No one is more responsible for the fact that I love movies at all than my mom. I grew up raised by a woman who was raised by people who valued books and education. If I had gone into teaching after high school, I would have been the fourth generation in my mom’s family to do so. She taught me to read at three years old, and I’ve seemingly never looked back. When I wanted to start publishing writing at 13, she was there to help me edit. This in turn got her back into writing, and she would go on to edit several books and publish dozens of stories of her own. Literature is one part of the foundation of who I am, and the relationship I had with my first and most profound influence. Another piece of that foundation is cinema, with my mom renting just about every type of movie you could think of.

And I was allowed to watch most of them. There would be issues with movies in which I could reenact whatever I had seen, so stuff like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was off-limits until I was a little older, but by and large my mom would let me watch most of the movies she was watching, as well. This included most adult comedies, some dramas, and other released in the 80s and 90s. Movies by Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen, Blake Edwards, Steven Spielberg, Billy Wilder, Orson Welles, John Huston, and many more were among the films I saw before I was even a teenager. It would be deranged to imagine that didn’t make a significant impact on me.

I’ve gotten a lot from movies, and while I would probably have watched them without her influence, it’s overwhelming when I try to comprehend just how important it’s been to my development and life that my mom was there to start me on so many things that still drive me today.

These is something I’ve been thinking about every day since she died.

At time of writing, it is early autumn 2023. Her birthday hovers around my thoughts. She died just recently, quite unexpectedly, and I’m still very much in the stage of constant, gnawing grief. A sense of loss that not even 5, 000 or so watched films could have prepared me for. I find myself wishing it was true that when someone you love is gone, hallucinations and sorrow will swoop in and work together to make them appear to you once more. A mirage would be better than the vast nothingness she has left behind. She was brilliant, creative, odd, infuriating, and relentlessly generous. If you like me at all, you have her to thank.

Watching movies with my mom will be something I miss for the rest of my life. If you have parents, and they don’t suck ass at being even halfway decent, watch a movie with them. Share something that’s meaningful or just simply entertaining. If you have kids of your own, the same suggestion applies. Especially if they’re young. I’m not saying you have to throw on Touch of Evil for your 5-year-old (or fuck it, man, do exactly that), but maybe run something that meant the world to you when you were young.

I promise it will make an impression. I assure you that you won’t regret it.

I owe my mom so, so much. Everything covered above is just a sampling of that, and I thank you for sticking around for a longer column intro than usual.

Now, let’s get to some real cinema. The kind of thing that just makes you grateful to be alive, rejuvenating the soul, and inspiring the heart to ever greater--

Omen IV: The Awakening (1991): D-

Some people say Omen IV: The Awakening, a TV movie that aired on the still-young FOX Network in 1991, is at least more entertaining than the previous two entries. That may be so, but that’s a lot like saying The Human Centipede 3 (Final Sequence) is the most ambitious of its trilogy. Even if you’re right, you’re still left with a franchise that’s not very much fun to watch.

At least not for me, with Omen IV burying some interesting ideas and performances in a plodding, low budget TV movie that was directed by the same hack who turned out Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers. Even when this movie gets interesting, we’re inevitably punished by the movie’s need to do shit that will remind us of the first film. It harkens back to the first Omen, which I already find pretty boring to begin with, as well as it realizes the full potential of its better ideas. Not very.

The best idea of which concerns the main story itself. A congressman and his wife (Michael Woods and Faye Grant, with Grant at least trying to find something human in this big bag of nonsensical plot points and ludicrous decision-making) adopt a little girl (Asia Vieira, who certainly hits those creepy notes). There’s something not quite right about this girl from the start, and the movie doesn’t really surprise us much in how that unfolds. By the time we get to the movie’s twist, like the previous films, it’s hard to care. Every interesting moment or performance is crushed under the weight of poor direction and an uneven script. It’s just not my brand of terrible, I guess.

Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022): D+

Am I just not cool anymore? Have I turned into one of those dreaded old people at the wretched age of 38? I was never cool to begin with, and I’m only as old as I feel (so, about 52), but I don’t think these things prevented me from enjoying Bodies Bodies Bodies. The fact that a lot of people who do like it more than me is a coincidence. Probably. Maybe.

