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Welcome to Revenge of the Remakes, where columnist Matt Donato takes us on a journey through the world of horror remakes. We all complain about Hollywood’s lack of originality whenever studios announce new remakes, reboots, and reimaginings, but the reality? Far more positive examples of refurbished classics and updated legacies exist than you’re willing to remember (or admit). The good, the bad, the unnecessary – Matt’s recounting them all.
I am so exhausted by complaints about how the 2000s horror era was a wasteland of unoriginality and recycled cash-ins. We’ll save the post-9/11 “torture porn” discussions for another column (or when relevant here). My frustration stems from the idea that remakes were the bane of horror cinema for almost a decade. You know this, you’re here every month riding shotgun on this journalistic adventure. I mean, how can you watch Steve Beck’s Thir13en Ghosts and whine about studios rehashing older titles for a second go-around like they’re creatively bankrupt?
It wasn’t long ago that Revenge of the Remakes glommed onto The Blob, which is appropriate since Thir13en Ghosts shares similar “remake reasoning” in terms of justification (for those who need that). William Castle’s 13 Ghosts dates back to 1960, and the Dark Castle reinvigoration lands more than forty years later. Technological advancement alone brings enough validation to the table, given decades of cinematic evolution as commonplace as colorized projections. As horror fans already know, the American-Canadian aughts classic—yes, CLASSIC—challenges audiences not only through its nightmarish Black Zodiac roster but an extravagant desire to honor Robb White’s core screenplay while embracing the fiesta that is differentiation.
So crank the nu-metal, kiddies—it’s time to relive one of my favorite horror titles from the 2000s.
The Approach
The starkest distinction between 1960’s 13 Ghosts and 2001’s Thir13en Ghosts (besides that exxxtreme number inclusion in the title) is the personality of the titular ghosts. William Castle commands more of a funhouse atmosphere where mustachioed supernatural chefs hurl plates like playful poltergeists, where Steve Beck oversees a roster of wayward souls who only comprehend the calming effect of grotesque violence. The death of J.R. Bourne’s estate manager so early in Thir13en Ghosts is a tremendous contrast to Martin Milner’s Benjamin Rush, who becomes the “surprise” villain in 13 Ghosts. Writers Neal Marshall Stevens and Richard D’Ovidio adapt an original tale about greed overshadowing spectral curiosity and generate the haunted house vibes we’d expect via spiritual threats—no doubt influenced by 2001’s ability to sell the ghastliest of tormented ghouls.
Enter Tony Shalhoub as Arthur Kriticos, the remake’s patriarch who inherits his deceased uncle Cyrus Kriticos’ (F. Murray Abraham) elaborate glassy complex. Daughter Kathy (Shannon Elizabeth), son Bobby (Alec Roberts), and nanny Maggie (Rah Digga) are given a tour by Cyrus’ lawyer Ben Moss (J.R. Bourne) of this labyrinthian manor that almost resembles a functioning contraption on a massive scale. Psychic Dennis Rafkin (Matthew Lillard) sneaks into the house with a pair of Cyrus’ ghost-seeing specs and is horrified to discover all the nastiest souls they collected together are contained in the basement—until Mr. Money-Hungry Lawyer unwittingly sets them all free. Thus begins Arthur’s quest to save his family, avoid the Black Zodiac prisoners, and prevent Cyrus’ whirring, reorganizing trap of a homestead from opening an eye into Hell.
All the hallmarks of 13 Ghosts exist. Cyrus Kriticos is the Dr. Plato Zorba role, cheekily referencing Castle’s protagonist, Cyrus Zorba (Donald Woods). An estranged uncle bequeaths his homemade abattoir to an unsuspecting nephew whose poverty-stricken family becomes sacrificial inhabitants unaware of a grander ritualistic scheme. Both adolescent boys—Buck (Charles Herbert) in the ‘60s iteration—harbor an obsession with death, although Buck is more of a conduit where Bobby can be seen as a scampering victim. Buck uses the special ghost-seeing glasses to interact with floaters on a friendly level, watching headless lion tamers put on a show, while the ‘01 version drenches audiences in a constant state of unrest. Castle operates within his generational constraints to support the film’s earthly evils—Beck slices to the core of fear, still retaining that human folly but adhering to stricter, far bleaker usages of unquiet souls.
Does It Work?
Does The Angry Princess enjoy crimson tub soaks? I’m going to channel The Blob once again because both remakes succeed on similar grounds. The tethers that connect 13 Ghosts and Thir13en Ghosts are thinner than piano wire and yet hold stronger than chain links. General horror fans might not even know William Castle’s 13 Ghosts exists—or at the least have no nostalgia for the property—which permits Neal Marshall Stevens and Richard D’Ovidio a bit more freedom for original twists. There’s never a ripoff or shot-for-shot snicker. Go ahead and compare the film’s opening sequences, one a museum chat about the La Brea Tar Pits, the other a junkyard massacre with a liquid transport truck spewing blood and a magical containment unit.
