Week Two: "If You See a Faded Sign by the Side of the Road That Says, "Fifteen Miles to the LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVECRAAAAAAAAAFT!", Day 14 (Oct 10)
Adapted from
The Case of Charles Dexter Ward
Few careers in the worlds of both science-fiction and horror filmmaking have elicited as many pained "what ifs" as that of Dan O'Bannon, the deeply talented screenwriter and all too occasionally a director whose lifelong love of all things genre fiction would be in turn the fuel for some of cinema's most enduring images. Chief among them, of course, is the major hand he played in the creation of the Alien franchise, both for its story as well as a very important discovery he made when he managed to get his previous almost-collaborator HR Giger involved with the creation of the titular creature for one of the greatest of all movie monsters to ever come to life on the screen. Though not as widely acknowledged, he also turned in one of the all-time great zombie films in
The Return of the Living Dead, a shot of punk rock anarchy that the shambling genre needed at the time, cleverly mixing riotous humor with genuinely bloodcurdling horror to terrific effect and created one of the major milestones of 80s horror filmmaking. Yet even with those successes under his belt, as well as writing the screenplay for
Total Recall, he would get the chance to direct only one more film (this one, in fact) before work started to dry up for him. And behind the scenes, his lifelong battle with Crohn's disease raged on, its key role in creating one of the most shocking scenes in all of mainstream horror films doing little to assuage the pain he had been feeling for his entire adult life, claiming him in 2009.
Even before getting the chance to directly adapt one of Lovecraft's works, the influence the author had on O'Bannon was undeniable. The ancient machinations of civilizations long since crumbled yet alive in the worst possible way powered the entirety of the mythos for
Alien. Though he had disowned it due to a dispute with his longtime writing partner Ronald Shusett at the time, the little seen yet underappreciated
Dead & Buried felt very much like a precursor to a direct adaptation of one of Lovecraft's works concerning resurrection, with its somber seaside setting and the genuine dread of not knowing just who is your ally, even after all the years you think you've known them for. It is of little surprise that once he finally got the chance to work on one of Lovecraft's own tales, and one of his most famous ones at that, that O'Bannon was already well equipped to tackle such an adaptation. In what could only be described as more cosmic injustice for him simply existing, O'Bannon found himself up against producers not really getting why he was looking to make something more character focused and would eventually recut the film against his wishes once it was in the can. Throw in a tumultuous distribution deal that wound up having to sell the film outright to a DTV company due to the production company dying, and it's hard not to see O'Bannon as the protagonist in his own Lovecraft tale: helpless and powerless in the face of forces not meant for human minds to wield.
Yet even in its compromised form, largely as a result of cutting down on a lot of character building in an attempt to get the film to rush towards the gorier moments, it's not hard to see what O'Bannon had been going for here, doing well to stay rather faithful to the core of the strange tale of Charles Dexter Ward and his predecessor Joseph Curwen while also expanding it to give the film's story more of a emotional investment beyond stark terror once the pieces reveal themselves in their malformed glory. Even cut down, it's a surprisingly patient film in terms of setup, giving us quite a bit of time with our protagonist John March as his inquiries into the Charles Dexter Ward case start spelling out something far more sinister than someone wanting to be left alone to their own devices. The cuts do feel more pronounced when it regards March and Ward's wife Claire, having all the makings of a romantic relationship yet never feeling like any of it would ever be consummated in any way, but there is a nice emphasis on March's growing weariness and dread the more and more he gets involved in the matter at hand that manifests itself quite nicely in a nightmare sequence that acts as both his fears getting the best of him with all he had endured up to that point while also serving as a kind of omen should he choose to pursue it to what he can only pray is a logical conclusion. John Terry was an interesting choice for the lead here, giving March an air of suaveness that could have become insufferable had he not also invested a good amount of his role into the underlying fear he has that March has not yet quite understood the depths of, giving him a lot of intrigue.
Of course, the other side of the equation for the film's story must get a special highlight, as Chris Sarandon's turn as both Ward and Curwen gives him the opportunity to turn on his trademark villainous streak, someone you absolutely love to hate with just how good looking he is when it gets put up against the absolute depths of horror that he's more than willing to stoop to in his quest for a kind of immortality. Though not as prominently featured despite the dual role, Sarandon's presence elevates the film immensely with the diabolical edge he gives Curwen that makes him a threat even when he's safely off-screen and in a straight-jacket, while also giving Ward a kind of accidental conspirator quality that gives the story a good bit of drama as he realizes all too late just how over his own head he winds up in the end. It makes for good contrast on a story level, which the filmmaking follows suit with the first half being more of an outright detective story before quietly building up towards the terrors that wait underneath the old Ward estate, an extended bit of horror that knows damn well how effective darkness can be to telling its dark secrets as O'Bannon and his crew work marvels in letting the mind fill in all of the horrible blanks that the unlit margins hide, giving you just enough of the abominations for you to chew on to make things so very much worse than you want.
There are definitely issues beyond the re-cutting that feel inherent to the material, including the gory yet conventional climax that seems a little too pat and tied off with a ribbon, even if it is surprisingly faithful to the original novella in that regard (Lovecraft, for all his strengths as a writer, did often run into the problem of knowing how to end stories), but it speaks to how much of O'Bannon's intent and desire wound up on the screen regardless that this felt like a damn good adaptation regardless. Though not the first time the story had been adapted for a feature film, as the strange genesis of
The Haunted Palace of Roger Corman's Poe Cycle can attest to, this absolutely did feel like the first time that anyone really get what Lovecraft was going for in his prose and found a satisfying way of conveying it visually. It's certainly gory and monstrous enough for horror hounds to enjoy on that level, but the gristle and grue don't overwhelm the chills behind the very idea of the tale itself, letting the viewer ponder the possibility of resurrection in all its terrible glory without needing abominations to do all the work for them. One can only imagine if O'Bannon had lived long enough to be able to cobble together a more definitive director's cut with the footage that was excised, even from faultier sources, since it's not hard to imagine how this could have easily been a real gem for not only Lovecraft on film, but for 90s horror films in general by very capably splitting the difference between visceral thrills and quiet dread. As it stands, then, O'Bannon at least was able to produce a qualified success that certainly succeeds more often than not.
