52 Pick-Up #3 – The Bird With the Crystal Plumage (1970)

Hello all, and welcome back for the third draw in this experiment in first time watches and cinematic shuffling known as 52 Pick Up.

I know I joked about it last week, and I'm surprised it took me as long as it did to realize – but the January tour of Europe continues this week. Once again, we're going back to Italy, though this time the movie itself will be staying in country as opposed to an Italian director telling us a story in Germany.

So, without overplaying this bit any further, let's get into The Bird With the Crystal Plumage.

It occurred to me while watching this – for as many corners as I have gone down with Italian cinema, giallo has been a pretty big blind spot. I was running the numbers going off of what are considered the traditional rules of the genre, and prior to this, I think I've only seen two others – Phenomena and Deep Red. Both of which, like this movie, were also directed by one of the acclaimed names in the genre, Dario Argento.

Like giallo itself, Argento is a director I have a not insignificant number of potential firsts on the list for (besides the above titles, the only others can currently count as watched are Suspiria and Inferno.) So I was pretty happy to see this title get drawn, as it's held in high regard for both the genre and the director.

In keeping with the now informal format for these write-ups, I suppose this is where I give the quick pitch for anyone not familiar with the movie. Fitting with the above jokes about a European tour, this introduces our hero, Sam Dalmas (Tony Musante) as an American abroad in a losing battle with writer's block. Frustrated and ready to pack it in, Sam's plans for a trip back to the states are derailed when he walks by a museum and finds himself witness to a mysterious person in black attacking a woman. After having his plan to leave the country derailed by police questioning, he soon finds himself caught up in the mystery, as it becomes clear this attack may be part of a larger pattern of murder.

"Hmmm...nope. Still not inspired yet."

One thing I appreciated about this movie from the jump – Argento does a great job at grabbing the audience's attention and holding it. Right from Sam's first fateful encounter with the murderer, there are things that seem amiss. Rather than feeling like obvious giveaways, they serve to bait the hook for both protagonist and viewer. The pieces don't add up for Sam, and so, despite his initial reservations, his curiosity draws him into the search. As he goes from reluctantly pressed into the case to an active investigator, the movie draws the viewer with him, piecing together details of his own findings in a way that expands without giving the game away too soon. Further, the tension mounts as it becomes clear the killer knows Sam is on their trail, and they are determined to keep him off of it.

Is the final payoff worth it? Personally, I'd say it is.

Once the details are laid out and the reveal is made, the nature of the mystery could be seen as straightforward. That said, for foregoing the wilder twists and turns of other mystery stories, it carries itself from being well made all around with its internal logic holding up well. This last turn was a pleasant surprise, as there is often an element credited to giallo in which the main reveal is some outlandish turn of the plot to wrong-foot the audience that often leaves them wondering how it even works with the internal consistency of the movie. I went into this expecting a strange swerve of this type, even as I started seeing the clues pointing to the identity of the killer (which, to my pleasant surprise, I mostly caught – missed the significance of two pieces, but had the right person.)

The visit to this man might be the strangest part of this movie,
and that still makes sense in the larger context.

There's something endearing about this movie in its traditional execution. Taken as a mystery, it's not an elaborate head-trip designed to leave you utterly bowled over as one comes to expect in some modern mysteries, and that's honestly fine. Taken in hindsight, particularly seeing the movies that become overshadowed just by the audacity (or absurdity) of their twist endings, there's something refreshing about how grounded this movie is in the nature of its reveal. Like I said above, the movie seems draw its viewer in like Sam with the fact the pieces are all there for you to notice along with him. Looking back, it never feels like Argento is keeping that one critical clue deliberately out of sight where our hero would see it but the audience won't so he can pull the rug out. 

I'm not sure I can say this is the best movie I have seen of this run (for as rough a watch as it is, The Damned is still holding the edge for quality) but I do feel like right now is the most satisfying watch I've had. To the point where I actually feel bad it's taken me this long to also give a shout-out to the fact this movie's score is by the legendary Ennio Morricone, a reveal that also surprised me as someone used to some of Argento's later synth and prog-rock inspired scores. Learning he would go on to work with Argento again has me looking forward to keeping an eye out for the other times they crossed paths after this.

Honestly? It feels fitting to get a movie like this in January, given it now feels like this has perked my interest in a number of directions to populate the future draws.

Of course, that is for later. For now, we're about wrapping up here but there's still one week left of January. For the final week of the month, or impromptu European tour continues as once again we slingshot back over to Britain, this time by way of a visually striking little place called Pepperland.

That's right – I'm taking care of another long time cinematic blind spot next week with the Beatles' animated classic Yellow Submarine. I'm going into this with minimal advance knowledge or expectations, so this should be fun.

Hopefully will see you all then.

52 Pick-Up # 2 – Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (1977)

Welcome back for the second round of 52 Pick-Up.

