Fright Club: Horrific Families

The family that slays together stays together, isn’t that what they say? That was certainly a lot of the fun in Ready or Not, You’re Next, Frightmare and more. But what are the best examples of horrific families working together in horror movies? Brandon Thomas joins George with the full list!

5. The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

Wes Craven’s original Hills – cheaply made and poorly acted – is a surprisingly memorable, and even more surprisingly alarming flick. Craven’s early career is marked by a contempt for both characters and audience, and his first two horror films ignored taboos, mistreating everyone on screen and in the theater. In the style of Deliverance meets Mad MaxHills was an exercise in pushing the envelope, and it owes what lasting popularity it has to its shocking violence and Michael Berryman’s nightmarish mug.

The Hills Have Eyes is not for the squeamish. People are raped, burned alive, eaten alive, eaten dead, and generally ill-treated.

In fact, Craven’s greatest triumph is in creating tension via a plot device so unreasonably gruesome no audience would believe a film could go through with it. The freaks kidnap a baby with plans to eat her. But by systematically crushing taboo after taboo, the unthinkable becomes plausible, and the audience grows to fear that the baby will actually be eaten. It’s not the kind of accomplishment you’d want to share with your mom, but in terms of genre control, it is pretty good.

4. Frailty (2001)

Director Paxton stars as a widowed country dad awakened one night with an epiphany. He understands now that he and his sons have been called by God to kill demons.

Frailty manages to subvert every horror film expectation by playing right into them.

Brent Hanley’s sly screenplay evokes such nostalgic familiarity – down to a Dukes of Hazzard reference – and Paxton’s direction makes you feel entirely comfortable in these common surroundings. Then the two of them upend everything – repeatedly – until it’s as if they’ve challenged your expectations, biases, and your own childhood to boot.

Paxton crafts a morbidly compelling tale free from irony, sarcasm, or judgment and full of darkly sympathetic characters. It’s a surprisingly strong feature directorial debut from a guy who once played a giant talking turd.

3. Where the Devil Roams (2023)

There is macabre beauty in every frame of Where the Devil Roams, the latest offbeat horror from the Adams family. The film was co-directed and co-written by its three lead actors – Toby Poser, John Adams and Zelda Adams – who are also a family. ike their earlier efforts, Where the Devil Roams concerns itself with life on the fringes, rock music, and the family dynamic.

The ensemble convinces, particularly the sideshow performers, but the film’s most enduring charm is its vintage portrait look. It’s a gorgeous movie, the filmmakers creating the beautifully seedy atmosphere ideal to the era and setting.

Where the Devil Roams feels expansive and open, but like anything else in the sideshow, that’s all trickery. There’s more happening in this film than they let on, which is why the final act feels simultaneously “a ha!” and “WTF?!” You won’t see it coming, but in retrospect, it was there all along.

2. We Are What We Are (2010)

Give writer/director Jorge Michel Grau credit, he took a fresh approach to the cannibalism film. In a quiet opening sequence, a man dies in a mall. It happens that this is a family patriarch and his passing leaves the desperately poor family in shambles. While their particular quandary veers spectacularly from expectations, there is something primal and authentic about it.

It’s as if a simple relic from a hunter-gatherer population evolved separately but within the larger urban population, and now this little tribe is left without a leader. An internal power struggle begins to determine the member most suited to take over as the head of the household, and therefore, there is some conflict and competition – however reluctant – over who will handle the principal task of the patriarch: that of putting meat on the table.

The family dynamic is fascinating, every glance weighted and meaningful, every closed door significant. Grau draws eerie, powerful performances across the board, and forever veers in unexpected directions.

1. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

It is around the dinner table that a guest gets to see the true family dynamics. Sally Hardesty’s getting a good look. Like a really close up, veiny eyed look.

The family meal is the scene that grounds Tobe Hooper’s 1974 masterpiece. Suddenly it’s a family with a lived-in vibe and a backstory. And another person’s face. And a metal basin and a nearly mummified old man.

We’ve met the brothersk. Edwin Neal’s already had his chance to nab the spotlight in the van, and of course Gunnar Hansen’s the star of the show. But at the table, the cook, Jim Siedow, gets to dig in and create an unforgettable character.


God Defend New Zealand

Prime Minister

by Rachel Willis

New Zealand’s former prime minister, Jacinda Ardern, is the subject of directors Lindsay Utz and Michelle Walshe’s documentary, Prime Minister.

