Incarnations of Death: A Cinematic Journey

The incarnation of Death has been a compelling and enduring subject in cinematic history. This essay examines how filmmakers have personified Death, exploring the character’s various representations, from the ominous and fearsome to the sympathetic and misunderstood. Through these portrayals, the movies delve into humanity’s complex relationship with mortality, each iteration of Death reflecting different cultural, philosophical, and emotional perspectives.

Death, as an abstract concept, has been personified in various forms throughout human history, reflecting cultural, philosophical, and existential perspectives. In cinema, the portrayal of Death transcends mere narrative function, often embodying complex themes of mortality, inevitability, and the human condition. This essay explores the cinematic incarnations of Death, highlighting the multifaceted ways filmmakers have brought this character to life, and examining the thematic significance behind these portrayals.

 

“It was the salmon mouse.”

In 1934’s Death Takes a Holiday we find Death being portrayed as a character yearning to understand human emotions and experiences. This film features Fredric March as Death, who takes on human form to experience life and understand why humans fear him. This narrative explores the duality of Death as both a fearsome force and a seeker of understanding, highlighting the intrinsic link between life and death. The films suggest that understanding and empathy can bridge the gap between fear and acceptance, offering a more nuanced view of mortality.

 

Death Takes a Holiday (1934)

The Grim Reaper, cloaked in black and wielding a scythe, is perhaps the most iconic representation of Death. This image is steeped in Western medieval tradition, symbolizing the harvesting of souls. One of the most iconic cinematic representations of Death is found in Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 film The Seventh Seal. In this entry, Death is personified by a pale, black-clad figure who engages in a chess game with a knight, Antonius Block, returning from the Crusades. Bergman’s Death is both an inevitable force and an intellectual counterpart, embodying the existential anxieties of the knight and, by extension, humanity. The chess game symbolizes the human attempt to delay or outwit death, a futile endeavour that underscores the film’s exploration of faith, doubt, and the search for meaning in the face of mortality. Bergman’s austere, yet nuanced portrayal highlights Death’s omnipresence and impartiality, serving as a stark reminder of life’s impermanence.

 

The Seventh Seal (1957)

In some films, Death is not personified as a character but is represented through symbolism and abstract forms. In Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, the monolith can be interpreted as a harbinger of change, representing the unknown and the inevitable evolution of mankind, akin to Death. The transition through the Stargate and the eventual transformation of astronaut Dave Bowman into the Star Child symbolizes the death of the old self and the birth of a new existence. This abstract portrayal invites viewers to contemplate the transformative power of death and its role in the cosmic order.

 

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

In contrast, Terry Pratchett’s “Discworld” series, adapted into several films and TV series, presents a more humorous and endearing version of Death. This Death, a skeletal figure with a deep, booming voice, is far from the terrifying spectre seen in Bergman’s work. Instead, he is portrayed as a character with a dry sense of humour and a surprisingly compassionate demeanour. Pratchett’s Death, who often speaks in CAPITAL LETTERS, provides a satirical yet thoughtful commentary on the human condition, emphasizing the absurdity of life and the inevitability of death. This version of Death is approachable and almost likable, reflecting a more modern, perhaps less fearful, perspective on the end of life.

 

Hogfather (2006)

The 1998 film Meet Joe Black, a remake of Death Takes a Holiday, offers a romantic and philosophical take on the character of Death. Here, Death assumes the form of a handsome young man, played by Brad Pitt, who takes a temporary hiatus from his duties to experience life and love. This incarnation of Death is curious, introspective, and emotionally complex, exploring human relationships and the subtleties of life. The film examines themes of love, loss, and the preciousness of time, presenting Death as an entity capable of empathy and transformation. Through this portrayal, the film attempts to humanize Death, making the concept more relatable and less terrifying by intertwining it with the beauty and fragility of the human experience.

 

Meet Joe Black (1998)

Some films anthropomorphize death, giving it human traits and a personality, often to blend dark themes with humour. In sequel, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey, death is portrayed as a comedic, competitive character who eventually aids the protagonists. This light-hearted representation diminishes the fear of death with a not to subtle nod to The Seventh Seal, making it a part of life’s absurdity.

