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"The Ninth Configuration" is a movie I've heard about over the years. Mostly, I've heard of it in the context of William Peter Blatty's other, far more well-known work. In interviews and on internet trivia pages, Blatty has said that "The Ninth Configuration" is the "real" sequel to the "The Exorcist," supplanting the widely reviled "Exorcist II: The Heretic" as the middle chapter of the trilogy. The only narrative connection between the two films is vague. The astronaut at the center of this film is Billy Cutshaw. He is the same astronaut present at Chris McNeil's party in "The Exorcist." Otherwise, the movies are unrelated. "The Ninth Configuration" isn't even a horror film. Instead, it's half absurdest comedy, half existential thriller.

A castle in the Pacific Northwest has been transformed into a mental hospital for Vietnam veterans that may or may not be faking psychological illnesses. Among them is Billy Cutshaw, an astronaut who had a mental breakdown right before boarding his space shuttle. A new doctor, Vincent Kane, is brought in to study Cutshaw's condition. There's very little plot in the first half of the movie, as Kane and Cutshaw argue about the existence of God and the nature of humanity while the other inmates act erratically. In the second half, Kane's own disturbing history is revealed, the truth is revealed, and the situation soon explodes into violence.

Blatty adapted this film from his own novel, originally published under the title "Twinkle Twinkle, "Killer" Kane!" Blatty has described the source material as "a comic novel." Thus, "The Ninth Configuration" was at least partially intended as a comedy. Many absurd things happen over the film's run time. Much of the dialogue is intentionally comedic. One of the inmates, played by Jason Miller, is putting on a production of "Hamlet" cast entirely with dogs. This leads to many scenes of the inmates interacting with the weirdly humanized dogs. Later, the patients dress up as Nazis and prisoners of war, reenacting "The Great Escape." One of the inmates is obsessed with Superman and is usually dressed up as the character. The most baffling comic moment comes when a guy randomly flies by on a jet pack. Despite these elements, "The Ninth Configuration" is never actually funny. There's a strong vein of foreboding darkness flowing underneath the entire production, one that makes it hard to laugh at anything that happens. The film is ultimately too off-putting to be humorous.

Instead, the film is much more effective as a thriller, if no less strange. Kane has a reoccurring dream, one he shares with Cutshaw, of an astronaut finding a crucified Christ on the moon. That sequence is effectively eerie. When the truth of Kane's condition is revealed, the ramshackle absurdity of the first half snap into place, the film smoothing itself out. This leads into another disturbing flashback to Kane's day in Vietnam. A long portion of the film is devoted to something that happens in the last third. Cutshaw leaves the hospital and travels to a bar. There, a cartoonish motorcycle gang begins to antagonize Cutshaw. Kane is sent to break up the fight. Instead, the bikers torture Kane as well. Eventually, he snaps, brutally executing each of the bikers. This sequence is extremely well shot, the audience feeling each bone-breaking blow. The scene pays off on the slowly building tension felt throughout the whole film.

Aside from Cutshaw, what also connects "The Ninth Configuration" to "The Exorcist" is that both films deal with faith, the loss of it, and the existence of good and evil. (Both also prominently feature a St. Christopher medal.) Cutshaw is an atheist. Kane, meanwhile, finds it far more likely that God exists and created the universe. Furthermore, Kane considers the ability of humans to selflessly sacrifice themselves proof of the good nature of man. Cutshaw demands examples of such behavior. While attending church, Cutshaw begins screaming at the attending priest. The two spend many scenes discussing these issue, neither side presented as wrong or right. Over the course of the story, Cutshaw is given his evidence of selfless sacrifice and his crisis of faith is resolved. The film effectively addresses these ideas in a natural, relaxed way, building towards a major statement.

Helping the film along is its able bodied cast. Stacy Keach as Kane begins the film rather dryly. However, as the story goes on, we realize his restrained personality is hiding a rage and an inner darkness. Scott Wilson matches him as Cutshaw, at first appearing totally deranged but slowly developing a deeper characterization. Jason Miller's part is very memorable even if he doesn't' contribute much to the story. Ed Flanders' gets maybe the juiciest moments of acting, especially when the truth about his relationship with Kane is revealed. The same could be said of Neville Brand, Robert Loggia, Tom Atkins, and Joe Spinall, all familiar character actors that are always welcomed.

I didn't entirely like "The Ninth Configuration" though it develops in a satisfying direction. It's a tonally uneven film and frequently very odd and off-putting. However, you can't say Blatty wasn't getting at something. It doesn't really compare to his two "Exorcist" movies. The three make for a very strange triple feature, which I wouldn't recommend. It's one of those movies I admire more then I like, if only because it's so genuinely odd.

In the year 2000, "The Exorcist" was released to theaters in an extended cut, advertised as "The Version You've Never Seen." This was mostly a stunt but it successfully introduced one of the best horror films of all time to a new audience. The same year, I recall seeing advertisements for a Showtime TV movie called "Possessed," based off the "true events" that inspired "The Exorcist." Yes, this was a movie based on a reportedly true story that inspired a better known movie. For some reason, the movie always stuck in the back of mind. I seem to remember some decent reviews at the time. For years, I assumed it was a better-then-average TV movie. Finally seeing the movie now, I can see that isn't true. "Possessed" is a cheesy, melodramatic made-for-television schlock-fest.

In the early 1950s, a little boy named Robbie begins to act erratically. He's using profanity and misbehaving at school. Bloody gashes and cuts appear on his body. Most alarmingly, he gains the ability to move things with his mind. The boys' parents don't know what to do, quickly turning to the local Catholic church. A troubled priest named William Bowden, and his student Raymond McBride, becomes involved. Bowden quickly begins to believe that the boy is genuinely possessed by a demon. He asks for an exorcism. Though the local bishop is reluctant to approve the ritual, he eventually gives them the go-ahead as long as it stay secret.

"Possessed" is simply not a very good horror movie. It's attempts to scare are obvious, ham-fisted, and poorly constructed. When Robbie first begins to display unusual behavior, he telekinetically slides his desk around his class room. The effect is hokey and overdone, generating laughter instead of chills. Later, he spins a chair in his living room around on its leg. This, too, is ridiculous looking and badly constructed. "Possessed" goes for the hackiest horror clichés. The little boy has a creepy ventriloquist dummy. The story is set during Halloween. The final exorcism takes place on a dark and stormy night. The actor playing Robbie is a freckled, beady-eyed redhead, which does not make for the most convincing scares. When the time comes for the demon to make itself known, "Possessed" limply recreates the famous things "The Exorcist" did. The boy yells profanity – not even very shocking profanity – in a cheesy demon voice. He spits and vomits. Worst yet is when he makes his bed hovers or produces a giant cross out of nothing. The melodramatic score, full of stock horror shocks, does not help matters.

Starring in "Possessed" is Timothy Dalton. Dalton, the most underrated of James Bonds, plays Father Bowden. Bowden is haunted by his time in World War II when a dying soldiers on the battle field asks for his last rites and the priest ran and hid instead. The bayonet wound on his side is frequently referenced and, in the film's most overdone moments, it causes a lingering pain. Dalton gives the part his all, forcing as much of his natural charm in the rickety material as possible. It's no hope though. The character's drinking habit is the hoariest of clichés as is his struggle with his own faith. When the film calls on Dalton to directly threaten the demon, he seems to be playing it for humor. He actually tells the devil to "buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy night." Dalton appearing in schlock like this is sadly understandable but how the heck did they get Christopher Plummer to drop in on this? All his scenes were probably shot in a day but, even then, surely he had something better to do. For that matter, even Piper Laurie is above the material, during her even briefer cameo.

"Possessed" does an okay job of establishing its setting. The kid's watch "Duck and Cover" in class. Radios are everywhere. Milton Berle is referenced. Robbie reads Superman and horror comics. However, most of the film's attempts to appear timely do not succeed. Early on, Bowden attempts to break up a fight between black protesters and the racist mob attacking him. References to Hitler and World War II are sprinkled through. (The most embarrassing moment is when the possessed Robbie pretends to be an MC in hell, introducing the Fuher to the priests.) These attempts to root the movie in a specific time are heavy-handed and cheesy.

Director Steven E. de Souza previously made "Street Fighter," a movie that gets a little more leeway with me then anyone else. Maybe de Souza should have stuck with Van Damme. By blatantly inviting comparison to a cinematic masterpiece like "The Exorcsit," "Possessed" was setting itself up for failure. By filling its run time with the corniest of dime store horrors, it sets itself up for unintentional laughter.

You know the story by now: Morgan Creek wanted to make a prequel to "The Exorcist" and hired to Paul Schrader to do so. After delivering them his movie, the studio dismissed it for not being gory enough. Renny Harlin, esteemed filmmaker of "Cutthroat Island" and "A Nightmare on Elm Street 4," was brought in to completely reshoot the film. After Renny Harlin's excretal "Exorcist: The Beginning" was unleashed on the world, to critical savaging and public indifference, Morgan Creek figured they may as well release Paul Schrader's original cut. Given the unwieldy title, "Dominion: The Prequel to "The Exorcist,"" the film's art-house release made slightly less money and received only slightly better reviews.

The two films follow the same general outlines. Father Merrin, his faith shaken by atrocities seen during the war, goes to Africa as an archaeologist. A church, made in the wrong century and perfectly preserved inside, is dug up. The British army and the local tribe come close to trading blows. Aside from these elements, the two films play out in very different ways. In "Dominion," Merrin discovers a deformed, crippled child on the street. After the discovery of the church, the boy's condition begins to improve miraculously. This is the possessed child. The boy's condition plays out against the two armies coming to blows and Merrin's crisis of faith.

In "The Beginning," the British army and the African tribes go to war because of an ill-defined cloud of evil floating over the area. It was dumb. In "Dominion," the conflict between the two armies is an issue of religious difference and imperialism. The African tribesman associate Christianity with the British army. The head general murders a girl without reason. The film draws explicit parallels between this scene and the Nazi atrocities seen at the beginning of the film. In response, the tribesman murders the young boys interested in Christianity. In response, a convert actively wonders if this Christianity thing is worth it. There's no amorphous cloud of evil spreading its influence over the world. Instead, the events that happen are born out of men and their weaknesses.

Most fascinatingly, "Dominion" tackles with the cost of evil. In "The Beginning," Merrin's crisis of faith is the result of what happened in the war. That film didn't go any further as to why. In "Dominion," Merrin's sin is not a lack of faith but of guilt. He lives with what happened every day and it weights heavily on him. During the exorcism, the demon promises to take Merrin's guilt away from him. The film shows faith as a burden, as having to live with and deal with the things that happen to us. Evil is not a vague, grand idea. Instead, it happens because people do not care and walk away from their conflicts. This is a surprisingly profound idea to find in a horror movie, much less a horror movie prequel.

Unlike the music video style gore of "The Beginning," "Dominion's" effects are much more subtle. The film does not attempt to replicate the shock value of the original. There's no swearing, green vomit, scarred faces, or bodily contortion. The only visual call back to the original "Exorcist" is brief appearances from the Captain Howdy face. When possessed, the boy's condition actually improves. His limbs straighten, his broken bones heal, his body grows strong and vitalized. This is a clever visualization of the film's theme of guilt and imperfection as something that makes us stronger. The confrontation between Merrin and the demon is not a series of shocking special effects. Instead, it's a battle of wills.

That Morgan Creek would dismiss "Dominion" for being non-commercial and "not scary enough" is not exactly surprising. The film's biggest weakness is how slow paced it is. This is a character based movie. There's only small amounts of gore in short burst, such as a stillborn child or the torn apart bodies left inside the church. Instead, the movie is much more interested in its philosophical ideas. Therefore, it's never exactly scary and never generates any visceral thrills or shocks. Aside from an odd nightmare sequence, the film isn't attempting scares at all. Also, I'm afraid to say, both versions of "The Exorcist" prequel feature CGI hyenas. I guess somebody thought that was a good idea… Even if it is flawed, "Dominion: The Prequel to "The Exorcist"" is an intelligent, extremely well thought out film that wrestles with and presents some fascinating ideas. The performances are strong and the visuals are well constructed. Paul Schrader made a thoughtful continuation of "The Exorcist," one worthy of the name. It probably wouldn't have set the box office on fire but that still doesn't justify the existence of that Renny Harlin abomination.

After the disastrous reception that greeted "Exorcist II: The Heretic," you would expect no further attempts to franchise "The Exorcist" brand name. Why not let a classic film stand on its' own? That was the general belief until original series creator William Peter Blatty had an idea. In the mid-eighties, Blatty thought a concept for an "Exorcist" sequel, revolving around Kinderman, the detective from the original story. Published as the novel "Legion," the box was a best seller. Naturally, Hollywood demanded a film adaptation, expanding the "Exorcist" series into a trilogy. After William Friedkin and John Carpenter passed on directing the film, Blatty himself took up the job. "The Exorcist III" had a troubled production and mediocre box office but has developed a cult following over the year.

"The Exorcist III" does not go for the bold shock value of the original film. Instead, it is more interested in creating a creeping sense of unease. The film begins with an extraordinary dream sequence, a point-of-view shot walking down a street, passing the first murder victim. The door of a church blows open, accompanied by diabolic cackling on the soundtrack, forcing the eyes of a crucifix open. The camera then crash-cuts to Karras rolling down the stairs. There are many moments of slow-building dread. A confession at a church begins calmly enough before escalating to screaming, murdered priest. Sometimes, the film punctuates these sequences with a strong jump scare. Kinderman wanders a dark, suddenly foreboding church. The face on a statue of a saint is suddenly replaced with a sadistic grin. Suddenly, a girl bumps into the detective, deflating the tension. The most famous moment, probably, in "Exorcist III" involves a long shot of a nurse doing her nightly duties which ends suddenly with a killer, clad in white and carrying a giant pair of sheers, entering to decapitate her. Moreover, the movie is just creepy, with a fabulously sinister sound design, frequently powered by unearthly growls. The image of an old woman scurrying across the ceiling or a sudden, near decapitation are startling, unnerving sights.

