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Evil Hides in Plain Sight on Halloween Night in ‘Satan’s Little Helper’ [Formative Fears]

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Formative Fears is a column that explores how horror scared us from an early age, or how the genre contextualizes youthful phobias and trauma. From memories of things that went bump in the night, to adolescent anxieties made real through the use of monsters and mayhem, this series expresses what it felt like to be a frightened child – and what still scares us well into adulthood.

As summer fades and leaves change colors, both the young and young at heart start to anticipate Halloween. October inevitably becomes a month of horror movie marathons, macabre décor, and other seasonal routines that honor ol’ Samhain. As for the child at the center of Jeff Lieberman’s Satan’s Little Helper, he’s found a new and unique way of celebrating the holiday. This year will be one that neither he nor his family will ever forget so long as they’re alive – and based on what lies ahead in this dastardly tale of horror, they might not even make it to next Halloween.

Ten-year-old Dougie Whooly (Alexander Brickel), who’s wearing a homemade devil costume crafted by his eccentric mother Merrill (Amanda Plummer), has been reunited with his sister Jenna (Katheryn Winnick); she’s returned home from college to spend Halloween night with her brother. The unexpected arrival of Jenna’s new boyfriend Alex (Stephen Graham) causes a disappointed Dougie to then wander off and mistakenly team up with a murderer. Due to the boy’s fixation with “Satan’s Little Helper” – a crude video game characterized by simulated violence at the behest of the player’s eponymous master – he innocently believes the stranger’s heinous crimes are nothing more than make-believe. In time, Dougie’s new friendship puts those around him as well as everyone else they encounter in immediate peril.

From an early age, we’re taught the distinct difference between good and bad, and adults often use religion to illustrate this point. When young Dougie asks his mother early on if Satan really exists, Merrill nervously answers: “For man, Satan represents evil, and evil occurs here and everywhere in the whole world. And so, in that sense, Satan does exist, except that he doesn’t look like anything; he doesn’t go running around with horns and a tail.” Dougie is immediately disappointed because he idolizes Satan – or rather, the notional version of him as depicted in his favorite video game – but his mother quickly adds, “Unless, of course, he’s wearing a costume.” It’s possible Dougie wasn’t raised to be God-fearing, so his obsession with a game about Jesus and the Devil could be his roundabout way of understanding something he didn’t grow up with. Nonetheless, Mrs. Whooly’s diplomatic explanation about evil leaves room for generous interpretation, as viewers soon see.

As far as movie siblings go, Dougie and Jenna get along quite well. It’s also obvious the Whoolys are very close – maybe too close – and have never cared much for personal space or orthodox parent-child and sibling relationships. Before he and his mother pick Jenna up at the ferry slip, Dougie earnestly proclaims he’s going to marry his sister. This is when Merrill jests about the school not having yet taught third graders about incest, which Dougie mishears as “sex.” Upon meeting Alex for the first time, Merrill jokingly says of her son’s negative reaction, “He’s had his heart set on marrying [Jenna]; now [Alex is] his competition.” Once at home, the family’s dynamics come out in full force: Merrill loans her daughter her old “Renaissance slut” outfit for Halloween that draws attention to Jenna’s chest, or “boomies,” as Dougie likes to call them. As visibly uncomfortable as Jenna is about her costume at first (“I can’t believe my own mother’s trying to turn me into a whore), she succumbs to the image’s allure and releases her inner “lusty wench.” As a result of having a free-spirited mother like Merrill, it’s understandable if Jenna is more conservative about her appearance and behavior. In a way, her being so uninhibited for once in her life is why she doesn’t catch on to the killer’s incognito act even sooner. It’s not until Jenna returns to her former self – practical and objective – does she realize what’s really happening and how she’s the only one who can stop it.

Jenna may come off as more sensible and modest due to her mother’s occasional bohemianism, but Dougie is entirely impressionable and far too trusting. Halloween already has a certain way of removing our natural wariness of strangers, and unlike other major holidays where people stick close to home, Halloween is a chance for stepping outside comfort zones. Dougie, with the hazy wisdom his mother shared earlier about evil, ventures outside his own safe space, unchaperoned, and immediately befriends a masked killer. Now, this isn’t a simple case of parental neglect or a sermon on the ill effects of violent video games. There is no concrete answer as to why Dougie aids “Satan” in his quest for mayhem other than the questionable fact that he thought the guy was merely role playing a game character. To say Dougie isn’t remotely prepared for the real world is a massive understatement.

Moral panic about stranger danger has not only been a source of inspiration for many classic horror movies, it defined an entire generation’s childhood. Given Dougie’s disposition, audiences have to wonder if he or Jenna were ever instilled with the same basic rules of safety that keep others alive. Dougie hails from a picturesque and naïve New England town where Halloween is observed by the masses; the residents are so immersed in the day that they don’t even realize a spree killer is among them, hacking neighbors up and displaying their corpses like festive decorations. Lieberman made a point of having “Satan” be a flesh-and-blood person wearing a mask rather than an actual monster mistaken for someone in costume. His murderous activity doesn’t set off any alarms because the town’s universal enthusiasm about Halloween is far too potent. “Satan” hangs an old lady on her front porch as well as viciously slays a cat in broad daylight; passerbys either think these are elaborate gags, or they ask to take a photo. All of this speaks to our fear of evil hiding in plain sight on top of the concern that people have become desensitized, maybe even less motivated to stop the bad things they see happening every day.

While the “Satan” seen in the movie isn’t the real thing, his influence over the town is authentic. From the moment his presence is detected, an insidious force moves throughout the movie and affects everyone. Jenna’s boyfriend Alex has his own childhood scars, physical and emotional ones, that keep him from visiting his abusive father who he later suspects to be the killer. Then there’s the notable public chaos that ensues in “Satan” and Dougie’s wake; the police station is set on fire, and the other residents gradually become more disorderly as the film progresses. “Satan” has come to town and everyone’s souls are in danger.

Jeff Lieberman went all out with Satan’s Little Helper. As weird and oftentimes inappropriate as his most recent movie is, it’s undeniably hard to forget even for those who can’t see past the low-budget aesthetic and don’t eye the film’s scattered and subversive charms. Lieberman conically illustrates evil and its pull in storybook America; he uses a child to propose honest questions about the presence of something wicked in familiar surroundings. Ultimately, this unseemly coming-of-age story is about a boy celebrating a holiday that so many of us once enjoyed or still do. And the threat of it being undone or taken away by an uncontrollable force isn’t lost on anyone, especially these days.

There are greater worries at stake in the world, but for a ten-year-old boy like Dougie, the thought of no more Halloweens and no one to spend them with anymore, is pretty scary.

Paul Lê is a Texas-based, Tomato approved critic at Bloody Disgusting, Dread Central, and Tales from the Paulside.

Editorials

What’s Wrong with My Baby!? Larry Cohen’s ‘It’s Alive’ at 50

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Netflix It's Alive

Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.

Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.

Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.

It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.

At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.

It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.

As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.

Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.

Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.

Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.

I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.

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