Fantastic Voyage (1966)

When a defecting Russian scientist is nearly assassinated, a secret branch of the military is called in to save him. The CMDF (Combined Miniature Deterrent Forces) send Dr. Duval (Arthur Kennedy), a top brain surgeon and his technical assistant (Raquel Welch) along with a host of others (Donald Pleasence of Halloween being one) to pilot the Proteus. The Proteus has exactly 60 minutes to navigate to the scientist’s brain, correct the injury and get-out—before the team returns to original size.

Sure it’s dated and {sometimes} nonsensical, but Fantastic Voyage is just that—fantastic. Fans of vintage sci-fi or super-hot Raquel Welch will enjoy the artistry of the human body mapped out here. The cursory blinking lights, knobs, and dials are present, but somehow the special effects of the voyage seem way better than those typical of the 60s. The body’s natural defenses—antibodies and white corpuscles become an enemy of the crew as they become entangles in the reticular fibers. Seeing the Proteus approach the heart value looks as true as what you’d see in a textbook—the value anyway. It’s obvious a lot of care was taken to represent key elements of the human body true to form.

Fantastic Voyage isn’t without some proselytizing, 60's era corn, and a predictable saboteur. But nothing keeps the film from being a fascinating time warp.  As I see it, this is one movie I’d love to see remade. Let Bruckheimer or Bay get a hold of it... just imagine. For now, enjoy the trip.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961)

The U.S.S. Seaview is a state of the art atomic submarine piloted by Admiral Harriman Nelson (Walter Pidgeon). Sent to destroy a ring of radioactive fire that will destroy the Earth if left alone, Adm Nelson and his team of experts including Comm. Lucius Emery (Peter Lorre), Dr. Susan Hiller (Joan Fontaine), Capt. Lee Crane (Robert Sterling), and Lts. Cathy Conners (Barbara Eden) and Danny Romano (Franklie Avalon) must battle giant squids, mine fields, saboteurs and a mutinous crew to save the world.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea is a grossly inaccurate scientific adventure that recalls a time before CG. The innards of the vast submarine are an array of blinking buttons, huge knobs, dials, and steering wheels that the cast convincingly sells. The film’s color palate is evident in the rainbow of ridiculously colored scuba suits. Frankie Avalon gets in a solid trumpet solo and viewers also get a great look at Barbara Eden.

As I see it, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea is vintage sci-fi. Inaccurate hokum that entertains, strings and all!

The Carpetbaggers (1964)

Carpetbagger (noun): any opportunistic or exploitive outsider

Jonas Cord Jr. (George Peppard) is an embittered tycoon who inherits his neglectful father’s wealth at a young age. Jonas sets out on a path of unexplained self destruction buying or destroying everyone in his way. It’s not until he is confronted by long time friend/mentor Nevada Smith (Alan Ladd) that Jonas sees what he has become.

The Carpetbaggers is a classic Hollywood soap opera that once was deemed for ‘Adults Only’. In this day and age, there’s hardly anything found to be offensive.  It will raise a few eyebrows mainly because you wonder ‘how did they get away with that’.

Filled with broads, bedroom scenes, cigarettes, and lots of leg, The Carpetbaggers also has enough subplots to make your head spin. George Peppard is fascinating to watch as Cord. During this two hour power-trip he is brutal and cold, but his evolution to soulless is subtle and perfectly executed. Alan Ladd as the long-suffering friend turned enemy is top-notch.

The production is lavish—reminiscent of Dallas. Every detail is luscious—gawdy even. There are moments of melodrama, but The Carpetbaggers delivers on every tawdry level thanks to the exceptional cast. As I see it, Hollywood doesn’t make fine trash like this anymore.  Certainly a must-see for old Hollywood fans.

My Fair Lady (1964)

A classic musical that harkens to a day of lavish studio productions that left no detail to the imagination.  Audrey Hepburn is enchanting as Eliza Doolittle--a common flower girl turned society debutante by maddening no-nonsense Professor Henry Higgins (Rex Harrison).

