Halloween Diversions II

First of all, some news from the Burkina front: I've finally started school (which is going well so far), and I shaved my beard. It's so freaking hot here that I just couldn't take it anymore. But now my face is slick and smooth. What a feeling!

Okay, now on to the good stuff. I have another list for you all, as part of my Halloween Diversions series. Get your Netflix ready, because I'm about to spout off

THE TOP TEN HORROR FILMS THAT AREN'T HALLOWEEN, FRIDAY THE 13TH, THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, AND THE EXORCIST THAT YOU SHOULD WATCH THIS HALLOWEEN!

Like every year, you're likely to find lots of horror fare on TV this Halloween season. Unfortunately, the films that get airtime rarely veer outside of the mainstream, meaning we get the original Halloween on repeat, Friday the 13th marathons, and Night of the Living Dead right after Trading Spaces. Don't get me wrong: I absolutely LOVE all of these major horror hits. However, it's always nice to diversify and expand your palette. Below are some unconventional horror favorites of mine that I recommend watching as we head towards October 31.

10. Peeping Tom (Dir. Michael Powell, 1960)
Michael Powell's masterful analysis of objectification and psychological frenzy is truly a deluxe thriller. Perhaps the most unsettling thing about Peeping Tom is that central character Mark actually isn't a bad guy. He isn't inherently evil—he is simply a man that has become so consumed by his predilections and cerebral trauma that there's no turning back. Karlheinz Böhm (credited as Carl Boehm) gives a chilling and understated performance in this role. The actor portrays Mark as a stammering, nervous, awkward, and insecure fellow in the vein of Anthony Perkins' Norman Bates. He doesn't trust himself any more than we trust him. Because Mark is a fully-developed human being rather than a knife-wielding caricature, we become sympathetic towards him, to the extent that we are almost complicit in his murderous affairs—certainly a disturbing experience with which audiences in 1960 likely didn't know how to cope. Böhm is supported by a game cast, including the winsome Anna Massey as the doe-eyed heroine and Maxine Audley as her mother (in a particularly eerie and poignant turn). The action is livened up by sumptuous cinematography and lighting design, which impart portentous feelings of dread and mystique. Sadly, Peeping Tom is also known for destroying the career of director Powell, who simply made the right movie at the wrong time. Imagine the penury that Alfred Hitchcock would have faced if Psycho were filmed in color!

9. Hell Night (Dir. Tom DeSimone, 1981)
Linda Blair, in all her schlocky ‘80s glory (complete with a period costume), trapped in a scary old mansion overnight with a deformed, insane killer; in other words, what are you waiting for? Hell Night is essential slasher viewing, straight out of the banner year of 1981. It’s cheap, brazen, and quick, but it also boasts tremendous atmosphere and mounting suspense and is, therefore, quite a fun ride. Hell Night also features one of the most convincing, yet surprisingly neat, decapitation effects I’ve ever seen—it’s all in the economy of the editing.

8. The House on Sorority Row (Dir. Mark Rosman, 1983)
The sorority prank gone awry is by far my favorite slasher film plot device (see Hell Night), and it’s handled here with tremendous gumption and an eye for subtle filmmaking—a rarity in 1983 slasher cinema, when the subgenre started to go full-tilt with boobs and cheddary gore galore. It’s not as firm and crisp as it could be, but it’s cleanly presented, and the story is effervescently told. There are excellent performances throughout the fresh young female cast—particularly from congenial lead Kathryn MacNeil and Eileen Davidson as mega-bitch Vicki (possibly the single greatest ideation of this slasher film trope).

7. Let’s Scare Jessica To Death (Dir. John D. Hancock, 1971)
Let's Scare Jessica to Death is a leading exemplar of understated, low-budget 1970s horror. Gritty, brooding, atmospheric, and cerebral, the film's true assets are its earnest performances, isolated farmhouse location, and unsettling, eclectic score composed by Orville Stoeber. It’s a triumph of its era. The film succeeds for the same reason Stanley Kubrick's The Shining succeeds: it uproots the viewer's sense of a conventional narrative. By forcing us to see things through the eyes of the disturbed Jessica (played fantastically by sweet-faced Zohra Lampert with just the right amount of poignancy and tragic mental instability), we aren't given an objective viewpoint. Thus, security is thrown out the window and a general uneasiness runs rampant throughout. The rug is all but completely pulled out from under us by the time the credits roll. Are the things we see through Jessica's perspective even happening at all? Let's Scare Jessica to Death is likely too ponderous and subtle for today's horror audiences. It substitutes action and gore with style and mood. However, the film is a must-see for anyone with an interest in '70s film, and indeed with an interest in '70s history in general. Like the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre, the principle characters in Let's Scare Jessica to Death are disillusioned hippies overcome by the horrors of rural America—the decline of the "love generation."

6. The Exorcist III (Dir. William Peter Blatty, 1990)
Though it plays more like a crime thriller with a supernatural pretext, The Exorcist III still packs in some hardcore horror heraldry to elevate it to the same league as the terrifying and spellbinding 1973 original. Decapitated statues of Christ, old ladies crawling across ceilings, and a yellow-eyed Jason Miller are just some of the terrifying imagery found in this haunted house of a battle between faith and reason. There are terrific, if at times overexerted, performances abound, notably from the venerable George C. Scott, who takes over the role of Lieutenant Kinderman (played by Lee J. Cobb in the original film), and does a fine job exuding brooding frustration, cosmic awe, and even a bit of humor. And, no, you don’t need to see the incoherent Exorcist II: The Heretic (which is psychotronically terrible in the best possible way) to appreciate this third entry.