Centering "The Exorcist III" is a powerful performance from George C. Scott. Lee J. Cobb, who played Kinderman in the original movie, had passed away, forcing recasting. It's just as well because Scott's Kinderman is practically a different character. The whimsical Kinderman who digs information out of people with double-talk isn't seen much here. Instead, Kinderman has suffered many losses and will suffer more before this is over. Blatty retcons his own work a little. In "The Exorcist," Karras and Kinderman only knew each other a short while. In this film, the two are characterized as best friends. This change, however, allows the character to be far more invested in the story. George C. Scott gives a fantastic performance. His face is world-weary and his words are usually blustery. He's a man who has experienced a lot so, when he breaks down in tears at one point, you know it's serious. Scott gets two fabulous monologues to himself. The first describes his wife keeping a carp in their bathtub, a bizarre bit of quasi-comic dialogue only Blatty could have written. The second one is a powerful speech near the end of the film where Kinderman establishes his belief in evil. That is the true climax of the film and a great moment.

Much of "The Exorcist III" is devoted to Kinderman's discussion with the mysterious man in Cell 31. He is credited only as Patient X. A really interesting choice has two actors playing the part. Sometimes, Jason Miller plays the part, confirming the character as the revived corpse of Damian Karras. Other times, more frequently, Brad Dourif plays the madman. Dourif brings the strangled, coldly sadistic, slightly refined, and deeply unhinged style to the part that we expect from him. Even then, Dourif's voice constantly changes, rising and falling in pitch. The demon truly is legion, a multitude of wicked personalities always shifting around inside. The film's supporting cast is generally great. Ed Flanders has fine chemistry with Scott as the recast Father Dyer and Zohra Lampert and Nicol Williamson feel out the supporting case.

The original "Exorcist" was a story about faith and guilt. The third film continues in a similar pattern but with a slightly different approach. Kinderman's guilt comes from loosing dear friends, from the thought that he failed them. His faith has wavered because of how much evil he has seen. The gruesome details of the murders weigh heavily on him. The story revolves these issues through two ways. By acknowledging the existence of the demon, of supernatural evil, it justifies the existence of a higher power, of supernatural goodness. Secondly, Kinderman is able to literally resolve his friend's untimely passing. He has to confront Karras' death and viscerally move pass it at one time. The final image of "The Exorcist III" is the cop standing above his dear friend's grave, finally at rest. Though not as powerful as the themes addressed in the first film, the movie handles its own ideas with a similar complexity and skill.

"The Exorcist III" was originally an even more low-key production before Morgan Creek demanded reshoots. Specifically, they were convinced an "Exorcist" movie couldn't happen with an exorcism. So a new subplot, about a priest going to exorcise Patient X, was hastily added. The sequence also contains most of the gore and special effects seen in the film. They are mildly effective but obviously last minute additions. William Peter Blaty has expressed a desire to create a director's cut but Morgan Creek hasn't been interested in cooperating. Perhaps his vision of the film would be a smoother affair. Even in its theatrical cut, "The Exorcist III" is still a pretty good movie. It doesn't attempt to recreate the shocks of the original, instead doing something very different, providing some worthy chills of its own.

Making a prequel to "The Exorcist" is an interesting idea. Though briefly touched upon in "Exorcist II: The Heretic," a movie most would ignore anyway, the full details of Father Merrin's first encounter with the demon all that time ago in African had never been elaborated upon. Prequels were still hot business in 2005, as well, before that cycle turned to the current reboot cycle where in now. Of course now, we all know what a massive mess the production of "Exorcist: The Beginning" was. The original director died before production started, the version shot by Paul Schrader was discarded by Morgan Creek for being too noncommercial and too bloodless, and Renny Harlin was brought in to shoot an entirely different movie. Neither version was critically or financially successful, making the whole ordeal look like a totally wasted endeavor. Of the two, "The Beginning" has always been considered the worst, which is why I've avoided it until now.

After witnessing Nazi atrocities in World War II, Father Merrin lost his faith and abandoned the cloth. Instead, he turns to archeology as a career. He is sent to Africa to find further information about a casting of a Sumerian demon. There, he discovers an ancient Christian church, buried underground and left in perfect condition. The church is full of blasphemous desecration. Soon, strange events begin to happen in the village around the church. A boy acts strangely, seemingly under the sway of something. Tension rises between the African natives and the British army, leading to war. Merrin soon realizes the devil is responsible and must regain his faith to fight back the demon.

There's many things I dislike about "Exoricst: The Beginning" but I'll start with the nonsensical plot. The movie breaks continuity with "Exoricst II: The Heretic" wildly, which is not surprising. However, that the movie dispenses entirely with established lore is frustrating. Kokumo is not mentioned and Merrin does not perform an exorcism on a little boy. The plot revolving around the abandoned church goes wildly awry. It is revealed that a massacre occurred in this spot years ago and that the Catholic Church believes this to be the spot where Satan fell from heaven. As a result of this, everyone around the church goes violently insane. Eventually, the English soldiers and the native Africans get into a bloody battle together as a result of this, with plenty of suicides. None of this has much to do with the mythology of "The Exorcist." The plot is mostly a collection of unrelated gory sequence, the faithless Father Merrin and the boy he believes to be possessed wandering around the edges of the story.

"Exorcist: The Beginning" is also an awful horror movie. The movie indulges in all the worst excesses of modern studio horror. The film is packed full of obnoxious jump scares, loud noises or musical stings or sudden appearances screaming at the audience all the time. Morgan Creek reportedly refilmed the movie because they wanted more gore in it. Director Renny Harlin, he of "Die Hard 2" fame, gave them just that. The movie is loaded with sickening violence. A psychic force breaks men's fingers and arms, the bone stabbing through the flesh. A body is found with a huge chunk of meat taken out of the middle. Another dangles from his entrails. The movie is loaded with CGI head shots. I can't even enjoy this stuff from the perspective of a gorehound, partially because of the crappy CGI but mostly because the violence so nihilistic and thoughtless in its use. Speaking of crappy special effects, what about those CGI hyenas? Who thought that was a good idea? In its last half-hour, "Exorcist: The Beginning" remembers that it's a prequel to "The Exorcist." In a cheap plot twist, the character we've been led to believe is possessed is not. Instead, a character that has shown no previous symptoms is revealed to be possessed. Set inside the abandoned church, what follows is a melodramatic battle between Merrin and the demon. The possessed person gains the same sickly skin, scars, and voice as Linda Blair did back in 1973. Using modern special effects, the possessed bends their body at painful angles, screams limp profanity, and slithers around on the wall. Merrin regains his faith spontaneously, his character arc coming to a blunt resolution. Because this movie was made by idiots, Merrin exerting the power of God over the demon is shown literally by waves of "power" blasting and twisting the demon's body.

Despite being an otherwise terrible movie, "Exorcist: The Beginning" does have a pretty good cast. One of the few reoccurring faces between both versions is Stellen Skarsgaard as Merrin. The flashbacks to the war, the event that made the priest loose his faith, are melodramatically presented and cut into the present story in inelegant ways. Skarsgaard does his best though, doing professional work with the material he's given. I also like Izabella Scorupco, who has chemistry with Skarsgaard. The conversations between the two actors, and the slow way her history is revealed, are the only times the movie begins to feel like a real film.

"The Exorcist" was a horror film for adults, struggling with serious and complex issues. "Exorcist: The Beginning" is a horror film for stupid teenagers, full of senseless gore and a thoughtless story. It's so dumb that it actually ends with a sequel hook, Merrin now dressed as a priest and walking off like a superhero. That one of the best horror films of all time is associated with this massive piece of tripe is an insult to every living creature on the planet.

The original "The Exorcist" was immediately iconic that still regularly tops lists of "all-time scariest movies." It also made bunches of money. The seventies were not as sequel crazy as our current climate but a hit of that magnitude still demanded continuation. But how does one sequelize the scariest film of all time? The assigned director, John Boorman, had made "Deliverance" and "Excaliber," great films in their own rights. He also made "Zardoz" an unintentionally hilarious piece of tripped-out seventies camp. That film informed "Exorcist II: The Heretic" more then Boorman's other. The film was derided when released and is still considered one of the worst sequels ever made.

"Exorcist II: The Heretic" makes the same mistake many sequels make. It takes a very simple film and attempts to build an elaborate mythology around it. In the first film, the entity possessing Regan was referred to as just the demon or the devil. Going off one line in the original novel, the sequel identifies the demon as Pazuzu, a Babylon wind spirit. Granting the evil entity a proper name, and especially one as silly sounding as "Pazuzu," tries to explain the monster, making it weaker. Similarly, Regan McNeil is revealed to have a special purpose. She can heal the sick, has psychic powers, and a great ability to fight off evil. This overlooks two key points from the original film. Regan was a normal little girl, an everyday person, which is what made her possession so awful. Secondly, the girl was merely a stopping point between the battle between the demon and Father Merrin, part of a far older duel between good and evil. Making Regan "special" negates both of these points. Lastly, "The Heretic" is knee-deep in seventies pop psychology and pseudo-science. There's the whole business with the hypnotism, long since discredited as a psychological tool. It's achieved in an especially goofy way, with a machine that flashes lights at a slower speed. The original "Exorcist" is still timeless. The sequel is immediately dated.

Despite a story that dramatically misunderstands the point of the original, "Exorcist II" is not without its pros. John Boorman's strength frequently lies in his ability to create a dream-like tone of unreality. Though mostly ridiculous, "The Heretic" occasionally makes use of this. The flashbacks to the events of the first film make use of a clumsy Linda Blair look-alike and a voice actor that kind of sounds like Mercedes McCambridge. Similarly, the sequences showing Merrin exorcising the African boy years ago are silly as hell. However, Boorman creates some striking images. He uses sets that are intentionally artificial, with high-contrast, orange lighting. The camera sailing over the Ethiopian desert or the looming clouds of locusts are effective. Probably the best sequence is the dream-like encounter between Father Lamont and an adult Kokumo, which involves a spitted out tomato and a bed of spikes.

Unfortunately, any time Boorman creates a lyrical moment, he immediately undermines it with an ill-conceived moment of unintentional camp. The sound design makes extensive use of high-pitched shrieking and repetitive chanting. There are hard cuts between Lamont's adventure in Africa and Linda Blair tap-dancing in a ridiculous outfit. When Lamont is pelted with rocks, Regan begins to spasmodically convulse. Aligning the demon Pazuzu with locusts is a strange choice, especially when it leads to stationary shots of fluttering grasshoppers. Before the character become hypnotized, their eyes roll back in their heads in a rather comical fashion. The bleating sound of the hypnotizing machine are also a really silly sound effect. "The Heretic" is frequently affected by a very silly streak.

Further troubling the film is its two main performances. As the pre-teen, non-possessed Regan, Linda Blair created a naturalistic, workable performance. In the sequel, Blair has grown a squeaky, distracting voice. She seems like an out-of-her-element teen girl and not in a good way. Her range proves limited. Blair is unbelievable in every scene in the film. Blair was basically still a novice at the time. So what's Richard Burton's excuse? Burton is sweaty, over-the-top, and constantly starring wide-eyed. Constantly being forced to yell "Pazuzu!" and "Kokumo!" doesn't help any. He stuffs every line with as much unearned pretensions as possible. Burton's ridiculous performance puffs up the film's already overheated tone. Kitty Winn, returning as Regan's tutor Sharon, seems unsure what to do with her part. She's usually given the expositionary dialogue, which is a real bad fit. Some performances are better though. Louise Fletcher is fine. Max von Sydow retains his dignity. James Earl Jones even adds some gravitas to his brief moments of screen time.

"Exorcist II: The Heretic" is a silly movie with an as silly conclusions. It has the good idea to return to Regan's Georgetown bedroom but, otherwise, ridiculousness has totally consumed the film by this point. Swarms of locusts explode from a door. A car slams into a wall, an unconvincing special effect. A girl burns in a fire, despite the actress seemingly not being anywhere near the fire. Linda Blair, wearing very silly contact lens, attempts to seduce Richard Burton. Regan banishes the evil spirit by dancing and spinning her arms around. Think of how stark and intense the last act of "The Exorcist" was. It's like the sequel goes out of its way to create the opposite of those emotions.

"Exorcist II: The Heretic" is not the worst movie ever made or even the worst sequel, for that matter. It is, however, a deeply misconceived project made by filmmakers who truly did not understand the power of the original. The disliked sequel has found some defenders over the years, including Martin Scorsese. It's not scary, thought-provoking, or well thought out. At least John Boorman had a vision. Was that vision anybody's idea of a good sequel to "The Exorcist?" No but give the guy some credit.

When "The Exorcist" was released, it was a phenomenon. It did what all great movies do: Spurn discussion. Some Christian condemn it, others supported it for making the devil real to a new generation. Even the critics were divided, some considering the film vulgar trash driven by shock value. Forty years later, "The Exorcist's" status as one of the greatest horror films ever made, if not the greatest, is well established. Few challenge this opinion. It's hard for me to declare any film the greatest anything but "The Exorcist" is clearly an incredible film.

The story behind "The Exorcist" is well known. William Peter Blattey, a screenwriter best known for comedy, was inspired by the supposedly true story of a young boy possessed in 1950s Baltimore. Using this as a basis, he wrote the novel "The Exorcist," which became a great success. Hollywood came calling not long afterwards, as you'd expect. Blatty adapted his own book. Accordingly, "The Exorcist" is an extremely close adaptation, following the book on a nearly scene-by-scene basis.

William Friedkin, who just won an Academy Award for "The French Connection," did not approach "The Exorcist" as a typical horror film. Friedkin shoots the movie with a docu-drama intensity. Though the film is famous for its chilling use of Mike Oldfield's "Tubular Bells," there's very little music in the movie. As we watch the McNeil household go about their days, and Karras' isolated existence, this creates an acute sense of reality. One the film slowly subverts. A sense of chilly unease is created in a simple scene of Chris walking down the street or Karras serving communion. This is best illustrated during Karras' nightmare, which is not outwardly disturbing but still unnerves the viewer. Or the long sequences of Regan in the hospital, focusing on her discomfort during the procedures. No matter how normal things appear at first, its apparent things are going to go very, very wrong.

The creeping feeling of discomfort and established realism leaves the audience for the film's stabbing sequences of shocking behavior. The moments are well known now, widely parodied and referenced. Regan bloodily masturbates with a crucifix, pushes her mother's face into her bloody crotch, screams profanity, spews a torrent of green vomit, and cranks her head around in a circle. Even lesser moments like Regan speaking with the murdered director's voice are well known. Yet Friedkin's rooted-in-reality approach makes these moments creditable. Chris being attacked by her own daughter is shot in an intimate style, placing the audience in the character's shoes. What makes these moments horrifying is not that they're happening. Far more explicit scenes existed before and after. What makes them effective is that they are happening to this girl, in this house, in this way.

