Pieces (1982)

Director: Juan Piquer Simón
Writer(s): Dick Randall and Joe D'Amato
Starring: Christopher George, Lynda Day George, Frank Braña, and Edmund Purdom

Usually, critiquing a movie is a pretty straightforward process: you watch it, you formulate a solid opinion one way or another, and then you sit down to try to put those thoughts into review form. After all, there are really only three possibilities: it's either good, it's bad, or it's neutral. That's what I always believed, anyway, until I stumbled on the insane mess that is Pieces, which feels like it was directed by three different people, all with varying levels of competence ranging from “mild”, to “none.”

There have, and always will be, movies that are “so bad they're good”, but Pieces exists on an entirely different plane from most of the others. This is because it alternates rapidly and wildly between disparate emotions with freewheeling, reckless abandon. Take the intro, for instance. A young boy is putting together a puzzle of a nude woman when his mother, who is clearly the controlling type, busts in and catches him. She is livid, and takes things a little too far by swearing she will kill him if she ever sees him doing something like this again. She orders him to grab a plastic bag, which she is planning on using to burn the puzzle, but he has other ideas and instead returns with an axe, which he uses to kill her. But it's obvious this isn't just an innocent, ordinary kid...he is clearly a sociopath in the making; next thing you know, he's using a saw to hack her body into little pieces.

The next shot is the child calmly putting the puzzle back together again, which is now soaked in blood. So, too, is the rest of the room. He hears sirens, sees the police entering the building, and then hides in the closet, pretending to act scared when the cops find him there. We can surmise from the ensuing discussion that he is regarded only as a witness to a horrifying slaying, and that he is never considered a suspect. The opening is a little cheesy, but it's still pretty powerful stuff that shows what director Juan Piquer Simon is capable of, although the rest of his filmography seems to disagree.

Now we flash-forward forty years later, to an unidentified college campus, where young female students are being picked off one-by-one by a masked man wielding a chainsaw. Lt. Bracken (Christopher George) and Sgt. Holden (Frank Brana) are quick to arrive on campus to start their investigation, but their department seems to be rather underfunded, and unable to spare anyone else to help them out. Showing off its giallo inspirations, the two officers randomly enlist the help of a student at the school, Kendall, who is cleared as a suspect early on and all-too-eager to lend a hand.

It also shows off its crazy side, by having a famous tennis star, who happens to be a cop to earn money when she is not playing in tournaments, go undercover at the school to try to bait the killer. Just try to ignore the fact that she's about twenty years past the killer's target age, making her a lousy decoy; thankfully, only about five people seem to go to this school, so the plan actually makes better sense than it normally would. Oh yeah, and despite her being a professional tennis player, the actress that played her clearly had no idea how to actually play, yet that didn't stop the filmmakers from including scenes from a match against one of her students (according to the director, they had to hire a tennis coach to teach them how to at least lob the ball to give the appearance that they know what they're doing; between their sloppiness and the lousy editing, it's still all too evident). What is the meaning of any of this?

But that's part of its charm, because unlike a lot of “so bad they're good” movies, Pieces never takes itself too seriously, which leads to some earnestly funny scenes. The problem is, there are so many plot holes and poorly-written moments that it occasionally feels like we're laughing at things we shouldn't be laughing at. And that's a good chunk of what makes this mess work as well as it does: I can't recall another film that somehow manages to blur the line between “good” or “bad” so effectively. In many “bad” movies, the filmmakers involved are usually earnest in their intentions, and just have the misfortune of not having the talent (or the time, or the budget, etc.) to live up to their ambition. With Pieces, it's nearly impossible to tell what scenes were actually played for laughs, and which ones get them accidentally, but none of it seems to matter because you get the feeling that the filmmakers didn't seem to care. Again, whether they didn't care about the film, or merely what the audience thought about it is yet another point that gets blurred. Case-in-point: It contains a sequence that has immediately shot near the top of my list of “Most Pointless Scenes in Cinema History”; but unlike the “pancake” scene in Cabin Fever (which occupies the #1 slot), which is an idiotically “comical” scene in a film that was otherwise serious, this one actually manages to be hilarious, in an odd, off-the-wall kind of way. I won't reveal what it is, but even in a film this bizarre, you probably won't have a problem picking it out.

