Moved: The 100 Greatest Contemporary Horror Films (I've Ever Seen)

[No-Personality]

Wait, is the House listed the one with the guy that is a war vet?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1cW6ElRA14w

Yep.

[gunswordfist]

Alright. That's the one movie I'd recommend to anyone that likes Evil Dead.

[Spark Of Spirit]

Man, those special effects on those old horror movies are so good. I'm not a big fan of all the CG they use now. It looks way too clean and takes away what makes it horrific.

[Dr. Insomniac]

Yeah, I generally think that the worse a horror movie looks, the scarier it can be. Grainy camcorder footage of a guy getting a live autopsy is much better than an HD view of a masked man stabbing jackass teenagers for 40 minutes.

[No-Personality]

#80. Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge (1985, directed by Jack Sholder)

Guilty pleasure time. There are plenty of gay characters, gay filmmakers, and even some classic, heavily-coded, gay films throughout history. But horror, while being the least overtly homophobic of genres I've noticed, is still pretty much a world of straights in terms of filmmaking. This is usually for the best, however, since in the last couple decades specifically when gay filmmakers have a chance to make a horror film, this is what we get: Click Me (but maybe not if you're at work). I've heard a fair amount of positive talk about 2003's HellBent but, until I see that, I think it's safe to say Nightmare on Elm Street 2 is the best gay horror film on the market. And, you may be surprised to learn, both the director and screenwriter are straight. The reasons it's a quality horror film should be obvious to anyone - it has an appropriately dark tone, the acting is very strong, it's interesting and well-written, the special effects are excellent (most of the time; I've never liked the facedogs), and the camerawork is both highly ambitious and highly effective - though this was considered for the longest time by fans of the franchise as the weakest film. I think that changed as the mainstream began embracing both gay culture and dorky camp-film appreciation. This remains the best gay horror film I've seen because it has the necessary qualifications for a good horror film and, yet, goes further than it needs to by having a compelling female character in the cast and giving its' protagonist some good fantasy play appeal (even though the film doesn't allow the character to come out, no one would question whether the actor playing Jesse is gay). It would be one thing to cast a soft or effeminate young man in an otherwise traditionally straight role- this movie has Jesse being fondled by several men, dancing in jeans (which look tight in the shots they choose) to bubblegum pop in his bedroom, climbing through the windows of shirtless teen jocks, and spending a significant portion of the movie in his underwear. This is all especially pleasurable. Only one question remains... Where does the guilty part come in? For me, the thing that makes this film largely imperfect is the family dynamic. The fact that they are far too involved in nearly every step of his self-discovery. To quote Darlene from the infinitely-wise Roseanne: "I don't think this is one of those times a boy needs his mother." The same, naturally, goes for the father who spends his screentime being the blaming party even though Jesse never gets to where he's going in his own personal story. This is another problem, there is no real end to the story. Although it doesn't hurt the film very much. This is still about Freddy Krueger and the ending reaffirms the truism of the original: no matter what last thing you ever do, you're not getting out of this place.

#79. Bay of Blood (aka- Twitch of the Death Nerve) (1971, directed by Mario Bava)

Mario Bava is probably considered by scholars, historians, and a fair share of fans the greatest Italian horror director there's ever been, no contest. I've never had that easy a ride with his films. I've found every single one of his pre-1969 films I've watched disappointing to say the least: Black Sunday, Black Sabbath, and The Girl Who Knew Too Much, aka- The Evil Eye. And I hate Lisa and the Devil with a passion. But, there is a light at the end of this tunnel because, for whatever reason, for me he had a real golden era- beginning in '69 with Hatchet for the Honeymoon. From there until 1972, he could do no wrong. Well... nothing entirely wrong. Yet, while Bay of Blood is probably the most beloved, respected, and influential film (it was actually a huge source of inspiration for Friday the 13th, there are even 13 murders in Bay while Friday's trailer led audiences to believe there would be 13 in that film as well) of his career, it amazes me that this is the film credited as the grandfather of the slasher film. Not because there aren't enough murders and they aren't graphic enough. Because the only section of the film which could truly count as a slasher (the identity of the killer remaining hidden) is basically an entirely different film stuffed into the cracks of this one. What the main film is is a murderous Amazing Race type competition between a host of scummy people who all want the fortune of the dead countess who owns the bay and one-by-one kill each other to get it. Does that sound silly to anyone else? Somehow, Bava manages to keep the whole thing pretty moody with dark (and colorful, so it strikes that right balance of creepy deception through sheep's clothing) cinematography, just the right music to make you instantly suspicious, and by making the characters as sharp and untrustworthy as possible. But that plot is still stretching the genre 'til about the breaking point. You might find yourself feeling legitimately uneasy during the randy-teens burst-in to-party-and-have-sex scenes but, after that, you know exactly who the killer[s are], what [they're] doing, and what's going to happen to [them]. If I may bring Disney into this for a quick analogy even though they're not in any way related to this movie; it's like asking you to be afraid watching Cruella DeVil or the Coachman from Pinocchio go into the woods knowing Jason Voorhees is waiting in the bushes 50 feet away. What the film chooses to do instead is try to find a strange kind of sympathy for its' dirty, rotten scoundrels. We still watch them being butchered and brutalized by an unrelentingly vicious [...camera] but the movie doesn't want most of the bad characters to die without first being granted their due humanity. It's your choice what to dwell on. The atrocious English dubbing or the intriguing premise. The awful, unconvincing gore effects (calling them fake-looking would be a kindness) or the gorgeous cinematography.

#78. The Video Dead  (1987, directed by Robert Scott)

After what has likely been over 20 solid years of my being a sincere fan of horror, I really hate to take this attitude but: it's always the ones you least suspect. Hype really has done a lot more damage than good. When I saw this movie, I was on kind of a losing streak. I'd recently seen Phantasm II, Hellbound: Hellraiser II, Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II (I know, STOP watching sequels- right?), Blood Diner, The Blob (remake), and most importantly, Night of the Creeps. All on the basis of fan-hype and none of which I thought lived up to their respective laudings (though I've already started seeing the good side in Mary Lou, so I do change). All of this only serves for me to set my expectations higher rather than lower. And I never forgot this movie, based on one lone recommendation back in 2000. And like a really good, mostly unheard of, Troma film, The Video Dead flies well under my hate-rays by being modest, not taking itself seriously, placing emphasis on amusing rather than dramatically compelling characters (don't ask me what bug flew up Creeps's ass), and (this is where I feel I need to admit my snobbishness as a movie-watcher) taking risks last. When compared to the likes of Day of the Dead, Re-Animator, or Night of the Creeps, nearly any Troma film or The Video Dead looks like it's playing it safe. Especially in their idea of comedy. Which usually involves an absurd situation or character who does something and it's not necessarily mentioned again in the story. I think when a movie does this, you have to look more carefully to find what makes it tick. Also, given that this was the mid-to-late 80's and horror was getting more anarchic as a rule thanks to Gremlins and The Return of the Living Dead, I admit it's harder to read a film's intentions. What's most fascinating about Video Dead at first is that if you could see yourself in this situation, it's pretty true to life. When a somewhat arbitrary gate brings a small army of zombies into a quiet neighborhood, they don't swoop over houses and decimate the population. They seem to instead take their time adjusting to being alive again (though without the movie making a big deal about it). They examine the houses and play with the objects inside when there are no people in sight to kill. The camera will show us one person struggling for life in one house while at the house next door, another person walks around outside looking bored. But the movie's not merely content with being existentially comical. Most prominently, the movie's strangest character April begins parting with reality completely upon the death of her parents. While the brother and sister pair we've been following for the bulk of the story are trying to figure out what to do and how to survive the zombie mini-apocalypse, April gets some Donnie Darko-esque dialogue about wishing to escape this situation through time. Meanwhile, she doesn't know anything about the zombies and the brother and sister have the benefit of the advice of a cowboy guy who keeps ringing their doorbell, inquiring about their haunted TV set. This informs the movie's surprisingly dire ending where almost all the characters we've met die off and the only survivor has to find a trick to get rid of the zombies even though there's no one else alive to give them any tips.