Help! (1965)

Beatles fans watch Beatles movies for one thing:   Beatles music.  Not intricate storylines or award-winning performances.  And although Help! maintains the premise that our beloved boys are travelling the globe to escape some religious zealots that must have the ring attached to Ringo's finger, the film really is a vehicle for the music and zany Beatles' antics.

There's something precious about the Fab Four mucking about onscreen.  The chemistry among them is captivating.  Here director Richard Lester parlays that into a charming, seemingly random romp to the boy's hits.

From the boy's England flat (gotta love John's space) to the sands of the Bahamas, John, Paul, George, and Ringo execute crazy dry dialogue reminiscent of Monty Python with nary a smirk.  Paul shrinks.  George faints.  John quips.  Ringo worries.  It's goofy mayhem!

As I see it, A Hard Day's Night is more cohesive.  But Help! is more fun--it's the original "you've got red on you.".  Both are essentially music videos, but who cares?!  It's The BEATLES!!

31 More Days of Horror: The Birds (1963)

You know the idea of it is scary as heck—birds running amok in Bodega Bay. And with Alfred Hitchcock’s demented direction and unparalleled touch The Birds is as effective now as ever.

The film begins unassumingly—much like a romantic comedy of the day. San Francisco socialite Melanie (Tippi Hedren) crosses paths with handsome bachelor attorney Mitch (Rod Taylor) and follows him back to his hometown. The wholesome village of Bodega Bay soon experiences a seemingly freak avian assault. Locals comment on the random events, but the tide has already turned into a vicious fowl uprising.

Simple in its delivery, but brutally riveting The Birds is a masterpiece of horror for many reasons. We'll look at two.

1. No score.  Most viewers don’t notice it. There is no background music to speak of resulting in a truly horrific intensity when the birds assault.
2. Editing. Again, Hitchcock shows his brilliance. Right out of the gate you are entranced by his subtle techniques. See the pet shop scene at the beginning. It’s merely a clue to what is to come.

I love how Hitchcock builds the tension with no release. You’d have to be living in a cave not to know about this movie, so you expect—going into it—the birds to attack. But you get to stew. The viewer is pushed to edge before the mayhem is unleashed.

The scene that gets me time and time again is the school yard. That sequence of quick shots floors me every time. The chill up your spine, the shortness of breath, the goosebumps—God, I love it!

The Birds is easily my favorite Hitchcock film. So much more than a creature feature, this film is worthy of an examination. See this masterpiece. You won’t be disappointed.

31 More Days of Horror: The Haunting (1963)

Most likely, you've seen this movie in some form.  There are two versions of House on Haunted Hill.  Liam Neeson starred in an OK version alongside Owen Wilson and Catherine Zeta-Jones.  If you've seen any of those then this B&W version starring Julie Harris and Russ Tamblyn is a must see.

Typical of films of this nature, it's the direction that builds the creep factor.  Director Robert Wise (see also: The Day The Earth Stood Still) executes frame after frame of lurking shadows to build tension that drives the viewer to near insanity.

Moody and atmospheric, it's Julie Harris as Eleanor Lance that delights.  Her slow spiral into madness is subtle and perfectly nuanced.  Eleanor is of fragile mind thus her invitation by Dr. Markway (Richard Johnson).  Having survived the only recorded poltergeist experience, Markway hopes to use Eleanor to learn from the Hill House.  But Eleanor might not make the weekend.

The Hill House is perfectly macabre.  Gothic before Goth was cool, the set is eeriely detailed with strange statues, hinges, mirrors, and wallpaper.  Oh God!  The wallpaper!!  The ultimate creep-out is a few wonderfully composed seconds with a door knob.
Wise builds the history of Hill House through Dr. Markway's narrations so the viewer has a heighten sense of awareness, but ultimately leaves you, the viewer to frighten yourself.  To really enjoy The Haunting, you must ask yourself one question.  How good is your imagination?

