Dune (David Lynch, 1984): 1/5

Laughably bad at times, and even at its best it's just an imbroglio of half-baked "space" ideas; faces, places, names, and historic details come flying at you rapidly without ever being given the time to grow organically. And as if you somehow wouldn't have a hard enough time trying to remember all of the expository bile that's regurgitated at you, DUNE plays by its own rules, making up things as it goes along, never cohering to a single set of governing laws that attempt establish it properly. Its most justifiable reason for existence might be to provide a concrete example of how not to adapt a Sci-Fi Novel to the screen.

Dune (Denis Villenueve, 2021): 2.5/5

Agree with Justin's comment about its production design. Having said that, I didn't feel a single emotion for two and a half hours.

Tell No One (Guillame Canet, 2006): 2/5

The soundtrack is too bad to be true. Not a fan of Francois Cluzet; only here for KST playing a lesbian.

Blue Bayou (Justin Chon, 2021): 2.5/5

This film desperately wants you to believe that there are some good ICE agents in the United States. Bush-league copaganda.

Bitter Moon (Roman Polanski, 1992): 2.5/5

In the seemingly endless saga of films in which Hugh Grant plays a little bitch, this is by far the most unusual.

Lipstick (Lamont Johnson, 1976): 3/5

Weird to see Mariel Hemingway be a literal child and then 3 years later be Woody Allen’s girlfriend in MANHATTAN. Not a pleasant film to watch, but it was better than I expected it to be. Also, it has Anne Bancroft in it, which is always a good sign.

OCTOBER HORROR

Spirits of the Dead (Fellini, Vadim, Malle, 1968): 3/5

A schlocky anthology of three Edgar Allan Poe tales, translated to the screen by some of the biggest names in 1960s European cinema: Roger Vadim, Louis Malle, and Federico Fellini.

Vadim kicks off the morbid triptych with "Metzengerstein," a semi-incestuous gothic tale of Renaissance Fair proportions.

Malle's segment, "William Wilson," is a fascinating pre-Freudian horror story about a man haunted by his conscience, which externally takes the form of his doppelganger.

Fellini's ghostly final act though, "Toby Dammit," is the standout. A drunk and dissolute movie star is trapped inside a surreal purgatory of his own preeminent making, a spooky place that boasts a swirling band of media and paparazzi who vie for his attention.

Halloween Kills (David Gordon Green, 2021): 0.5/5

1/2 a star for Anthony Michael Hall's absolute commitment to the incredibly terrible lines he had to read.

Snow White: A Tale of Terror (Michael Cohn, 1997): 3/5

Surprisingly effective re-telling of Snow White that brings back a grim(m) edge to the story. Weaver was killing it in ‘97 with Alien Resurrection and the Ice Storm; this is arguably her most uncelebrated role.

Slither (James Gun, 2006): 2.5/5

A woman is forced to eat raw dead animals and gets so fat her skin literally just rips open and she explodes all over everybody. She is quite literally the size of 6 or 7 hippos.

An American Werewolf in London (John Landis, 1981): 3/5

Filed under"decent-but-won't-be-watching-again-anytime-soon" Manila folder. Things start to derail a little for me when David begins his "relationship" with Nurse Alex, a strange detour that continually feels out of place and at tonal odds with the rest of the film.

Creature from the Black Lagoon (Jack Arnold, 1954): 3/5

The creature's appearances provide a charge that transcends the rubber suit (especially when underwater; love the significant role silt plays in one tense sequence), turning this into a sort of proto-Jaws, albeit with an uncanny frisson. Workmanlike rather than virtuoso, but the bluster among the male stick figures amuses and Julia Adams makes an unusually imposing scream queen.

Dracula (Tod Browning, 1931): 2.5/5

The weakest of Universal's classic horror movies. "What's that? Running across the lawn?" asks Harker, staring offscreen after Dracula departs. "Looks like a huge dog!" "Or...a wolf?" Even by early-sound standards, the stiff theatricality is overwhelming, and Browning seems oddly uncertain of what to do with the camera. All this film really has going for it is Lugosi and art direction, and one could even make a case for including Lugosi among the art direction. He's effective here the same way that Schwarzenegger is effective in the original Terminator: his foreignness makes him uncanny.

Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931): 3/5

As it is, there's more than enough Expressionist creepiness to compensate for the creaky '31 dialogue scenes. At some point I need to just accept that Hollywood endured a rocky half-decade immediately following the transition to sound, and that even the best films from that period tend to be somewhat compromised. The difference between Whale's work here and Lang's work in M the same year is truly remarkable—the latter seems an order of magnitude more advanced.

The Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935): 2/5

I can't believe how little “the bride” is actually in the movie. (She doesn’t make her first appearance until about 6-minutes before the end credits roll.) I understand she is the relative apex of the film, but I don’t think it would’ve hurt to actually develop her—at least somewhat—as a character, rather than merely a concluding element.

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (Kenneth Branagh, 1994): 3/5

Branagh characteristically manages to make a very literal adaptation here, reverently underlining every thematic note. The ultimate Cool English Teacher movie.

Lamb (Valdimar Johannsson, 2021): 2.5/5

Did I find this productively about anything? No. But the central image is so arrestingly absurd, and when combined with the incredibly portentous tone, honestly that was enough to keep it afloat.

When a Stranger Calls (Fred Walton, 1979): 3/5

It’s like the first 20 and last 10 minutes are a horror movie and there’s just a random episode of Law & Order in the middle.

The Ninth Configuration (William Peter Blatty, 1980): 2/5

There's a part where Stacy Keach, single-handed and unarmed, kills an entire biker gang.

Prom Night (Paul Lynch, 1980): 2.5/5

A typical slasher bolstered by its leading player and giallo charms, PROM NIGHT is undercut by some era-centric elements. It is solid horror whose impact is lessened by disco.

Anguish (Bigas Luna, 1987): 3/5

Bonkers Eurohorror where Zelda Rubinstein plays a psycho hypnotist who brainwashes her schlub son (legendary “that guy” Michael Lerner) into becoming an eye-gouging serial killer who runs rampant in a local movie theater. Weirdest part is: it might be the very movie theater you’re currently sitting in, as reality folds in on itself in a mesmerizing “film-within-a-film” wormhole fashion where, roughly 40 minutes in, it becomes unclear as to who exactly is watching who (or why anyone is enjoying any of it). Think: Dario Argento does FUNNY GAMES in Spain, and you’re not too far off.