#77. Mary Reilly  (1996, directed by Stephen Frears)

So, a lot of people really don't care much for critics. I've always generally defended them because to me most critics don't really try to talk about things they know nothing about. But... what about those films marketed to general audiences which they have to do research before coming to see? The big budget period film has always baffled me. These things were made to be boring. And I firmly believe most audiences only go to them to feel more cultured than they really are or to get a visual history lesson instead of reading about the time, place, and themes of the movie in books. For some reason, critics can be harsher on these sorts of films than they need to be. They never choose to criticize the audience because that would make them look like snobs. Instead, the filmmakers and actors tend to get the harshest whipping. I can't believe 1973's Theater of Blood didn't have a bigger effect on the critics, that they never stopped to take a reflective look at themselves from the outside. Critics over the years have increasingly become a bigger part of the culture over each decade. And it stuns me that they took so poorly to this film. Yes, Julia Roberts slips with the accent. So does John Malkovich. But, do you know something? I barely noticed. I don't really expect anyone else to be as engrossed as I am in the film but, I think anyone would have to admit there's something special about it. Even if it defies history or the period in which the story takes place. One thing that did outright impress me about the movie is that it's not made by squeamish filmmakers. It's a Hollywood film with major stars and you would think there're dozens of people behind the scenes at all times apt to take a high-nosed attitude about any minor detail and yet, it's an incredibly bloody and refreshingly violent film for a period costume drama. It's thankfully well-enough under 2 hours long and never will 5 minutes pass by without something fairly unpleasent with no modicum of restraint crossing the screen. And that goes for the acting as well. We eventually get a break from the blood and the rampant violent attacks (on men, women, and even children) so that Glenn Close can continue her onslaught of cinematic super-bitchery (which you may remember seeing in the likes of Fatal Attraction, Disney's 101 Dalmatians remake, and Frears' 1987 hit costume period drama Dangerous Liaisons). She's fun. However, something that isn't so fun at first is the stone cold George Cole (1971's Fright, considered an inspiration for John Carpenter's immortal Halloween) as Mr. Poole, a kind of enemy for Mary. Except for the other members of the house staff (Mary Reilly of course is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde's chambermaid), no one is really nice to Mary in the story. But this guy is just the most oppressively rigid lording boss I've ever seen in a movie. It's all the more unsettling given the period, which is the excuse for talk of women reading being equated with "bettering themselves" (in the exact connotation you'd expect) and any small show of concern being seen as aggressive insolence. And since this is in period, Mary can't really pull a Will Smith and verbally lash out against people who are abusing her. But her totally respectful mutual friendship with Malkovich's Jekyll makes me cheer when he uses his authority to punish Poole for being so harsh with Mary. Maybe I'm a slightly more old-fashioned person that I think I am but someone had to stick it to him. However, the way Mary rises above her abusive father leads me to believe the movie is a little more feminist than some might believe. She certainly didn't have any man's help doing that. Unless you consider Jekyll's amateur therapy sessions a way for her to get her bad feelings for him out in the open. Who taught her to suppress them in the first place?

[No-Personality]

#76. Dr. Giggles (1992, directed by Manny Coto)

Okay, so the 1990's was not the best decade for horror. Uniformly. Or, even in chunks. It started with a very interesting kind of bang in terms of a small but powerful wave of extremely serious films. Several of which are here on this list (so I'm not going to name them just yet). And which, as a sort of movement, poised the 90's to really clean up as a decade. As well as literally clean up the messy, entirely directionless late 80's. At least the early 90's knew exactly where it was going. For awhile. I find it to be a truly underrated time for the genre with at least a solid dozen important, must-see films in maybe 3 years. (Meanwhile, the new millennium? I have a hard time coming up with a top 10 list of movies in TEN YEARS of returns from that wretched era! An improvement on the 90's my ass!) (Yeah, some people actually say this last remake-addled 10 years of crap was another golden age in the genre. I... "disagree," anything but humbly.) Anyway, I was saying about the serious films... With a wave of anything seriousness, there's always an undertow of movies that want to be the exact opposite. And, so, the likes of Peter Jackson's Dead Alive (aka- Braindead) and The Frighteners, the Leprechaun franchise, a ridiculous profileration of Children of the Corn and Puppet Master sequels, the brilliant There's Nothing Out There, Tremors and ensuing franchise, and Dr. Giggles were spawned. And, out of that list, there are only really 2 extremes. Uncommon approaches to the genre for this time. Dead Alive's demented, cartoony, kung-fu splatter film with foot on gas pedal and Dr. Giggles's parody of wisecracking slasher villains. Specifically Freddy Krueger, who beginning with Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors had turned into a one-liner spouting machine who was becoming progressively less scary sequel after sequel. All of which just had to keep up that trend of cracks and puns in every death scene. Giggles takes this further than anyone could have imagined. Even literally giving him 4 "kills" in the maybe 3-minute opening scene just so he can deliver anywhere from 6-10 puns and tell the audience what movie they're in for. And he's just warming up. At least half the movie follows him around as he sets up his nasty little basement surgery room and he doesn't stop even when he's not killing. A lot of horror fans flat out hate this movie and I could understand why, as a kid- I hated it too. But, over the years (upon which I never rewatched it), I didn't really have a reason why. It's just an ugly movie for a young Care Bears fan like myself (that's right- I was crazy about them). But about 5 years ago, I bought the DVD cheap, rewatched the movie, and had a blast. I'm even ready to call it a very stylish film. It looks great. Anyway, something I've learned about slasher fans: gore, novel methods of killing, a lot of blood, and top notch special effects are what's most important to them. I wouldn't have a problem with that if in this case, they weren't glancing over a really interesting (or at least amusing) film just because it's more focused on racking up the bodycount than making the deaths memorable. Only one of the deaths here is memorable (involving one of my favorite horror actresses- Michelle Johnson, from Waxwork and Tales from the Crypt's 3rd season, getting a most viciously unorthodox liposuction). Where the movie really roped me in is in just how unseriously it chooses to handle (future star of Charmed) Holly Marie Combs' drama over her and her mother's shared heart problems. This is also where Michelle Johnson is most helpful- she plays kind of bitter slut and there's an entire subplot involving the animosity between the two characters and... there isn't a single scene where they're in the same room together. That is clever. From the style to the unflattering portrayals of stock slasher film victim characters to the awe-inspiring collection of puns (all health, medicine, doctor, and hospital related)... I'm more than willing to call this an underrated classic.

#75. It's Alive (1974, directed by Larry Cohen)

I'll be damned if open interpretation doesn't just kill a lot of potentially great horror films for me. Some movies really want to push the wrong buttons and, thereby, leave me looking like the drooling, dunce-cap wearing doofus wondering how morality got thrown completely out the window while everyone else "gets" their ironic anarchy. The one that really leaves me scratching my head (until you can see blood dripping down the side) is George Romero's Martin. But if I start talking about that movie, I may never stop (that thing is so sideways, I can't even tell what it's about). But, I've also had some trouble wrapping my head around Larry Cohen's It's Alive trilogy. Mainly because of morality and how it affects other people's interpretations. For example, plenty of people have surmised that the baby's deformity is an allegory to homosexuality. Specifically- the way people don't understand the baby, are quick to judge it without thinking deeply, and are proned to a kind of panic upon it being loose / uncaged or even alive. However, here's the great catch: the baby kills people. Not just people who are scared when they see it. Anyone. In any situation. This is best exemplified by the milk delivery man who merely notices something's jumping around in the back of his truck and knocking bottles on the ground- breaking them. All he does is put himself in range of the baby's claws and he's a goner. I still really want to talk about Martin but I'd like to think I've been pretty respectful of religion so far in this countdown. The link between that film and this franchise has got to be a matter of insane compassion. Although, having any sympathy for a character like Martin is - I think - pointless and does not prove rewarding. The nutty sequels aside, you don't have to care about the It's Alive baby because the point is that the parents do and Cohen is playing anthropologist and the film is studying the parental instinct to both despise and want to protect a child no matter what's different about it. The religious snag is where most fans believe the babies never attack unless provoked, whereas Cohen shows the babies have more sporadic behavior patterns. By Island of the Alive (the third film), they've grown to understand who to attack and when / why. But as babies the movie isn't actually making a statement that they will seek revenge for unjust persecution. Rather, Cohen just wanted to argue the blind fury of newborn children. And give them weapons to show us what they're capable of. All of this adds up to the movie being about the merits of abortion. Meanwhile, intentionally bad examples of human communication and social blame run wild. Pills, pollution, genetic predisposition, lead posioning. The parents struggle to try and regain their lives while being hounded by the media, devious journalists, scientists, doctors, cops, and... anyone they come across. The whole world is against them. This leads mother Sharon Farrell to go a bit cuckoo, spend her nights laughing hysterically at Road Runner cartoons, and flutter around the house in her nightgowns inviting strange people in suits to have dinner with them. Director Cohen has had a very interesting career, trying to balance art and ambition with schlock and sensationalism. It's Alive is like a Hitchcock film as directed by William Castle. And in color.

