Bruce Campbell, the Pang Brothers in J-horror mode, Tapert and Raimi presenting a creepy teacher from outer space via Denmark, Dario Argento losing his way, vampires in the Wild West and in Oz, a genetically-engineered monster-soldier, post-apocalyptic bio-zombies, killer barracuda, and an Italian version of The Exorcist—if DVD releases comprise all of these items in a span of just a few short weeks, Halloween must be right around the corner. And yes, I subjected myself to every single one of these titles so you wouldn’t have to…

…actually, I didn’t exactly have to either. However, despite my senses being thoroughly deranged at this point, I’m happy to report the following results to guide you in making your rental and purchase decisions this Halloween season.

Dance of the Dead. The most sheer fun you’ll have with horror this year. No, Dance of the Dead doesn’t try to break new ground in zombie-land (a la FIDO), but if you want to relive the giddiest and most unexpectedly life-affirming moments of something like SHAUN OF THE DEAD, look no further. Dance of the Dead’s dark humor and energy is on par with PLANET TERROR, its inventive action and gore outshine DIARY OF THE DEAD, and in terms of generating feel-good horror nostalgia, it’s easily deserving of the accolades that have been heaped on JACK BROOKS, MONSTER SLAYER. With a screenplay hatched in the late ‘90s, when BUFFY was at its creative peak, the movie’s premise should probably come as no surprise: a small town suffers a zombie outbreak on prom night, and the only ones who can save the day are the misfits who aren’t attending the dance. At first I was prepared to suffer through lots of forced cuteness, lame sex jokes, and uninspired action sequences—but none of that ever showed up.

Instead, director Greg Bishop keeps his eye on the ball, so that each scene seems to end with a punch or punchline that both really clicks and keeps the movie barreling ahead. For its part, Joe Ballarini’s script makes use of well-worn character-types from high school (the cheerleader, the geek, the rocker) but somehow presents them in fresh ways. His work is complemented by the expert casting, which results in entertaining turns by a long list of talent: Randy McDowell, who insists that he outranks the VP of the student body because, after all, he’s prez of the “sci-fi club”; Blair Redford, whose rocking-out stuns the zombies at three instant-classic moments in the movie; Justin Welborn, from THE SIGNAL, who single-handedly transforms the dumb bully role into a compelling action-hero; and Carissa Capobianco as the aforementioned cheerleader who's forced to use her tumbling skills to avoid the mobs of the undead.

(Jared Kusnittz ("Jimmy," left) and Greyson Chadwick ("Lindsey," right) star in Lionsgate Home Entertainment's Dance of the Dead.)

When Dance of the Dead was over, I immediately wanted more: sequels, a cable series, comics, something. Needless to day, it’s the kind of movie that makes you want to devour the DVD extras in order to extend the viewing pleasure. And this happens to be an area in which Ghost House Underground (the new eight-film series curated by Rob Tapert and Sam Raimi) does not skimp. On this DVD there’s a great featurette which for once is really about the “making of” the film in the broadest and most satisfying sense: it charts the ten-year journey of Dance from concept to premiere at SXSW. Then there’s a separate bonus segment featuring all the typical how-to info on the stunts and effects work. Finally, as if this weren’t enough, we’re treated to Bishop’s short film Voodoo, which packs an impressive amount of physical comedy into its five minutes of horror. October 14

Dead Space: Downfall. Who would have guessed that the year’s most splattery splatter flick would be animated? And make no make mistake, this is the real deal in terms of outlandish blood-letting: gouts of the stuff are constantly leaping up from the bottom of the frame like the insides of a jelly donut tossed from a rooftop. And the accompanying aural effects are so good that if you just listen to the soundtrack you’ll still feel like you need a rubber suit to keep dry. Billed as a prequel that provides “critical backstory” for gamers and comics readers already familiar with the DEAD SPACE saga, this SF-horror hybrid would be better off marketed simply as a wall-to-wall action-gorefest—minus any of the humor or wit present in something like DANCE OF THE DEAD. After all, it’s not as if the plot is that rich in complexity or there are so many characters that come out of the far end of the story alive and ready to appear in future DEAD SPACE iterations. The thin plot and hardly original premise are certainly worthy of a videogame, and if you expect no more than that, you may really enjoy this briskly paced creatures-in-space combat outing. One line synopsis: mining colony comes across ancient monolith-like “artifact” of a vanished civilization, decides to retrieve/study it, and soon afterward a mysterious contagion spreads that turns people into monsters who want to disembowel everyone who’s not a monster. Sound familiar? The focus on military-vs.-monster mayhem is heavily reminiscent of other game-to-movie titles such as DOOM and RESIDENT EVIL, although adding a pseudo-religious sub-theme helps differentiate Dead Space: Downfall a tad. Writers Jimmy Palmiotti and Justin Gray do a decent job of machine-gunning hardboiled dialogue at us and of constantly coming up with newer and splashier ways to butcher the characters, but otherwise the story doesn’t aspire to much.