The film builds towards the final act, when the titular exorcism takes place. Father Merrin's arrival brings a graveness to the already intense situation. The camera remains focused on the priests as they do their work. The girl blares profanity, moans blasphemy, and floats above the bed. The room shakes, the actors' breaths visible before them. These are special effects but the movie's total commitment to verisimilitude makes them seem plausible. The last third of the movie is still shockingly directed and completely effective. Every time it gives me chills.

It's notable that "The Exorcist's" conclusion still triggers debate. Father Merrin dies, succumbing to his poor health. Karras convinces the demon to leave the girl's body and enters his. With his last ounce of free will, he flings himself from the window, dying. Has good truly triumphed over evil? Has Karras' crisis of faith been resolved in his act of self-sacrifice? If demons exist, God must exist, right? "The Exorcist" doesn't provide easy answers. What catharsis the ending creates is undermined by the scars still visible on Regan's face, the lines of aging on Chris'. These events will haunt them forever. Moreover, the eerie opening has Merrin, in Iraq, starring strangely at a Sumerian statue. The demon recognizes him upon his entry to the house. This is but one battle in a long, on-going war between demonic forces and those of human faith. Is it a battle we can ever truly win? Whether "The Exorcist" is faith-affirming or existentially unnerving is a matter of personal interpretation.

Finally, "The Exorcist" is bolstered by a fantastic cast. Ellen Burstyn at first appears likable. As the events go on, her thread-bare emotions are bravely acted out, showing no sign for movie star vanity. Jason Miller's Karras is darker, more uncertain and troubled then the character in the book. He does a great deal of acting with his face. Max von Sydow's booming voice makes Merrin a figure of immediate respect. Despite only being 44 at the time, he appears much older and carries a lifetime of knowledge and regrets on his shoulders. How much credit Linda Blair can take for her performance is still debated. Blair is great as the cherub-faced Regan, a happy, mischievous child dealing with her parents' divorce. Once possessed, the voice of Mercedes McCambridge and Dick Smith's legendary make-up takes over, creating a disturbing, incomparable portrayal of demonic arrogance and vicious sacrilege. The only performance I'm not too keen on is Lee J. Cobb as Lt. Kinderman, a subplot that didn't entirely work in the book and seems even more extraneous on-screen.

The best horror films are not the ones that simply set out to scare an audience. "The Exorcist" does that. Boy, does it ever. But it also discomforts us, presents us with difficult questions and themes about complex, real life issues. About faith, guilt, the existence of evil and the question of good. The film is a triumph of direction, sound design, and tone but also of writing and creation. To say "The Exorcist" is the greatest horror film ever made is too presumptuous. It is, however, clearly one of the greats, in this genre and any genre.

In the eighties, horror was big business again. George Romero, and his genre-bending zombie films, had been elevated to iconic levels. A few years had passed since "Dawn of the Dead." The time had come for another entry in the series. Originally envisioned as the ultimate zombie movie, budget cuts had Romero scaling back his vision. "Day of the Dead" was released in 1985, the same year as "Return of the Living Dead" and "Re-Animator." In comparison, the down-beat, slow-paced "Day" disappointed fans. For years, the film was considering the weakest entry in the trilogy. Time, however, was on its side. Now, many people list "Day of the Dead" as their favorite of Romero's original trilogy, including the filmmaker himself.

"Night" showed the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. "Dawn" had society on the verge of collapse. By the time of "Day," the dead outnumber the living. A small group of scientists and soldiers hole up in an abandoned missile silo. The scientists, led by fearless Sarah and eccentric Dr. Logan, attempt to study the living dead. The soldiers, meanwhile, want to exterminate the zombies and lord over what remains of humanity. Whatever shred of order remains breaks down in time and, soon enough, the dead rule over all.

As the series evolved, one prevailing theme rose above: Humanity's ultimate downfall won't be because of the undead but because of mankind's inability to communicate with each other. This idea comes to the forefront in "Day." The inhabitants of the silo are a powder keg, waiting to go off. The soldiers are belligerent, sexist, and racist. If they worked with the scientists, the human race might have a chance to survive. Instead, military leader Rhodes and his even-worse men use the situation as an opportunity to boss the others around. Even before zombies invade the base, guns are pulled. Another reason people were disappointed by "Day" initially is because it doesn't appear to be taking a sharp look at any social issue of the time. However, through the film's characters, it becomes clear that Romero is criticizing the pro-military attitude of Reagan-era America. Military aggression is painted as little more then a grand pissing contest, allowing the film to take aim at Cold War escalation.

The sole element of "Day" that everyone likes is its treatment of zombies. The film delves into what makes the undead tick. Dr. Logan dissects zombies, cutting out their organs. The film gives a fascinating glimpse into the inner workings of the zombies' minds. As future entries in the protracted trilogy would make clear, Romero had always planned for the zombies to evolve over time. Enter Bub! While the other zombies Dr. Logan captures are mindless shamblers, Bub is the Zombie with a Soul. He mumbles words. He studies relics from his human life. His mind is visibly blown when he is introduced to classical music. Bub has emotions too, mourning for his father figure and even taking revenge. Many of the characters in "Day" are prickly, hard-to-relate-with. Everyone loves Bub.

On first viewing, "Day" can come off as somewhat abrasive. Many of the cast are intentionally obnoxious. Captain Rhodes is an authoritative dirtbag, willing to gun people down because they disagree with him. His primary henchman, Steel and Rickles, make lewd comments and release high-pitched laughs. Private Salazar is in such a constant, high-strung state that he becomes impossible to relate too. Everyone swears and screams. It's not the fault of the cast. Joe Pilato and the others certainly give it their all. Characters this broad and aggravating don't make "Day of the Dead" the easiest watch.

The other cast members are easier to relate too. Lori Cardille's Sarah is steely and strong. Richard Liberty gives a memorable performance as the unhinged Dr. Logan. Crazy though Dr. Logan might be, his enthusiasm makes him fun to watch. Jarlath Conroy provides much needed levity as Bill, the alcoholic operator. Terry Alexander as John, the Caribbean pilot with a thick accent, gives a solid performance. The heroes provide a pocket of sanity in the world of intense emotion that is "Day of the Dead." Of interest to most horror fans is the gore. "Night" invented the splatter flick. "Dawn" upped the ante, creating the zombie gorefest. In the wake of super-explicit Italian rip-offs, George had to push the limit. "Day" features the most graphic zombie violence up to this point. While body parts are bitten throughout, the film really cuts loose in its last act. A zombie with a split abdomen sits up, his guts spilling out. An infected arm is cut off and the wound cauterized. A man's neck is tore apart, his head pulled loose, screaming all the while. Another has his face tore away. Rhodes gets the nastiest death of all, literally torn in two, his intestines pouring out. The scenes of zombies gorging themselves are stomach-churning even to this hardened horror fan. Even the undead are dispatched in interesting ways, such as one that has his dead bisected by a shovel, eyes twitching. The zombie make-up has improved considerably. The blue face paint of "Dawn" gave way to detailed appliances. Continuing another trend started in "Dawn," the zombies have personality too. We see a zombie football player, zombie clown, a ballerina, a bride, a soldier, and more.

It's been a long road for "Day of the Dead" from disappointment to classic. It's now spoke of in the same quality as the first two of Romero's undead classics. Each one of the original trilogy works in its own way. I happen to prefer the first two over "Day" but you can't say Romero's third undead film isn't as personal or inspiring.

"Night of the Living Dead" was a huge success but George Romero never saw a dime from it. Despite this, he had a number of cult successes in the seventies. None of them performed on the level of "Night" though. Despite urgings from backers, George never had much interest in producing a sequel to his zombie trend-setter. However, after a trip to a mall, inspiration hit. Released in 1978, "Dawn of the Dead" was a hit too, especially in Europe, and changed the rules of the zombie genre again.

Picking up some point after "Night of the Living Dead," "Dawn" shows society on the brink of total collapse. Newscasters argue while bogus emergency listings send people to empty help centers. Police wage war against families holing up in ghetto apartments with their undead relatives. News editor Francine and her pilot boyfriend Stephen flee the chaotic news station. Soon, they pick up SWAT officers Roger and Peter. While flying over a world collapsing into undead disorder, the quartet come upon a shopping, empty save for the zombies inside. They shack up there, thinking their problems are over. They aren't.

Many zombie movies came in the wake of "Dawn." Many of them were simple splatter flicks. In the modern age, zombie movies have become stupid revenge fantasies for survivalists. Romero's movies were always more than that. Each film comments on something in the culture. "Dawn of the Dead" is outright satirical at times. It continues "Night's" thesis to a degree. People still can't communicate or cooperate, even with the world falling apart. "Dawn" sets its sights on something more specific: 1970s consumer culture. From the moment the four enter the mall, they start to covet the objects around them. Peter shouts "We're going shopping!" while clearing the place of zombies. They fill a wheel barrel full of stuff before returning to their hiding place. After making the mall their own, the group collects money, eat at a fancy restaurant, and play dress-up. They continue, aware inside that these possessions are meaningless in this new world. The motorcycle gangs at the end are the ultimate expression of this theme. They attack the mall and steal even if there's no reason too. Humans are obsessed with hoarding stuff. The shambling zombies represent brain-dead shoppers, milling about the mall doing nothing. There are deeper layers to "Dawn" too. One fantastic moment has a tennis ball dropping down into a horde of zombies. The unwashed masses trying to enter the ivory tower of privileged society. The movie's deep, is my point.

Aware of how downbeat his message is, Romero made the conscious decision to make "Dawn" as fun as possible. This is his comic book zombie epic. Humor abounds. Characters slide down an escalator banister. Peter and Roger hoot while driving around the parking lot, flattening zombies in their ways. One fantastic sequence has the gang piling in a car, blasting zombies as they drive. Pies are thrown in the faces of the undead. The climatic entrance of the motorcycle gang is, without doubt, the most comic-book-y element. Zombies descend on a biker as he decides to try out a blood pressure machine. The best joke comes when, after infiltrating the mall, the humans decide to switch on the music. There's something blackly comedic about zombies lurching around while up-beat muzak plays in the background. "Dawn of the Dead" never forgets its central message but it's also massively entertaining.

As an action film and dark comedy, "Dawn of the Dead" is hugely successful. Let's not forget that this is a horror movie too. There are some scares: Zombie arms reaching through a boarded-up wall, a zombie-posing-as-a-mannequin. "Dawn" is mostly focused on shocks. The level of gore was unprecedented in 1978. A man's head is blown apart with a shotgun. A zombified guy takes a bite out of his former lover's arm. A ghoul has the top of his head cleaved off by a helicopter. Zombie kids are blasted. A screwdriver is stabbed into an ear. Heads and faces are splattered and swiss-cheesed. Most graphically, in the last act, zombies tear apart the bikers like fried chicken, dismembering and disemboweling them. "Dawn of the Dead" preceded multiple zombie gorefests but few reached its level. The make-up, with its blue skin, is simplistic but effective. Romero gifts his undead hordes with a surprisingly amount of personality. There's a nurse, a Hare-Krisna, a fat guy in swim trunks, zombies in plaid and zombies in polyester.

A strong central cast that takes the material seriously helps the film a lot. Ken Foree and Scott H. Reiniger have great chemistry together as zombie-killin' BFFs Roger and Peter. Roger's tortured last days alive, and Peter's reaction to it, are genuinely heart-breaking. David Emge and Gaylen Ross give great performances as complex, flawed characters. It's a good thing the cast is so strong especially since we spend most of the movie with them. Romero's direction has improved considerably since "Night of the Living Dead." He employs POV shots, upward facing angles, atmospheric shadows, and other inventive styles of shooting. The score contrasts Goblin's unnerving prog-rock and driving disco-synth with sometimes eerie, sometimes corny stock music. For all its strength, the movie's a bit long at over two hours. The film drags slightly at the end of the second act, when the characters are living with their ennui but before the bikers show up.

George originally had a much bleaker ending in mind where everyone died, some from zombie bites and some from suicide. Realizing audiences would grow attached to the heroes of "Dawn," he spared two. Peter and Francine head towards an uncertain dawn, their helicopter low and fuel. However, there's a glimmer of hope. As messed up as things are, at least companionship holds out. "Dawn of the Dead" is probably the most intimidated zombie movie in existence. None of the pretenders to the throne have topped the master though.

Horror fans like myself like to say the classic age of horror lasted until 1960, when "Psycho" signaled the start of the modern age. Though its true that "Psycho" might have been the first true modern horror film, it took the rest of the decade for the genre to catch up to Hitchcock's masterpiece. The movie that truly signaled the changing of the guard, that dragged horror kicking and screaming into the modern age, was George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead." The film's biggest contribution to the horror genre, and all of pop culture truthfully, is the modern conception of the zombie. Before this film, the only version of zombies known to the world were the traditional voodoo zombies, undead servants controlled by a master. In "Night of the Living Dead," the zombies are corpses risen to life to feed upon the flesh of the living. The only way to kill one is to destroy the brain through whatever means. These are the rules that have come to define the entire zombie genre. For the record, Romero never intended to completely redefine the zombie. In his original script, he referred to the creatures as "ghouls," a similar but distinct mythological creature. His main inspiration for the movie was Richard Matheson's "I Am Legend," which was a novel about vampires. These specifics ended up not mattering. From the moment it was released, the ghouls in "Night of the Living Dead" were zombies. Henceforth, everything that acted like them were also zombies.

Another aspect that has elevated the film into the upper-echelon of great horror movies is George Romero and his actors taking the material one-hundred percent seriously. The director intentionally invited a number of subtextual angles. "Night" is about the end of the sixties. The film is literally about a new culture arising to devour the old one. Society as we know it is overturned. The rules of life and death, as traditionally understood, are completely rewritten. Early on, Johnny makes a dismissive reference to religion. Later on, a news report says there's no time for ceremony when disposing of the dead. Religious certainties are invalid now too.

If "Night" isn't the first modern horror film, it is, perhaps, the first post-Vietnam horror film. There's a stark quality to the way the film is shot. It frequently feels like a newsreel. These aren't movie stars in a glossy production. These are normal people involved in horrifying circumstances. In opposition to generations of Gothic horror films, the horror isn't in some exotic forgien land. It's in your backyard. By the same accord, the film brings the horror of Vietnam home. Romero and company have repeatedly denied the casting of Duane Jones, a black man, in the lead role having any significance. Yet his presence undeniably affects how the viewer watches the film. For all the layers in the film, its most universal point is that mankind is incapable of communicating. If Ben and Mr. Cooper worked together against the zombies, they might have survived the night. Instead, they bicker, argue, and compete. Humanity will never be able to get anywhere because we can't stop arguing with each other over petty, pointless bullshit.