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)

An evening of cocktails between couples becomes a forum for hateful games and spiteful fun in this classic drama. History professor George (Richard Burton) and his charming wife Martha (Elizabeth Taylor) engage in an unrelenting discourse of stinging barbs and ugly secrets while newly wed guests Nick (George Segal) and Honey (Sandy Dennis) look on in horror. As the alcohol content increase, so does the ugliness. Before long both couple are spiraling into a hangover riddled morning.

What a film! Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is an oft-heralded classic and after tonight's viewing, it's easy to see why. It's an uncomfortable drama to watch as George and Martha spar unmercifully, constantly trying to top one another. The emotions weigh heavy and with the one, two of Burton and Taylor... the film is powerful.

The chemistry between these former lovers is brilliant. Elizabeth Taylor is venomous, but beautiful. Set in B&W, she pops onscreen with class. But in this role, she's borderline insane. Richard Burton is perfect foil. Burton plays the bespectacled George as quiet, but calculating and perfectly undercutting. These two are cold-hearted. Underneath it all, you sense a perverted joy from the couple.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is essentially a two hour diatribe between Burton and Taylor. It's a two hour, emotionally-wrenching diatribe. The setting is simple--a quaint home on the university campus, a car, parking lot (in a scene that contains some of the film's greatest dialogue), and small bar. Director Mike Nichols (The Graduate) had great foresight to just stand back and let the actors fly. The screenplay is certainly weighty, but it's the casting that really makes this film. Can't believe this is the same guy behind Closer. {Ugh!}

As I see it, the film is deserving of it's praise. However, I wonder if the nuances would be lost on modern cinema. Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is an unforgettable character driven drama thanks to fine performances by Burton and Taylor.

Alice's Restaurant (1969)

Inspired by the 18 minute song by Arlo Guthrie, Alice's Restaurant is a meandering piece of hippie Americana that I cannot, in my right mind, recommend to general audiences or cinephiles. This is a true niche film that celebrates a generation. Alice's Restaurant, for the uninitiated, is the story of Arlo and his unorthodox way of avoiding the Vietnam War draft.

The film unfolds as a seemingly random series of events. Here's the gist. Long-haired hippie Arlo visits Alice for Thanksgiving. As a favor, he takes a VW Microbus full of trash to the local dump which happens to be closed for the holiday. In turn, he finds a ravine (already filled with rubbish) and tosses it all there. Paraded about as the scourge of society, Arlo's littering charge leads him to be declared 'unfit for service'.

Arlo Guthrie narrates the very embodiment of a generation. When viewed in context, Alice's Restaurant is very much a socio-political statement from a generation filled with hope for a better tomorrow. But if viewed otherwise, the film is tired, dated, and downright slumber-inducing.

As I see it, Alice's Restaurant is better known as a song, not a movie. But the film could easily stand alongside Easy Rider as a voice for a generation.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)

Butch Cassidy (Paul Newman) and his Hole-in-the-Wall Gang are well known across the West for their brazen antics, but it's best friends Butch and the Sundance Kid (Robert Redford) that are legendary. Butch is the idea man. Sundance is the skill. Together, the two outlaws reach legendary status. But the west is changing and when Butch and Sundance rob E. H. Harriman's Union Pacific Railroad train one too many times, a posse begins to trail the two. No matter what tricks they pull--across mountains, rivers, and rocks, Butch and Sundance can't shake 'em. Then Butch has another idea. Bolivia. Sure as shootin', the boys shake the posse, but can't shake their lifestyle and before long are on the run again.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a well executed buddy western that strikes the perfect balance. Every element here is right on the mark (save for the score--which now seems overly dated--more on that later). It's hard to imagine a more perfect screenplay or a better duo for delivery.

Newman and Redford have phenomenal chemistry. They are charming. The banter between these two is equally funny and thoughtful. Katherine Ross stars as Etta Place, Kid's girl and Butch's friend. Director George Roy Hill taps into a camaraderie here that is essentially the entire film. It's perfect.