#74. Evil Clutch (1988, directed by Andreas Marfori)

After sitting through far too many pretentious new millennium movies, I think I've come to understand what people actually see in the last 13 years of crap peddled to us with "horror" cheaply branded on it. They believe they are a return to the edgy, nasty, grungy, twisted, dirty grindhouse films of the 70's and early 80's, though they're actually shot very hi-tech and made to look sleek and slick. Like a typical Hollywood thriller or action flick, such as Taken or Christopher Nolan's Batman movies. There is literally no difference. Is that really what fans think horror films used to be? The more films such as High Tension, The Devil's Rejects, and The Descent have become - in popular opinion - the classics of the 2000's and their aesthetic took over the genre entirely, and of course the more they and their clones have failed to engage me in the slightest, the more my appreciation for this hideous little 80's Italian import has grown. And grown. And grown. You see, Clutch actually has what these films are acclaimed for. This film is dirty. And nasty. And twisted. Mostly because it has some pretty disturbing sexual interests. The kind that have burrowed into my brain. But, this is a really skanky movie. Without showing you any graphic sex, you can just feel tiny crabs and herpes-laden kisses leaping off the screen. It also has a skill for redefining the concept of "I can't believe what I'm seeing" right before your eyes stuff. The plot involves a couple of hikers getting lost in what seems like a never-ending maze of foggy woodland paths leading nowhere. They get mixed up with a witch who has a hypnotic power over men, whom she proceeds to mutilate during foreplay and feed pieces of to a mysterious plant. Her victims then turn into zombies who rise to attack the living. But she's also hiding a very interesting secret: she has a giant claw between her legs. She fools around with the romantic couple until she gets bored, after she drugs the boyfriend with black sludge from her cauldron and he plummets into green drool-spitting delirium. Then she retreats back into the shadows while her zombies make quite a mess out of the couple. And vice verse. Maybe I have a weakness for really weird plots (you sort of had to know it was something special by the almost Lovecraftian animated poster featuring an evil-looking woman transforming into some kind of snake mermaid), but I believe this is crudely intriguing, creepy, thoroughly filthy, and structurally archaic. Maybe not in a good way. It's a film where a guy gets his hands dismembered because a brutal, almost Hills Have Eyes-inspired zombie bashes his arms repeatedly against a giant rock with a giant rock. Is this any different than one animal mauling another, in terms of any deeper meaning? Not sure. But the zombie here is a thinking, feeling, somewhat rational monster who not only allows his victim to stumble away and disappear out of sight but wants him to get away. He's playing with him. (Think Spider Baby, where the Marrye family begin to psychologically regress to a more childlike state and turn their now adult and teenage strengths and capabilities to tormenting and murdering people they meet.) Oh, and the movie also implies that this particular zombie is on the warpath because another man was fooling around with his chick (the claw-gina'd witch). As a kid, the thing that fascinated me most about the movie was its' seductively ominious pop theme-song. Deeply searing guitars, operatic vocals, and some sweetly (poetic?) freaky lyrics about a woman who is only at home in the night with evil creatures. It may not take place in a city, but this is the ultimate "dark alley" horror flick. There isn't a single person in this movie you'd want to run into through shadowy corridors. This movie isn't just sick, it's devious. Which I used to hate and think there was no need for in the genre. Until, of course, the plague of horror movies where the characters are so worthless and unlikable that you only want to see them die quickly to ease your own suffering besieged the world.

#73. The Crazies (1973, directed by George A. Romero)

Pretty much all the best horror films of the 1970's were steeped in tragedy of one sort or another or played with drama like they were hard-hearted. Of that lot, George Romero can claim two of the most depressing. The spooky and deceptive Dawn of the Dead (deceptive because the viewer often thinks it's meant to be a horror-comedy), and this disease-horror remake of Night of the Living Dead. Beating David Cronenberg to the start of the body-horror subgenre by 2 years, it would be fascinating to compare this chaotic military-horror film to Cronenberg's equally impressive Rabid (1977). Both share various themes; a population of people attacked by a disease that infects them one-by-one, not knowing what's really going on or how to stop it, the military having to physically step in and weed through people, and an attempt to create a vaccine. Cronenberg's film is smoother and more engaging while Romero's film may be the first in history to suffer from shaky editing rather than just bad camerawork. Since this is so cheap and Romero's style back in the day was to use some pretty cruddy library tracks from other movies, his insistance on trying to make this a hard and fast action film dates it horribly. The first time I viewed this, I was bored to tears and could barely sit still waiting for something to happen. Romero likes intense stories of human interaction and enhances them as best he can with actors acting intense. Everyone seems to be on the same side; we see politicians sweating, military personnel with hearts of gold, really-pissed off scientists, and some kind of police force all dressed in white Hazmat suits. They all yell and scream at each other while trying to establish a system of handling the outbreak of civilians going insane and attacking the people who aren't infected. A seemingly uninfected 5-person group is formed and the movie becomes about their fight for survival as they try to figure out how they escape military capture. This is wise since we quickly learn the soldiers are just throwing everyone they catch in big rooms together. Anyone who isn't yet infected become infected because of this, while the soldiers figure they'll come up with a vaccine... eventually. The 70's were a decade in the genre of very few happy endings. So, I don't really have to tell you how this turns out. I will tell you this though, with Romero's keen sense of irony, the ending we get is one of horror's biggest surprise moments of genius. Once you've processed all of what's between the lines. Watching the movie now it's a lot like Carrie, the teen drama that becomes a full-fledged terror tale. The Crazies is a disaster movie (the opening mostly focuses on property damage - houses being destroyed and raging fires) that becomes a powerfully sad and potent horror film which, along with The Last House on the Left before it and Deathdream the same year, represents a wake-up call that the laidback, peace-and-love 60's had ended. This film focuses more than those on distrust of authority figures (the survivors are literally on-the-run from people who actually do want to help them) and rather than youth, how adults are affected by panic of the breakdown of society. Friendships are tested, every variety of family is torn apart, and in the end- hope is entirely annihilated. Both this and Carrie also share a highly personal tragic tone and a fine talent for simmering its' blood effectively until it reaches boiling point. This film never explodes like that one does but the results in relation to the main characters are every bit as devastating. And it has relevance to the audience's world as well. By focusing much more on how an individual person handles the extreme sense of personal loss as a result of this widespread epidemic.

[No-Personality]

#72. Clownhouse (1989, directed by Victor Salva)

Horror is not usually geared directly at kids. For better or worse, kids are typically seen in the background or reduced to the child in peril to get a reaction from adult viewers (Cujo). Adults (or "mature audiences," as a lot of ratings-wary advertising clarifies) were the first audience horror movies were tailored to. It was only somewhere around the time of The Blob in the 50's when cliches were being invented just for young people and with that, horror started focusing more on teenagers instead of relegating them to the role of "crotch dumplings" (sort of like baby Weebls, they come as a package deal with the parents). This was done because people behind the camera realized teenagers could go out on their own or with friends their own age to see movies without an older guardian tagging along. And it shaped the future of horror because somewhere around the 60's and 70's, horror became less about marketing to an age group and more for giving anyone who wanted the see each movie, the full adult experience. Especially with Dawn of the Dead, movies were starting to look toward Unrated as an option to completely avoid the shackles of an R-rating. Having to cut down any material the MPAA might find unsuitable. So it was only natural that in the overkill 80's, a decade in which it felt like everything was targeted to a specific group (because everything was market researched to hell: thanks, Corporate Disney), they would throw that rule out and start making horror movies specifically so kids could watch. This began pretty much with non-genre movies that wanted to use horror to raise the stakes in a few moments - 1984's Ghostbusters and, shortly after, all Tim Burton's films for about 5 years - and finally experienced a horror explosion in the late 80's with a huge number of horror movies for kids (or starring kids, so the parents would feel comfortable sending the 17+ brother or sister ahead as chaperone): Critters, The Lost Boys, The Gate, Monster Squad, and Return of the Living Dead Part II to name a few. The rise of the PG-13 horror film, though many of these have since become cult classics, was consequently where many fans feel the quality of horror dropped off. Don't ask me why. I mean, personally I believe the less graphic a movie thinks it's allowed to be from the start is where it learns to get creative. House, even though it was rated R (maybe it didn't expect it would be), is a chief example. R rated horror typically doesn't want to have as much fun, focusing more on deeper meaning or allegory which kids aren't as quick to pick up on. I can't say this film really changed anything. But it was one of very few films which were self-aware on the then-new trend of kid-oriented horror and the opposite approach- the graphic, bloody or gore-heavy fare that occasionally got parents in an uproar. Clownhouse makes the decision to go retro and do without a lot of special effects.

