Bite Size Halloween: Season 1, Part 1 (2020) (Hulu)

My wife and I were browsing the "Hulu-ween" selection on the popular streaming service when this option popped up. I had never heard of it despite being relatively in tune with available horror options. At first I thought it was because it was a new show, but apparently I'm super-late to the party; the first season was released last year.

Since there are a whopping 28 short films in the first season of Hulu's "Bite-Size Halloween", we're just going to break these down into two separate reviews for ease of reading. And I know what you're thinking: "But it's past Halloween!" So what? It can be argued that winter is even creepier than the time of year when leaves are changing colors and landscapes look beautiful. Because in winter, everything is a barren, desolate wasteland.

Some quick notes: I feel kinda stupid assigning numerical scores to each individual short...after all, most of them are the length of a movie trailer, and have no time for the proper development of characters, or rich story arcs. Therefore, I won't be doing that for each episode, instead giving a final score of the entire series. Deal? Great...now let's get down to business, shall we?

Visible: The first story of the long-winded series is one of the best: After a rather annoying, almost stereotypical start involving a black teen in what appears to be a rougher neighborhood, in a basketball court, it shifts gears. A girl tries playing basketball, only to discover there are four ghosts surrounding her, trying to play the same game she is. Then there’s a twist that’s been done to death. I was ready to chalk this up as an average episode, but the final line (and final reveal) actually packs a human touch, something sorely missing from most other “episodes”.

Mena: A sad, pathetic man takes a DNA test promising to show him “what makes him special”. He eagerly takes it, desperate to give himself some self-worth…and ends up making things worse in the process. This one starts a very concerning, very consistent blend of lackluster story and lackluster execution. The premise is flat and the weird attempt at humor is every bit as depressing as its pitiful main character.

Reborn: Unlike “Visible”, a good final shot can’t save this tired tale of a girl who’s disinterested in being baptized…because she holds a cliched, horrible secret. Rather predictable, and the short running time doesn’t really give it any time to spread its wings and become its own. 

Okay, I have a question 3 “episodes” in: the lengths of these episodes all seem to vary, from 3 minutes, up to 13 for the longest one (which occurs in season 2). Why didn’t more episodes take advantage of a longer running time? A lot seem content with sticking the three-minute length, which gives no time for any kind of setup or character development. Maybe they just wanted to get it over with and move on, a feeling that should be all too familiar for the viewer.

Devil Vac: A woman receives a vacuum (sexism!), only to realize it has ties to the titular entity. Not funny, and the title gives away the only thing that could have been a surprise, although, even then, it still wouldn't have been funny. We'll chalk this one up as another bomb.

Mondays: An old woman attacks a young man in this hilarious installment! Just kidding...it's fucking awful. There’s a promising setup, involving a man who shuns an old lady trying to get on an elevator, but then it devolves into lowest-common denominator humor, that buys into the lame (and incorrect) notion that old people doing young people things is the pinnacle of hilarity ("Look at that old woman dance!" "That old woman swearing sure is hilarious!" "Look at that old woman having sex with..." Okay, I guess there are limits to that theory.) Come on, it's 2021, and this junk was already tired five years ago.

We’re not even a fifth of the way through these and I’m already regretting this decision wholeheartedly. However, all anthologies are hit or miss, so maybe they’re just saving all the good ones for the end? I mean, if true, that makes no sense, but still…I’m holding out some kind of hope here. It's all I got left.

Jane: A forensic sculptor - one who recreates 3D masks of unidentified victims based off written details - is caught off guard by her latest work. It’s obvious, and it doesn’t quite work considering its predictability, but I will say the mask is creepy. Not creepy enough to make this worthwhile, but sadly creepy enough to make this one of the better ones. Even though, to be clear, it's not all that memorable.