The cinematography is top-notch, rendering a perfectly dusty Old West. Cassidy's interaction with the bicycle comes to mind. Sweeping vistas, stretching plains, towering hillsides and Boliva. The film takes on a wonderfully-colored feel in Boliva.

Truly, I have a love/hate relationship with the score by Burt Bacharach. Such a lightweight feel is unheard of in the genre, but it fits the almost subversive tone of the film. Still, it's sugary sweetness leaves a cloying aftertaste.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is everything that is right with art form. Although I think sometimes it struggles to maintain relevancy Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is the original--therefore it is a must see. However, it's the dynamic duo of Newman/Redford--two ICONS at their greatest that make it classic.

The Parent Trap (1961)

Sharon McKendrick (Haley Mills) and Susan Evers (Haley Mills) couldn't be more different. Sharon, from Boston, is a prim and proper young lady schooled in etiquette. California-bred Susan comes from horse ranch and relishes the outdoors. Two girls so different could never be so alike. Or could they? Their first meeting at summer camp leads to an all out war. It's not until camp counselors place the two in solitary confinement that they discover they are twins, separated as babies when their parents, Maggie McKendrick (beautiful Maureen O'Hara) and Mitch Evers (steely-eyed Brian Keith), divorced. With just a few weeks left of camp, the sisters hatch a plan to switch places, get to know their other parent and ultimately reunite them.

Walt Disney's The Parent Trap is rambunctious fun thanks to a fine performances all around. Mills is the star of the show, but she's constantly threatened by the likes of O'Hara {whose metamorphosis from dull socialite to motherly vixen is phenomenal} and character actress, Una Merkel. Mills walks a fine line of sweet and sassy that never overreaches. As polar opposites Susan and Sharon, Mills' acting chops are challenged and she delivers swimmingly.

Elegant Boston and sunny California make for beautiful settings for the twins' adventure. The film charms you with top-notch performances, an engaging musical number, and non-stop fun.

Much like The Swiss Family Robinson, Mary Poppins or 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Parent Trap is a must-see Walt Disney classic.

Pollyanna (1960)

Disney golden girl Haley Mills stars as Pollyanna, the sunny side up orphan who comes to live with her Aunt Polly Harrington (stunning Jane Wyman) in Harrington Town. Obviously, the wealthy aunt gets more than her say in the town's affairs and that has created an embittered populace. Little Pollyanna, with her eternally sunny disposition and 'glad game', soon raises eyebrows. When the town and Aunt Polly showdown over a proposed orphanage and Pollyanna suffers for it, everyone realizes how important this little ray of sunshine has become.

Walt Disney's Pollyanna is genuine Americana complete with picket fences and apple pie. Unlike the films of today's Disney, Pollyanna instills a positive message that isn't sickeningly sweet. Instead, the viewer is uplifted and nostalgic for more.

Haley Mills provides a spot-on performance of sweet innocence. The ever-cute Mills plies a believable role of childhood. Kevin Corcoran (Old Yeller, The Swiss Family Robinson) as her orphaned friend Jimmy is adorable, but I really enjoy Karl Malden as the fire and brimstone preacher Rev. Ford. Pollyanna wins him over in due time, of course.

Pollyanna is family friendly entertainment that recalls a time when children were treasured, families were sacred, communities were extended family members and right always won. C'mon, you know you want to visit.

The Hustler (1961)

"Fast" Eddie Felson (Paul Newman) is a pool hustler. Young, brash, flawed, and brooding, Eddie travels the country hustling games and aims to dethrone reigning pool hall champ, Minnesota Fats (Jackie Gleason). Their first match-up leaves Felson's confidence shaken and he struggles to define himself. Is he a born loser? Enter the equally flawed Sarah Packard (Piper Laurie). The two quickly form a tragic friendship. Eddie struggles between his love for Sarah and the hustling that provides the thrill. When the two worlds collide, Eddie bets it all on one high stakes rematch.

