The Exorcist (1973)

I think I've mentioned before that my knowledge of horror is almost all self-directed, so I haven't seen a lot of the best or most-respected movies, or read a lot of the best books. Until this year, I had never seen this film, usually voted one of the scariest movies of all time. I saw the director's 2000 recut of the film, and it sounds like most of his changes made the movie worse, rather than better. 

I don't believe in demons, possession, spooks, haints, ghosts, or exorcism. This is probably the main reason I didn't find the movie particularly gripping or scary. (Sorry, fans of this movie. Nothing personal.) I can usually turn off, or at least ignore, my skeptical brain while watching fantasy or horror movies, but this film's insistence that it's kinda-sorta based on a true story rubbed me the wrong way (also why I have never seen The Amityville Horror). Let's be clear: exorcism isn't real. It does real-life harm to real-life people, and I can't separate that real-life pain from the escapist fun I should have from a genre movie.

With all that said, I did find a lot of the movie unsettling and shocking, even if it didn't scare me. The sedate opening surprised me by its placid slowness, though some of the rougher, later edits unsettled me and surprised me more. Individual pieces of the movie are shocking, and some of them are effective emotional assaults. I couldn't help but feel the mother's pain and frustration during the first part of the film, though the later torturous excesses shut down my emotions. I still found myself responding, from time to time, from my lizard-brain instincts -- a good trick in a good film. Here, I just felt cheated and almost condescended to by the film. 

So many parts of this film have become culturally-known, of course, that I had their surprises spoiled through osmosis. It would be interesting to have seen the movie, not knowing what Father Karras's mother is alleged to be doing in hell, or to be taken aback by the vomit and head-spinning. That is no fault of the movie, of course, but I'm not sure how much more pleasure I could have gotten from those scenes anyway. Would the movie have been more shocking? Yes. Better? Not to me, no.

I haven't yet heard a review of the new TV show based on this movie (though I can't imagine I'd be interested in seeing it). Apparently, this year there's also a house at Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights based on this, which is rumored to be more conceptual and sounds at least intriguing. This idea feels (to me) better suited to a jump-scare gross-out theme park attraction than a feature film.

Krispy Kreme Pumpkin Spice Juniors

Okay, so I missed a week. So what?

I've got more Frankenstein posts coming soon, but first -- more food!!!

For a few years now, my mother and I have been addicted to the Krispy Kreme Pumpkin Spice cake doughnuts. The density and heaviness of the cake works with these flavors, and the glaze puts a perfect touch on the warm spices.

Finally, this year they're also available in a smaller size. I like the little Krispy Juniors -- they're identical in taste and texture to the full-sized ones, but the serving size is more to my current needs. I've been working on this bag all week, literally since the last time I wrote a post, and I'm not done yet. I'm about to eat my last one, microwaved for a few seconds, and then maybe a cold glass of milk.

(I couldn't find a buy link for the smaller ones, though I imagine they're in grocery stores all over the South. The full-size ones are great too though, I promise.)

Legacy of Frankenstein #5: Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

James Whale's sequel to his first Frankenstein film came four years later, and after he made a successful different Universal monster movie, The Invisible Man. It's widely agreed that Bride of Frankenstein is Whale's masterpiece.

Whale and several screenwriters took years to come up with a story worth telling, and teased a few philosophical points from the Shelley novel, while creating new twists on the original film's themes. Since the first film's release, a new and vigorous censor had come to power in Hollywood, so the film has less than half the murders originally scripted for it, and focuses a lot more on fantastical horror, rather than gruesome realities.

The film opens with an elaborate sequence featuring Mary Shelley herself, along with her husband and Lord Byron, who clamor for more story (while recapping the first film). Shelley tells her audience that she has some ideas for a continuation. So the Creature survives the original film's ending, as does his creator.

As the Creature menaces the film's most irritating character (a comic-relief servant), Henry Frankenstein is taken home to recover from his injuries. Almost immediately, he is taken away again by his old mentor, a crazed philosopher, Dr. Pretorius. Pretorius wants to collaborate with Henry, and has something to show him.

