astin, a.k.a. Rudy, as the increasingly resentful Porter. Mitch Ryan is ridiculously bland as Marcus, but he is easier to take than the annoying mugging indulged by Brando Eaton’s Josh. At least, Murray delivers what is expected of her, falling to pieces (literally) rather well, all things considered.

Zero maintains the tradition of spectacularly grisly make-up concoctions established by the previous films, but it largely drops the irony and social commentary. The results feel very disposable. If you want to hoot and holler at some on-screen gruesomeness, it has its moments, but it will still outlast its welcome. Bound to disappoint franchise fans, Cabin Fever: Patient Zero opens today (8/1) in New York at the AMC Empire.