 

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991)

In Final Destination, directed by James Wong, Death is depicted not as a physical being but as an unseen force orchestrating a series of fatal accidents. This representation taps into the horror genre, playing on the fear of the unpredictable and inevitable nature of death. The franchise’s premise revolves around characters who cheat death, only to find that they cannot escape their fate. Death, in this context, is a relentless and invisible presence, an entity that cannot be bargained with or avoided. The films reflect a fatalistic view of mortality, emphasizing the randomness and inevitability of death, and exploiting the audience’s fear of sudden and unforeseen demise.

 

Final Destination  (2000)

In the 2014 animated film The Book of Life, La Muerte, voiced by Kate del Castillo, represents Death in the Mexican tradition of Día de los Muertos. La Muerte is a vibrant, skeletal figure adorned with flowers and colourful attire, celebrating the cyclical nature of life and death. This portrayal underscores a cultural perspective where death is not an end but a continuation, intertwined with the joyous remembrance of those who have passed

 

The Book of Life (2014)

The cinematic incarnations of Death reflect a rich tapestry of human beliefs, fears, and hopes regarding mortality. From the Grim Reaper’s sombre inevitability in The Seventh Seal to the curious, humanized Death in Meet Joe Black, and the cultural celebration in The Book of Life, filmmakers have used Death to explore profound existential themes. Abstract representations in films like 2001: A Space Odyssey and The Final Destination further expand the contemplation of death beyond the personal to the universal. Each portrayal invites audiences to engage with the concept of Death, not merely as an end, but as a fundamental aspect of the human experience, enriching our understanding of life itself.

In conclusion, the cinematic incarnations of Death reveal a rich tapestry of interpretations, each reflecting different aspects of human thought and emotion regarding mortality. From the grim reaper in The Seventh Seal to the curious and empathetic figure in Meet Joe Black, these portrayals offer insights into our deepest fears, hopes, and philosophical inquiries about life and death. Whether depicted as a foreboding force, a humorous entity, or a romantic figure, Death in Cinema continues to captivate audiences, providing a mirror to our own existential musings and cultural attitudes toward the end of life.

Cemetery Man (1994) – Review

“Hell, at a certain point in life, you realize you know more dead people than living” and it is with this sentiment we get an insightful look into the protagonist of Michele Soavi’s “Dellamorte Dellamore” – or Cemetery Man as it is also known – a film that masterfully blends dark humour, existential musings and gore in a way that few films have managed to achieve.

Based on Tiziano Sclavi’s novel Dellamorte Dellamore, the film tells the story of Francesco Dellamorte (Rupert Everett), the “watchman” of a small isolated cemetery in the town of Buffalora, Italy. Francesco leads a solitary life, accompanied only by his simple-minded and mute assistant, Gnaghi (François Hadji-Lazaro). What makes this particular cemetery stand out is that it has a peculiar secret, that the dead rise from their graves seven days after burial, and it is Dellamorte’s job to re-kill these “Returners” to maintain peace. One day, a beautiful widow (Anna Falchi) visits the cemetery to mourn her recently deceased husband and Francesco becomes infatuated with her and they soon engage in a passionate affair, but their romance is cut short when the widow dies – coitus interruptus by her newly risen husband – and this is the inciting incident of Dellamorte’s downward spiral.

 

Who exactly finds sex in a cemetery romantic?

Francesco’s life begins to unravel as he becomes increasingly desensitized to death and violence. He starts questioning his own sanity and the purpose of his existence. He faces numerous bizarre and disturbing events, including encounters with a variety zombies, surreal hallucinations, and peculiar townsfolk. As his mental state deteriorates, he becomes disillusioned with life and increasingly nihilistic. He has an encounter with the incarnation of Death, who seems a little put out by Dellamorte’s actions, stating “Stop killing the dead. They’re mine. If you don’t want the dead coming back to life, why don’t you just kill the living? Shoot them in the head. Are you listening to me?” Is this another hallucination or is Death making an important critique? Needless to say, this sends things down an even darker path, if that’s even imaginable at this time.

 

Would you ignore advice from this guy?

