I’ve saved the best for last.

I stumbled on this film on an internet search for classic horror movies. It was made in 1932, directed by James Whale (Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, Show Boat, The Man in the Iron Mask), and produced by the great Carl Laemmle, Jr. (Frankenstein, Dracula, The Mummy, The Invisible Man, All Quiet on the Western Front), and stars a first-rate group of actors. It doesn’t matter who they are; they all play their roles perfectly.

It starts with the hoariest of scary movie cliches: a couple folks are out driving in a terrible storm, and take refuge in an Old, Dark House. At least they aren’t horny teenagers, I suppose.

The house’s tenants hide dark secrets, of course, which are slowly revealed over the course of the night. It feels like a stage play, at times, and I mean that as a compliment; I felt the stage’s intensity as characters faced off.

One relationship shifts dramatically in the course of the night, and that was part of my big surprise. This being 1932, not that far into the talkie era, the film industry’s code of decency hadn’t quite solidified yet. As such, not only do we see a woman change out of a dress, wearing only a short shift beneath it, we’re treated to this bit of dialogue from a girl describing her boyfriend:

Remarkable. We all know exactly what she means, but it’s entirely implied.

In any event, the dark secrets are revealed, one by one. And it’s done masterfully. The dread just builds, and builds, and builds, until a final climactic confrontation. There’s nothing magical or fantastical about it; no ancient spells or science fiction hand-waving (though the family is said to be under a curse). It’s just personalities, people, some deranged and some afraid and some grimly determined to get through it all.

A tremendous film.

Okay, this review is predicated on a surprise, but it’s a surprise that happens ten minutes into the movie. So I feel justified in explaining it, since it’s the core of what I liked about the movie.

The classic The Mummy begins with a group of standard British archaeologists, enthusing over a new find: a mummy (Boris Karloff) and a sealed box, of which the former was buried alive, and the latter should contain the Scroll of Thoth, which was supposed to bring the dead back to life.

The older archeologists argue over what to do, the younger archaeologist opens the box, and the mummy comes to life and grabs the scroll. Of course.

We then cut to ten years later, to the son of the head archaeologist in that scene, who is now digging in Egypt like his father did, where he is approached by…Boris Karloff. Not wrapped in mummy bandages; just standing there, physically frail but psychically overwhelming.

So the entire movie is about the revived mummy, now walking about Egypt like any man, using his powers in a desperate attempt to revive his long-dead lover. Of course, there are complications, and a surprisingly effective love story in the center of it, as is common in any 1930′s movie.

Which is what makes it so effective. It’s not about a shambling, dusty corpse; it’s about a driven man, blessed with ancient powers, and the normal humans who try to oppose him. It’s a contest of wills, and Karloff plays a man of such intense will that he steals every scene he’s in. He has immense gravitas; he practically glows with it. My eyes were drawn to him in every scene.

Even the ending contains a bit of a surprise; the mummy may have succeeded in something rather horrifying.

Overall, it’s a surprisingly effective movie, mostly because of Karloff’s performance. A great little film.

Watching The Wolf Man was a strange experience for me.

I first saw The Wolf Man in bits and pieces when I was in my early teens. I really enjoyed the tense mood and varied characters. I was in a phase of my life when I was watching a lot of black-and-white films, so I appreciated that type of movie: simple, direct, and reasonably well-acted.

Upon re-watching it this week…it doesn’t hold up. While it is simple, direct, and reasonably well-acted, the plot itself just drags in places. It’s a great example of pacing problems. The story’s fine; the editing and pacing just aren’t tight enough.

It does play successfully off that perfectly horrible fear of loss of control. The protagonist can feel his sanity slipping away, almost as soon as he contracts lycanthropy. He’s constantly haunted by it. He’s a decent man, and tries to be reasonable, but he knows what he’s doing. And how can a person stop himself?