You can read a lot into "Night of the Living Dead." As sophisticated as the writing is, "Night" is still a low budget horror film made by a first time crew. The seams show repeatedly. The camera positions are frequently awkward, sometimes creating unintentional dutch angles. The editing can be hazardous and sudden at times. The film is scored with stock library music which frequently blares and is as inelegant as possible. The story has a thrown-together quality at times, reminding the viewer how quickly and cheaply it was shot. George had a lot of stuff on his mind but the writing is still, at times, pulpy. Barbara is a defenseless woman who spends half of the movie as a frantic wreck and the other half unconscious on a couch. There are long sequences of characters walking through the house or boarding up windows which come off slightly as padding.

If "Night" wasn't remember for birthing the modern zombie genre, it would be remember for its then-shocking amount of gore. The movie was released in a post-"Blood Feast" world so it's not like splatter films were a new concept. However, no movie before "Night" treated gore in such a visceral way. Zombies have bloody holes blown through them, which they easily shrug off. Ben stabs one ghoul in the head with a tire iron. The most infamous moment follows the explosion of the pick-up truck. An undead orgy of feasting follows, the zombies fighting over a trail of intestines and chomping down on organs and body parts. Though crude, the gore is still sickening today strictly because of the matter-of-fact way its handled. The film is going for shocks. A little girl stabs her mother to death with a trowel before gnawing on her dad's arm. Ultimately, the downbeat, bleak tone of "Night of the Living Dead" grants its violence more power. This is a world without happy endings. The government doesn't swoop in at the end to the save the day, like "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." Instead, slack-jawed rednecks shoot the hero in the head, mistaking him for a zombie. The ending is sudden and nihilistic but more than makes its point.

A strong helps seal the deal. Duane Jones is charismatic and gives a committed performance, even making Romero's sometimes awkward dialogue work. Karl Hardman is also notable as the bristly, hard-edged Harry Cooper. Some of the actors, like Keith Wayne or Judith Ridley, aren't as good though, giving stiff performances. Sometimes the low budget details are distracting, sometimes they are affective. Either way, "Night of the Living Dead" is unforgettable, still scary to this day, and surely one of the most influential horror films ever made.

Turtle-Mania peaked in the early nineties, with the cartoon soaring in the ratings, the toys flying off the shelves, and the Turtles' faces slapped on every sort of merchandise imaginable. The first film fed off that excitement, being so successful that it was, for a time, the highest grossing independent film ever. A sequel had to happen. And fast. Nearly a year after the original, "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze" ninja-chopped into theaters.

The film is a direct sequel, picking up days after the first. The Ninja Teens are still high on their victory over Shredder, despite Splinter's insistence that they focus on their studies. Shredder isn't dead though, somehow surviving a seven-story drop into a garbage truck. With a more messed-up face, Shredder pulls together the Foot in order to exact revenge on the Turtles. That revenge takes the form of the ooze that birthed the Turtles. The bad guys steal the last of the ooze in order to create two mutants, the brutish but child-like Tokka and Rahzar. The same ooze leads the TMNT to understand their past.

Something I admire about the original film is how deftly it balanced the goofiness of the popular cartoon with the grittiness of the comics. "Secret of the Ooze" has no interest in balance. In the first film, the Turtles smash a light before attacking, avoiding detection. In the opening of this film, the team step in full view of a human, dispatching their enemies with slapstick comedy. So much for the Art of Invisibility. In that first scene, Mikey fights with a yoyo and sausage links. Donnie pretends to be an inflatable clown, whacking a guy with a foam bat. That silliness infects the entire production. While attempting to grab the mutagen away from the Foot Clan, the Turtles enact a game of football, surfing on office chairs. Previously, the Foot was a serious threat. This time, they're a joke, not a one putting up a fight. Tokka and Rahzar aren't much of a threat either. Their childish minds make them easy to outsmart. The worst thing they do is knock down telephone poles and flip a car. Even that scene is undermined by wise-cracking old people.

"Secret of the Ooze" was rushed into production. That shows in its ramshackle plot. There are elements that work. The mutagen's origin, an accidental mixture of chemicals, is satisfying. David Warner's Professor Perry is a decent addition. He advances the plot while having a personality. However, the plot mostly seems thrown together. The Turtles searching for a new home is decent but stumbling upon the abandoned train station is awfully convenient. The movie introduces a new character, karate pizza boy Keno. Keno, played by an overly earnest Ernie Reyes Jr., is annoying. He disappears for long stretches. He exists to help Raph infiltrate the Foot, which promptly gets the Turtle captured. The heroes escape that trap easily before willingly walking back into Shredder's lair. Combat between the Ninja Teens and Tokka and Rahzar is never delivered. Every time it looks like the fight is about to click, the movie is sidelined by goofy comedy.

The biggest indignity faces the Turtles in the last act. The Foot's junkyard base is apparently located next to a dance club. The fight tumbles into the club where Vanilla Ice, signifier of nineties schlock, is performing. The patrons don't flee from the fighting terrapins. Instead, the funky white boy improvises a rap, the club playing along. Tokka and Rahzar are easily defeated, the Professor pulling a plot resolution out of nowhere. Despite the movie around him being a goofball comedy, Shredder remained a serious villain. He grabs a dancer and threatens to slash her throat. The Turtles' response? Michelangelo performs a sweet keytar solo, causing a speaker to explode, launching the villain into the equally improbable dock outside. The film wraps up on the potentially cool idea of Shredder drinking the last of the ooze, transforming into Super-Shredder. (Even if his armor mutating makes zero sense.) However, the neatness of that idea is undermined by the Turtles refusing to fight and the villain ending his own life by needlessly collapsing the dock.

The film is a mess of campiness and squandered potential. Yet the movie still gets a few things right. The characterizations of the Turtles remain strong. A concept that reoccurs throughout every version of the franchise is Leo and Raph butting heads. Here, the head-strong Raphael wants to pursue the Foot Clan while Leonardo is more preoccupied with finding a new home. That rashness gets him in trouble, again, and after rescuing him, the brothers are reunited. Donatello was mostly Mikey's comedic foil in the first film. Here, he gets a juicy character arc of not accepting the casualness of their origin. He is also more fully established as the one who does machine, as his techno know-how comes in handy a few times. I even prefer Adam Carl's thoughtful vocal performance over Corey Feldman's. I also like Paige Turco as April more then Judith Hoag. Turco seems more comfortable in the part. The creature effects are even better then last time too. The Turtles' faces reach a new level of expressiveness. Tokka and Rahzar are memorably cartoonish in their designs as well.

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze" is a lesser film than the first. The sloppy screenplay and an abundance of kid-friendly silliness sinks it. However, I can't hate the movie. Any film that gifts the world of pop culture with a bit of ridiculous cheese like the Ninja Rap can't be all bad. However, I have a lot less nostalgic affection for this one. Instead of playing off the original's good example, it's more-or-less the silly kid's flick we expected the first one to be.

The Ninja Turtles I most remember are those of the movies. I watched the Fred Wolf produced animated series that ran from 1987 to 1996. Revisiting the series recently, it's not good in any traditional sense. Even its best episodes were devoted to selling toys. Most of the time, it was a goofy sitcom. As part of my retrospective, I gave the 2003 cartoon a look. The series has a devoted following. It's beautifully animated and clearly put more thought into its writing than the '87 series. However, it's not my Ninja Turtles. After marathoning a handful of episodes, the series' heavily serialized storytelling burnt me out. Even if I'm not the biggest fan of the millennial Turtles, I couldn't resist the siren call of "Turtles Forever," the feature length series finale that had the more serious iteration teaming up with the goofier one.

"Turtles Forever" begins in the world of the 2003 series. The Turtles' lives are interrupted when news breaks of humanoid turtles foiling a heist. The Ninjas are confused because it isn't them. Soon, they meet up with their doppelgangers, the cornball Turtles from the '87 series. A trans-dimensional wedgie has landed the old turtles in the new turtles' world, with Shredder, Krang, and the Technodrome close behind. The incompetent '80s Shredder quickly locates his millennial counterpart. However, this new Shredder is a ruthless sociopath and quickly takes over the Technodrome. Aware of the TMNT multi-verse, Nu-Shredder is determined to track down the Prime Universe and wipe out every incarnation of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that have ever existed.

Most of the fun of "Turtles Forever" comes from contrasting two wildly divergent variations of the same characters. The millennial Turtles are widely a serious, focused lot. The classic Turtles, meanwhile, crack jokes at every opportunity. Instead of using stealth and ninjitsu to get the drop on their enemies, the original Turtles walk down the street in broad daylight, sauntering into a pizza parlor for a slice. Most of the later Ninjas are baffled by their counterparts. Raphael is especially annoyed by the constant joking. Michaelangelo finds them amusing at first but quickly grows tired of their constant flippantness. Some of the best jokes in the film involve classic Raphael making some of his trademark forth-wall breaking comments, which everyone else in the film find confounding. At first, I thought the newer series was being too hard on the original variations. The Party Wagon and Turtle Blimp both get trashed as useless vehicles. When arriving in the Fred Wolf dimension, the heroes have to rescue April from anthromorphized bananas. I mean, the eighties series was goofy but I don't think it was never that goofy.

However, the filmmakers were aware enough to play both sides. A sweet moment has the neo-TMNT find the classic version of Splinter as comforting as their own. The climax of the film has both Turtle teams arriving in the Prime Universe. That is, the universe of the original Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird comics. The gray scale Turtles speak in gritty Frank Miller-style voice-over and are incessantly violent. They decry both newer versions as sell-outs. Even more amusingly, the comic version of Shredder is quickly disposed of, no doubt a reference to the character being an unimportant villain in the source material. The film is enough of a fan service-filled nerd-experience that it gives shout-outs to most every version of the Turtles that have ever existed, even the weird anime ones. (Though "The Next Mutation" and the "Coming Out of Their Shells Tour" are notably absent. Well, maybe not so notably.) Another fun thing "Turtles Forever" does is show that the eighties Shredder and Krang could have been competent villains. '03 Shredder arms himself with Dimension X technology. He remakes the useless robot Foot Soldiers into fearsome cyborgs. The mutagen is used to transform a horde of minions into super-mutants. Reoccurring villain Han more-or-less becomes a new take on Slash. Meanwhile, Tokka and Rahzar get brief cameos. The Technodrome itself is rebuilt as a floating, laser-spewing Death Star. The scene where the re-decoed Technodrome attacks New York, bursting out of ground and causing panic, is one of the best in the film. At the very end, nu-Shredder, who is apparently an Umtron alien or somethin', wears his own version of Krang's growing suit. When the two face off, he proves how superior his technology is. The new version of Shredder is so ruthless, he truly is willing to destroy himself if it means wiping out his arch-enemies. The respective universe vanishing are presented in a clever way. The color fades away and then everyone is rendered as crude pencil drawings before vanishing all-together.

The cleverness of the film is best emphasized during its end. After pumping the Shredder up as the baddest dude in the multi-verse, he's taken out accidentally by Bebop and Rocksteady. The final scene has the different Turtle teams returning to their respective universe. The Mirage Turtles rush off, hardboiled monologues playing overhead. During the final minutes, the camera pulls back, showing the characters as comic illustrations. From off-screen, we hear Eastman and Laird discuss the uncertain future of their then-new property. It's a cute, even charming, moment and one that marks the film as a labor of love.

"Turtles Forever" is probably for die-hard fans of the franchise only. There's not much to the film and it feels more like a midnight snack then a proper cinematic meal. Yet the only real disappointment I have is that it couldn't get the original '87 cast members back because of some union stuff. The sound-alikes they use are fairly convincing. The movie acknowledges the pros and cons of both cartoons while sneaking in plenty of in-jokes. Even as someone who only casually likes both Turtles cartoons, I still had a good time with it.

When it was announced that Michael Bay was producing a new film version of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the internet's reaction was not positive. However, Bay himself was not directing this newest incarnation. Instead, he was merely producing it. The chosen director, Jonathan Liesbesman, had directed "Battle: Los Angeles" and "Wrath of the Titans," which did little to raise fans' spirits. By the time Megan Fox had been cast as April O'Neil, it seemed like Bay was actively trolling TMNT enthusiasts. Going into 2014's "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," my expectations were very low.

April O'Neil is a fluff reporter for Channel 6 and desperate to break into serious journalism. Her break comes when she spots four vigilantes fighting the Foot Clan, a terrorist organization that has New York City gripped with fear. As the title gives away, these vigilantes aren't humans but Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Working with the teens, O'Neil uncovers a conspiracy involving scientist Eric Sacks, the Foot Clan, and her late father.

The internet was outraged when a script, where the title characters were aliens, leaked. The final film ejected that idea. However, it still makes some questionable alterations. A pet peeve I have with modern blockbusters is the insistence that the heroes and villains have intertwining origins. This "TMNT" leans on this hard. April isn't just a lucky reporter. Instead, her father's experiments were responsible for creating Splinter and the Turtles. That's a major change but it's not what bothers me. Instead of learning ninjitsu from Hamato Yoshi, Splinter learns martial arts from a pamphlet he finds. This is a major betrayal of the source material. There's little focus on the Art of Invisibility. Of all the adjectives in the title, "Ninja" is the one least invested in.

The film maintains the villain of Shredder. Despite early reports, Sacks never dons the armor. Oroku Saki is still the Shredder. The two villains are working together to further their evil schemes. This is why Shredder is outfitted with hi-tech armor. However, the Foot aren't ninjas anymore but generic bad guys. By removing Hamato Yoshi from the story, there is no preexisting rivalry between Splinter and Shredder. There's no reason for Shredder to hate the Turtles. The heroes stumble upon their most important adversary.

Michael Bay didn't direct "Ninja Turtles" but his fingerprints are all over it. Jonathan Liesbesman maintains his boss' trademarks. The film has the same gritty but polished look. Sea-sick green lighting crops up. Sweeping crane shots are indulged in excessively. During several scenes, the camera jerks spasmodically. Liesbesman throws in Bay's most obnoxious habits. There are spinning loop-da-loop shots, lingering close-ups on cars, and in-your-face product placement. You'd think "Ninja Turtles" was a Michael Bay joint if it wasn't for two things: The military has no role and it isn't three hours long.