Director Chuck Patton actually does a strong job staging much of the action, but the clear limitations on the rendering and articulation of the animated figures undercuts his efforts severely. On the other hand, the animation really shines when it comes to the backgrounds and landscapes (the DVD extras include a stunning concept art gallery). All in all, I’m making a very cautious recommendation to existing fans of the franchise and to those who enjoy anime-style blood 'n guts in general. Other audiences simply won’t know, about half-way through this, why they’re not watching one of the STARSHIP TROOPERS flicks instead, and I’m not sure I can reassure them on this count. October 28.

Barracuda/Island Fury. The entertaining concession ads and sleaze trailers with which Dark Sky opens this “Drive-in Double Feature” may not have much to do with horror, but they certainly evoke the kind of venues that would have shown Barracuda (1978) and Island Fury (1983) back in the day. Ironically, the “distressed” film stock of these campy extras provides a stark disconnect with the pristine, crystal-clear transfers that follow them: it’s as if Grampa’s Grindhouse converted to HD in the blink of an eye. As for the films themselves, Barracuda is an affable, low-wattage thriller that really bears no resemblance to the JAWS films except that swimmers get chomped in a handful of scenes. Instead, it’s a government-in-bed-with-big-business environmental warning that in many ways is ahead of its time (THE CHINA SYNDROME would not be released until the following year). Indeed, the most disturbing scenes don’t involve the title characters, which play a supporting role at best, but by paid killers. Star Wayne Crawford does a curly-haired smart-guy bit like a depressed Richard Dreyfuss and William Kerwin of the classic Herschell Gordon Lewis flicks is comforting as the local sheriff—his everyman decency is put to good use in setting up the devastating ending. The only real problem is the lackluster editing; fifteen minutes could easily have been cut from the run time, given how the co-directors have apparently never met a room that they didn’t like showing folks walk all the way across. The POV shots of the barracuda are also good for a few chuckles.

Island Fury (aka Please Don’t Eat the Babies) is a different story altogether, a movie so bad that it can be considered seriously only as excellent fodder for holding your own MST3K-style evening, which I think is what Dark Sky has in mind here. Despite some fleeting shots of nude bodies hanging in a shack, Island Fury is kind of like a PG-version of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, which doesn’t sound too intense or intelligent, does it? The trailers for PSYCHIC KILLER and EATEN ALIVE that precede it are actually much more engaging and, in only a few minutes, provide more legit excitement than Island Fury does in its entirety. To give you a sense of how amazingly silly this movie is, and why it should be near the top of your cheesy Halloween viewing list if you value this sort of thing, I’ll describe the first “action” scene... Two young women get noticed by some thugs while shopping for clothes in Chinatown in what seems to be L.A. The thugs then proceed to chase them with abandon in broad daylight through crowded city streets, even through a street festival featuring Aztec dancers in costume performing to a huge audience. And the young ladies simply keep running and trying to hide behind objects and people. At no point do they consider telling anyone that they’re about to be mugged (raped?), and the inescapable subtext is that they don’t do this because they’re white and the bystanders are all black, Asian, or Hispanic. In short, pop in Island Fury at a Halloween party, and be prepared to have your friends’ jaws drop while you’re asked where in the hell you found this movie. Neither exploitation nor straight-up horror, the two titles on this disc are great for a low-key evening of laughing/shouting at your TV screen when you want to take a break from more harrowing fare. September 30

The Substitute. While DANCE OF THE DEAD may be the most purely enjoyable of the Ghost House Underground titles, The Substitute is clearly the best made of the films. From the stunning cinematography and masterful editing to the lush, mournful orchestral score by Marco Beltrami (HELLBOY, RED EYE), with its strains of both John Williams and John Corgliano, the quality of this science-fiction-rooted thriller took me completely by surprise. It’s certainly no slouch in the fun department either, with director Ole Bornedal gamely threading the needle in terms of kid-centered suspense flick, all-out black comedy, and extra-terrestrial terror tale. As for the story, I’m going to provide this shorthand description not to be reductive for its own sake, but because American genre audiences are apt to make these connections anyway: imagine a glossy mix of THE FACULTY and MEN IN BLACK and you won’t be too wrong. The difference is that the sensibility here is sharper and edgier than in those films, both in theme and incident, and makes them seem more pedestrian in comparison. And by making the main characters sixth graders, The Substitute is able to tap into childhood fears effectively. My only fault with the film as a thriller is that it posits a near-omnipotent monster who’s foiled by something most Earth-native educators know when going on field trips: always run a headcount to make sure you’ve accounted for all the kids in your charge.

