The House of Little Fears

A series of seemingly unrelated events in the same suburban homestead opens a demonic portal, unleashing pint-sized demons looking to gank some humans. They’re not hunting for sport though; they’re looking to summon their Antediluvian god to enslave mankind so they can rule the earth once again. Three young heroes stand between us and oblivion: pre-teens Glen and Terry and Glen’s big sister Al.

The Gate is pure Little Fears. You could run this as an episode without changing a thing, it’s that good. You have random freakiness, hostile teens, some only-in-the-80s lore, and a great batch of monsters whose final means of disposal is a textbook example of the subtler power of Belief. There are some surprising moments as well dealing with parental loss, friendship, the death of a beloved pet, and brother-sister bonding.

Dated though some of the effects may be, The Gate holds up very well. I’m interested to see what stays and what goes when the remake is finished but no matter what the new version does, the original will remain a classic.

Trust me on this.

In 1693 Salem, three sisters plan to live forever by using a spell that steals the life force from children. While successful, they are soon rounded up and hanged but not before head witch-sister Winnie gets off a final gotcha: Should a virgin ever light their black flame candle, the three sisters will live again–if only for a night. Fast forward 300 years later, where California ex-pat, reluctant older brother, and—yes—virgin, Max is having some trouble fitting into his new home in Massachusetts. Unfortunately, Max ends up bringing back those three sisters putting his sister’s life and the rest of the town’s children in danger as the three sisters attempt to cast their spell again, ensuring they’ll live forever.

Yes, this is a family-friendly comedy but it is overflowing with cool stuff to pilfer for your own Little Fears Nightmare Edition games. First off are the sisters who are perfect out of the box for a lighthearted episode but could easily be darkened a bit if you want something more horrific. C’mon, family film though this may be, they are out to kill children. In addition, you have a kid who has been transformed into a cat, a reanimated corpse, a quasi-sentient book (complete with an eyeball inset on the cover) and three great character types (even if Max and his love interest are older than LF characters. Bump them down to 11 or 12 year olds and you’re golden). Anyone who has ever played a strong-willed young girl in an LF game should take notes from Thora Birch’s 8-year old Dani. Absolutely fantastic.

If you’re dismissive of this film as episode fodder, I understand, but I urge you to put your skepticism aside and check it out.

I had been meaning to watch this movie for years. I remember seeing previews of it on HBO as far back as the 80s and I was intrigued by this strange bearded man with tattoos of children on his hand. But I never sat down and watched it until last night.

Y’know, it’s pretty good.

Adapted by Ray Bradbury himself (with whom I share a birthday), the film differs greatly from the book in some regards but it’s all still rich and meaty fodder for your own Little Fears Nightmare Edition episodes. In the film, two young boys struggle with parental issues while idling in a small American town, bored and making trouble for want of something better to do. The midnight arrival of a carnival train is too intriguing to pass up and the boys are soon drawn into the magic of the place. What they don’t know is that the carnival preys on the wants and dreams of those who visit its strange attractions. What the carnival giveth, the carnival taketh away.

Carnivals, supernatural or not, are classic settings for horror with their twisting mazes, varied oddities, and general sense of dread, danger, and beauty. They have the distinction of being places that draw you to them while making you aware of how much an outsider you are. An apt description of how adult life must seem to a child, I’d say.

The carnival’s proprietor, the delightfully named Mr. Dark, brims with quiet creepiness. Mr. Dark, along with the conniving rousty Mr. Cooger and the exotic and dangerous Dust Witch, run the carnival and pose the primary threat. Any of them alone would make a great bad guy but together they form a trifecta of brilliant monsters.

Something Wicked This Way Comes is a rare film that pulls you into its story with pitch-perfect pacing and mood and walks you along its darkened tracks with as much charm as threat. While portions are dated now (it is 27 years old), Bradbury’s script holds up well and the two young leads give solid performances. Predictably, Jonathan Pryce’s Mr. Dark steals the show, the blueprint for cunning snakes everywhere.