Sick humor

Combine comedy with horror this season and get two emotions for the price of one

by Robert David Sullivan

Comedy films for Halloween may strike some people as akin to serving meatloaf for Thanksgiving. But the best kinds of humor are based on fears. Fear of looking foolish, fear of losing your keys, fear of being impaled on a sharp stick -- it's all pretty much the same thing. And when a movie can make you laugh and cringe at the same time, you get two emotions for the price of one. So don't limit yourself to the horror section of the video store this Halloween. Here are some grossly funny alternatives to watching Jason come back from the dead yet again.

Wholesome fun

Who knows why cannibalism is such a popular theme in sick-humor films? It must have something to do with sex . . . or maybe it's just that disturbing smile painted on Ronald McDonald's face. At any rate, the consumption of human flesh has been the punch line for many a campy horror flick. There's the sci-fi feature Soylent Green (1973), in which Charlton Heston utters one of the most famous closing lines in movie history, and the splatterfest Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), which redefines the term prime cut. Even The Silence of the Lambs (1991) uses the urbane Hannibal the Cannibal for moments of sick comic relief, as opposed to presenting him as a just plain sickening serial killer who's still on the loose.

For a tasty triple feature, start with Paul Bartel's Eating Raoul (1982), in which a suburban couple named Bland come up with a way to rid the world of a few sexual "perverts" and also supply their new restaurant with fresh meat. (Ken Starr would absolutely drool over this movie.) Follow that with Bob Balaban's Parents (1989), which should curb your appetite for the "cocktail culture" of the late '50s. Randy Quaid, as a sinister version of Ward Cleaver, loves to barbecue at his new ranch house, but why should he pay those high butcher bills? And for the main course, get Stephen Sondheim's macabre and witty musical Sweeney Todd (a PBS version from 1985, with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn, is available on video), about the "demon barber" in 19th-century London whose customers end up in meat pies. "The history of the world, my sweet," Todd explains, "is who gets eaten and who gets to eat." Be sure to serve appropriate snacks.

Once is never enough

Maybe the taste of human flesh is too gamy for you, but you still have a craving for murder. Fear not; there are plenty of black comedies about serial killers who have deeper motives than merely a well-stocked freezer. You could start with Frank Capra's version of Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), in which two sweet old ladies put lonely gentlemen out of their misery. Cary Grant gives a frantic performance as the nephew who stumbles upon the bodies in the basement, and Peter Lorre plays -- surprise! -- a creepy little psycho. Even Charlie Chaplin got into the serial-killer act with Monsieur Verdoux (1947), playing a Parisian who bumps off one rich wife after another. (The highlight is his struggle with Martha Raye on a rowboat in the middle of a lake.) In Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949), Alec Guinness plays eight different murder victims, all killed by a greedy little twit trying to get a family inheritance. More-recent killing sprees include Neil Simon's Murder by Death (1976), in which the world's greatest detectives (Sam Spade, Charlie Chan, etc.) are lured to an isolated mansion and picked off one by one. And in John Waters's Serial Mom (1994), the world's most perfect housewife executes people for such offenses as forgetting to rewind a rented videotape and wearing white shoes after Labor Day.

Back for more

Some altruistic souls want to create life rather than end it. Unfortunately, the results are never pretty (sadly, mad scientists never employ hair stylists as mad assistants). You can start with the original Frankenstein (1931), followed by James Whale's wittier sequel, Bride of Frankenstein (1936). For a double feature of parodies with vastly different styles, try Mel Brooks's best film, the riotous Young Frankenstein (1974). Then move on to the much more disgusting Re-Animator (1985), about a young med student's ability to revive the dead. The comic high point is a severed head whose sexual appetite is very much intact.