Technically, Pieces is adept at what it does, though it is never astonishing. The soundtrack (who is credited only to “Cam”, though it is the work of no less than three separate artists) is mostly repetitive and average, at least during the kill scenes, which don't add much in the tension department. The gore mostly comes in the form of aftermath shots, that are admittedly pretty grisly and disturbing given the film's obscure, but probably minimal, budget. However, those expecting some “live” blood, or graphic kill scenes will be largely disappointed. It's photographed competently enough, though not as interestingly as one would expect having been clearly inspired by earlier Italian slashers (known as giallo films).

I have to confess that I liked Pieces, but I am also aware that many people will not. I have always had a soft spot for films that don't cater to audience expectations, and this is certainly one that marches to the beat of its own drum, no matter how idiotic or ill-advised it may be. But in this world of watered-down, mass-produced bullshit being paraded around as “entertainment”, it is sadly refreshing to find a film that only plays to its own interests, rather than the wants of its audience.

RATING: 6/10

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Nightmare City (1980)

Director: Umberto Lenzi
Writer(s): Antonio Cesare Corti, Luis María Delgado, Piero Regnoli
Starring: Hugo Stiglitz, Laura Trotter, Maria Rosaria Omaggio, and Francisco Rabal

Aaaah, the Italian zombie movie. On the one hand, it has provided us some classics, such as Lucio Fulci’s 1979 epic, simply and appropriately titled Zombie, and on the other, it has given us some abominations, like Umberto Lenzi’s Nightmare City. This is a film so inept, that it goes beyond the entertaining kind of bad, and instead becomes a masochistic exercise of unbearable proportions—and of course, I am talking about for the viewer.

Fulci’s zombie exercise worked because, although the plot was threadbare, and the writing atrocious, it was obvious that time and care went into something on the production; of course, I would be referring to the effects, both in the gore, and the make-up department. Very rarely are either of those anything less than astonishing, and that’s even comparing them to modern films, who have mastered the art of computer-generated blood but will never master the spirit of the “real” thing.

Lenzi’s film does not work, because the whole film looks like it was written and shot in one of those 72-hour filmmaking competitions, where contestants have three days to write, shoot, and edit a movie. The “zombies”, which I guess for technicality’s sake, are actually “mutants” (though billed as zombies in all film-related literature) simply look as if they’ve had mud smashed onto their faces, while a vast majority of the kill scenes simply consist of poorly edited attacks—a zombie will apparently stab (more on this later) a victim in the chest, with the camera set up behind the victim, the camera will cut to a shot in front of the victim, and all of a sudden the person’s face is covered in blood.

As with many Italian horror films period, this one is only loosely plotted: An airplane lands on a runway in an unmarked European city. After it becomes apparent there is no one in the cockpit, police are called to the scene to investigate. A reporter, Dean, is on hand to interview a scientist about a radioactive accident that is all over the news. He brings his cameraman with him to investigate this mysterious plane, in the meantime. Finally, the doors open, and out step the mud-faced radioactive mutant-zombies. What makes these undead creatures even more interesting than the normal brain-dead shamblers we’ve seen in so many previous movies, is that not only can these run, but they also seem to retain similar brain capacity compared to when they were alive. This spells trouble for survivors, because these mutant-corpses can shoot guns, swing axes, and stab with knives—so basically, they’re just radioactive supermen described as zombies in an attempt to appeal to the masses.

Anyway, Dean is so horrified by what he sees, that he runs to the nearest television station and interrupts a terrible live dance routine to try to warn people about the impending attack. Surprisingly, television station owners don’t take kindly to people interrupting their shows to ramble on about gun-toting zombies, and so his speech is cut off, and he is kicked out of the station. Down but not out, he instead narrows his focus; instead of trying to warn everyone in the city, he sets his sights on just warning his wife, Anna, who works at a nearby hospital.

After they escape the hospital (which is under attack), the rest of the movie consists of the couple on the run against seemingly insurmountable odds, interspersed with random footage of large groups of people being killed by the mutant beasts. That might sound like a formula that could work, but given the uncoordinated “fight” and kill scenes, it all just comes off as an improvised, rushed mess. Even the Dean and Anna scenes are largely uneventful, with Dean briskly walking away from a threat of danger that never feels urgent.

It doesn’t help matters that Dean is the kind of character who is always so calm and collected, that he can’t be bothered to run, even when the situation dictates it. His face also seems to be used only when absolutely necessary, meaning he frequently looks blank and lifeless in the face of dangerous situations, and this is the guy that we’re supposed to be rooting for. There’s also something that annoys me about his wiry facial hair that I can’t quite put my finger on…it looks like it was glued on, or something. Everything about him screams the opposite of “tough lead character in a mutant-zombie film”; “librarian” would be more the character that springs to mind.

