If you look back at the early, rock-n-roll days of this blog, you'll find an entry in which I wrote a list of things that skeeve me out. One of those things that skeeve me out is an object just under the surface of the water (boats, old buildings, skeletons) as well as things you know are there, but can't see (sharks, bigger boats, Cthulhu).
Well, you might was well add sea bugs to that list because The Bay did its share to do it for me.
The Bay is an interesting film even before you start watching it. Released to little fanfare, it's made in the found footage style and it's an eco-horror film directed by none other than Barry Levinson (Diner, Rain Man, Avalon). It doesn't seem like the type of movie one would expect from Levinson, but good directors often take chances. For the most part, he scored quite well with this increasingly creepy movie with a message.
In a small, idyllic Maryland town, a celebration of its history on Chesapeake Bay brings the town together. But there's a bit of a dark underside. There's high levels of toxicity in the water thanks to a huge chicken processing plant and a cutting-corners filtration plant installed by the mayor to give the illusion of safety. Two researchers know this, but are dead from a mysterious malady before they can turn in the proper proof. Slowly, through the eyes of several security cameras, phones, news cameras, and video conferences, it's obvious that something is happening in the town. People are getting violently sick, developing ugly sores on their bodies. They begin to react violently or irrationally. Then it all just goes downhill from there. Our various emotions are toyed with as we see this horrifying epidemic unfold through a young reporter's tapes, town security cams, a young girl's iPhone, police dash cams, and the one that builds the most tension: the video camera of a young family oblivious of what's happening taking a boat to the town.
Using a cast of talented unknowns, Levinson adds some meat to the bones of the found footage genre. He uses some good jump scares here and there, but it's the creepy atmosphere that slowly builds over time that really made the film something good. The town at the beginning is the town you want to live in, and the town at the end looks like something out of a Romero film. This all happens in such a short amount of time, you wonder how anyone can get out of it or how they could possibly survive. The tension and atmosphere are on display here.
Some viewers may applaud or bemoan the message of pollution and pollution regulation that sits behind the main face of horror here. Keep in mind: this is just a story. It's fiction. It's the fictional story of a fictional situation happening to fictional people because of some other fictional situation. Relax. Personally, I think pollution is pretty much bad all around. I don't want to go swimming in unfiltered chicken poop, and I certainly don't want mutant sea bugs burrowing into my skin and giving me boils the size of dinner plates.
Atmosphere. That's what really counts. You can throw buckets of blood and gore at me, but what can really give me that unsettled feeling is the right atmosphere. The way a film looks or feels, how the characters are made to look or how we perceive them as they react to what's happening to them. The environment or setting of a film can be a character all in itself.
There are lots of characters in John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness - some of them actually make it through to the end. But one of the best characters is the atmosphere - it's almost a living thing in itself: heavy, confining even in outdoor shots, a weight on the human characters as they move through the mystery of St. Godard's Church. I'll talk more about what I call a "heavy" atmosphere in a setting a little later, but first let's get into the movie itself:
When a priest dies before a big meeting with the higher-ups, an unnamed Priest (Donald Pleasance - the character is actually known as Father Loomis - Carpenter fans do the math) is called in to retrieve his personal effects, which include a small metal box containing a key. What the Priest discovers shakes him to his bones and leads him to call upon someone he considers a friend and rival, Professor Howard Birack (the great Victor Wong), who teaches doctorate-level physics theory.
That's right. Science and religion are tagging up in a cage match against...a tube of pure evil.
Now, don't get me wrong. It's fun to say "tube of pure evil." Go ahead, try it. See? But everything about that tube is no laughing matter. Even science man Birack is rattled after seeing the swirling goo. The Priest tells him it has been influencing the outside world for about a month, changing everything on a molecular level even as the sun and moon align in the daytime sky.
In the meantime, insects and worms are getting agitated and the homeless around St. Godard's begin acting strangely in unison, watching the visitors to the old church with robotic menace. Also, handsome young student Brian (Jameson Parker of Simon & Simon and his mustache) first innocently creeps on then legitimately courts fellow classmate Catherine (Lisa Blount). He's all googly-eyed over her, but she's mostly guarded.
Birack gathers his best students along with other specialized departments to investigate the entity and translate an ancient text that is in the room with it. They load equipment into the abandoned church despite not a single one of them knowing what the whole she-bang is about. Finally, the restless crew is summoned to the basement to witness the Big Ol' Tube of Evil for themselves. Their mission becomes clear: find out what the hell is in there and prove what it is.
