A Christmas Carol (1984)

A Christmas Carol (Dir: Clive Donner, 1984).

Be they traditional retellings or radical reworkings, new adaptations of Charles Dickens’ ever popular 1843 novella are as common as a cock’er’ny street urchin. Less numerous, but still pretty plentiful, were they back in December 1984 when this prestigious US/UK coproduction premiered on CBS prime time, while simultaneously released to cinemas internationally. 

George C Scott here stars as the original grinch, who is persuaded to change his ways after overindulging in Christmas spirits. 

With its story familiar to virtually every living soul, it can be difficult for any new telling to distinguish itself from the all the others. Let’s be honest, no other version can top the masterpiece Scrooge (Brian Desmond Hurst, 1951) with its magnificent central performance from Alastair Sim as, arguably, the definitive Ebenezer. Yet George C Scott makes the character his own, at least for the duration of the movie. 

An interpretation of Scrooge that is somewhat softened; Scott’s portrayal is more disillusioned businessman than the gleeful miser of other adaptations. While this does mean Scott is not one of the screens more powerful Scrooges, it does add a little more shade to a character who can easily become one dimensional in the hands of a lesser actor. 

In a supporting cast peppered with faces familiar from 80s television, the standout, for me, is Edward Woodward. Soon to be seen in popular TV drama The Equaliser (1985- 89), Woodward is cast against type as the Ghost of Christmas Present. With the requisite mix of jollity and foreboding, his success in the part makes you wish he had stepped out of his action comfort zone a little more often. 

A nice moody atmosphere permeates A Christmas Carol. Its impressive production values offer few indications of the movie’s made for TV origins. While it may not rank among the very best versions of the story, it is still a decent movie, well worth including in any annual Scrooge-athon. 

A Christmas Carol (1938)

A Christmas Carol (Dir: Edwin L Marin, 1938).

Produced by MGM at the height of Hollywood’s golden age, A Christmas Carol is a lively, albeit scrubbed up, adaptation of Charles Dickens ever popular 1843 novella. The familiar story is more or less faithful to Dickens' text, as miserly old Ebenezer Scrooge accepts a ghostly hand in relocating his Christmas spirit, much to the relief of his put-upon employee Bob Cratchit, as well as the half of London who are indebted to him.  

Encouraged by the success of David Copperfield (George Cukor, 1935) MGM embarked on this Dickens adaptation, originally intended as a vehicle for character star Lionel Barrymore. Due to sickness, Barrymore had to pull out and was replaced by Reginald Owen, a lesser known but accomplished performer, now best remembered for his role as Admiral Boom in Mary Poppins (Robert Stevenson, 1964). It does seem a bit of a missed opportunity for Barrymore, who would have made an excellent Scrooge. He would later play Christmas curmudgeon Potter in his most famous movie It’s a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946), giving a glimpse of what he may have brought to the role. But don't be too disappointed, as Owen makes for a wonderfully charismatic Scrooge, in what is arguably one of the standout readings of the character. 

An impressive supporting cast were assembled to bring the characters off of the page and into the movie theatre. Notably the great character actor Leo G Carroll as an eerie Marley's Ghost and an appealingly goofy turn from Barry Mackay as Nephew Fred. Gene Lockhart looks a little too well fed but brings an immense likability to his role as Bob Cratchit while Terry Kilburn is a suitably winsome Tiny Tim. A standout for all the wrong reasons is John O'Day as elder Cratchit son Peter whose broad American accent is jarring to say the least! 

The default movie version of the tale until surpassed by British production Scrooge (Brian Desmond Hurst, 1951), this particular Christmas Carol omits all the darker aspects of the story in favour of family friendly festive frivolity. Boasting lavish production values, the characters here seem to have experienced little of the poverty described in the original text in an altogether rather jolly affair which is decidedly more Hollywood than Dickens. While it may seem odd to scrub the story of its more sombre moments, it is worth remembering the state of events when the movie was released; with the US only just beginning to pull itself out of The Great Depression and the prospect of World War II imminent, audiences were looking to the movies for escapism, and A Christmas Carol offers this abundance.

