Review: The Ritual

Netflix has been spending millions on original content for a while now, eager to become an entertainment destination unto themselves and not just a place for binge-watching old sitcoms. There have been massive successes (Stranger Things), and some obvious failures (anything Adam Sandler gave them). But when they pick up a low-budget horror flick from a newbie director featuring no big stars and a story steeped in Norse mythology, it's reasonable to assume it's a movie one should skip. This is one of those situations where it feels so good to be wrong. Let's get lost in The Ritual.

This tagline was changed before release, following the tragic shooting in the city of Las Vegas.

The story centers on Luke (Rafe Spall), an emotionally disabled man who's reeling with guilt from an incident 6 months prior. While his friend Rob met his death in a liquor store at the hands of a minor perp, Luke cowered behind a shelving unit, clutching a bottle of vodka like a security blanket. As a tribute to their fallen friend, Luke and the rest of the gang -Phil, Hutch, and Dom- are hiking through the wilds of Scandinavia, something Rob had always wanted to do. No one is talking about what Luke did (or rather, didn't do) in the liquor store when Rob was killed, but it's on their minds.

When Dom experiences an injury that drastically slows him and the group down, it's suggested they cut the trip in half by traveling as the crow flies and taking a shortcut directly through the forest. What begins as an adventure in brotherly hiking quickly turns into a creepfest, as the men encounter pagan cabins, stunningly realistic nightmares, and a predator unlike anything they've ever seen in front of or behind their eyes. And all the while, old regrets keep bubbling to the surface, like bad booze...

The Ritual is one of those films that will either delight or exhaust you depending on how many horror films you've seen. What I mean to say is, it's not a particularly original plot, and the individual story beats will be pretty recognizable too. There's echoes of The Blair Witch Project, The Descent, The Hills Have Eyes, even Jaws. But the movie does everything so well, and so confidently, I just didn't care. Director David Bruckner does a wonderful job with his first feature-length, knowing just how long to hold the camera, when to let the actors do the heavy lifting, when to show the monster in full.

Oh yes, there is a monster. If you have better than average knowledge of Norse mythology, you may be able to see where the story is going by the halfway point, but that doesn't spoil the incredible reveal. The general consensus online is that The Ritual's big bad boasts the best creature design in years if not decades, and I have to agree. A truly original beastie, with a clever mix of practical and CGI effects, you'll be hard-pressed to get it out of your mind. I'm not going to share it here, you have to see it for yourself.

Your mileage on the human antagonists may vary, as they definitely repeat a lot of what's come before, with less verve and imagination than the woods and the creature. Still, the discovery Luke makes in the attic is a highlight of the film. The best thing about the script is how smartly it deployed comedy. The Ritual is not a funny movie and isn't meant to be, but that just makes the two or three humorous moments land that much harder. One unexpected act of violence near the finale made me do an actual spit-take. Everyone in the cast does a fine job, straddling the line between unlikable and sympathetic with aplomb. Probably best known to Yanks as one of the 2 Andys from Hot Fuzz, Spall does a fantastic job as a leading man, and a dramatic one no less. 

Like all good movies, it's about something more, and something deeper, than just the surface narrative of a group of men getting lost in the woods and dying. The Ritual digs into things that guys have trouble articulating, even when they want to: guilt, regret, what they need to do to achieve or even feel redemption, forgiveness. Bruckner mentioned in an interview that men have much more difficulty than women not just making new friends as they get older, but maintaining the relationships they have. No one is sure EXACTLY why that is, but the specter of hurt is there on the actors' faces, and it's a large part of the story. It's not lost on me that I'm not much younger than the characters as I write this, and have dealt with this problem. A sobering tale once you dig into the themes.

All said and done, The Ritual is the first A on horror's report card for 2018, and if you're a fan of The Wicker Man crossed with the worst road trip imaginable and just a pinch of Lovecraft, you'll dig it.

The Ritual is streaming exclusively on Netflix.

