All posts by Gregory J. Smalley (366weirdmovies)

Gregory J. Smalley founded 366 Weird Movies in 2008 and has served as editor-in-chief since that time. He is a member of the Online Film Critics Society, and his film writing has appeared online in Pop Matters and The Spool.

THE 366 WEIRD MOVIES GUIDE, VOL. 1 IS LIVE!

In case you missed it (beware: more promotion coming!)

“Covering everything from art-house surrealism to next-generation cult movies to B-movie atrocities and unclassifiable oddities, 366 Weird Movies has been publishing online since 2009. Here are our canonical choices of the 366 weirdest movies worthy of your eyeballs – and the day you should watch them on – in all-new capsule reviews, delivered with our usual combination of sly humor and series insight.” Available now from our publisher, Bear Manor Media (in hardback or paperback) or from Amazon, more options (including buying from us directly) to come. Vol. 1 covers movies selected for viewing on January 1st to June 30th; we’ll let you know when Volume 2 is ready.

CAPSULE: SPIDER BABY (2024)

AKA Spider Baby, or the Maddest Story Ever Told

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Beware

DIRECTED BY: Dustin Ferguson

FEATURING: Noel Jason Scott, Skylar Fast, Emma Keifer, Jennifer Moriarity, Peter Stickles, Cody J. Briscoe

PLOT: A family of three young adults suffer from “Merrye syndrome,” which causes them to slowly regress to a childlike (but homicidal) state; their kindly caretaker tries to protect them from scheming relatives seeking to seize their ancestral homestead.

Still from spider baby (2024)

COMMENTS: Despite what laypeople might assume, it is rarely a fun exercise to review a bad movie. There are, of course, exceptions. Movies that are bad, but unintentionally entertaining, can be eviscerated and celebrated in the same breath. It can be cathartic to unload on Hollywood product cynically dumped into theaters just to make a few bucks off unwitting dupes by people who should care more about their craft —these provide excellent excuses to flex your mordant prose muscles. And there are a small number of movies for which calling out their antisocial elements—be they misogynist, sadistic, exploitative, ignorant, or bigoted—feels like a public service. But most bad movies, unfortunately, were made with love by decent people doing the best with what they had to work with; these flicks inspire disappointment, not indignation. And disappointment rarely results in prose that’s a delight for either reader or writer.

But the issuance of a remake of a weird movie classic  like Spider Baby is newsworthy. And although the project feels wholly unnecessary, people are likely to be at least a little curious. Seeing the name of original director on the marquee as executive producer is encouraging; surely he would not leave his baby in the hands of ne’er-do-well filmmakers? Unfortunately, the new Baby goes wrong in just about every way imaginable; so much so that any analysis reads less like a meaningful critique and more like a particularly grisly cinematic autopsy report.

Ferguson has added entirely new scenes, and yet the new version somehow runs almost ten minutes shorter than the original. The film is padded with little home-movie style clips (a tribute to House of 1,000 Corpses, a movie this actually resembles more than its source) and many more senseless murders—as if a greater quantity of perfunctory killings could make up for the carefully orchestrated, individualizes fates that befell the original’s scant three victims. The four top credited actors are Beverly Washburn (Elizabeth in the original), Ron (great-grandson of Lon) Chaney, Robert Mukes, and . Each of them spent at most an afternoon on the project, filming meaningless death, flashback, or wraparound scenes. Stevens doesn’t even speak. The actual principals are no match for the originals. Nor is the camerawork, the setting (sunny Cali mansion instead of old dark country house), the continuity, the humor, or, really, anything. A few of the performances aren’t completely embarrassing (Moriarity is best), the credit sequence is well done, and the score is good (if used far to liberally, in an attempt to manufacture a spooky atmosphere not happening onscreen). But it’s like a community theater enactment a beloved classic, with no real individual take to offer. Great scenes are omitted, inconsequential ones are substituted. All that you really need to do is to compare the two renditions of the famous “playing spider with Uncle Peter” scenes. The original is a masterpiece of suspense worthy of , playful and subtle, conveying themes of bondage, incest, and sadism through the context of a villainess with the unknowable, morally ambiguous mind of a child. Even though some of the dialogue is lifted verbatim for the remake, this re-enactment is more like watching candid security footage from the VIP room of a B&D-themed strip club. Ferguson establishes no relationship (much less chemistry) between the characters, starts the scene in medias res, and ends it in sleaziest res.