The film starts with Ardern’s election as leader for her country’s Labour Party, seeking to rescue it from gloomy poll numbers. That she actually wins the position of Prime Minister just a few weeks later comes as a bit of a shock, most of all to Ardern.

Ardern is an interesting central figure for the film. She was only 37 when elected, and even more fascinatingly, was pregnant at the time. She becomes the second woman in history to give birth while in a position of government leadership at that level.

But the documentary leans into the personal over the political, seeking to humanize Ardern and understand her approach to governance. It captures intimate moments in which Ardern gives voice to those emotions that leaders often have to hide from public view.

However, Utz and Walshe never dig too deeply into any one subject. Prime Minister neither focuses long enough on her political leadership nor her family life. At times, it even drags as it hops from one event to the next.

That’s not to say that the events that took place during Ardern’s time in office were without consequence. While leaders may always experience tumultuous events over the course of their tenure, Ardern’s seems especially marked by tragedy.

The film picks up speed in the second half, as Ardern faces an unprecedented event with the arrival of Covid-19 virus to New Zealand. The filmmakers devote the most time and attention here, rightfully, as it becomes Ardern’s biggest challenge as Prime Minister.

If the point of the documentary is to humanize those we elect to power, then it hits the nail on the head. Ardern herself opens the film with a plea to humanize those with whom we disagree. It’s a poignant message in a world that seems increasingly fraught with political turmoil.

It’s unfortunate that message will likely be lost to those who most need to hear it.

Mommy Can You Hear Me?

Echo Valley

by George Wolf

The barn roof at the Echo Valley horse ranch is bad. Like $9,000 bad. And when Kate (Julianne Moore) makes the trip to her ex-husband Richard’s (Kyle MacLachlan) office for some financial help, we get some nicely organic character development.

In those few important minutes, director Michael Pearce and writer Brad Ingelsby let us know Kate and Richard’s daughter Claire may have some serious issues, and that Kate may be enabling her.

From there, we can guess that Claire (Sydney Sweeney) will be showing up soon.

She does, and says she’s clean. She just needs for Mom to buy her another new phone while she breaks away from her boyfriend Ryan (Edmund Donovan). But of course Ryan shows up, followed by their dealer Jackie (Domhnall Gleeson – a nicely subtle brand of menacing), and it isn’t long before a frantic Claire comes home wearing someone else’s blood.

The somewhat pulpy, kinda noir-ish pieces aren’t exactly new, but Pearce (Beast) and the terrific ensemble always find frayed edges that keep you invested. We’re set up to pull for the put-upon Kate, then continually given reasons to doubt that very support.

Does Kate’s aversion to tough love make her an easy mark? Maybe, but maybe Kate’s smarter than anyone expects. Especially Jackie.

Pearce keeps the pace sufficiently taut and supplies some hypnotic shots of a countryside that comes to play an important part in the mystery – as does modern tech. Instead of copping out with a 90s timestamp, Echo Valley leans into the texts and tracking. True, the resolve might not be water tight digitally, but the timeliness gives the tension some relatable urgency.

It’s also refreshing to find a streaming release that doesn’t continually cater to lapsed attention spans. From that opening meeting in Richard’s office, Echo Valley assumes you’re settled in for the ride, all the way through a rewarding deconstruction of events and a final shot that cements what the film was getting at all along.

Proper Credit

Materialists

by Hope Madden

Just two years ago, filmmaker Celine Song produced a breathtakingly original romance movies in Past Lives. With that film, she delivered a love triangle of sorts where no character felt cliched, no choice felt obvious, and every moment felt achingly true.

Now she sets her sights on something decidedly more mainstream, but that only makes her instinct for inverting cinematic cliché in search of authenticity that much more impressive.

Lucy (Dakota Johnson) is a skilled matchmaker at a high-end Manhattan boutique. When she attends the wedding of clients she introduced, she runs into her ex, John (Chris Evans). He’s handsome, thoughtful, clearly into her, and he’s catering. Actually, he’s a waiter working for the caterer.

Lucy also meets the groom’s brother, Harry (Pedro Pascal). In the parlance of Lucy’s profession, Harry is a unicorn: handsome, wealthy, smart, and single.

Immediately, we know this movie. Lucy’s job is to broker relationships. Check boxes. Create partnerships. And the film is going to teach her that a good match can’t hold a candle to the unruly nature of love.

