“But you are responsible for the lives you’ve taken…for the dreams you’ve turned into nightmares.”
I want to get this out of the way first thing: I am in no way qualified to talk about the Black experience in America, nor will I pretend to be. I’m not going to talk about how Tales from the Hood metaphorizes the day-to-day lives of what it means to be Black in this country, because that would imply that I know what it means. I don’t. In that way, I feel like Tales from the Hood is meant for viewers like me, people of privilege who are waking up – some quickly, some slowly – to the fact that things have been horrible for so, so long. Tales is occasionally campy, occasionally silly, and the CGI looks shitty even by 1995 standards. But it still comes highly recommended for the reason I’m apt to recommend most horror movies: at times, this movie profoundly disturbed me.
We first meet Stack, Ball, and Bulldog on their way into a funeral home. The director there has discovered a cache of drugs and is going to sell it. The trio is rightly spooked, what with the organ music coming from inside and the sudden appearance of the funeral director, Mr. Simms (Clarence Williams III). On their way to get “the shit,” Simms tells the three men strange, unsettling stories about the bodies in the mortuary. Williams is terrific as Simms; it’s an unpredictable, live-wire performance, full of tics and mannerisms. If I had to compare Williams to any other actor, it would be Jeffrey Combs.
The first story, “Rogue Cop Revelation” (the titles of the entries lack for imagination), shows you exactly what you can expect from the film. A rookie cop is forced to stand by and watch as some veteran officers beat and then murder a civil rights activist. It’s a brutal, disquieting sequence, set to Billie Holliday’s “Strange Fruit.” A year later, the rookie starts hearing a voice in his head, telling him to deliver the murderers to the dead activist. Even when the story takes a turn for the supernatural (they all do), the sense of rage and indignation never leaves. I mean, the most racist of the murderous cops is named Strom Richmond, a clear reference to noted pieced of shit Strom Thurmond. Tales from the Hood is seldom subtle, but that works to its advantage.
“Boys do Get Bruised” is probably the weakest entry (although it does have the best title). The twist and the metaphor are a bit obvious, and the acting isn’t up to par with the rest of the film (child actors, you know). There are some killer practical effects on display, but the dialogue occasionally sticks out like a sore thumb (a man whose bones are broken to the point that he’s basically a puddle probably wouldn’t spend his strength to say “This ain’t over, bitch!”). There’s a nicely villainous turn from David Ogden Stiers, which is probably the most remarkable thing about it.
“KKK Comeuppance” is as nasty as the title implies. Corbin Bernsen stares as a gubernatorial candidate named Duke (again, not subtle), who rails against affirmative action and has set up shop in an infamous plantation home. Bernsen really commits to the awfulness of his character, even employing the classic logic of “I never personally owned slaves, so I have nothing to feel guilty over.” When he is attacked, literally and metaphorically, by the ghosts of slaves, it’s as cathartic as Tales from the Hood gets.
“Hard-Core Convert” might be the best entry, although at first it seems like the weakest. Stick with it. It’s blaxploitation by way of giallo, by way of A Clockwork Orange. A gangster convicted of murder is given the option of early release, provided he completes a radical form of behavioral therapy. He’s forced to watch a soul-crushing montage, juxtaposing gang violence with lynchings and cross burnings. “Hard-Core Convert” makes a powerful statement about Black-on-Black violence, no more so than in a genuinely gut-wrenching scene in which our hero’s Nazi neighbor points out just how alike they are, in deeds if not ideologies.
The ending doesn’t completely work, but it’s not enough to undo the film as a whole. Tales from the Hood is unexpectedly powerful: dark, angry, cynical and almost nihilistic. I can only imagine what a pip bomb this must have felt like in 1995 theaters. The saddest, scariest thing about the movie is that it’s still relevant, all these years later.
Thursday, 10/1: Phantasm
Friday, 10/2: Frozen
Saturday, 10/3: Suspiria
Sunday, 10/4: Suspiria (2018)
Monday, 10/5: Emelie
Tuesday, 10/6: Castle Freak
Wednesday, 10/7: Session 9
Thursday, 10/8: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2
Friday, 10/9: We Are Still Here
Saturday, 10/10: The Changeling
Sunday, 10/11: The Bad Seed
Monday, 10/12: Verotika
Tuesday, 10/13: The Legend of Hell House
Wednesday, 10/14: Lake Mungo
Thursday, 10/15: Puppetmaster
Friday, 10/16: Marrowbone
Saturday, 10/17: A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master
Sunday, 10/18: Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers
Monday, 10/19: Sweetheart
Tuesday, 10/20: Girl On the Third Floor
Wednesday, 10/21: Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon
Thursday, 10/22: Triangle
Friday, 10/23: Dog Soldiers
Saturday, 10/24: Noroi: The Curse
Sunday, 10/25: Train to Busan
Monday, 10/26: Tales From the Hood
Tuesday, 10/27: Mandy
Wednesday, 10/28: Sometimes They Come Back
Thursday, 10/29: Veronica
Friday, 10/30: The Wicker Man
Saturday, 10/31: Child’s Play
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