Still, that’s a small debit on a ledger sheet that’s otherwise solid with assets. Not the least of which is the worth-the-price-of-admission performance of the wonderfully named Paprika Steen as the even more wonderfully named title character, Ulla Harms. Every year, there’s one villain who stays with me and, apart from Heath Ledger in THE DARK KNIGHT, I’m guessing that 2008 belongs to Steen. A commanding figure in contemporary Danish film, she both anchors The Substitute and jazzes it—she’s the steak and the sizzle. Her portrayal of an alien who wants only to understand the nature of love is by turns seductive and ominous, a duality that supports the film’s underlying reliance on the Witch archetype. Imaginative and flawless visual effects round out this exemplary production. Bottom line, this is a macabre little fable that’s gripping without being too graphic or intense (apart from its profanity, which is uttered by twelve-year-olds, no less), which might make it an ideal “mixed audience” film to screen this month. My one gripe about the DVD package is that, apart from some interesting commentary by Bornedal, this release benefits from no other extras to speak of; and that’s a real shame given how much more accomplished The Substitute is than the other titles in the GHU series. October 14

Syngenor. First off, you need to know that the title kinda rhymes with “Eleanor”—I just wanted to get that out of the way. Now, if you’re in the mood for a wild-‘n-cheesy throwback DVD to laugh yourself silly over, then Syngenor is your ticket big time. The title character is an endearing amalgam of the Gill-man, a Cylon subject to factory recall, and a charbroiled lemur. Similarly, Syngenor, released in 1990, reflects almost every late-‘80s landmark genre movie, including ALIENS and, most obviously, ROBOCOP. (Except here the evil mega-corporation seems to have only about twenty employees). Adding significantly to that glorious ‘80s vibe is a knockout performance by David Gale of RE-ANIMATOR fame; he doesn’t just chew the scenery, he regurgitates it and then chews it up some more. He’s actually marvelously entertaining, and I’m not a big fan of over-the-top performances. Overall, the film strikes a tone that I’m guessing is almost impossible to bring off if you shoot for it consciously—not quite tongue-in-cheek horror, not quite straight-ahead horror-comedy, and not quite so-bad-it’s-good horror; it somehow takes the best of these approaches and makes them work. There’s snappy dialogue, mostly in the person of Mitchell Laurance’s intrepid reporter, which is pretty unexpected, and there’s even one or two sexy moments, which are even more unexpected. All you need to know in terms of storyline is that the Synegnors (yes, plural) were designed to be the ultimate desert soldiers to fight America’s wars in the Mideast (!)—this, despite the fact that they lumber about like outsized zombies and their communication skills seem to consist solely of throaty growling. And, oh yeah, now they're off their leashes. In short, Syngenor is the kind of movie that goes neglected in bins at movie rental places and has a 1.9 star customer rating at Netflix because folks must be expecting some kind of big-budget actioner. Now that you’re in the know, sit back and enjoy the craziness. Now, if I could only find a store that will rent me a Syngenor costume for Halloween… October 28.

Rain of Fire. A great way to creep yourself out, sometimes subtly, sometimes bracingly. While obviously a response to THE OMEN (1975), this 1978 Italo-Brit co-production has so many sequences that effectively churn up and then sustain a feeling of unease that it’s without question worth watching in its own right, not simply as a historical curiosity. As in other occult thrillers and their contemporary secular equivalent, the FINAL DESTINATION flicks, there’s a repeated pattern of evil forces orchestrating “freak accidents,” but seldom have I seen them pulled off in such eerie fashion. For example, one victim is done in by the encroaching tide in an exercise of virtuoso editing more than anything else. Director Alberto De Martinois is more than ably assisted by a stellar production design, which includes a memorable glassed-in insane asylum, and Ennio Morricone’s music, which seems to combine elements from his Argento scores and his future work on THE UNTOUCHABLES. The plot itself recalls THE OMEN II, but it lacks that film’s prurient sadism, and the set pieces anticipate such well-known films as DAWN OF THE DEAD and RESIDENT EVIL. If that weren’t enough, RAIN OF FIRE is also pretty interesting thematically—I can’t recall having seen a corporate executive who’s so paternalistic toward those protesting his company, or encountered a priest who so strenuously advocates abortion. As a thriller, the film does disappoint on some important levels. The major twist is so transparent as to not really be a twist, and the “redemptive” ending, while satisfying in many ways, doesn’t achieve the high-octane bang-up climax that earlier scenes lead one to expect. Still, discovering this extremely underrated apocalyptic parable is one of the high points of the season for me; in fact, the lack of special features on the DVD is a bit of a downer considering how good the film is. October 28

Re-Cycle. Expertly directed by the Pang Brothers—whom I generally regard as overrated—and sporting a twist that took me completely by surprise, this is a potent antidote to all the underwhelming Americanized J-horror releases of the past year. Frankly, based on their previous work, one would not expect the directors to be so at home in territory that usually belongs to Jeunet & Caro, Terry Gilliam or Tsui Hark: large-scale world-building in the realm of the fantastic. In fact, one doesn’t even expect such ambitions given the first half of Re-Cycle itself, which centers around standard there’s-a-dark-shape-hiding-in-my-apartment J-horror tropes. Some of the CGI is immaculate and striking, while other visuals are less convincing. All in all, though, this is a very respectable blend of dark fantasy and horror that works so well precisely because it flows effortlessly between one genre and the other. Also, FYI, this might make a solid “date night” horror choice if your date is not as into horror as you are—Re-Cycle is often suspenseful and psychologically penetrating but it’s not grueling or particularly gory. September 23