Monstagram: Horror should be all about the surprising, and this one partially manages to pull that off, with one of the more shocking sequences of the entire season. A kid in a bathtub warns his mother not to post a picture of him to social media, or else she will face the wrath of "Monstagram" (stupid name), an entity that attacks people for posting certain things online. She ignores him, and of course suffers the consequences. The final shot of the kid is tacky, and another example of the kind of banal humor that's all to prevalent here, but there is a rather graphic scene that caught me off guard. Ironically, it’s the most gruesome story of the whole season, and it's centered around humor. This kicks off another negative consistency that appears in many other stories: Bad CGI monsters that are frequently meant to be taken seriously. This one is more tongue-in-cheek, so it's not as distracting as in some other episodes, but the computer effects are still bad. I'd be interested to see what the budgets were for the episodes: if it was more than $100, I would be shocked. 

Creat(e)ure: All I wrote in my notes for this one is “terrible creature, terrible joke, awful, worst one yet,” and I can't for the life of me remember what this one is. Oh! I think this is the one that actually makes fun of one of the qualms I mentioned in my previous review (CGI monsters). It’s a promising setup, but done in such an unfunny way that it makes one cringe instead of laugh. Just an all-around low in a series that’s already overflowing with them.

The Mime: A guy pisses off a mime, and suffers the expected consequences. This one is an example of filler, which accurately describes almost the entire season. It is done with a tongue-in-cheek feel, rather than playing out as full-on horror. But that decision does nothing to overcome a lame, unimaginative idea.

We’re coming across yet another theme here, and we’re not even mercifully to the midway point yet: The “feel” of these stories varies across the board. Even if these were good shorts (and, to be clear, they’re not), the series would suffer as a whole because it jumps from comedic stories, to ones that actually attempt to be scary, and/or make a serious point. Obviously, I’m fine with varying the content, but they should have at least separated the comedic ones into their own season, or lumped all of them together in the first half of the season (or vice versa).

Gregory: A man refuses to get off the plane, so the stewardess threatens to sick “Gregory” on him. Jesus Christ yet another pathetic tale that’s played more for laughs than scares, and fails at eliciting anything but annoyance in the viewer (or, in my case, blood-boiling rage, but I assume that's just me).

Don’t Go Down to Wildor: A young adult receives a distress test from his brother, who seems trapped inside an old house…but of course that house is not what it seems. This one is quite rare in that it actually has potential - the required use of his phone to see what the house really looks like is inspired, and could have led to something great - but the CGI monsters and tired story completely ruin anything it had going for it. That’s a shame.

Okay, are we halfway through yet? Because I’m about done with these. Oh, and another criticism: I can’t stand how each short has to half that long-winded intro for the show after every episode. Come on, couldn’t they insert them after every 3-5 episodes? There’s literally a gap about the length of a full episode between the end credits from the previous episode, leading to the intro of the next episode. Once again, if this series was any good (and, to be clear, it’s not), this would have been another momentun-ruiner to detract from its effectiveness. The fact that it sucks makes it merely one more reason to hate it. 

Stray: This one is one of the better ones: A mother tries keeping her daughter away from the Pied Piper, only to have her succumb to its creepy call. The mother tries saving her, only to discover it was (thankfully) all a dream…or was it? I wouldn’t consider any story to be genuinely “good” (well, maybe a couple), but this is one is easily top-5 material, mainly because it's the only one that manages to pull off a feeling of creepiness. Again, the short length prevents it from being anything approaching "frightening", but it's at least proof that a 3-minute short can be something other than boring.

NYX: Wow, have we just strung together two above-average stories in a row? Two astronauts - a man named Juno, and an unnamed female - are onboard a spacecraft. Well, one of them are: Juno is outside the ship, while the female keeps in contact with him via the onboard radio. The two remain in constant communication…until things go silent. The woman panics and tries sending a distress call, only to receive communication from Juno. But is it really him? This one avoids the main transgression of other stories, trying to show too much (i.e. CGI monsters) by showing nothing; it is also one of the few that stays completely within the horror genre, and is one of the better ones for it.

Landline: A woman finds a vintage phone at a yard sale, and we flashback to the previous owners and how it ended up there. The flashbacks have a funny ‘80s vibe, and it does manage to be the best of the comedic ones, but the use of the modern day framing device really isn’t necessary. In fact, if you think about it, the final "cliffhanger" doesn't really make sense at all. Still, it's passable, and a rare light in this neverending tunnel of darkness.