Wow, last week was a real chipper start to this whole project, huh?

In my defense, I did say these were going to be chosen at random, so there was always the chance I could start with a downer. It's part of the fun (if you will) of leaving this up to chance. You reduce the likelihood of getting into a rut where you're favoring certain titles or genres over others.

I will be doing some slight modifications to the formula going forward – more to come on that next month as I've already slotted out January – but I'm still going to do my best to keep that level of sheer chance at play.

Speaking of which, I did promise you guys lighter last week, and I'd like to think I've delivered this time around. Perhaps not a happy, lively romp, but at least far less emotionally heavy.

So, without further ado, here's Death Bed: The Bed That Eats.

I have to start by asking this – and this is normally something I am loathe to do cause it kind of feels like a cheap way to farm engagement, but here we go. For those of you already familiar with this movie before this article or it being brought up last week – how many of you first learned this movie existed from the Patton Oswalt stand-up album Werewolves and Lollipops?

No real reason for asking beyond being curious to see how much that helped boost this movie to people by making them aware it existed. I'll admit I am part of that camp, and in a way, Patton's not wrong – there is something truly impressive about the fact a movie like this exists in the form that it does.

First, there's the premise – this movie is exactly what it advertises on the tin. No, really. The movie is literally about a bed that eats. Food, objects, people. The bed just absorbs them and eats them. Yes, there's a backstory of the film involving a demon that fell in love with a human and how the bed is a byproduct of their cursed union, but really – odds are if you're seeking this out, that's taking a backseat to the fact you're watching a horror movie about people being eaten by a bed.

Our monster, ladies and gentlemen.

Which you do see happen. Quite a few times within the trim 70~ minute run time.

Part of why this is so impressive to see and realize someone made happen? It takes itself completely seriously. This isn't presented as a comedy or a spoof of shlocky monster movies. It takes its premise dead serious (which, granted, one could choose to take for comedy depending how they define camp) and that adds to its charm, in a weird way. At no point does anyone stop to reflect on how goofy the idea of a killer bed is. No one snarks about how silly this all is. Everyone is invested and, if they think it's ridiculous, they're leaving it behind the scenes.

Which goes to one of the other reasons this movie is memorable (I'd feel weird saying it works, because this is a VERY 'your mileage may vary' experience.) It's a term that feels like it gets overused to describe movies, but Death Bed is one I would say can be described as 'dreamlike' in its execution. The structure (and I promise, there is one) is told over three vignettes, largely only linked by a voiceover narration from the spirit of one of the bed's victims. The narration, as well as the people involved, all played into this feeling – probably best embodied in the case of one man (played by William Russ – incidentally, I should also note that, strictly speaking, this movie doesn't have a protagonist per se, but his character is the brother of the two characters who arguably comes closest) who survives an attack by the bed. Said attack leaves his hands stripped of flesh and reduced just to the bones. There is no excessive blood or writhing pain, instead he watches as his skeletonized hands slowly fall apart before finally asking his sister to break them off rather than let them finish decaying on their own. It's presented as so matter of fact by the man that it feels like dream logic perfectly in tone with the rest of the movie.

"I know I say it every year, but I think this should be
the last time we go to Spirit Halloween."

The same can be said for the actual eating as it's presented. To hear the title, one would not be surprised to envision a bed with a mouth and teeth, actively chomping its victims in a gory display. Not so here – instead the bed is seen to absorb things, usually matched by a visual of foam rising up from the mattress into which the object of its consumption is absorbed or pulled in. From there, the movie cuts to scenes of the object (or person) floating around in the bed's digestive fluids – often just a person submerged in yellow liquid that occasionally gets tinted with blood.

Exhibits A and B

Everything about this is conducted not with an instinct to shock, but with a slow, careful manner that makes the whole thing feel like a weird dream to watch unfold. So much so that a part of me almost wants to dock it some points for the voiceover narration. Taken on its own, it's not bad – it's not like, say, the infamous Blade Runner narration where you can tell just from watching that it was put in at a producer's insistence. In this case, the narration feels like it's part of the intended arc, especially as it plays into the ending. I recognize why it's here and it doesn't feel out of step with the movie. At the same time, a part of me would be interested in seeing an alternate cut where the narration isn't there and the audience is just left to parse out this strange pastiche of dreamlike actions, as in the dark to the past and motives of the bed as its victims are.

Of course, even if such a cut did exist, I'd still know the backstory from having seen the first, so the whole thought exercise is kind of meaningless until someone figures out a way to selectively wipe memory.

Ah well.

In any case, this was a fun one to check off the list. I'm not going to say everyone should see this, because it is definitely NOT a movie everyone's gonna gel with. That said, it's also a movie where you'll probably figure out in the first ten minutes if this is working for you or not. If I had to sum it up in a single phrase, it's 'seeing is believing.' Even beyond its elevator pitch, this is a movie that, if you're curious, I would recommend experiencing at least once just to see how genuinely strange it is in what it is and what it does.