This "Ninja Turtles" has the most in common with the 1987 cartoon. April works for Channel 6. Her boss, played by Whoopi Goldberg, is Bernadette Thompson. Her co-worker is Vernon. However, the movie even messes that up. In the cartoon, Vernon was a foil to April, constantly undermining her. Here, Vernon is a middle-age guy who has the hots for April. This raises the question of why the movie bothered.

Despite featuring the rest of the Channel 6 team, the film leaves out April's best friend, Irma. The film even had the opportunity to include her, since April has a disbelieving room mate. Aside from Shredder, Sacks is the secondary antagonist. Sacks was invented for the film. Traditionally, the mad scientist in the Turtles-verse is Baxter Stockman. Why invent a new character when an established one could have filled the role? According to IMDb, Stockman is in the movie. I didn't spot him. Fichtner is decent and even brings some villainous glee to his lines. However, the character is ultimately forgettable.

Which brings me to the Turtles. Much has been written about the newest designs, about how they're ugly. Their heads are small. Their bodies are hulking. However, perhaps mutated turtles should be ugly. What pushes them into the Uncanny Valley is the human-like nostrils and lips. Yet the designs grew on me. I like the decision to personalize each Turtle. Leonardo sports samurai armor. Raphael keeps sunglasses on his head. Donatello sports high-tech goggles, an electronic backpack, and rigs his bo with hydraulics. He's also turned into a nerd stereotype, with his duct-tape mended glasses and snorting laughter. Michaelangelo is still a party dude but draws from modern hip-hop culture. Splinter makes it out the best, looking exactly like what he is: A giant rat.

What little of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" that works has to do with how the Turtles act. The film, more or less, nails the teens' personalities. Leonardo is the stoic leader. Donatello's technical know-how gets the gang out of scraps. Raph has to grabble with his anger and butts heads with his brothers. Yet the four are family. A moment near the end has him confessing how much they mean to him. Getting the most bad press is Michaelangelo. Mikey has an obvious crush on April and the film takes it too far. However, his role as the funny one is fulfilled with several amusing lines. While ascending an elevator, Mikey starts to mindlessly beatbox. Instead of shouting him down, Raphael joins in, followed by the others. It's a hilarious moment that roots the theatrical action in some sort of humanity.

There's still a lot of April O'Neil. Megan Fox's acting skills have graduated from stiff to forgettable. Liesbesman comes close to engineering memorable action scenes. The sound design is deafening. The musical score shamelessly patterns itself after Hans Zimmer's work. For every element I like, there's something else I can complain about.

Does it work? It is not terrible. It is also not good. The film is not a monstrosity, just a mediocre studio product. It is also not the worst Ninja Turtles film.

By 1993, the Ninja Turtles franchise continued to be enormously popular. However, its grasp on the kiddy zeitgeist was starting to slip. Critically acclaimed adaptations of superheroes, like "Batman: The Animated Series," had inched in on the Turtles' territory. The Turtles were no longer as hip among the playground crowd. These things I can attest to, as I was there. A few months after "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III" was released, the Power Rangers would premiere, stealing the TMNT's thunder, quickly eclipsing the older series in popularity. But before that happened, the Green Machine went back in time.

The film begins with the Heroes Four at ease, practicing via synchronized dance moves. April climbs down the ladder, barring gifts from Japan. Among those gifts is a golden scepter. When holding it, April is thrown back in time to 1700's Japan. A prince is teleported to the modern day in her place. Determined to rescue their friend, the Turtles quickly decipher the mechanics of the device, heading into the past after her. Once in Edo era Nippon, the turtles are embroiled in a plot involving an English trader selling guns to the samurai lord, eager to use the weapons in war, something his son is strictly against.

"Ninja Turtles III" is not well regarded. Most consider the film the long-running series' nadir. As a kid, I remember being disappointed because the villain wasn't Krang. Now that Shredder's dead, that's the second most important villain, right? Or how about Baxter Stockman or Slash? I wasn't alone in that disappointment. The film, instead, breaks wildly from Turtles canon, featuring an original story populated with new characters. It takes the characters out their urban setting, putting them in a different time. It's a Ninja Turtles movie where ninjitsu plays a small role. The Teens spent most of the film dressed as Samurai. Yet it's not fair to judge III for what it isn't.

So why do people hate this movie so much? The number one reason is doubtlessly the steep drop in quality concerning the special effects. The Jim Henson Creature Shop, who provided the fantastic suits for the last two films, passed on this one, leaving the effects duties to less disciplined hands. The animatronic heads are less expressive, with blockier faces and more exaggerated features. Whenever they have to talk or express emotion, the fakeness of the suit become apparent. The Turtles' look more rubbery and their skin is dotted with odd liver spots. Splinter, meanwhile, is obviously a hand-puppet, as you never see his legs. While the last two films convinced you that these puppets were real characters, here they look like the unconvincing special effects they are.

There are other reasons "Ninja Turtles III" is considered the crappy one. The film has an obnoxious sense of humor. Throughout the entire film, the Turtles repeatedly drop random pop culture references, many of which have little relevance to the actual plot. There's no reason for the characters to mention the Addams Family, Elvis, or Clint Eastwood and even fewer reasons for the film to find such references so inherently hilarious. While the Turtles are in the past, Casey Jones has to take care of four ancient samurais in modern day New York. He does this by teaching them hockey and taking them out to a dance club, which leads to broad, embarrassing comedy. In the past, the Turtles obsess with Wet Willies and mock a fat dungeon master. It's not sophisticated, is what I'm saying.

Moreover, the movie's plot isn't very interesting. Some consider the time travel device too far fetched but I don't think that washes, considering the silly things Turtle fans do accept. Walker is a fairly generic bad guy, motivated by simple greed. The exact reasons he and the samurai lord are working together aren't elaborated on much. His death scene is also super stupid. The looming threat of war is mostly kept off-screen. The film is also poorly paced. After arriving in the past, there are some action scenes with the Turtles attempting to rescue Mikey. After that, the story relaxes into a long, leisurely sequence of the Turtles hanging out in the village. Donnie is preoccupied with going home. Raph befriends a young child who he thinks is too serious. Mikey, meanwhile, starts to fall for Mitsu, the human samurai chick that is actually the time-displaced Kenshin's love interest. Not until the very end, when the Turtles make their way back to the castle, does the plot begin to move again. And that plot is a fairly uninspired MacGuffin chase, the Turtles chasing after the scepter that can take them back home.

But I don't hate "TMNT III" and am coming awfully close to calling it underrated. The film tries something different with the characters. The relationship Raphael forms with young Yoshi comes close to being touching, as it finds the turtle confronting his own angry personality. Michelangelo developing feelings for a human female might strike you as odd but it forms into an interesting storyline, especially when the turtle debates staying behind in the Feudal Japan. The story may be poorly paced but I appreciate the filmmakers attempting to tell a lower-key tale. Elias Koteas and Paige Turco are back and both give decent performances. Lame as the character may be, Stuart Wilson at least has some hammy fun as Walker. The action scenes are surprisingly well choreographed and features the Turtles using their weapons more then part 2 did.

The film still opened number 1 at the box office but didn't have the staying power of the previous flicks. Despite plans for a fourth film, the series took an extended break from theaters. "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III" is ultimately a failure but it's an interesting failure that attempted to take the franchise in a different direction. It didn't do it well but at least it tried.

Despite dominating pop culture during the early nineties, the Ninja Turtles seemed to vanish around the middle of the decade. Yet the World's Most Fearsome Fighting Team never truly went away. The cartoon ran until 1996. Comics were published in one form or another for most of the decade. A new cartoon launched in 2003, ran for seven years, but failed to capture the public's imagination like the original did. There was even a misbegotten live-action series. A new film was rumored for years, at one point taking the form of a CGI/live action combo directed by John Woo. A new movie didn't solidify until studio Imagi decided to make an animated feature, titled "TMNT." Though sold as a reboot, "TMNT" is actually a stealth sequel. At the onset, the Turtles are in crisis. Leonardo has spent years in South America, helping out locals in need. Back home, Raphael has assumed the identity of a vigilante called the Night Watcher. Donatello works tech support while Michelangelo is a kids' party entertainer. April O'Neil and Casey Jones have shacked up. A plot involving the Foot Clan and an eccentric millionaire collecting statues draws the Turtles back together.

Considering the Turtles have existed in illustrated form throughout their lifetime, it's surprising no one previously attempted an animated feature. This is both a blessing and a curse. In animation, the Turtles' adventures can have a scope previously unseen. The journey here is epic, spanning eons. The action scenes are bigger. At the end, the Turtles face an army of Foot Soldiers. "TMNT" is easily the widest reaching of any of the features.

The problem is "TMNT" was not animated by a studio with a limitless budget. I'm not saying it's bad. Light and water are utilized well. The animation on the main characters is good. However, a number of sequences feel too much like video game cut scenes. The models are occasionally weightless. Backgrounds can be flat. The designs for the Turtles and Splinter are neat but the human characters are uninspired. It's obvious the animators did the best they could with what they had but this is not Pixar quality.

I'm not super fond of the plot either. The screenwriters wanted to squeeze an entire season's worth of characters into one movie. The antagonist of the film is billionaire Max Winters. Winters is actually an immortal warlord who, millennia ago, fought along a band of warriors. Warriors that got turned to stone when a special portal was opened that unleashed thirteen monsters. Winters gathers the statues back together, causing his stone warriors to spring to life. In order to regain their mortality, Winters must gather the monsters together and send them back to their home dimension. In order to pull this off, he's enlisted the Foot Clan, now led by Karai, whom comic readers know as the Shredder's eventual successor. Bringing in Karai is a natural decision, especially if this film is meant to follow the nineties films. But the rest of the plot? I nearly fell asleep typing that out. The plot is a generic fantasy quest with about three MacGuffins too many. The runtime is packed full of unique characters so there would be plenty of toy opportunities.

However, the bland storyline almost doesn't matter. "TMNT" gets the important stuff right. Leonardo's self-doubt over his leadership skills has caused him to flee New York. Attempting to put the team back together is his primary struggle throughout the film. While the other brothers have tried to live professional lives, Raphael has never given up fighting crime. The rivalry between Leo and Raph is something every version of the series has touched on. However, for the first time, the two actually come to blows. Twenty years of anticipation pays off as the two strongest turtles fight on-screen. And it's glorious. Now only is the fight easily the best moment in the film, it's also rift with feeling. Leo says some hurtful things as emotions boil over. Raph lets his anger take over, beating his brother into submission. Until he realizes what he has done, fleeing the scene, fighting back tears. Upon returning home, Raphael throws himself on Splinter's mercy. As always, he is the forgiving father. The brotherly bond, and a willingness to forgive, has been at this franchise's heart from the beginning. "TMNT" stays true to that tradition why moving it into unseen territory.

Many animated films cast face actors over experienced voice actors. "TMNT" is only partially guilty of this. The roles of the Turtles are played by experienced voice actors. Many of which, like Nolan North as Raphael, do fine work. Celebs are cast in the various supporting roles. Mako is a fine Splinter, as the actor had years of experience playing wise old Asian men. Patrick Stewart has a strong enough voice to carry the thin role of Winters. However, some of the choices are questionable. Sarah Michelle Gellar gives an uneven performance, as she doesn't always seem invested in the material. Chris Evans probably would have made a fine live-action Casey Jones. He can do palooka well. Zhang Ziyi, similarly, would have been great as Karai. However, neither have much vocal strength and both seem ill-suited to a voice only performances.

Okay, you could say that Donnie and Mikey get shafted. Like they always do. I miss April's day job as a reporter. Oh, and the pop-punk filled soundtrack is atrocious. The plot may be full of nonsense. Yet "TMNT" is a solid addition to the series. The Turtles act as they should, Splinter gets to kick some ass, and the film still packs in some honest emotion. I like the film enough that I'm still disappointed that if failed to reignite Turtle Fever. Though successful, the teased sequel never came to be and Imagi went out-of-business only a few years later. It's a good start and could have led to great things.

Growing up in the early nineties, I was right in the demographic for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles merchandising juggernaut. The Turtles are the earliest fad I can remember being invested in. In preparation for the new film, I revisited the original Ninja Turtles cartoon. Which made me realize the version of the Turtles I have nostalgia for isn't the goofy animated series but rather the live action film.

In theory, a live action Turtles movie sounds terrible. The series' premise, laid out in its title, is intentionally absurd, meant to mock the comic trends of the time. Despite the comical premise, those comics are fairly violent. The film takes many cues from those stories. The plot – which shows the Turtles' first encounter with April O'Neil, Raphael meeting Casey Jones, the rivalry between Splinter and the Foot, and the showdown with Shredder – is straight from the source material. By following the comics closely, the film is lent a grittiness which helps the ridiculous premise go down easier. The filmmakers were smart enough to realize that the cartoon, silly as it was, was the popular incarnation of the characters. So April O'Neil is a reporter, Michelangelo spouts surfer slang, the Turtles love pizza, and Leonardo's swords draw blood only once. There's even a few shout-outs to the show, like April's yellow trench coat or the heroes tooling around in a VW van.

By blending the comic and the cartoon, the film achieves an impressive tonal balancing act. "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" is still considerably edgier then the cartoon. Raphael shouts "Damn!" so much that it almost becomes his catchphrase. Unlike the cartoon, there are real risks involved. The Foot intends on killing the Turtles. They torture Splinter and burn down April's shop. Shredder runs a crime cartel, uninterested in world domination. Yet the film indulges in slapstick goofiness. Michelangelo goofs around during the fight scene. There's even silly sound effects when Donatello squirts water in the ninjas' faces. The fight scenes are far-fetched enough that I'm baffled the film was criticized for its violence upon release.

What ultimately holds the movie together isn't its mixture of grit and goof but its sincerity. The film firmly grasps the Turtles' personalities. Leonardo is the leader. Though seemingly self-assured, and easily holding the team together, he is gripped with self-doubt. Raphael is less cool and rude then a rage-oholic. Anger boils inside of him, only vented by beating random street vigilantes. That rage forces a schism between Raph and his brothers. Early on, during a surprising scene, Splinter reminds Raph that his family is there to help him. That emphasis on familial love forms the film's heart. The rivalry between Leo and Raph drives the middle portion and their reconciliation creates a strong dynamic for the finale. The Turtles' bond holds them together and Splinter's fatherly love connects them. The four are reduced to tears when their father calls to them using mystical joo-joo.

