Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we enter into that strange period of the annual anime cycle where we’re pushing mid-June, yet still working through the final weeks of the spring’s shows. This mismatch has long been a source of comfort to me, ensuring me that although we might already be a significant way through summer, it hasn’t technically started yet, at least according to the arbitrary strictures of Japan’s broadcasting schedules. But alongside deluding myself regarding the dwindling days of summer, I also made sure to watch a scattering of new features, furnishing our usual horror selections with a recent animated feature and a very mopy Brad Pitt. Let’s break ‘em down! 

First up this week was Moloch, a Dutch horror feature centered on Betriek, who lives at the edge of a sprawling peat bog. As an early child, Betriek hid beneath the floorboards while her grandmother was murdered by strangers; ever since, her family has been broken, her mother emotionally unavailable and her father resigned to the bottle. This “curse” on Betriek’s family seems to reemerge when a stranger attacks them – but soon, Betriek realizes they are being afflicted by something far older and more malevolent than any of them expected.

Moloch is an easy softball in my direction, mining local legends for that folk horror goodness I love so much. It’s an altogether handsomely shot film, drawing great visuals out of its central bog, and steadily sculpting a haunting mythological conspiracy. Where it stumbles is unfortunately its actual horror components; Moloch spends far too much time dithering about mysteries between its setpieces, invests heavily in a romance that goes nowhere, and lacks meaningful payoffs until its dramatic finale. You could chop fifteen minutes off this film without losing anything, but the remainder makes for a reasonable horror journey, complete with a delightfully macabre local festival. It’s hard to feel disappointed with a film that takes this many of the right lessons from The Wicker Man.

We then checked out The Bad Guys, a recent CG-animated feature about a team of criminals who are all traditionally feared animals – there’s a big bad wolf, snake, shark, etcetera. The group assumes they are destined to be hated no matter what they do, and thus lean into the joy of villainy, until they are given a unique chance to prove they can actually do good. Then a series of heists ensue, unexpected flips of allegiances, yada yada yada, you know how this goes.

The Bad Guys is wholly unremarkable as a narrative, and given its main team are known for heists, a fair portion of this movie is wasted on that genre’s uniquely weightless “ah, but that’s what I meant for you to think” reveals. That said, the film’s visual aesthetic is actually quite impressive, feeling akin to The Mitchells Versus The Machines’ uniquely eye-catching trick of CG animation being used to emulate traditional animation effects, like smears, impact frames, and form-contorting expressions. It’s delightful to see the current vanguard of CG animation prioritizing aesthetic personality over graphical fidelity, and even in a so-so story like this one, the joy of unbounded animation still makes it a fun watch. Into the Spiderverse is still the king of these features, but others are catching up, and I’m thrilled to see it!

Next up was Blood Red Sky, a German film wherein a group of hijackers take over a transatlantic flight, only to find themselves hunted in turn by one of the passengers: a goddamn vampire, who reluctantly embraces her curse in order to protect her son. Blood Red Sky’s somewhat preposterous premise provides ample fuel for two hours of excitement, as threats escalate from unbalanced hijackers to vampire outbreaks and beyond. The film’s masterstroke is its specific conception of vampirism, as a progressive disease that can be tempered by medication, but otherwise eventually transforms its host into a fully unreachable beast. That threat, along with the approach of daylight, add enough active fuses to the narrative to ensure there’s never a dull moment. An altogether entertaining action-thriller.

Our next feature was Stage Fright, an ‘87 Italian slasher about a company of actors who are hunted down during an overnight play rehearsal. Stage Fright was a very cozy watch for me, with its artistic pedigree situating it halfway between American slashers and Italian giallo features. As a result, you get both the comforting array of archetypes and takedowns you expect from a slasher, but also the luxurious mise-en-scène and dramatic color design of an Argento-derivative production. Top all that off with a uniquely ominous monster design (the killer stalks his victims in a snow-white owl mask, which steadily gains crimson adornments as the night continues), and you end up with a familiar yet satisfying blend of subgenres, and an easy popcorn viewing for any horror aficionados.

Last up was Interview with the Vampire, a rambling tragedy starring Brad Pit as a young and despairing man who wishes only for death, and Tom Cruise as the vampire Lestat, who forces him to settle for eternal undeath. The film is structured around the conceit of Brad Pit’s Louis confessing his life story to a reporter (Christian Slater), as his sorrowful tale stretches from the streets of New Orleans to the ballrooms of Paris and back.

Based on the Anne Rice novel of the same name, Vampire is as melodramatic and melancholic as you could possibly hope for, and frankly probably a touch beyond that. I’m not sure whether it came down to Pitt’s unsuitability for the part or the simple repetitiveness of his journey, but Louis’ tale of sorrow never really moved me. Outside of the engagingly messy familial drama introduced by Louis and Lestat’s adoption of their “daughter” Claudia, Louis’ journey maintains the exact same emotional tenor from start to finish, making it hard to see him as a full person, and not just a vehicle for ponderous lamentation.

Louis’ sad-sack simplicity leaves a significant emotional hole in the center of this feature, but the fringes are at least generously embellished with rich costuming and ambitious set design. And as the classic forever-too-young vampire Claudia, a young Kirsten Dunst puts in a better performance than basically any of her costars. If you enjoy films like The Crow or Bram Stoker’s Dracula, you’ll likely find something to enjoy here – personally, my takeaway is that this film needed perhaps twenty fewer minutes, at least three different actor choices, and a significant rewrite of Louis’ character. So, not great.