So, one well made, if bleak movie and one enjoyably strange oddity. Not a bad start.

I hope you guys are liking the European start to things, cause we're staying abroad next week. In fact, we're going back to Italy next week (and again, I promise, less bleak) for one that has been on my to do list for years. Hope to see you back here next time for Dario Argento's seminal giallo, The Bird With the Crystal Plumage.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up #1 – The Damned (1969)

Hello and welcome back for the first entry in this year's attempt to get myself writing at a regular pace again – a dive through my cinematic 'To Do' list I have taken to christening 52 Pick Up.

As I said last time, we're kicking this project off with a title I've been circling for a bit now and one I hope hasn't just doomed this year from a tonal standpoint – Luchino Visconti's grim Nazi-era cautionary tale, The Damned.

Gonna be honest with you all - normally, I'd be trying to do cheeky
captions with the screencaps. For this one? I don't think I can
really riff this in good conscience. Maybe next time.

This is a title that has been on the list for a couple of years now. There are some here that will have been in place longer, but, as I said before, these are chosen at random. This crossed my cinematic radar a few years back when it was announced as an addition to the Criterion Collection. The premise had potential to spike my curiosity, but also reading up left me debating if I wanted to make this a Criterion blind buy or not.

Having drawn this first, let me take this moment to remind you – to the aspiring cinephile on a budget, a good library system is a reliable accomplice.

Now that I've watched the film, I'll start by saying, it's a very good movie and I'm glad I watched it. I'm not sure I'm gonna be running out to own it, but damn, I'm gonna be thinking of this one for a while.

For anyone not familiar with the movie, I'll keep the pitch brief. Set in Weimar Germany, we are introduced to the wealthy Essenbeck family (loosely inspired by the real life Krupps), a line of old nobility with a prominent steelworks to their name. They have all gathered for the birthday celebration of their wealthy patriarch – an innocent enough event that, by chance, happens to coincide with the Reichstag fire. Suddenly, the Essenbecks find themselves at a crossroads – power is shifting in Germany, and the fate of the family may depend on where it settles. Individual members waste no time drawing lines for their parts of the estate and casting their lots in with whichever faction they think will come out on top, and for many, benefit them personally.

As you can probably already guess, this does not end well for...anyone, really. One by one, the members of the family are either betrayed, corrupted, or sometimes both, as their legacy is rolled up and ground into the Nazi war machine.

So if you're looking for something bright and optimistic to start the new year with, maybe table this one for a later date, though I would still say to seek it out if you think you're up for it.

(Spoiler heads-up here, feel free to highlight and read or ignore, but again, if you're not sure, this may be a deal breaker: besides the obvious themes of Nazism, another risky point in this may come in the character of Martin, a hedonistic member of the Essenbecks who is brought under the thumb of the Reich as a result of his predilection for young girls. This thankfully isn't presented in a particularly graphic fashion, but the movie still makes it clear he's a predator. Something to keep in mind, cause I know that can be a lot to get blindsided by.)

As I write this, it's been a few days since I finished the movie and, like I said, I've had it rolling around in my head. In particular, the theme of complicity and how it's presented across many members of the family and to what ends.

Okay, more spoilers ahead, less for 'this content may be a bit much' and more 'I can't really discuss this point without addressing what it leads to.'

There's no question where Visconti comes down on the topic based on what's presented – like I said at the start, this whole film is a cautionary tale on the dangers of complicity and how, in the face of such authoritarian movements, there is no such thing as a 'safe' place. Even those who willingly cast in their lots with it aren't guaranteed protection. To the point where I think the first thought I had on finishing was you could put this in a killer double feature alongside Cabaret or Mephisto (or make a triple play to really get an audience in a grim state of mind.)

It's also something it's hard not to think about nowadays in light of – well, everything going on.

Yes, this one's gonna get a little political, folks. It's kind of hard not to with a movie like this. It's fine if you'd rather come back next time, I promise, it will be a much lighter title.

I didn't go into this one looking to explicitly draw the connections, but it's hard not to as one sees how the movie unfolds. Every member of the family has their way of trying to address the situation – be it the staunch anti-Nazi Herbert who attempts to flee the country, the brash partisan Konstantin who believes the SA will come out on top and intends to put his part of the family's trust in them, or the calculating Friedrich, a relative outsider in the family who allies himself with the Nazis to try and secure his hold in the family and company. Each of these characters responds to the growing threat in their own way, either by convincing themselves it will blow over or that they can manipulate it to their own gain.

One by one, they find themselves either outmaneuvered (Herbert), having chosen the wrong side (Konstantin), or ultimately undone when they discovered the party didn't feel they were sufficiently loyal (Friedrich). When the dust settles, the only family members left standing are the ones who have effectively cast aside their identities as members of the Essenbeck family and instead become uniformed officers of the Nazi party, with their steelworks now dedicated to the war machine.