Francesco meets and falls for several women, all of whom bear a striking resemblance to the widow – all played by the beautiful Anna Falchi – and this leads to repeated cycles of love and loss, with each relationship ending in tragedy, further fuelling his existential despair. But Dellamorte isn’t the only one falling in love, we have a Gnaghi developing a strange romantic relationship with the decapitated head of a young woman named Valentina (Fabiana Formica), the mayor’s daughter who died had in a motorcycle accident. Despite the grotesque nature of their relationship, Gnaghi finds a peculiar form of companionship and happiness with Valentina’s animated head. To say this is a rather bizarre relationship would be the understatement of the century.

 

Who says there’s nothing good on TV?

The film reaches its climax when Francesco decides to leave Buffalora, believing that escaping the town will end his torment, where he can’t decide if the living are any better than the dead. He and Gnaghi drive to the edge of the town only to find that the road ends at a cliff overlooking a lake, trapping them in Buffalora. Francesco, in a moment of clarity, contemplates the possibility that the world outside the cemetery is no different from the one within it, reflecting the film’s recurring themes of death, love, and the inescapable nature of fate. Cemetery Man closes with a sense of ambiguity, leaving us to ponder the deeper meanings behind Francesco’s experiences and the nature of reality itself.

 

“I should have known it. The rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

Stray Observations:

• The character Francesco Dellamorte in the comic was visually based on Rupert Everett so casting Everett in the movie is much like the casting of Samuel Jackson as Nick Fury in the MCU.
• The Latin inscription over the Buffalora Cemetery gate reads RESURRECTURIS, which translates to “For those who will rise again.” So they get points for truth in advertising.
• When Francesco and Widow are kissing in the cemetery’s ossuary, with the shroud over their heads, the shot mimics the painting, “The Lovers” by René Magritte.
• Like many films in the zombie genre the word “zombie is never used, instead, they are called “returners” as they return from the grave.
• The returned motorcyclist bursts from his grave riding his bike and this visual reminded me of the cover of Meat Loaf’s album “Bat Out of Hell.”
• If the person you are in love with is turned on by making out in a grotto filled with corpses, and things go drastically wrong from there, that’s kind of on you.

 

Love from beyond the grave.

Michele Soavi’s direction is a visual treat as he crafts a world that is both surreal and grotesque, with imaginative set pieces and stunning cinematography that sucks us into this bizarre landscape. The film’s visual style is reminiscent of the best Italian horror films, with its rich colours, intricate lighting, and hauntingly beautiful compositions. Soavi seamlessly blends horror and comedy, creating a film that is as unsettling as it is amusing. It also does a great job of exploring themes of mortality, the futility of escape, and the cyclical nature of life and death as Cemetery Man is known for its surreal and dreamlike atmosphere, blending horror and dark comedy to create a unique narrative style. Michele Soavi’s direction, combined with Mauro Marchetti’s hauntingly beautiful cinematography and Riccardo Biseo and Manuel De Sica’s evocative score, enhances the film’s eerie and otherworldly mood.

 

Otherworldly is right, but also damn creepy.

On the acting front, Rupert Everett delivers a stellar performance as the brooding and enigmatic Dellamorte. His portrayal is both charismatic and melancholic, capturing the character’s detachment and dark humour. Anna Falchi does a great job in all three of her roles and she and Everett bring to the screen three very offbeat relationships, all doomed in different ways. François Hadji-Lazaro, who plays Dellamorte’s loyal but dim-witted assistant Gnaghi, provides much of the film’s comedic relief and their chemistry adds depth to the narrative, making their bizarre circumstances strangely relatable, if a bit odd. We also get local police detective Marshall Straniero (Mickey Knoxx) blasély ignoring all the evidence pointing to Dellamorte being a multiple murderer, as if he knows he’s guilty but that the cemetery job is too important to lock him up.

 

Law and Order: Special Undead Unit.

However, Cemetery Man is not without its flaws. The pacing can be uneven, with some sequences feeling overly drawn out or disjointed as the film’s episodic nature fights against its overall narrative. Additionally, the film’s blend of horror and comedy may not appeal to all tastes, as it frequently shifts between tones in a way that can be rather jarring. Despite these issues, the film’s originality and audacity make it a standout entry in the horror genre. As for the effects, the Italian make-up and practical effects crew on this film all do stellar work and the “zombies” on display are a visual treat, especially when being dispatched with such casual ease, especially if it’s a group of undead nuns and boy scouts.