Tomorrow, we'll take a look at the remaining 14 shorts (ugh), and assign the series a final score. Does this series end on a high note, or is it just more of the same? Hint: it's definitely the latter.

Dave Made a Maze (2017)

Director: Bill Watterson
Writer(s): Steven Sears and Watterson
Starring: Meera Rohit Khumbani, Nick Thune, Adam Busch and James Urbaniak

Dave is a thirtysomething man with a hot girlfriend, who feels like he hasn’t accomplished anything with his life. He seems like a man who’s riddled with ADHD: he fills his free time with a variety of crazy ideas, which he quickly abandons the moment he has ideas for his next one (something to which I can sadly relate all too well). 

After his girlfriend, Annie, leaves him alone one weekend, he decides to build a fort out of cardboard boxes. From the outside, it looks like a simple little creation; creative, but more a waste of time than anything else. But when Annie tries to lure him to come out, we learn that it’s not quite as simple as it seems - on the inside, it’s a massive multi-room, booby-trapped hellscape featuring a minotaur who craves human flesh. Worst of all: he can’t find a way out of his own creation.

He tries dissuading his friends from coming in to help rescue him, and risk getting lost (or worse), but eventually, they realize there is no other choice. Against Dave’s wishes, they enter - a merry band of misfits including his nerdy best friend Gordon, Annie, a documentary film crew (?) who want to make a film about the motivations behind his creation, and even a couple of Swedish tourists (??).

If it all sounds dumb, that’s because it is…and that’s the point. It’s clearly not meant to be taken seriously. And that’s part of what makes Dave Made a Maze so special: its freewheeling creativity. The fort's massive interior is filled with origami birds, dangers made out of cardboard (yet that pose a serious life-or-death threat to the protagonists), and blood made out of what appears to be papier-mache (or a similar material). There’s even a scene where the characters turn into hand puppets, an unexpected addition that only adds to its unique charm. The end credits feature animated versions of all the characters of the movie - living or dead - as they wave to the camera; it feels like the cinematic equivalent of a post-performance theatrical bow. It all feels like the quiet daydreams of a young child, the kind where they dream of being the hero, coming to the aide of the damsel (or damoiseau, which I just learned is the male equivalent) in distress, while avoiding monsters and traps. It's like a throwback to the innocence of childhood, long before the dark shadows of adulthood take hold, and threaten to ruin one's natural curiosity. And that nostalgic quality is part of what makes the whole film feel special.

Also lending itself to the experience is the cast - who are uniformly committed to the sometimes bizarre material - and the set design, which is an absolute work of art. The maze itself almost becomes another character, feeling like a living, breathing entity that helps to maintain the film's whimsical attitude. It looks and feels like an A-movie in a B-movie's body, thanks to its attention-to-detail and the obvious care with which it was made.

Now, there are some things working against its fevered frenzy of seemingly endless imagination: It comes mainly in the form of the documentary film crew, and Dave’s dramatic on-camera diatribe about the reasons he made it. The film’s director, Harry, spends the whole film trying to maximize drama and tension, utilizing a boom operator and cameraman (who randomly spits out sunflower seeds almost every time we see him) who follow him wherever he goes. He’s the typical kind of douchey on-screen filmmaker, played for laughs but frequently crossing the line into annoying. Yes, part of that is the point - and by the end he almost becomes likable - but it doesn’t make him feel any less clichéd, and his hapless, bumbling helpers (a boom operator and cameraman) don't help matters any.

The minotaur - who is a buff man with a cardboard head - is also rather pointless, although I guess they needed some kind of immediate threat beyond the constant stream of booby-traps. He shows up at random, pre-planned times to scare the main characters, but feels more like a character in one of those Halloween haunted houses, where part of the effectiveness is lost by performers who aren't allowed to touch the participants. 

There is a small body count, but once again, the papier-mache violence isn’t the point. It’s the banding together of several outcasts, in order to save one of their own, and the often humorous struggles they encounter along the way.