All the while, only one member of the family even remotely seems to realize the danger they're in – and because of that, Herbert is absent for much of the movie, only returning in the third act under duress and knowing he will be arrested and executed for doing so. The others, one by one, continue to try and play their games of power, never realizing just how perilous their positions truly are.

Actually, there is one other besides Herbert who has any sort of inkling of the situation – that would be Aschenbach, a cousin of the family who starts the movie already a uniformed member of the party. With loyalties already firmly with the Reich over blood, he is quick to advise and manipulate his kin towards activities that will either weaken their holds over the family's steelworks or strengthen the party's hold over the family member in question.

Even more striking is, Aschenbach never actively tries to hide what he's doing – there are several moments where he talks with family members about things like the growing complicity of the German people (“Every German is a potential informant” he declares at one point) and openly tells one member of the family that the powerful people the Nazis desire are those who understand how quickly that power can be taken away from them if they fail to toe the line.

Of course, this is the tragedy of both the story and history itself – even as it becomes clearer the way the winds are blowing, the Essenbecks assume it won't effect them – that either they will overcome it or at least it will blow past. A refrain that echoes painfully clearly in history to this day, as so many tragedies get foreshadowed by 'well it won't happen to me' or 'that won't happen this time.'

In wrapping this up, I find myself thinking about the visual bookends of the movie – its opening titles unfold over shots of a steelworks, specifically in full view of the heat and smoke (and an opening title scored effectively by Maurice Jarre.) This is one of only two times we actually see the company, though it is spoken of often. The only other time comes after the family has been effectively gutted and subsumed by the Nazis, cutting from a final shot of newly appointed patriarch Martin (clad in black uniform and armband), back to the fire and smoke of the steelworks. Besides the obvious Hellish imagery that would suggest, it drives the final point home for the message that the movie is conveying – the family was never of any value to the Nazis, only the steel they could provide. In the end, the people have been eradicated or repurposed, all that remains is the resources.

It's a grim note, but also one it's hard not to ponder at a time where more and more people are questioning how to react to increasingly more alarming grabs for power – will they acknowledge and try to stop it, try to mitigate it, or pretend it's not a concern until it comes for them personally, if they even acknowledge it then? It's not an easy question, and frankly, I feel like no one can truly give a definite clear answer until they're in the moment – but it's hard not to find myself wondering at my own choices watching others play out theirs in a narrative like this.

...well, that was a cheery note to kick this year off. Once again, I hope this being shuffled first wasn't foreshadowing.

As I said before, we'll be going somewhere lighter next week, if not also a little stranger. It's a movie that has been on my to do list since first learning of it as many did in the punchline of a stand-up comic.

Feel free to come back next week for the 1977 weirdo cult favorite Death Bed: The Bed That Eats.

Until then.

New Year, New...You Get the Idea

 

Ah, New Years. A time of new starts, resolutions, and settling the matters of the previous year.

Which means I should probably start with addressing the elephant in the room of what the Hell happened in October.

There's no polite way to say it – the back half of 2025 was a mess for me. Some good moments, but also a whole lotta crap. I won't divulge too much in the details because hey, that's not what you come here for.

At least, I hope that's not what you come here for, because otherwise I've really gotta re-evaluate who I'm writing for.

But yes, the back half of last year was a mix of being just busy enough and having enough other personal issues going on that I will just say it – for my initial enthusiasm with the Night Shift idea, ultimately my heart wasn't really in it to the extent I had hoped for.

For the record, two other things I will give from what I did do for viewing on that project:

-Having now seen the made for TV version of Trucks, I can honestly say that movie will give you a whole new appreciation for Maximum Overdrive's cocaine-fueled momentum and batcrap lunacy

-Having put it off for decades now, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked the made for TV movie of Sometimes They Come Back. It lightens up the tone a little, but in general, it made a welcome surprise from this kind of lackluster experiment.

Perhaps I'll come back to King country somewhere down the line, but not just now.

In the meantime, I do admit, this did make me realize part of the problem here is I keep going for sprints rather than just trying to commit to consistent work.

And so, with the new year, I'm announcing a new attempt to get my arse back in gear.

I have compiled a list of movies that have, to one extent or another, been hovering on my to do list – be they films I have not seen at all, or only seen partially. I will be selecting films from this list at random and each week will offer up some writing on what I have seen. These may not all be carefully researched or thought out, they may not all be deep dives. Ultimately, my main goal is to get writing - keeping to general first impressions and seeing where that takes me.

In short, I'm trying to stop overthinking these ideas and just let them go.

So, here we are.

The first entry has been viewed and is being slated to go live for this Wednesday, as I hope to God I didn't just accidentally set the tone for this year by drawing Luchino Visconti's The Damned.

We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

Till then!