5. Dressed to Kill (Dir. Brian De Palma, 1980)
Masterful and resplendently stylish terror from Brian De Palma. Dressed to Kill is one of the best-shot films I've ever seen; rarely do you see such impeccable cinematography outside of a Hitchcock film. The fastidiously-planned scenes sustain the horror and suspense brilliantly. Along with De Palma's flawless direction, you'll find terrific performances from the cast, especially Angie Dickinson as the insatiable Kate Miller, Nancy Allen as a feisty and quirky prostitute, and Keith Gordon as Dickinson's resourceful son (Michael Caine is great, as always). As a seasoned horror fan, this type of film rarely shocks me outright. However, there are several moments in Dressed to Kill (such as the virtuousically-filmed art museum and subway sequences) that made my jaw drop. Indeed, surprises are integral to this film, and you'll likely find your mouth agape several times as you view it. Trust me: you'll be hard-pressed to find a thriller more gripping and tense than this. And, with its deliriously nail-biting conclusion, Dressed to Kill is De Palma's zenith as a horror auteur.

4. Carnival of Souls (Dir. Herk Harvey, 1962)
Skip M. Night Shyamalan’s self-indulgent, overstylized, and overrated The Sixth Sense and head straight to the source material with Carnival of Souls. The film is a hallucinatory romp through the afterlife that, much like the original Night of the Living Dead, owes a lot of its spooky factor to its low-budget, bald-faced camerawork. Buoyed tremendously by a vibrant but frigid organ score by Gene Moore and a distant, ethereal, and quirkily nuanced performance by lead Candace Hilligoss—you don’t see acting like this in films these days unless it’s bogged down by a postmodern, self-referential conceit. Easy viewing tip: Carnival of Souls is in the public domain, which means you can download it for free (and legally) all over the internet.

3. Deep Red (Dir. Dario Argento, 1975)
Easily Dario Argento’s greatest giallo in terms of depth, style, and sophistication, and undoubtedly one of the best entries in the entire subgenre. Meticulously constructed in every aspect, Deep Red is an essential study in cinematography, with flair by the boatload. While I find the killer's identity to be somewhat unsatisfying, this minor complaint is superseded by the film's many iconic images of horror, unforgettable murder sequences, and strong performances from leads David Hemmings and Daria Nicolodi. Forget about the shabby dubbing.

2. Black Christmas (Dir. Bob Clark, 1974)
Is it un-chic to watch a Christmas movie outside of the Christmas season? Not when it’s a dark, well-acted, and superbly crafted shocker like Black Christmas. Bolstered by taut and atmospheric direction from the late Bob Clark (better known for his other Yuletide classic, A Christmas Story) and terrific performances from lead Olivia Hussey (who was good enough for the titular female role in Franco Zeffirelli’s masterful 1968 take on Romeo and Juliet) and a supporting cast of feisty character actors—most notably 1970s favorite Margot Kidder as foul-mouthed, drunken sorority sister Barb. WARNING: Never confuse the original 1974 version with the aggressively awful 2006 remake.

1. Alice, Sweet Alice (Dir. Alfred Sole, 1976)
One of my favorite films of all time. Alice, Sweet Alice is a well-acted, first-rate mystery thriller with gobs of atmosphere, creepy shots, and a superb cast. Paula Sheppard turns in a particularly good performance as the unbalanced Alice who is implicated in the brutal murder of her sister (played by a young Brooke Shields). The stunning Linda Miller is also fantastic as Alice's desperate mother, pulling off the scenes where she is required to be frantic with tremendous aplomb. These two strong female leads are supported by some wonderfully eccentric character actors, including Alphonso DeNoble as the morbidly obese, opera-listening, and paedophilic Mr. Alfonso and Jane Lowry as Alice's batty and domineering aunt Annie. Filming took place in Paterson, New Jersey, whose working-class atmosphere serves the story well. The ratty old abandoned warehouses, the gritty brick walls, and the deceivingly benign appearance of the down-home Neo-Gothic church are perfect. The script is intelligent and pensive enough to actually keep you guessing as to who the killer is. And the proceedings are buoyed by several tense sequences and such nice stylistic touches as the killer's yellow-rain-slicker-and-translucent-mask get-up. The film has an underlying theme of lost innocence, which it addresses both poignantly and eerily throughout. There is also, of course, the theme of Catholic morality and justice, which rears its ugly head before all is said and done.

Honorable Mention: Just Before Dawn (Dir. Jeff Lieberman, 1981)
Yes, it’s a standard killer-in-the-woods slasherfest, hot on the heels of the success of Friday the 13th, but Just Before Dawn is easily one of the better imitations. Assured pacing, arresting visuals, and some chilling sound design (that periodic whistling in the distance!) make this a cut above the rest. Director Jeff Lieberman pushes his location—the gorgeous Oregon wilderness—to its fullest potential, giving a truly backwoods, isolated feel. Things are spiced up periodically by a gloomy, unimposing electronic score by Brad Fiedel, who would go on to do the soundtracks for the first two Terminator films. Also, as I can recall, this is one of the few slasher films wherein the killer uses a serrated blade. Ouchies!