Of course, there will be some generous and charitable folks who think that this younger sibling is not such a bad egg, and good for them, I guess. But my recommendation is to avoid; the fact that, despite the cult tie-in, this movie has almost no distribution, marketing, or reviews from sources besides us bolsters that warning. It would be all terribly depressing, but the bright side is that this microbudget remake helps us to appreciate the miraculous accomplishment of Hill’s original so much more. Hill may have been working in schlock, but he was a master schlock craftsman, able to wring memorable performances out of mediocre talent and genuine suspense out of thin, musty air.

On Pod 366, we incorrectly speculated that the advertised “BONUS black and white feature” was a copy of the original film. It is, in fact, merely a monochrome rendering of the remake. There are a lot of interviews and behind-the-scenes footage on the disc, however.

CAPSULE: WAITING FOR DALI (2023)

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Waiting for Dali is currently available for rental or purchase on-demand.

DIRECTED BY: David Pujol

FEATURING: , José Garcia, Clara Ponsot

PLOT: A restaurateur in Salvador Dalí ‘s hometown of Cadaqués in the 70s dreams of luring the artist to visit his Dalí -themed “El Surreal” bistro, and catches a break when a master chef on the lam shows up in need of work (and a cover story).

Waiting for Dali (2023)

COMMENTS: Movie about Dalí (at least the ones we’ve covered) all seem to be rooted in realism: Little Ashes focused on Federico García Lorca’s crush on the young Dalí, while ‘s Daliland largely contended itself with depicting the extravagance of the painter’s lavish celebrity lifestyle. Perhaps Dalí himself would appreciate the irony; no director dares attempt to even approximate his hallucinatory genius. (We suspect surrealist will end this trend soon when he releases his “real fake biopic” starring multiple actors as Dalí later this year.) When Jules decorates his El Surreal bistro with plastic clocks melting in the trees, a lobster glued to the telephone, and mannequins seated at the tables, it seems like a cheesy Vegas-style tribute to the surrealist icon rather than anything legitimately surreal.

The surrealist cuisine crafted by master chef Fernando, however, does show originality: an airy mountain of carrot mouse modeled off a local landmark, “hot-and-cold pea soup,” various oddly shaped mini-loafs painstakingly decorated with tiny springs of herbs, and an array savory lollipops served on a bed of mud. The artistic journey in the film belongs to Fernando, who learns to incorporate controlled chaos into his craft, which had previously been ruled by strict order and proper French culinary procedures. Fernando’s gastronomical reinventions suggest the way Dalí mastered the basic techniques of painting before warping them to his own imaginary landscapes. Restaurateur Jules (who looks uncannily like a young Spanish Robert Downey Jr.), on the other hand, essentially serves as dapper comic relief: he is a Dalí fanboy who invents with multiple unsuccessful schemes to lure the object of his obsession to his dining establishment. In the end, it is only Fernando’s audacious menu that offers any chance of attracting the master.

Dalí himself is only an aspirational figure in the tale; if you are waiting for him to appear, you may be disappointed. You will also not learn a lot about the artist; the film, made for a Spanish audience, assumes you have a baseline of knowledge about the time, place, and players. A single introductory sentence explains that the story takes place at the end of the Franco dictatorship, and from there you’re on your own. The film expects you to know who Gala is when she appears, and to recognize the various Dalían tributes Jules has set up in El Surreal. Franco’s police play a role in motivating the plot, but they are hardly a serious threat; they are almost comic foils, and not even important enough to bother tying up the loose threads they leave at the end. The film is instead surprisingly light and frothy, like carrot mousse, and sunny like the Catalonian shore, a celebration of creativity that shines even in the darkest days.

Director David Pujol’s had directed two previous documentaries about Dalí, and also a television miniseries documentary about avant-garde chef Ferran Adrià, so he obviously knows his subjects well.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…the cast’s willingness to do all the heavy lifting elevates the otherwise puzzling yet predictable film that wants to use a turbulent era for the setting of a feel-good, romantic film but ends up feeling random, inconsistent, and scattered.”–Sarah J. Vincent, Boston Movie News (contemporaneous)