A long night ahead of them, the students get to work. One of them is cleared to leave, but meets a throng of the homeless outside. After "admiring" a blasphemous pigeon-based sculpture, the unlucky guy is stabbed with half a bicycle by the lead homeless dude (Alice Cooper). The games have begun.
The students put the clues together and find out that the tube itself is millions of years old, had once been buried in the Middle East about 2,000 years before it ends up in the USA, and that the text in the old book is a literal warning from Jesus Christ Himself that it is indeed Satan inside the tube...and that the tube was buried by Satan's father, dubbed the Anti-God.
And Junior is waking up in preparation to bring his Daddy into our world. *shudder*
Things start happening, small at first. One student bangs her arm, which seems innocent at first, but that changes later. When she goes to take a nap, that's it for her, as we'll soon see. Another, Susan ("radiologist, glasses" becomes a running line of dialogue about her), falls victim to a stream of water that carries the evil one's essence. She becomes possessed, then breaks the neck of another student before moving on to infect the theologist translating the text. They, in turn, infect the very tall, very deep-voiced student Conor with juicy, devil-juiced-filled kisses. Susan and Lisa, the theologist, bring the canister to the sleeping, Blue Oyster Cult-bruised woman and pretty soon the essence of evil is flowing into her. Seriously, the symbol that the bruise on her arm forms looks exactly like BOC's infamous symbol.
Apparently, the Tube of Evil is a big fan.
Another student tries to leave around this time, citing that the whole thing is ridiculous. He glimpses the possessed Susan just before he's stabbed multiple times by a homeless woman. But don't fret, minor character fans, the guy they call Wyndham comes back with a strange, foreboding message:
Things break down after this, as Conor fights the possession long enough to cut his own throat with a piece of wooden banister. The homeless have barricaded everyone inside and the woman once known as Kelly has completely absorbed the essence and has become the living vessel for Satan. The dreams of a possible future - sent from 1999 via tachyon transmissions - show shaky, grainy, and eerily understated pictures of something emerging from the church. Everyone in the church experiences these dreams, but we only see a couple snippets of them. Just enough to creep us out.
During a huge skirmish, everyone is separated, with the Priest ending up in the boiler room, where a huge mirror sits on a wall. You see, Satan needs the mirror to bring the Anti-God into our dimension. Reaching into the huge mirror, she...er, he...um, it grabs hold of a horrible, grasping hand and begins to pull. No one is there to stop it...no one except Catherine, who tackles Satan into the mirror just as the Priest smashes it with an axe. The image of Catherine on the other side, fading into a flickering blackness, is heartbreaking. Like someone disappearing into cold, dark water under broken ice.
The survivors emerge, and move on sadly with their lives. Brian has one last dream before gazing hopefully/fearfully at the bedroom mirror and reaching his hand out to...
And cut to black and end credits.
If this movie doesn't make you fear mirrors, I don't know what will.
John Carpenter made this film as the second part of what he called the "Apocalypse Trilogy," after 1982's remake of The Thing and before 1995's H. P. Lovecraft/Stephen King tribute In The Mouth Of Madness. In each movie, the world is threatened on a level experienced only by a small group of people. The rest of the world is pretty much clueless for two of the movies - they learn the hard way in the final one, but I'll discuss that one at another time.
The threat in Prince of Darkness begins on a conceptual level, and I find that fascinating. Sure, big, blatant threats can be fun from the masked killers of Friday the 13th and Carpenter's own Halloween to the monstrous threat in Cloverfield. But the hidden dangers, the ones that lurk behind our own perceptions of reality...that's where real terror lies. You don't see it coming. You feel it, but it's one of those "corner of your eye" nudges until it's too late. Things in this movie happen not only on an outwardly physical level, but as Professor Birack states, "on the subatomic level" as well. The Priest has a similar quote when he said Satan hides "between the atoms," which is how he sneaks his slimy little way into peoples' hearts. The world around the characters is changing: ants and worms spaz out and climb windows, the homeless (or possibly only those homeless with mental illness) act in unison to carry out the will of something unseen, moon and sun align in space, the sky and the air appear...heavier.
