Reviews
‘Wait Until Dark’ Review: A Timeless Psychological Horror Thriller
In my recent review of Venom, I scolded myself for an overall lack of care in watching films outside of my comfort zone. When it came to thinking of cathartic horror films for January, Venom’s own Robert Carrington quickly came to mind. Carrington penned Venom and co-wrote Wait Until Dark, and I couldn’t help but think this was the best way to get me back into watching films I don’t typically watch. When I first watched Wait Until Dark in a semi-secluded beach house on Cape Cod years ago, I was stunned. I had never seen an Audrey Hepburn movie before, and knowing that this film was wholly against type for her, I have never watched one since. Something about Wait Until Dark just never ceases to get under my skin, rewatch upon rewatch.
Wait Until Dark: A Deadly Cat-and-Mouse Game
Lisa (Samantha Jones) brings a drug-filled doll from Canada to New York. Once at the airport, she hands the doll off to an unknowing Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), who takes it home, where he lives with his wife Susy (Audrey Hepburn), who has recently gone blind. Mike (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston) make a trip to Sam’s (gorgeous) apartment to meet up with Lisa, but they find Roat (Alan Arkin) and Lisa’s dead body. Roat gives the men an offer they can’t refuse, and they decide to help him find the doll. What transpires is a cat-and-mouse game between three criminals and a blind woman, who is smarter and craftier than any of them would have imagined.
There are only a handful of films that I’ve seen adapted from stage plays that work better as films. Frank Capra’s adaptation of Arsenic and Old Lace is tied with this film for best stage-to-screen adaptation (in my view). It’s been a long time since I’ve read Frederick Knott’s stellar stage play, but it still doesn’t hold a candle (or match!) to Terence Young’s truly terrifying epic. With a few moments of exception, the majority of Wait Until Dark is a self-contained chamberpiece that refuses to give one second of relief. Writers Jane-Howard and Robert Carrington crafted Knott’s stage play into one of the most heart-pounding experiments of horror and suspense.
Audrey Hepburn’s Incredible Performance
As stated in the introduction, I had not watched an Audrey Hepburn movie before Wait Until Dark. That’s not to say I don’t know who she is. Audrey Hepburn is one of the few icons whose name carries their legacy. Seeing Hepburn’s immensely captivating performance makes it clear what a powerhouse of an actor she was. While Hepburn does a significant amount of carrying throughout Wait Until Dark, it’s the ensemble cast that makes this film a true piece of art. Richard Crenna’s unbridled charisma creates this unusual mixture of friendship and fear…he could sell water to a fish. Each interaction between Crenna and Hepburn makes you start to forget that he is indeed a bad guy with ulterior motives. Each performance in Wait Until Dark is a masterclass in screen performance.
Please don’t crucify me when I say this, but Alan Arkin truly steals the show with his performance. Wait Until Dark is unquestionably an Audrey Hepburn vehicle. But Alan Arkin chews the scenery like a gristly steak. Whether he’s Roat, Roat Jr., or Roat Sr., Arkin has this film in a chokehold. He’s funny, charismatic, rude, mean, and undoubtedly one of horror’s greatest villains. His greasy black hair and slick black glasses give him a hitman demeanor that’s only amped up with each costume change. But it’s his arrogance that gets him in the end. The simplest oversight puts him in a blind woman’s crosshairs and signs their death warrant.
Wait Until Dark: A Title That Becomes a Warning
It wasn’t until this watch, probably my tenth viewing, that I finally understood the title. Wait Until Dark isn’t just a catchy title that easily rolls off the tongue…it’s a warning. The film may have been unsettling for the first hour and twenty minutes, now just wait until the lights go off in the final act. If you haven’t seen Wait Until Dark, you’re missing out on one of horror’s greatest treasures.
Films today have become too same-y. There’s this constant need to always up the ante, but there’s little want to tell interesting stories. One of my least favorite things about horror is how it’s becoming too mean. Bring Her Back is ruthlessly mean for no purpose. Terrifier is mean for no purpose (Damien Leone’s words). Mean horror does have a place within the genre, but when that seems to be taking the genre over, then what’s the point? Post-9/11, mean horror had a purpose; it was a mirroring of the anger many people felt. Now, it feels like so many horror films just want to one-up the latest release for no reason.
Why Wait Until Dark Still Matters
One of the beautiful things about Wait Until Dark is how tastefully mean it is. What’s more mean than a group of criminals toying with a blind woman for hours over a slightly felonious amount of drugs? It is mean when Alan Arkin goes through the trouble of putting on two different disguises to fool a blind woman who doesn’t touch his face once. But this is all intended to tell a story, and not meant to solely make the audience uncomfortable…it’s for the purpose of GREAT storytelling. Filmmakers who were inspired by slashers of the ‘80s are a dime a dozen these days; where are the filmmakers inspired by Wait Until Dark?
Those are the films I want to see.
