Small Screen Screams! – TALES FROM THE CRYPT: “Dead Wait” (1991)

Though everyone here has done better work, the Crypt Keeper agrees: it’s “must-scream TV”!

We’ll start this one with a confession: A few years ago, I rewatched every single episode of TALES FROM THE CRYPT, and you know what? I realized I didn’t like it as much as I thought. 

I know you can only do so much with a story in 25 minutes, but the scripts seemed routinely  underdeveloped to the point it hamstrung most of the fun for me. Not only that, but I’m disappointed we never got a fun nickname for the Crypt Keeper. (C.K.? Cryptee? Keepie?) Warts and all, the series still barfed up a few frothy, bloody bon-bons that have since risen like clotted cream to the top of the body pit. 

First up is possibly the best thing Tobe Hooper did after POLTERGEIST (1982). I realize that sounds like I’m selling the Texas-born scaremaker short, but much like Argento and Romero, Hooper was living proof that what comes up must come back down again. Though his direction here isn’t exactly groundbreaking, he wrangles a surprisingly fine cast of principles, including James Remar, John-Rhys Davies, Vanity, and Whoopi Goldberg, fresh off her Oscar win for GHOST (1990). I mean, with that kinda lineup, how can you resist? 

Red Buckley (Remar) is just a small-time thug trying to prove his mettle. When he finds out a priceless black pearl is being hoarded by ailing plantation owner, Emil Duval (fucking hell, how many accents can Rhys-Davies do??), we know we’re in for double-crosses galore. Another thing Red’s interested in getting his hands on is Duval’s wife, blithely played by the ever-beautiful Vanity. Sorry, but it’s been over 40 years now and I’m still wondering what PURPLE RAIN would have been like had she stayed onboard. Anyway, all this sweaty intrigue is set against the noisy chaos of impending civil war, which always serves as a convenient–albeit desperate–way to inject urgency into a plot. A tinge of voodoo is thrown in when Goldberg puts herself in the middle of this fuckery as an enigmatic (or maybe just underwritten?) priestess who may or not want a cut of Red’s booty in exchange for a little spiritual protection. 

I won’t divulge much more, except that the intended highlight of the episode may as well come with a neon sign attached to it. TALES FROM THE CRYPT was never exactly subtle, so let’s just say it plays out much like a reality-TV adaption of the board game “Operation”. The whole thing unwinds in the gaudy, gory fashion HBO’s original programming became famous for in later years. (I’m looking at you, GAME OF THRONES!) 

Check your head at the door and you’ll find this thing flies by in roughly the same time it always took TALES FROM THE CRYPT to get through its opening credits. It’s quite possible the real reason I missed a lot of these episodes during their initial run is because I fell asleep before Keepie could pop his bony ass out of that frickin’ coffin and get this show on the road.

But hell, I’m willing to bet there’s nothing on cable tonight that’s as messy and trashy as “Dead Wait”, and even if there is, does it include an Oscar winner, that detective from DRUGSTORE COWBOY, the chick that used to bang Prince, and that beardy Welsh bloke who played both Sallah and Gimli the Dwarf?… I didn’t think so! 

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