Unfortunately, the plot mires itself in side stories which distract from his path towards the beast, rather than highlight or enhance it. As sweet and poignant as the love story is at times, it slows the movie down, and does little to bolster it.

But it does feature some solid performances and genuinely creepy moments. Worth watching.

Vincent Price. This is why Vincent Price is such a great horror movie actor.

You may have read the original Poe story, in which a corrupt prince holds a party at his manor, despite the raging plague outside. Price plays the prince in this 1964 film version, which has been expanded into a study of evil.

And it’s a solid little story, really, as Price’s character brings in an innocent young peasant woman with great Christian faith, and shows her the decadence of his life and that of his peers. He’s completely given himself over to Satan, explicitly, and enjoys needling the girl with a faith completely opposite to her own.

There are a few sub-plots dealing with the girl’s lover, the plague-ridden peasants outside, and another baron at the masque, which serve mostly as interesting highlights to the main story. I was particularly thrilled by the bit with Skip Martin’s character—a jester-like little person—who wreaks vengeance on a noble for his treatment of Martin’s character’s wife. Besides Price, Martin’s the best actor of the bunch.

The film was directed by Roger Corman, which I initially took as an ill omen. Actually, the film looked just fine; perfectly competent directing. That said, for such a gothic concept, I felt like it could’ve been shot much more imaginatively, giving the film a creepier, more intense feel. This is meant to be horror, and much of it was filmed like a stage play. That may be more the fault of the cinematographer Nicolas Roeg, though, who went on to direct some interesting things but I think fell flat here.

Despite the rather staid look of the film, it’s definitely fun to watch, especially to watch Price be delightfully evil all the way through.

This week begins Classic Horror Movie Week, where every day I write about a classic “horror” movie, leading up to Halloween on Friday. Um, that’s Halloween the holiday, not Halloween the movie. Anyvay. I watched all these movies for the first time this week, so you’re getting a fresh perspective.

I’m starting with Howard Hawks’ The Thing From Another World, often called just The Thing. The basic plot involves a group of military and scientists at an arctic research station, who discover a crashed UFO, and recover a body. It thaws and comes back to life, and attacks them. Cue frenzied gunshots and general mayhem.

What’s remarkable about this film is how taut it is. It’s populated with half a dozen standout characters, each with distinctive personalities and viewpoints. One driven scientist insists that the creature is too important of a scientific discovery to kill, even if it’s attacking them. One soldier is just plain freaked out by the thing. A reporter is always asking for information or complaining about the news blackout. The hero keeps a level head, of course, though he has his unsteady moments.

And they all interact. Some of the characters become antagonists, but never villains. They just all have different motivations.

Take that scientist. He becomes a real blockade to the hero, but his opinions make complete sense. He’s not crazy; he just believes that the scientific discoveries possible from researching this alien are more important than their lives. Understandable.

Apparently, the creature never looked scary enough for Hawks, so he did the next best thing: it appears briefly, and then usually from a distance. It’s effective, really, turning the movie into more of a noir piece. You fear the bad guy (whether the mob boss or the murderous alien) because the movie builds up to him.

Overall, I was impressed. It’s a solid little film, full of fun, interesting characters and a taut, fast-paced plot. Like the best of the noir films, if nothing else it’s an exhilarating ride.

As sung in my church last week: “O God Of Earth and Altar”, words by G.K. Chesterton, melody arranged by Ralph Vaughan Williams:

O God of earth and altar, bow down and hear our cry,

Our earthly rulers falter, our people drift and die;

The walls of gold entomb us, the swords of scorn divide;

Take not Thy thunder from us, but take away our pride.

From all that terror teaches, from lies of tongue and pen,

From all the easy speeches that comfort cruel men;

From sale and profanation of honor and the sword;

From sleep and from damnation, deliver us, good Lord!

Tie in a living tether, the prince and priest and thrall;

Bind all our lives together, smite us and save us all;

In ire and exultation aflame with faith and free,

Lift up a living nation, a single sword to Thee.