Clownhouse, though to many it remains unheard of, is actually a very controversial film. But - ignoring what happened behind the scenes for a moment - strictly as a film, it's kind of brave. Not because it doesn't want to be gory, though it did risk alienating the more jaded viewer by choosing to focus on the nature of fear in children. Aren't children afraid of everything? Not to mention the Ninja Turtles / Power Rangers generation I was raised in, the kids who think anyone can just karate chop or flying kick any person who might want to do them harm. The film goes a little further than that and explores human vulnerability. Everyone, regardless of age, can be utterly terrified. Something which, though the director during the time of filming was playing the role of a real life boogeyman, the film knows a lot about. The story focuses on 3 young brothers (aged around 11-16) left by themselves in their very big house one random October night but none with the guts to be alone in the dark. Casey, the youngest, is trying to convince his brothers he isn't afraid but after he sees a flier for what looks like a clown-themed carnival he turns into Jamie from Halloween 4. Never knowing when a reminder of this trauma from his past will appear but suspecting it will happen at any time. The interplay between the brothers, their rough and freakishly personal dialogue is a constant reminder that Salva has a disturbing preoccupation with childhood sexuality (usually defined by mocking and humiliation). This (as well as a really shocking shot of the actor playing Casey nude from behind) makes the film really hard to watch to this day (as does the fact that Salva manipulated this same actor into engaging in oral sex with him; he was convicted of pedophilia and went to jail for 5 years). (But, I believe in being able to separate a piece of art somewhat from how it was made. Just because this is a good movie doesn't mean someone who praises it would ever defend what the director did behind the camera.) However, while most 80's horror films lost their edge the second Misery hit screens in 1990 and the style changed from surreal fantasy horror to pretty straight-forward, realistic shocks and psychological, depth-filled stories, Clownhouse retains the full power of its' creep factor. Whether that's because your skin crawls at the prospect of being leered at and/or touched by an ominous figure in the distance or because the dialogue is filled with squirm-worthy references to embarrassing bodily functions- the movie's ability to unease can't be denied. And even if you knew nothing about the history of its' making, you'd have to agree. It helps that the film is a throwback to the John Carpenter 70's school of horror: subverting the numbing quality of violence during death scenes and cranking the dial up on the pre-kill fear. This creates a palpable atmosphere of terror. You get to feel you know the inside of the house pretty well and are legitimately scared at any turn something is waiting to jump out from the darkness. It's more than just a stalker film. It's about not being able to hide from fear.

#71. Inferno (1980, directed by Dario Argento)

There's no doubt about it: women rule Argento's universe. From the killers to the victims, from the lead characters to the smallest, least seemingly significant part in any given film. And into his personal life as well. His mother's work in fashion and photography was as responsible for turning him into a director as his father being a producer was. Her talent inspired his style, his cinematography, and his never-ending dedication to making his female characters the most important element in every film he's ever made. And, what has his own legacy as director given the world of cinema? Apart from one of the most unique and fascinating filmmakers the world's ever known- right now, he's most famous for his daughter, Asia, who blasted into stardom after taking roles in 3 of his films. This is all interesting because for a very long time, Argento was criticized for being misogynistic with his films. Even though there are always more women than men in his casts and they play every sort of role where men are typically made thick, stubborn, confused, narrow-minded, or boorish. And, of course, Argento's never been the slightest bit shy about having men killed in brutal manners. If you look close enough, you see that Argento was fair with both sexes- men and women eventually get every type of role and characteristic. He's covered a lot of ground with humanity. (With his films' typically mammoth running times, as opposed to Lucio Fulci's neat 85-minute gorefests, he'd have to write a lot of different kinds of people.) Inferno even introduces a piece of mythology about female characters whom we've either been introduced to before or will meet in later films. As a result, our very late-arriving male protagonist is given less than an hour of walking around while trying to gather clues to hopefully figure out the strange, mysterious plot. This is customary for an Argento film. What's special about this one is how not only beautiful he is to look at (remember, during I, Madman, I mentioned Joyce Hyser's boyfriend from Just One of the Guys- this is the guy she dumped for him) standing among the usual cast of very lovely women, but also that this is a guy who has no idea where he is or what he's doing. It seems like clumsy writing but, eventually, one film had to have a guy so bent by the outrageousness of Argento's incredible supernatural world that he would almost find himself looking around for a reminder of why he decided to poke his head into the rabbit hole. He gets no answer. Instead, he gets pulled along on the film's hypnotic rails by his character's curiosities and dreams; literally as though he were caught up in a tidal wave. I've read theories that this film isn't about fire at all, that it's actually about water. And while it theorizes on the esoterica of alchemy and witchiness of people who may practice it, the force that really brings about the film's dark fated wonders seems more likely to be what's going on in the sky, the hyper lunar eclipse of doom, than it is any mad chemists.

#70. Dead & Buried (1981, directed by Gary A. Sherman)

The fact that John Carpenter's The Fog came out the year before this film, dealt with an ultra-close and tight-knit small coastal town where everyone knew everyone else, and because of that chose to actually take a breezier, more lightly haunting approach to its' atmosphere thereby making that film a surprisingly relaxing experience (it's one of my favorite films for that exact reason), might argue that Carpenter for once really didn't know where horror was going as a genre. He even once described it as a kids' movie, right around the time of this film's release. 1981 experienced a pretty big boom of horror, though it can be signified mostly by slasher knock-offs like My Bloody Valentine and Happy Birthday to Me on the year's-end poster. However, upon reflection, compared to those films which thanks to Friday the 13th and that franchise's MPAA hatchet jobs taking all the impact out of their death scenes, Valentine, Birthday, and all the other holiday slashers haven't an ounce of sheer brutality or shock left in them and Dead & Buried is almost guaranteed to drive a stake through your skull and make you drop your popcorn and soda. Even in R-rated form, Dead & Buried is a revelatory experience. It hasn't lost any of its' edge, likely because no one has ever heard of it beyond a lucky VHS renter looking for something unusual. With the film's unbelievably high and surprising quotient of viciousness and cruelty (all delivered at the hands of what at first appears to be an entire cult of serial killers), I'm amazed this one received an R at all. Except that it's just not a slasher flick. It's also a well-structured film with a gently creeping tone (there are darker films as a whole on this list) and the cast is very sophisticated (including future horror superstar Robert Englund and Willy Wonka's original Grandpa Joe, Jack Albertson). They're giving this the kind of respect you'd think was reserved for Jaws. And yet, the movie's remarkable factor is without question that you can't anticipate the intensity that rains on the victims in a film about a small town where nothing ever happens. Keeps the genre on its' toes, which is important in a time where people think only the new millennium can shock you. This one earns its squirms and audience's unease, though. Partly because it looks around to see what the other movies are doing before deciding it could turn the dial up another notch. And, probably because it remains almost totally obscure, it never inspired the genre to produce an inferior copy.

#69. Tremors (1990, directed by Ron Underwood)

Can you believe horror movies used to be a lot like this? I actually don't mean smart and engaging (if only studios had a brain in their head, the filmmakers would clean up their act too), I mean old-fashioned. 1990 was the year of the Hollywood throwback. Although 1986's Little Shop of Horrors came first and low budget films of all shapes and sizes (Killer Klowns from Outer Space, Strange Invaders, The Stuff, Near Dark, Fright Night, Critters, Slugs) populated the 80's, it was 1990's Arachnophobia and the almost Spielbergian Tremors that signaled the end of the trend's theatrical marketability but intended to ride it as far as it would go in the meantime. Arachnophobia may definitely be scarier and darker, but Tremors, knowing exactly what it is and every last move it's making- and then trying to strut its' sharpness (as well as the masculinity of no fewer than 3 straw-chewing toughguy studs, with butch country megastar Reba McEntire and city-slick brainy but barely shy Finn Carter matching them cliche-for-cliche), has the edge on pure wit. To start with, it's a monster movie with nary a damsel in distress to be found. There's a minute amount of skin (for leg-men) just so we don't forget it's still a monster movie. But no nubile teens distracted by each others' bodies to make obvious targets (though we do get the requisite Honey, I Shrunk the Kids obnoxious younger brother type- Bob Jacoby / Jayne, who later became a bigger fix of the franchise). Then, it mixes in the survivalist angle with McEntire and Family Ties dad, Michael Gross (who also makes an appearence in Arachnophobia as well; trust me, look for him) as gun-toting country-folk with every weapon and precaution under the sun (they just forgot to think of killer subterranean snake-slugs). And finally, they cap it off with a challenge of the "early bird catches the worm" (no pun intended) philosophy; pitting the smarts of characters who make plans in advance against those who make them up as they go along. There's no denying this is Hollywood's idea of a horror movie and that it has little ambition other than to fly the audience by the seat of their pants, but this is a very good final blend of the elements. And it has just enough pure chill (especially the wife trapped in the car sequence, which traumatized me as a kid and still leaves me gasping for breath now) to at least make it worthy of staring into the eyes of bigger beasts. It aims to thrill and excite, and it more than excels on that promise. For kids of a certain era, it's also priceless nostalgia. Which allows it to stand in canon with 70's and 80's horror classics. How? Don't ask. From miles away, the franchise base kind of screams fantasy product of the more red statey viewer. Now, that's a scary concept. But, I think I'll leave the heaps of flack for the sequels. This one's harmless.