King-Sized Halloween - The Mangler - Continuing The 'Industrial Hazard' Theme

 Okay, I think that's the last of the rat droppings cleaned up.

Welcome back, everyone. Sorry about the mess from last time, but October continues and so the King-sized Halloween rolls on and I continue to read and watch my way through Stephen King’s Night Shift.

As of last time you readers checked in, things were breaking even. A revisit to Jerusalem’s Lot put that story in a much better light than my first impressions went, which helped to make up for the disappointment that came from the well-intended but failed attempt to put Graveyard Shift on the big screen.

I would still recommend that story as a fun read, but I can’t really say I’d go out of the way for the movie.

Adaptation - you win some, you lose some.

We’re going to see how the next entry holds up shortly, but first, there’s a few more stories that Hollywood has not taken for a spin to crack into first.

So, before we start the movie, it’s time to hit the books again.

Night Surf

This is another story that played differently for me now compared to the first time. Part of that being the difference in age. Like I’ve said previously, the last time I read this collection was in my teenage years. A story about disaffected teenagers working their way through a world decimated by plague reads differently when you’re reading it at 14-15 compared to when you’re reading it at 41. Further, I had forgotten over the years the bleak note this tale ends on. Not a singularly grand gesture of bleakness as much as just the slowly growing realization that succumbing to the infamous Captain Trips is a matter of ‘when’ not ‘if’.

Speaking of the good Captain, this is the other thing that hit me differently. Back when I first encountered this story, the only previous King I had read was The Shining. So, save for it existing, I had no knowledge of The Stand to realize King would be repurposing his plague from this story into that larger epic. So reading it with that in mind now added a moment of pondering how long he’d had this kernel of an idea rolling around in his head.

I can’t say I’m entirely shocked that Hollywood didn’t come calling on this one. It’s good, but it’s much more of a mood piece than a driven narrative. To give an idea, the biggest action of the story recounts our young survivors burning an infected person alive. It could make an effective short in the right hands, but as far as a feature goes, this is one where you’d have to strip this thing down to its foundations and rebuild it from scratch. In doing that, you risk turning it into an adaptation people look at and wonder why you didn’t just make it your own thing.

I Am the Doorway 

I was slightly nervous to revisit this one. For years, I remembered this as a story that, when I first read it, really got me hooked. As much as King is praised for his contributions to straight horror, this  The Jaunt (featured in his collection Skeleton Crew) also show some chops for science fiction as well with the right idea. 

Like The Jaunt, this mixes science fiction with a generous dash of ‘horror of the unknown.’ Told largely in recollections, we share the protagonist’s relatively limited understanding of what has happened to him following an experimental space flight. There is no single moment that makes what is befalling him all make sense. He has no ‘John Hurt with the alien egg’ incident to explain the strange sets of eyes and consciousness that are forming on his body. Like the title suggests, there’s even the possibility that they aren’t actually inside him, but simply using his body as a conduit into our world. It’s a simple but creepily effective concept handled very well, from its teasing set up to its grim finale.

As to the question of adaptation - I’d say it’s doable, but it would take someone really putting a lot of thought into how they want to do it. The story as it is is not enough on its own, but that could be addressed by expanding some of the beats - some more time on the mission, maybe a slower reveal of how it changes the protagonist, etc. The one thing I would have reservations about would be the instinct some filmmakers would have to want to give a concrete explanation and define the alien presence. The story works as well as it does with it as a vaguely defined malevolent force that this man is a reluctant vessel for. I wouldn’t automatically rule out a longer take, but I would be cautious until I heard more of how they were tackling it.

Okay, now we’re getting more King-sized with this. All this talk and we’re not even to the movie yet.

So, without further ado, let’s talk The Mangler!

(Okay, that’s one for sentences I never thought I’d ever say.)

With a body of work as extensive as Stephen King has, there’s no singular flavor that can encapsulate it all. Even within the confines of this anthology, there’s slow burn horror, higher concept sci-fi horror, and even a few more somber dramatic stories.

Then you get a story like The Mangler. The Mangler is the kind of story I would categorize as, if I may be blunt, ‘delightfully batshit.’ The whole premise revolves around a giant industrial laundry machine that, through a series of very specific accidents, becomes possessed by a demonic force that gives it a taste for blood.

That’s it. That’s the premise. It’s also a pretty fun read, so don’t take this as knocking it. It’s an idea that works in part because King is aware how inherently outlandish the pitch is, and he’s not trying to make you take it too seriously, but also not being flippant about it. He even gives the idea some extra runway by working in that this is something that has happened with other appliances in the story (obviously without people connecting the dots that it was demons, just stumped by large machines that seem to develop murderous inclinations.)

It’s the kind of idea that it feels like a filmmaker would either look at and go “Okay, let’s get cracking” or “Okay, seriously, what’s the movie really about?”