 

A good motto to live by here is “Be Prepared.”

This the kind of film that defies easy categorization. It is a dark comedy/ horror, a philosophical exploration and a gory spectacle and with Michele Soavi’s direction and Rupert Everett’s compelling performance it created an unforgettable cinematic experience. While it may not appeal to everyone, especially those with a low tolerance for gore or dark humour, Cemetery Man is a must-watch for fans of offbeat horror and cult cinema. It’s a delightful dive into the macabre that leaves a lasting impression.

The Bat Woman (1968) – Review

By 1968 the Adam West-led Batman television series was already coming to a close, with Batmania fading as fast as it had exploded, but down in Mexico director René Cardona decided to bring to life his own version of “The Caped Crusader” only this offering would have a bit of a twist and some nice Mexican flavour.

As everyone knows, millionaire Bruce Wayne’s parents were murdered when he was a child and he subsequently dedicated himself to fighting crime as Batman, that is not quite the case with hero of The Bat Woman. While this particular Bat Woman does have an alter-ego, a rich socialite named Gloria, she uses her vast fortune to fight against the forces of evil while dressed up in a Batman-type costume, she also uses her masked persona to become a great wrestler.  That last thing isn’t something you could picture Batman doing as a sideline, maybe race car driving but nothing so gauche as wrestling.  This does lead to an obvious question “If Bat Woman’s alter ego Gloria is a rich socialite why does she need a career as a wrestler?” I’m left to assume that beating up the forces of evil doesn’t give her enough of a workout and she uses this to keep in shape.

 

Do they not have Pilates in Mexico?

As for the plot of this movie, it turns out that someone has been murdering wrestlers and a fifth victim has recently been found floating off the coast of Acapulco – other murders having been committed in Macao and Hong Kong – and the FBI has sent Special Agent Mario Robles (Héctor Godoy) to Acapulco to head the investigation. He quickly informs the local authorities (Crox Alvardo) that he has enlisted the aide of Bat Woman (Maura Monti), who has helped him solve some cases in the past and history as a wrestlers could be useful. Cue the Bat Woman, who parachutes in and is quickly driven over to the coroner’s office to examine the body of the latest victim, where she is told, “Like the other wrestlers, pineal gland fluid has been extracted surgically.” It’s made clear by the coroner that the killer must be a skilled surgeon, as he uses a small siphoning device that hardly leaves a trace in the cranial cavity, but when asked “What is this evil doctor trying to achieve?” the coroner replies “I don’t know. We know less about this gland than any other part of the body.”

 

“We’re talking mad science, aren’t we?”

But what type of mad science is going on, and who is behind it? Enter Dr. Eric Williams (Roberto Cañedo) a neurosurgeon who operates out of a hidden lab aboard his large yacht – if you’re going to do mad science you may as well do it in style – and his diabolic plan involves taking pineal gland fluid from wrestlers and injecting it into fish in the hopes of transforming them into humanoid aquatic monsters.  He would then release them in great numbers and take over the world’s oceans, presumable step three is “Profit.” This all seems like a totally logical plan, it pretty much checks off all the boxes on a Mad Scientist’s bucket list, or at least for what is required for this type of story. Unfortunately, the experiments aren’t going all that well and he needs more wrestlers, even though his lab assistant Igor (Carlos Suárez) points out that a bunch of murdered wrestlers is starting to arouse suspicion. This does not sit well with Williams, who claims “We need athletes, very strong people so our specimen will be as perfect as I dreamt of.” Now, I don’t want to throw shade on the whole wrestling community, but are they the only examples of “strong athletes” in the world?

 

“We must hunt down Dwayne Johnson and John Cena.”

What follows is a lot of running around, with Bat Woman, her friend Mario and international agent Tony Roca (Armando Silvestre) – the third wheel to this party – trying to figure out who is the evil mastermind behind these nefarious murders.  Once the name “Dr. Eric Williams” pops up and he is revealed to be a neurosurgeon ,whose boat just so happen to be in both Macao and Hong Kong when they had their murder spree, it’s pretty obvious he’s their man, they just have to prove it. But we still have some time fill up so we’ll get Bat Woman sneaking aboard the villain’s boat, discovering the lab and what she believes to some sort of fish-man, then the mad doctor will send a legion of henchman to capture her – something about wanting to turn her into a fish-woman – until, eventually, the movie reaches its explosive ending. Mind you, I can think of many things to do with Maura Monti but turning her into a fish is not one of them.