Five Across the Eyes. Insanely watchable survival horror. Delivered via shaky cam to be sure, but that shouldn’t obscure how fine the camerawork in fact is, especially given the tight quarters—most of the action takes place inside a minivan. The terrific editing only helps matters. When five high school girls get lost on the way from a football game (this is the movie that really deserves the title "WRONG TURN"), they become terrorized and brutalized in ways that are hard to imagine—but the script itself never quite de-humanizes them, not even for a minute. The acting is not great in some places, but is quite strong in many and fearless in all. In some ways, it's a low-budget version of the French INSIDE—not just for its relentlessness and creativity in a subgenre that rarely has any, but in its interesting ideology that both celebrates girl power and features stark, uniquely female versions of both victim and  monster. The main difference, though, is that Five Across the Eyes has a sense of humor. The music I could live without (except for the peppy opening and closing credits), but otherwise this has been the most pleasant surprise of 2008 for me: I expected a lump of coal with a handful of glittering specks embedded in it, but what I got was a diamond with a few smudges. There will be many who disagree with this assessment and that’s fine—I’m sure the filmmakers behind this low-budget effort have been dismissed many times already by those looking only at the movie’s surface aspects. The truth remains that the script has far more ingenuity than most big-budget slasher films, and that directors Greg Swinson and Ryan Thiessen work miracles with the resources they have—so much so that after a while the limitations stop showing up as such, as in the case of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. No, I’m not ashamed to admit that my heart was pounding throughout most of Five Across the Eyes—except when it almost stopped a couple of times. September 30

Mother of Tears. After making a splash at festivals in ’07, Dario Argento’s conclusion to the “Three Mothers” trilogy had a modest theatrical run earlier this year, at which time it was greeted by many positive reviews—which frankly mystifies me. Were these consolation prizes from the mainstream for years of neglect, or encouraging bouquets from the horror community intended to keep the aging maestro in the saddle? In any case, it’s hard to imagine what specifically could prompt a positive reaction to this film, which is really a silly stringing together of shock scenes that don’t really shock. You never expect a lot of rationality from an Argento film, but you expect the lack of logic to be obscured by a memorable tone of madness and unpredictably and, in his best films, an operatic sense of transcendent horror. But in Mother of Tears the gore seems to be purely for the audience’s benefit—and in the end that’s of course always the case, but the trick is to hide this a bit or else come across as a hack. That is, you can’t tell why the evil characters themselves are so sadistic in this film (unless they’re gore fans, too), with the result that the randomness gets perceived as creative laziness instead. Sure, a scene in which a baby is thrown off a bridge made me sit up and take notice, but as the movie progressed I had the feeling that this and similar ideas were simply leftovers from Argento’s mental notebooks of the past four decades that he finally decided to make public

Perhaps Argento’s biggest sin here, though, is the way he takes his daughter Asia—arguably a world-class star or world-class film actor, or both—and regresses her 15-20 years back to the start of her career. The result is that she delivers a by-the-numbers performance that largely consists of running and screaming, and, alternately, screaming and running. If it weren’t so pathetic, the appearance of her real-life mother in dead-Jedi mode as her screen mother would be heart-warming. Instead it’s one more fatal miscalculation. As far as the DVD extras are concerned, skip the featurette with its puzzling interviews with random moviegoers attesting to Agento’s genius. You’ll get more insight from the much briefer interview with Argento himself. So while I’m sure it was a good strategic move to pick up Romero and Argento’s latest for U.S. distribution, someone should inform The Weinstein Company that it might want to invest in discovering the next generation of all-time masters who are no doubt out there struggling for recognition. September 23

Strange Behavior. Released five years before 1986’s BLUE VELVET and two decades before DONNIE DARKO, Strange Behavior prefigures their unpredictable takes on small-town weirdness but does so clearly on its own terms. With a minimalist soundtrack by Tangerine Dream that evokes dread from the first note on, and an effectively deadpan approach overall, Michael Laughlin’s film is disarming in the extreme, in some ways even unforgettable. Co-written and produced by Bill Condon, who went on to make GODS AND MONSTERS, Strange Behavior starts like a slasher movie and then slyly shifts into much more idiosyncratic territory. To its credit, it never comes across as self-indulgent and some of the set pieces, including a knife attack on a couple in a car and the infectious musical number (!) that precedes it, are bonafide show-stoppers. Trying not to be an oddball exploitation flick—the topflight cast, which includes Louise Fletcher and Michael Murphy, always plays things straight—nor taking the kind of twee-yet-bizarre tack to its subject matter we might see nowadays, Strange Behavior stands as a one-of-a-kind tour de force. That subject matter, by the way, concerns a nefarious psych lab that’s heavy into operant conditioning involving the residents of a nearby college town.