Many flicks of the time had anti-crime messages, encouraging kids to stay away from drugs and gangs. "TMNT" has one of those too, yet never feels preachy. The warehouse where the Foot Clan hangs out reminded me of "Pinocchio's" Pleasure Island. The teens play video games, skate board, and dance. The limits of a PG prevent the sex and drugs from being on screen but both are implied. The kids in the Foot Clan have troubled home lives. Without laying it on too thick, the script understands that the kids' anger is born of pain and rejection. Shredder and the Foot Clan preys on that vulnerability, creating a place where the boys feel accepted, all while indoctrinating them into a life of crime. The Turtles' bond gives them strength. The same sort of acceptance is what the troubled youths need and what Danny, the young boy that moves the plot along, ultimately accepts. The film doesn't hammer home this moral, instead letting it breath naturally.

Something people probably don't talk about much is how good "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" look. Director Steve Barron didn't have the most notable resume before this, mostly directing music videos, previous Jim Henson productions, and cult classic "Electric Dreams." Yet his "Ninja Turtles" is handsome. The sets are beautifully constructed, subtly invoking the look of the original comics. There's a surprising moodiness to Barron's composition. The scene where Splinter and Raphael talk is filmed in intimate close-up, the room behind them dark. Shredder's first appearance has his shadow dramatically cast on the floor. The way the camera emphasizes the sharp curves of his armor draws a direct line from Darth Vader to the Shredder. The villains' final showdown with the heroes is seriously tense. Moreover, the special effects in the film are fantastic. The Turtle suits are beautifully realized. While watching, never once did I see the Turtles as anything other then living characters. They blink, smile, gasps, and talk seamlessly. Even the fight scenes are believably pulled off, which is impressive since I'm sure the actors inside the suits could barely see.

In conclusion, "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie" might be my favorite incarnation of the characters. More or less everything I associate with the franchise is proudly, and fantastically, represented here. Elias Koteas is perfectly cast as Casey Jones. The film moves along at a smooth rate, even allowing for quieter moments like the extended stay on the farm. Really, the only issue I can pick with the film is that Michelangelo and Donatello get the short stick as far as characterization goes. The movie has aged fairly well, aside from a one-off reference to "Moonlighting" and some synth-clicking on the otherwise fantastic score. (Oh, and "Turtle Power," I guess.) Maybe it's the nostalgia talking, but I think it's true now as it was when I was six years old: This movie is awesome.

Hammer had upped the sex and gore in their movies but were still loosing ground to more modern horror. Perhaps missing the point, Hammer decided to update their biggest franchise. Dracula was, as the awesome trailer says, coming to the 1970s to "freak you out." The film also reunites Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, Dracula and Van Helsing facing off once more. The tactic didn't work and the film wasn't successful. "Dracula 1972 AD" would be the beginning of the end for Hammer's Dracula series.

"Dracula 1972 AD" opens with a flashback. Dracula and Van Helsing fight atop a carriage in 1872… Wait. "Horror of Dracula" was set in 1885! You're telling me the first movie took place thirteen years after Dracula and Van Helsing's final fight? If the filmmakers were even paying attention, we can presume this was a continuity reboot. Unless you want me to fanwank an explanation involving identical twins and unseen resurrections… Anyway, 100 years later, a hip Satanist named Johnny Alucard invites his groovy friends to a black mass at an abandoned church. After some Satanic bugaboo, Dracula is resurrected in the swinging seventies. Among Johnny's friend is Jessica Van Helsing, the current Van Helsing's granddaughter. Dracula seeks the girl for revenge.

After the action packed opening, "Dracula 1972 AD" does a dramatic jump cut. We pan up from the carriage to a jet flying through the sky. As we go on a tour of the hip spots of London, circa 1972, a funk-jazz number plays on the soundtrack. Soon, the film transitions to a party where some awful hippy band plays. The uptight social types are aghast at the presentations while the cool kids joke around with them. If the title, music, and fashion didn't clue you in, the obvious way the characters act places this in the seventies. The hippy teenagers are constantly at odds with the adults. Isolated scenes seem less like Hammer horror and more like a teen-targeted social drama.

What does this have to do with Dracula? Not a lot. The title promises Dracula cutting up among the modern world. That doesn't happen. Instead, Lee remains confined to the abandoned church for the entire film. Perhaps Dracula realizes he, still rocking the black cape look, wouldn't fit in. The character's role is quite small. So the film creates a deliberate segregation between Gothic horror and the modern setting. Johnny Alucard brings victims back to the church, where Dracula feeds on them. The king of the vampires hangs out there while his young disciple goes hunting. On the good side, this dynamic is represented by the police collaborating with occult expert Van Helsing. The weirdest part is that director Alan Gibson nails the classic Hammer look. The grey crypt and billowing fog look awesome. But "Dracula 1972 AD" does not do a good job of mingling Gothic horror with a modern setting. Compare this to the same year's "Blacula," which did the same thing more successfully.

With Lee used sparingly, the focus shifts to the kids. How much you enjoy "1972" will depend on how much you enjoy the characters. Johnny Alucard's character arc is identical to Count Courtley from "Taste the Blood of Dracula" except instead of dying, he turns into a vampire. There is a sleazy charm to Alucard stalking women in Soho. The teens are thinly defined. One is a prankster, one is noble, one is black, and then there's the Other Girl. "Dracula 1972 AD" is fortunate to feature two of the most desirable women to ever appear in a Hammer film. Stephanine Beacham plays Jessica. I wish Beacham had more to do, besides be a screaming victim, as she proves likable. She's also always on the verge of exploding out of her tight tops. Meanwhile, achingly beautiful Caroline Munro plays Laura, who is, disappointingly, Dracula's first victim.

For the problems "AD" has, the film does have stand-out moments. The Black Mass sequence is the closest the film comes to being scary. The music builds, smoke rises, Alucard shouts demonic names, and the scene climaxes with Caroline Munro getting blood poured over her cleavage. Cushing's role, though much larger then Lee's, still has limited screen time. Too much of that is devoted to Cushing giving exposition on vampires, which the audience already knows. Cushing, for his benefit, plays this Van Helsing differently then the classic Van Helsing. He's older, more vulnerable to physical violence, and more bookish. When he leaps into action, confronting Alucard in his apartment, he gets wounded at first. However, Van Helsing uses his brain to overcome, reflecting sunlight off a mirror until Alucard falls into a working shower. That's a fun moment. The duel between Lee and Cushing has a tense confrontation in a stairway, makes good use of a silver dagger, and gives Dracula a spectacular death. Dracula tosses Van Helsing outside and goes in for the kill. Suddenly, the hunter tosses holy water into the vampire's face before dropping him in an improvised punji spike pit. Drac squirms as Van Helsing hits him with a shovel, bloodily pushing him through a stake. As far as Dracula's death scenes go, it's up there with the sun-bathed finale in "Horror of Dracula." And, hey, the entire climax features Stephanie Beachum in a low-cut white dress. Which is nice.

Director Alan Gibson has some interesting directorial quirks. He makes good use of close-ups on faces. Something he does repeatedly is place the action in the distance while filling the rest of the frame with negative space. "Dracula 1972 AD" wasn't a hit but has developed a following over the years. It has a funky energy unique among the series even if it doesn't make the best use of Lee and could have done a better job updating the Count for the then-modern day.

"Dracula 1972 AD" failed to set the box office ablaze but Hammer wasn't ready to give up on its biggest franchise. Despite the public's disinterest, the studio pushed ahead with another Dracula film set in the modern day. The gamble didn't pay off the second time either. "The Satanic Rites of Dracula" would be the final Dracula film to feature Christopher Lee.

Hammer's line of thinking clearly was that the public was sick of Gothic horror. "Satanic Rites" jettisons any trace of classic horror. Instead, the film is concerned with espionage action and conspiracy theories. The British Secret Service is investigating Satanic rituals. One features prominent members of society and claims to be raising people from the dead. The government brings in the modern day Van Helsing as a consultant. Van Helsing, teaming with his granddaughter and Detective Murray, quickly deduces that something sinister is afoot. A scientist, who mysteriously died, is connected to the Satanic circle. This traces back to reclusive millionaire D. D. Denham, who is none other then Count Dracula. Sick of his eternal life, Dracula intends to unleash a plague on the world, bringing upon the apocalypse.

There's not much I like about "The Satanic Rites of Dracula" but I'll give the movie one thing. Many of the Hammer Dracula films play fast and loose with continuity. This one is a direct sequel to "Dracula 1972 AD." Peter Cushing plays the same descendant of Van Helsing. He even lives in the same apartment. His granddaughter Jessica, though played by a different actress, is back too, who has matured some in the two years since the last film. Inspector Murray returns as well and is even played by the same guy. The film directly references the end of the last one by pointing out that "D. D. Denham's" business building is built upon the remains of the church where Dracula died last time. About the only plot thread left dangling is how the Count returned to unlife. And even that's easy to address, as a viewer can assume his clan of Satanic followers resurrected him.

Disappointingly, the returning characters are the only thing "The Satanic Rites" has in common with "1972 AD." The movie is not heavy on horror content. And what horror is there is totally different from what we expect. The Satanic rituals, which involve cultist in hoods standing in rooms pouring blood on a naked girl, feel totally of the time. Even Drac gets involved, as he lights black candles while a beautiful woman lies on an altar before him. There are other vampires in the movie. Two scenes take place in a basement where vampire maidens pop out of coffins. However, there's no fog, no old castles, no stone walls. Nothing about these scenes feels like a classic Hammer movie. It's not until the very end of the movie, when Cushing and Lee face off for the final time, that this film begins to feel anything like its predecessors. Van Helsing and Dracula have a stern face-off in a burning room before both flee. Walking into the woods, Dracula stumbles into a hawthorn bush, an obscure vampire weakness, allowing Van Helsing to stake the Count with a fencepost. It's a hugely dubious way to take Dracula out but at least it feels in line with the rest of the series.

Most of "Satanic Rites" doesn't even feel like a horror film though. The film is obviously beholden to "The Avengers" and Roger Moore's Bond films but on a fraction of the budget. The action in the film is mostly limited to guys in fuzzy, suede vest chasing people on motorcycles. One moments has similarly garbed henchmen shooting sniper rifles at the heroes. Despite these unusual action beats, much of the film's runtime is devoted to old British guys sitting around and talking in rooms. There is so much droll exposition in these scenes or long moments of guys reading, watching, or looking at pictures. It's dull and seriously drags the pacing down.

If nothing else, the film has the strength of its performers to fall back on. Peter Cushing is in a lot of the movie, bringing the same level of conviction to the role that he always does. Lee is given more to do then in his last appearance. The vampire count doesn't bite too many beautiful maidens on the neck, save for one scene. Instead, his best moments center on the Count delivering some harsh monologues. Dracula talking about his apocalyptic plans allows Lee to (if you'll excuse the pun) sink his teeth into the hammy dialogue. The final confrontation between the two, where Dracula prepares to bring about the end of the world and Van Helsing stares him down, is easily the best moment of the film. As for the rest of the cast, Michael Coles gets to do some cool stuff as Inspector Murray, staking vampires and throwing some punches. Future comedy superstar Joanna Lumley is less charming then Stephanie Beachum as Jessica and honestly given less to do. It's disappointing that the film reduces the character to a damsel in distress once again.

Director Alan Gibson, returning from "Dracula 1972 AD," is less sturdy this time. He employs rough zoom-ins far too many times. The funky score is pretty catchy though. "The Satanic Rites of Dracula" is a real off entry in the series. The pacing lags horribly, the plot isn't that interesting, and the film barely feels like a Dracula movie. The movie wasn't bad enough to kill the franchise, as Dracula would return in the next year's even odder "Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires." However, it was bad enough to finally make Christopher Lee yell enough. The iconic actor has never put the cape on since. He did not exit on a high note.

Amazingly, Hammer got two Dracula movies out in 1970. "Taste the Blood of Dracula" was released in May. "Scars of Dracula" was released by November. "Taste" had the series moving into more explicit area. "Scars of Dracula" jumps in full-force, being the goriest Dracula film the studio ever produced.

The last few entries took their time resurrecting Dracula. This one gets right to it. A bat drips blood on his ashes, bringing the Prince of Darkness back. And all before the opening credits. Despite dying in England last time, Dracula apparently took the time between movies to move back to Transylvania. As in "Prince of Darkness," a group of unknowing travelers wander into Dracula's castle, each one crossing his path and incurring his wrath. As has happened before, Dracula also pursues a beautiful woman, determined to make her his latest bride.

"Scars of Dracula" is highly uneven. However, it's got two things going for it. First off, it has a fantastic opening. After being revived, Dracula starts preying on the women of the village. The local Transylvanians decide they'd had it up to here and, taking a page from "Frankenstein," head to Drac's castle with torches and pitchforks. The villagers walk away happy in their victory, watching the castle burn in the distance. They return to the church and swing open the door. Inside, their wives and daughters have been torn apart by giant bats. The camera lingers on the gore, zooming in on each torn apart face. One girl dangles off the huge crucifix, her blood dripping on the candles below. The sequence starts the movie off with a bold, bloody exclamation mark. This doesn't even mention the further gore in the movie, like a brutal stabbing, a chopped up body, a heart dissolve in a pool of acid, torture with a red-hot sword, a man impaled on a hook, a priest having his face slashed off by a giant bat, and a man burnt alive.

The last few films wrote around Christopher Lee, limiting his part as much as possible. "Scars," meanwhile, gives Lee more to do. He has a handful of dialogue, greeting guests to his castle, demanding his servant removes a cross from a girl's neck, and sneers at the same servant. Most pressing to horror fans, Dracula is a badass in "Scars." He brutally bites at least two babes. A startling moment has the Count viciously stabbing his unfaithful bride, perhaps the most visceral the Count ever acted in this series. Lee's Dracula never had much interest in bats before. I honestly don't know if bats ever appeared in one of these movies before. This one changes all that. Giant rubber bats, each under the Count's control, fly through the movie. Lee even wields a sword! Lee's Dracula ranks up his highest body count here, with 14 confirmed kills.

It's a good thing the gore is satisfying and Lee is awesome. The rest of "Scars" is all over the place. The film opens with yet another character named Paul, this one played by Christopher Matthews. Paul appears in the bed of a beautiful woman, who gleefully flashes her breasts and butt at the camera. The girl's father chases the guy out. While stopping by his fiancé's birthday, the cops reappear, prompting Paul to leap into the back of a carriage. The carriage carries him to an inn, where he proceeds to seduce the young maid working there. Near minutes after meeting her, Paul has the girl throwing herself at him. Even after finding his way to Dracula's castle, Paul continues to win with the ladies. Dracula's bride Tania, played by the ravishing Anouska Hempel, spends a lustful night with the young man. These moments remind me of the British sex comedies that were gaining ground at the time. They seem quite out of place with the rest of the film.

