 When I went over 'Psycho' in my "Screening Suggestions", I highly recommended it as the quintessential Hitchcock movie. However, with that, there comes a real flip of the coin. One may very well argue their preference for 'The Birds', and it would be very well warranted. Where 'Psycho' helped launch the slasher genre, this helped make nature scary in such a way that it hasn't even really been attempted since because the idea seems so absurd - birds! (except maybe 'Birdemic: Shock & Terror', but let's try not to count that as a movie).
For yours truly, I sort of split the film into two parts. The first half of it is a lot of talking, getting to know characters, etc. and subtle things start happening around them. The second half plays the horror card a lot more, and the suspense of it all still holds up fairly well today - although some of the green screen effects may not. Still, this is a masterfully scary movie for its time, using something so everyday that it makes one wonder about the effect it had on audiences at the time. Imagine leaving this and looking around at birds all perched and eerie-looking. Time has passed, and it might not have the same effect nowadays, but try Googling "birds attacking humans" and you'll find out things are a bit more common than we think. The film opens at a San Francisco pet store where Malanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren) comes across Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor), who is looking to buy a couple of lovebirds for his sister, Cathy's (Veronica Cartwright) 11th birthday. After a brief misunderstanding, Mitch leaves empty handed, but Malanie decides to make amends by purchasing, and delivering the lovebirds as a gift. When she finally tracks him down in Bodega Bay, she takes a boat across the bay to deliver the birds, she is attacked by a gull. Thinking it strange at first, they sort of brush it off, but further attacks start happening and becoming more abundant. Soon enough (and after some long character developing stories from everyone), Melanie and Mitch find themselves trapped in a house, surrounded by flocks of crows, gulls and more. With them end up being Mitch's ex; a teacher named Annie Hayworth (Suzanne Pleshette), Mitch's mother, Lydia (Jessica Tandy) and the young and terrified Cathy, who really sells it with her acting. It makes me wonder what cruel technique Hitchcock may have used on her to make her cry as distressfully as she did - like a traumatized kid who just witnessed her cat get hit by a transport truck. As far as explanation for the birds behavior, we never do get it, but that's also what makes it so good. We don't always need to be spoon-fed such things, and sometimes no explanation lends itself to the experience - as though you're one of the trapped people in a scary situation with no clue as to why it's happening or what to do. This further lends itself to the film's truly bizarre ending, which is quite a "WTF" moment, but it leaves you to interpret what Hitchock meant by it all. Those who know me well know that on this particular coin-flip of film, I very much prefer 'Psycho'. There was something truly disturbing there that has held up to this day very well. With 'The Birds', though a lot of it does still hold up, a lot of it can look pretty dated and corny. There also seems to be a lot about it that's trying to be almost too symbolic, if you feel like doing some deep digging on the subject. I don't mind symbolism, but I mean, to directly quote an article "The Birds is a political allegory about the psychological violence of capitalism and the fear-mongering of the Cold War." 'Psycho' is just about a killer who lost his damn mind, and is the grandfather of slasher horror. Between liking one or the other more, it's all gonna depend on what you're after. I may prefer 'Psycho', but I can't deny that a lot of the emotions that run here along with certain visual sequences are still pretty scary. For example, at one point we see a character with his eyes pecked out, covered in blood. That scene works as something scary now, let alone 1963. One could easily make this not such a "thinker" and have fun with it as a suspenseful thriller all the same. That's what I did, and the entertainment value is certainly still there. I don't find it to be perfect, but it gets a tremendous amount of respect from me for what it has accomplished. If nothing else, I have memories of this being something scary enough to lose sleep over as a kid, so much like with Freddy, these birds have a certain horrific nostalgia tied to them as one of the first things that legitimately scared me. 4/5
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 I wanted to take a look at something a little more under the radar than other much more famous titles I have on this list. 'Carnival of Souls' is one of those low budget titles that has gained a massive cult following over the years, and is often regarded nowadays as one of the all-time great horror movies. I must say, I can get where some of that is coming from, but for the most part, I'm not sure I understand what makes it so good.
