Fall Prey To

Part 3 of my Missed the Bloody Cut horror selections, here are some more horror movies that did not meet my strict criteria (a rating of 7.0 or higher). . . but are still entertaining films (horror fanatics may enjoy) that do not deserve to be left behind like an alien who needs to phone home – and that they are definitely worth a watch (just maybe not several re-watches).

What do you get when you hand The Suicide Squad reins over (with carte blanche, I might add) to James Gunn.? .? .? an R rated, Guardians of the Galaxy-like extravaganza that dusts curse-laden comedy over the somber DC verse, throwing pails of blood (and even a few blink and you’ll miss it pieces of male and female anatomy) at the screen to wash away its predecessor’s flat formula. Going ‘out-there’, and that’s saying something for this type of feature, Gunn’s gonzo, go-for-broke style finds intelligence spook Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) sending two teams, or should I say squads, of suiciders onto the island of Corto Maltese – a country that has just seen a coup take out their leader, replaced by a non-American ally. Wave one finds Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman); daddy’s lil monster Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie); Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney); long haired Savant (Michael Rooker); piecemeal T.D.K. (Nathan Fillion); Blackguard (Pete Davidson); a javelin carrying guy who is aptly named Javelin (Flula Borg); and, without further ado, a human-flesh loving walking Weasel (Sean Gunn – he also makes a cameo as prisoner Calendar Man).

Let’s face it, M. Night Shyamalan’s Glass (2019) was always going to find itself in a precarious position. Following arguably his second most lauded film, 2000's Unbreakable, and the unexpected hit sequel to it, 2016's Split, the movie could be considered as fragile as the title itself. For the most part panned by critics, yet more respected by its audience, over the past two or so years, it has become one of those love it or hate it type of features. And perhaps rightfully so, for it highlights both the best and worst of what Shyamalan has offered us over his decades long career – well planned out and most scrumptious visuals, his patented cameos, showing off the sights in and around his hometown of Philadelphia, talky dialogue, as well as those controversial third acts (including those hit or miss twists).

Upon viewing Ad Astra some two years after its initial release, it is not completely surprising that it was a failure at the box office. A film rooted in cinema of the sixties and seventies (you should notice connections to 2001: A Space Odyssey and Apocalypse Now), co-writer and director James Gray (Lost City of Z) takes his time building a familial drama set around space travel. Not the adrenaline rush that was Gravity, nor containing the outward scope of Interstellar, Gray’s story (which he co-wrote with Ethan Gross) looks inward at a man struggling with the bond he has with his father. This man is Roy McBride (Brad Pitt), a successful Major who has always lived in the shadow of his legendary father, H. Clifford McBride (Tommy Lee Jones – perfect casting) – the man to lead the Lima Project to the outer reaches of our solar system (specifically Neptune) to do research on possible extraterrestrial life.

Talk about a buildup. . . starting with the First World War, then came the Second World War, it all leading to. . . The War of the Worlds!!! A gargantuan and ballsy way to introduce your film, these black and white reels from the first half of the twentieth century give way to garish colours of the Atomic Age in Byron Haskin’s modernized 1953 take on the iconic H.G. Wells novel. Controlled by ambitious producer George Pal (who both produced and directed The Time Machine), he obtained the material after it sat on legendary director Cecil B. DeMille’s desk for some three decades (it was always a dream project for him). Bringing in a talented team of creative individuals, it was longtime special effects man turned director Byron Haskin who was his choice.

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.