The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Freaks (1932), directed by Tod Browning

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Freak", by Lana Del Ray

     It is said that humans are inherently afraid of things that are unknown or foreign to them. Racism, Fascism, Xenophobia, Religious prejudice, many of the things that we consider the bane of humanity, the black marks in the history of our collective civilization, could be contributed at a basic level to fear. All because a bunch of hairy protohumans needed to a way to make sure they didn’t have their fruit stolen or eaten by cave-snakes and giant sloths.

     Horrible? Yes. Devaluing to the entire experience of being human? Yes. Yet it is those fears of ours that inspired some of our greatest works of art, and of course the very idea of horror. It was the fear of those great unexplored frontiers, outer space and the depths of the ocean, H.P. Lovecraft used in the creation of his Cthulu Mythos. It is our fear of of solitude that give that chilling edge to films like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Hills Have Eyes (even though that movie sucks). It is the ultimate fear, the fear of death, that was the basis for vampires and ghosts. We may be slaves to these primal urges, but at least we have the intelligence to recognize it, and attempt to move beyond them.

     Such is the case with Freaks, directed by Tod Browning, who had helped kick off the Universal monster series and horror cinema in general with Dracula the year before. The story, a classic tale of love, greed and bloody revenge, utilizes the most elemental ‘monsters’ of them all: those with physical deformities (no special effects here, it’s all natural), what they used to call sideshow acts back when traveling circuses were still a thing. However, in what was probably a huge twist in the 30s, where they still gawked at people with disabilities and hated everything that wasn’t a WASP, the so-called ‘freaks’ are not portrayed as the villains here. In fact, they are treated as a nice, close-knit family, able to laugh and love and everything a human is capable of. Instead it is the ‘superior’ people, the strong, the beautiful, who are the true villains and are eventually damned due to their greed and hatred. It’s a powerful statement on the inherently destructive nature of prejudice in an era where a significant portion of the population were barred from voting or eating at certain restaurants, and I have to wonder whether that was the intent or even if moviegoers/critics even recognized that subtext. I’m sure if the circus folks were slightly more tanned, the movie would have taken a different turn.

     By treating the ‘freaks’ as people defending themselves from assholes, it does mean that Freaks isn’t really all that scary. Aside from the climax, which can be truly chilling, I doubt even the most thin-skinned of watchers will find that much to fear here. However the same could be said of most movies of this era when viewed by a modern audience, and in my opinion it’s paced far better than Dracula (which can be a slog if you’re not used to it), which makes it a far easier film to watch. It’s got a bit of that cult film feel to it, and you know I’m a fan of those cult films. This is your history homework for the Marathon this year, so check it out.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Scanners (1981), directed by David Cronenberg

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Veteran of the Psychic Wars", by Blue Oyster Cult

     When you’re handing out accolades for the for the greatest names in Horror movie history, a few names are going to come up. George A. Romero, Ray Harryhausen, Boris Karloff, John Carpenter - People that, whether through their acting, directing or production have helped to develop the foundations for horror cinema and kept it a thriving genre even into the modern age. Well, ‘thriving’ is a generous term, considering most horror films these days seem to be torture porn or a series of forced memes and incredibly formulaic either way, but it at least makes enough money to sustain itself and a niche demographic. Isn’t that what we all want though, at the end of the day?

     As this is an article about a Cronenberg movie, of course I believe David Cronenberg would be a part of this list. Although nowadays Mr. Cronenberg is known as a celebrated director of serious dramas like A History of Violence and Eastern Promises, there was a time when ol’ Dave up there with John Carpenter and David Lynch as one of the weirdest guys in Hollywood. His remake of horror classic The Fly, Videodrome (which I covered in last year’s Marathon), the adaptation of William S. Burroughs's classic novel Naked Lunch, films that chilled audiences by attacking the one thing that everyone has in common: their sense of self. Body horror, as it eventually become known, a subgenre of horror focusing on severe and grotesque physical mutations, variations on which can be seen in Hellraiser, The Thing and From Beyond. Cronenberg may not have have been the progenitor of that specific field, but he certainly helped establish it in the mainstream consciousness and did it well enough that he could build a career on it, and thus have the credibility and the backing to perhaps make the films he wanted to make.

     Like eXistenZ.