As the film opens somewhere in Kansas, we loosely meet Mary Henry (Candace Hilligoss), as one of three women attempting a drag race against a few guys. During this race, they get to a bridge, and the women's car plummets into the river below. The police search for them, but the only one they manage to find is Mary, who has miraculously survived and pulled herself to land. She is later hired as a church organist in Salt Lake City, and while headed there, she starts to see visions of a strange, pasty-faced man (Herk Harvey). She also spots an abandoned pavilion along the shoreline which she finds out was carnival before it closed. When she attempts to explore it, though, the minister of the church that employed her stops her, telling her it would be illegal. In the meantime, she meets the only other lodger where she's staying, John Linden (Sidney Berger) and develops a bit of friendship with him, although the guy is quite the horn dog, and a few more real-life horrors are sprinkled in there with him as well. She also keeps seeing this creepy mysterious man, and if that's not enough, soon experiences moment in which she might as well not exist - people cannot see nor hear her. There's also some sort of magnetism for her towards the abandoned pavilion, and the big question is what does it all mean? Although the film is widely regarded nowadays as a cult classic horror, I must confess that I can't really climb on board that train. To the film's credit, a lot of the imagery is pretty disturbing for the time, especially considering 'Night of the Living Dead' wasn't a thing yet, and this portrays some ghoulish, zombie types. On top of that, I have to admit that there was something I liked about how it all ended. It may have been a risk move for something today, but back then, it counts as something pretty original. However, unfortunately for yours truly, not much about the ending made up for how much I felt the film dragged - even for a film not even an hour and a half long. But I wanna consider that more of a nitpick on my part, as clearly there's something people dig about this movie. The film's only real overall problem for me were the characters. In order for me to appreciate a lot of films, I need to be able to relate somewhat to the lead, or at least one other major character. Truth be told there was no one here that really stood out, and the character of Mary is one of the least likable horror heroines I can think of. Everything she does is in a confused daze, and she's almost zombie like. To be fair, that may have been the point, but that doesn't necessarily mean I have to enjoy it. In my humble opinion, the characters in the film only really helped things to drag. The only character I even remotely liked was "The Man", who was genuinely creepy, acting with only looks. But he's only just there to pose, leaving me with not much to route for either way. On that note, please don't let me ruin it for you just because I wasn't a fan. Opinions are bound to differ, and this movie made many "Top Horror Film" lists for a reason that perhaps I'm not entirely in tune with. It certainly has its place among classic horror titles. I liked moments of this movie, but as a whole, it's not something I'd see going on my Top 10 or even Top 20 all-time horror lists anytime soon. This is another one of those titles that has my respect for what it was for its time, as well as its cult following. But personally, I'm not really a fan of it, and would sooner watch something else. 3/5  Ah ghost movies. I always teeter with tales of the supernatural. I have seen some that I can so easily toss aside because they just go through the motions, but others just plain do their jobs. I think, for me, I can find a ghost movie very cheap. It'll be full of predictable jump scares, stupidity when it comes to dealing with the spirits involved, or a creepy girl with black hair (Netflix's 'Hill House' was the last time this really worked for me, and if you've seen it, you know why it works). But I think after seeing this I've come to realize that what I look for in a good ghost movie may be laying further in the past than I realize.
Taking place in 1937, Rick Fitzgerald (Ray Milland) and his sister, Pamela (Ruth Hussey), open the film while a poetic narration takes place. The pair happen upon an abandoned seaside house when their dog chases a squirrel into it. As they explore the house, they fall more and more in love with it, and decide to make the move to try to purchase the property from its owner, Commander Beech (Donald Crisp). They manage to get it for a surprisingly low price, based on stories about its previous owners and potential "hauntings" to which they are both too skeptical to care. Meanwhile, a young lady named Stella Meredith (Gail Russell), granddaughter of Commander Beech, is rather upset at the sale. Windward House (as the house is named) was where she spent her last moments with her now deceased mother who fell to her death from the cliff the house resides on. Rick soon becomes infatuated with Stella, which gains her access to the old place. However when strange noises such as sobbing in the middle of the night occur, accompanied by lovely scents, it becomes obvious that the house is haunted, and further details lead to a connection between the ghosts of the house and Stella. As the mystery continues to unfold, events get creepier and creepier, suggesting that perhaps Stella's mother may not be the obvious ghost. As far as early horror goes, I found that there was something that stood out about this movie among so many others I've seen. It carries an atmosphere with it that's actually almost perfect. Music will chime in the odd time, but all in all, there's an eerily still silence to things here. That blends with the lighting they use, casting long shadows, and often having things by candlelight. For 1944, this was some pretty incredible stuff, and even today there's this genuine creepiness to it. This was nominated for a Best Cinematography Oscar, and let's just say it was well-deserved. They even get a ghostly apparition in there that looks quite good for the time. The film has the distinction of being among the first films to feature ghostly hauntings in a dramatic sense, and its main theme of 'Stella by Starlight' has been adapted many times for its hauntingly beautiful sound. It has been adapted by several artists both instrumentally with people like Miles Davis, and lyrically by people like Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and Ray Charles just to name a few. It really is a beautiful and classy tune. You almost feel like you need to open up a bottle of wine while having dinner by candlelight as you listen to it (I think Ella Fitzgerald's is my favorite). In all honestly, despite perhaps some dated and corny acting here and there, this is one of the better haunting movies I think I've seen. For me, a haunting movie should be scary, but not just scary. There needs to be some sort of dramatic effect going on that makes the ghost more intriguing, and most of the time, I think we get that. But there have been duds all the same. This one does just what it needs to do for the effect it wants to deliver. It's eerily creepy but not exactly scary, and it seems to take the chances other ghost films up until this point haven't bothered to (although bear in mind, my knowledge of film back then is like looking at a library with 10 books in it). I still have some more first-time ghost movies to get through, but damn, this was really good! Hell, it even ends with a punchline. 4/5  If you've been following along with these reviews, you may be wondering what happened to 'The Invisible Man Returns'. Well, funnily enough, I simply couldn't find it - invisible, indeed. It's actually one of the more difficult films to track down, unless you live in America and may be able to rent it through Amazon. But it didn't take me long to find a replacement with an early horror comedy starring Bob Hope called 'The Ghost Breakers'.
