THE ABCS OF DEATH (2012): U is for Uneven

Horror anthologies are, I suppose, back in style after a hiatus.  I must admit I've got a soft spot for them, having been raised on the succinct, economical horror of EC Comics, their TV progeny "Tales from the Crypt," and the works of Freddie Francis like Dr. Terror's House of Horrors and Tales That Witness Madness.  V/H/S, a collection of several 20-minute video-shot fables from different directors, was a success, and has a sequel coming soon.  In the meantime, here is The ABCs of Death, an anthology of 26 short horror films of varying types of terror and varying quality.

The premise: 26 directors from around the world are each assigned a letter of the alphabet.  They each pick a word that starts with the letter as the basis for their films.  "A is for Apocalypse," "B is for Bigfoot," etc.  Each film runs about 4-5 minutes.

The results are middling, not the least because 26 different films in row are a lot to sit through.  Also, it's a lot harder to be truly scary in under 5 minutes; horror usually requires mood and patience.  That's why many of the films rely heavily on gore and shock value for effect.  A few of the films, like Banjong Pisanthanakun's (Shutter) very funny "N is for Nuptials," in which a parrot proves to be an unreliable ally in a man's proposal, would be better off without the Death requirement.  Simon Rumley's "P is for Pressure" is an interesting montage of poverty that's unfortunately punctuated with a moment of violence that doesn't quite fit.  Most disappointing is "M is for Miscarriage" by Ti West (The Innkeepers), who's one of the best horror filmmakers working, and whose submission here is a big nothing.

A few too many films choose sex as their focus; while sexual perversity is a tried-and-true theme of the horror genre, the films' affinity for the naughty bits grows tired very quickly.  Timo Tjahjanto's "L for Libido," the film that leaves the longest aftertaste, takes place in an underworld in which men are forced to masturbate while watching increasingly disturbing performances.  This sequence knows how to disgust, but isn't particularly necessary, or good.  Noboru Iguchi's "F is for Fart," about a lesbian relationship enhanced by intestinal distress, would have benefited from restraint (although "F for Fart" sounds like an amazing Orson Welles parody).  By the time we get to Bruno Fornazi and Helene Cattet's surreal, well-made "O is for Orgasm," we're sick of sex altogether.

A few of the films are superior and worth checking out a la carte.  Xavier Gens's (Frontiers) "X is for XXL" is one of the few to balance extreme gore with real emotion.  Jason Eisener's (Hobo with a Shotgun) "Y is for Youngbuck" is a memorable synth-music-driven story of images about a young boy who gets revenge on his molester.  Marcel Sarmiento's "D is for Dogfight," told entirely in slow motion, is a surprisingly moving story.  Lee Hardcastle's hilarious animated episode, "T is for Toilet," shows us the worst potty training imaginable.  Andrew Traucki's "G is for Gravity" is an effectively realistic first-person account.  The best overall is Kaare Andrews's "V is for Vagitus," set in a Robocop-like dystopian future; it's the one that most effectively fits into the format, though it's so intriguing that we wish it were longer.  Jon Schnapp's "W is for WTF" is an enjoyably wacko stream-of-consciousness journey into a creative mind gone mad.  And I'm perplexed as to what exactly is going on in Yoshihiro Nishimura's (Tokyo Gore Police) "Z is for Zetsumetsu (Extinction)," a mishmash of nuclear paranoia, Nazi imagery, phallic symbols, and infomercials, but it isn't boring.

** out of ****