A slightly antiseptic take on the story it may be, but it is warmhearted, festive and highly entertaining. If you watch one Christmas Carol this year, make it the masterful 1951 adaptation Scrooge, with Alastair Sim's definitive take on the character. But if, like me, you head into four or five plus territory, then this good-natured version is well worth seeking out. 

All the Money in the World (2017)

All the Money in the World (Dir: Ridley Scott, 2017). 

Based on events which shocked the world back in 1973, All the Money in the World relates the story of Pablo Getty (Charlie Plummer), 16 year old grandson of billionaire oil baron J Paul Getty (Christopher Plummer) who was kidnapped and ransomed for $17,000,000. Pablo’s mother and estranged daughter-in-law of Getty, Gail (Michelle Williams) cannot pay the fee and appeals to Getty Snr. Though a pittance to a man of his standing, Getty refuses to put up the money; instead hiring ex-Fed Fletcher Chance (Mark Wahlberg) to investigate the abduction. 

Best known for big budget sci fi and widescreen epics such as Blade Runner (R Scott, 1982) and Gladiator (R Scott, 2000), Ridley Scott may seem an odd choice to direct the true story of a kidnapping. But Scott proves his versatility in an impressively mounted, sometimes morbidly gripping thriller. Eliciting strong performances from a talented cast, particularly that of Christopher Plummer as Getty Snr. 

As was widely reported at the time, disgraced star Kevin Spacey was originally cast in the role of J Paul Getty. Dropped from the movie less than a month before its scheduled premiere, the part was recast with Plummer and all scenes involving the character were hastily reshot. A performer who I feel improves with age, Plummer is excellent in the role. As the hardened business man he exhibits a callous coolness while remaining sympathetic in his portrayal. He was deservedly lauded for the performance and, in all honesty, it is hard to imagine Spacey would have been any better. It is credit to Plummer, Scott and all involved that the newer scenes integrate seamlessly with the old. Indeed, if you didn’t know you would never notice. The rest of the cast also prove highly capable in their roles; Whalberg gives one of his most charismatic performances as Chance, while Michelle Williams gives a sensitive portrayal of a distraught and exasperated mother.  Also noteworthy are Charlie Plummer as the captive and Romain Duris as a sympathetic gaoler, in movie replete with powerful performances. 

All the Money in the World tells a grim story but a worthy and engrossing one. Unflinching in depiction of the tortures Pablo endured, it is not always an easy watch but it is a very rewarding one. 

The Giant Behemoth aka Behemoth the Sea Monster (1959)

The Giant Behemoth aka Behemoth the Sea Monster (Dir: Eugène Lourié, 1959)

Taking inspiration from The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (Eugène Lourié, 1953) and Godzilla (Ishiro Honda, 1954), The Giant Behemoth (released in edited form in the UK as Behemoth the Sea Monster) is 1950s monster movie mayhem on a minuscule budget.  

In a classic 'when atomic testing turns bad' scenario, a pre-historic Palaeosaurus comes ashore on the Cornish coast, threatening the lives of marine life and crusty old fishermen. Not content with terrorising townsfolk in the West Country, the rampaging radioactive reptile heads to London. What is a bored behemoth to do in the big city but riot? If only the meddling military don't stand in his way... 

It would be easy to dismiss this, admittedly schlocky, sci-fi as just another second feature monster flick with second rate special effects, but to do so would be doing The Giant Behemoth something of a disservice.

Granted, its plot is a bit of a potboiler, already over familiar by the late 1950s. Regardless of which, a great deal of pseudo science is employed to explain the onscreen events, resulting in a rather talky first half. Surprisingly, it doesn’t have too much of a detrimental effect on the pacing. Padding it may be, the 'science part' doesn't detract too much from the tension building and the movie is actually rather well paced, in spite of obvious exposition; although I am sure most audience members are just eager to see the monster create chaos in the capital.

