Reviews
‘Alice, Sweet Alice’: Unmasking the Protoslasher From New Jersey
New Jersey was once the frontier of movie-making. The invention of the first movie viewer and movie camera originated from the East Coast, not Hollywood, which would later become the hub of filmmaking after World War II. In those early days, films like The Great Train Robbery brought name recognition to the state before the industry shifted west. Then, in 1976, a little Alfred Sole feature named Alice, Sweet Alice (originally titled Communion in the U.S.) was shot entirely in N.J. – the first major motion picture since 1933, according to a premiere report in the Daily News. It’s a bloody, perplexing mystery that has tangled audiences for decades. It has since become a cult classic, starring Brooke Shields in her film debut.
New Jersey Setting Enhances Horror in Alice, Sweet Alice
The location of Paterson, New Jersey, supplies the film with a gritty texture. Made on a budget of just $350,000, according to the director himself, as stated in a Blu-ray commentary released by Arrow Films in 2019, the film takes a sacrilegious perspective on religion and faith. The chapel of Paterson General Hospital served as the playground for much of the film’s most graphic, disturbing moments, particularly the first killing, which takes place just outside the sanctuary in the transept. A young girl is beaten, choked, and subsequently set on fire, her body shoved inside a delicately decorated coffer.
The profane nature of the killing, inside a church’s most sacred walls, sets the tone of irreverent murder. The seeming godlessness and lost innocence fuel the masked killer, dressed up in a doll-like party mask and yellow raincoat. In biblical terms, the color yellow often symbolizes God’s glowing presence, and can also signal glory and divinity. In donning such a bright color, the killer draws attention and makes an indelible impression on the victim. It’s a color you won’t soon forget. It also testifies to childlike guiltlessness and play-pretend. It’s often a shield to the elements, perhaps hinting at the killer’s resilience against human nature and their darker instincts.
Sibling Rivalry and Psychological Depth in Alice, Sweet Alice
12-year-old Alice (Paula Sheppard) frequently torments her younger sister Karen (Shields). Alice steals Karen’s playthings and communion veil as acts of rebellion and desperation. Their mother Catherine (Linda Miller) dotes upon Karen, showering her with kisses, hugs, and gifts, but often holds Alice at an arm’s length. A sick disdain for her eldest is practically sacrilegious. Alice is even deterred from taking communion, even by Father Tom (Rudolph Willrich), whose equally favorable attentiveness toward Karen is evident. Such glowing adoration positions Karen as the chosen child, while Alice seems to be primed to be a killer, owing to her disturbing tricks and seething jealousy of her sister. That bitterness pools in her eyes, perfectly hoodwinking the audience into believing she could be the killer.
When Catherine’s disagreeable sister Annie (Jane Lowry) is viciously attacked on the stairs, she crawls out onto the front stoop, the rain streaking the blood in her wake. Her nasty behavior toward Alice gets a fair exchange for her injuries. In the hospital room, religious iconography is displayed throughout, with photos, crosses, and various biblical scenes on the walls and tables. She still insists Alice is the culprit, vengeance burning in her eyes. Such lying all but seals her fate, as the killer remains on the loose. Their devious, bloodthirsty schemes soon lead Alice’s father, Dom (Niles McMaster), to believe that Angela (Kathy Rich), Annie’s reprimanded daughter, is the killer, who lures Dom out to a secluded warehouse.
The Killer’s Motives: Religious Extremism and Guilt
On a brilliant day, the killer unmasks themselves as they bind Dom up in rope and roll his body towards the second-floor window. “God wants you punished,” they froth at the mouth. The wickedness shimmers in their eyes, their teeth grating together. “Thrust into hell, Satan and the other evil spirits who rob this earth, seeking the ridden of souls!” The killer intends to teach perceived sinners of their immorality, but they remain still racked with guilt, even attending confession to make atonement for their iniquities. But their body trembles with pure sin, the most disgusting there could be. “Children pay for the sins of their parents,” they say through the layered partition separating them from the priest.