In one subtle scene...blink and you miss it...main character Brian discusses the weight of thing as they have been occurring. He's messing around with a playing card, as he loves card tricks and it's a neat character quirk that he has to do that to busy his hands (maybe he's an ex-smoker). As he makes his point, he performs a pass to make the card look like it's disappearing. Simple sleight of hand, really. Only...the card actually disappears. No one has time to comment on it as events then spiral towards the conclusion. But I thought it was a well-timed, tiny little aside that shows the world is literally sinking into something unexplainable and not quite so obvious.
Here is the scene of which I speak, with the first few minutes setting it up:
Subtle and spooky.
And yes, because it is my blog, I will compare the heavy feeling to - I know it's getting old, but bear with me - Grant Morrison's Final Crisis from DC Comics. When evil Darkseid finally manifests himself in regular reality, it tears a hole in everything we know. Earth is pulled into a black hole singularity created by Darkseid's fall from The Fourth World's reality. In Prince of Darkness, I think something similar would happen. If the Anti-God forces its way into our reality, it will rip and tear the universe at the point where it happens: our world. Wrap your mind around that concept as you fall asleep. You're welcome.
Carpenter was always a master of atmosphere. I mean, look at Halloween, with its minimal blood spray yet sheer terror. The Thing is a study in claustrophobia and paranoia. Even Big Trouble In Little China provides an air of high adventure and magic that happens just beyond the streets and buildings of Chinatown. Prince of Darkness is mostly lesser-known than those three films. Horror fans and aficionados are very familiar with it, and most do agree that it is underrated and among the most chilling horror films. It is certainly among my favorites from the 80's or any decade, for that matter. This Halloween, do yourself a favor and check it out if you haven't before. It's a great popcorn chiller, nostalgic for those of us who grew up in the 80's and saw it then, and still has weight for those just now discovering it.
Now, here, enjoy the final dream sequence/message from the future:
Oh, and here's what the voice says: "This is not a dream...not a dream. We are using your brain's electrical system as a receiver. We are unable to transmit through conscious neural interference. You are receiving this broadcast as a dream. We are transmitting from the year one, nine, nine, nine. You are receiving this broadcast in order to alter the events you are seeing. Our technology has not developed a transmitter strong enough to reach your conscious state of awareness, but this is not a dream. You are seeing what is actually occurring for the purpose of causality violation."
Brrr.
OK, I'm off to deal with zombies. They're not a threat on the conceptual level. They're just undead and hungry. Until next time, fellow survivors...
So, who are "the crazies"? The townies, poisoned by tainted water stemming from the crash of a military plane carrying "Trixie," a biological weapon? The scientists, stretched thin from trying to find a cure while madness surrounds them? The military, charging in with little remorse or organization to shut down an innocent Pennsylvania town? When you watch The Crazies, George A. Romero's first major film after Night of the Living Dead, that's the three-headed question that arises: who really are the crazies named in the title?
After a long day of aerial observation of the zombie apocalypse, I settled in to watch this 1973 film. It has long held cult status among horror fans, but I hadn't seen it until now. Being a Romero fan, I owed it to myself to see it. And, honestly, it was a lot different than I thought it'd be.
Characterization is right on from the start, which is always something one must do to tell a story. After a prologue in which an insane man kills his wife off-screen, threatens his children, and sets his house on fire, we meet David (W. G. McMillan) and Judy (Lane Carroll), a couple that for some reason, made me think of a Ramones song. Alas, but Judy is no punk here. She is the pregnant nurse love interest of ex-Green Beret fireman David, and we learn much about them in the first few minutes. Their stories split for a time as Judy finds a frenetic scene at her workplace as the military has suddenly appeared to account for a crashed plane that held a biological weapon. David and best friend Clank (Harold Wayne Jones), a former high school football star who harbors some jealousy of David, tend to the fire but soon find themselves on the run when Judy makes a break from the hospital on orders from her boss, who fears for her safety.
The town is cordoned off and townspeople are rounded up to be held in the high school. The military seems unemotional, and the image is boosted by their white haz-mat suits and gas masks. They are faceless and in a way, voiceless as each of them sounds the same (a point David drives home when he poses as one of them later in the film). Many of the citizens are confused and defensive. After all, the military's coming into their homes and forcing them out. And really, how can you tell who has the disease and who doesn't when everyone's stretched to their limits? A-ha! Therein lies the rub!