     So what is Scanners about, beyond that one head explosion scene that has become a reaction image standard these days? Well...psychics, I guess? Drugs? Some kind of corporate espionage that turns into some kind of battle for the fate of mankind? Fact is, it’s an incredibly obtuse film. Even more so than Videodrome, which goes completely off the fucking rails in the second half. At least there you have some time to get behind James Woods as a character before you get down to business. Here you start off right in the craziness, and you never really understand much of anything about the characters or care about their motivations. Especially protagonist Cameron Vale, who is maybe the least charismatic lead I’ve ever seen in a film. I mean you have some great actors here, Patrick McGoohan, Michael Ironside, but everything feels so erratic and, to be honest, melodramatic, that I’m still not sure what happened. It’s like trying to recall a dream the next morning, one of those weird dreams you get when you eat pizza before bed.

     However, like I mentioned in the Phantasm article, for these types of films to work all they need to have an interesting idea, not necessarily to be a technically ‘good’ film. Scanners is a pretty good idea for a sci-fi film, as much as the X-Men were for a comic book I guess, and my respect for Cronenberg as a filmmaker means I can enjoy the idea while forgiving some of the misgivings about the plot and characterization, unlike my time with Phantasm. It’s a lot like getting a taste of the brown acid; You really have to ride this one out, accept the sounds and images as they come and try to maintain. Thankfully that’s not too difficult, as Scanners is generally entertaining if nonsensical, another point of difference between this and Phantasm. I’m really harping on that movie for whatever reason, not sure why.

     If you’re in the mood for a bit of the ol’ ultraviolence with a tangy sci-fi twist this Halloween, then Scanners might just be the film for you. Just try not to think about it too hard.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979), directed by Robert Wise

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Star Trek Theme", by Leonard Nimoy

R.I.P. Leonard Nimoy

     I don’t know how it happened, but at some point I became a fan of Star Trek. Not that I’d call myself a trekkie or trekker or whatever label obsessive Star Trek fans like to label themselves, the idea of watching Voyager or Enterprise still doesn’t appeal to me, but I still find myself interested in the series more so than the average person. If I had to make a definitive statement, I’d say it likely has something to do with watching through The Next Generation, which I fondly remember catching occasionally back when G4/TechTV was still a thing, which lead me to watching some of the original series, and which will likely lead me to watching Deep Space Nine in the future. I just can’t get enough of it, seems like. It may not be the best television in the world, in fact a lot of it can be embarrassingly dumb at times, but what makes Star Trek good (when it’s good) is the strength of its cast; their unique personalities and the way those personalities play off of each other. Plus the fact that there are like three other sci-fi shows worth watching means you don’t have much choice either way.

     Since all the TNG movies suck ass, I decided to go with the first of them all, Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Released at the start of the space movie craze (Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind had come out two years prior, Alien released earlier that year and Flash Gordon would come a year later) and 10 years after Star Trek had gone off the air, TMP takes place several years after the Enterprise’s famous year mission to boldly go where no man has gone before. It seems that there’s a enormous death cloud out in space with destructive capabilities far beyond that of mortal ken, and it just so happens to be making a beeline towards Earth. It’s up to Admiral James T. Kirk to get the band back together, glue the Enterprise back together and save the day yet again. Now with 100% more hot bald chicks!

     Star Trek: The Motion Picture retells a story that had already been played out several times over the course of 79 episodes: The Enterprise encounters an omnipotent being which puts her crew in danger, and lessons in the value of humanity and insight into ourselves is had by all. In that regard, like Pacific Rim, the appeal in my opinion isn’t so much the story (which is worthwhile, considering they got Isaac Asimov to consult on it) as it is the visuals. This film takes its time to lavish over every bit of scenery it can, whether it’s going over every single inch of the Enterprise or the breathtaking view of the death cloud’s interior, and it works out works out just as well if not better than A New Hope. This was the film that legitimized a cultural phenomenon and established a franchise that’s still going 30+ years, and it shows.

     The major flaw? No action. Perhaps Gene Roddenberry was a big fan of 2001: A Space Odyssey at the time, because there are a lot of long cinematic shots and guys floating in space but not that much energetic conflict. The death cloud, or Vger if you’d prefer, is not so much an antagonist as a force of nature, and much of the film’s time is spent on the task of attempting communication with it or crew tension. There’s nothing wrong with that approach, the mission statement is all about exploring after all, but the original series was a show that thrived on action, and so the lack of it is much more noticeable than it might be if Star Trek wasn’t in the title. Pop culture would seem to agree with me, as The Wrath of Khan is a much more action-oriented film, and is generally considered the better film. Though that might just be because of Ricardo Montalban’s luscious pecs.