As we’ve seen throughout time and history, religious extremism pollutes the Bible’s teachings. Devout believers taint scripture about compassion and Jesus’ true way by picking and choosing verses that fit their social and political agendas. Or perhaps adhere to the straight, white, and male version of interpretations that occurred in 1946 by a panel of scholars.
Climactic Communion Scene and Tragic Finale
The killer in Alice, Sweet Alice feels directly ripped from that blasphemous playbook – opting for carnal destruction rather than absolution and redemption. In the final few moments, during communion, the killer kneels upon the altar and readies to accept their portion of bread and wine. But Father Tom stops the proceeding and attempts to convince the killer to come with him quietly, while the police wait at the front door. Tragedy befalls even the most pious. Blood squirts from the killer’s butcher’s knife, and Father Tom’s eyes roll in the back of his head. He’s deader than dead, his lifeless body thumping to the floor.
Alfred Sole’s feature film remains one of the most essential slasher prototypes. Coming two years before John Carpenter’s Halloween, it finetuned much of what we know and appreciate about the subgenre. From the masked killer to the blood-dripping kill sequences, Alice, Sweet Alice would not have reached cult classic status as it has. Without its double-edged godlessness and thematic defiance, its irreverence for faith in both the script and visual storytelling cues, from iconography to the killer’s motives, wouldn’t quite stun the audience into submission.
A landmark New Jersey film, Alice, Sweet Alice, still remains an essential horror film in the broader cinematic history to this day. Its scrappy, lo-fi technique makes it a surefire dose of murder and mayhem. There’s nothing else quite like it.
The act of cutting and stitching can grant new life to a long dead prospect, or it can unleash a monster. Dr. Frankenstein understood the stakes, as does any filmmaker aiming to salvage the unsalvageable. The X-Files creator Chris Carter hopes for a celebratory resurrection – or at least the chance to right some cinematic wrongs – with a recut of his 2008 movie, The X-Files: I Want to Believe. Hulu dropped this new version on August 14 under the appropriately cobbled-together title, The X-Files: I Want to Believe – Vrach Frankenshteyn. Carter insists it’s the edgy cut he’d always envisioned, untainted by notes from studio executives who wanted a sanitized PG-13 summer blockbuster.
The X-Files: I Want to Believe Gets a New Cut
If you’re not a die-hard X-phile, you could be excused for not even remembering the 2008 version of I Want to Believe. The box office bomb was released six years after the original show’s divisive series ending, in which Mulder and Scully depart from their X-Files post and become fugitives hunted by the FBI. Despite the open-ended nature of the TV finale, I Want to Believe was touted before its initial release as a Mulder-Scully reunion that would serve as a one-off case: the film would contain no references to the show’s ongoing mythology, which involved a convoluted alien conspiracy. This approach was welcomed by many fans who admired the scope and style of the first X-Files feature film, 1998’s Fight the Future, but longed to see a cinematic version of the show’s scary standalone tales like “Beyond the Sea” or “Home.”
Why the Original I Want to Believe Failed
Alas, the 2008 film is a plodding mess. Co-written (with Frank Spotnitz) and directed by Carter, the movie sees Mulder (David Duchovny, in all his deadpan glory) and Scully (Gillian Anderson, with all her understated power) co-habitating and keeping a low profile. Despite their fugitive status, the FBI enlists their help to find a missing agent. “All is forgiven,” the characters note, before it’s back to monster-chasing business as usual. Their only lead: Father Joe (Billy Connolly), a convicted pedophile priest who claims to have psychic visions. Scully’s outrage at his involvement leads her to a crisis of faith, while Mulder (and eventually the movie itself) has the stone-faced gall to encourage patience and sympathy for the sex offender. His visions eventually lead the duo to a Russian organ transporter running medical experiments to stitch together a new body for his ailing husband.