Already a noted art director, Eugène Lourié  made his directorial debut with the influential sci-fi classic The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, often regarded as the movie which started the monster fad of the 50s. The Giant Behemoth sees him in similar creature feature territory. While the former was a low budget affair, its superior stop motion animation by effects genius Ray Harryhausen would lend the film a polish that belies its budgetary restraints.  ...Behemoth, too, utilises stop motion animation, but with less satisfying results. Harryhausen's mentor Willis O’Brien was the uncredited special effects designer and creator, although his work here is a considerable step down from his contribution to the staggering effects in King Kong (Merian C Cooper & Ernest B Schoedsack). In actuality the stop motion animation is decent here, especially when seen in wider shots. However, this is greatly undermined by some wretched close-ups of a clearly static puppet. We see the same cars trashed and the same extras attacked time and again, diminishing the otherwise sterling model work. 

For what it's worth Lourié makes the best of the meagre ingredients and delivers a well paced, enjoyable B picture. He would direct four features in total, all in a similar pulp sci-fi vein. While each movie has its merits, all but The Beast... are hampered by tiny budgets. The Giant Behemoth is no monster masterpiece but it is a worthy edition to the creature feature genre. Rough and ready, certainly,  but with an undeniable cut price charm.  

Scrooge (1935)

Scrooge (Dir: Henry Edwards, 1935).

This early British 'talkie' stars Sir Seymour Hicks stars as Ebenezer Scrooge, the yuletide loathing rotter who finds redemption when visiting spirits show him the error of his ways, much to the gratification of his overworked, under payed employee Bob Cratchit (Donald Calthrop). 

Distinguished as the first feature length sound version of Charles Dickens' oft filmed novella, time has not been particularly kind to this adaptation of A Christmas Carol. Granted, it is 85 years old, but considering it is merely two years older then Walt Disney's perennial Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (David Hand, 1937), and two years younger than the innovative King Kong (Merian C Cooper & Ernest B Schoedsack, 1933), this movie seems like a product of a completely different age. 

Print deterioration undoubtedly accentuates the antiquated feel. Long in the public domain and evidently edited over the years, the version I viewed also appears to be missing a reel; the expected sequence in which the Ghost of Christmas Past escorts Scrooge back in time to his youth is completely absent. Rather the scene begins, abruptly, with the breakdown of Scrooge's engagement to Belle and is over with in minutes.  Good luck finding a more complete copy, as my attempts to find one have proved futile. 

Having played Scrooge both on stage and in the silent film Old Scrooge (Leedham Bantock, 1913), Seymour Hicks is suitably curmudgeonly as the old miser. Other performers fare less well in a movie which, perhaps due to missing footage, seems a little light on character development. Scenes showing the disparate differences between rich and poor, while commendable, feel a little like filler in such a short movie. The undoubted highlight are the scenes featuring the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. The shadowy sequence displays influences of German Expressionist film and features some genuinely inventive visuals. 

Over familiarity is always an issue when watching any movie adaptation of such a well known story, but all considered, this Scrooge is an entertaining and worthy addition to ever increasing Christmas Carol canon. The movie was eventually overshadowed by MGM's more lavish A Christmas Carol (Edwin L Marin, 1938); a movie which was itself surpassed by the British production Scrooge (Brian Desmond Hurst, 1951).With an excellent central performance form Alastair Sim, that particular adaptation is rightly considered the definitive version by many. 

Its copyright status means Scrooge is easy to source on many streaming platforms, in original black and white as well as dodgy digital colour. It will probably be of interest most to Christmas Carol completists, but is recommended viewing to anyone seeking alternative festive entertainment.  

Devil Girl from Mars (1954)

Devil Girl from Mars (Dir: David McDonald, 1954). 