Horrible auteurs

Twin films from the same director make for a nice Brattle Theatre-type way to spend the evening. For example, Roman Polanski made two good horror-themed flicks in a row, but they have completely different tones. The Fearless Vampire Killers or: Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are in My Neck (1967) mixes a lot of slapstick into a hunt for bloodsuckers in wintry Transylvania. The cast includes Polanski himself and future Manson Family victim Sharon Tate. The next year, Polanski made the more satiric and more chilling Rosemary's Baby, in which Mia Farrow unwittingly brings another little devil into the world. Ruth Gordon is a hoot (and an Oscar winner) as the nosy witch from next door. For a more schlocky tone, there's the oeuvre of Larry Cohen. It's Alive! (1974), about a killer baby, is a sentimental favorite of mine, the first horror flick I ever saw in a movie theater. Cohen brings new meaning to the phrase sight gag. A moment after a milkman disappears into his truck, for example, we see a river of milk pour out the back onto the sidewalk . . . then it slowly turns red. Cohen's best film is probably Q (1982), about a man-eating winged serpent holed up in the Chrysler Building in New York City. The film has an added bite in the wake of recent stories about bricks and other pieces of crumbling buildings falling to Manhattan sidewalks. Here, blood and body parts drop to the street during lunch hour, and rooftop sunbathers find a much greater menace than peeping Toms. David Carradine is the hard-boiled police detective on the case. "Maybe his head just got loose and fell off," he cracks after seeing a decapitated window-washer.

Something completely different

You can never go wrong with the British comedy group Monty Python, those pioneers of bad taste. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) includes pointers on how to tell whether someone is a witch ("She turned me into a newt!") and one of the most infamous amputation scenes in film history ("It's only a flesh wound"). Monty Python's The Meaning of Life (1983) features an appearance by the Grim Reaper and what is surely the best movie vomiting scene of all time ("Get a bucket for Mr. Creosote!").

Saturday-night cartoons

Animated films can be fun and frightening, particularly with the right chemical stimulants -- and they can be just as effective with the sound turned down, making them perfect for parties. For maximum bad taste, try Peter Jackson's Meet the Feebles (1989), a parody of The Muppet Show starring a drug-addicted frog, a rabbit ravaged by sexual diseases, and a rat whose sideline is directing porno flicks. These puppet animals puke, piss, and, yes, come copiously. But things get really messy when Heidi the Hippo hunts down the cast with a machine gun. In Scenes from the Surreal (1992), Czech filmmaker Jan Svankmajer works with claymation, but the results are like nothing seen in Gumby. See the head of a soccer player destroyed in inventive ways (including by a meat grinder, a needle and thread, and a model train). Watch a bunch of body parts assemble themselves into a fully functioning, if grotesque-looking, man. This collection of shorts also includes a brief documentary about Svankmajer's techniques (including where he gets his "fake" blood). Other collections include several volumes of "Spike and Mike's Twisted Animation" and Rhino Video's "Weird Cartoons" series, which is likely to offend a lot of viewers with "Little Black Sambo" and similar politically incorrect films. But the series also has some eerie offerings. Volume One includes a brief tribute to hallucinations called "Hasher's Delirium." That's followed by "The Devil's Ball," a crude claymation short in which fish and bird skeletons dance together, drinking glasses (with legs) clink against and shatter each other, and a monkey practically rapes a comatose-looking female doll. And "Cobweb Hotel" has a spider operating an inn "for flies only."

Cheap laughs

Finally, if you're really wimpy and don't want to risk seeing anything authentically frightening, return to the days when monsters sported Styrofoam skulls and polyester pullovers. Get an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 ^{watch Mike Nelson and his robot friends rip a Grade} Z horror flick to shreds. Several episodes of the television series are on video, but it's easiest to find Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie (1996), which features running commentary on the 1955 turkey This Island Earth. "This is what went on in Salvador Dali's head," explains one of the robots, who also describes a cheap-looking monster as "Ted Kennedy in a Barney suit."

Robert David Sullivan spends Halloween cowering in his bedroom with a remote control and a box of vanilla wafers. He is afraid of heights, intimacy, and paying too much for a muffler.