I know, I know, these movies are often terrible and, to an extent, that’s their appeal. But as I said earlier, there has to be a line between “enjoyable bad”, and “just plain bad bad”, and this one tends to fit snugly in the latter category. It’s very rarely humorous, whether intentionally or not, and the kill scenes are largely thrown-together; as is everything else. Even Stelvio Cipriani’s score feels out-of-place, and he’s usually pretty reliable: it might be a pretty decent score, just not for this film. It’s not scary, it’s not adrenaline-pumping…it’s just a rather slow slog that never amounts to much. I guess in this regard, it might have more in common with the film than one would think.

RECAP: Nightmare City is that worst kind of horror film: one that’s so plainly godawful that it’s not even entertaining in a bad kinda way. The kill scenes are poorly-staged and terribly-edited, while the gore scenes are cheap and hokey. Makeup effects consist only of smearing mud on people’s faces, apparently, so even those are pure hokum. Even Stelvio Cipriani’s score feels like it was just thrown in randomly, and his music is usually pretty close to a sure thing. I really want to end this on a positive note, but I’m seriously struggling to even come up with a positive that I can justify. This movie does have a following, so fans of this kind of movie might like it, but I’m definitely not among its champions.

OVERALL RATING: 1.5/10

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The Green Inferno (2013)

Director: Eli Roth
Writer(s): Roth, and Guillermo Amoedo
Starring: Lorenza Izzo, Ariel Levy, Aaron Burns, and Daryl Sabara

I'm going to admit that I had read some discouraging things about Eli Roth's The Green Inferno, and they did not prepare me for a positive experience (the most discouraging thing, I think, being the name "Eli Roth" behind it). They also didn't prepare me for just how ugly this finished film is. But then again, what should anyone have expected from a film that was finished in 2013, and then resigned to sitting on a shelf for two years?

Lorenza Izzo plays Justine, a college student who listens to a lecture about genital mutilation in one of her classes, and is then motivated to make a difference in the world. Well, actually her motivations are kind of mixed: She has the hots for an activist leader named Alejandro, which leads her to accept an invitation to join his group. During the first meeting, she makes a joke that offends Alejandro, and is immediately ordered to leave. One would think this would be the end of things, but Jonah, another member, goes to apologize on Alejandro's behalf and smooths things over.

Alejandro's group is going overseas to protest deforestation of the Amazon, and of course Justine thinks it's a great idea to join them, having literally met the leader just a few days prior, when he chewed her head off for telling a joke. Her roommate, Kaycee, mercifully decides to stay at home because she thinks the trip is too dangerous. It's merciful because Sky Ferreira, who plays Kaycee, is absolutely godawful as an actress—her entire “chops” consist of painting her face with a permanent scowl, and disgustedly reciting her lines, which come out with zero conviction. Not that anyone else in the cast is Oscar-worthy, but all of them at least rise above Ferreira's nonexistent standards.

The group boards a small plane, with the trip largely funded by Carlos, a shady drug-dealer. This whole operations seems completely legit so far, so Justine has absolutely no reason to question her decisions about rushing into this whole affair. The plane is small, but it gets them safely to where they need to go; they take boats the rest of the way to their destination.

The group (I'm not going to name anyone else because all of them serve ignorant, stereotypical functions, i.e. the fat guy in love with Justine, the funny guy, the woman threatened by Justine's presence, etc. and all of them die anyway) dress up like the corporate workers, and chain themselves to trees. This catches the attention of a militia, who go to remove them from the premises—a tough task, given that they are locked up—while the protesters film every second. Poor Justine must have missed the week where they went over how to close a lock, because as she tries to shut it, one of the men removes her from the tree, and threatens to blow her head off. He probably would have gone through with it had he not been reminded of all the cameras around. Faced with the fact his murder would be livestreamed to thousands of people, he relents, and instead all of them are put on a plane back home (after Carlos pays them off).

I'm not sure if Eli Roth is unsure of how the world works, or if he's attempting to mock it, but within the few minutes it takes for them to get put on the plane, their live video has not only gone viral, but they successfully stopped the loggers from ruining the forest. So let that be a lesson to you kids: All it takes to make a difference in today's society is a group of ten like-minded people, a video recorder, and ten minutes.