A cohesive amalgam of family drama, police procedural, teen flick, science fiction, American gothic, and out-and-out horror, Strange Behavior has a flavor that’s worth experiencing for its own sake. Laughlin intelligently frames things as “squarely” (in both senses of the term) as possible so that the inherent strangeness stands out more sharply in relief. Despite the occasional expert tracking shot reminiscent of early Argento or Carpenter, he constructs scenes wherever possible around static, eye-level, symmetrically-composed master shots that are held for long takes. The effect is disconcerting, like being in the audience for a sitcom taping except that someone forgot to add the jokes. Synapse’s welcome DVD release includes the original trailer, extensive filmographies, and even a couple of deleted scenes it has somehow managed to exhume. October 28

No Man’s Land. At first No Man’s Land struck me as possibly this year’s BORDERLAND, meaning that its many accomplishments would be overshadowed by vaguely similar releases. But then it soon dawned on me that No Man’s Land, unpromisingly subtitled “The Rise of Reeker,” was far more earnest than the earlier film… and then I made the mistake of thinking that this earnestness would translate into its being boringly straightforward. But no, say what you will of this film—dismiss its narrative core as gimmicky—but its odd, and mostly effective, commitment to a truly original premise sets it far apart from so many other titles it may end up getting lumped with in terms of critical and fan response. Even in the context of this hardly exhaustive round-up, there are two other films, BREATHING ROOM and DARK FLOORS, that take strangers of disparate backgrounds, stick them in a disorienting yet cruel pressure cooker, and then proceed to turn up the heat. But where those films only rub up against notions of narrative and conceptual self-discipline in fits and starts, No Man’s Land guides viewers through its twisty backroads without cheats and while always remaining “in the moment” as it considers its audience’s needs; that is, the action-horror sequences work as stand-alones, but then gain extra dimension when things really come together at the climax.

Yes, the cruelty and violence may seem ultra-random at times—even when harrowing and well-executed—but rest assured that in the final minutes, all will be explained. Who’s “Reeker” you asked? Well, he’s some dead guy who’s still terrorizing remote desert travelers. But how is he able to pull victims into the clichéd filling station/greasy spoon rest stop when they are miles and miles from this setting, and then keep them there through some kind of science-fiction force field? You may figure out some of the answers along the way, but the good news is that writer-director Dave Payne keeps the surface story just engaging enough that your mind doesn’t have time to focus on the deeper stuff. I’m not suggesting that No Man’s Land is flawless, let alone a work of genius—there’s too much garden-variety “relationship” dialogue between ex’s and between a father and son—but as surrealist, perhaps even mythological, horror goes, this is a film not simply to be sampled, but savored. I’ve never seen Payne’s earlier REEKER film, which this serves as a prequel to and with which it apparently shares similar plot points, but now I’m anxious to check it out. October 14

Dark Forces. Fascinating, puzzling, and oddly compelling—where is Synapse unearthing all these overlooked little gems? Like THIRST (see page 6), Dark Forces hails from Australia’s Golden Age of genre experimentation in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Also like THIRST, it stars David Hemmings. Here he plays an up and coming senator being groomed by kingmaker Broderick Crawford of ALL THE KING’S MEN fame. The only problem is Robert Powell’s magician character, who has apparently faith-healed Hemmings’s son from leukemia, thus earning him a spot in his wife’s good graces (among other things). How to deal with the pesky charlatan—if that is indeed what he is? If you can stomach the occasional detours into domestic melodrama (“You’re as ineffectual in government as you are in bed!”) and the somewhat anticlimactic ending, then you’ll probably enjoy this decidedly offbeat treat. Indeed, at times the tone is so strangely ambiguous as to be mood-altering, which lends Dark Forces a more grown-up, literate feel than it perhaps strictly deserves. What I loved about the film is that it actually taught me a new way of looking at magic. Previously I had thought about the topic in only either/or terms: either magic is illusion or it is “real” in the HARRY POTTER vein of actually being able to manipulate laws of reality. Dark Forces muddies any such clear-cut distinction of this sort, and does so in a contemplative way, asking what if it took years of training to master certain real psychological and metaphysical practices in order to produces illusions on a vast scale? Still, Dark Forces is only arguably a horror film, and even there it’s true only in the ominous atmosphere of certain sequences (very little transpires that is actually of a horrifying nature). That’s not a bad thing, to instead be a dark fantasy fused with a ‘70s-style paranoid political thriller—in fact, the artful blending of those genres may be the film’s chief virtue. October 28