As a 'Ghostbusters' fan, I had to jump on it. There's a whole long story behind the film's namesake and some legal rights, but the fact that this film existed sort of helped put 'Ghostbusters' on the map. If nothing else, it helped inspire the film to get made, as Aykroyd's idea was to modernize some of these old horror spoofs. But I digress. We're here to talk about 'The Ghost Breakers', featuring the one and only Bob Hope, and a bunch of old, dated humor that might make one cringe today. It's very much a product of its time when it comes to a few racial jokes, but there's also a balance. It's sort of like going back to some old school Mel Brooks - there's something dated and uncomfortable there, but so much of the rest of the film is worth it anyway. The film follows Mary Carter (Paulette Goddard) who inherits a mansion on Black Island, somewhere near the Cuban coast. The island may or may not be fictional, as in doing a bit of homework, the closest you get is an island in The Bahamas. Anyway, the mansion is said to be haunted. She is warned with a phone call from a stranger (Anthony Quinn) to keep away from the place, but Mary carries on with her plan to claim the property and sets sail towards the island. During all of this, a radio announcer named Larry Lawrence (Hope) lets some information slip over the radio about some members of the local underworld, headed by crime boss, Frenchy Duval (Paul Fix). This leads to a shoot-off, and Larry believing he shot one of Duvall's henchmen, which puts Larry on the run for his life. Coincidentally, he finds Mary (who he knows, and is living in the same hotel as Duval) and hides in one of her trunks, ready to head to Black Island with her. On the ship, he refers to himself as a "ghost breaker" - one who looks into, and gets rid of ghosts of the past. Little does he know just how literal he'll have to take his made up job. Along the way, Larry is aided by his valet, Alex (Willie Best), and this is where some of that dated humor comes into play. You sort of have to take it for what it was in 1940, and it's just funny enough to shake your head at it and question how much of it they'd ever get away with nowadays. Alex is very much the comedy relief in this; while Bob Hope has plenty of humorous lines and moments, Alex is that cowardly Scooby-Doo-like character who is so cartoonish that there's a point in the film he's so scared that he turns from black to white. So it teeters with some of its humor. But again, so much of it comes from Bob Hope, himself, who kinda keeps you on your toes with his delivery. Perhaps the most fascinating thing about the film, however, is that this is one of the first visual representations of what is called, in the film, a zombie. Zombies became a thing with 'White Zombie' back in '32, but they'd never become what they are today until 'Night of the Living Dead' in 1968. Up until then, there wasn't much more to them than being Mummy of Frankenstein-like, and it was more of a hypnosis thing than anything to do with the walking dead (at least as far as I know). The zombie is also impressively creepy looking for its time, portrayed by Noble Johnson, who often played extra roles as opposed to anything major. 'Ghost Breakers' is an interesting film, to say the least. Despite some of the dated humor, it's overall a pretty cool idea for the time, and one of the earliest examples of horror comedy. The super famous 'Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein' wouldn't be for another eight years, and one of the only horror comedies predating it is 'The Cat and the Canary'. It's always a lot of fun for me to go back in time and see what inspired my favorite subgenre of film, and I look forward to first-timing some more of these as I go. 4/5  This somewhat under-the-radar film managed to grasp my attention upon finding out that the titular character here was pretty much the inspiration for the Joker, at least as far as the look. I can definitely see how. But I was curious to see whatever story was behind such an odd looking, creepy character.