Anyhoo, one of the engines malfunction, and the plane goes down. Carlos and a couple of others-- including the co-pilot, who is decapitated--die during the crash; the rest are all uninjured, finding themselves in a section of the Amazon that they are not familiar with. Within mere minutes, all of them are either killed or captured by an indigenous tribe that does not appreciate them encroaching on their territory, no matter how unplanned it might have been. They are kept like animals in a wood cage, before being summoned, one-by-one, to the tribe leader, who decides their fates. Some get tired of waiting and try to escape, with expected results. And that's pretty much it.

I don't know if the issue is more Eli Roth's directing or writing incompetence, but Green Inferno is a mess from the beginning. The characters are entirely unlikable, if only for the reason we've seen them in dozens of movies, dozens of times. There's no attempt to even rationalize something as simple as why they're fighting for the causes they fight for—they're simply doing it because it is a convenient way for them to get stuck in the Amazon. It suffers from outright laziness, too: there's no point to any of this, besides watching cardboard characters meet graphic ends. This is the kind of movie for which I could give zero stars to and have no qualms over; in fact, it's the kind of film for which that rating is reserved for.

And yet, I can't. Everything is just so poorly planned and executed that The Green Inferno manages to be a special kind of entertaining, at least in parts. Part of the fun is debating as to whether or not Eli Roth is actually as stupid as he makes himself appear to be by making this film: any scene that doesn't involve graphic gore is treated with a complete lack of interest or concern. I get that this is a throwback to Italian Cannibal films like Cannibal Holocaust, but whereas that one at least had the creativity to pre-date the “found footage” horror subgenre by twenty years, and supposedly has some pointed things to say about the media (or not, depending on who you ask), The Green Inferno is just lowest-common-denominator garbage for indiscriminate horror fans.

Take the scene, for instance, where a female character dies. The group gets the idea to shove a bag of weed down her throat, so that when the villagers cook her body, they will inevitably get high. That Roth apparently thought this was even remotely a valid idea speaks to the ridiculousness of the entire premise; the fact that it works, with cooking vapors getting all 200 villagers completely stoned to the point of keeling over, shows that marijuana is another thing that Eli Roth doesn't quite understand.

At the very least, it gets one thing right: The blood is done entirely via practical effects, and are appropriately stomach-churning. It also pulls no punches: eyes are removed, limbs are hacked off, arrows penetrate necks, throats are slit, and CGI spiders start to eat a man, and then promptly disappear. In the case of all but the latter, they are impressively done, with what I would consider to be an “NC-17” level of spraying blood, if the MPAA was serious about using that rating for anything other than quick flashes of flaccid weiners, or graphic scenes of couples doing things that come naturally from within human nature.

But for all its incredible violence, it somehow doesn't have the guts to stray from the well-trodden horror formula: There's the last-minute reprieve of the main character from a grisly fate (a foreshadowing from one of the film's first scenes), and even the assisted escape by a small member of the tribe. It's formulaic shlock that undermine's Roth's apparent need to be considered an “edgy” director; by the end, the most shocking thing about The Green Inferno isn't the blood and guts, but rather the formulas that he is too afraid to subvert.

RATING: 1.5/10

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Body Snatchers (1993)

Director: Abel Ferrara
Writer(s): Stuart Gordon, Dennis Paoli, and Nicholas St. John, from a screen story by Raymond Cistheri and Larry Cohen, and a novel by Jack Finney
Starring: Gabrielle Anwar, Meg Tilly, Terry Kinney, and Billy Wirth

I have to confess that I have not seen either of the other “body snatcher” films (both of which go by the name Invasion of the Body Snatchers, rather than this abbreviated title): the 1956 original, or the 1978 remake. From what I understand, that actually makes me the target demographic for Abel Ferrara’s “modern update”, which is a term that generally means the special effects are updated, while everything else just goes to shit. In this case, that assumption would be accurate.

Marti Malone is a teenage girl, and also the unnecessary narrator of the story. She is traveling with her family to an army base in Alabama, because her father, Steve, works for the EPA, and has been sent there to run tests on the water system. Along with Steve and Marti, we have Andy, Marti’s young brother, and Carol, the required “hated stepmother” stereotype. The trip gets off to a pretty ominous start when, in the restroom of a gas station along the way, a man dressed in military fatigues holds Marti at knifepoint, and warns her that “they attack you when you’re sleeping”, to paraphrase. She screams and tells her parents about the incident, but of course the soldier is miraculously gone by the time they get there.

The rest of the trip goes without occurrence, and they arrive at the military base a short while later. While everyone else is helping to put things away, Marti goes for a little stroll—and ends up trespassing in a restricted area. She is about to turn around and go home when up rolls Jenn Platt in a fancy car. The two have never met, but true-to-movie form Jenn orders Marti into the car, she complies, and now they are automatically friends. We learn that Jenn is the daughter of the base commander, and so she can basically run around with impunity.