 

“I’m not just mad, I’m completely fucking nuts.”

Stray Observations:

• Unlike her American counterpart, the Bat Woman has no aversion to guns and is a crack shot with firearms, as well as horseback riding and scuba diving. She also looks better in a bikini than Adam West.
• Bat Woman drives a 1957 Ford Thunderbird and while it’s not as cool as the 1955 Lincoln Futura concept car used in the Adam West Batman series it does have a nice black paint job and those classic fins.
• The mad doctor’s lab is aboard a boat called “Reptilicus” which I hope is a nod to the Danish-American monster movie of the same name.
• The assistant to the mad doctor is named Igor, which is a name synonymous with the Universal Monster Universe, unfortunately, this Igor couldn’t manage a hunched back.
• Bat Woman tosses a beaker of acid into the mad doctor’s face, burning one side of it, and I found it quite surprising that he didn’t develop a dual personality and start calling himself Two-Face.

 

“Next, I’ll rob the Bicentennial Yacht Regatta.”

Directed by Rene Cardona, this Mexican”classic” presents a unique interpretation of the superhero genre, blending elements of the spy genre, science fiction and a bit of campy charm to create a captivating narrative, and while goofy, it does manage to add a little thrill and suspense along the way. The film’s low-budget production certainly helps with the charmingly campy quality, its practical effects and makeup design may seem quaint by today’s standards but do add to its nostalgic appeal – Maura Monti running around in a Bat-Bikini will never lose its charm – but the movie does have a very odd script and the whole wrestling aspect doesn’t make a lot of sense, well, unless Cardona was trying to make this film fall into the very popular luchador genre and not a superhero movie. Perish the thought. But it’s when one tries to force two genres together, in inorganic ways, that you can often run into problems.

Note: Bat Woman doesn’t have a utility belt but she has a make-up compact that can be transformed into a gun, making her more Bond than Batman.

This is the only real issue I have with The Bat Woman; the film stops cold and the plot put on hold so that Bat Woman can have those wrestling scenes, and not only are they unnecessary, despite some hand-waving about her going undercover due to the murder victims being wrestlers, but there is simply no need for her to take a break from tracking down a murdering mad scientist so that she can wrestle. It’s the love of Lucha Libre films that causes these divergent movements. Now, as that genre was famous for masked luchadores battling a variety of crazy threats, with the likes of El Santo fighting robots, zombies and vampires, it’s fair to say that this movie does have our heroine finding herself up against a monster worthy of an El Santo Lucra Libra films. That the creature looks like a cross between The Creature of the Black Lagoon and the Sleestaks from the Land of the Lost I also put in this movie’s favour.

 

“Have any of you guys seen Julie Adams swim by?”

Of course, the biggest question is “How did this get made without DC Comics and Warner Brothers not suing them into oblivion?”  It’s not as if those guys hadn’t already tackled several Superman knock-offs in court and won, so one must assume that they were somehow unaware of its existence, possibly due to the fact that actual title was “La mujer murcielago” and not “Bat Woman.”  There’s also the fact that it was more a James Bond rip-off than a superhero movie. That said, even though she’s mostly seen in a Bat Woman bikini – sporting just the cowl and the cape and a two-piece – but when wrestling she’s wearing a full-on Adam West Batman costume that is only missing the Batman logo. How this flew under their radar remains a mystery.

 

“This is a cease-and-desist order from DC Comics.”

Overall, René Cardona’s The Bat Woman is a fun and exciting little science-fiction superhero spy thriller and actress Maura Monti makes for a strong lead – even if she gets easily captured, faints when the creature finds her in bed and is afraid of mice – and I liked the fact that the two ostensible male leads were fairly useless and her treatment of them was more as friends than possible sexual conquests. This is a low-budget film and thus the action sequences and sets aren’t going to be the greatest – though the movie does work great as a travelogue for beautiful Acapulco – it also has a fun jazzy score and a villain who is a lot of fun and their version of the Gill-Man was surprisingly good, so this is a genre outing that I can recommend to fans of these kinds of weird foreign offerings.

Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things (1972) – Review

The filmography of Bob Clark is a truly interesting thing, his work includes such titles as the horror classic Black Christmas, the classic sex comedy Porky’s and one of the all-time greatest holiday movies A Christmas Story, but today we will look at one of his earliest offerings, a grim little horror flick called Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things.

The film follows a theatre troupe who decides to perform a black magic ritual on a graveyard island, hoping to raise the dead. However, they soon realize that their actions have dire consequences as the dead come back to life with a thirst for blood. Who could have seen that coming? Oh right, everybody who’s ever watched a horror film before, that’s who. The director of this troop of actors is Alan (Alan Ormsby), a twisted and sadistic individual, who refers to his people as “children” and is creepy as all get out.  His reasoning behind this excursion to an island, one that was used as a cemetery for deranged criminals, is suspect at best, and I’d loved to have witnessed a scene where Alan first broached this idea to the group, “Hey guys, let’s take a little boat ride to a small island and dig up the corpse of a long-dead criminal.” Was Miami nightlife in 1972 so bad that this seemed like a good option?

 

Would you follow this man anywhere, let alone to an island of the damned?

Alan isn’t just an asshole boss, anyone who disagrees with him is threatened with dismissal, he’s also a complete sociopath and the real villain of this piece. Using a supposedly authentic dark grimoire, Alan begins a ritual to raise the dead after digging up the body of a man named Orville Dunworth (Seth Sklarey), but this all turns out to be an elaborate prank and the body in the grave is actually one of Alan’s troupe, decked out in full zombie make-up, but scaring the crap out of his employees wasn’t enough, not for our Alan, he has the group drag the real corpse of Orville back to the cabin used by the island caretaker, who Alan and his cronies have left bound and gagged in the trees. Alan continues to degrade the actors, using Orville’s corpse for his own sick jokes until, surprise, surprise, the ritual he had performed earlier did, in fact, work and now the dead are popping out of their graves and looking for revenge.

 

We’re talking about your typical E.C. comic situation here.

Stray Observations:

• A group travelling to a small island for fun and games, who ends up encountering a horde of zombies, would later be the premise of Uwe Boll’s House of the Dead, which could be considered a spiritual remake of this film.
• Besieged by zombies, our cast of characters end up barricading themselves in a small house because Bob Clark clearly like George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead.
• This movie should have included a disclaimer stating that “No Actors Were Hired in the Production of this film” The acting is just that bad.
• Most of the characters in this film share the same name as the actors who are portraying them, could this be to help bad actors remember who they are playing? Which I like to call the Tony Danza method.
• We learn that the previous caretaker went insane and murdered his wife and kids, could Stephen King have been inspired by this film when he wrote The Shining?
• When Alan’s bid to raise the dead seemingly fails he calls Satan a liar, which is an odd accusation to throw to a being known as The Prince of Lies, next, he’ll be calling Satan a bad person.

 

“I call shenanigans on all his evil works.”

The film’s standout feature is undoubtedly its bizarre and unsettling premise, which is both macabre and darkly humorous. The idea of a group of theatre actors playing with dark magic and inadvertently unleashing a zombie on themselves is both ridiculous and terrifying, and the movie does a good job of playing up the absurdity of the situation while still maintaining a sense of horror. You will often question why this group doesn’t just tell Alan to fuck the right off, the employment situation in Miami can’t be that bad, and that hampers one’s ability to become invested in these characters. From a technical standpoint, the movie suffers from poor lighting, amateurish acting, and subpar special effects, however, these shortcomings contribute to the film’s charm and enhance its eerie and unsettling atmosphere.

 

“Did someone say this party is dead?”

The movie’s low budget does add to its appeal, as it highlights the ingenuity and creativity of the filmmakers. You’ve got to hand it to Bob Clark, you give him lemons and he’ll provide you with a brutally macabre pitcher of lemonade. At its worst, Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things is a tasteless exercise in gore and cheap scares without any attempt at social commentary, something key to the success of Romero films, and it’s not helped by its severe pacing issues, though it does pick up towards the latter half but the film’s climax feels rushed and unsatisfying. Additionally, the characters are not particularly well-developed, which makes it difficult to care about their fates.