With Martian men on the verge of extinction, Nyah (Patricia Laffan), a PVC clad dominatrix who bears a passing resemblance to a young Agnes Moorehead, is dispatched to London to collect male specimens for the purpose of repopulating the planet. Think Mars Needs Women (Larry Buchanan, 1968) with a gender reversal and you have the idea. Accompanied by a robot seemingly made from odds and ends found in a garden shed, the would-be seductress with the voice of a British Rail announcer goes off course and crash lands in the Scottish Highlands. Here she invades the remote Bonnie Charlie Inn; the residents of which are a motley bunch including an escaped murder and his girl, an aspiring model, a scientist, an investigative journalist and a sturdy Scots landlady. The men of the Inn aren't up to spec so Nyah must repair her craft and continue on her mission. But those pesky Earthlings have other ideas and are intent on stopping her. You can bet they are sorry when she unleashes a powerful raygun and her giant flowerpot 'bot on them! 

Not as kinky as it sounds, Devil Girl from Mars is a family friendly second feature. If your family likes obscure sci fi with wobbly visual effects that is. With stock characters and predictable plotting, the screenplay is just as bad as the 'special' effects. Some choice dialogue includes a nonchalant: "Mrs Jamieson, may I introduce you to your latest guest, Miss Nyah. She comes from Mars". Possibly my favourite line is the exclaimation of one character, mid-invasion: “Nothing like this has happened to me before!” In fairness, the cast make the best of the woeful script. Hugh McDermott and John Laurie are the most recognisable faces in a cast awash with actors you have seen before but cannot quite remember where. 

Director David McDonald spent the previous two decades in low budget second features. So prolific was his career in the quickies that he could have directed Devil Girl from Mars in his sleep. On the evidence of the finished film he may well have. 

Let’s be brutally honest: Devil Girl from Mars is a load of old tripe. Yet it is oddly compelling, entertaining old tripe. Campy and cringy in equal measure while at the same time oddly twee, it is sci fi schlock of the highest - or should that be lowest? - order. If low budget, lowbrow Brit B movies are your thing you could do worse than check it out. 

The Dark Past (1948)

The Dark Past (Dir: Rudolph Maté, 1948). 

Based upon a play by James Warwick, The Dark Past was filmed previously by Columbia Pictures as Blind Alley (Charles Vidor, 1939). A decade later the same studio resurrected the story for this prime slice of second feature film noir. 

The Dark Past is one of a number of films of its era to deal with the psychology of the criminal mind, the most notable of which was Spellbound (Alfred Hitchcock, 1945). It was shot in the then groundbreaking pseudo documentary style utilised in such movies as Boomerang! (Elia Kazan, 1947) and The Naked City (Jules Dassin, 1948). 

The directorial debut of the talented Rudolph Maté and featuring a now legendary cast, The Dark Past was considered a B-picture; suggested by a short runtime and small scale approach which employs few outdoor shots and feels a little stagy. It does however, feature two powerhouse performances from its leads William Holden and Lee J Cobb.  

Told in flashback and narrated by Cobb as criminal psychiatrist Dr Andrew Collins, Collins relates how he and his family were held hostage by escaped convict Al Walker (Holden). With the help of Walker's girl Betty (Nina Foch), the good doc attempts to uncover Walker's unconscious motivation to kill, a disorder linked to a recurring nightmare following childhood truma. 

The flashback device works somewhat against the narrative, as the audience know the Cobb character survives, thereby robbing the movie of much of its impact. The thrills here are largely generated from the superlative performances, particularly from top billed William Holden whose transformation from coldblooded killer to existential psychoneurotic proved a major dramatic breakthrough for the star. 

Having shot to fame in boxing drama Golden Boy (Rouben Mamoulian, 1939), in the following decade Holden's natural acting talent was largely unexploited. Cast in a series of amiable, if somewhat anemic, nice guy roles, The Dark Past proved to be his most significant performance since his debut. Holden clearly relished the opportunity to play against type and delivers a barnstorming performance; anticipating acclaimed performances in weightier roles such as Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950) and Stalag 17 (Billy Wilder, 1953). 