     Halloween, like most of our society, has become increasingly nerdy over the years, but much more cynical. Things that we should love we get angry about, and in turn we tear down others. This year, why not put down the pitchforks and the torches and join together in the spirit of peace and cooperation, much like the Federation in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Just for a moment, among the ghosts n’ goblins, we can believe that one day mankind can rise above the hatred and bigotry that has marked our past and achieve things far greater than we ever expected, that one day utopias could be the norm, rather than the ideal. One day.

     And then you can go back to eating candy.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Horror of Dracula (1958), directed by Terence Fisher

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "My Way", by Christopher Lee

R.I.P. Christopher Lee

     In the last Marathon of the Soul, I discussed the influence of vampires in pop culture, most specifically Dracula. Werner Herzog’s adaptation of the Bram Stoker novel had been number 1 after all, and even though the numbered rankings don’t mean much in this context, there really wasn’t any doubt where it should lie. Aside from Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein”, there is no other story that has had as much influence on pop culture and the horror genre as Dracula. For better or worse, depending on your opinions of Anne Rice and Twilight, the notion of vampires in fiction would not be as prevalent nor would their ‘rules’ be as ingrained into the public consciousness if it hadn’t been for Bram Stoker’s novel. Sure, there had been vampires as the subject of stories around that time, Polidori’s “The Vampyre”, Sheridan Le Fanu’s “Carmilla”, but none have had the staying power as the former Vlad Tepes.

     Of course a lot of the reason why Dracula has been so durable over the years is because of its adaptation to film, and as is is the horror genre, it has been firmly run into the ground. Most of how we view Dracula (as well as werewolves, mummies and Frankenstein’s Monster) comes from the Universal horror films of the 30’s and 40s, which of course were so influential because they were the first of their kind, but few outside the horror fandom ever recognize the impact of Hammer Films on the classic monster films. Beginning in 1955 with their adaptation of The Quatermass Xperiment, Hammer produced a series of films in the thriller, horror and science-fiction genres, filling them with all the sex, violence and special effects that 50s B-movies could muster. The Mummy, The Curse of Frankenstein, Doctor Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde, maybe not all of them were film classics, but Hammer was able to forge a look and feel to their films that firmly established who they were and what that they were about.

     But again, none of them were quite as important as Dracula.

     In retrospect, there’s really spectacular storywise about Horror of Dracula, the first of Hammer’s multi-film series about the titular vampire. After all, it’s just retelling an abridged version of the Stoker novel, without much of the creative differences that marked Herzog’s Nosferatu or Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula. However, where this movie shines is the inclusion of Peter Cushing as Dr. Van Helsing and the legendary Christopher Lee as Count Dracula. It is Cushing’s portrayal of the doctor, who was otherwise a relatively minor character in the novel, which I firmly believe established the idea of Van Helsing as a vampire hunter and Dracula’s archnemesis. Lee’s performance of Count Dracula is equally interesting, as much ‘in character’ as Bela Lugosi’s in 1931. Unlike Lugosi’s charming European aristocrat, Lee’s Dracula is a demon in man’s clothing, a demonic figure whose overwhelming force of will is apparent even though Christopher Lee says less than five lines of dialogue throughout the entire film (I believe the story is that he hated all of Dracula’s dialogue so he opted not to say it, because who are you to question Christopher Lee?). Both embody the dark, seductive nature that characterize what Dracula represents, but there’s something dangerous, even bestial about Lee’s Dracula that feels so effective even 40+ years later. He really feels like the stuff of nightmares, more so than Lugosi or Gary Oldman or really anybody else I’ve seen that has played the character. That he manages this completely nonverbally is a testament to how truly great an actor he was.

     There will probably always be some iteration of Dracula or some other vampire story being made at any given point in time, but horror is a genre which respects the classics, and as horror fans we should as well. If you’ve already seen the Universal Dracula, how about taking a trip across the pond and trying out Horror of Dracula? It’s got boobs, blood and elderly British men galore. What more could you want on Halloween?

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Pacific Rim (2013), directed by Guillermo del Toro

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Giant Robot Birdhead", by The Aquabats!

     Robots. Ever since mankind first conceived of the world-changing potential that machinery could bring to our lives, and the first time that said conception took the form of mechanical or artificial beings, robots have been firmly rooted in our collective pop culture consciousness. Whether we’re talking about Isaac Asimov’s infamous 3 Laws of Robotics, Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation, C-3PO and R2D2 from Star Wars or even killer machines like Ultron or the Terminator, we love robots. They’re a reflection of ourselves after all, a fledgling race that we created, just as some people believe we were created. We are their God, and whether we treat them like slaves or otherwise, tells us much about how we treat ourselves and the world around. Is it any surprise there are so many stories about killer robots?