Dr. Pretorius's campy character and miniature creations feel like a (nearly silly) diversion from the original story, but they're a symptom of the changed tone. While Henry and the Creature undergo more humanistic adventures, the true mad scientist of this film is (like Byron in the prologue) a proudly irreverent God-scoffer. Pretorius dines in a crypt, laughs at Henry's attempts to live within conventional morality, and blackmails murderers to further his own ego-driven ends.

This film spends some time explicitly pointing out that man isn't meant to play God (even putting those words into Shelley's mouth in the prologue, though her own stated goals in the novel didn't include that). I don't know how much of this is due to the new censor, or just an overabundance of moralistic caution, but it feels too preachy. In a film where two characters mock God in speech, I'm not sure we also need to be reminded that mocking him in practice is bad. The repeated cross symbolism is almost overbearing. (Though, apparently, my least favorite example, a lingering image of a wall-mounted Christ during a fadeout, was neither Whale's idea, nor liked by him.)

A lot of the original cast had moved on (for health or other reasons) since the first film, so several characters were recast. As someone watching the two films back-to-back (something the movies weren't designed for, and which would almost never have happened when they were released), I found it jarring to have a different person playing Elizabeth (and, less so, the burgomaster). The shifts in tone and recasting, and the addition of a more prominent musical score, make the film noticeably different from its precursor. It's loopier, more creative, though no less horrific.

And, it should be said, it's also more human. Henry's attempts at emotional recovery feel almost like a metaphor for addiction, while the Creature's repeated attempts to find companionship earn our sympathy. Of course, the sweet scenes with the blind hermit memorably tease the Creature (and us) with potential domestic contentment. More than the rest of the film, these scenes succeed at one of Shelley's original stated goals from the novel, the one to remind us how much better friendship is than almost anything else. 

This sequel is much more complex, more deeply-layered, than the first film. It's got the same depth of moody shadows, the same obsession with death and rebirth, but it's also more thoughtful, more expressive, funnier and more horrible. It's just got so much more movie in it.

Legacy of Frankenstein #4: Frankenstein (1931)

How do you do? I feel it would be a little unkind to present this blog post without just a friendly word of warning: it might even horrify you! Well, we warned you.

James Whale's classic film adaptation has proven to be the most indelible version of Mary Shelley's beloved monster. From its endless atmospherics to Karloff's brilliant portrayal, all the parts join together to sum up the melodramatic horror.

There's a reason this film is still revered and beloved, emulated and quaked at. Whale's moody, introspective lighting and staging cemented Universal's place at the center of the monster-movie universe. (Tod Browning's Dracula, ten months earlier, is also note-perfect in every respect, but this second masterwork proved that horror could repeatedly succeed artistically and financially. This film, even more than Dracula, proved the worth of a monster franchise that Universal is still working on today.)

(To be clear: I love the thoughtfulness of the novel, and its philosophic bent really spoke volumes to me. My favorite things about the novel aren't in this film. I think it's possible that someone may, one day, make a good film version of that profound statement. I also think it will never be as beloved as this film, possibly not even by me.)

A few parts of this film seem like filler today: Frankenstein's father, the blustery and speech-impeded Wodehouse aristocrat, is a stock type that exists only to inject a touch of humor into the grim darkness. And the wedding celebrations go on a bit too long for my taste, though the painful undercutting of the joy by Maria's father wouldn't be as effective if they were removed entirely.

But the vast majority of the film is glorious: gloomy lighthouse scenes, the captivating electrical gadgets, Frankenstein's mad (and wholly unscientific) speed-rant about the rays of life. The majesty of Colin Clive's feverish performance contrasts so well with Karloff's quiet childlike simplicity as he tries to grasp sunlight.

I love this film, and I remember loving its sequel, Bride of Frankenstein, even more -- back tomorrow after I've revisited that one.

Pumpkin Spice Frappucino

A quick break from my Frankenstein coverage to mention my first seasonal food:

That's right: bottled Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Frappy Thing. I'm not a huge PSL fan (though I love most of the pumpkin spice things), so I didn't know how much I'd like this one going in.

I've tried all the bottled Frappy Thing flavors before (there are a lot: coffee, mocha, s'mores, coconut, mint, caramel, and my favorite, vanilla) and they're all similar: a sweet, pricey treat. It's always a tasty caffeine delivery system, and this one is no exception.