Cobb too, mostly associated with a fantastic run of on screen heavies, is here cast against type as the good guy. In a less showy role than Holden's he is entirely convincing as the stoic shrink who slowly succeeds in rooting out the cause of Walker's maladies. A sympathetic performance from Nina Foch as the killer's concerned moll completes the impressive star triumvirate. 

While much of the psycho-analysis in The Dark Past is bunk, the movie is excitingly staged by Maté and performed with such professionalism that it matters not. Small scale it may be, but this tense and compelling film noir offers terrific entertainment. Increasingly hard to find in recent years, to my knowledge the only official DVD release is of Spanish origin (titled Cerco de Odio). However, fans of the era crime dramas would do well to seek out this minor classic.

The Colossus of New York (1958)

The Colossus of New York (Dir: Eugène Lourié, 1958). 

Low budget sci fi shocker of the ‘good scientist gone bad’ variety, from Paramount Pictures. 

With story aspects and visuals borrowed liberally from the likes of Der Golem (Paul Wegener & Carl Boese, 1920) and Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931) The Colossus of New York tells of acclaimed scientist Dr Jerry Spensser (Ross Martin); cut down in his prime on the eve of collecting an International Peace Prize. After relieving the dead body of its brain, his surgeon father (Otto Kruger) and automation expert brother (John Baragrey) promptly insert the cranium into that of a 8 foot metal man and, with some incredible shortsightedness, inexplicably fit the robot with death ray laser eyes! Lamenting the lack of a soul and understandably upset at his brother's romancing of his widow (Mala Powers), Dr Jerry breaks free of the laboratory that binds him, and heads cityward, all eyes blazing! But not before a weirdly touching reunion with his fatherless young son Billy (Charles Herbert). 

The Colossus of New York is an incredibly silly movie, but it is not at all bad. Its title is misleading; there certainly is a colossus and he is definitely in New York, or at least in front of a back projection of New York. But those expecting to see a titanic tin man rampaging through Times Square will be bitterly disappointed. It takes until the final reel for the colossus to rock up in the Big Apple and then he causes little actual destruction. Still, much of the movie is moodily atmospheric and the 'bot itself would be pretty intimidating in a dark alley. 

Director Eugène Lourié does his best with what limited resources he has but, as usual, is hampered by a small budget. Also a noted art director Lourié, would direct only four movies, all of which were sci-fi/horror genre flicks. While he certain displayed a flair for the subjects, he sadly never graduated from second features and would not repeat the success of his directorial debut, creature feature classic The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (E. Lourié, 1953). 

Despite its obvious flaws (mainly due to budgetary constraints) The Colossus of New York is well worth a watch. It is no masterpiece, but is well directed and entertaining. With some unintentional giggles along the way. The moral of the tale? Automation is a wonderful thing, but don’t go putting human brains in robots.

Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958)

Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (Dir: Nathan Hertz, 1958). 

Proto-feminist text or trash classic? As much as some film historians claim it’s the former, I think sci-fi/horror Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is probably the later. 

The previous year Universal hit big with seminal sci-fi shocker The Incredible Shrinking Man (Jack Arnold, 1957); independent producer Bernard Woolner was quick to spot a bandwagon and promptly jumped aboard, flipping that movie’s concept for one of a giant woman! In the process delivering a cheap and cheerful exploitation film aimed squarely at the drive-in, double feature market.  

After arguing with her two-timing husband, heiress and owner of the world's most expensive diamond Nancy Archer (Alison Hayes) has a run in with an extra-terrestrial satellite, inexplicably inhabited by a 30 foot bald-headed behemoth (Michael Ross, doubling as Tony the bartender). Radiation exposure results in Nancy growing to a whopping 50 feet in height. Meanwhile husband Harry (William Hudson) takes the opportunity to steal her diamond and ensconce with fancy-lady Honey (Yvette Vickers). Soon the police are on their tail as, more worryingly, is Nancy who wants her diamond and her man back!