The military brings in Dr. Watts (Richard France, who played the beleagured Dr. Rauch in Dawn of the Dead), who once worked on Trixie to find a cure. He's exhausted, bewildered, and angry at the red-tape workings of the "emergency," but he sets about doing what he's asked to do. Our trio of heroes is captured, but escape from a van with Artie (Richard Liberty, who was the delightful Dr. Logan in Day of the Dead) and his daughter, Kathy (the hauntingly pretty Lynn Lowry, a reigning queen of B-horror). They evade the troops, no easy task since Kathy is obviously sick and frantic and protective Artie isn't much better, finally holing up in a house after Clank kills all five of the soldiers there. His rantings afterward demonstrate that he is slowly succumbing to Trixie, but to his credit, he's fighting hard to resist it.
You'd think there'd be some rest here for our travelers, but no. Artie rants to Clank about protecting his daughter from the immorality in the world, but what happens the next morning is disturbing and horrible. Artie, delusional now, imagines Kathy is his dead wife and, well, assaults her. It's not graphic, but it is very hard to watch. Clank catches him and beats the living hell out of him before David stops him from going too far. Kathy wanders out into the field to play with the sheep, seemingly unaffected by what just happened...she's too far gone. Artie hangs himself. Before long, more soldiers show up and surround Kathy, who's gentle at first but becomes more deranged as the soldiers treat her with coldness and fear. She's finally and sadly gunned down as the sheep run past.
David and Judy escape, followed by Clank, who at first brawls with David, thinking he's trying to leave the poor schlub behind. Clank comes to his senses long enough to tell David to get Judy out of there, and stays to engage the oncoming soldiers. David and Judy get away, and Clank valiantly battles a throng of white haz-mat cannon fodder before his tragic demise.
Dr. Watts, after hours of research and failures, finally finds what could be a cure for Trixie. Overjoyed and impatient, he takes some samples with him and tries to leave the high school where the victims, infected or not, are being detained. The soldiers, in their infinite wisdom, think he's nuts and try to lock him in with the others. He gets away, but a stampede ensues and he dies in the chaos, along with the cure he found.
By the time David and Judy get to the edge of the guarded perimeter of town, Judy is showing signs of Trixie. She giggles, cries, and babbles - breaking David's heart, but he's determined to get her out of there. He builds a wall of concrete blocks around her and takes the high ground while the soldiers sweep past. Things go wrong, as David kills a couple of patrols while disguised as a soldier. Marauding townspeople begin firing on him and Judy, and Judy is hit, dying in David's arms. David kills a couple of the people, but spares the cop friend of his that claims he didn't recognize him or Judy. Could be true, but at this point, we don't know who's insane. We do know that David is immune, and he does too after an earlier discussion with Judy. Soldiers arrive again, and David goes without a fight. He's taken in, defeated yet defiant. The film ends with the reigning commander, Colonel Peckem, being airlifted out to tend to another possible Trixie breakout in Louisville.
Has the disease spread? Is this the end of the world? What becomes of the small town and its people? It leaves you to decide the answers to those questions, and that's the mark of a fine film if it's done gracefully.
The military at that point in history wasn't exactly seen as friendly or embraced since Vietnam was still fresh in the minds of the American public. Romero tended to present the military as belligerent, buffoonish, or at the most sympathetic, over-wrought and overworked. Those adjectives could describe different members of the military in the movie, and especially those that command them comfortably from armchairs far away. So, really, the military isn't the bad guy here, it's those in charge of them: the commander-bureaucrats, bewildered and constantly eating snack food.
Indelible images:
* The woman using a broom in the field after a violent uprising.
* The poor priest, immolating himself as soldiers cart away the parishoners he tries to protect.
* The old lady and her knitting needles, providing a bloody greeting to a soldier clearing her house.
* Kathy's last word, an almost enlightened, "Oh."
* Clank's sad end as a soldier's bullet finds his head and he struggles where he sits.
* The montage of soldiers invading homes, rounding up American citizens.
* Judy dying in David's arms.
* David's smirk as he hears the Army lament the fact they hadn't found an immune human yet - he knows, but out of spite, he's not talking.
Well, time to go - certainly hope that Trixie doesn't exist...we have enough problems right now with this zombie plague. Time to land the chopper again and take a break. You all be careful out there - especially you, Mr. Netflix Delivery Guy. I need my movies.
(PS - This movie is currently being remade for release in 2009.)