 

Cause of death, being incredibly stupid.

Despite its flaws, Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things remains a cult classic and an influential movie in the horror genre and its impact can be seen in subsequent films that have taken inspiration from its themes and style.  There are intense and gory scenes that will leave most horror fans satisfied as the zombie make-up is quite good and the soundtrack is also noteworthy, with an eerie and haunting score that amplifies the movie’s creepy ambiance. This is not a good film, in fact, it’s pretty bad at times, but if you watch it with a bunch of friends with the right frame of mind there is some entertainment value to be found.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) – Review

When Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs was released back in 1937 it wasn’t just another movie, it was a groundbreaking moment in cinematic history. Disney’s first-ever full-length animated feature film marked the beginning of an empire that would go on to shape the childhoods of generations.

The film tells the story of Snow White (Adriana Caselotti), a princess with skin as white as snow, lips as red as roses and hair as black as ebony. Fleeing from her wicked stepmother, the Evil Queen (Lucille La Verne), Snow White finds refuge in the cottage of seven dwarfs who quickly fall under her spell of sweet naivety and kindness. With their help, she escapes the queen’s deadly plots but the iconic poisoned apple threatens her happy ending—until a prince’s (Harry Stockwell) kiss breaks the curse and they ride off into the sunset. And while a happy ending was pretty much guaranteed I bet a tear or two will be shed before we reach the end title card.

 

I hope the Prince found her forwarding address.

The narrative is straightforward, yet it carries a timeless appeal and it is Snow White herself, with her innocent beauty and kind heart, that carries us along on this magical journey. She is the quintessential Disney princess and her interactions with the seven dwarfs are endearing, with each dwarf having a distinct personality that adds to the film’s charm. From Grumpy’s constant scowling to Dopey’s lovable antics, these characters have left an indelible mark on popular culture.

Note: The Evil Queen, with her iconic transformation into the Wicked Witch, stands as one of Disney’s most memorable villains. Her malevolence is palpable, yet it’s executed with a sense of elegance that makes her both terrifying and fascinating.

There have always been claims of Disneyfication of classic tales and while many changes have been made from Grimm’s fairy tale to that of the Walt Disney version it’s not as if those original tales were written in stone. In the original version of “Snow White” by the Brothers Grimm, the Evil Queen is Snow White’s biological mother and it was the Brothers themselves who later revised the tale and turned her into a stepmother, apparently to make the folk tale more suitable for children. That’s not to say Disney didn’t make a lot of changes and I’ve listed a few interesting alterations below, and some you can fully understand why some of these changes were made.

 

“Are you afraid of censors, my dear child?”

Things Found in the Grimm Version:

• Wicked Queen does not want Snow White’s heart. She wants Snow White’s lungs and liver, and when the Huntsman brings her a boar’s insides to her, she boils them and eats them, thinking that they are Snow White’s.
• It takes three attempts to kill Snow White and each time the Wicked Queen uses the same disguise.
• Snow White is awakened when a servant drops the coffin and a piece of the poison apple dislodges from Snow White’s throat and she is brought back to life.
• The Wicked Queen is invited to Snow White’s wedding but when she gets there, she is forced to wear a pair of red-hot iron shoes. She is forced to dance in these shoes until she drops dead.

 

That sounds horrible, I’d rather fall off a cliff.

The animation, even by today’s standards, is breathtaking. Every frame is rich with detail, from the lush, hand-painted backgrounds to the fluid movements of the characters. The colours are vibrant, bringing to life the enchanted forests, the cozy cottage, and the evil queen’s dark castle. For a film made in the 1930s, the level of detail and fluidity in the characters’ movements is nothing short of revolutionary. The rich colours and beautifully hand-drawn scenes bring the fairy tale to life with a vibrancy that has scarcely been matched since.  This is a film I can watch on repeat simply because of the visuals.

 

A storybook literally comes to life.

The colours are vibrant, bringing to life the enchanted forests, the cozy cottage, and the evil queen’s dark castle. Each character, from the lovable dwarfs to the terrifying Evil Queen, is brought to life with such care that they have become iconic in their own right. The development of multi-plane cameras revolutionized how an animated film could look, allowing the camera to take deep into this fantasy world. The film’s art director was Albert Hurter and he was instrumental in devising the film’s overall Germanic look, incorporating European illustrations and painting techniques into the animation.