Cheap and cheerful The Attack of the 50 Foot Woman may be, but it isn't without a peculiar charm. The special effects are naive, to put it politely. From see through process shots to large papier-mâché limbs, budget restrictions are glaringly obvious, yet this all adds to the fun.

 

It is helped immeasurably by a game cast who play the whole thing absolutely straight, with performances that are not at all bad considering the schlocky nature of the material. Working under the pseudonym of Nathan Hertz is talented director Nathan Juran, perhaps understandably not wanting his name on an end product hampered by a minuscule budget. Yet, within the obvious monetary restraints, he delivers a tightly plotted, well paced and highly enjoyable movie. 

Those expecting a gal Godzilla maybe disappointed. The rampaging is saved for the final moments, while the publicity image of a mini-skirted, enormous Nancy straddling the highway and picking up cars like Tonka toys is sadly not recreated in the feature. Yet there is still much to enjoy in this movie which has deservedly become a cult favourite.

It is fair to suggest that a larger budget and more convincing special effects would have made Attack of the 50 Foot Woman a slicker, more professional movie. But in all honesty I don’t think it would have made a more entertaining one. 

Rather than the adequate, serious shocker it may have been, Attack of the 50 Foot Woman is a campy cinematic treat! A drive-in classic and a lot of fun! 

The Dead Don’t Die (2019)

The Dead Don’t Die (Dir: Jim Jarmusch, 2019).

Writer/director Jim Jarmusch pays homage to George A Romero in the zombie comedy (zomedy?) The Dead Don’t Die. 

Rural small town Centerville finds itself in the midst of of zombie uprising somehow linked to the altering of the Earth's rotation due to polar fracking (?). At the centre of the action are local police chief Cliff Robertson (Bill Murray) and his partner, officer Ronnie Peterson (Adam Driver), who must attempt to hold off the meat hungry horde from consuming the community.

Although, its roots are firmly planted in Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (George A Romero, 1968) and its subsequent sequels, with or without a knowledge of the Romero oeuvre, The Dead Don’t Die is still a fun, albeit grizzly Zombie fest. All the ingredients are present to make a classic comedy horror in the vein of say, Shaun of the Dead (Edgar Wright, 2004), and this it very nearly achieves. But ultimately, while it’s nicely atmospheric with gore to spare, something it about doesn’t quite gel. If it has any flaws it is that it tries a little too hard to be quirky; as if a cult movie by design. It’s never quite as funny as it should be, while attempts to break the fourth wall and references to movie’s script seem a little laboured and too self-conscious.  

With Jim Jarmusch as director and an outstanding cast the movie was never going to be a total loss. Of the cast, Adam Driver stands out; proving with each role that there is more to him than brooding bad guy Kylo Ren. Master of deadpan Bill Murray is, well, Bill Murray being deadpan. This, however, should be enough for most viewers. Meanwhile, Tilda Swinton is a welcome addition as a samurai sword wielding undertaker,  although her character is a little underused and seems likely added to up the quirky quotient. 

The Dead Don’t Die is a good movie. I just get the feeling it could have been better. While it must be regarded as a minor entry on Jarmusch’s CV it is still a worthwhile watch. Especially for lovers of the living dead. 

The Black Scorpion (1957)

The Black Scorpion (Dir: Edward Ludwig, 1957).

Swapping atomic ants for subterranean scorpions and the Los Angeles sewers for the caverns of the Mexico desert, The Black Scorpion shamelessly hitches a ride on the coattails of monster movie masterpiece Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954).

An undistinguished B-movie cast of little charisma cannot help but be overshadowed by the giant scorpions rampaging the southern portion of North America. The second hand plot finds the enormous arachnids chowing down on the San Lorenzo locals. Luckily some US scientists are on hand to make sure the pesky critters do not hop the border. Yup, the plot really is as lazy as my description of it.  

