directed by rizal mantovani
mvp pictures
Basically the equivalent of the wave of American teen-idol horror flicks from the ’90s – except that it would have garnered a PG-13 rating – this Indonesian production features a 17-year-old female lead playing opposite an MTV VJ/pop singer. It’s a fairly typical ghost story, this time based on Malay folklore, involving a female entity whose spirit lives in a tree (in the cemetery next to the boarding house, natch) and is summoned into this world by the intonation of durma, a form of traditional Javanese song poem. In this particular case, the Kuntilanak enters our realm via antique mirrors. An occasional barely seen twitch might startle you, and the first couple times the ghastly spirit enters (or exits, I guess) from the mirror are pretty effective, but in the end, this picture is middling at best. It spawned two sequels, because of course it did, and a 2018 reboot – all from the same director, which may be a new world record.
why did i watch this movie?
I came across this title while reading up on cultural influences in the other Indonesian films I’ve watched recently, and figured I may as well take in another one.
should you watch this movie?
Plenty of others are better.
highlight and low point
The fact that the conduit for the dangerous spirit becomes its summoner through no fault of her own is a nice touch, and subtle comical moments here and there (and some not so subtle) help keep things grounded. Little tension is involved in the resolution of what should be a major conflict, however, and the not altogether surprising ending doesn’t carry quite enough weight, either.
All right, so retconning this flick to be the sort-of “sequel” to the 1974 original makes sense. It’s at least half great: the first 45 minutes of this black horror comedy work well as a pastiche of the first go-round, with the added amusement of more modern horror motifs … which are basically updates of the original’s template anyway. Both unsettling and darkly humorous – much as the debut was meant to be, and 
Well now, THIS is an unpleasant little flick. I mean, nothing in this picture is going to make a viewer feel very good, unless that viewer has got some serious issues. A few things may make the viewer laugh, sure, but this is a movie that is based around psychological problems brought about by severe child abuse, which it is suggested is itself a manifestation of psychological and/or emotional disability, and which itself is manifested in cruel, ugly, sadistic, misogynistic murder. (If you doubt that description, it involves a special room clad in stainless steel.) Oh, and extreme social dysfunction is added in just for kicks. On the upside, it’s got a disco theme underlying everything, and hallucinated ambulant corpses. Effectively dismal, better than I expected, and a reminder of how much I generally seem to enjoy films from this hopeless and beaten-down time period.
as I thought Donny the murderous lunatic’s social awkwardness was portrayed brilliantly. In fact, I generally enjoyed Bobby’s presence throughout the proceedings,
though I remain baffled by the fact that when he believes Donny is in danger, he fetches local parson Father Gerrity and not, you know, the police.
Wow, to say this is not what I was expecting from this movie might be the understatement of the year, at least in terms of this blog and its content. And while you’d think it would be hard for a horror flick to go wrong with demonic possession, this one manages to do so, repeatedly. No, it’s not without its charms – it’s so relentlessly absurd that it’s actually quite enjoyable, though presumably not as intentioned. Terminally silly, with a wafer-thin plot, Wikipedia claims this movie was granted a “special jury prize” by a Paris film festival, which as near as I can tell appears to be some completely fabricated bullshit. I will grant that the solution/cure for the demonic possession in this story is rather original. 
I’m going to reference it again, so let’s just go ahead with a shout-out to Hanna-Barbera: They knew what they were doing when they produced Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? You see, when viewing productions such as this somewhat lethargic attempt at a murder mystery, tropes commonplace to those cartoons continually arise. Here, dashes of occult nonsense and some bitchin’ early ’80s Southern Cal touches are added to the template. A scare or two possibly may be found somewhere in this tale of (ominous pause) madness, but you’ll most likely be too busy laughing at some of the affectations – or more probably starting to doze off as the plot chugs along repetitiously. It could have worked, I suppose, but there just isn’t a whole lot to work with, to its detriment. Oh – hackneyed freeze-frame “surprise” at the ending. Woo-hoo.
Isn’t it always rewarding to come across a production in which one literally can see the wires attached to objects in special FX shots? And shouldn’t more remakes or reboots or whatever you want to call them be handled like last year’s 
and the nefarious nature of Darminah, the diabolical agent of a housekeeper, is delightfully broadly drawn. 
Oh, and the soundtrack is terrific, blending elements of musique concrète with the principles of free jazz at times; along with the sounds of haunting and weather events and so forth, it’s a treat. Continuity is sometimes an issue: for instance, when the undead boyfriend Herman first reappears, he has fangs,
but in his later return he does not, although at that point he begins to act vampiric. As alluded, the FX can be facile.
For those unfamiliar with the Oliver Reed 
In which we find the patient suffering from sequelitis, the disease by which little vestige of the original creation still survives, save for symbols and signifiers … such as the titular bogeyman. Strangely (and unfortunately), this installment’s eponym – known this time around as “Junior” (eyeroll) – takes his characterization from the ill-advised second chapter rather than the archetypal original. Since the chainsaw itself barely plays any real role here, aside from an asinine novelty visual, one wonders why they just didn’t make this flick its own generic vehicle rather than further degrade the “franchise.” Other issues abound, of course, not the least of which concerns the edits the film had to make to garner an “R” rating. A slasher movie that doesn’t actually show any gore – hell, only one character is killed in the first hour – is a curious thing, no? And where in the hell is this backward backwoods family getting a new house and all these new relatives, anyway? The genre equivalent of Mike Love’s “Beach Boys” performing postgame concerts in baseball stadiums for decades on end.
Only about 75 minutes long, this British production is basically Scream meets The Strangers, minus any meta sensibility or any tinge of humor (or humour, if you will). It does feature the very British touch of having one or more of its characters muttering and whispering his or her dialogue so that it’s virtually impossible to hear, especially if you’re watching it with doors and windows open in a neighborhood like mine. (And a sense of hearing like mine.) Also featured: very little detail. We aren’t told much about motivation, relationships, hierarchies. We do get some brief insights from which inferences may be drawn, but are essentially dropped into the middle of someone else’s story without being given a lot of background. What transpires is effectively unsettling, however – in any number of ways – and the ending is pretty intense. The story REALLY needed some new ideas of its own, though.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 