Andy, meanwhile, gets the feeling that something is wrong, after all of the other kids at the base fingerpaint the exact same picture during daycare. He attempts to run away from the base, but is picked up by young, attractive Tim (that will come in handy soon), a chopper pilot (that will come in handy later) who returns him to his home, and catches the eye of Marti. Things don’t get any better for that poor kid, when that night, he has the misfortune of witnessing his mother decompose right before his eyes, while a “replacement” steps out of the closet. This is how the “body snatchers” work: As the random man in the gas station bathroom told Marti, they wait until the victim is sleeping, then slip long tentacles into every facial orifice they can. That data seems to be transmitted to a pod, which then replicates an exact human clone after a few minutes, which then hatches. And once the replica is complete, the old body basically “deflates” away. The “body snatchers” are imperceptible from their human counterparts, except for one telling difference: they cannot show emotion.

This leads me to a pretty dumb flaw in the movie’s logic: in order to trick them, all you have to do is not show emotion. That’s it. You would think that such an advanced species—one that can completely create a perfect replica of a human being in just a few short minutes—would give the replicas the ability to sense whether or not someone is an actual real human, or one just suppressing their feelings, but they can’t. Then again, many zombie movies feature humans that merely have to shamble and “act dead” in order to blend in, so it must merely make an easy writing device.

I think we can all tell what’s going to happen from here: the “disease” quickly spreads, and it’s up to the remaining survivors to put a stop to it. Of course, we know Tim doesn’t die because he’s the only one that can operate a chopper, and Marti doesn’t die simply because she’s the main female lead, and they never seem to die. Other than that, I won’t reveal the many twists and turns, just in case you actually plan on sitting through this.

There are some effective ideas and sequences at play here, which prevent this from being a complete waste of time. The inhuman screams of the clones, used to alert others when humans are nearby, is actually pretty chilling. It loses its impact the more often it gets used, but the first time is especially creepy. And even though I complained about the ease with which the replicas can be fooled, I did kind of like the way they attempt to figure out who is human, by saying something incredibly mean or sad and waiting for a reaction. The way they prey on human emotion in this regard is pretty unique. The updated effects are pretty good, too, though a lot of the themes (and ideas) were put to much better use in the underrated The Hidden. The cast is also largely above average, with Forest Whitaker, in a small role as Major Collins, and Terry Kinney as the father, Steve Malone, in my opinion the best of the bunch.

The reality that a major Hollywood remake is braindead certainly comes as no shock, but what is surprising is the name attached to it: Abel Ferrara. I’ve not seen a whole lot of his filmography, but he has long been known as a director who pulls no punches (reportedly, his own wife walked out of a screening of his incredibly violent gangster epic King of New York, along with about forty others). In Ms. 45 he tells the tale of a woman who is raped twice in one day, and gets her revenge by seducing men and then shooting them to death, while The Addiction draws parallels between vampirism and drug addiction. This isn’t a man who generally takes the easy way out, so it was shocking to see that he made such a predictable, largely soulless picture.

But then again, maybe it doesn’t come as much of a surprise after all: we all need a paycheck, and I’m sure this provided Mr. Ferrara the artistic freedom to make his next few pictures. If that was his motivation, then I guess I can’t really fault him for that.

RECAP: It’s nowhere near great, but it’s short, and has enough cool effects, creepy scenes, and good acting to make it a decent timewaster. I’ve not seen the two previous adaptations of Jack Finney’s novel, both of which went under the longer title Invasion of the Body Snatchers, so I can’t compare this to either of them, but standing on its own merits, it’s a pretty predictable cash grab that serves as yet another curiosity in director Abel Ferrara’s abrasive filmography.

RATING: 5/10

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Dead of Night (1945)

Directors:
Alberto Cavalcanti ... (segments "Christmas Party", "The Ventriloquist's Dummy") (as Cavalcanti)
Charles Crichton ... (segment "Golfing Story")
Basil Dearden ... (segments "Hearse Driver", "Linking Narrative")
Robert Hamer ... (segment "The Haunted Mirror")

Writers: John Baines & Angus MacPhail, from an original story by H.G. Wells, E.F. Benson, John Baines, and MacPhail. Additional dialogue by T.E.B. Clarke.

