Unlike most other memorable Hammer horror movies, the 1964 mystery thriller Nightmare, directed by Freddie Francis (perhaps better known as the cinematographer of films like David Lynch’s The Elephant Man and Martin Scorsese’s Cape Fear) eliminates all of the monsters for an old fashioned quasi ghost story... the piece deserving to be remembered up there with those Hammer horror films centered on vampires, resurrected corpses, and lycanthropes. Shot in shadowy black and white, the story follows struggling seventeen year old Janet (Jennie Linden), who is currently away from home living at a finishing school for girls.
Another intriguing indie coming out of the U.K., 2019's Criminal Audition, co-written and directed by Samuel Gridley, is a highly original, uniquely twisted mystery drama with a subtle undercurrent of dark humour running just below the surface – something the British are so bloody good at. A little like an intricately written stage play, Gridley drops us into a most claustrophobic setting. . . first introducing us to a dilapidated, soon to be flattened old theatre during the hyper-stylized opening credits, this soundproof tomb is the location chosen by twitchy, highly stressed criminal mastermind, William (Rich Keeble). Though he’s the boss pulling the strings, our eyes are those of Ryan (Luke Kaile – the other co-writer of the script), a much younger grunt worker who knows William and his operation all too well.
When given a specific set of instructions, it is always best to follow them. . . after all, Ikea furniture can look pretty daunting if you’re missing that annoying Allen key and have to improvise. But, as horrific as the above scenario might sound, of course I’m actually talking about horror movies – specifically, a hair-raising four minute short film called Latch (2017), written and directed by Landon Stahmer. It all starts off simple enough – here are the instructions: “Hold out the match and say ‘show me the light or leave me in the darkness’. . . If you hear something, turn away, light the match and wait. DON’T LOOK BACK. . . but if you look, you might see something looking back at you”. A somewhat typical game teens might play late into the night during a sleep over, our girl receiving said instructions is Sofia (Sarah Bartholomew), a prototypical ‘I’m not scared of anything’ kind of teen. . . her brother, Daniel (Brandon Johnston), the one seemingly trying to spook her. But we know better, there is no Narnia in the wardrobe she is entering, but rather, she is playing with some sort of folkloric ritual.
A bizarre, below B grade indie horror/sci-fi/teen sex comedy hybrid, 1985's Evils of the Night, co-written and directed by Mardi Rustam, attempts to bring in the most popular genre films of the decade – think a combination of Friday the 13th, The Thing, and Revenge of the Nerds (minus the nerds), making for a surprisingly entertaining, if poor film (that all revolves around a battle of the ages – notice I used the word ‘of’ instead of ‘for’). An overly excessive, gloriously pushed to the brink example of the 80s indie horror scene, you’ll see more legs and breasts than in a family size bucket of KFC chicken, more hair than a twenty-four pack of Busch beer, and, as it is mostly set in a picturesque forest, you’ll see more hardwood than softwood – if you catch my drift. Of course, I’m talking about the raucous teen party going on here, including some fetching young men and women – engaged couple Ron (Keith Fisher) and Heather (Bridget Holloman), as well as poor Brian (David Hawk), who endlessly struggles to win over ditzy blonde Connie (G.T. Taylor) and the slightly less ditzy Nancy (Karrie Emerson). Now, before you feel too sorry for the girls in regards to the nudity, for these young actresses, fear not – ringers, and by that, I mean pornstars (i.e. Amber Lynn, Crystal Breeze), were brought in for the edgier stuff.
Having everything that is needed to build a spine tingling horror short, writer/director/cinematographer Jaron Henrie-McCrea’s just under four minute film, Peephole (2018), is one of the easiest and spookiest watches you’ll enjoy this Halloween season. Centred on a sole person, simply known as Man (Tim Lueke), and never hearing even a single word of dialogue, our character can be found asleep on his comfy couch in his small apartment. We’ve all been here before. . . late at night, our eyes becoming heavy, the television, whether exciting or boring (after all, not every infomercial has a knife that can cut through shoes), isn’t enough to keep us from dozing off.
With a title like The Caller (1987), one would perhaps have a preconceived notion that the Michael Sloan written (the co-creator of the television series The Equalizer), Arthur Allan Seidelman directed film would be something along the lines of the much more popular When a Stranger Calls (1979, or, if you prefer, the 2006 remake), yet, like its misleading title, nothing is what it seems. A cerebral horror tinged mystery thriller (that may just have an unexpected dose of sci-fi), Seidelman, who would seem to be aptly named, immerses the viewer with a quarter of an hour of what amounts to a chilling silent game of stalker cat versus female mouse. Taking us from an eerily quiet town to the even more isolated rural woods, our protagonist, simply known as The Girl – reminiscent of the basic names characters were given in the silent film era (Madolyn Smith Osborne), lives in a home that, in lesser hands, would likely resemble the cabin found in the Evil Dead franchise.
If you are looking for something different in the world of vampires, odds are, no matter how outrageous your vampiric fantasy, it has already been done. Above and beyond the widely known Universal and Hammer features, we’ve seen whiny teen vampires – that’s Twilight, bloodsuckers in Alaska – 30 Days of Night, an African American creature of the night – Blacula, the dangers of a ravenous armpit that loves to feed on humans – Rabid, vampires in space – Lifeforce, mechanical bug bites that transform you into the undead – Cronos, cape wearers doing kung fu – Kung Fu from Beyond the Grave, and then we have today’s feature, 1974's Vampira (a.k.a. Old Dracula). . . its secondary title an attempted American cash-in after the release of Young Frankenstein.