When I first leaned of the Master's of Horror series, I was beside myself with morbid childlike glee. Imagine, a series of original 1 hour films by some of the best known directors in the genre. I picked up Dario Argento's first entry in the series, Jenifer, at a pawn shop for $3. I soon found Argento's second entry, Pelts, and John Carpenter's Cigarette Burns for equally insane low prices. Then I began renting other episodes with much excitement. My enthusiasm carried me through a good number of the films before it finally dawned on me that honestly, they aren't all that great. Some are better than others, certainly, but some are pretty much dook. The most recent one I watched was Haeckel's Tale, based on a Clive Barker story that I'd read in a horror anthology and thought was decent. There wasn't much of a story, but Clive was in his usual stylistically-rich form. I thought it could make a decent film if the story was beefed up a bit, and the film was made by John McNaughton, director of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (which I haven't seen and don't plan to, but its got a great reputation).
It gets off to a good start with a great creepy atmosphere that can make a horror movie for me. However, as the film goes on, it gets, in a word, dumb. By the end, I was laughing my ass off at this train wreck of a movie. Which is to say that I frickin' loved it. I knew immediately that it would have to be an entry in the FMSMMW blog. Tonight, I started off in the mood for horror, but I was feeling a bit goofy at the same time. Haeckel's Tale should fit the bill nicely. I just hope Chelle finds it as exquisitely stupid as I did.
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