Review: The WNUF Halloween Special

I've mentioned before how Halloween, more than any other major holiday (JUST beating out Christmas), seems to practically run on nostalgia. So much of what we love about October 31st is wrapped up in the experiences we've already had, the candy we received last year or the haunted house we walked through a decade ago. And of course, the cheesy TV specials that have became a ritual of required viewing every season, cartoons and grisly horror and quaint old commercials for shampoo and fast food and department stores that no longer exist. Turns out, the people behind tonight's movie also recognize the power of memories. Let's dive into the WNUF Halloween Special.

Review: Ghostbusters (2016)

Yates, Holtzman, Gilbert, and Tolan.

Let's get the obvious out of the way first: nothing was going to live up to people's expectations set by the first Ghostbusters film. That movie was magic, the kind of lightning in a bottle that happens maybe once a decade. The 1989 sequel couldn't recapture it, the director never recaptured it with his similar film Evolution, and despite having the original writers, every member of the cast save Rick Moranis and Sigourney Weaver, and a truly wonderful plot involving Stay-puft, Slimer, a terrifying spider-woman prostitute, and even a hidden island full of dead cultists, the 2009 video game didn't get it exactly right either. Ghostbusters 1984 is one of those high-concept gifts that no sequel, remake, reboot, or spin-off could ever hope to eclipse.

Thankfully, Paul Feig and the women he directed in Ghostbusters 2016 know that. Rather than slavishly recreate the original story, or go wildly off-book to the point that it doesn't recall a shred of what it's supposed to be inspired by, the new film artfully balances between the two options. All of the folks online who ranted and raved at their computer screens are thankfully given very little ammo by the movie itself. It won't win them over -right or wrong, they made up their minds long ago- but for genuine fans who love the GB franchise as well as the average moviegoer, this one's a lot of fun.

The basics: Dr. Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy) and Dr. Erin Gilbert (Kristen Wiig) are old friends who had a falling out years ago over a book they co-wrote about the plausibility of ghosts. When Gilbert goes to see to it that the book is taken down from Amazon and Google searches so as not to ruin her shot at getting tenure, she is roped into accompanying Yates and oddball engineer Gillian Holtzman (Kate McKinnon) on a trip to a local historic mansion where a ghost sighting was recently reported. One slimy encounter later, the three women decide to go into business hunting and trapping every full-bodied repeating phantasm they can find. After her own disturbing experience in a subway tunnel, MTA employee Patty Tolan (Leslie Jones) joins the team, offering her knowledge of the city as well as her uncle's car. It's not long before the ghostbusters find that someone is actually trying to summon ghosts by building and planting electrical devices that enhance paranormal activity. It all leads to some violent possessions, nuclear explosions, and cartoon characters from hell.

Review: Best Worst Movie

Every human being on earth has unique motivations and goals, but it's safe to say that no one grows up wanting to be a failure. Any project we take on, we generally have a desire to succeed and be recognized for our achievement. No one TRIES to create something terrible. So when something terrible is created, the question is always asked: why? Why did this happen? Whose fault is it? And perhaps most importantly, was it all a waste of time?

Review: Identity

Stop me if you've heard this one: a seemingly unconnected group of people find their lives entangled after an accident leaves them all stranded at a creepy motel in the middle of nowhere. As the hours drag on, folks start turning up dead, and the remaining survivors find that there's more to their blahblahblah...

Oh sorry, did I bore you? Yeah, the slasher film formula has gotten a little creaky over the years. While we still thrill at the sight of Jason hacking up his horny teenage victims, there's not a lot of mystery to the affair anymore. After watching Identity though, I think the ol' sub-genre still has a few gallons left in the tank.

Review: The House At The End Of The Street

PG-13 horror doesn't have to be bad. Just because it's going to feature measurably less gore, profanity, and nudity than the average fright flick doesn't always equal out to a crappy quality experience. Indeed, sometimes it can mean a film that focuses on the more important aspects of the story, The Woman In Black being one example. Of course, that's an exception, and there are only exceptions because there's a rule, right? The House At The End Of The Street is a movie that follows the rules of PG-13 horror religiously. That's the problem. 