Brotherhood of Blood. It’s not a good sign when a vampire movie opens up with two consecutive talky scenes, and sure enough in this case that’s a harbinger of things to come: Brotherhood of Blood is so far off-base in its notions of what either horror audiences generally or vampire fans specifically want out of a movie that at times it’s almost painful to sit through. And that’s too bad because at the core of the movie are some potentially intriguing ideas. For example, following a tight-knit band of contemporary vampire hunters who operate a bit like the outfit in DOG, THE BOUNTY HUNTER might be an interesting premise as long as the resultant film didn’t take itself so seriously. Unfortunately, the low-rent characters here—both vampires and hunters—seem to drag the entire enterprise down into a series of cramped, poorly-lit rat’s nests from which the movie can’t really recover: it just hurts the eyes to look at for more than a minute or two. As one of the vampires, Sid Haig gooses Brotherhood of Blood for short spells, but of course both the conviction and the fun that he brings to the party only makes everything else suffer in comparison; it’s as if he’s wandered in from, well, a Sid Haig movie. As another vampire, the always-likable Ken Foree hams it up to mixed results. The rest of the bloodsuckers, however, are about as intimidating as a gang of bouncers at a beatnik coffee house, and the hunters have apparently had all the charisma drained out of them long ago. I can enjoy low-budget “mythological” treatments of vampires as much as the next guy. However, in those cases the ideas have to be the selling point (as in SUNDOWN, or even THIRST). Yet the kind of “ideas” this movie floats consists of things like torturing a vampire by pulling his fangs out. If that sounds like something you couldn’t have thought up on your own, then there’s a slim chance you might enjoy the heavy-handed and humorless goings-on in Brotherhood of Blood. October 14

Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat. Although technically released in 1990, this film oozes ‘80s-style fun-lovin’ horror from every pore, and in large part this is the reason to see it. As an exercise in fright or action it is middling at best, working on too broad a canvas, and with so many characters and subplots that it doesn’t generate much focused intensity. As a work of vampire fiction, though, it notably prefigures both the Charlaine Harris synthetic blood approach and the vamp-on-vamp wars of Christopher Golden’s magnificent “Shadow” novels. Also, for its Huey Lewis-like music and couple of outrageous moments of dark humor, Sundown is a more-than-decent excuse to munch popcorn in the dark.

Just don’t think of this is as a Bruce Campbell film per se: he doesn’t even appear in the first twenty minutes and for the remainder he functions mostly as a secondary character, doing a toned-down version of his monster-slayer shtick. (Instead, the movie unfortunately spotlights a couple of incredibly boring married humans and their kids, played by two atrociously unskilled child actors.) Hardcore Campbell fans who don't know Sundown may still get a kick out of seeing him in a mildly romcom-like role when he was still so young and handsome—in his tweed jackets and bowtie he recalls the “dashing nerd” character played so memorably by Cary Grant or Henry Fonda in screwball comedy mode. As for the rest of the cast, David Carradine delivers an uneven performance but one that’s almost made up for by a highly effective turn by the great John Ireland. Among its many extras, the DVD sports three really disarming and candid interviews with Campbell, Carradine, and M. Emmet Walsh that will leave you with a warm genre-movie glow. September 23

Breathing Room. I was trying very hard to like this movie, to admire its resourcefulness and whatever other positives I could find, such as the overall quality of the acting and the economy of the one-set location. In the end, I even started thinking that Breathing Room would be a nifty stage play, especially given how all the lights go out whenever a murder is committed: this seems like the perfect way to make a live audience tingle and shudder in the dark as it hears the various thumps and screams around the theater. But in a movie I think we need a bit more in terms of technique and engagement. Even more so with a storyline that’s not exactly new for horror movies made during this century—a group of strangers “wake up” in an austere interior location and are gradually tormented and killed by a talky, superior-sounding, um, jerk. Along the way, we learn about their moral faults and dirty secrets. In short, I’m guessing that someone connected with Breathing Room has seen the SAW movies, in particular the second one, which featured the same premise of the victim-group including an unknown “collaborator.” In Breathing Room, you can spot who that mole is almost from the get-go, and the final reveal about the motives behind all the carnage is particularly unsatisfying. My advice is to skip this one unless you’re friends with someone associated with this project, in which case I’d actually be encouraging in terms of future efforts: there’s talent on hand here, it’s just that it’s applied to such wrong-headed ideas that there might as well not be. September 23

Trackman. This weakest title in the Ghost House Underground lineup recalls BOTCHED, my favorite horror-comedy of 2007, in both premise and its specifically Russian setting, but unfortunately those are the only things that the two movies share. There’s no sense of humor in Trackman, not even for comic relief or of the mordant variety. That would be okay if there was a genuinely bleak and original vision behind Trackman, but that’s absent as well. Still, if there were generally some suspense or horror (I’ll take either) at some point, that could also be enough, but Trackman comes up empty-handed there, too. All right, then at least let me spend some time with characters who will impress me in some way, but here again the filmmakers seem oblivious to the basic rules of audience engagement. I’m not talking about making characters likable or making sure that we can “identify” with them—I find both strategies to be overused—but at least give me a crew that’s not 100% doltish. Even the bad guys are very vanilla in Trackman—but actually, that would be insulting to vanilla, which does have some flavor. The bad guys, by the way, are actually the good guys. You see, during a heist getaway, a subterranean, Chernobyl-surviving, pickax-wielding maniac starts stalking the robbers and their leggy hostages. They die one by one. Much use is made of screaming and fog machines. The monster uses a machine gun at one point. Even for me, hardly a horror purist, that was a particularly lame moment. In sum, Trackman was by far the biggest waste of my time of any DVD I’ve viewed this Halloween season, and if you’ve read this far, you know I'm inclined to be generous in terms of horror offerings. Perhaps a decade ago, when the idea of high-gloss genre movies coming out of Russia for Western consumption was still a novelty, there might be something in Trackman to hold your attention, but in late 2008, please… avoid at all costs. October 14.