One might assume going the gnarlier, more macabre horror route in 2001’s reanimation might dull the moral intrigue at stake. Steve Beck’s Black Zodiac is a lineup of monsters all primed for personalized spin-offs versus the more modestly costumed apparitions inserted via early photo-overlay filmmaker tricks. The fear is that mean mugs and destructive appetites might distract from Arthur’s familial gauntlet—tying his late wife to the Black Zodiac—but core development still centers around man’s obsession with a replaceable “something.” Money. Power. It’s all the same whether that’s Benjamin’s sleuthing for Plato’s fortune (and willingness to crush Buck in a collapsing bed device) or Cyrus’ fake-out in an attempt to see the past, present, and future using his Latin-inscribed facility. The degrees to which both frighteners lash out are on opposite spectrums, but the ending remains the same as in 2001’s finale—Cyrus’ afterlife hostages are freed from their purgatorial torment.
The addition of Arthur’s marital tragedy treads dangerously overdramatic waters, but the power of the ‘00s endures. It’s a vibe still influenced by the Wild West that is ‘90s horror with a bit more reverence. There’s a sincerity to Arthur’s movin’ on up into Cyrus’ upgraded lifestyle, but also a commitment to the graveyard maniacs that impatiently wait within. Better yet, Thir13en Ghosts understands what horror fans want and provides by any means necessary. Danger remains paramount as the invisible inmates escape their asylum walls, and locked eyes with any of Cyrus’ subjects requires immediate panic. One might lament the lack of bite in 13 Ghosts, which Thir13en Ghosts rectifies out the gate while achieving the grandest levels of scream-in-your-seat enjoyment.
The Result
I mean, Thir13en Ghosts rips or slaps or whatever the newest internet lingo might say. From the opening shot, it’s like the ripcord on a chainsaw is revved, and the gas tank never empties (ignore electric models for this metaphor). It’s what I’d describe as comfort horror not because I ever feel safe, but more because whenever I’m in the mood for some boilerplate, dictionary definition horror, Thir13en Ghosts is that stability selection. Production design goes above and beyond to ensure you feel as trapped as doomed characters. Practical effects demonstrate why flesh-and-prosthetics monsters will always be superior to animated pixels. Thir13en Ghosts is a big-budget, high-concept horror blockbuster that leaves a lasting impression. Unfortunately, its tragic $68m gross on a $42m budget is a legitimate failure of the horror community (and push towards studios striving for lower budgets with higher rewards).
Should we be surprised Greg Nicotero and Robert Kurtzman brought Thir13en Ghosts to life (er, back from the dead)? The Black Zodiac features creations that mark the pinnacle of what makeup artists and special effects warehouses had to offer at the time (and still hold up stupendously). I think of The Hammer with railroad spikes puncturing beefy biceps or The Torso, played by Daniel Wesley, a double amputee. It’s no exaggeration to dub The Angry Princess iconic with her full-frontal gashes or The Jackal legendary with his beastly savagery and that broken cage over his head as a useless precaution. Thir13en Ghosts is a showcase for cosmetic applications in the horror genre and feeds off each ghost’s presence in the same way horror fans appreciate kitchen-sink approaches like Cabin In The Woods. The Black Zodiac is some Hall of Fame composition, along with Ben Moss’ sliding-door demise where he’s halved side-to-side. The howl I let out every time Ben’s front half slips to reveal his exposed insides as the back follows shortly after is a distinct pleasure.
If you’re not into Matthew Lillard playing a smartass psychic ghost-hunter who despises jump scares despite constantly putting the see-all glasses on right in front of ghosties, I have questions. There are absolutely some quintessential ‘00s horror performances between rapper Rah Digga as the “oh hell no” nanny or Shannon Elizabeth’s older sister routine. Still, they fit within the tonality of Steve Beck’s direction. A world where discarded automobiles devour Cyrus’ lackeys like they’re eating a snack or quicksilver flares repel dead-but-furious attackers tearing fathers to shreds with berzerker abandon. So is it a peculiar choice to end the film on Digga’s character muttering jokes about babysitting not being worth her night in a madman’s graveyard zoo? I thought so until I watched 13 Ghosts go out with a wink as the haggard caretaker grabs a broom to all but confirm she’s an actual witch.
The Lesson
Stop doubting 2000s horror! We get stuck in the generalization that everything was either another futile attempt at banking on existing IPs or another Saw ripoff. Were there countless? No argument. Does that mean an entire class of horror films like Thir13en Ghosts, Stay Alive, and House On Haunted Hill (close enough) are unceremoniously lumped in as well? Every damn time. Steve Beck handles Thir13en Ghosts as a remake with a clean slate, ushering old-school horror into a new millennium with infinitely more malice but the same focus on mortal ugliness. The ghosts, after all, are just prisoners of Cyrus—aka the John Hammond of Neal Marshall Stevens and Richard D’Ovidio’s narrative.
Oh, did I not get into my rant about how Thir13en Ghosts is pretty much Jurassic Park? I’ll save that bite for another month or a Twitter thread.
What did we learn?
- The more time that passes, the more remakes can assert themselves.
- If you have Greg Nicotero working in your effects department, you’re on the right path.
- The characterization of monsters is just as crucial as your heroes and anti-heroes.
- We’re never going to forget the Black Zodiac.
- The best remakes are viewed as tributes that eventually veer down unique explorations or further enrich existing story bones.
The more I cover 2000s horror remakes, the more I’m furious over the snobbish disregard around opinions of this era’s genre output. Thir13en Ghosts is one of those titles I slam into my Blu-ray player whenever someone makes the mistake of admitting it’s a blind spot, with no fault to the new viewer. Critics and audiences turned their back on horror in the 2000s, and now’s the time for a reclamation. Start by celebrating the ones that deserve your apologies most, like Thir13en Ghosts.