Surprisingly for a 1950s creature feature, the beasts of The Black Scorpion are not the result of radiation exposure. Rather, they are a species of underground primeval predators who nip up to surface for a little human snacking after some volcanic activity. This matter aside, the movie is pretty much Them! 2 (or Them! Again!). Yet while it doesn't live up to its superior predecessor, the movie isn’t a total loss. 

The giant scorpions are the work of the granddaddy of stop motion animation, Willis O’Brien. O’Brien is, of course, the special effects legend who gave life to the mighty King Kong (Merian C Cooper & Ernest B Schoedsack, 1933). This is late in his career and it is clear O’Brien is working on a budget. Yet even within the restraints of a B-Movie budget the effects are largely satisfying. The model work is good, especially when seen at a distance. Less successful are the oft-repeated close up of a scorpion's drool dripping face; more likely to raise a laugh than instil fear in the audience. Some unfortunate process shots, in which the scorpions are superimposed in silhouette over the action, are also below standard and are reportedly the result of cost-cutting. Compensation comes in the form of a spectacular showdown in a football stadium which ramps up the schlock value to great effect 

Ultimately, The Black Scorpion is little more than a Them! knock off. It isn’t a bad movie, but neither is it a particularly good movie. Neither is it so bad it’s good. The scorpion attacks are entertaining, but in its quieter moments the film is a little dull. The tension building that made Them! such a terrific thriller is absent here and without that movie’s moral take on atomic energy it is less a snapshot of 1950s fears and anxieties. While the film is of value to 50s creature feature freaks like me, it is definitely a monster movie also ran; worth a watch for Willis O’Brien’s effects work but little else. 

House (1985)

House (Dir: Steve Miner, 1985).

From Sean S Cunningham, producer/director of Friday the 13th (1980) and Steve Miner, director of Friday the 13th Part II (1981) comes House, a shocker of a markedly lighter tone than the slasher movies for which either was known. 

Promoted as a comedy horror, House stars William Katt as horror author Roger Cobb (presumably modeled after Stephen King) a Vietnam vet who is mourning the recent suicide of a beloved aunt and the mysterious disappearance of his young son. Both events are somehow connected to the creepy house which his aunt has left to Cobb in her will. Retreating to his aunt's abode to write a biographical novel based upon his wartime experiences, he is haunted by all manner of apparitions, included that of comrade Big Ben (Richard Moll) who died in Vietnam. Naturally folks think Cobb is crazy. Enlisting the help of amiable neighbour Harold (George Wendt), Cobb battles to overcome both inner-demons and the curse of the house of horrors. 

Missing kids and suicidal aunts may seem an odd choice of subject for a comedy, even one with horror elements. However, what seems even odder is how a comedy about a war veteran evidently suffering from PTSD was ever greenlit in the first place. While I am pretty sure this raised zero eyebrows in ‘85, three decades later it leaves a decidedly nasty taste. I do acknowledge that this was almost certainly not the intention of the filmmakers and is, instead, indicative of changing (for the better) attitudes. 

Unfortunately the genre straddling in House is not particularly successful, as the film has no firm footing in either comedy or horror. Aside from from some neat satirical swipes on the relationship between author and fanbase, viewers are presented with a comedy which is light on laughs and a horror with no real frights. Gore fans in the audience will be disappointed as this is pretty much a blood and guts free affair, which is fine with me.  

In many respects, House is the cinematic equivalent of a fairground haunted house or ghost train; every so often a rubber creature pops up to offer a jump scare but there is little for genre aficionados to really sink their teeth into. Serviceable special effects enhance the mild thrills but are not particularly groundbreaking and the movie can't help but feel just a little generic. The ‘Nam flashbacks are fairly well mounted but their seriousness feels out of sync with the otherwise comic tone. While they eventually have their payoff, these scenes also feel a little like an attempt to bring the movie runtime up to feature length. 