In other news, thanks to all the attendees of my third annual Halloween Party last night! A total of 12 attendees this year. The apple pie and cakes went quickly, as did the party mix. I was a bit surprised that folks barely touched the hot apple cider and mashed sweet potatoes, especially on a wet autumn night like this one. Nevertheless, ’twas a fun night, as usual.

I love seasonal food.

Of course, I’m blessed with a society that provides all sorts of food at any time of the year. If I want blueberries in February, I can get them.

But some food remains inextricably linked to certain seasons. Lemon ice cream just only tastes right in the summer. Beef pot pie requires snow on the ground (and, ideally, a crackling fire). Strawberry shortcake seems tied to spring, somehow.

And autumn is the best time for apple pie.

Now, whereas some dishes are open for experimentation, apple pie remains a specific, classic dessert. When a person bites into apple pie, their teeth and tongue come to the experience with certain very definite expectations: Tender, flaky, buttery crust. A lattice top. Flavorful, tart apples. A sweet, thick interior that holds together; no running all over the plate.

That’s what this recipe delivers. And—please don’t click away from this page when you read this—it even includes its own pie crust, made from scratch. I’m proud of this, because the crust takes about 5 minutes to prepare (plus rolling it out, but that only takes another 10).

In fact, despite the length of this recipe, it’s really dead simple: toss the crust ingredients together and massage until it forms a dough. Chill it, then roll it out. Chop up the apples, and toss the remaining ingredients together with the apples. Put them in the crust, make the lattice top (or not), and bake it. And you’ve got perfect apple pie.

Prep Time 30-45 minutes, total time 1 ½ to 2 hours, plus cooling and chilling time

Software

For The Crust:

2.5 cups (350 grams) all-purpose flour

1.5 sticks (¾ cup) butter

¼ cup Crisco or other vegetable shortening

½ teaspoon salt

7 tablespoons water

For The Pie:

3 Granny Smith apples

3 McIntosh apples

4 teaspoons lemon juice

¾ cup sugar

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

¼ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon allspice

1/8 teaspoon allspice

Hardware

Large bowl

Pie tin

To make the crust, melt the butter in a microwave for 30 seconds on high. Combine all ingredients in a large bowl, first with a spoon, then with your hands, massaging until it forms a consistent dough. Divide into two halves (ideally, make one half slightly larger than the other; the larger half will be the crust and the smaller the lattice top). Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, then roll out.

Preheat the oven to 500°.

Peel each apple thusly: cut it into quarters, then cut out the core using a V cut, then cut off the peel. Slice into roughly ¼” slices and put them all in a bowl.

To the apples, add the lemon juice and stir. Separately, stir together the sugar and spices, then add those to the apples and stir until all the sugar mixture clings to the apples.

Pour the apples into the crust. Cut the remaining crust into strips. To make the lattice, lay out one small piece on the far end, and another at a 90° angle to it on an adjacent side. Then lay a third, longer piece next to the first one, peeling back the second piece so the third piece can go under it. Lay the fourth piece parallel to the second piece, peeling back the first piece so the fourth piece can go under that one. Continue layout out lattice pieces, peeling back existing pieces to create the proper lattice effect.

Bake at 425° F until the crust is golden, about 25 minutes, then reduce heat to 375° F and bake until the juices bubble and the top is deep GBD (Golden Brown and Delicious), at least 25 minutes more. Remove from the oven and cool on a wire rack. The pie will need several hours in the refrigerator before the filling sets firmly. Then get out the vanilla ice cream and prepare yourself for some classic apple pie.

(A tip for rolling out dough: Lay the dough between two sheets of wax paper, and roll it out. You won’t need to sprinkle flour everywhere, your rolling pin will stay clean, and once the dough is at the edge of the wax paper, it’s wide enough to fit in the pie tin.)