Despite its confusing billing virtually everywhere as a “horror” movie, Dave Made a Maze fits more comfortably in the “fantasy” genre, a throwback to ‘80s adventure films like The Goonies, and Labyrinth. That's because that's what it's meant to be. It’s goofy, it’s funny, it’s silly, and perhaps most importantly, it’s fun. Maybe that misleading connotation is why it unfairly came and went without so much as a peep when it premiered four years ago; this is the type of cult movie that deserves a following. Fans of true horror, or those that like their storylines to be more grounded in reality, won’t find much to like here, but those who seek a film with a laid-back non-pretentious, un-douchey arthouse vibe definitely will. 

RATING: 8/10

TRAILER

The Dark and the Wicked (2020)

Director: Bryan Bertino
Writer(s): Bertino
Starring: Marin Ireland, Michael Abbott Jr., Julie Oliver-Touchstone and Lynn Andrews

The Dark and the Wicked, at its core, is a somewhat familiar tale of a family who live in an isolated farmhouse. Such stories are becoming more and more commonplace with the recent success of films like The Witch, and this one feels like it was inspired by Robert Eggers' popular horror film: aside from the location, the film's droning score and constant sense of dread feel very similar. However, whereas The Witch is a notorious exercise in slow-burn horror that certainly isn't for everybody, The Dark and the Wicked - once it gets going - is an almost unrelenting attempt to terrify and shock its audience. 

This film centers around two siblings who are summoned to their parents’ house to care for their dying father. One would think their mother would be happy to see them, but she constantly appears nervous and on edge; like someone - or something - is always on her mind. So anxiety-ridden is she that she constantly warns them to leave, and tells them that they shouldn't have come. It doesn't take long for them to see why: Almost immediately strange things begin happening, and as we can tell from the frequent shots of the prone father lying in bed, chances are good he somehow has something to do with it. 

The relatives brush it off at first, but they can only brush it off for so long. It starts off as merely creepy happenings - chairs moving around, lights turning on, and far-off sounds in the distance; things that can be nervously laughed away. But eventually, the innocent happenings take a turn for the sinister, and the siblings realize they should have heeded their mother's warnings. Is all of this linked to the dying man lying in the bedroom? Or are the dark forces that are lingering around after someone else entirely? 

There aren't really many twists to the basic storyline, but the story isn't really the film's focus. Much like the plotlines for slapstick comedies are just a way to throw in as many jokes as possible, or the setups for porn are just excuses to have people copulate in a variety of interesting ways, the sole reason for The Dark and the Wicked's threadbare plot is to disarm the viewer with an almost unrelenting series of inexplainable phenomenon: Once the scares start - and they start fairly early on - they rarely let up. 

Part of its effectiveness is that it doesn't rely much on jumpscares, which is a welcome change from the norm. However, the sheer effort it undergoes to petrify its audience actually works to its disadvantage at times. While that might not sound like a legitimate issue - this is a horror film, after all, and horrifying the audience is the name of the game - the attempts come so often that we almost become desensitized to them. Don’t get me wrong, the experience as a whole is frightening, but it becomes slightly predictable within its own universe as it wears on. Furthermore, some of the scare sequences just feel like lazy writing: In what could probably be considered a minor spoiler (so don't read it if you don't want to know anything about it...and you shouldn't), hallucinations make up a good portion of the terror sequences in the second half, and it kind of feels like a copout at times. The scenes are really well done - and a couple are beyond effective - but it's also further proof that the story really doesn't mean anything.

That being said, there’s an atmosphere of dread that permeates virtually every scene, and the film does a great job of pulling you into its world; it's the kind of film where your heart sinks every time the sun goes down, because you know something terrifying is going to happen. I haven't felt that feeling since I saw the original Paranormal Activity over a decade ago (during its limited release and before it blew up and went viral).

Surprisingly, at least to me, this was written and directed by Brian Bertino, the man responsible for The Strangers. Outside of one or two scenes in that one, I wasn't very impressed with the end result. Here, he proves he has the capability to maintain a sense of dread throughout the entire runtime. Even during the sequences where you know something is coming, he still manages to make the payoffs work more often than not.