In 17th century England, Lord Clancharlie (Conrad Veidt) comes back from exile to see his son. King James II takes the peer, and Clancharlie finds out, just before being killed, that his son was sold to a bunch of comprachicos, Basically, comprachicos translates to "child-buyers". They would purchase children and alter their physical appearance through unnecessary processes while they grew up. When they became adults, they would either be sold to royalty as court jesters, or making their livings as charlatans, working through deception and trickery. Clancharlie's son, Gwinplaine (Julius Molnar, Conrad Veidt as an adult) ended up getting a permanent grin carved onto his face, and abandoned in a freezing cold winter. While seeking shelter, Gwinplaine comes across a dead mother clutching her still-living baby. He takes the baby with him, and eventually finds Ursus, the philosopher. Ursus finds the baby to be blind, sees Gwinplain's secret smile, and takes them in from the cold to raise them. Some years later, Gwynplaine ends up putting on shows, as a clown, with Dea (Mary Philbin - the baby he found). The pair are in love now, but he won't marry her due to shame of his appearance, even though she can't see it. He soon takes a liking to Duchess Josiana (Olga Baclanova), who possesses an estate that interests a jester named Barkilphedro (Brandon Hurst), a man involved with Clancharlie's execution. Barkilphedro causes some trouble by revealing Gwynplaine's lineage in an attempt to get awarded by the queen. Gwynplaine must also face Dea now, wondering if it's possible that Josiana could love him for who he is, since she can see him, and is actually seemingly attracted to him. Despite all of the horrific elements within the film, it's another drama, as opposed to horror. As Roger Ebert apparently put it, "The Man Who Laughs is a melodrama, at times even a swashbuckler, but so steeped in Expressionist gloom that it plays like a horror film." That pretty much seemed to be the way of things for a good chunk of the silent film horror era, and they largely brought what could be considered stage plays to life. I have to commend the makeup Job Veidt got for this. It's very clear how this was able to inspire the look for the Joker. It's insane, but he really doesn't drop that smile for the entirety of the movie. I can only imagine what his face must have felt like after shooting this. For context, this is the same guy who played the ever-frowning and bug-eyed Cesare in 'Caligari'. This wasn't particularly up my alley, story-wise. I found it somewhat confusing in parts, and some of the melodrama was a bit much for me. With that said, though, some of the performances here were still great. I have to give Veidt a lot of credit for really sticking to what he needed to do to make this work. I mean, where would my favourite DC villain be without this role existing? It's nothing spectacular in my eyes, but worth checking out if you appreciate silent cinema's dramatic side. 3/5  We're finally into something altogether unfamiliar to me, which I didn't realize at first is one of the first horror comedies in existence. 'Abott and Costello Meet Frankenstein' (to be featured later this month) is often credited as the first commercially successful, but here we have one from the silent film era, and it holds up surprisingly well!
A rich, old man by the name of Cyrus West is shown being warn down by his prying relatives, comparing them to a bunch of cats surrounding a nearly defenseless canary, hence the title of the film. His relatives await his death so that they can grab some inheritance. However, he stipulates that his will waits 20 years to be read. The 20 years pass, and his relatives arrive at his large, eyesore of a creepy looking mansion. The will is read, and Annabelle West (Laura La Plante) is the only family member to inherit anything, since she's the only one left carrying the family name. That is, if she is deemed sane. If not, the money goes to someone else, along with some diamonds. The name of that someone is sealed within an envelope, which is picked up by a lawyer named Roger Crosby (Tully Marshall), but before it can be read, Mr. Crosby disappears. This begins to unravel a series of events that point to Annabelle being on the more unstable side of her sanity. I actually quite enjoyed this one, and would happily add it to my list of recommendations that lie somewhere under the radar. I found with this one, you get a little bit of that "meeting at the mansion" cliche, used in movies like 'Clue' or 'And Then There Were None'. But it combines with a sort of haunted mansion vibe, as the ghost of Cyrus West is still known to be haunting his house. This is actually a great title for horror comedy fans to take a look back on, to sort of see where things began. It adds a lighthearted creepiness to things, while up until this point, what I've seen has been pretty dramatic overall. It's not what you'd call a knee-slapper or anything, but the point is, it still plays with the concept much more than anything on my list I've watched so far. It's one of the best titles on my list yet, and it's not even what you'd call a big name as far as these classics go. You may have heard of it before, but it's not on par with anything quite like 'Nosferatu' or 'Hunchback'. The music is enjoyable at atmospheric, and the acting is well done, using so many emotional expressions. I can also appreciate the way the title cards are done. When someone's in fear, it'll change to some kind of horror font, but while things are reasonably calm, it's pretty normal. I think it's the first time I've really seen font add to the mood of things. All in all, it's a fun time, and far too under the radar. Hopefully this review helps get it out there a bit more. 5/5 |
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