The Hustler is a brooding, emotional drama with some of the finest performances on film. As Fast Eddie, Paul Newman unleashes a multifaceted role that this viewer loves to hate. Fast Eddie wears a facade arrogance and rebellion to hide loneliness and self-hatred. Newman is seamless in this volatile role. Jackie Gleason is an understated surprise as Minnesota Fats, but it's George C. Scott's performance as Bert Gordon-the hustler out-hustling the hustler-that matches Newman scene for scene.

Writer/director Robert Rossen brilliantly uses the B&W cinematography to provide a seedy underworld feel, but also to underscore an emotionally taxing story. It's wonderfully filmed and seamlessly edited to subtly manipulate the viewer into submission. The overly melodramatic score is a glaring irritation.

On a more personal side, I viewed this film over the course of three days. Day one was a monotonous set-up for Eddie's first challenge to Fats. Day two was the spiral to heartbreak and broken thumbs. Today, day three, was a much deserved finish for the moral high road.

I'm torn here. The Hustler is undoubtedly deserving of it's place in cinematic history. But as I see it, {God help me}, viewing The Hustler was a chore--much like reading Moby Dick. Glad to have seen it, but more glad to have it behind me.

Hud (1963)

The Bannon family have been cattle ranchers for three generations now. Homer Bannon (Melvyn Douglas), the patriarch, is an honest no-nonsense man who's successes solely depend on his ability to work hard. Hud Bannon (Paul Newman), disaffected and self-centered, is the only surviving son who's actions continually threaten the old man's stern nature. Caught in the middle is fresh faced grandson Lonnie Bannon (Brandon de Wilde) who is idolizes Hud, but respects his grandfather too much to cause him the grief and pain that Hud causes. Disease among the well-invested herd, a beautiful housekeeper Alma (Patricia Neal), and Hud's undermining antics force a stand for each man with great repercussions.

Present day viewers expecting a western in the traditional sense, be warned. Hud is a character study. The film is simple in nature. Filmed in beautiful B&W with award winning cinematography, Hud stands on the nuanced performances of it's cast.

Hud is a defining classic in the filmography of Paul Newman. He explodes onscreen as Hud--an alienated youth, caught between his desires and what's right. The boy lives rashly either in an attempt to distant himself for his brother's death or to bring about his own early. You decide.

Equally riveting is Melvyn Douglas' Oscar-winning role as the elder Bannon. His gruff demeanor masks a life of love, loss, and hard-work--he wear it all, proudly, as a badge of honor. But his hardest challenge... Hud is his son.

de Wilde is nice foil to the heavier roles of Newman and Douglas. Pitch perfect as Lonnie, de Wilde is the wild-eyed boy with a transistor radio in his pocket, coming of age, and trying to determine where he fits.

Patricia Neal simmers in sexuality as Alma. The lone woman in this family, she centers and disciplines them all before becoming a causality of the Bannon men.

Two elements of this film serve to enhance these masterful performances. The B&W cinematography from James Wong Howe is powerful. The Bannon family, framed among the arid and gritty backdrop of Texas with wide shots of lone silhouettes evokes strong emotion for the viewer. Silence is used in a powerful way. It punctuates an already terse father/son conflict.

Hud is a dramatic masterpiece. Under Martin Ritt's direction, all of the key elements fall into place and it is beautiful.

Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Chrismas (1966)

This animated classic never fails to warm the soul. The original collaboration between animation innovator Chuck Jones and literary genius Theodor Geisel brings to life Dr. Seuss' world beautifully.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas is the epitome of classic. The animation is pure Jones and wonderfully rendered. Mt. Crumpit and Whoville are exactly as they should be. Max and Cindy Lou are delightful, but it's the narration by the legendary Boris Karloff that gives the film it's life. In his rich baritone, the film jumps off the screen. The inflection and warmth of two oh so distinct voices is so engaging. Then there's the score. Delightfully silly, incredibly memorable and perfectly singable. Every word perfect.

Avoid all imitators; they fall painfully short. See Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas. See this one! This film is Christmas.

31 Days of Horror: The Ghost and Mr. Chicken (1966)

Didn't expect this one, did you?

The Ghost and Mr. Chicken doesn't offer intense scares or gory delights. No, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken is pure small-town Americana brought to you by Don Knotts.