This one, as you might guess, has no actual pumpkin in it, but the spices are prevalent in the mix. I'm aware this might sound like heresy to my coffee people, but I'm not sure I can tell the difference between this Frappy Thing and a nice cold chai latte.

Like the PSL, this one seems to have flown off shelves quickly (I bought mine two days ago and went back for another today, and they were alllllll gone). If you see one and want to spend $3, it's worth your money and stomach space.

Legacy of Frankenstein #3: Edison's Frankenstein (1910)

Here's the first film adaptation of Frankenstein, from 1910. Film was still in its infancy (a lot of people credit this as the first-ever horror film), and it shows in this production: there are no close-ups or matched shots. There's rudimentary editing (cutting back and forth as Frankenstein watches the creature form), but little else in the way of craft.

However, there is one thing I truly loved about this film. The novel special effect of burning something all the way down, then running the film backwards, so it seems to magically form out of nothing, is still surprising and inspiring. It's a neat piece of movie magic.

The acting, as you might expect, is so big and stagey that there's no room for any nuance or humanity. But that's okay, since the movie throws out almost everything I liked about the novel. It's a simple boy-loves-girl, boy-creates-monster, monster-threatens-girl, love-destroys-monster story in this version. The movie's lack of interest in science leads us to believe that the Creature appears almost organically, from a magic brew. Then Frankenstein himself overcomes his evil temptations and the Creature literally melts away from reality. (It's almost a religious allegory, though not one with the depth or humanity that the original novel has.)

I've mentioned before that I don't often enjoy silent films, even when they're technically and artistically brilliant. This one, like Nosferatu, was completely lost to time, and there's a great story to learn about its rediscovery.  It's well-worth your thirteen minutes, if only to enjoy that one great trick shot.

Legacy of Frankenstein #2: Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus (1818)

Mary (Godwin) Shelley first published her novel Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus in 1818, though her name wasn't attached until a later edition (upon which, predictably, reviewers criticized the writing as feminine, as if that's such a bad thing).

The first edition was longer, less melodramatic, and much more pro-science than later editions, and is more philosophical than we might expect. The book spends a lot of time telling us how Victor Frankenstein learned science, and some little time on his rigorous experimentation. The middle section of the book is nearly completely taken up by the Creature's viewpoint, as he fluently articulates his own learning process, his hopes and dreams and humanity. The Creature in this book isn't Karloff's simple, childlike hulk, though he may wish he could have those simple pleasures. This Creature is literate, cunning, human, and deeply sad.

Shelley's introduction sketches out her creative process (as you probably know, the novel began life as a friendly challenge to tell a scary story) and her modest goals: to entertain (she decries the boring contemporary novel), and to remind people it's good to have friends ("the exhibition of the amiableness of domestic affection" is how she puts it). And that might sound like a silly premise for a horror novel, even if you're writing the first horror novel ever. But it's true: the elaborate framing device is powered by a man's loneliness, and the Creature's evil is caused, he tells us, since he can never know true companionship.

Victor's scientific breakthroughs come at the expense of his relationships: he stops talking to his family and friends for weeks, months, years. Shelley's friends gave up on their stories as soon as the sun came out and they felt like going outside to hang, but she stuck it out and wrote this novel. And, to make a mountain of a molehill, even I, your devoted blogger, am sitting next to my sleeping wife, tapping this out rather than throwing my arm over her and dreaming together, since I'm driven to write this.

People want to create, to leave lasting impressions. But, as Victor finds out, careless half-assery leads to bad children (the Creature also blames his evil ways on Victor's shocked abandonment of him) and unintended consequences. (At least my half-assed blogging probably won't cause the death of everyone I've ever loved, so I'm one-up on the good doctor there). At the risk of sounding like a ridiculous cliche new-age crystal-waver, the secret is in balance. My schedule's tight, but I can read books and write about them and talk with my friends and sleep next to my wife too.

I listened to a free audio version of the original text, read by Cori Samuel. If you have eight hours, I'd highly recommend that you do the same. Her sensitive, no-frills delivery of the story was the perfect voice. Of course, you can always buy a paper edition instead:

Legacy of Frankenstein #1: The Infinite Monkey Cage

What? No big deal, I'm just blogging again.