I truly believe that no piece of media depicts the abject horror of cosmicism more than Peter Weir’s 1975 film Picnic at Hanging Rock. Cosmicism is a very specific kind of belief in how the universe functions, and one that sits at the center of the cosmic horror genre. H.P. Lovecraft is generally considered the author who codified its ideals throughout his body of work, though I’m always glad to say it seems the concept outgrew his confines of small-mindedness like many of the narratives that pay tribute to him.
What Is Cosmicism (And Why Does It Matter Here)?
A space-age not-quite-nihilist philosophy, it asserts that while humans have a place in the universe, they have a place the same way dust mites or harmless bacteria do. They are an infinitesimally small force, with no capacity to affect change on entities far, far, far larger than them. Not only are you not the center of the universe, but any attempts to try and center yourself are futile.
You aren’t simply on a rock floating through space, you’re falling in all directions through a sea of nothingness, being pushed around by the moving wake of some supermassive being that regards you as little more than an odd speck. And any attempts to understand that force that pushes you around, let alone affect it, isn’t just futile, it’s dangerous.
Picnic at Hanging Rock: Beyond Logic and Physics
If you haven’t seen the film, you might still be wondering what Picnic at Hanging Rock has to do with all this. It’s not exactly similar to the Cthulu mythos. After all, there are no weird fish people. There is no evil serial killer wizard living in the walls of your house. There are definitely no elder things or shoggoths lurking outside the camera’s lens. But what is there is somehow much more unnerving.
The film instead centers on the inexplicable disappearance of three schoolgirls, Miranda, Marion, and Irma, and their professor, Miss McCraw. Though at first glance it seems simple, their visit to Hanging Rock becomes a mystery that defies all logic. The trio of young girls hike the treacherous mountain, walking up into nothingness, and Miss McCraw follows them into oblivion.
What began as a nice outing on St. Valentine’s Day turns into a strange puzzle that tests all the people linked to the girls, emotionally and psychologically. An Australian Gothic horror that transcends the threats of the human body, of its bondage to logic and physics and biology, Picnic at Hanging Rock becomes a tale of the metaphysical, of forces more vast and much more concerning.
When the Setting Itself Is the Monster
And what is that force exactly? It’s never outright answered, of course, but it does have a face. And that very literal rock face is Hanging Rock itself. It’s a well-known geological formation in Australia, an imposing monument of sedimentary vastness that represents the ancient history of the continent. And Hanging Rock is one of my favorite rarities in a horror movie: a case of when the setting itself is the monster.
The way the nature around Hanging Rock erupts into this almost alien symphony of noise when Miranda unlatches the gate, and opens the girls’ paths to annihilation, is an unforgettable moment. The film is full of them thanks to the dreamlike nature of its writing, and it’s even more hypnotizing soundtrack by Gheorghe Zamfir and Bruce Smeaton.
The early monologue from Mrs. McCraw, portrayed by actress Vivean Grey, is probably the best example of how unknowable and alien the locale is. It’s one of the most subtly intimidating pieces of writing I’ve had the pleasure of hearing. She states so matter-of-factly how massive and odd and downright antediluvian the mount is; a 500-foot-tall, incredibly old structure, given an ominous amount of consciousness. She declares it’s been waiting a million years, just for them, as if they were drawn to the rock to be consumed.
Her brief time on screen is also just one of the many compelling performances on display here, headed most impressively by Anne-Louise Lambert as Miranda, Karen Robson as Irma, and an incredibly young John Jarratt as Albert. Yes, that horror legend John Jarratt, Wolf Creek’s very own Mick Taylor.
Picnic at Hanging Rock Is a Horror Movie Rich in Meaning
On a metatextual level, Picnic at Hanging Rock touches on a number of different themes, with the rigors of coming of age and the onset of womanhood being at the forefront. It’s not hard to read it as a story about young girls being forced to fall in line with societal expectations, forced to grow up too fast, and suffering gravely for it. Taking place at a boarding school in the countryside, and involving the presumed deaths of a group of girls, the conversation around the tragedy quickly turns sour. The film becomes as much about the elements of high society holding the investigation as it does the investigation itself.
There’s also a wonderful post-colonialist reading to be had of the film given the original significance of Hanging Rock for Australia’s Aboriginal peoples. The specter of predatory colonialism and the way it changed the landscape throughout the century adds a shade of darkness over an already dark mystery, and the script even touches on it. The reduction of a place of worship for the Aboriginals into a fleeting place of entertainment being the inciting incident adds another layer to the film’s mystery that is so fascinating to dive into. Doubly so when you take into account the film’s utilization of dream symbolism and its intersection with the Aboriginal religious mythology of the Dreaming.
Why Picnic at Hanging Rock Is a Must-Watch Cosmic Horror Film
The film is so highly rewatchable just for this, that you can get through it quite a few times and still enjoy it continuously unfolding into something new. If you could take or leave the low points of cosmic horror that is often beholden to a very dark fantasy mythos, but you still love the idea of human minds being rended into meaty confetti by being exposed to the unthinkable, then you will love Picnic at Hanging Rock. That is, if you like long haul, slow burn, atmospheric mysteries with a cerebral and haunting plot.
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+.