The worst thing about Paul is that he disappears midway through the film. From there on his brother Simon and his fiancée Sarah assume the lead. Simon is more then ready to take Sarah's hand after his philandering brother disappears. They follow the trail back to Dracula's castle, find out he's a vampire, and wander out. Simon heads back to the castle and Sarah chases after soon after. Makes you wonder why they left in the first place. Meanwhile, the barmaid Paul almost seduced also ends up becoming Dracula's victim. It's a random sequence, the girl just becoming another beautiful victim of the Count. Also floating around the script is Klove, Dracula's man-servant. After seeing a picture of Sarah, he becomes obsessed with the girl. The creepy guy's infatuation with the maiden barely factors into the plot. "Scars of Dracula" is held down by a crowded, unfocused story.

Roy Ward Baker has the distinction of being Hammer's third best director. He couldn't generate suspense like Terrence Fisher. He wasn't as colorful as Freddie Francis. However, Ward brought his own style. The guy fills the sets with red scenery, always suggesting blood even when none is on-screen. Fisher always made his sets look fantastic. Baker makes them look intentionally artificial. Nearly the whole film is set in Dracula's castle. The stones look like foam and the backdrops look like paintings. There's a certain appeal to this. "Scars of Dracula" has a bold comic-book-y look, colorful and fun. Considering how gory the film is, it gives a EC Comics feeling. Baker brought this same sensibility his other Hammer films, like the similarly outrageous "The Vampire Lovers" and "Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde."

With a more focused screenplay and less bumpy pacing, "Scars of Dracula" could have been the best of the series. The messiness is obvious in the ending, where Dracula is struck by a bolt of lightning. It's not the smoothest of the Hammer Dracula flicks though if you're looking for lots of bright blood, plunging necklines, and Christopher Lee being awesome, it will satisfy.

"Taste the Blood of Dracula!" Now that's a title that doesn't mess around! Anyway, the plot: Picking up minutes where the last one left off, a British businessman wanders by just as Dracula is dying. Taking his cape, broach, and a vile of his blood, the man returns to England. Meanwhile, a group of four idle old men spend their nights in brothels. Looking for further experiences, they team up with young Lord Courtley, a budding Satanist. All four get together to revive Dracula, who Courtley is seemingly a big fan of. After the other men refuse, Courtley drinks the Count's blood and dies. Dracula is reborn through his corpse. Alive again, the Count goes after the four men in a poorly defined quest for revenge.

"Taste the Blood of Dracula" was released in 1970. By that point, Hammer was starting to loose ground to more explicit horror films. The film is a good example of how the loosening censors of the time and the studio's need to catch up with other companies. "Taste" is sexier, bloodier, and darker then previous Dracula films. The thrill seekers' late night visit to a brothel provides plenty of titillation and some briefly glimpsed female nudity. When Dracula bites a female victim, the sexual subtext of the act is more obvious then ever before as the girl seems to have an orgasm. As for the violence, aside from the dripping goblet of bubbling Dracula blood, we see a shovel wound to a head in close-up detail, shootings, stabbings, and easily the most graphic impalement ever seen in one of these films. For extra points, a living human is staked, proving that procedure works just as well on the living as it does the dead.

The movie is darker in tone too. While Dracula's always been the Prince of Darkness, this is the first in the series to explicitly reference the Count's Satanic roots. Actually, quite a lot of attention is paid to Satanism and the dark arts. Predicting what would happen in the eighties with the famous slasher villains, "Taste the Blood of Dracula" is obviously on the vampire's side. The four men he's hunting down are a despicable lot. Geoffrey Keen's William Hargood is a hypocrite who spends the night in whore houses but forbids his daughter from going out. He's also an alcoholic who, in one drunken scene, attempts to whip his daughter with a riding crop. The other two are cowardly jerks who are more then willing to let a murder just happen. The audience is rooting for Drac to take these a-holes out.

As is commonplace by now, the script was written so that Christopher Lee would have as small a role as possible. Originally, he wasn't even supposed to be in the movie. The first half of the film focuses on the wicked old men and how they eventually resurrect the Count. Even if the thrill seekers are unpleasant folks, this part of the film packs in enough cheap thrills to keep you watching. More over, Hammer assembles another great cast. Ralph Bates, especially, tears it up as the wicked Courtley. Keen is seriously hate-able while Peter Sallis and John Carson are slightly more sympathetic as the other two members. After all that build-up, it's a blast watching the Count work his way through the cast.

After the Thriller Seekers are eliminated, "Taste the Blood of Dracula" falls into a less interesting pattern. As is the way by now, Dracula targets young women. In this case, he hypnotizes Alice, the daughter of Hargood, and bites another girl named Lucy, this one being the daughter of Peter Sallis' character. Instead of getting his hands dirty, Dracula has the girls do his work for him. (Linda Hayden and Isla Blair both look nice in the low-cut gowns, providing the required amount of heaving bosoms.) Once the fathers are gone, Alice's boyfriend – another guy named Paul – sets about saving her from the Count. This leads to one of the lamest endings in the Hammer cannon. Dracula had set up camp in a desecrated church, which was maybe not the best decision. Paul adds all the crosses back to the church, re-blessing the place, all under Dracula's nose. Upon realizing that his crib is covered with Christian symbols, Drac freaks out, falls off a balcony, and turns to dust. Not the most dignified way for the greatest vampire in the world to go.

The film was directed by Peter Sasdy, a minor Hammer director who also handled "Countess Dracula" and "Hands of the Ripper." (In addition to Brit-horror cult classic "The Stone Tape," which I keep meaning to check out.) Sasdy is not as good at building tension as Terence Fisher nor as flashy as Freddie Francis. Indeed, Sasdy's direction is probably why "Taste the Blood of Dracula" is the first Hammer-Drac flick to lack any scares what so ever. But Sasdy has his moment. The guy throws in some British fog. The graveyard and old church sets all look fantastic. Sasdy shows a decent use of shadow and I like how he shines a light on Lee's face, bringing the Lugosi film to mind.

"Taste the Blood of Dracula," awesome title and all, is probably the weakest of Hammer's Dracula films thus far. After getting off to a decent start, the film really falters in its second half and wraps up on a seriously disappointing ending. Yet it still maintains the Hammer house style and provides the fun viewers are looking for.

By 1957, Hammer Studios already had big hits with horror flicks "The Quatermass Xperiment" and "Curse of Frankenstein." After the success of "Frankenstein," it made sense for the studio to tackle Dracula next. The same team was enlisted. Terence Fisher would direct while Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee would star again. This time, Lee would get to show his face. His iconic turn as the vampire Count would define the character for an entire generation of monster fans.

The studio loosely adapts Bram Stoker's original novel, condescending the story. Renfield is excised entirely, with Jonathan Harker's journey to Dracula's castle happening at the start of the film. Harker is no longer an unwilling victim of Dracula. Instead, he is in league with Van Helsing, aware of the Count's vampiric nature, explicitly sent there to destroy him. Dr. Seward is reduced to a minor part, his role filled by Arthur, a minor character from the book. Mina is now his wife while Lucy is his significantly younger sister. (This film is also the first to switch the character's hair color, Lucy inheriting Mina's trademark red locks.) Carfax Abbey isn't in the film either. Instead, Dracula comes to England directly to enact revenge on Harker and Van Helsing. While the liberties taken with the source material might annoy some, the changes help distinguish this "Dracula" from previous versions.

The story changes also expedite the pacing. "Horror of Dracula" is one of the fastest moving Dracula adaptations ever made. Dracula never introduces himself to Mina and Lucy's family. He heads right for the girls' bedrooms, coming to attack them in the night. Van Helsing is always on the move here, constantly chasing after his adversary. Cleverly, he never stops to deliver vampire exposition to the audience. Instead, that information is skillfully dropped during other scenes. Action is emphasized here. Dracula leaps across a table to toss his bride away from Harker. The last act is an extended chase sequence, Dracula fleeing with Mina while Van Helsing and Arthur head after them. At the finale, the film turns into a full-blown action flick, while Dracula and his adversary battle each other in his castle. The vampire tosses candles at the hunter, attempting to hold him down and bite him. The finishing blow comes when Van Helsing leaps across a table, pulling the curtain down, and flooding the room with sun light. A finale this exciting and action-packed stands in contrast to Bela Lugosi being staked off-screen at the end of the 1931 version.

Hammer would revitalize the classic monsters in another way. At the end of the opening credits, blood splatters on Dracula's casket. The film continues to up the gore throughout. Vampire bites are no longer bloodless. Now, they are always accompanied by blood running down faces. Lucy's staking was probably considered the most graphic scene back in 1957. Blood pools out around the wound while the camera focuses on her writhing, agonized face. Dracula's demise, crumbling to ash in the sunlight, is shown in extended detail. However, Hammer didn't just up the blood content of these classic stories. "Horror of Dracula" does not feature as much blatant sexuality as future films would. Dracula's bride shows some cleavage but her gown is not as plunging as you might expect. Instead, the edgy sexual content is implied. Dracula looms over Lucy, laying terrified in her bed. The scene is obviously reminiscent of a rape. When Dracula comes for Mina, he corners her in her room, pushing her onto the bite. Before biting her, he caresses her face and smells her skin. That moment is dark and thrilling enough that it still manages to scare even today.

Part of that scare factor can be attributed to Christopher Lee's imposing presence. The Count has little dialogue. Mostly, he glares and hisses. Lee is totally in control of the material. His Dracula is inhumanely powerful and difficult to resist. Up against this frightening enemy is Peter Cushing as Van Helsing. Van Helsing is a deeply human hero, contrasting against the demonic Dracula. Cushing doesn't look like an action hero and he, accordingly, gets tossed around several times. However, Cushing's Van Helsing never gives up. He fights to the finish. Yet Cushing makes him more then a man of action, as the actor's natural tendency for humanity shines through. Van Helsing's resourcefulness and refusal to run away from a fight makes him an early example of the badass vampire hunter.

Terence Fisher's direction is as speedy as the editing. Fischer doesn't waste time, framing each scene as orderly as possible. Meanwhile, the movie is edited so that each shock and scare registers with as much strength as possible. "Horror of Dracula" would launch a long-running series while making Lee and Cushing icons. There's no doubt why as the film remains exciting and scary.

Eight years. That's how long it took to get a direct sequel to "Horror of Dracula" made. I can't really say for certain why the wait was so extended. I'm willing to bet Hammer was eager to make another Dracula. I suspect that Christopher Lee, who has expressed contempt for the part over the years, was the real reason why. I don't know how they did it, whether it be with money or something else, but the studio eventually talked Lee into reprising his most famous role. "Dracula: Prince of Darkness," the eventual film, helpfully begins with stock footage of the 57 film. Audiences probably, genuinely needed the reminder.

Picking up ten years after the last entry, the film follows the Kents: Diane, her husband Charles, her sister Helen, and Helen's husband Alan. On their vacation through Europe, they pass through Dracula country. Despite everyone – including vampire expert Father Sandor – warning them not to, the quartet continues forward. They wind up abandoned at Dracula's old castle, where the Count's one remaining servant murders Alan, resurrecting the titular Prince of Darkness. With Helen quickly turned into Drac's latest bride, Charles has to team up with Father Sandor to prevent Diane from joining the same rank.

The script intentionally limits Christopher Lee's screen time as much as possible, in order to keep his fee low. This is all too noticeable at times. Dracula doesn't come back to life until the forty minute mark. Nearly the entire first hour is set within Dracula's castle. Clichés abound. The heroes ignore the obvious warnings around them. When mentioning Dracula's name at the dinner table, an ominous wind blows in, causing the candles to flicker. Helen is haunted by bad vibes, constantly telling the others she doesn't like being in the castle. Her pleas go unanswered, naturally. After Dracula finally shows back up, and turns Helen into a vampire, the survivors flee the castle and wind up in the company of Father Sandor and his monks. Then the final act of the movie is mostly contained within the ministry. It's not until the final minutes, when Charles and Sandor ride after Dracula's carriage on horseback, that "Prince of Darkness" approaches the action-packed swiftness of its predecessor.

Which isn't to say the film isn't good. This one arguably packs in as many scares as "Horror of Dracula" did. Terence Fisher was a director who knew how to get the most out of his sets. Repeatedly, the camera pans around the empty sets, which is surprisingly creepy. Dracula continues to be a singularly intimidating presence. When he corners Helen, it's nearly as squirmy and rape-y as his encounter with Mina in the last film. Later on, Dracula pulls his shirt open, cutting his chest, tempting Diane to drink it. Unlike her sister, Diane seems uncontrollably drawn to the vampire's sexual charisma. Yet the one scene in "Prince of Darkness" is better then all the others. While Diane and Charles are attacked by the vampiric Helen, Dracula leaps to the top of the steps, the walls behind him glowing bright red. He easily pushes the heroes aside, ready to claim the woman. How Charles escapes, by crossing swords into the shape of a cross, is disappointing but for a few minutes, "Dracula: Prince of Darkness" is as intense and scary as anything Hammer ever did.

By 1966, the Hammer formula was more firmly established. Barbara Shelley spends the first half of the film fully clothed, covered by constricting dresses. As soon as she's turned into a vampire, she slips into the Hammer uniform of a slinky, cleavage-barring nightgown. The movie might also be the goriest Hammer film up to this point. When Alan gets his throat slashed over Dracula's grave, torrents of bright red, pasta-sauce-thick blood pours out. Later on, Helen is held down and staked, the film drawing a lot of attention to her suffering. The films would get bloodier and sexier from here on.

Famously, Christopher Lee has no dialogue in the film, his vocalization limited to hissing and growling. It totally works in the film's favor, as it makes Dracula into even more of an animal force. Unfortunately, Peter Cushing passed on this one, leaving the Van Helsing part to be played by Andrew Keir's Father Sandor. Sandor is an interesting character, knowledgeable about vampires while similarly trying to dismiss old superstitions. (He also has a hunting hobby and warms his behind on an open fire.) Keir is no Cushing though and he doesn't have the same chemistry with Lee. The two barely interact, truthfully. The set of victims and heroes aren't very involving though Shelley at least looks fantastic in that low-cut nightgown.