We don't really know specific dates, but this summer marked the 200th anniversary of Mary Godwin (later Mary Shelley) first creating science fiction and horror as we know them, in the form of Frankenstein. The first version of the book was published in subsequent years, and then underwent constant transformation in its text, meaning, and unstoppable adaptation. I'm going to experience a lot of the best Frankenstein-related media ever, and have decided to start the blogging with a quick mention of the show that inspired me to do so.

Professor Brian Cox and Comedian Robin Ince have, for a few years now, hosted a BBC radio show about science. Frequently, they also discuss popular culture. Their penultimate show addresses the Frankenstein anniversary.

I came into this show completely fresh, knowing only basic cultural-osmosis stuff about the story and its creation, so I really appreciated the deep dive into both Godwin's influences and creative process, and the science inherent in the story. I always like it when knowledgeable people discuss their field of inquiry as it appears in art. Hearing a biologist discuss exactly how impossible the reanimation process would be was great fun for me.

The panelists also pointed out that the original text of the book was much more pro-science, so that's the version I'll be reading soon, and presumably blogging about soon thereafter.

Finally, my favorite spooky TV goth, Noel Fielding, had the chance to discuss science, magic, and monsters, and tell a few off-color jokes.

If you have any interest in science or horror at all, the radio show is well worth a listen. The show-specific link up there will (as of this writing, at least -- I can't say how long it will be available) let you listen to the edited radio version, a tight 30 minutes. BUT! They also release an extended podcast, with at least 50% more goodness, and that's what I recommend. You can (as of this writing) get the extended podcast version on iTunes here, or listen at this link.

The MCU-Westphall Connection.

Normally I review things here (that is, when I bother to write anything at all). This isn't a review, more like a heap of speculation. I know this is gonna get weird, but just this week we were reminded that Colonel Harlan Sanders is a major part of the DC multiverse. So clear your next half-hour and stick with me.

So Captain America: Civil War has been out for a few months, but I was discussing it with a friend this week, and he forwarded me the following screenshot:

That's right. In case you still haven't heard, Arrested Development's Bluth Co. Staircar pretty much appears in the film. (It's not a complete match, but -- barring denial from the directors -- I'm gonna say that's supposed to be the same thing.)

Why? Well, if you're not caught up yet, Cap's last two solo movies were directed by Anthony and Joe Russo, otherwise most famous for directing a LOT of Community. But, they also directed a lot of AD, so if we assume that's the same car, that means Arrested Development exists in the same fictional universe as the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Which is great fun to think about, right? Imagine Iron Man flying in to fight the "giant" mole monster.  Imagine Peggy Carter visiting Wee Britain, or Doctor Strange teaching Gob how to perform real tricks illusions. Imagine 1980s-era Howard Stark being treated by Doctor Norman, or Maggie Lang somehow running into Kitty Sanchez.

But the fun doesn't stop there. Remember this scene?

No? Well, that's ok; I brought links! It's Detective John Munch, appearing on AD. Which means the Marvel Cinematic Universe is tied into the biggest shared fictional universe on TV.  To sum it up, that means the Battle of New York was witnessed by Benson and Stabler. And, god help her, Benson might one day see one of Kilgrave's victims.

I can't be the only person who wants to see Detective Goren haul Wilson Fisk into an interrogation room and berate him about his personal failings for 20 minutes.

But I'm not stopping there either.

That's right. In case you forgot, Munch showed up on The X-Files too. For boring legal reasons, there aren't any "mutants" in the MCU. But The X-Files used a lot of mutants, starting almost at the beginning. Ever so many monsters-of-the-week would make great oneshot Marvel villains. Oh, and speaking of Cap, I seem to remember something about SuperSoldiers there too.

Before SVU, of course, John Munch started his TV life on one of my favorite shows, Homicide. Agents of SHIELD has an assassin named Sebastian Derik, who claims to be from Baltimore. If he started his murderin' ways there, surely his victims were investigated by Al Giardello's murder squad, possibly even by Munch himself.