[Avaitor]

Tremors! Now that's a classic!

I even enjoy the first 2 sequels, the third especially. The fourth... yeah, that killed the franchise for a reason. And I can't say that I'm interested in the TV show.

I'm loving this list still; I'm just afraid to comment when I'm so unexperienced with most of your entries.

[Foggle]

I'm loving this list still; I'm just afraid to comment when I'm so unexperienced with most of your entries.

This. Your list is great, and adding lots of films to my "to-watch" pile.

[Spark Of Spirit]

Tremors was a clever one. IMO, that's the type of horror movie they should be aiming for now instead of lame torture porn.

[Dr. Ensatsu-ken]

To be honest, for whatever reason I never thought of Tremors as a horror movie before. I always just categorized it as a monster movie.

That said, I do agree that its a terrific film. I ended up watching it blind on HBO (or one of the various movie channels out there) one night along with my dad when there was nothing else to watch, and we didn't have any real expectations for it, but man were we sucked in when watching the movie. Its so simple yet so compelling to watch, with likable characters (partly thanks to good writing and partly thanks to good performances from the actors) who you actually want to see alive by the end of the movie and a really interesting concept for a movie monster which is utilized in so many creative ways and made believable by terrific, non-CG, special effects. This one's definitely a classic.

I also have to admit to the 2nd film being a bit of a guilty pleasure for me, though it is a pale comparison to what the first movie got right. Everything after that just sucks, IMO.

[No-Personality]

#68. Dust Devil (1992, directed by Richard Stanley)

Okay, now it's time to get that "GUILTY PLEASURE!" sign flashing. In big, harsh, ultra-bright neon letters. I don't really mind taking the heat from anyone who isn't as impressed by this film but I will readily admit for all its' criticism, it does have a pretentious side. Specifically in the area where this is 1992 and any film intending to be serious yet having choice lines such as "do you believe in magic?" is a joke. Horror had already asked the God questions over and over again, and the answer the genre's come up with is: yes, there's a God. In this film, it's novicely whitewashed with code words like "magic" and references to Peter Pan. Time to find something within the nature of consciousness to focus on. However, I genuinely believe in the film's relentless pursuit of existential deeper meaning, it does evoke something. This is where its amazing style, color palette, a few of its' chillier music compositions, and of course the vastness that is immediately suggested by the desert are hugely helpful in setting one hell of a mood. As a result, there are very long stretches of scenes that are squarely beautiful and go a long way in providing an argument for depth in what the characters are going through. Not the black characters, the cop and the gibberish-spouting modern shaman who runs the hopelessly dead local drive-in movie theater, as much as the far shallower white ones. One particularly ridiculous scene tries to show black-on-white violence as the product of corrupt white cops, making every patron of the segregated black bar look like children. Meanwhile, the film's title demon killer is busy gently picking off lonely white travelers who, in a very Silver Bullet turn, are apparently suicidal. Only, before they die, he offers them a final fucking. Considering this is definitely the kind of hitchhiker I'd hope to pick up (ya know- without the whole murderous demon thing), I'd have to say that's pretty generous. The suicide theory may be far-fetched since, after whipping out his knife, heroine Wendy sends him every clear signal that she's chosen life. He might not be the best reader of the human will to survive, but he's interesting company on her journey to find "the edge of the world." The film consistently stalls with lousy, bloated narration but it does have its' captivating side. It's not exactly an even split but you have to take it for what it may be worth to you. If that narrator had been gagged, this could have been a film I wouldn't have to apologize for. Apart from that, though, every character winds up exactly where they belong and get what they deserve. That's wise for a film with as many flaws as this.

#67. Friday the 13th (original Paramount franchise)

Friday the 13th (1980, directed by Sean S. Cunningham)

It's hard to believe a franchise this mammoth started from such a tiny, unambitious germ of a Halloween ripoff. Its' status as a serious horror classic is somewhat undeserved, since it's not a very solid film in any respect. The acting is quite bad from most of the young, unknown cast. The writing is hit-or-miss at best; the dialogue for the killer and the film's adult red herrings is fantastic but nearly everyone in the victim pool is a right moron. The music score - composed by Harry Manfredini, who would come back for the first 5 sequels - is ripe with Psycho and Jaws references; it's great but it's not original in the slightest. The death scenes would seem to be the main draw but Tom (Dawn of the Dead) Savini's gore effects register more as just gruesome (in their uncut form, especially during the very yucky arrow-through-the-throat kill) than well-crafted (you can tell several of these are fake). And while I personally have no problem with the camerawork or editing, Cunningham's direction has been criticized for being hacky and unprofessional.

So... how did this thing ever get off the ground to become the most iconic horror franchise of all? Especially when every last "respectable" critic has panned the entire series? Well, you know the audiences are to blame / thank for that. In the end, it doesn't matter what detractors think- a film will gain a following if it is able to catch some form of lightning in a bottle. Or... fool people into believing it actually means something. I think it did both. In addressing the former, it's important to remember this franchise is iconic. The summer camp setting is the first key. When that camera leers over the camp grounds, through cabin doors and windows, people desperately running through the hard pouring rain, wind licking the trees from a distance as it watches, and someone ominously lurches through the woods... well, it's like the horror version of Wizard of Oz. Stylistically / atmospherically fresh and pure somehow. And audiences were prepared to get swallowed up by it, thanks to Paramount's amazing poster for the movie. Though the movie does certainly have its' campy aspects (no pun intended).

As for the latter, writer Victor Miller has a story where he encountered an agent who praised his work as subversively attempting to turn "the 50's, ma & pa, apple pie, Pepsi Generation on its' ear." Which is actually interesting when you consider how old-fashioned the characters dress and act. Well... until the sun starts to go down. At which point, it's like the wholesome teens turn into wild animals. This of course is supported by dialogue that comes in after the night's festivities begin wearing down - after the rain starts - by the Sheriff character who talks about how people act differently when the moon is full. Which it is in the movie. The movie also references bad luck several times. This thread starts strong when a character raves that the camp is cursed. Another character steps in after that and says it's "jinxed." Then, the counselors themselves start noticing they're not having the best of luck- most notably during the Monopoly playing scenes. So, maybe the series' out-of-the-box success wasn't as big a fluke as some may think. The film does warrant some analysis. Even if it usually gets the worst kind.

Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981, directed by Steve Miner)

If the first movie turned out to be a trend-setter, this first sequel is remarkable not for following so closely in its' footsteps - and several other woodsy horror movies being made at the time: The Burning and Just Before Dawn - but because it was just about the best slasher of the down-'n-dirty exploitation trend that the 1-2-3 combination of Maniac, The Burning, and The Prowler trafficked in. Its' greatest gift to the budding franchise is director Miner's considerable technical skill. The camerawork is first rate in terms of both craftsmanship and... storytelling. Just this week, I noticed something for the first time that I'd never noticed before (and I've seen this movie at least 22 times): a shot of final girl heroine Ginny - this movie's Alice (final girl from the first movie) - exiting the camp's lodge cabin and passing Jeff and Sandra, this movie's sexed-up couple who will take the place of the first movie's Jack and Marcie. Of course I noticed that she passed them and sorta waved goodnight. But this shot actually facilitated the seemingly out of place bit where we cut to them having a conversation about visiting the first movie's cursed camp grounds.

