Director: Ryan Spindell
Writer: Ryan Spindell
Cast: Clancy Brown, Caitlin Custer, and a ton more
I love anthology films. They give an opportunity for directors and writers with all kinds of techniques to come together and showcase their skills on a single platform. As much as I love seeing different styles in one film, I’m an even bigger sucker for the element that ties them all together. I believe that what can make or break an anthology is what it does in between each segment. If you’re left remembering that after the credits roll, then you’ve got a good one on your hands. Think about it. When you think of Creepshow, Tales from the Crypt, or even The Twilight Zone you’ll think of your favorite story from either one, but not before seeing The Creep, Cryptkeeper, or Rod Serling respectively in the forefront of your mind. It is a difficult feat, creating a memorable character that can successfully carry the weight of multiple stories, but I really like Montgomery Dark and his telling of stories within The Mortuary Collection.
When the very cynical Sam (Caitlin Custer) visits a funeral home with the intention of applying for a job, she meets Montgomery Dark (Clancy Brown), the home’s director, who—by Sam’s request—shares stories of the people who have come to lay on his embalming table. Each story, as seemingly unique as the last, all share a common bond that feed Dark’s message to his applicant: your sins have dire consequences. What each of them don’t know, is that there’s more to the visit than either of them thought.
From the very first scene there’s a thick layer of nostalgia laid onto this film, and it stays there the entire time. It has this feeling of a matured Are You Afraid of the Dark meets Tales from the Crypt that makes you want to turn off all the lights and get comfy the way you did back in the 90s at the end of SNICK or late at night when the Cryptkeeper was waiting for you after your parents went to bed (we all did it). In The Mortuary Collection, we have Montgomery Dark, the funeral director who tells us stories of how the people he’s worked on met their fate. He’s a tall, wrinkled up man with a strong sense of pride in his work and a sense of humor about himself. Clancy Brown did a wonderful job at bringing this character to life. Aside from the aforementioned traits, he brought a sense of menace to Dark that echoed The Tall Man from the Phantasm movies that I really enjoyed. The passion Dark had for the stories he told were a perfect foil for Sam’s cynicism, as she repeatedly had something to say about each one. The more we get to watch the back-and-forth between them (the movie practically reviews itself) the more it becomes evident that their relationship mirrors that of artists and critics, with the critic eventually switching sides…That doesn’t sound at all familiar.
The thing that sets this anthology apart from most is the fact that there’s one singular writer/director, and each story—while standing alone just fine—share a look that gives a visual layer to their connection. Writer/Director Ryan Spindell started light with a bright and vast color palette that resembled something close to a Wes Anderson aesthetic without sacrificing the darkness that horror calls for, and ends at the last story with muted, nearly pitch black tones—a visual descent into darkness that you’d be more than happy to take. That gradual dimming matched the overall tones beautifully. Generally, this film doesn’t take itself too seriously—another one of its charming qualities—and it shows more at the beginning and as each story becomes darker in their aesthetic, it does so in their tone. Towards the end, the characters feel more, they stop making you laugh and start making you scream. All of this, without ever sacrificing its disturbing absurdity that thinly shrouds poignance—and when I say thinly, I mean you can see right through the sheet. Not that it matters. This movie is so much fun to watch that I don’t even care how transparent its layers are. Once you get to the climax, you see just how necessary that transparency is. Typically, I hate spoon fed messages, but in this case, you’re given a message with unabashed intention then told it’s much more than that. Suddenly the movie about consequence is a movie about storytelling, which was a brave move. How awful would it have been if the movie about storytelling was bad at telling stories? I thought it was a big risk that paid off.
I’ve seen many horror anthology films that don’t tell stories that work together the way The Mortuary Collection does. It’s got so much going for it: an unmistakable message for each story, absurd and disturbing content, and a storyteller that brings me back to an age when this format was at its peak. In my book, Montgomery Dark can join the likes of Cryptkeeper, The Creep, The Midnight Society, Rod Serling, and all of our favorites in presenting twisted tales to teach us lessons as well as keep us up at night.
The Mortuary Collection is available to stream on Shudder.