I came to this movie with a mix of caution and also curiosity. There was a lot in here that could go spectacularly wrong. At the same time, a director like Tobe Hooper handling this gave it some potential, certainly putting this on firmer ground than Graveyard Shift.

So how did it do?

I’m gonna call this a break even. I can’t call The Mangler a good movie, for reasons I’ll get into shortly. It is, however, a much more interesting misfire of a movie than Graveyard Shift for a few reasons.

The first of these comes down to the previously mentioned hand of Tobe Hooper at the helm. Graveyard Shift was the first, and to date only film Ralph Singleton has directed. In fact, his only other directorial offerings were a couple of episodes of Cagney and Lacey, with a career more marked for producer work. I point this out mainly to contrast with Hooper, who was coming off of this movie on the heels of a career that included movies like the first two Texas Chain Saw Massacre films, Poltergeist (to what degree we can debate another time), The Funhouse, and Lifeforce. Partly, this is a reflection on Hooper’s experience, but also in the fact that he has an identifiable cinematic voice. Even in his misses, you can still see him in there.

In this case, that plays into the main change Hooper makes with the source material. As I said above, King presents the killer laundry machine as becoming evil by a series of coincidences - so much so that the big twist of the story (and one I was kind of surprised the movie kept) revolves around a single ingredient in medicine that fell into the machine unknown to the protagonists. Hooper does away with the element of chance, turning the story’s demonic presence into a Faustian arrangement, overseen by the laundry’s crooked owner, played by Robert Englund in old man make-up and a maniacal grin. This demonic deal, which it’s implied by the end has a reach beyond the laundry, is one in keeping with Hooper, tracking with his critiques of capitalism in films like Poltergeist and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, presenting old, wealthy establishments sustaining themselves at the cost of those below them.

Sadly, that’s about the most this has in common with those earlier two movies. Trading the 'freak accident' element of the original story for a Faustian critique of capital is a good idea in paper, but the execution here doesn't come to the same level as Hooper's other offerings. Part of this comes from the fact that, in this case, that is embodied in Englund, whose performance plays somewhere between an aged Freddy Krueger and a caricature of George C. Scott. It makes for, admittedly, some of the most fun viewing of the whole movie, but it causes this to lose some of the impact Hooper has had in other offerings.

It's not just the look. Englund's voice even lapses into
Scott territory at times.

Thankfully, Englund isn't carrying the whole movie on his own. If I'm going to continue to compare this to our previous entry, I will say Ted Levine is a big trade up in a leading man compared to David Andrews. Even more impressive as Levine is cutting much less of a traditional protagonist, playing his detective figure with a mood that is varying degrees of unhappy from a baseline grumpiness to a genuine urge to throttle half the people around him. Not quite 'our hero' material, but Levine makes it engaging to watch all the same.

Of course, much like Hooper behind the camera, Levine and Englund (and, to be fair, the whole cast) find themselves caught up with a tricky balancing act that is, at its core, one of the biggest issues with this movie, one that will plague more than one movie in this line-up – the tone.

I reiterate what I said before – on paper, The Mangler is a really silly concept, that is pulled off in a very engaging way. On the printed page, that silliness is afforded an extra level of forgiveness that isn't afforded in the visual medium of film. One example coming to mind in this case coming from a scene used in this movie to try and tie in a thread from the original story about a possessed refrigerator. In the original story, it's recounted by other characters and that allows it some safety to maintain a degree of malevolence. In the film, it leads to Levine angrily beating on a prop refrigerator until it vomits up demonic energy in an effects display that calls attention to the fact that this movie was made on shoestring and a prayer.

I can't pretend I wasn't tempted to just clip the whole scene
of Ted Levine wailing on this thing with a sledgehammer.

This is one of several scenes where the movie seems to be trying to determine if it wants to try and lean into the full comedy or still maintain some semblance of a straight horror movie – in all fairness, Hooper has been able to play both sides of that line well in the past (as demonstrated by his two Texas Chain Saw entries.) Unfortunately, this time the balance never quite seems to land properly in either camp – it lacks the real bite in its attempts at horror, and what bits of humor there are are two scattered and uneven to really make this an especially fun movie.

If you have to see this for any reason, I'd say it's either as a completist (be it for Hooper, Englund, King, Levine or whatever thread this lands in for you) or simply as a 'seeing is believing.' The last may be the one reason I would ever try to seek out the sequels.

Yes. Sequels. Plural.

No, those will not be part of this line-up. We came here for the original Mangler story, and the original Mangler (or its nearest equivalent) we have covered.

Of course, there are still more stories to cover, so it is time we close the laundry down and move on.

Next entry won't be quite as long as this. Thanks to the way the stories shake out, we're down to a single story and movie, this time coming to something more recent and higher profile.

So be sure to come along as we take a break from the 90s era of King movies for a foray into the current wave of Stephen King filmmaking with the 2023 adaptation of The Boogeyman.