Point being that this small gesture was very smart of Miner. It served to tie-up what I think was a loose end. But more than that, it in a way sews the seed of making Jeff and Sandra the movie's best couple. Let me explain: even though they're the first couple we see, the movie is obviously attempting to give Ginny and her partner Paul the bulk of the story. Since he runs the camp, she's his assistant, and she will later open up the pandora's box that is: even though all the other campers are apparently being lied to about whether the first movie's murders really happened or not, what if Jason could have been real? All the campers are told is that Mrs. Voorhees was the cook and she was "killed." Murdered? They don't really know, hence Jeff and Sandra's curiosity to go see the old campgrounds. Of course, let's compare the characters for a moment. Jeff and Sandra don't say very much. But when you really do compare them, you have a brassy and lively Ginny and... Paul. Who's best described as a polite and cute jerk. Or a waste of time attempting to develop. During Ginny's big monologue, he responds with a pissy face and an "I think you're drunk." Even before that, it's no surprise that he was dead meat all along.

Jeff and Sandra get the real arc. We not only see them first but we get the most insight into how their relationship works - brief though it is, as they get one of the series' most infamous and forcibly censored, by an extremely uptight MPAA, death scenes - and we're allowed to see them get truly intimate. These two don't bang, shake hands, and get back to work. They really seem to love each other. Anyway, long and short: this sequel is perhaps the smartest when it comes to character development. Taking it surprisingly seriously and having a shocking amount of resonance. People don't just say something stupid and have it evaporate into the air. It often comes back to haunt them. And, among fans, the women in this sequel are among the best liked characters in the franchise. I'm especially fond of Lauren-Marie Taylor's magnetic Vickie. She's paired up with one of the franchise's biggest tragic losses, Tom McBride, who died shortly after participating in a documentary about gay actors with AIDS in 1995. This sequel has a lot of sex on its' mind and likes to talk about it. Which would set a mostly unfortunate trend for the next few sequels since none of them measured up to this one.

Friday the 13th Part 3 (1982, directed by Steve Miner)

So, after Miner finished making the serious movie about - as Roger Ebert would later summarize it - young people with hopes and dreams being butchered, he then decided the next logical step was to make a sequel that was all about being visually impressive. Hence, we get this experiment in cinemascope and 3D, which is fairly void of any kind of serious storytelling yet, I think it benefits from for the most part getting right to the spooks and the deaths. Which are at their flashiest here as unsuspecting folks are split in half while performing handstands, shot in the eye with arrow guns, speared through windows and underneath hammocks. Eyes fly out of their sockets. Bodies crash through windows (beginning another series trademark) or are hung by the neck with pitchforks piercing their throats. Most of which have a 3D twist to them, and only recently in 2009 have home video audiences ever been able to see that. To me, as a kid not really knowing this was intended to be seen through red & blue tinted glasses, it just seemed cool and stylish. And so, this for the longest time remained one of my favorites in the series.

There's not all that much to say after that, really. The MPAA were always a big issue for the franchise and compared to the R-rated versions of the first 2 films, they were quite lenient on this one. There's gore EVERYWHERE. And it's marvelous. Which of course is another reason I think this is one of the more glorious sequels. Acting wise, it's a rough film. Writing wise, it's almost as bad. As insane as it was in Part 2 to just go with the prologue they planned and see Jason as a superhuman mongoloid, at least the fact that he survived his drowning - though playing havoc with logic and story continuity - had relevance to the characters existing and going to the camp. This one just shows Jason getting up and going on his merry way killing more people. Which is fine if you like me were never that fond of Part 2 (it took me a LONG time, but I'm really warming up to it now since the 2009 DVD was released), but it's pretty cheap. Then, even I have to admit this movie's Chris is a lousy final girl. Come to discover behind-the-scenes the actress Dana Kimmell was making a fuss out of the dialogue's even suggesting she'd ever slept with and not married Rick. For religious reasons.

There's even talk that she went on a crusade against the entire series in the years before she sat down in 2004 for the audio commentary. Other characters get the shorter end of the "sex, sex, sex" (as her character puts it in her debut scene) stick. Andy and Debbie (this movie's Jack and Marcie) are a couple of boneheads (although, if we're going to criticize the movie for it- was Halloween's Bob and Linda that much more developed or intelligent?) in every sense of the word. And then there's a mismatch so awkward, it's either hilarious or outright torture on the viewer- sexy latina Vera and plus-sized nerdy clown Shelley. To add to the fact they are terrible actors: she covers his mouth before he can say "maybe we could sleep together" out of pity, he calls her a bitch, and their relationship ends on a sad note when he whines about how all women think he's a nobody. Not exactly sensitive by this franchise's definition. However, this movie has what is likely the single best delivery of the long, complicated chase scene (resulting in that "5 different endings" kinda feel) and an amazingly suspenseful wind up into that chase. If thrills and chills are to any degree ever more important than storytelling to you, this sequel won't disappoint.

[No-Personality]

Friday the 13th (Part IV): The Final Chapter (1984, directed by Joe/Joseph Zito)

So, after a 2 year wait, it's obvious that this franchise had to make some changes in order to survive. Even though Paramount, director Zito, and writer Barney Cohen were sure this would be the final movie, it seems the very thing this team did to this sequel intending to kill the franchise is exactly what sparked interest with audiences to see it continue. As a matter of fact, there is shockingly little about this sequel that marries it with the previous 3 films. But instead of that making this film the one people remarked wasn't really for the fans, it's given it the reputation of being the ultimate Friday the 13th. Which is both fitting - given how it's the start of the franchise getting into silly, stupid, and outright masturbatory territory - and odd, given how many fans have about-faced (in the years where this franchise has amassed a powerful cult following) to consider this film the perfect end to the franchise. The franchise was about to lay a big egg with Part V: A New Beginning (which has since become painted as underrated by some fans, myself included). But what people fail to realize is that this sequel is the real turkey that flipped the franchise the bird.

The Final Chapter is one of the most aggressively obnoxious horror films I have ever seen in my entire life. Its' thematic obsession? Getting laid. It begins on an appropriately businesslike note with cops and docs on the massacre crime scene of Part 3, then wheels Jason's corpse into a hospital where the first dialogue exchange includes details of the sex morgue attendent Axel wishes he was having with one of the women's corpses. Is this a commentary on how shallow Debbie and Vera were as characters from Part 3? Hell no. It's a mood setter for this unbelievable sleazefest. And... WOW; turns out I care very little what kind of sex and who with makes guys like this tick. Then, we meet the object of his erection- a crabby nurse (no STD inference intended) with a headache who is such a bad actress, her and Axel begin a competition for who can be the campiest. If that's even the right word for what she's doing here. I resent her awful performance but, should I really hate the writing and give her a break? Either way, she's only there to be a "hot babe in a nurse's uniform" and given both how she adds nothing to the movie and how fucking nasty her death is- this entire scene is truly a lowpoint for the franchise.

Oh, and did I forget to mention the scene was punctuated with closeups on a television of buns and thighs on girls in early 80's exercise clothes bending over, bouncing left and right, etc? This movie is so dang sleazy, what passes for "relationships" here (which I'll explain in a sec) aren't enough- they have to insult the characters further by having their deaths come literally at the expense of watching too much "provocative" filmmaking. First- it's the exercise girls. Then, it's old naked B&W stag flicks of girls from the 10's or/and 20's bouncing up and down with swimming caps and umbrellas which leads the young, firm, drunk, and high teens to laugh at and mock them. One of the guys even calls them "pig"s. You're one to talk, jerk! Another, earlier, scene has this same guy mocking an overweight hitchhiker. And what a great character he is. His entire reason for being here is to mock his mopey best friend for being horny, then they meet 2 sexy twins- both of which show more interest in the friend than in him, he gets mad and throws a temper tantrum which results in him threatening to kill another guy at the party, and end up not getting laid while his best friend takes one of the twins upstairs.

Ya know, it's WAY before this point in the runnng time of the previous films where the writers / directors would have introduced an actual story with one of the characters through a traumatic event from their past or connecting them to Jason in a way that involves their intellect or tried to use character ignorance to visually give the audience a chill with one of those classic shots showing us something they don't see. Not this movie. This one is only interested in how much they can sleaze something up. Every last character in the movie is tainted by it. Even deaths aren't treated with any dignity. The overweight hitchhiker is knifed while eating a banana - obvious symbolism. An emotionally distraught girl is spiked right after calling for her boyfriend (thinking they're in love, meanwhile he's off flirting with another girl; though he gets his later = a harpoon in the crotch). And the movie introduces a mother to the movie's final girl - and, new to this series, a final boy - even though she's added to the bodycount for the express purpose of looking out at the partying teens and doing some kind of "I'm so sad I'm not young anymore" b.s.