Flicking Through Netflix: ATM

I know, it's been just about two years since the people of the Drive-In have heard from me.  I've neglected my fellow fright fans for far too long.  Let me introduce you to a new review series to make up for it.  It's a little something I started on my personal blog, Richard's Weekly Journal, called Flicking Through Netflix!  As the title suggests, I review movies and the pilot episodes of TV shows that are available through the instant steaming service.  Naturally, as this is the Haunted Drive-In, everything posted on here is going to be horror or sci-fi related.  And have I got a real doozy of a first outing for you all.

In my opinion, there are 3 categories that horror movies normally fall under.  There are the Good, movies that are legitimately creepy, that scare and terrify with perfect precision.  These films are well put together, tell a good story, and engross the viewer with their world.  These would be your Halloween and Aliens flicks. There are the Bad, flicks that are cheesy and shlocky beyond belief.  They are still good, however, in that people can find enjoyment in the bad special effects and hokey acting.  This is where Troll 2 would land.  Then there's the Ugly, films so bad that people feel dumber for having wasted time on them.  These movies seem to actively insult the audience.  ATM falls firmly and neatly into the Ugly.

Parkas are scary, right?

Review: The ABCs of Death

I am not a world-famous writer (yet), so I don't often get the chance to review movies when they're fresh. I usually have to wait around for the better part of a year until they land on Netflix or in Redbox so I can weigh in. Hopefully in the future my reviews will be more timely, but in the meantime, I'll be as entertaining and relevant as I can. So I'll begin with this: mother pusbucket, this movie was rough.

The poster was the most coherent bit.

Review: Hymns From the House Of Horror Volume II

By now, you should have downloaded the new Hymns From the House Of Horror, Rue Morgue's annual gift of completely free musical monstrosities. When something this awesome is priced this cheap, how can you go wrong?

In my opinion, this year's collection is stylistically and thematically different from the original in a few important ways. The first Hymns more or less honored its title with eerie pieces that echoed the vibe of a dark, cavernous haunted domicile. The album didn't have a story, but you could say that there was a setting. Listening to the songs, especially certain lyrics, made me think of a large house with a graveyard nearby. The music and artists were eclectic enough, but in terms of what images and ideas they brought with them, everything seemed pretty unified.

With the current effort, Rue Morgue clearly wanted something new to set it apart from the first compilation. There was the addition of fake (and hilarious) grindhouse trailers, obviously, but the songs selected were quite another thing as well. This time around, the producers of the disc seemed to be saying "Well, let's not try to tie it all together thematically. Let's just throw everything we've got at the listener!" Ironically, this ended up giving the second Hymns a stronger theme than the first. With the audio trailers and artists that included such heavyweights as Calabrese and GWAR, Rue Morgue succeeded in crafting the perfect audio complement to cinematic experiences like Grindhouse. A thousand clashing styles and ideas and monsters have been thrown out, drenched in blood, and packaged in 20 short tracks. For a midnight screening, it's the norm. For a music compilation stuffed to the eyeballs with excellent bands and bizarre movie trailers? It's the most fun you'll have with a CD all year.

Not every song is a winner. I personally would have left off "Birthday" by So Sick Social Club and Madchild. It doesn't fit the vibe of the rest of the album, and just isn't a very interesting or enjoyable song to me (is there really any good horror rap? I haven't heard any). Still, this is but a minor quibble. Rue Morgue and their Monster of Ceremonies Tomb Dragomir have bestowed another winner upon their followers, and I hope they continue this for many years to come.

Remember, you only have until July 31st to get it, and when it's gone, IT'S GONE!

Review: So I Married An Axe Murderer

Michael Myers hasn't been in a real laugh-fest for years. I wish it weren't so, I like the guy and some of the goofball characters he's created. But, if you want to watch a really funny Myers flick, you've got to go back to the 1990s. The first Austin Powers film, Wayne's World obviously, and then, there's this little gem.

Review: The Short Films of Jeremiah Kipp

It's always encouraging when someone with clout takes note of your work. The Haunted Drive-in is still a very young site, the current incarnation less than a month old. So when a director of two critically acclaimed short films and an upcoming feature emails me asking if I'd like to review his work, I pay attention. The pioneer in question is one Jeremiah Kipp, who graciously provided me links to his short films Crestfallen and Contact.