Homicide also had a guest-star crossover from Saint Elsewhere, which crossed over with a lot of shows: M*A*S*H, Cheers, and The Bob Newhart Show. This is where we really go into the weeds.

Peter Quill was kidnapped outside a 1988 Missouri hospital -- can we assume some of the staff from AfterMash had moved down the road from their nearby Veterans' Hospital?
How close is the Goldbrix Tavern to Cheers?

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And there are now hundreds of new heroes in the MCU! Here are a few notables:
Walker, Texas Ranger (Homicide & St. Elsewhere > Chicago Hope > Early Edition > Martial Law > Walker Texas Ranger)
Ally McBeal (Cheers > Boston Public & Boston Legal > Ally McBeal)
Phoebe Buffay (Cheers > Frasier > Caroline In The City > Friends)
Cosmo Kramer (Friends > Mad About You > Seinfeld)
Barney Fife (Mad About You > The Dick Van Dyke Show > The Danny Thomas Show > The Andy Griffith Show)

And there are a few other heroes that might be in the MCU. For example, Murphy Brown is a real person in the crossover with The Bob Newhart Show, But on Seinfeld, Murphy Brown is a fictional character, played by Candice Bergen.

Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor (owned by the same corporate parent as the MCU -- get on that movie, Disney!) appeared on The Drew Carey Show, which crossed over with Coach, which crossed over with Newhart. But Newhart was all a dream of Bob's character on The Bob Newhart Show, which means Tim Taylor is part of that dream. (Drew Carey also featured an appearance from Daffy Duck, whose WB partner Wile E. Coyote appeared on Night Court, but we're drifting from what I'm generously going to call my point.)

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And speaking of dreams, we're coming close to the end here. Saint Elsewhere famously ended by revealing that the whole show was a dream of one character (which, of course, means that Newhart, Coach, et al, are part of a dream within a dream). So therefore the MCU is all a part of Tommy Westphall's snowglobe dream, right?

In other words, I just completely wasted four hours of my life researching and writing this post. And I would gladly do it again. Of course, there are dozens of other characters and shows I didn't have room to talk about -- who's your favorite "new" Marvel character?

The Little Matchgirl (2006)

The Little Matchgirl (2006) HQ from Bhaskar Chatterjee on Vimeo.

One of my birthday presents this year (thanks, Mat!) was a collection of Disney animated shorts, which has things like Paperman and Feast on it, but it also has possibly the saddest Christmas cartoon of all time.

Hans Christian Andersen first published "The Little Matchgirl" in 1845, and it's seen scores of adaptations and retellings since then. (Here is a loose 1937 cartoon from real-life Disney villain Charles Mintz.) When the Disney studio was planning a third Fantasia movie (which I'd never heard of till today), this was one of the few shorts completed for the project. Director Roger Allers (The Lion King, also story contributor on Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast) jumped at the chance to adapt Andersen's story (this interview right here is a great overview of the project). It was finally released in 2006, as a bonus feature for its Andersen-inspired cohort The Little Mermaid.

Allers placed the action in Russia (since the music is from a Russian composer) and both the onion-dome architecture and Cyrillic lettering help us recognize the setting. The snow drifts down, slow but ceaseless. The most significant change from the original story is a lack of parental cruelty, which opens the story up for wider interpretation. Having not read the original story in ages, I first viewed the girl as homeless, rather than a victim of abuse.

But the most surprising change is the removal of the most cartoony scene from the story: that turkey running around the room, already fork-pierced. I can see how the tonal shift from something so funny would be difficult to achieve in a film this short (just six minutes, if you don't count the credits). And ultimately, in keeping with the Fantasia ethos, the visual content is determined by the music.

I don't intend to lecture you today about empathy and the need for compassion this time of year, but I can't think of anything but all those Syrian refugees. I worry that the politicization of their plight will doom them to wander, homeless, from country to country,

I'm pretty bad at empathy, myself. I try to be mindful of this, but like most people I need frequent reminders. One of the best sources of those reminders, for me, is art. With constant nudging from warm, humane art and the people around me, I hope to become kinder and less self-centered. I can't solve the world's problems, but my goal is to make life a little warmer for a few people. I recently made a small contribution here, and if you can too, that'd be great. Thanks, all. Happier stuff next time, I promise.