It has been done to death. But the path Song takes to get there, and the insights and realities she explores along the route, never cease to fascinate.

Characters use the words value and risk a lot, terms that have a specific meaning in business but actually mean something quite different in the human setting. It’s interesting, in a society where women have agency and financial means, how different the vocabulary of love can be. Listening to women turn men into commodities, ordering as if from a buffet or build-a-bear, is simultaneously funny and horrifying.

Of course, Lucy has men for clients, too, and Song is quick to remind us of the entrenched language of objectification and conquest. And the different definitions of risk.

She also never asks us to root against anyone. Harry’s a gem. John’s a good dude. The one person whose flaws are explored is Lucy, and Johnson’s reflective, quiet delivery is characteristically on point, allowing those flaws to draw us closer to the character.

Materialists isn’t perfect, and to a degree, Song submits too much to formula. But the way she works within those confines is often magical.

Thanks for the Memories

The Life of Chuck

by George Wolf

Near the end of The Life of Chuck, a character enters a room and is careful to test the floor as he steps in. Organic dialog earlier in the film has let us know why he’s doing this, so no voiceover narration explaining the action is necessary.

This moment stands out, because it’s one of the few where viewers are given space to think for themselves.

This is a film that is impressively crafted, with an immensely likable cast and a broad, generically inspiring message that many people will be quick to embrace. Writer/director Mike Flanagan adapts the Stephen King novella with such earnest polish that the film can leave you feeling guilty for not liking it – and I didn’t.

Flanagan, who has already done stellar King adaptations (Doctor Sleep, Gerald’s Game) and whose own great work (Midnight Mass, The Haunting of Hill House) can have a distinct King feel, keeps the story’s reverse chronology intact.

In chapter one, teacher Marty Anderson (Chiwtel Ejiofor) and his ex-wife Felicia (Karen Gillan) try to make sense of repeated ads thanking Charles Krantz for “39 great years!” as the world seems to be ending.

From there, we see how the buttoned-up accountant “Chuck” Krantz (Tom Hiddleston) learned to rediscover his love of dancing.

And finally, we go back to two different periods in the life of young Chuck (Benjamin Pajek and later, Jacob Tremblay), as he’s raised by his caring grandparents (Mark Hamill and Mia Sara) to find joy in dance and fear of the cupola upstairs.

It’s wonderful to see Sara back in a feature for the first time in 14 years, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear Oscar talk for Hamill. The film is often warm hearted and lovely, but the familiarity of the cosmic profundities and the constant narration from Nick Offerman reduces its overall effect to that of a pop-up audiobook.

Causes, effects and motivations are provided at nearly turn, diluting potential magic down to mundane and undercutting the power of the film’s eventual sleight-of-hand reveal.

It’s a twist you may see coming, you may not. But you will understand the surface deep lesson being sold. The Life of Chuck leaves no room for nuance or interpretation, just take your dose of bland inspiration and move on.

So yeah, thanks Chuck. I guess.

Fire in the Sky

How to Train Your Dragon

by Hope Madden

If it weren’t for Toy Story, How to Train Your Dragon would be remembered as the finest animated trilogy ever made. The tale of outsider love, parental expectations, physical limitations and dragons was as emotionally satisfying as it was visually stunning. So, it was both disappointing and inevitable to learn that it would be given the live-action treatment.

Dean DeBlois, co-writer and co-director of the animated features, returns with a surprisingly game adaptation.

Mason Thames is Hiccup, the puny, brainy son of Viking chieftain Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler, reprising his role from the animated series). A disappointment as a Viking, Hiccup eventually finds that his weakness (empathy) is, indeed, his greatest strength. Next, to convince the thick-headed Vikings that the dragons they fight and fear are really, really cool.

And they are cool.

Hiccup’s new bestie, Toothless—the last of the Night Furies—is as beautifully, charmingly, mischievously feline as fans of the original remember. Wisely, DeBlois and team lean the balance of dragons more toward live action. They’re detailed and intimidating—decidedly less kid-friendly than their animated counterparts. One of them is always on fire, which is badass.

The ragtag gang of Vikings-in-training (Julian Dennison, Bronwyn James, Harry Trevaldwyn, and Gabriel Howell) endear and amuse. Likewise, Nick Frost cuts a fun, comical figure as wizened old Gobber, Viking trainer.

Butler, who brought power and pathos to the cartoon, is perhaps even more effective in the flesh (though under pounds of makeup and prosthetics). His confused affection, misdirected pride and aching tenderness lend real humanity to the tale.