Flighty Luther Heggs (Knotts) aims to be a reporter for his small town newspaper, the Rachel Courier Express. When the editor offers the break of a life time, Luther's in... until his finds out he has to spend the night at the Simmons mansion. 20 years ago, the home was the site of a now famous murder-suicide. As the anniversary draws near and the family heir, Nick Simmons returns to destroy the mansion, this is Luther's only chance. What ensues is the stuff of good movies.

The Ghost and Mr. Chicken hinges on Don Knotts and his trademark physical comedy. His nervous disposition, eye movements and propensity for chest-enhancing is goofy, but so much fun to watch. The dialogue and Knott's delivery is a riot.

The sincerity of the entire cast, the beautiful production, and the crazy ominous soundtrack help create a wonderful film. The Ghost and Mr. Chicken is a family-oriented movie with a few stringed scares and plenty of laughs.

30 Days of Horror: George A Romero's Night of the Living Dead (1968)

Is there really any better movie than Night of the Living Dead? Seriously?! Night of the Living Dead is everything you want in a horror movie. The original B&W classic is a simple idea perfectly executed.

Gore aficionado, writer/director George A. Romero is innovative and masterful here. From the start with Barbara and her brother visiting their mother's grave, the two are attacked by horde of zombie. The fright begins and never let's up.

So what makes Night of the Living Dead so great? Let's break it down:

• B&W cinematography ~ Screw Technicolor! What Romero does, playing up the negative spaces with grace. The unfolding cinematography without choppy edits raises the bar. He successfully builds a isolated, claustrophobic feel that terrorizes as much as the zombies.
• Effects/Gore ~ The splattering, limb gnawing, impalement, fire--it's all effective and horrifying.
• Human elements ~ First the collective strangers in the farmhouse--they have to come together for survival, but at the same time there are all these sub-sets of people. Whether divided by race, age, or an unknown suspicion, it plays on the audience's fear--acceptance.
• Social commentary ~ Night of the Living Dead works on two levels. One is simple full-on horror. But you could also take it in context of the 60s decade and Romero would seem to address political issues of the day head-on as well.
• Farmhouse ~ It becomes a character unto itself--as a barricade between the living and the dead, but it also becomes a crutch for our characters
• Cast, both dead and alive ~ Sure, they are virtual no-names. A definitive plus; however, there are genuine performances from them all. These zombies set the bar by which all others are measured. Perfection.
• Sound/Score ~ Even watching Night of the Living Dead with the sound turned off is hair-raising. The ominous score adds another haunting touch, but notice how Romero slowly removes forms of communication from the picture furthering the isolation.

Finally, the ending. Night of the Living Dead leaves you breathless from start to finish Fear and tension mounting, climaxing to an unfolding of one of the greatest mind f^cks you've ever seen--one that begs a rewind, again and again.

Night of the Living Dead is THE movie to see for any self-professing cinephile or horror fan. A low budget masterpiece, this is the movie that started it all.

31 Days of Horror: Rosemary's Baby (1968)

As psycho-supernatural thrillers go, Rosemary's Baby is tops thanks to a creepy performance by Ruth Gordon and an ethereal one by Mia Farrow. Farrow is really the one to watch. Her degradation through the 2+ hours is remarkable. This cute hopeful darling becomes a waif-like crack user thanks to the spawn of Satan.

Rosemary Woodhouse (Farrow), newlywed and wanting children has just moved into a new apartment in the infamous Bramford building. The Bramford has an unusual history of residents: cannibal killers, Satanist and witches or so says their friend Hutch (Maurice Evans) Still, the young couple thinks Manhattan is the place to be what with Guy's (John Cassvetes) promising TV career. Her neighbors, Roman and Minnie Casevet are a bit too nosy for her liking, but Guy thinks they're harmless. When Rosemary auspiciously becomes pregnant, Rosemary's health takes a turn for the worst. Surrounded by decidedly strange neighbors and odd occurrences, Rosemary's mental and physical health is in great danger.