I Want to Believe Struggled as a Horror Movie
Even if I Want to Believe were a pristine thriller in the vein of Seven or Insomnia, its dour subject matter would still have sullied its chances against the competition: in the summer of 2008, the box office was dominated by crowd-pleasing juggernauts like Iron Man and The Dark Knight. But the movie is far from pristine. Its leaden pace makes it a chore for fans and newbies to withstand. Horror-wise, it lacks any monster-movie iconography or moments of unbearable dread. We’re a far cry from anything approaching the icky reveal of the sewer-dwelling Flukeman or the shiver-inducing antics of Satanic substitute teacher Miss Paddock.
I Want to Believe is devoid of the storytelling prowess, philosophical grit, stylistic innovation, and mordant humor that the show exuded at its peak. To top it all off, Carter populates the movie with bizarre directorial choices, including a moment in which Mulder gazes upon a framed photo of George W. Bush as the X-Files theme plays in the background, apropos of nothing. With its tonal muddle and meandering script, the movie was enough to make even the most dedicated fans question their belief in the franchise.
Chris Carter Returns to The X-Files
From 2016 to 2018, Carter revived the show for two seasons, which further served to frustrate longtime fans and newcomers with clunky creative choices. Since then, The X-Files has shown few promising signs of life, but it’s been awakened from the grave with recent news that Ryan Coogler, director of Sinners, is developing a reboot series. It appears that Carter has leveraged the newfound interest in the franchise to make this R-rated director’s cut a reality. But despite the writer-director’s claims that it’s gorier than the theatrical version, bloodthirsty horror fans are likely to shrug. The most notable additions of “gore” include a few new shots of dismembered body parts and headless corpses. These images feel more narratively functional than anything, dramatizing the “modern day Frankenstein” plot instead of just alluding to it in reams of expository dialogue.
How Vrach Frankenshteyn Improves the 2008 Movie
Crucially, though, the film feels tighter. It’s 7 minutes shorter than the original cut, and scenes are now edited at a more staccato, thriller-like pace. Much of what’s missing involves tender character moments between Mulder and Scully. Two of their smooches have been nixed, along with half of a scene that involves late-night cuddling between the paranormal-fixated paramours. References to the characters’ backstory have also gotten the chop, including nods to Mulder’s long-lost sister and Scully’s son she gave up for adoption. Mercifully, this new edit streamlines a tedious subplot involving a young boy whose dire illness Scully goes to great lengths to treat.
Mulder and Scully Remain the Film’s Greatest Strength
The slashing of these character-centric moments might sound ill-advised or even sacrilege to fans who believed Mulder and Scully’s potent onscreen chemistry was the only redeemable element from the theatrical cut. Surprisingly, it all works. Duchovny and Anderson do commendable work in conveying the pathos of all the heartache the duo has endured – their shared glances do more heavy-lifting than any of Carter and Spotnitz’s ham-fisted dialogue.
The X-Files Recut Still Has Major Problems
Still, all the recutting in the world can’t save the film from its inherent design flaws. Mulder and Scully are apart for far too long. Scully’s subplot with her young patient is a snooze, since it keeps her away from the X-File at hand. And that X-File is generic at best, homophobic at worst. The so-called “modern Frankenstein” wants to build a new body for his husband, whose connection to Father Joe plays into eyeroll-y stereotypes around trauma victims and queer people. In both 2008 and 2026, it all feels like something that would land on the reject pile in the Law & Order: Special Victims Unit writers’ room.
Is Vrach Frankenshteyn Worth Watching?
While the original I Want to Believe is all but unwatchable, Vrach Frankenshteyn feels more like perfectly serviceable streaming fare. With Coogler’s much-anticipated reboot, many curious genre fans are checking out the show for the first time, working their way through all eleven seasons. If these newcomers wish to include I Want to Believe and the revival seasons in their binge-a-thon for sheer completists’ sake, they’d be well-advised to watch Vrach Frankenshteyn instead of the original: it’s a re-animated cinematic corpse that isn’t quite as beautiful as the Bride of Frankenstein, but it’s not quite dead-on-arrival either. If nothing else, at least it leaves that inexplicable George-W.-Bush-photo moment on the cutting room floor.
The X-Files: I Want to Believe – Vrach Frankenshteyn is streaming on Hulu and Disney+.