William Katt is a little bland in the lead; likeable enough but never quite convincing as a man experiencing some major traumas. Although sadly underused, it was nice to see George Wendt in a fairly substantial feature film role. Best known as Norm on TV's long running sitcom Cheers (1982-93), Wendt plays another affable beer drinking everyman type which, let's be honest, doesn't really tax his talents.

Early on in the movie, a ghostly apparition proclaims “Leave while you can!” and I can’t help but feel that this is a warning to the audience. Yet it was popular enough in ‘85 to spawn an incredible 3 sequels, so maybe I am being too harsh on the movie. I am sure that House has its fans, but I imagine that these are largely those who enjoyed it back in the 80s. I can’t really see it having any wide appeal to newcomers. I wouldn't say House is entirely without entertainment value, it plodded along well enough but it was a little underwhelming. It is certainly not the worst movie I have seen, or even one of the worst. However, when the Clint Ballard classic ‘You’re No Good’ plays over the end credits, it’s hard to disagree. 

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (Dir: Eugène Lourié, 1953). 

This sci-fi classic from the heyday of the monster movies marked the cinematic pairing of fantasy titans and lifelong friends, author Ray Bradbury and stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen. 

Based upon Bradbury's short story The Fog Horn, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms tells of the mighty Rhedosaurus, a 200 foot, disease-ridden, carnivorous dinosaur frozen in suspended animation for millions of years and unwittingly thawed by an experimental Arctic atomic explosion, Awakened from his frosty slumber, old Rhed proceeds south to North America's east coast and the warmer waters of the Atlantic. En route to New York he overturns a fishing boat and destroys an innocent lighthouse, before rocking up in the Big Apple to wreck havoc in the city, culminating in an awesome Coney Island showdown between monster and military.

Five minutes into the movie you would be forgiven for mistaking it for a serious minded and somewhat dry science documentary. Yet this somber tone sets the mood for what is to follow. Unlike many 1950s creature features, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is no schlock horror. Of course the science is hokum but the movie takes its self seriously and thanks to superior storytelling and subtle performances from its cast, the audience does too.

For modern viewers the cast is a little less than star-studded, but effective nonetheless. Leading man Paul Christian (sometimes billed as Paul Hubschmid), is believable as the witness whose claims are dismissed by all but a pretty paleontologist, the appealing Paula Raymond. Together they exhibit a natural chemistry and make a likeable screen couple. Genre regular Kenneth Tobey crops up in a supporting role as an initially skeptical colonel. However, the real star of the show is the magnificent Rhedosaurus brought to life via some terrific stop-motion animation courtesy of special effects legend Ray Harryhausen. Harryhausen fills the movie with seemingly endless iconic moments; dino fans will be in reptile rapture as the monster raises its head above the New York docks and rampages down Wall Street, munching on a cop for breakfast! Best of all is the sight of the full length beast tearing down a lighthouse, as the keepers attempt to exit the crumbling structure via spiral staircase. Such is the personality present in the animation that monster fans like me may find their sympathies lie with the beast. After all the poor fella didn't ask to be defrosted.

The Beast of 20,000 Fathoms' superior spectacle makes for a visual experience bettered by little else of its era. Credit also to director Eugène Lourié who keeps the tension mounting in the atmospheric non-action sequences. Surprisingly, the movie takes less of a critical view of nuclear energy than many of its contemporaries, notably atomic ant fest Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954). While the action in some respects revisits King Kong (Merian C Cooper & Ernest B Schoedsack, 1933), it does so without the moral concerns of the ape exploitation tale. In essence, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is pulp cinema in its purist form; exquisitely made and enormously entertaining. Subsequent monster movies from Godzilla (Ishiro Honda, 1954) to Jurassic Park (Steven Spielberg, 1993) to Cloverfield (Matt Reeves, 2008) and beyond all owe a debt to this original masterpiece.

For pedantic pre-hisorians in the audience, no the Rhedosaurus is not a real dinosaur; but surely no one is here for a lesson in paleohistory, just sit back enjoy the carnage!