Starring: Mervyn Johns, Roland Culver, Mary Merrall, Googie Withers, Frederick Valk, Anthony Baird, and Sally Ann Howes

Dead of Night is a British horror anthology from the ‘40s, and while it isn’t the first such film, it’s widely considered one of the greatest. What really piqued my interest was its inclusion in several “scariest movies of all time” lists, where it usually ended up ranking high; if there is a more surefire way to get me to want to see a movie, I’m not aware of it. I’m always looking for that rare movie to frighten me; I figure it has an even greater chance if it’s a smaller, more obscure movie, rather than one where all the secrets have been divulged to me before I even see it (i.e. The Exorcist, The Shining, etc.)

The set-up for Dead of Night is rather smart, especially for a film of its time: rather than falling back on the more typical set-up of merely having a set of people tell stories, the main story serves as a framing device, which links all of the tales together. It’s a pretty fascinating way for everything to unfold, and ensures there’s not an ounce of wasted film time…every moment is part of a full narrative that features a resolution, with the ending bringing everything we have seen together with a kind of cool effectiveness.

It all begins with Walter Craig, an architect, arriving at a farmhouse. He is there hoping to get some work, but right from the outset something is terribly wrong. Even though he has never met any of the six other people gathered in the house, he already knows who they are. He even knows there will be a seventh person arriving, a brunette woman, who will make a comment about how she is broke, an event that comes true.

His eerie premonition inspires other guests to describe their eeriest, unexplained moments. After each story, Dr. Van Straaten, a part of the group, attempts to analyze their stories, and put to rest their confusion by explaining away the mystery using science, circa 1945. But even he has a story that defies all logic…

The stories range from just a couple of minutes long, to around twenty minutes, or so, with the final tale seeming to take the longest amount of time, aside from the main story (I didn’t time them, so it’s pure speculation on my part). In the first, as told by Hugh Grainger, a man has an eerie premonition of a mysterious hearse driver; in the second, as told by young’n Sally O’Hara, a girl playing hide and seek at a Christmas party stumbles upon a young crying child that none of her friends are familiar with; the third finds a woman surprising her husband with a mirror, only to find that it may be cursed from a previous owner; the fourth, which is the only one that doesn’t involve a character from the farmhouse, is a tale told about two golfers, and close friends, who settle their feud over a woman with a round of golf; and the fifth, and perhaps most well-known of the bunch, finds a ventriloquist who might be controlled by his own dummy.

The quality of each piece varies wildly, with the golfing story focusing more on humor, and feeling totally out of place here (especially considering it doesn’t feature any of the characters in it; it’s merely an account of a story told by someone who heard about it). There’s also the small little problem that none of them are even remotely scary, though the ventriloquist’s tale does manage some effective eeriness that’s sorely missing from the rest. It doesn’t help that the narratives in here have been copied so many times (either as a direct result from this film, or just from literature in general) that all of them are predictable, pretty much right from the onset.

The end of the main story, and framing device, should have been painfully obvious to me (and will be to some), but I thought it did a good job of tying everything together. I also have to give some major props to the ending of the ventriloquist piece, which clearly had a direct influence on the ending of the “Drop of Water” sequence in Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath, which in my opinion is far and away the best horror anthology film ever made, and one of the best horror films of all time, period. Somehow, I missed this connection the first time I saw this, but all the pieces are obviously there.

I also feel the need to give the film a little extra credit for helping to kickstart the anthology film. Many others that followed owe their inspiration to Dead of Night in one way or another, and the use of a framing device to tie all of the separate stories together was a nice little touch. Unfortunately, time has not been kind to the individual stories, leaving Dead of Night to be a rather dull sludge overall.

RECAP: It’s technically well made, and was probably a lot more effective in the ‘40s, but time has not been kind to Dead of Night, which is a collection of six mostly horror-themed tales (aside from the lighthearted and misplaced “golfer story”) and all enveloped by the main story, which ties everything together. Frequently cited as one of the scariest movies of all time (appearing on Martin Scorsese’s list of such films, no less), I thought it was rather dull and meandering, with many of the stories utterly predictable and straightforward. It does have a solid ending, though upon inflection it should have been pretty obvious the whole way. But its main endearing quality, at least as far as I’m concerned, is for visually influencing the classic segment “Drop of Water” in Black Sabbath, Mario Bava’s infinitely better horror anthology that would be made almost exactly twenty years later.

RATING: 4.5/10

OLD MAN FROM TCM TALKS ABOUT DEAD OF NIGHT

(Cannot find a single trailer for this movie.)