David Robert Mitchell’s The End of Oak Street has only committed one crime: premiering this late into the summer movie slate. Hot off the heels of The Odyssey and Spider-Man: Brand New Day, one can only hope Oak Street won’t be lost in the noise of August’s bigger releases. Because those who go to see it will have the pleasure of witnessing one of the few movies this year to actually capture the feeling of those classic Hollywood blockbusters that made Steven Spielberg a household name. And indeed, it’s the blockbuster we’ve been waiting for.
What Is The End of Oak Street About?
The End of Oak Street follows the Platt family: mother Denise (Anne Hathaway), father Greg (Ewan McGregor), and kids Audrey and Brian (Maisy Stella, Christian Convery). Don’t forget their beloved dog, Starbuck (played by newcomer Brisket). Though they blend into their suburban confines as a typical family, turmoil bubbles as Denise and Greg’s strained marriage begins to take a toll on their children.
But soon, an even bigger problem begins to plague Oak Street. Mysterious flashes of light and sound that explode in the night, the largest of which culminates in the entire neighborhood being transported through time and space: from 1982 to the prehistoric era. As dinosaurs and other megafauna wreak havoc, hunting down the unprepared humans brought to their time, the Platt family struggles to figure out how they’ll stay alive and if they’ll even be able to find a way back home.
David Robert Mitchell’s Writing and Directing Make for A Certified Home Run
For those who have been starved for a truly great big-budget dinosaur film given the slow death of the Jurassic Park franchise, you really can’t ask for more than this. Writer-director David Robert Mitchell, the mind behind It Follows and Beneath the Silver Lake, has returned to mix sincere family-drama with a thrilling science fiction survival film. Oak Street blends a lot of heart into its gloomier aspects, at turns funny, dark, charming, and frightening. It runs the emotional gamut and keeps you pinned to your seat as Mitchell constructs a rich interior world for the Platt family that is grounded against the fantastic situation they’re thrust into.
They’re not revolutionary characters, not by a long shot. An emotionally distant father and a mother looking for purpose beyond a suffocating home life, rebellious kids who are impulsive and scared, it’s nothing new. The script writing isn’t bombastically clever. But it is incredibly compelling thanks to the naturalistic dialogue and on-screen chemistry between the four actors. The realistic struggles of the family, driven by phenomenal performances from Hathaway and McGregor first and foremost, balance against the more thrilling elements of the film and keep it from tipping over into mere spectacle.
80’s Suburbia Meets Cretaceous Terror in The End of Oak Street
When it zooms out from the family dilemma to indulge in that spectacle, though, it’s a visual feast and a half. Mitchell crafts an aesthetically luscious setting for the drama to take place in by melding 80’s suburbia with Cretaceous jungles. The blend of modern and primeval elements makes for a deadly and breathtaking environment, constructed with some incredible production design and wonderful digital effects.
Those effects never get old as we see the world beyond the block, and the same can be said for its numerous monstrous reptiles that populate it. Each new one the film pits the family against is more dangerous than the last, and they all look phenomenal. They have genuine weight and impact on screen, and if you even had to ask how, of course it’s Industrial Light & Magic doing their strongest cinema sorcery yet again.
Mitchell and Gioulakis Are On Their Photography A-Game
Mitchell and returning cinematographer Michael Gioulakis weave the camera through the neighborhood in a slick fashion, moving through buildings and yards deftly. They block every chase sequence and dinosaur encounter with immense style, resulting in some especially creative sequences. The locations feel purposeful, and the way the camera swoops and dives around is adventurous and legitimately energized. The dynamic camera work pairs with editing that’s snappy and perfectly paced, leaving just enough room to breathe between its exhilarating moments of prehistoric peril.
The End of Oak Street Is a Must-Watch Blockbuster
By its final scenes, Oak Street cements itself as a new favorite of the year. Big stars bringing bigger and more heartfelt performances, big budget effects that actually manage to wow you over and over, and a big entertainment value that reminds you of how even the simplest stories can generate a feeling of true adventure. The End of Oak Street is endlessly impressive and will revitalize even the most fatigued theatergoers this year.