15/38
Adapted from... well, it's right there, isn't it?
In my review of The Resurrected, I talked at length about Dan O'Bannon's career and how much of a shame it was that he didn't do more before his death. The very much alive Richard Stanley, on the other hand, cultivated a very different kind of reputation that led to the gloriously insane behind-the-scenes stories of the adaptation of
The Island of Dr. Moreau that he was once slated... nay, even destined to direct, only to be fired shortly into the start of cameras rolling, sealing the film's fate as
one that is far, far, far more fun to talk about it than it could ever be to watch it. In a sense, losing his big dream project was about the best thing that could have happened to Stanley, as he secured a very different kind of legacy after that, even as the experience shook him so bad that it would over a decade before he'd even seriously consider directing a feature film again. After making a splash with this first two films, it was hard to imagine that even in his undisciplined manner that he'd ever stay away from his profession and his passion. And what better way to stage a comeback than to take the opportunity to adapt one of Lovecraft's best-known tales?
Frequently adapted before to various degrees of success,
The Colour Out of Space often gets throw into the conversation of being Lovecraft's scariest story of all. Divorced largely from the mythos he had otherwise crafted throughout his other tales, it nevertheless bore all the trademarks of his gift for premise and atmosphere, while also throwing in the nasty detail of this extraterrestrial entity that wreaked havoc on an otherwise fine family for no other reason than being whatever it is, keeping it a truly alien menace. The cosmic hopelessness was perhaps at an all-time peak with his prose throughout, painting a portrait of annihilation quite unlike anything that came before or since. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the bleakness of the material made it a tricky proposition on film in terms of adaptation, since it was a tough sell for a studio to have an entire family, a well-meaning one at that, be completely obliterated without a clear idea of what exactly was targeting them, leading to a lot of rewritten endings that spared at least one member of the family. At the risk of spoilers for a largely faithful adaptation, Stanley here isn't so skittish about those details.
Taking much of the original premise and choosing to compress the events of the film from the year the short story covered to a period that can be best described as a week and change, Stanley and company do rather good work in staying on course throughout. The first person narration is even preserved to a limited degree, acting as bookends for the story with the surveyor playing an important role throughout. But as was the case originally, the real story centers on the Gardner family, as we follow them down the spiral that they're soon to slide down when a meteorite hits their lawn and produces something that no one can properly describe. Early on, the groundwork is laid that the Color is to each person a different object or sensation altogether, giving each character a unique insight into what kind of effect it's having on them, which leads to some chilling moments where the sanity slips long enough to cause a little more damage than absentmindedness or coarser words among each other. It makes for good interplay once events start ramping up in increasingly graphic ways, but even as doom lies certain on the horizon, the film doesn't go entirely for full-bore visual stimulus until it absolutely needs to, making for a surprisingly restrained experience from a director who was once so well-known for starting at 11 with his films. Much will be made of the visual makeup of the film regardless, resembling a thriftier version of
Annihilation with its intense colors and horribly mutated wildlife, but Stanley does well by Lovecraft's legacy to make the insanity much more than sick special effects or blinding light shows until they absolutely have to be.
On paper, there is a lot of fertile ground to cover here that Lovecraft didn't get to himself, as there's an inspired choice to make things not as rosy among the Gardners this time, centering on the uncertainty of matriarch Theresa being a recent cancer survivor that places a lot of stress on the rest of the family, especially with two older children nearing adulthood and a child who is very much not sure what to make of it all himself. It makes for a dynamic that keeps things quite interesting throughout, with pent-up frustrations and anxiety playing into the progression of their alien affliction. But I do wonder if the casting director here may have not gotten it right here, as something seems off with the dynamic in that it's hard to believe any of these folks to be related. It's hard to pin down for me exactly what the issue is, as the performances are generally good from all of the players, even as Nicolas Cage can slip into a bit of the old
Vampire's Kiss accent when the crazy starts to really ramp up for his Nathan, but I can't help but feel a certain level of detachment from how their relationship is portrayed prior to the meteorite crashing that makes their fates a little less affecting than they might have been otherwise. It's certainly possible that Stanley is still trying to figure that part out after all this time, since it's an issue with his previous films, though it is admittedly less pronounced here than it was on those films, and the actors do engage with the material quite well.
Stanley did make this his own, as even with with his faithfulness to the source material, he ventures out into some really striking territory that wind up eliciting very strong reactions, including a particular instance of body horror that might already be a legit contender for one of the most visually and thematically disturbing instances ever committed to film. Even the bizarre touches like turning the Gardners into would-be alpaca farmers at the story's onset winds up feeling less like quirk for quirk's sake and more of an endearing detail that nevertheless turns out exactly the way that you knew it was going to. It's tricky thing to balance those elements, and for the most part, Stanley does quite well for himself for a hell of a cinematic experience. As I understand it, he has his sights set on adapting
The Dunwich Horror as his next film, and if he's able to get as much out of that story as he did here, we might be in store for something truly unwatchable for all the right reasons for a change. Welcome back, Richard: it seems like you were missed all along.
16/38