Jonny Numb

Death Rider in the House of Vampires (2021)

I was never much of a Misfits fan (blasphemy!), so I never got into Glenn Danzig’s solo work (double blasphemy!)…or his sojourn into creating dank and demonic comic books. But as a fan of guys like Rob Zombie and Spider One and what they’ve brought to the horror genre, it’s hard not to be intrigued by the efforts of someone venturing into film from another creative discipline.

Death Rider in the House of Vampires (Death Rider hereafter) is Danzig’s sophomore effort as writer-director-cinematographer-composer (damn!), and the title is basically the movie: Death Rider (Devon Sawa) – a mysterious cowpoke in the Sergio Leone mold – ventures to a bordello in the middle of the desert, overseen by the catacomb-dwelling Count Holliday (the late Julian Sands).

Imagine From Dusk Till Dawn as a period piece and a lot less fun, and you’ll get a good idea of the viewing experience. In addition to Sawa and Sands, the cast is rounded out by familiar (or semi-familiar) genre faces like Kim Director (Blair Witch 2: Book of Shadows), Danny Trejo (Machete), Eli Roth, Danzig himself, and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo from…Fred Armisen?!

Danzig’s first effort as a multihyphenate filmmaker, Verotika, was not good…but as a 3-story anthology, it at least held the promise of variety to break up the monotonous, base-level storytelling. Death Rider is worse because it’s a single-location narrative that fails to make rugged gunslingers and fang-toothed whores exciting.

This is why I feel Danzig is a unique case in realm of auteurism: one would think, given his preoccupation with T&A and the macabre, that the exploitative elements of his films would hold the viewer’s attention. But for the most part, the boobs and blood are more boring than anything. Perhaps the level of creative control Danzig exerts over a given project is a bad idea – like latter-day M. Night Shyamalan, the man could use a diplomatic voice of reason to whisper sweet pointers on blocking, lighting, transitions, and general shot composition. In what is becoming a calling card, Danzig lingers on poor CGI (those flames…woof!), mediocre practical FX, and T&A for far too long, draining – not unlike the vampires – any sense of vitality, intrigue, or interest from the proceedings.

The idea of Death Rider, while derivative, could’ve been massaged into something interesting and exciting – but the aesthetic is so hopelessly off that its chances of success are crippled right out the gate. That said, Sawa cuts a rugged figure quite well, even if his backstory is a muddle; ditto the black-haired Sands, who elevates every scene with his immaculate professionalism. The final showdown between these two is an anticlimax, but I have to respect the neon lighting and the verbal sparring that runs the risk of giving this thing an emotional pulse. But in the end, the incoherent world-building and confusing character conflicts doom this to an ashen grave.

1 out of 5 stars

The Devil’s Bath (2024)

Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala’s previous films have asked viewers to suspend disbelief, conform to specific storytelling logic, and overlook glaring inconsistencies to achieve their intended horrific effect. Luckily, I can forgive a lot if a filmmaker exudes confidence in the story they’re telling, and Franz and Fiala have plenty to go around (for instance: I acknowledge that The Lodge is full of holes, but that doesn’t make it any less of a masterpiece).

The Devil’s Bath is their most striking and assured effort yet. It also adheres to narrative and character logic in a way that was not forthcoming in their previous films. One can attribute this to the “based on historical fact” disclaimer that sets events into motion, along with the period setting (a small fishing village circa 1750).

The plot is deceptively straightforward: young Agnes (Anja Plaschg) has just married fisherman Wolf (David Scheid), but after a brightly-lit, celebratory prologue, the seams in their matrimony begin to show – Agnes desperately wants a child; Wolf is averse to touching her (there’s a subtle implication of repressed homosexuality early on); and his mother (Maria Hofstatter) is a pervasive judgmental presence in their lives. In trying to adhere to faith and prayer, Agnes’ wants and needs are consistently blocked – not out of any sort of overt cruelty, but by the nuances of human behavior, fundamentalism, patriarchy, and the type of skepticism that leads to paranoia and violence.

In mirroring 2024’s regressive sociopolitical climate, the horror genre has focused on women of faith – Sydney Sweeney in Immaculate; Nell Tiger Free in The First Omen – put through the wringer in the name of their beliefs; and the desire of men to remove their autonomy. That said, while the aforementioned films were hindered by their close release dates and narrative similarities, The Devil’s Bath exists in a space that falls well outside multiplex notions of “horror.”

Franz and Fiala don’t center the story around jump-scares or excessive shock value – if anything, the horrific moments sneak up and strike like a scorpion’s sting, and linger like its poison. As with Goodnight Mommy and The Lodge, the aesthetic of The Devil’s Bath is almost beautifully foreboding, with a subtle, moody score that often churns beneath the surface of on-screen actions, working a sort of subliminal alchemy on the viewer.

While the overall understatement of its themes and characterizations may test audience patience, the directorial team know how to make every moment count toward a thoroughly impactful whole. There is genuine pain and passion to be found within these frames, and by not being explicit in the messaging, leaves much food for thought on matters of belief. It’s not hyperbole when I say The Devil’s Bath is comparable to strong, faith-questioning fare like The Exorcist and First Reformed. Easily one of the best horror films of 2024.

4.5 out of 5 stars