Till then.

King-Sized Halloween – Graveyard Shift (1990) - This Episode Was NOT Endorsed by OSHA

I warned you this joke would be coming back.

Welcome back for the first entry in this October's curated run – the 1990 movie Graveyard Shift, adapted from the story of the same name.

But first, a prelude.

After all, Night Shift is a collection of twenty stories, only about half of which have graced feature films. I don't wish to do a disservice to those that haven't made the proverbial big leagues (and in some of these cases, now want to seek out the Dollar Baby adaptations for later.) Plus, I'm already committed to rereading the whole collection anyway, so before we dive into the movie, let's have a quick discussion of the story that came before it, Jerusalem's Lot.

[A note before we go any further – I'm angling to run this month in the order the stories are featured in the collection. As some of you may already be aware, this will create a discrepancy down the line thanks to an anthology movie double dipping. I will be breaking from the order for that point, but otherwise, I'm sticking to the order as arranged.]

Jerusalem's Lot – Let me start this with an admission – at the time I first read this book, I was around 14 years old. I put this out there as my way of saying that, at that time, I really hadn't come across anything in the vein of H.P. Lovecraft's work. As a result, this story hit and slid off of me the first time out. Between the mythos, the journal narratives and the heavy emphasis on the creeping dread and mystery, I really didn't vibe with this as much as what came after. Revisiting it, I've come around to it a lot more. Looking at this one in the theme of feature adaptations, this is a story that feels like it has enough meat on its bones to make a solid 90-100 minute film without needing too much padding or extrapolation. It makes me both curious and apprehensive knowing they instead turned this into a television series (Chapelwaite). I might give that a shot at some point, but for now, I'll leave it as this story was a pleasant surprise on this revisit. A heavily atmospheric slow-burn with its roots in Lovecraft, that, this time around, came out as one of my favorites. 

Now then, on to our main title for this entry - Graveyard Shift.

I know marketing tends to favor hype over fact
But damn, that tagline is writing a REALLY big check to cash.

As I stated above, I can see the makings of a feature movie in Jerusalem's Lot. I had a much harder time of thinking the same for Graveyard Shift.

Don't get me wrong - this isn't a bad story. I enjoyed it as a good down-and-dirty early King short. But it's also one that it's hard to picture someone reading and coming away from thinking “There's a great picture in this!” Save for the fact this was made at the time where Stephen King's name alone was a selling point, anyway.  

For those not familiar, the story concerns a group of luckless workers tasked with cleaning out the subterranean levels of a textile mill over a holiday weekend. What starts as a miserable slog hosing down water rotted supplies and all manner of decay takes a turn as they descend lower and discover the assorted vermin that have made this their home. To just call them rats is a touch misleading.

In some respects, this has similar elements to Jerusalem's Lot - a small cast, a fixed location, and a heavy sense of atmosphere. It's where the two go from there that differs, however. Jerusalem's Lot has its story in how deep the narrative rabbit hole goes for its protagonist as he uncovers the troubled past of his ancestral home. By comparison, the cleanup crew of Graveyard Shift just venture deeper into subterranean decay and the mutated creatures therein..

In the right hands, this would have the potential to make an awesome short film played to the page. A solid, atmospheric, mean-spirited dive into deeper and deeper dark, both in the building itself and in our protagonist's nature. As a feature length endeavor, it calls for a lot of extrapolation to get it up to a marketable run time.

In that regard, I give Ralph Singleton's 1990 adaptation this - it has good instincts in what areas to build out the story. He chooses to expand on things like establishing the not-your-typical rodent infestation early on, the overall corrupt nature of the mill's manager, and further establishing the protagonist as an outsider with all the hostility that brings with it.

On paper, these are good directions to want to go in. Sadly, they don't pan out in the actual execution.

If I had to sum up the biggest problem in this movie in a single word, it would be ‘forgettable.’ It's not an especially egregious watch - I didn't come away from it feeling like I had wasted my time or was angry with the poor quality. Which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the fact that the movie didn't really leave me feeling much of anything for the bulk of its runtime.

To be fair and try to highlight some good, there are some bits I would consider as making some impact, if not for the reasons they hoped for. 

Though if I'm being completely fair,
Brad Dourif is one of those actors who could make
reading the phone book an interesting experience.

At the top of that list is Brad Dourif - a supporting actor here but easily the biggest star power - as an exterminator written just for the movie. The character on its own isn't an especially fleshed out or engaging figure. In fact, the role is an almost cartoonish cliche that would have been an embarrassment with a lesser actor. Instead, Dourif takes this exterminator whose basically your over the top unstable Vietnam vet stereotype and makes it watchable by playing it at a constant 11.

