YOU SAY CARMUL,

I SAY CARAMEL

… PART 1.

a pick six

by Hunter Jon

Here are my six favourite horror segments from anthology movies.

(I’ve included the appropriate amount of honourable mentions)

from CAT’S EYE (1985)

I think this is what most people remember from this one. In fact, if you’ve only ever seen the poster or promotional material, you might assume that this segment is the whole movie. It’s simply that strong and memorable.

It’s also a delightful time capsule: a young Drew, an original screenplay by King, and an antagonist delightfully (and creepily) brought to life practically, pre-CG.

from TRICK ‘R TREAT (2007)

Twist endings, which you’ll mostly find in this genre, often backfire. What’s meant to be inventive and unexpected is usually boring and predictable. This movie alone features a few of those. But that only makes me appreciate this segment all the more. Not only did I genuinely not see the ending coming, but it did what I like twists to do - make you reconsider everything that came before it and walk away with a very different understanding.

Oh, and it’s all very well shot and acted and blah blah blah.

from TALES FROM THE CRYPT (1972)

“Psycho” begins with one crime and then gets interrupted by another. It’s a tricky narrative turn to pull off. The Coens are good at it. But to do so in such a short segment, let alone all in one location, is something else. 

Just when you think the Christmas setting is merely to add atmosphere, its pay-off is so damn logical and obvious that you can’t help but smile.

Collins’ casting is particularly inspired.

from THE ABCs OF DEATH (2012)

We often see our nightmares acted out in the horror genre, but rarely do we see our fantasies so shrewdly brought to life. A simple concept, to be sure, but, be honest with yourself, you’ve thought about it. Maybe even dreamt it was possible. I know I have. Regardless - it’s an extremely private desire acknowledged and brought to life in a wildly gruesome way. If you ask me, that’s good horror.

from TWILIGHT ZONE: THE MOVIE (1983)

It may not be one of the official segments, but it’s by far my favourite part of the movie. It’s a gag that spends so long getting to the jump-scare punchline you give up tensely anticipating its arrival and just enjoy the ride with these guys. And there’s a lot to enjoy: the sing-along, the game, their chemistry. It’s all infectious fun.

Sure, it works out of context as a stand alone piece, but it works even better as what it is - one of the best opening sequences ever.

from DEAD OF NIGHT (1945)

Another segment so memorable it takes up much of the movie’s reputation. 

The idea of a ‘master and their dummy’ being used to spook definitely didn’t originate here, but this certainly influenced any (and there have been many) tellings that came after and remains, in my opinion, the best of them.

It was just the right time to tell such a story, as the black & white photography and general tone of the period heightens any and all eeriness. 

Redgrave’s performance deserves as much credit here as the dummy’s design.

from TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE (1990)

Contemporary spins on these kinds of ancient tales usually lose their lustre somewhere in the transition. But this brings an irresistibly sexy, modern mood to the table that makes the romantic element that much more engrossing and the fantasy element all the more startling and scary.

It doesn’t just stand out because everything surrounding it is sub-par - it stands out because it is so well made in every regard. Although, it’s another one that benefits greatly from its era, as the practical effects and smoky 35mm style add so much (I cringe to think of this shot digitally and using CGI).

Remar flourishes against-type as a sensitive, artistic lover. Having him voluntarily break his vow out of love (as opposed to it being beaten out of him) makes the ending all the more heartbreaking.

from TRILOGY OF TERROR (1975)

This could have been about nothing. Scary with no substance. Your typical evil doll tale. Thanks to Matheson, that’s not the case. Instead, he brings the torture and misery of living under someone else’s thumb to life in a truly clever way. Sometimes the only way to escape the clutches of evil, in this case being emotionally trapped by an overbearing, controlling and domineering mother, is to become someone else. Someone tougher. Someone who can fight back. But you’re probably going to have to go to hell and back to make that change.

It’s my favourite Karen Black performance. The script calls for her to talk to herself throughout, which is an accurate and astute aspect of loneliness, but hardly ever done because it’s so hard to pull off without seeming ridiculous. Yet, she does it flawlessly.

The seeing-less-is-scarier “Jaws” technique is all the more impressive when you remind yourself that they made this before “Jaws” was released.

The final visual and what it implies are truly the stuff of nightmares.

from THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD (1971)

I can’t think of very much to say about this one, which is odd considering how I regard it so highly.

Maybe I’ll just say this: not that I’d like it to be, but, of all the segments mentioned here, I’m most surprised that this one hasn’t been expanded into a full-length feature. It’s that deliciously dense with story and meaning.

from CREEPSHOW 2 (1987)

King is king. This is so slight, so simple, so seemingly easy. But you didn’t write it. He did. And like Matheson, he makes this about something real. It actually has nothing to do with killer sludge… it’s about being the other guy. I love and appreciate that.

The moment when he thinks she’s moaning in pleasure, only to reveal (and what a reveal!) the exact opposite goes beyond a scream. You often hear “it’s funny ‘cause it’s true”. Well, that bit is scary because it’s true.

from FOUR ROOMS (1995)

You could (and will) easily argue that this isn’t a 'horror' segment. But I consider Ted’s entire night to be one long, living nightmare, and this the chilling (and thrilling) climax. So it not only makes the list but reigns supreme.

Like most of Q’s stuff, it takes its cue from something old. But, as is often the case, he goes ahead and does it better than what it’s based on.

Hitchcock once famously set-up a theoretical scene: there’s a bomb under the table about to blow. If you don’t tell the audience it’s there, they will jump when it goes off. If you tell them it’s there, the tension as to when it will explode will drive the audience mad. Y’know, in a fun way. Tarantino usually goes the latter route (he tells us that Mr. Orange is a cop pretty early on and we obviously know that the Basterds aren’t German as they enter the bar). But here, he builds tension the other way around.

He rightfully commits to the perspective that the other three segments have established - everything is from Ted’s point of view. He walks into this room having no clue that there’s a ticking bomb under the table, so to speak, so neither should we. Watching his mood rollercoast as the so-called ‘bomb’ is exposed is not only wonderful writing, it’s a wonderful piece of acting. A piece that is beautifully capped with Ted’s unprecedented happy ending. 

We’ve been rooting for Ted this whole night, and Tarantino gives us what we want, having his final walk to the elevator be a gleefully triumphant one while someone else cleans up the horrific mess for once.

I also just love how Jennifer Beals pops back up here, allowing her to perfectly deliver the summative line, “Hell of a night, huh Ted?” The best.