Bryan Loves You. This is why I watch horror. No, not that I loved, liked, or am even particularly recommending this film—but I admire what writer-producer-director Seth Landau is trying to do, and most of what doesn’t work is because his reach exceeds his grasp. Mostly I like that horror is the platform for this kind of ambition—because what else could be, really?—and I like that Anchor Bay can back this kind of original vision. Blending a paranoid thriller about cults and wrongful institutionalization with horror elements such as creepy masks and cameos by genre standouts such as Tony Todd, George Wendt, and Brinke Stevens seems like enough to shoot for. But Landau ups the ante by doing the “this is all real footage” deal—a conceit that ultimately doesn’t hold up anymore than the lousy stuntwork and inconsistent performances. Bryan Loves You works best as a series of disconnected scenes, many of which shine individually, rather than a satisfying feature-length narrative; its somewhat elliptical ending is particularly irritating, especially given Todd’s William Castle-like intro (something like, “We apologize for the shocking nature of what you’re about to see and if you feel sick, please inform a theater usher”). The DVD commentary, by the way, is a trip—just about everyone involved in the flick is included except maybe the caterer. September 23

The Last House in The Woods. I wish I could recommend this film as a contrast with MOTHER OF TEARS: a state-of-the-art Italian shockfest that is as direct and as memorably twisted as Argento’s early work. And indeed, for the first few opening scenes, I believed such a comparison was justified. Certainly writer-director Gabriele Albanesi knows how to tell a story and how to work with actors (who, as part of what seems like an Italian tradition, simply have great faces). But the story is too unabashedly derivative—not just echoing other Euro-hits of recent years, with a touch of INSIDE and THEM and a large dollop of FRONTIERS, but also a whole slew of American horror franchises such as THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, THE HILLS HAVE EYES, and WRONG TURN. So if you’re rabid fan of those titles, then check this out, but even so you might be a bit disappointed. As with FRONTIERS, you can chalk the whole thing up to friendly homage, but that film at least presented a couple of newish ideas and technically it was impeccable. Here the lighting and camerawork is spotty at times, and although the script structure builds suspense for short periods, it’s never really sustained. Yes, there is a pronounced kindertrauma factor in Last House, and that accounts for the slim margin of originality that the film does have; the problem is that the kid-in-jeopardy and kid-as-monster elements (the movie has both) are not really developed but rather used as flavor accents to a typical “survivor-girl” structure. It’s a bad sign when you can actually predict the order that the characters will die in, something I was able to do here. The final problems: a gore movie with lousy stuntwork is unforgivable; and an action thriller with no believable fight scenes is a bore. October 14

Dark Floors. Have you heard of the Finnish monster-metal band Lordi, or perhaps are one of its members? If so, you could find Dark Floors to be a total blast. Otherwise, you’ll want to give it a fairly wide berth. Which is unfortunate because director Pete Riski, like Albanesi in THE LAST HOUSE IN THE WOODS, has more-than-solid storytelling and dramatic skills. In fact, I’m hoping that the entire film becomes part of his industry reel and helps him secure the better projects that he deserves. Unfortunately, in Dark Floors all of Riski’s talent in establishing creepy atmsopherics and eliciting psychological nuance from his actors takes place in a context created by a big stinkhole of a script. I love “haunted hospital” settings, and the premise of having different creatures/monsters assail us on different floors could actually be kinda fun. However, our protagonists, the usual group of bickering strangers, are painfully clichéd—the black security guard, the cynical jerk, the special-needs girl with undefined powers, etc. And aside from having their numbers dwindle predictably, there’s not much of a compelling structure to the plot. Unlike RE-CYCLE, there’s no overriding hook of character or situation to keep an audience involved in the story’s irrationally nightmarish aspects, so that in the end Dark Floors leaves the impression of being a J-horror outing probably best performed by finger puppets—it’s that unconvincing, forced, and simplistic. Moreover, all the moments of intriguing surrealism and (less-intriguing) high drama are so transparently in the service of providing a vehicle for each Lordi band member to have his own ultra-violent set piece that any sense of artistic authenticity plummets. October 14

The Vanguard. In many ways, this is a tricky film to sum up (much to its credit), but here goes: imagine a toned-down version of the Japanese forest-bound actioner VERSUS as directed by an Ingmar Bergman who feels he can do a better job with DOOMSDAY’s script than Neil Marshall did. Verbose enough to be a talk-show and top-heavy with a science-fiction critique of big business, The Vanguard picks up steam towards the end but otherwise is the most ponderous and awkward action-horror release I’ve seen in quite a while. Given the U.K. setting and quick-moving zombies (technically “bio-syns,” genetically-engineered predators), the film’s obvious antecedents are 28 DAYS/WEEKS LATER. Sadly, though, writer-director Matthew Hope lets things get unintentionally goofy by having these monsters flail their arms as they run, which results in their resembling roving gangs of angry, spastic chimps. In theory, this actually could be a promising idea—show the post-apocalyptic de-evolution of humankind by stressing more primate-like behaviors—but the second Hope took at a look at the footage, he should have recognized how silly this came off in practice.