As fun as Dourif is, most of the rest of the cast leave nowhere near the same impression, sadly. The one other who comes coming close is Stephen Macht, whose corrupt manager has one finger constantly twirling his mustache with every single line read. It kind of makes me feel bad for David Andrew's stoic protagonist, who simply blends in, lacking either the darkness of his original character or a heroic appeal of a more traditional movie lead.

You know what? I take it back.
He doesn't need the finger twirling it,
with some of his line reads, this stache twirls itself.

Which ultimately undercuts the potential in the idea of expanded story - the elements used to make those expansions don't really leave you wanting more of this world. In fact, the actual work under the mill that is the focus of the story is relegated to the final third, making it an utter slog to get there.

As much as I want to say patience is rewarded, even after getting through said slog, the payoff is unrewarding. On page, the descent into the mill is dark, dank, and the increasingly more primal, both in terms of the location and the mutated rodents that reside there. King paint a picture that you can imagine to the point of almost envisioning touch and small in how damp and gruesome it is. In the finished film, it all just feels dimly lit and cheap. That goes for both the set design and the creature work

Reading up on the production of this just adds to the frustration. There were a few attempts at this film starting from initially getting the rights from King on the set of Maximum Overdrive (which, given the allegations of King's state while filming, doesn't speak well for that greenlight.) The first attempt fell through and it led to a next attempt building on the old script and a sense of the budget being whittled down with each go. That there was an initial attempt at this with effects work by Tom Savini makes the unremarkable creature work in the finished version even more of a let down.

I keep telling myself to judge the movie for what it is,
not what I want it to be. But man, for a design was already
underwhelmed by, knowing we could have had Savini
creatures is just insult to injury.

A let down. As much as I feel bad using that term here, it's really the one that feels the most appropriate here. As I said before, I didn't come away from this amused or even angry as much as just…there.
Not the most thrilling way to start things up, I admit. At least I was pleasantly surprised by the revisit to Jerusalem's Lot, and the original story for Graveyard Shift was enjoyable.

I promise, the films will overall pick up from here. This next one is…I'm not gonna claim great, but it's certainly going to be more interesting.
Plus, the next slate includes a story I am pleased to say is still a favorite in this collection.
Till then.

New Year, New October, New Spin on the Horror Dive

Holy shit, this place is dusty.

Pardon my language. I know, that's on me for leaving things untouched here for so long.

In any case, it's October, and after taking last year off, I'll admit it – I've missed this.

So, once again, I'm turning the lights back on and getting ready for another Halloween horror deep dive.

I suppose you're wondering, what franchise will it be this year?

About that...

I'd been thinking that over this summer. There's a few I've been circling for years now to varying degrees of interest or availability (one of these years, I will pull the pin on Argento's Three Mothers, but not this time around.)

After turning over a few have toyed with before, a thought occurred to me to try something a little different this time.

Let me start by saying this has been a surprisingly good year for Stephen King movies. Four movies lined up for major theatrical releases, three have already opened to, if not major box offices, generally good critical response and word of mouth, most recently with the long awaited adaptation of The Long Walk.

So, my brain has already been percolating on King adaptations, and an idea began to form.

If you're reading this and thinking Children of the Corn? Partial credit, though I don't think I have it in me to go all the way down that hole. I powered through all of Hellraiser, but even I have my limits.

But don't worry - those murderous children will be crossing the feed this month in their own time, even if not for the full limelight. Rather than doing a franchise proper, I'm going on a curated dive into the cinematic works taken from King's short story collection, Night Shift.

 

 Yeah, the first edition was kind of understated,
but, as they say, don't judge it by its cover.

I had weighed between this and Skeleton Crew initially. Skeleton Crew was particularly tempting for the one-two punch of The Mist and The Monkey. But, if I'm being honest, Night Shift was among the first King I ever read, so in a way it only felt right.

So, this October, we're going into the weird, wild, wonderful world of the various directors who have taken on the stories in the Night Shift collection, including King himself (that's right – Maximum Overdrive is on the table!)

Just as a final note – this obviously won't cover every story in the collection. As fun as it would be to take on the various stories that have been adapted for short form of television or dollar babies*, I feel like I would bite off more than I could chew. So this will be limited to feature length adaptations, though I will be offering thoughts on the other stories in the collection along the way.

*For those not familiar with this term, King has long had a program in place called the Dollar Baby program he offers to aspiring filmmakers. Through this, they can by the rights to make an adaptation of one of his stories that hasn't been optioned for the low cost of a dollar. As fun as the idea of using those to fill in is, that would require successfully finding them all, and some of these mainly only play festivals, which puts me at a disadvantage with the space of a month.

So, hopefully you'll be coming along for some or all of the ride. Cause it's gonna be a King-sized Halloween here at the Third Row.

Yes, I was able to hold off a whole page before making that joke. No, it won't be the last time. In fact, that's probably now the name of this run.

So, until next time when we kick things off by getting down and dirty in the 1990 movie Graveyard Shift.

 

 Till then.