The reason that irks me is because this movie is strictly and almost hatefully insensitive toward anyone it deems as weak, while using the insanely horny guys as entertainment. I don't believe for a second that they are meant to be shown as being as lame and undesirable as the female stereotypes placed on display. Screenwriter Cohen is no more than a self-satisfied putz who saw a franchise - still in its' infancy - he knew had sex on the brain and used it as his own personal wankfest of things he wanted to see onscreen. All of them downright depressingly, stiflingly covered in his own self-satisfaction (if you know what I mean). The film doesn't function in the slightest as a commentary nor is it even clever as a popcorn slasher flick. Its' single consistent strength, other than likability of a couple actresses (particularly, if not exclusively, Kimberly Beck as final girl Trish), is that Tom Savini returned to do gore FX here and really outdoes himself. Especially in the killing of Jason, which is probably the franchise's single most glorious moment of pure horror. Even if you knew all along Jason would be back, this movie was just so bad that even Jason couldn't redeem it. For that, it seems Jason had it coming.

Friday the 13th Part V: A New Beginning (1985, directed by Danny Steinmann)

I resent suggesting The Final Chapter was campy. Even for a second. There's clearly a difference between campy and shitty. Betsy Palmer's performance in the original film has gone on to be considered campy in many circles. And she was fun. But... can she hold a candle to A New Beginning's spittin', swearin', gun-totin', finger flippin', stew-cookin' backwoods-bertha known as Ethel? I- I- I- ... I don't think I'm prepared for a Hag-Off. Let's just say Ethel is a horror rarity. A downright force of nature. But to many, if not most fans historically, an eye & ear sore. Initially, the film flopped because neither Jason nor the series' new golden boy, Tommy, were the killer. So, audiences figured: what's the point of a new movie(?) and the next year flocked to the sixth installment, Jason Lives, making that film a more substantial cashcow for the series (and guaranteed there would be 2 more films produced by Paramount- regarded as the classiest studio in Hollywood for over 2 decades while everyone working in the building apparently hid their faces in embarrassment from their money-grubbing over this franchise).

But that was then and this is now. In the years since the film's release, Jason Lives has received its' fair share of fan rejection (mainly because it featured an unstoppable Jason - ha - being revived by supernatural means) considering it was in many ways a last of its' kind. But most definitely not unique (Night of the Creeps especially has many similarities). While Jason Lives retains many of its' older fans, A New Beginning has experienced a renaissance like few other films (especially sequels). While Troll 2 and Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 continue to be mocked (and rightly so), Friday the 13th Part V commands genuine respect these days. Thanks to, of all people, Anchor Bay's Michael Felsher (among others) who has gone on to host Friday the 13th panels at horror conventions. And as a matter of fact, I've always had an affection for the film myself, which is difficult to explain. It could be because the oppressively sleazy overtones wrapped around everything in the last film have been extinguished. There's still plenty of tight clothes and nude scenes and another unlikable perv guy (male nurse Billy). But overall, the film's attitude about sex is laidback and carefree. Which is frankly what keeps these films from being criticized for being conservative, anti-sex diatribes.

It's a fine line and A New Beginning just barely has a leg to stand on. But there's really no reason to take the film seriously. And as such, it delivers groan-worthy moments of bizarre dialogue spoken by mostly irritating characters (whom I grew to find charming after just a few rewatches - and remember, I've seen each of these 8 movies at least 20 times a piece - surprisingly solid acting from a majority of the cast makes this easy) and amusingly absurd ideas (the "script" is an utter mess) in equal measure. It's a fun movie. Impossible to describe. And that's a rarity in horror as well. What makes it such a unique movie is that tonally, it's played deadly-seriously. Which makes the filmmakers look like they don't know what they're doing. However, this film is far funnier than Jason Lives - that film's idea of a groundbreaking joke is: "does he think I'm a farthead(?)" - ever was. There are endless examples but, to be specific, the only way to lift the movie's wannabe psycho-thriller drama heaviness would be to insert a laugh track. Which wouldn't be that out of place during the Ethel and Junior interludes. Or the entire sequence of Pam, Reggie, and grown-up Tommy going to visit Reggie's leather biker getup-wearing older brother, nicknamed(?) Demon.

Perhaps in attempting to craft a psychologically dreamlike film with red herrings, neon lit night scenes with people sitting around- barely talking to each other, a truly confusing hospital finale that ends where the makers of the 4th film intended it to start (Joe Zito now admits the final shot of Part IV was a set-up for a new sequel), and setting itself in a mental rehabilitation farm for young, horny 20-somethings whereas the first 3 entries had opted for the more classic "this isn't real" approach with dissolves over trippy music, obscured closeups, and shots of an eerie moon blending together, director Steinmann created an unintentional masterpiece. It certainly has a lot of power- to make you throw up your hands at the start. You have little choice but to fall under its' spell of flatly shot epicness. Yes, it was shot with little visual flair and yet, I can't take my eyes off it. It did achieve a larger-than-life feeling with its' barn climax. In this sequel, it's the little things that matter. Everyone who watches it now walks away with a list of details they found to be amusing. And I'm willing to bet the filmmakers were unintentionally focusing on such irrelevant things.

But still, the fact that this film leaves you with so many funny questions is remarkable. Why exactly is there a guy doing a Clint Eastwood impersonation... in this film? Who the hell was the nurse with the red nails and why was she staring at Pam like she was pissed? Why was the old lady nurse nodding at Pam like that? Or, better yet (because I know someone has an explanation for that), why was she so creepy? Did Anita really have no idea what indigestion was? What was so wrong with Eddie and Tina that they needed to be isolated from the modern world? If Ethel never brushed her teeth - explaining the black buildup around the edges - why were the white parts not yellow or green? If Pam was polite enough to say "thank you" to Billy, why didn't she say anything or even look him in the eye when he said hello to her? Why did Pam lay on the ground and scream for 20 seconds before Reggie saved her from Jason instead of trying to stand up, crawl, run away, etc? (You'd be surprised, but there is absolutely no precedent for this anywhere previously in the franchise.) Who taught Reggie how to drive a tractor? Where the hell did Tommy - a complete nerd until he was locked away in an asylum - learn karate? And why did he go into a trance when he saw that Trailer Park sign? Why did Pam start humping Reggie - a pre-teen - after he saved her?

[No-Personality]

Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives (1986, directed by Tom McLoughlin)

For some strange reason, 80's horror fans were junkies for self-referential bits in their horror films. In the early 80's, this was still a new trend (The Howling, An American Werewolf in London). By 1986, it was getting plain silly. So much so that when Fred Dekker decided to do it in Night of the Creeps, he literally had characters with 3-word names just so he could pack as many as he could into dialogue where you'd naturally hear people tell you their names. I rolled my eyes at that. Jason Lives understands the subtlety needed to make this work only slightly better. In fact, the opening to this sequel is so rough in terms of tone of the humor and characterization - despite the use of humor inherent in the dialogue, none of the characters or the actors playing them are actually funny - name drops of Sean S. Cunningham and John Carpenter are highpoints. 20-something grown up Tommy returns for his 3rd film (played yet again by a dfferent actor) on a mission to destroy Jason's corpse so he can never come back, with goofy friend Alan Hawes in tow, when lightning strikes it and re-animates him back to life.

I never took issue with this choice by McLoughlin before because after the miserable Final Chapter and being mostly absent from New Beginning, Jason has fully redeemed himself as a character. Or, more accurately, the zombie-esque unstoppable killing machine. Who not only has his old stalking habit restored- it's enhanced brilliantly by the use of very lowkey jump scares. In one of the franchise's best moments, a counselor is talking a spooked little girl to sleep when the camera pulls up to reveal that Jason has been watching them the entire time. And we don't cut away, we follow him as he follows the counselor while she walks across the entire room and then... that's when he disappears. But as for that pesky resurrection, the problem is that it takes a person to do it. I may have mentioned somewhere above that this movie is not the greatest with characters. This time, we get a much welcomed break from sleazeballs (although I sensed that the movie should have explored the tension between final girl Megan and the slow-talker deputy, Rick) and instead, the film is overpopulated with goofballs.