     Nowhere else in the world is man’s love of robots more evident than in Japan, where the sci-fi subgenre of mecha (giant robots that are piloted or otherwise controlled by humans) has become synonymous with pop culture in the country. Neon Genesis Evangelion, Gundam, Macross, Voltron, every sentai team (the basis for Power Rangers in the U.S.), Zoids, hell even Spider-Man had a giant robot when he was imported to Japan. They have that shit down on lock, as much as the U.S. does superheroes and Scandinavia barren landscapes. You can’t beat them, they’re the best there is.

     So it was in 2013 when Guillermo del Toro, director of Pan’s Labyrinth, Hellboy and others, decided to craft his love letter to giant creatures of all kinds with his film Pacific Rim. In the not too distant future, an interdimensional breach causes the arrival of giant monsters, or kaiju, which begin to destroy civilization as we know. As military forces reveal themselves woefully inadequate for defense, the governments of the world come together to create a new, more powerful weapon: Jaegers, gigantic robotic death machines that are controlled by teams of pilots sharing a mental link. For a while, the Jaegers are a terrific success, and humanity breathes a sigh of relief that they get to live again. But as the kaiju get stronger, the supply of Jaegers and able pilots gets smaller and smaller. With only four Jaegers left in the world and the strongest monsters yet to come, it’s about time for Earth to take the fight to the kaiju.

     Pacific Rim doesn’t really do anything that we haven’t seen before. All the characters are archetypes (the stern general with a heart of gold, the dick, the female love interest), the story goes through the same beats we’ve all seen hundreds of times, and you could probably guess the ending about 30 minutes. In that regard, the movie is painfully average, and in this film’s two hours I had trouble even remembering the protagonist’s name much less really care about an arc I’ve seen played out before. Even the inclusion of Idris Elba and Charlie Day doesn’t bring that much to the table, just a competently performed version of that type of character.

     What Pacific Rim gets right, and what the latest Godzilla failed to grasp is the action. Del Toro is a very visual director, especially when he has the budget for it, and since he didn’t have to worry about crafting much of a story, it left him plenty of time to focus on the special effects. To this film’s benefit, because this movie looks awesome. The pilot suits, the Jaeger designs, the bizarre Kaijus (not nearly as diverse as Toho’s monster gallery, but serviceable), the comic book style lighting, it all looks and sounds exactly as it should. When they get to the fighting (yes, a giant monster movie with giant monster fights, instead of Bryan Cranston’s wooden plank of a son), the movements of the Jaegers and the Kaiju have just enough weight to make them really seem like beings of immense size without sacrificing speed or the ability to throw bastards 10 football fields away. It’s fun and exciting, and luckily enough del Toro knows enough to give us plenty of it.

     Maybe there’s nothing very horrific about it, but Pacific Rim is a popcorn movie done right, and there are plenty who have gotten it wrong. If you’re taking a break from the scares this Halloween, try this one on for size.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: The Exorcist (1973), directed by William Friedkin

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Tubular Bells", by Mike Oldfield

     I’ve already spoken about how horror and science fiction could be considered ‘easy’ genres of film to do, because the standards for what constitute a good film in that case usually end up being how many buckets of blood can be thrown at a screaming woman. Not that there’s anything wrong with ‘easy’ films in a sense, it’s a good way for up-and-coming directors (Peter Jackson, David Cronenberg) to cut their teeth in the industry, but that convenience seems to come at the cost of quality control. Generally it seems that the cream of the crop is afforded the respect they deserve, your Alien/Aliens, your Blade Runners, etc. but other films that might be considered classics of horror are seemingly far from classics in the eyes of the cinema intelligentsia. Would the psychologically disturbing themes and iconography of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Halloween be more accepted in film circles if the deluge of bargain-bin crap that spawned from it didn’t exist? Maybe, maybe not.

     One of the most successful exceptions to this rule is 1973’s The Exorcist, directed by William Friedkin (Sorcerer, The French Connection), Much like Richard Donner’s infamous The Omen, Friedkin took an obscure, goofy bit of Catholicism, in this case the incredibly shady practice of exorcism, and expand it into a movie. At the time it was incredibly unique, and definitely not a film that could have been shown before the 1970s, when directorial freedom and special effects started to become prevalent. . Showing a child in this grotesque position, bloody, pockmarked face, spouting obscenities, and making the protagonist a priest who in the beginning of the movie has lost,The Exorcist touches not only upon us the cynical realist attitude born of Vietnam/race riot/political assassination era America but also of an overall maturation of cinema and the mainstream audiences. We could explore themes and show stories that we were unable to in the past, whether by technology or social morays, and not only that but really lay the groundwork for what was to be arguably more than any other time in film history. Much as Jaws and Star Wars established the foundations of the blockbuster, The Exorcist showed what this new decade meant for the horror genre, and the new avenues for where that genre could push itself in the future, whether it was through special effects or cinematography or what have you. It’s a good movie as well as an influential one, and that’s often not the case.