If you're a fan of horror, this is almost required viewing. It builds up - and more crucially, maintains - the dread of a "slow burn" tale, while throwing one malevolent scene right after another at the audience. It doesn't always work, but it works well enough that, chances are, there will be at least one scene that sticks with you when the memory of the rest fades away.

RATING: 8.5/10

The Love Witch (2016)

Director: Anna Biller
Writer(s): Biller
Starring: Samantha Robinson, Jeffrey Vincent Parise, Laura Waddell and Gian Keys

There aren’t too many movies like Anna Biller’s The Love Witch, a film that she not only wrote and directed, but also produced, edited, and scored. It’s a rather bizarre comedic throwback to ‘60s horror. So unique is it that it’s rather hard to explain to those who have not been cast under its spell. 

Samantha Robinson is the beautiful Elaine, a witch who doesn’t seem to have much luck with members of the opposite sex, despite her frequent use of love potions and spells. So she kills them, before almost immediately moving on to the next one. She reeks of desperation, falling immediately for man after man and hoping that they will simply return her love and turn her into a housewife.

Unfortunately, Elaine’s witch instincts are rather poor; she often “overdoses” her subjects with spells that are too strong; as a result, they turn from “typical” cold-hearted men, into sappy, oversentimental babies who become too dependent on her. This, we quickly learn, is a turnoff for our protagonist: Even the desperate have their limits, after all.

No one seems to notice her killing spree (when friends ask, she merely tells them that she had to call off the relationship because they were too clingy), allowing her to continue with reckless abandon. There’s a hilarious scene in which she seduces - and then kills - the husband of a close friend while she is out of town, then keeps trying to change the subject when her distraught friend tries to tell her about her husband’s murder. 

Of course, all “good” things must come to an end; soon, she discovers that a police detective is hot on her trail. He is good-looking and confident, the way all men “should” be, which naturally makes him an ideal mate. She manages to seduce him…with unintended results. Is the man tasked with taking her down the man of her dreams? Or will he be just another victim to her ongoing scheme?

What’s refreshing is that this isn’t some cliched story about a woman who’s carrying out premeditated murder. Well, I guess it’s premeditated in that, at some point, she knows she’s going to carry it out, but Elaine goes into each relationship actually hoping that she has just met “the one”. She’s ready to settle down with any man who succumbs to her charms, which is also a reference to the male-dominated world of the ‘60s. 

Where the film gets its charm is from its trippy aesthetic: characters dressed in ‘60s style attire, are surrounded by decor and paraphernalia from the same decade, yet it’s actually set in the present day. Adding to the film’s sense of style are the “theatrical”, stilted performances - done intentionally in yet another homage to the style of the ‘60s - which somehow feels appropriate and is well-executed, although it certainly won’t be to everyone’s taste. 

Robinson is perfectly cast as the sultry seductress. At the risk of sounding shallow (I know, I know, looks aren’t everything) it’s easy to see how she could lure so many men under her spell. She does have a natural presence about her that also puts the viewer under her spell; we cheer for her to find her soulmate, even as it becomes more and more evident that such a man might not exist. She’s charming and likable; even we are willing to overlook her murderous streak, in the hopes that she finds her Mr. Right.

Its sole downfall is that it is painfully overlong, clocking in at exactly two hours. While that might commonly be seen as a minor transgression in most films, it’s a rather large one for a film like this, where the hammy acting and campy style all starts to lose its luster and become rather tedious. If the length felt necessary to fully explore the story, that’s obviously one thing. Yet its plot is simple enough that it easily could have been trimmed of some of its “fat”, without ruining the story or breaking its momentum. It never fully qualifies as “boring”, but it surely comes closer to eliciting that emotional state than it should.

Despite that, I’m certainly recommending The Love Witch to anyone looking for a unique spin on the horror genre; especially those who are typically not fans of such films. Those devoted to the genre might be off-put by the weird style, and lack of focus on the horrific elements (which are often played for lighthearted laughs), but for anyone with an open mind, The Love Witch provides enough character to distinguish itself in an overcrowded genre.