Review: The Melancholy Death Of Oyster Boy

Tim Burton has long been my favorite director. I've seen all of his films, I've attended his exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art, and I've read all his books. Yes, he's an author too. Most of us know about the poem that gave birth to the animated classic The Nightmare Before Christmas, but Tim's got several more morbid rhymes up his sleeve. With a title like The Melancholy Death Of Oyster Boy And Other Stories, it's a fair bet that this poetry collection shares the vibe of his cinematic work: a little scary, very funny, and just plain weird.

The book contains a couple dozen poems with oddball protagonists. Almost all of them are children with supernatural handicaps or deformities who fall victim to cruelty and/or accidental death, a common theme with Burton. Some poems, such as the titular tale, go on for a few pages, while others may be a single sentence long. Burton favors simple rhyme schemes and basic structure; the comparisons to Dr. Seuss are justifiable. Of course, this is Dr. Seuss writing as Edgar Allan Poe. Most of the characters end up dead by the end of the poem through happenstance or violence, and those that make it out alive are either injured or afflicted with a curious condition. Each one is accompanied by illustrations that spell out the story, and Burton works in a scratchy, almost child-like style that is very appropriate for the book. True to form, he also manages to work in his two favorite holidays (Halloween and Christmas) in a few places.

Even though Oyster Boy's name is on the cover, the real draw here is Stainboy. He is one of a few characters to have two poems dedicated to him, and the author clearly has a soft spot for the sad superhero. Fans of Stainboy's flash-animated web series will notice other familiar faces throughout the book who appeared alongside (or against) him, such as Staring Girl and Roy, the Toxic Boy. 

The Melancholy Death Of Oyster Boy is short enough to be read in one sitting, and even though it's not great literature, it'll amuse any fan of dark humor and Tim Burton films. Hopefully, Burton will do another collection soon. It might be good for him to take a break from directing anyway. I mean, Alice In Wonderland? Sheesh.

Review: John Dies at the End

There is something to be said about the power of a good book. Books can take you on incredible journeys beyond your wildest imagination. Books can make you care about characters that don't even exist. Books can make you laugh out loud, weep uncontrollably, or send shivers down your spine. Then there are the books that make you glimpse into the dark abyss at the edge of insanity, making you question whether you believe what your eyes tell you. Books that can rip your mind to shreds and leave you shuddering at the very thought of your own shadow. I can tell you this much, boys and ghouls: the author of John Dies at the End is at least half way insane.

Review: I Sell the Dead

Never trust a corpse. I think we can all agree that is some sound advice. And if you're a grave robber, it goes double. These lessons are learned the hard way in  I Sell the Dead, an indie flick from 2008 starring Dominic Monaghan and Ron Perlman.

Review: The Facts In the Case Of Mister Hollow

Just when you think that there's no more originality in horror films, a gem works its way up through the festival circuit and surprises everyone. Three, in fact. The Demonology of Desire, The Eyes of Edward James, and The Facts In the Case Of Mister Hollow are short films directed by Rodrigo Gudino, founder and original Editor-In-Chief of long-running horror publication Rue Morgue Magazine. First premiering at the 2006 Toronto International Film Festival, all three shorts have garnered critical acclaim as well as rave reviews from the horror community. I have yet to view Demonology or Edward James, but I was lucky enough to catch a screening of Mister Hollow. Something's not quite right about this photograph.

Review: Dead Snow

The great thing about horror movies is, whether the flick is good or bad, you can still have a good time. Even truly terrible pieces of work make for a fun evening. Hell, Mystery Science Theater 3000 proved that for over a decade. And since Netflix gave us the beautiful gift of Instant Watch (a godsend for horror fans if ever there was one), mountains of laughably bad films are just a click away. But what about when a movie is just... OK? Is there still fun to be had? In the case of Tommy Wirkola's Dead Snow, the answer is a definite maybe.