Sober and thoughtful to the point of being somber, The Vanguard is admirable in its many small touches of realism: the hero uses not motorcycle and crossbow and other items of cool, but a low-tech bicycle and handheld hatchets. Both the budget and the editing, however, hamper the would-be gore scenes, with the money shots so clearly staged cutaways that any sense of spontaneity and shock is lost; we cut to close-up of an impalement but there’s no sense of continuity that this is the same body we saw in the fuller shot a moment earlier. All in all, a mildly interesting curiosity, and a valiant attempt to tell a vast story with limited means, but after a while one grows tired of looking at what seem to be the same two or three forest clearings and fields as stand-ins for the wider world. September 23

Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer. I’ll skip the full run-down on this film since it was as recently as August that I covered its theatrical run here. If forced to give a one-line summation, I’d say that when the movie delivers either laughs or action, it often does so impressively—but there are too many stretches where it does neither. Yet even if you’ve already seen this tale of ordinary-Joe-turned-hero, you’ll want to spend some time exploring the DVD since the folks at Anchor Bay have done one of their typical bang-up jobs. There’s an epic 48-minute long “making of” featurette which actually starts so far back in the creative process that you’ll hear the producers discussing why they chose horror as the genre for their first film collaboration. A remarkably detailed and clear segment on the making of the monsters seems like it would make a good primer for fledging filmmakers. It’s complemented by another piece covering a topic that I’d like to see included in extras more frequently: the music; in this case, Ryan Shore’s orchestral score, which is really rather rousing and wonderful. There’s also a brief bit on the premiere of the film at Sitges and, of course, a commentary track. If this was one of your favorite horror flicks of the year, as it seems to have been for many people, you’ll find that the DVD should help you relive the fun that much more. October 7

Beyond the Door. I may be giving away my advanced years and a certain amount of “genre cred,” but I have to confess that I’ve wanted to see this film since childhood, when the TV spots gave me a heavy dose of full-blown chills. Now, thanks to the incredibly complete and historically-minded job that’s been done by the Code Red label, I was able to wallow in nostalgia like a pig in slop. For example, just the way that star Juliet Mills introduces the film (her commentary is also classy and sweet) makes you want to give her a hug and a cup of hot tea. Of course casting her in the Linda Blair part in the first place was itself, well, if not exactly subversive, then at least naughty, as she was best known to American audiences at the time for her lead role on NANNY AND THE PROFESSOR.

All right, but is the film itself any good? It’s actually hard for me to say since I’m predisposed to finding so many of its aspects interesting. Think about the most obvious way you might go about blending ROSEMARY’S BABY and THE EXORCIST and that’s what Beyond the Door in fact does: “Hey, let’s make the pregnant woman herself possessed and spewing green goo all over the place!” Yet there’s also much that’s original and downright disturbing in the film, some of which doesn’t even involve any head-spinning antics. For example, Mills’s “normal” kids are incredibly devilish in their own right, so much so that the entire film can be read as chronicling her character’s ambivalence about bringing an unplanned pregnancy to term (remember, this film was shot in the U.S. soon after Roe v. Wade). This is a reading born out by one of the earliest scenes in the film, in which she leaves her kids unattended in a supermarket parking lot—in a convertible, no less—while she blithely goes about her shopping. Loaded with almost too many special features to mention (although I should call out the superb video memoir by actor Richard Johnson), this DVD release is probably a must-have for connoisseurs of either Italian horror or ‘70s horror in general. September 16

Thirst. Don’t put off by the box art: this is not the umpteenth million standard-issue vampire flick you’ve ever seen. Far from it, in fact. Released in 1979, Thirst bears many signs of both ‘70s and ‘80s genre filmmaking, but somehow avoids their clichés. Indeed, Thirst is like nothing so much as a latter-day Hammer film in its intelligence and production quality. However, the film was actually made in Australia (though featuring non-Aussies such as Henry Silva and David Hemmings in key roles) during the period that Synapse Films is wisely highlighting with its recent releases. Thirst takes the idea of using “vampirism” as a metaphor for social and economic relations (e.g., vampiric capitalists/MNC’s/trial lawyers, etc.) and dramatizes it in terms that are boldly original. So instead of supernatural goings-on, the film uses the conceit of the old PRISONER TV series, except in this case “The Village” consists entirely of blood drinkers (and their domesticated food supply); and instead of wanting to coerce information out of the protagonist, the residents want to “turn” her. An even more apt parallel might exist with THE TIME MACHINE, in which the Eloi are bred into docile sheep by the cannibalistic Morlocks while ostensibly enjoying plenty of fun in the sun. So while there are no crosses, stakes, or moonlight vistas to speak of in THIRST, think hard about how nasty and effective the term “blood-cow” is.