Most fascinatingly, Thom Mathews as Tommy has the most bizarre relationship dynamics than anyone else in the series. He completely ignores his friend Hawes, won't even look him in the eye, except to ask him to help him dig, hand him a crowbar, and - finally, when it's too late - to shout at the site of his being murdered like they actually had a friendship. No discussion of exactly why Tommy can't make eye contact with his friend even though Hawes looks outright shocked at Tommy's behavior. So, this is likely a communication problem between the actors. And Hawes is a goofball. This starts a trend: Tommy attracts goofballs who cling to him (later he meets Megan and she does all the work creating a "romantic" bond between them - Tommy is clearly a workaholic icehole, not convincing boyfriend material) but seeks out a relationship with the police force who push him away (this is after a meet-and-greet with the Sheriff where the distraught Tommy cries emergency only to have the Sheriff go off on a tangent about show-business and bestiality). No, he doesn't just call the Sheriff. There's a downright obsessive chase where Tommy leads him the scene of Hawes' murder resulting in the Sheriff threatening to cut off Tommy's balls and make him wear them as earrings.

So, the humor isn't funny (really, it's not) and the drama is laughable. The acting is pretty darn bad and the characters are not on the same page. All this would certainly make this film one of the weaker of the franchise... However, New Beginning completely changed the rules. Now a sequel could basically succeed if it excelled in one area the previous films hadn't. This film's strength, well- other than highly eccentric and disturbing deaths (especially the mostly offscreen bloody room scene), is that it is surprisingly tense and scary this time. Despite having Harry Manfredini's silliest score of the series, Jason is downright terrifying throughout. Well, except for one scene which features the director's wife trying to bribe him with cash and credit cards. Yes, you heard that right. Even though it's always been iconic of the series to feature storms and rain, the scarier films in my opinion stage the bulk of the stalking and chasing with wind as the major mood setter. This one also adds a touch of wafting fog during the motorhome sequence. As if all of this weren't spooky enough, Alice Cooper adds to the legend themed mystique of Jason Voorhees by penning the chilling "He's Back (The Man Behind the Mask)" specially for this sequel.

Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood (1988, directed by John Carl Buechler)

Although Jason Lives marked the beginning of what most fans consider the "zombie" era of Jason (yes: surviving a drowning, a chainsaw to the torso, knives through his arm and leg, a machete blade slash to the chest and another deeply embedded into his shoulder, an axe to the face, a brutal hanging, repeated blows to the head, having his hand split in half, and his head literally opened up wide after nearly being scalped - all over the course of about 3 days no less - is not zombielike in the least), it was a means to an end as well. Initially, the sequel's humorous tone went over well with audiences but the next director on the slate (Troll's John Buechler, also a master of special effects who worked on several cult horror films in the 80's and 90's- most notably Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator and From Beyond) decided it was time for a more somber and serious film. Apparently, he was even something of a fan of The Final Chapter and both sequels share some surprising similarities. One being a stock shot from the film of Rob's tent in the rain (you'll note that it doesn't rain at any time during The New Blood). Two being the "dress" that Trish wore (it's actually a man's XL shirt with a belt wrapped around her waistline) which looks identical to the one Maddy wears here. Three being a death scene - also identical to one in Final Chapter - which was reshot at the actual house where Final Chapter was filmed.

As much fun as I've always had with this sequel, it's worth noting that it's actually a very unpleasent film. There are no sunny days (even though the Melissa and Sandra characters are shown sitting on lawnchairs in their bikinis). All the trees are dead, the skies are overcast. Pieces of Harry Manfredini's previous scores are recycled but they share half the film with new compositions by Fred Mollin that are stiff and extremely mechanical. There are moments where this works - usually the sweeter, softer, string-oriented bits - but more when it doesn't - namely the more "ominous" and "dark" moments which border on silly a good percentage of the time. Similar to Final Chapter, characters have a party, get high, partner off, etc(.) but are - as a group - getting very little enjoyment out of it. Minor dramas sprout up here and there between couples but most of them are resolved just before Jason bumps them off. Although nobody is very happy, you have to give credit to the film for like Jason Lives before it not drowning itself in nasty sleazeball stereotypes (by this point in horror, we had seen 'em all anyway). This time, as in Jason Lives, the cheapest person in the group is a girl (ironically, Susan Jennifer Sullivan's rich bitch on wheels Melissa who is made a pettier reincarnation of Tina - yet another borrow - from The Final Chapter).

A great deal of the New Blood was also, I believe I've heard, filmed on a set. That one of the houses in the film was surrounded mostly by water, so they had to build a section of land which looks a lot like the burnt rock shavings that formed the soil of the Micmac indian burial grounds in Paramount's Pet Sematary. One scene in Jason Lives took place in what looked like a burnt out forest but everything in The New Blood looks either dead or as though it cost 10 cents to build. Especially doors. Which barely fit the door frames. Buechler mentions in a commentary that the film's crew built one of the houses; lemme guess- the one with the green doors? Anyway, then there's the matter of the drama final girl Tina goes through (I think that officially makes 3 or 4 different Tina characters in the franchise now). The business of the writer(s) giving her telekinetic powers has led almost everyone to compare the film to Carrie, which of course completely dwarfs New Blood. But soap star Lar Park Lincoln gives the part her all and is easy to like. Which is all that matters here. This sequel may be very mopey and downbeat but, especially in its' extremely neutered theatrical-version form which nearly removes every last drop of blood from the film's ultra gory original cut, it's entirely harmless. Is it scary? Ehhhh....

Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan (1989, directed by Rob Hedden)

Tonally, Jason Takes Manhattan is a perfect followup to the gloomy New Blood. But storywise, it takes an extremely fresh new approach by choosing to emerse itself entirely in the "legend of Jason Voorhees" mythos which was brought up in the previous 2 sequels once or twice. This time, the only characters who know of him don't know who he is but instead have either heard rumors about the previous batch of killings (and, really, when you consider that there is a span of 5 years between the first two storylines plus Tommy Jarvis aging something like 9 and 12 years between parts IV and VI- it's easy to imagine how a new batch of horned-up teen characters from the area could forget about Jason or their parents try to wipe out any talk of him locally) or just saw a little boy at the bottom of the lake trying to pull them under. As the film starts, the entire original story of the franchise is retold through rumors one of the first victims has overheard. Normally, I have a very big problem with sequels trying to re-enact scenes from the previous films but Manhattan is trying to show us how young people might envision Jason if they were being told about him for the first time. The film's heady dips into fantasy do get a little too Nightmare on Elm Street at times, but considering how inferior the last two 80's-made sequels in that franchise were, I don't see why anyone should take issue with Friday the 13th going down this route.

In fact, it's somewhat arguable that director Rob Hedden had even seen any of the previous Friday the 13th films. His qualification for being able to sit in the director's chair here was being involved with the Canadian anthology TV series of the same name. Part of his enthusiasm for writing and directing this entry was that he had gotten along very well with the producers of the series, one of which was Barbara Sachs who famously made The New Blood hell for director John Buechler when she forced him to cut scenes he wanted in, put in scenes he didn't think made any sense, and even complained about the demonic looking ghoulish version of unmasked-Jason. This last judgment on her part might have worked to that film's advantage, though, since originally Buechler didn't want Jason to even wear a mask. Most of Hedden's ideas are very good and as a director, he knows how to make this movie look great (in my opinion- I'm well aware a lot of people think the ship interior scenes look crappy and cheap; but were they paying any attention to the mood they lent the film?) and how to get surprisingly decent performances from this cast of unknowns (a lot of whom are Canadian and several of which have had very successful careers there- let alone that Kelly Hu later became a big star in the U.S.).

Even if things do get a little John Hughes / Saved by the Bell-esque, the actors treat their roles with a lot of integrity and seriousness. From Peter Mark Richman's creepy Uncle Charles to Martin Cummins' nerdy lovelorn aspiring filmmaker Wayne to Sharlene Martin's slutty cokehead Tamara. For once, these stereotypes feel more like... well, top notch stereotypes. But with a little more effort, most of these actors could have felt like real people. Hedden actually cared about a lot of these characters. Which is why it's more important with a film like this to make their deaths have some weight to them. What they lack in graphic violence and bloodshed (there's almost nothing in this department you didn't see that hit the cutting room floor), Hedden makes up for in intensity. Apparently, another thing fans weren't crazy about was the ultra-grave tone of the deaths. This is a rare occasion when Fred Mollin's dank music (none of which is padded this time with pieces from Manfredini's scores) adds a lot. Characters are more terrified as they run and try to hide, they scream with more feeling, beg for their lives, and cry out in desperation. It's not exactly fun to watch but this is what horror is supposed to be all about. And does set this sequel apart from the rest of the pack. Jason Takes Manhattan may get the least amount of fan love, but in my eyes it's easily the best film in the franchise.

[Avaitor]

I saw the frist Friday the 13th a little whiles ago and didn't really care for it. Would I prefer the 8th if I gave it a chance?

Also, it was an interesting choice to see you rank an entire series in a slot. Is this the last time we're going to see you do this?