After briefly featuring some action at the end, Dracula has a bit of an unglamorous fate here, falling through the ice into rushing water. The movie then abruptly ends after that, cutting to credits immediately afterwards. It's not as exciting or well-paced as the first Hammer "Dracula" joint but "Prince of Darkness" is still a good time for Drac fans.

After the success of "Dracula: Prince of Darkness," Drac was back. Hammer's long-running series had begun in earnest. Whether the quality of the last two entries was kept up throughout the sequels is a manner of opinion. Yet maybe it's clear that the strongest quality control wasn't in place here. "Dracula Has Risen from the Grave" begins with two continuity errors. An additional victim of Dracula's is discovered in a bell tower, an effective scene that couldn't possibly happen during the last film. The story is set 12 months after the 1895-set previous film. Yet dates within the film read 1905. Just goes to show that Hammer's Dracula series was full of as many continuity eras as Universal's Dracula series.

Once again, Dracula is dead and, once again, a holy man appears to tell the villagers to let go of their superstitions. In order to prove to the locals how dead Dracula is, Monsignor Mueller, along with his unnamed Priest sidekick, head over to Dracula's castle with the intention of blessing it. While Mueller is exorcising the Count's abode, the other priest stumbles down a cliff and bumps his head, allowing blood to drip through the ice into the sleeping vampire's mouth. Finding himself unable to enter his newly blessed castle, Dracula seeks revenge on the Monsignor. Because this is a Hammer film, he does so by seducing the man's attractive, nightgown wearing niece.

Terence Fisher was originally supposed to direct "Dracula Has Risen from the Grave" but had to drop out suddenly at the last minute. This left long-time cinematographer Freddie Francis to step behind the camera. Francis had made numerously films before, including a few of Hammer's, look very handsome. His contribution makes "Dracula Has Risen from the Grave" one of the best looking of the series. Francis employs some psychedelic colors throughout the film. Before arising, Dracula's presence is suggested by yellow lighting at the edge of the frame. When biting one of his victim's, the screen around them glows bright red. As the sun sets on the film's final night, an amazing purple color dominates. The Bava-influenced color is distinctive but Francis still packs in some old Gothic atmosphere. A sequence in the middle of the film takes place on rooftops of the city, a novel approach. The fog-soaked black-and-white buildings might be some of the most memorable moments from the film.

As opposed to last time, Christopher Lee actually has dialogue. Though it's still kept to a minimum, he hisses and growls his way through several lines. Though Lee was reportedly disinterested in being in the film, just by standing there, he's still a threatening form. Rupert Davies steps into the role of the knowledgeable vampire hunter. He's more interesting then last time's Father Sandor. He has the same fallible quality that Cushing's Van Helsing had. Dracula roundly kills his butt during their one encounter. Ewan Hooper's unnamed priest fills the Renfield role. What's interesting is that he still feels guilt while under Dracula's control. Veronica Carlson is the film's resident eye-candy, looks incredible, and has decent chemistry with Barry Andrews as her boyfriend. Perhaps more interesting, though, is Barbara Ewing as Zena, the local bad girl that Dracula first turns into a vampire. Amusingly, she's jealous of Dracula pursuing another victim, wondering why she isn't enough.

"Prince of Darkness" kept its action small-sake and mostly inside Dracula's castle. "Risen from the Grave" returns the thrilling action element that "Horror of Dracula" had to the series. My favorite minor bit is when Drac leaps through a glass window, while there are plenty of carriage chases. The film is noticeably creative with its gore as well. At one point, Dracula is impaled with a fence post. Because a prayer wasn't said over his body – a new rule – he rises back up, pulling the stake from his heart. The Count has an especially spectacular demise this time, falling backwards onto a golden cross, impaled through the heart, and writhing in agony before he finally dies. "Grave" doesn't skimp on the scares either. Dracula cornering his female prey continues to be frightening and intense. Lee pushing Veronica Carlson unto the bed is blatantly a sexual violation. The film nails this home by having the virginal Carlson push her baby doll out of bed. As lovely as Carlson is, I think Ewing is sexier as the scantily clad bar maid.

Lee spends much of the film chilling in his coffin in the bar basement, waiting for his victims to come to him. When the Count is off-screen, the film instead focuses on Monsignor Mueller and the relationship with his niece and her boyfriend. Young Paul is an atheist. When he reveals this to the Monsignor, he's scandalized and bans Maria from seeing the boy. However, after Dracula starts feeding on the girl, and fights the older man off, he reveals Maria needs someone who loves her near by. Amusingly, she even sneaks out of her bed at night to be with him. The romantic subplots in these movies were frequently disposable but I actually rather like this one.

The combination of a neatly constructed screenplay, an interesting cast, a speedy pacing, colorful direction, and some decent scares, makes "Dracula Has Risen from the Grave" one of the best of the Dracula sequels. It's also got one of the best titles and probably my favorite movie poster of all time. "Obviously," as the tagline goes.

"Sleepaway Camp III" was shot back to back with "Sleepaway Camp II" and released straight to video a year later. As a money saving measure, both movies were shot on the same sets. The movie barely attempts to disguise this and, instead, thinks of a clever way to write around it. A pair of greedy, would-be entrepreneurs have bought Camp Rolling Hills, two years after Angela's massacre. They have rebuilt the camp into Camp New Horizon, where teens of rich families can mingle with poor, troubled youths. Angela returns to the scene of the crime, assuming a new identity, before the badly behaved tenants force her to kill again. "Sleepaway Camp III" is cheap but at least it's creatively cheap.

"Sleepaway Camp II" was a fairly subtle satire of eighties pop culture, eviscerating the icons of the day while gently poking fun at the rules of the slasher subgenre. Part three, meanwhile, attempts a muddled sociological message. The rich kids at Camp Rolling Hill are rotten to the core, displaying greedy, selfish behavior. The kids from the ghetto, meanwhile, are violent and unintelligent. Even the owners of the camp, winkingly named Herman and Lily, are corrupt. Herman attempts to screw his teenage tenants while Lily is a lay-about that uses the campers as a private workforce. Angela is a force of weird justice, slicing through both social stratas, deeming all unworthy.

Instead of naming the victims after the Brat Pack, Michael Simpson and Fritz Gordon name the fodder after "Brady Bunch" and "West Side Story" characters. The flick intentionally recalls "West Side" with its two survivors. Marcia is from the nice side of the tracks. She strikes up a romance with Tony, a Hispanic kid from such a town that he considers being a gang member no big deal. Their attraction isn't love. Both characters admit they're just horny. Yet their relationship is the film's best implication that there is hope for the future, that different social groups can find a peaceful middle ground.

Which brings us to the increasingly peculiar character of Angela. In part two, an incongruent perkiness separated Angela from the slasher pack while a barely glimpsed inner-sadness made her a deeper character. In part three, Angela is more low-key. She pretends to be a nasty kid in order to make it into the camp. Amusingly, Angela is as bad at pretending to be a street kid as you'd expect, especially when she enthusiastically proclaims her love for the Happy Campers song. In the last flick, Angela at killed those that violated her personal moral code. There's elements of that here too. However, Angela seems to be killing this time mostly because her victims aren't nice. When dropping a rich brat from a flagpole, she calls her a "fornicator." But only after criticizing her for being a cheerleader and racist first. Angela has become bitter. As the film makes obvious, it's from heartbreak. While exploring the room that used to be the main cabin, Angela flashes back to the previous film. In an extended scene, she expresses how important camp is, how it's about being accepted for who she is. No wonder she's sad and angry. The world has continuously disappointed her.

While it tries, "Sleepaway Camp III" ultimately feels like the quickie sequel it is. While the cast is about the same size, the characters are nowhere near as developed. The bad kids are designated a stereotypic behavior. Riff blares his ghetto blaster. Cindy is an entitled rich witch. Snowboy spray-paints. Peter likes firecrackers. Ahab is a tough girl. Jan sleeps around. George is the football star that is secretly into kinky sex, probably the funniest of the lot, especially when he tries to put the moves on Angela. Some of the kids don't even get that much, as Greg and Anita are without any defining features. That the movie was written quickly is evident in its plot construction. After a somewhat sluggish first hour, where Angela separates teens from the group as to kill them, she spends the last half-hour cleaving through the remaining cast. Fritz Gordon's previous script transcended the time limit but it's clear the deadline got to him on this one.

Part II also featured some creative, graphic kills. Unfortunately, the MPAA came down hard on "Teenage Wasteland." What Angela does to her victims can't compare to what the censors did to the death scenes. Before a head smashes on impact or a face is chopped up in a mower, the camera abruptly cuts away. A decapitation is neutered when the punch line, Angela kicking the head, is cut out. A Jeep tears arms off which is awkwardly cropped out of frame. Far too many of the death scenes are Angela hitting her victim with sticks, which is not the most cinematic violence. At least the movie doesn't skimp on the T&A, as the audience is greeted to nine spectacular breasts. (Even if the sole sex scenes features Michael J. Pollard. Did I mention Michael J. Pollard? He's in this.) The third film ends on an ambiguous note, one that ultimately defines the film. As Marcia tries to escape, Angela is fatally wounded. While driven off in an ambulance, she raises long enough to kill the paramedic and cop. When the driver asks what's going on, Angela says she's "taking care of business," a slight reservation in her voice. Killing bad people in a world destined to disappoint her is Angeal's job now. She doesn't take much joy in it. Though I love Pamela Springsteen, her delivery here is tired, especially the hilarious sleepy rap she performs. The whole movie is tired. It's not as funny or satisfying as the previous sequel. However, I'll enjoy any movie that has Pam stirring up trouble. Given more time, this probably would have been a classic on the level of part two. As it is, it's still entertaining.

Throughout the early eighties, the market was saturated with cheap slashers. Many of these quickie films were set at summer camps, playing off the success of the wildly popular-profitable "Friday the 13th" series. Some of these films, like the hyper-gory "The Burning," have become cult favorites. Others, like "Summer Camp Nightmare," aren't well-known. But there's no camp-set eighties slasher flick cult-ier then 1983's "Sleepaway Camp." The movie is most notorious for its gender-bending twist ending. Yet the conclusion is hardly the only odd thing about the film. "Sleepaway Camp" is one of the weirdest films from the first wave of American slashers.

This is mostly thanks to the movie's implacable tone. "Sleepaway Camp" does not exist in our reality. The film is a horribly uneven mixture of nightmare images, camp, a low budget, unexpected subtext, and mean-spirited violence. The film's opening credits are set over shots of an empty camp, the voices of far-off children playing, a genuinely eerie moment. Early on, one of the camp chefs makes lewd comments towards the prepubescent kids. The other chef reacts not by reporting the man but by laughing off the would-be pedophile's behavior. All of the characters act in this exaggerated, trashy manner. Meg the camp councilors, despite being older then the other kids, still picks on shy, socially awkward Angela. "Pick on" isn't even the right word, as her language is highly abusive. Despite brutally dispatching the pedophilic chef, "Sleepaway Camp" also features a romance between teenage Meg and fifty-something camp owner Mel. The movie doesn't treat this behavior as predatory.

The movie appears to be an earnest attempt to create a frightening experience. However, any attempt at horror is undermined by how unintentionally hilarious most of the film is. The acting from all involved is terrible. Felissa Rose's lead performance as Angela is somnambulist, characterized by flat line-reading and unblinking stares. Karen Fields as bully Judy seems unsure of how to handle her outrageous dialogue, delivering it in meaty lumps. The rest of the slasher fodder have a similar problem, giving broad performances without even the basic ability to read lines convincingly.

As bad as the teens are, the adult actors give even worst performances. Desiree Gould is Aunt Martha and gives one of the strangest performance in any '80s horror film. Her dialogue is spoken in a spaced-out, antiqued manner. Gould honestly seems to have wander out of a David Lynch movie. As bizarre as Gould is, Mike Kellin as Mel is much worst. The mush-mouth Kellin is given some of the heaviest dialogue in the film, a feat beyond the actor's ability. Mel's obsession with keeping the camp open, even with bodies piling up, is inexplicable. When he deduces Ricky is behind the deaths, he brutally beats the kid. An adult beating a child should never be hilarious but Kellin's tone-death performance and the movie's melodramatic delivery makes it funny.

The hilarity doesn't stop there. "Sleepaway Camp" also serves as a time capsule for fashion in 1983. Pastels are the color of choice. One of the male camp counselor wears tiny shorts hiked up to his crotch. The fashion isn't the only source of unintentional humor. The sole cop in the movie reappears at the end, his real mustache replaced with fuzzy duct tape. The movie could be commended for having the kids act like kids. They let loose explicit profanity, play mean-spirited pranks, and generally act like entitled d-bags. The nasty way they act is so unexpected that it frequently becomes hilarious. All of this characterizes the high-strung, melodramatic, trashy world of 'Sleepaway Camp."

The whole movie is also characterized by discomfort with, not just teen sexuality, but human sexuality in general. The film has a strong homoerotic undercurrent. At the beginning, we see Angela and Ricky's father with a male friend. Turns out, that friend is their father's lover. In addition to this element, the film is full of half naked teen boys. They wear mid-drift barring shirts, go skinny dipping, and shove their bare butts in other kids' face. The whole film is focused on the kids' budding sexuality in a greasy, unseemly fashion.

Of course, the biggest queer element is the infamous ending. Turns out, Angela is actually a boy who has lived his life as a female. The film lets this twist explain away Angela's murderous desire, a deeply transphobic element that probably wasn't thought about much in 1983. The film doesn't have time for that, as its final image of a naked Angela, penis in full sight, is bizarre. Not because of the nudity but because the character's face freezes in an animalistic growl while an eerie hiss escapes her throat.

Befitting the off-putting tone, the film's murders are unusual. A man is burned with boiling water, his body covered with bursting blisters. One kid drowns while another is stung to death by bees, the camera lingering on their brutalized bodies. A stab to the back and an arrow in the neck are more typical but pulled off convincingly. The most notorious death happens off-screen. Judy is somehow killed with a curling iron, the implication being that she was stabbed in a very uncomfortable place. As opposed to most eighties slashers, the kids here are played by visibly young actors. That such violence is being inflicted on young children is one more thing that makes "Sleepaway Camp" a mean-spirited mess of a film.

That mess isn't for everybody. Initially, it wasn't even for me. I found the film difficult to swallow on first viewing. However, "Sleepaway Camp" has grown on me over subsequent watches. The film is utterly unique among slashers and too generally weird not to be memorable.