Still, I’d like to think I’d hate this unlikable blend of horror and comedy at any age. The story of a group of 20-somethings whose efforts to entertain themselves during a hurricane in an isolated mansion is fine, but not when the characters are boring, with the broader joke about people showing their true selves during a crisis running out of steam about 30 agonizing minutes in. The dialog isn’t particularly annoying, which a lot of critics of Bodies Bodies Bodies have centered on. The characters simply are, despite good performances by Amandia Stenberg and Maria Bakalova in particular, and they are then put through an insufferable series of unfortunate, allegedly hilarious misfortunes. It’s supposed to be funny, but mostly it’s just unpleasant. Watching them collapse and try to destroy each other just isn’t very much fun. These characters would be too repulsive to care about in any decade.

Bodies Bodies Bodies has style and is well-directed by Halina Reijn, but her talent doesn’t save this movie from a story that’s frustrating more than amusing, and characters who are just plain dreadful. Even as that’s kind of the point, it’s a point that gets on my nerves long before the movie thankfully ends.

Dagon (2001): C+

The list of H.P. Lovecraft adaptations that are worth a damn is pretty small, compared to other iconic horror authors. I learned recently through a Patreon I keep up with (Movie Timelines presents funny, well-researched, and clever articles on the consistency of timelines in horror movie franchises) that there are nevertheless more good movies based on H.P. Lovecraft stories than I had previously believed. Dagon is a bit messy at times, with its plot about a man (Ezra Godden) discovering his place in the horrible universe after being forced ashore from his yacht to a creepy, isolated village after an unexpected storm. It’s a little hard to care about these characters at times, with some performances falling flat when the movie’s surreal hellscape wraps its oily, otherworldly tentacles around its characters, needing them the most.

Still, Stuart Gordon ultimately proves with Dagon that he could adapt a straighter interpretation of Lovecraft’s material. His more famous ­Re-Animator is at best a loose adaptation of its source material. Dagon goes hard on the ambition to showcase atmosphere and trust imagination with great set designs, some distinctive visuals, and a sense of utter doom at every creaky, mold-riddled corner of a village that is impressively realized as its own unique character.

There’s a lot I like about Dagon, and it’s not the end of the world that the movie sometimes completely fails to transition from one moment to the next, or that the actors struggle with the material at times.

Penguin Highway (2018): B-

Despite being quite a ways from their traditional habitat, a young boy named Aoyama and a woman known only as Lady find themselves surrounded by penguins. This is the basic quirky backdrop for Penguin Highway, which impressively delivers both of those things at the same time. Soon Aoyama and Lady set about solving this mystery. And while director Hiroyasu Ishida doesn’t lose sight of this mystery in his stunning adaptation of Tomihiko Morimi’s novel, he also directs a film that’s really more about the journey than the destination.

Creativity and imagination are powerful elements, as unpredictable and dangerous as the weather at times, in the world of Penguin Highway. That creates an experience for the viewer that may feel like it’s taking a lot of detours from the main mystery and odd relationship between Aoyama, Lady, and the other people who float in and out of their lives. I guess it is, but I rarely found myself bothered by that. It’s a pleasure to learn about these people as things get weirder and weirder around them, and their efforts to better understand what’s going on creates a trust that we’ll get there when we get there. Why not enjoy the sights and sounds?

Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1974): B+

Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter is a Hammer Studios gem that I’ve been meaning to see for years. Considered one of the better movies made during the studio’s tumultuous life and eventual death in the 1970s, Captain Kronos feels very, very far away from the Horror of Dracula and Curse of Frankenstein at times. That’s probably because it’s a strange action-horror hybrid that Hammer rarely attempted. It works brilliantly well as entertainment, with exceptionally crafted action set pieces, characters who embody those set pieces with high energy and great performances (particularly the still-active-as-of-2023 Horst Janson), and just a general sense of swashbuckling fun that is more agreeable with Hammer’s legendary horror elements than any other bastard offspring of desperation Hammer tried when box office receipts withered.

It's a shame we didn’t get a sequel, as this character and universe could have easily gone for another round or two. The costumes, locations, and comic book-style action and adventure give a sweep and weird grandeur to Captain Kronos: Vampire that makes it wholly unique in its time period. Or really any time period. There’s nothing quite like it.

Gabriel Ricard writes, edits, and occasionally acts. His books Love and Quarters and Bondage Night are available through Moran Press, in addition to A Ludicrous Split (Alien Buddha Press) and Clouds of Hungry Dogs (Kleft Jaw Press). He is also a writer, performer, and producer with Belligerent Prom Queen Productions. He lives on a horrible place called Long Island.