Roman Polanski {love/hate} directs a perfectly nuanced film with great taste, beautiful detail and solid cast. Ruth Gordon annoys me; but damn, what a freak! Along with Sidney Blackmer, the two play eerie neighbors from hell. Gordon puts in an Oscar-winning performance, I believe.

Farrow makes this movie. She builds paranoia perfectly, slowly, allowing each unusual event to heighten the tension and fear. Polanski further the effect with an angelic focus on Farrow. Everything is light and airy with Rosemary around. In contrast, is the entire cast. Each character has a trail of evil and darkness. The symbolic play of light and dark is amazing.

As Rosemary becomes more and more isolated, the suspense builds. The execution is spot-on. The fear isn't tangible; but there's a consistent 'somethings-not-right' foreboding that just chills to the core. Therein lies the fun. You will watch with an expectation of things jumping out or the baby popping out of the stomach a la Aliens. No, Polanski is too good for that.

Rosemary's Baby is slow burn. It doesn't set out to scare as much as make you squirm. Even now, this movie is the ultimate creep-out.

31 Days of Horror: Psycho (1960)

Alfred Hitchcock was a masterful director. Psycho is certainly one of his defining pictures and a horror classic in its own right.

Marion Crain (Janet Leigh), fed up with the hand that life has dealt her, seizes the opportunity to abscond with $40,000 and start a new life with her lover, Sam. Only 24 hours into a 'life of crime' Marion finds out that it's not just all it's cracked up to be. A series of events during the long drive to California has left the poor girl's nerves short. Capping it off is a torrential rain storm that leads her to an derelict motel in the middle of nowhere. Before long, stealing 40 grand is the least of her problems.

Psycho is much more than the shower scene. Under Hitchcock's direction, the film elements take on a terror like no other. The first viewing is always the most memorable because the film is so unassuming-so simple. Sure, we all 'know' what happens {how can you not, in this day and age}, but it is in Hitchcock's delivery that we find brilliance.

Janet Leigh and Anthony Perkin (Bates) are pitch perfect. Perkins plays out Norman with such nonchalance, right down to the facial tics. Leigh is a nuanced charmer--beautifully mundane. When she meets her demise halfway through, you are equally terrified and sad, such a creature dies a horrible death.

The B&W aspect enhances the film amid all the 'Technicolor' of today. Hitchcock uses it to his advantage. Notice also how he manipulates camera angles and shadows to belie Bates' madness and Crain's deception. I love how he also plays out Bates' mother. And the score can't be overlooked--equally Gothic and haunting, it's a masterful compliment.

Decades later, Pyscho still charms. Without big-budget special effects or whizz-bang technical production, Psycho is flawlessly executed.

31 Days of Horror: The Masque of the Red Death (1962)

What?! Expecting another King adaptation?!

Let's be honest. The chances of you watching this movie are slim. While I like to think you, the reader, give some credence to my reviews, you won't watch this film. Too bad for you.

Without going into a dissertation on why Vincent Price is one of the best actors to grace the screen, let me tell you why The Masque of the Red Death is a classic must see.

The spelling alone should intrigue you--no, seriously, it should. Vincent Price gives a masterful performance as Prince Prospero. As villagers take refuge in Propero's castle, the diabolical prince 'invites' refugees to a masked ball only to indulge in very lethal games.

Prospero can not accept that a world filled with so much pain and evil is governed by a loving God. Cold and calculating, Price embodies satanic cruelty as he lords about smugly inflicting pain on the innocent.

Director Roger Corman achieves a pitch-perfect atmosphere of eccentricity and macabre. He builds complexity with subtle symbolism. The stunning use of color speaks for itself. Corman add layer of layer of richness to Price's bold performance. It's beautiful to behold.

This movie continues to fascinate me year after year. Building to a riveting conclusion, The Masque of the Red Death is well executed horror that you just don't find any more.

"Forgive them? If my hound bites my hand after I have fed and caressed him, should I allow him to go undisciplined?"