     Much like The Omen, Exorcist is a slow burn. The movie is about 2 hours long, and Friedkin really uses that time to build us up to that moment. A little less ambiguous than The Omen, where the events could be chalked up to Damien’s satanic influence or freak accidents, which Richard Donner (and I) consider one of the strengths of that film. When the girl starts looking like a Garbage Pail Kid and punching out grown men it does strain suspension of disbelief a bit, especially when they seem to go through every single medical exam they can think of, because a brain lesion can totally give a 12 year old girl a man’s voice. However the characters are very strong, very ‘real’ in my opinion, and I think that the feeling of tension and helplessness that arises from seeing a loved one lose control of themselves, whether through demonic possession or not, is a universal one and comes through very well. Great drama, horror classic, if you haven’t seen it already, make it a priority this Halloween.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Drop Dead Fred (1991), directed by Ate de Jong

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Living Doll", by Cliff Richard & The Young Ones

     Here’s yet another film that was originally on the docket for last year’s Marathon of the Soul, Drop Dead Fred. At the time, I was at the height of what you might call my British Comedy phase: Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, Blackadder, Red Dwarf, QI, A Bit of Fry & Laurie, Jeeves & Wooster, old school Who’s Line Is It Anyway? and of course The Comic Strip Presents…,The Young Ones and Bottom. I consumed them all, wholly and voraciously, and in so doing I decided to reflect that in my choice of films. Terry Gilliam’s Time Bandits made an appearance, but at the last minute I decided to go with Guest House Paradiso instead, starring Bottom stars Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson (pretty fun comedy, by the way). Since this list seems to be headed towards a retrospective direction, I’ve decided to bite the bullet and toss it in. See what happens, you know?

     The story to Drop Dead Fred is something we’ve probably all seen before: A schmuck who is currently at the bottom of shit valley has their life turned upside by a wacky character who by the end of the film manages to give the schmuck the confidence to succeed and so everyone lives happily ever after (except for those dickhole antagonists). The schmuck in this case is Elizabeth (Phoebe Cates), a girl so cowed by her domineering mother and her scumbag ex-husband that she seems one stapler away from being Stephen Root’s character in Office Space, and the wacky character is her manic imaginary friend Drop Dead Fred (Rik Mayall playing virtually the same character he played in almost every role he’s had, except with bizarre costumes and cartoon physics). Encino Man, My Favorite Martian, Mallrats, it’s a tried and true formula for comedy films, as much as ‘silly foreigners’ and ‘two people of opposing beliefs and personalities must work together to accomplish a shared goal’.

     This is a weird one, though. From the surface you expect it to be some kind of goofy, Halloweentown style Disney original movie, but then it turns out to be closer to an early Tim Burton joint. But it isn’t quite like Burton either, because that high level of whimsy isn’t there.to compliment that faux-goth darkness. If I had to put a term to it, it’d be ‘try-hard’. Phoebe doesn’t seem like a Potter-esque figure to pity as she does a co-dependent masochist, quietly mumbling about her stapler as the Bill Lumbergs of the movie move her ass to the basement. Fred is the same frenzied petulant twat that Rik Mayall perfected over the years, which works out for a bratty child like character, but he doesn’t seem like an actual friend either. The moments where we touch upon Fred and Lizzie’s friendship seem few and far between, and 90% of the time Fred comes off as some violently schizophrenic asshole, compelled to insult and assault the person he exists to befriend. Every other major character seems like some sort of exaggerated caricature, generally dickish, and I’m pretty sure that Mickey has a collection of human heads in his basement. I’m not the most social man in the world, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t how humans are meant to act, even if they exist in a black comedy universe.

     However I really do enjoy Rik Mayall as an actor, which is probably what saves this movie honestly, as he provides the lion’s share of the comedy and sentiment. I also quite like design aesthetic, the costumes, the effects etc., a slightly unhinged vision of how a child might view the world. Plus seeing Carrie Fisher is always pretty cool. So if Halloween comes around and you’re looking for something with your significant other (maybe not with the kids ironically, as there is a bit of language you might not appreciate), I think Drop Dead Fred might be a good, relatively inoffensive choice. It won’t even matter that she’s imaginary this time.