 

This setting doesn’t look at all Grimm.

At the heart of the story is Snow White, a princess whose beauty and kindness are unmatched and while her character might seem simple by modern standards, she embodies the ideal of innocence and goodness that was central to many fairy tales of the time. The dwarfs, each with their own distinct personality, add humour and warmth to the story. They’re not just side characters; they’re integral to the narrative, and their bond with Snow White feels genuine and heartfelt. The film’s villain, the Evil Queen, is iconic in her own right and her transformation into the old hag is one of the most chilling moments in animation history, and her obsession with being “the fairest of them all” drives the plot forward with an intensity that still resonates. Her fate serves as a moral lesson that we can all learn from, like don’t get hung up on your looks.

 

“Also, maybe ignore things said by magic mirrors.”

It should be noted that while Snow White herself is quite charming she is a rather passive heroine and embodies the traditional, and now outdated, ideals of femininity—demure, obedient, and helpless—waiting for a prince to save her. Her lack of agency is particularly striking when compared to modern animated heroines. This portrayal of Snow White as a one-dimensional character can make it difficult for contemporary audiences to connect with her on a deeper level. Of course, the idea of updating this film with modern sensibilities is probably something better left to madmen and studio executives.

 

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Stray Observations:

• Snow White is the youngest Disney Princess at the age of fourteen, which when looked at through modern eyes does make her riding off into the sunset with the prince a little creepy.
• Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora can all communicate with animals and I must ask “Could these characters be considered as early examples of mutants?”
• The Queens Castle is based on the Neuschwanstein in Bavaria, Germany. The same castle was also used in Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.
• The Magic Mirror has to explain that the Queen has taken possession of a pig’s heart, rather than a human heart. Lucky for Snow White that the Queen doesn’t know what a human heart looks like.
• If the Queen was worried that someday Snow White’s beauty would surpass her own why not simply use one of her magic potions to give Snow White severe acne? That’s certainly a less severe option than murder.
• The Queen’s spell book describes the Poison Apple as “One taste of the Poison Apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the Sleeping Death” but she considers the cure of “True Love’s First Kiss” too unlikely to worry about. This will later bite her in the ass.

 

This is why contingency plans are so important.

Industry skeptics called it “Disney’s Folly” but instead it became one of the biggest box office hits before World War II – take that skeptics – and if adjusted for inflation, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is still the highest-grossing animated film of all time, but the reason for this is not simply because it was “The first animated feature” and something audiences had never seen before. While that is a factor it was the story that made it stand out as its emotional depth and the film’s effortlessly balancing act of lighthearted moments with darker, more intense scenes. The juxtaposition of the whimsical world of the dwarfs with the dark, foreboding atmosphere of the Queen’s lair creates a rich tapestry of emotions that was unparalleled at the time. Speaking of atmosphere and dark elements, Snow White’s run through the dark forest remains one of the most surreal and terrifying moments in cinema.

Note: When this film was first released, theatre seats had to be cleaned or replaced due to the number of times children wet themselves in fear.

Then there is the film’s music, composed by Frank Churchill and Leigh Harline, which is another highlight with songs like “Heigh-Ho,” “Someday My Prince Will Come,” and “Whistle While You Work” not just catchy tunes but have become anthems of the Disney legacy. And while some may feel that they are repetitive and overly simplistic, teetering on the edge of being overly saccharine, I find they perfectly complement the visuals, enhancing the emotional impact of the story. They not only serve the narrative but also enhance the emotional depth of the story, making the film as much a musical as it is a visual feast.

 

The dwarfs really know how to throw a party.

But perhaps the most remarkable thing about Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is its timelessness. While certain aspects of the film reflect the sensibilities of its era, its themes of love, jealousy and the triumph of good over evil are universal, with the film speaking to the child in all of us, reminding us of the magic that can be found in the simplest of stories. And despite being over 80 years old it has lost none of its magic and is a film that transcends time, continuing to captivate and inspire new generations of viewers. As the film that started it all for Disney, it holds a special place in the annals of cinematic history—a timeless gem that will forever be cherished.