So I’ve finally bought and read some Tintin, the iconic comic book character created by French artist Herge. Specifically, I read The Adventures of Tintin, Volume 1.

I’d like to write that I loved it, that it was a work of genius. I can’t. It had fun moments, and inventive moments. It was certainly good, in a timeless sense.

But it just didn’t come together for me.

According to the Tintin Wikipedia article, Herge initially improvised all his stories, throwing Tintin into predicaments without knowing how to resolve them, then coming up with a solution on-the-spot. As a result, the book features many frustrating cliffhangers of the worst sort, such as Tintin being rolled up in a carpet, shot, then thrown into a river, only to discover that Tintin had escaped from the carpet earlier (with no prior clues to indicate this).

Herge began planning his stories with The Blue Lotus, which is included in Volume 1. The planning improves the storyline tremendously; I fully enjoyed that particular storyline.

Another problem was the characters. Tintin’s a plucky young man, but he lacks sufficient depth of character to make me really root for him. The rest of the cast is filled out by broad, simple personalities common to the era.

I wouldn’t mind that if the stories themselves carried any depth, but most of these adventures are, well, adventures–simple mysteries and thrillers. Astro Boy, for example, has simple characters, but depth of plot. Tintin just felt…simple.

Perhaps that’s his appeal: simplicity. I can appreciate that, and perhaps I’ll revisit Tintin with an eye for clean stories and straightforward characters. But for now, I can’t be counted a Tintin fan.

Jason Calacanis is a very interesting man.

He’s a classic Silicon Valley entrepreneur. He started several major websites, including Silicon Alley Reporter and Weblogs, and is currently running Mahalo, which is a sort of hybrid Google/Wikipedia site.

I first heard Jason Calacanis—literally, heard—when he was a guest on This Week in Tech, a tech audio podcast. He was completely confident, and opinionated, and threw out extremely self-assured opinions.

And this ticked people off.

Now, he wouldn’t attack people directly (except when clearly in fun), and he made clear that he’s been wrong before. He was also playful with his status as Silicon Alley big-shot, joking about his ability to buy things and such. But he was definitely certain of his beliefs, and dismissive of other opinions. Which he certainly has the right to be.

And, again, this offended people.

I discovered that Calacanis is rather infamous online. Apparently, people can’t stand the fact that he has strong opinions.

It’d be one thing if he were nasty. He’s just opinionated. Doesn’t he have the right to be?

Anyway. He did something interesting a few months ago: he stopped blogging, and set up an email list. Instead of blogging to the internet, he sends an email to a relatively small group of people (750).

He pointed out that pressure from other bloggers, debates on TechMeme, accusations and comment hate, just became too distracting. As he put it, “Today the blogosphere is so charged, so polarized, and so filled with haters hating that it’s simply not worth it. I’d rather watch from the sidelines and be involved in a smaller, more personal, conversation.”

And today he posted a long, detailed entry to his email list about his decision to lay off a few people at Mahalo. He explained all of his reasons with clarity and honesty, and described the actual layoff process and what he’s learned from laying folks off over the years.

It’s an honest, insightful post, and I think it benefits from being sent to a ”safe” group of people who’ve actively signed up to hear what he has to say. It changes the nature of the content, in a good way.

If you want to sign up for Jason’s list, head over to his email list page. It may take you a while to get in, as you have to wait for a slot to open. But I think it’s worth it.

Snapfish is an online photo printing service. Quite simply, you upload your photos to the Snapfish site, choose your print options, and pay with a credit card. Your photos arrive in the mail a few days later.

It’s simple and powerful. There are similar sites, like SmugMug, but Snapfish is one of the cheapest and simplest. The site also provides basic photo editing tools (red-eye reduction, tweaking colors, cropping photos, etc.).

You can get your photos as regular prints, as well as posters, photo books, calendars, mugs, etc.

Overall, it’s a really solid service. Highly recommended.