RATING: 6.5/10.

Triangle (2009)

Director: Christopher Smith
Writer(s): Smith
Starring: Melissa George, Joshua McIvor, Jack Taylor and Liam Hemsworth

Look up a list of the best horror movies of the 2000s, and you just might find Triangle amongst other well-known classics. Yet it’s virtually unknown here in the United States, despite a fairly well-known cast (Melissa George is one of those actresses that you might not know her name, but chances are you’ve seen her before; a pre-fame Liam Hemsworth also has a supporting role), and unique storytelling structure. This is mainly because it inexplicably never received a theatrical release in the U.S., despite theatrical runs in the U.K., Belgium and the Netherlands.

I suppose it makes sense that it never reached U.S. shores in theatrical form, because it’s exactly the type of movie that only would have made it to the arthouses: It’s a twisty, sometimes confusing, but always engaging film that defies description. In other words, it's the exact antithesis of American cinema, which tends to require straightforward, linear stories that are neatly tied up by the end. 

In what seems to be the norm for me as of late, it is yet another film where discussing the plot at virtually any length risks spoiling many of the surprises; actually, I would say this film virtually demands you to go in without any former knowledge. 

Melissa George is Jess, an overwhelmed single mother with an autistic child. She clearly needs a break - something that’s painfully evident from the way she handles her son accidentally spilling some paint - and so a getaway on a sailboat with some friends seems to be just the thing she needs to help clear her mind. Only, things aren’t right from the start: she seems dazed and out-of-it from the very beginning…maybe this trip wasn’t so good for her after all.

A few minutes into the groups’ sailboating expedition, a sudden storm seems to come out of nowhere. Far from shore and caught off guard by the inexplicable change in weather, death seems inevitable for the group. That is, until a large ocean liner happens to virtually appear before their very eyes. The stranded group boards the large ship, expecting to find some people that can help them; they are shocked when they discover the vessel is completely abandoned. But Jess’ behavior only gets weirder from there…

Ignore the simple, mundane setup, because Triangle is anything but mundane: Once the story gets going, it’s one virtually unrelenting twist and turn right after the other. I always harp on how many genre films lack originality and are cliched in one way or another, but Triangle is one of the most unpredictable movies I’ve ever seen, with a story that grips you and never lets go. Everything seems resolved within the first 40 minutes, leaving the viewer wondering where the plot can even go for the remaining hour. it seems backed into a corner, with no way out. But not only does it keep chugging along, but it does so without a narrative misstep, or any over-the-top scenes that cast the viewer from its spell.

The “feel” of the film has been compared to the works of David Lynch, but that feels more like a copout than anything else. Why do people always feel the need to lump unique things into categories? It feels like a coping mechanism for critics to deal with something that they can’t fully understand. Triangle has a feel all its own; not once was I reminded of Lynch, or really anyone else for that matter. It has shades of Memento (a film which writer/director Christopher Smith acknowledges was a main influence), but it’s not even content with taking that film’s unique storytelling structure, without deconstructing it and turning it on its head. 

For being a “horror” film, it does manage to touch on some pretty weighty themes, such as the difficulties inherent of raising a special needs child, and how we as humans fall into seemingly unbreakable cycles, to name just a couple. Through one woman’s story, it summarizes a lot about the darker side of human nature; at the risk of offering up a very minor spoiler, I will say it’s certainly not a film for anyone who favors happy endings.

Actually, come to think of it, it’s not a film for anyone looking for an ending, period. I mean, sure, the movie ends, in the way every film has to. In just about the only cliched scene, it even ends the way most films do: with a cut to black and credits rolling across the screen. But, just like the events that precede that, the ending is ambiguous, with even the writer/director himself stating that there is no “right” answer: We are presented with clues, and then formulate our own opinion based around those clues; that’s often the mark of challenging, thoughtful cinema.

And challenging, thoughtful cinema has no place in cinemas here. 

RATING: 9/10