This Ain’t No Funeral Home: Horror Anthology ‘Tales from the Hood’ Turns 25

Sometimes the most enduring entries in horror failed to set the box office on fire upon initial release, only finding their audience after and amassing a more significant following over the years. Such is the case with horror anthology Tales from the Hood, which arrived in theaters on May 24, 1995 to a mixed reception and lackluster ticket sales, though it did earn back its production budget. Twenty-five years later, Tales from the Hood is regarded among the best horror anthologies, in no small part because it withstands the test of time. The perfect blend of horror, comedy, and social commentary all tied together in cohesion with an unforgettable wraparound, Tales from the Hood delivered a groundbreaking anthology worth celebrating.

Co-written by Darin Scott (From a Whisper to a Scream) and director Rusty Cundieff, Tales features four stories of urban terror told by an eccentric funeral home owner to the trio of drug dealers that arrive looking for a score. While the segments take on different topical themes and tones, the recurring thread among them all is that humanity proves the ultimate evildoers, whereas the supernatural offers redemption and retribution.

The first tale that Mr. Simms, played by the scene-stealing Clarence Williams III, tells Stack (Joe Torry), Ball (De’Aundre Bonds) and Bulldog (Samuel Monroe Jr.) draws inspiration from the 1991 incident of police brutality against Rodney King. Here, a rookie cop opts to say silent when he witnesses seasoned officers brutalize, murder, and frame a well-regarded political activist. That activist rises from the dead and enacts vengeance on all that participated, including the rookie. The rookie may not have actively participated in the murder, but that doesn’t make him any less culpable.

The second segment features a tale of domestic abuse, with comedic actor David Alan Grier playing against type as the ruthless, abusive stepdad. Cundieff plays the caring school teacher Richard, who oversteps his bounds and furthers the wrath of the “monster.” In the third story, Corbin Bernsen once again nails the sleazy villain role as a racist politician who doesn’t seem to understand (or care) why the public finds him offensive.

The final segment borrows from A Clockwork Orange as it sees a violent, murderous gang member undergo experimental torture and conditioning in an attempt to rehabilitate. It ties directly into the overarching wraparound- the gang member wastes his chance for redemption and is transported back to the moment he was shot just before the arrest. Those gunmen are Stack, Ball, and Bulldog. This entire journey was their chance to see the error of their ways.

Mr. Simms, who up until this point delighted with comedic line delivery, drops his facade. “This ain’t no funeral home! It ain’t the Terror Dome, neither! Welcome to Hell, motherfuckers!” He bellows as he reveals himself to be Satan, and the funeral home falls away to an engulfing inferno.

That each segment tackles different themes with varying tones, yet all feel part of a larger whole, makes this a compelling anthology. Of course, that’s by design. Scott, no stranger to horror anthologies, drew from Amicus anthologies like Tales from the Crypt, in which every aspect contributed to one central story involving comeuppance. Cundieff wasn’t interested in creating a horror movie purely for the sake of entertainment, though; he wanted the film to have something worthwhile to say. That resulted in a horror anthology that’s unsubtle about its commentary, but one that doesn’t feel preachy. It’s on the nose, yet still a ton of fun.

The special effects enhance these stories, which isn’t much of a surprise at all considering the talent behind them. The gruesome contorted body of the abusive stepdad was the brainchild of Screaming Mad George, a special effects artist with a reputation for the surreal and weird. He also designed the look of Mr. Simms’s Satanic form, drawing inspiration from cancerous tumors. The dolls of segment three were designed by the Chiodo Brothers. For the most part, these practical effects hold up well in a modern HD setting. The effects that don’t still manage to contribute to the movie’s overall charm.

Cundieff and Scott may have pulled from current events at the time when penning this script, but over two decades later, the themes those events inspired still feel timely. Police brutality, domestic abuse, culpability, racism, unsavory politicians, and unrepentant crime don’t seem to have diminished with time. That these stories still feel relevant today, but are balanced with levity and supernatural horror, makes for a more accessible, enduring film. Further solidifying its ascending reputation as a cult horror classic is the brilliant casting. Every single segment is packed to the brim with talented actors, many of them cleverly playing against type. Clinching it all together is the scene-stealing portrayal of Mr. Simms by Clarence Williams III – I dare you not to laugh any time he says “the shit.”

Perhaps it was the theatrical trailers, which played up the comedic element too much, that played a role in the film’s lackluster theatrical run. The comedy is prevalent, but so is the horror, both reality-based and supernatural. All of which to say, that Tales from the Hood is far more accomplished and well rounded than the initial marketing let on, setting the film up to find its audience after it’d left theaters. Moreover, it opened up the possibilities in genre filmmaking, in terms of utilizing marginalized voices to tell socially relevant stories while maintaining the terror-filled status quo of horror.

source https://bloody-disgusting.com/editorials/3617371/aint-no-funeral-home-horror-anthology-tales-hood-turns-25-may-24/