Too bad the leads can’t muster the same. Thames and Nico Parker, as Hiccup’s rival/love interest Astrid, share no real chemistry. Parker lacks the fire the role calls for, and Thames can’t mine his fish-out-of-water moments for comedy.

DuBlois also inexplicably cuts the legs from under the original film’s all-is-lost moment, rushing to emotional safety and limiting the power of the film’s breathless climax.

But whatever its flaws, once How to Train Your Dragon is airborne, it’s pure cinema. DuBlois takes to the skies with an untamed wonder that makes the ride both real and magical. Though it may not be the masterpiece of its animated predecessor, this live action dragon adventure is a worthwhile trip.

Good Night and Good Luck

Best Wishes to All

by Hope Madden

Filmmaker Yûta Shimotsu has seen a few Takashi Miike films. Everyone should. He’s one of the world’s greatest and most prolific genre filmmakers, so that’s not a drag on the Best Wishes to All (also known as Best Regards to All) writer/director.

His first feature follows a nursing student (Kotone Furukawa) visiting her grandparents over break. They’ve gotten odd. Or have they always been odd and she’s just blocked it out more effectively until now?

Shimotsu’s film, co-written with Rumi Katuka and based on his own 2022 short, is a nimble little beast. What begins as a reckoning with the horrors of aging twists into something else altogether. And then, something else. Because what the unnamed granddaughter learns is that her family is keeping a secret from her. But what’s even more disturbing than the secret itself is the nonchalance with which it’s held, and that the secret does not belong to her family alone.

The filmmaker mines unease, even queasy dread, surrounding obligation to an older generation, the notion of one day turning into that same monstrous burden, or even worse, the realization that you never were anything other than a monster yourself.

Stylistically, Best Wishes to All recalls some of Miike’s more absurd horrors, Gozu in particular. But Shimotsu stitches the absurdity of Gozu or The Happiness of the Katakuris or even Ichi the Killer to pieces of grittier horror. Not quite Audition, but in that zip code. But he can’t strike a tone that can carry the two extremes.

The grotesquerie is always in service of a tale that’s more folk horror than body horror. This doesn’t always work, but it’s never less than interesting.

Kurukawa is delightfully absorbing as the obedient granddaughter utterly gobsmacked by her grandparents’ behavior. What appears to townsfolk as naiveté actually mirrors the audience’s horrified confusion, making the poor girl all the more empathetic.

But what is it, exactly, that’s expected of her? And why? Best Wishes to All is frustratingly unclear in terms of the narrative’s underlying mythology. This limits the satisfaction of the climax and robs the film’s final image of its necessary impact.

It’s a weird one, though, and certainly entertaining. Shimotsu can’t quite pull it all off, but it’s fun even as it falls apart.

Mommy Issues on Steroids

The Matriarch

by Brooklyn Ewing

Have you ever found yourself gripping the edge of your seat while watching a movie? Well, Jayden Creighton’s The Matriarch had me holding on for dear life. 

The film kicks off when 13 year old Missy Taylor, (Juliette Greenfield) kills her addict mother’s nasty boyfriend in self defense, and is subsequently terrorized by her very own mother all night long. This horror thriller offers up some incredible cat and mouse moments that had me yelling at the screen. 

Fans of The Evil Dead, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Shining will love spotting Creighton’s horror homages. I found myself excitedly watching for more influences as the film progressed. If you love the tension in movies like Hush or Don’t Breathe, then you will absolutely fall in love with The Matriarch

Creighton created a mother we don’t want to love, and it was a blast rooting for Missy as she does everything in her power to survive the night. Newcomer Greenfield knocks it out of the park. Taking on such strong material and really going for it is hard for any actor, and she nailed it.

Kate Logan tackles her character Annette, the mother, like a monster. If you love the jacked-up delivery of Bruce Campbell and Jack Nicholson, then get ready to see Logan take it there. She’s a true talent who isn’t afraid to push this movie into the absurd and terrifying. It’s fun to watch her work. 

The Matriarch features a killer score that reminded me of classics like The Evil Dead, and a lot of 90s and early 2000s horror. It moves the already quick paced flick to full fledged heart attack mode. This would be a really fun movie to watch in the dark with a group of friends who scream during great jump scares. 

If you have Mommy issues, or just love a great game of hide and seek on the big screen, then The Matriarch is a do not miss.