Tales from the Hood

"This ain't no funeral parlor. This ain't the terrordome. Welcome to HELL mothaf*#%@!" In not too many words I want to express my respect for one of the most underrated horror movies of the 90s. Like The Twilight Zone it is a segmented film (although all directed by Rusty Cundieff) that spans across a good variety of horror genres. The real horrorshow here, though, is the domestic/racial issues against the black community. Cleverly (and without being preachy or offensive to white people), Cundieff disguised his agenda with rich characters and a bone chilling conclusion.

The HIGHPOINT of this movie for me is the film's proverbial ringleader- a funeral parlor director. The man, brilliantly and hilariously underplayed by a bug-eyed Clarence Williams III, finds a stack of drugs he wants to sell to three young hoods. As you watch you begin to wonder what eerie agenda he really has in store. These scenes tie all the vignettes together.

Also, the final segment is a very profound statement on gang violence (although beware, this is the preachiest segment). I like to call it A Clockwork Black because it applies Anthony Burgress's idea of reversing violence onto the offender onto a gang leader called Krazy K. Those K's in his name aren't a mistake either! Cundieff underlines a necessary argument about between black-on-black violence by comparing K to a neo nazi.

Like any memorable work of horror, Tales remembers to keep its monsters metaphorical. Police brutality, domestic violence, racial profiling, and gang violence are the most hideous creatures found here. I complement Rusty Cundieff on a job well done there. Excessive campiness and at-times generic camera work keep this from being great, but nothing stops its relevance in the genre.

STAR RATING: *** out of 4.

Very bizarre - just the way I like things! Ridiculous amount of profanity, cool horror & the editing is spot on. Not bad for a crazy a$$ African American flick, I don't mind these type occasionally.

An interesting, at times totally innovative take on the horror film genre. Three young black hoodlums go to a funeral home where a bizarre mortician (an eerie Williams) takes them on a tour and shares four terrifyingly twisted ghost stories. The first involving corrupt cops is routine and obvious; the second is a unique take on child abuse that is creative and fairly creepy; the third involving vengeful voodoo dolls is at times shocking, at times corny, but eerie and crafty in its own right; the fourth about gang violence and rehabilitation is highly imaginative and something to marvel at; the film's unique amalgam of horror and social commentary isn't always on target, but the special effects are convincing, and the performances rock solid, making this a fairly impressive showing for all those involved. **½

Not really scary of a movie, but this movie really did serve a good purpose. I noticed that the four stories in this movie touched on four topics in today's society: Domestic Violence(David Alan Grier, Brandon Hammond, Paul Jai Parker, Rusty Cundieff), Police Brutality(Anthony Griffith, Tom Wright, Michael Massee), Racism(Corbin Bernsen, Art Evans, Roger Guenveur Smith) and Black-on-black crime(Lamont Bentley, Joe Torry, De'Aundre Bonds, Samuel Monroe Jr., Ricky Harris). There is basically a message in all of them but the 4th story in this film was probably the best one. Not an unpredictable movie but not at all bad, and the ending was fantastic as well...

Tales From the Hood, another horror anthology film dripping with EC comics-style ghoulishness, strings together four stories told by a wild-haired, macabre funeral director (Clarence Williams III) to a trio of gangbangers seeking their missing drug stash in a mortuary. Virtually all of the tales are familiar -- walking corpses and voodoo dolls are staples of the format -- but director Rusty Cundieff makes every effort to inject the proceedings with social morality. Child abuse, racism, and police brutality each get a pretty heavy-handed treatment, but the last story, involving a voluntary "behavior modification" technique for an unrepentant killer (ala A Clockwork Orange) explodes off the screen. In the film's most powerful sequence, Cundieff serves up a quickly cut montage of unsettling images culled from a number of state historical archives depicting vicious, stomach-churning lynchings meant to deter the rapacious young killer from wanting to harm any more people. It's potent stuff, and makes one wish the rest of the film had this kind of intensity.