Unseen Terror 2013: Day 30

A young couple, actor Guy Woodhouse and his wife Rosemary, move into a new apartment building in New York City, and are soon welcomed by their new elderly, but kindly neighbors nearby. Not long afterwards, Rosemary discovers that she has become pregnant, albeit under very unusual circumstances. In the next few months, Rosemary's health begins to deteriorate, and as everyone surrounding her acts increasingly more eccentric and oblivious to her obvious troubles, she develops suspicions and fears about the safety of her unborn child.


Jesus, not even one minute in and I'm already beyond creeped out by Rosemary's Baby's opening theme. And yes, before you unleash a shitstorm of epic proportions upon me, I had never seen the film that is arguably Roman Polanski's most famous to date, and the second of his "Apartment Trilogy," with the first being Repulsion and the third being The Tenant. I am a deprived, odd horror fan. I suppose that I blame this on my personal dislike of the man as a human being, but I can't deny his skills as a director after watching this landmark.


When you really break this film down, it is essentially watching the dissection and mental torture of one individual, witnessing as they are systematically forced into isolation and a new life against their will for a running time of two hours that surprisingly doesn't even feel like two hours. And by god, it works tremendously well here due to some top-notch directing and tremendous performances (Mia Farrow not winning, or even being nominated for an Academy Award was an absolute shame), not to mention the incredible mood Polanski manages to set almost from the very beginning frames. I haven't felt this disoriented and turned off by a group of New York residents since I first watched Taxi Driver. She and John Cassavetes do feel a bit dated by "hollywood movie couple" standards, but it really is fascinating to see the completely opposite directions both head in over the course of the film, as he slowly loses his soul while she retains her humanity through thick and thin, and while being cut off from nearly everything helpful imaginable. Ruth Gordon as the obnoxious neighbor that essentially turns into a cancer nearly steals the show though. I can't recall detesting a character on this year's blogothon any more, outside of perhaps those redneck comic reliefs in The Crater Lake Monster.


Speaking of Mia Farrow, how Rosemary's Baby's infamous rape-dream sequence wouldn't traumatize someone is beyond me. Even for a film that's over forty years old, it is still quite creepy and remarkably unsettling. Farrow's helplessness during most of it just makes it so much worse, making the audience contemplate what is truly real and what is being fabricated in the individual's mind. But as greatly filmed and acted as the movie is, its own legacy does kind of hurt any potential surprises, as they've been copied or been hugely influenced by the events in this story. Mind you, some of these have wielded very positive results (The House of the Devil) or films on the "mixed opinion" side of things (The Lords of Salem). This does not hurt the finished product AT ALL, but the final reveals aren't especially surprising if you're more well-versed in the genre, but have somehow passed over this movie like I had.


Honestly, is there even a point to discussing anything further about this picture? Everyone regards it as a masterpiece for a reason after all, even outside of the horror genre. And thank whatever deity that does or does not exist that a proposed 2008 remake didn't come to be, especially considering that it was going to produced by Michael Bay of all people. The idea that the man behind Transformers was going to produce something with the name Rosemary's Baby attached to it makes me want to retch, but it was killed almost as soon as it was announced. That false scare aside, go watch the film if you haven't already. Don't wait like I did. All of them witches will thank you.



Tomorrow, we sadly bring an end to this year's iteration of Unseen Terror, but we'll attempt to go out rocking with TRICK OR TREAT!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 29

In the year 2040, a massive starship known as the "Event Horizon" vanished on its maiden voyage to a star, and was thought to be lost to the world. Seven years later, a distress call is sent out...from the once-thought lost ship, which has seemingly returned from a black hole. The crew of a rescue vessel, nicknamed the "Lewis and Clark," set out along with the chief designer of the former starship in order to answer the call, and discover that the "Event Horizon" may not have come back alone.


I'm not shy about expressing my disappointment when it comes to the man known as Paul William Scott (or "W.S.") Anderson. The English action/science fiction/horror movie director helmed one of my favorite dumb films growing up in Mortal Kombat, which I still defend as one of the better video game adaptations to date, and boasted one of the very best soundtracks of the mid-90s, exposing me to many sub-genres of heavy music that I had never heard before. But after that, it was a quick downward spiral for the man, as the quality in his films worsened, and he just floundered in assorted video game and comic book adaptations that broke, stomped, and then defecated upon my poor heart. Defenders of his post-Kombat work would frequently ask me one question though: had I seen Event Horizon? Well, no, I had not. But, thanks to this wonderful time of year, now I have. And I may have to apologize about my previous beliefs: for as imperfect as it may be, this, and not Mortal Kombat, may have been the last glimpse of potential talent the man may have once possessed.

Anderson and casting director Alex Wald picked arguably their most prolific batch of names to work on this project, with Sam Neill (Jurassic Park, The Piano) and Laurence Fishburne (The Matrix, Boyz n The Hood) to serve as our main protagonists respectively. They're easily the most well-rounded of the characters, but that's only because everyone else is rather lazily thought out, or is given no background whatsoever, coming across like drawn out and dreaded "red shirts" that could give the cast members from the current season of The Walking Dead a run for their money. I did like seeing Sean Pertwee (Dog Soldiers, Equilibrium) pop up as a crew member of the "Lewis & Clark" ship, even if he does tend to have a small case of Jason Statham syndrome, in that he'll end up playing near-duplicates of the same character every time out. I don't think anyone will argue that Paul W.S. Anderson has never been an "acting" director though, as despite boasting a fairly decent cast, nobody really delivers commendable jobs (or even looks animated) until arguably the final twenty or thirty minutes when the "shit hits the fan," so to say. There's an indication that everyone may be losing their minds and has to be potentially fallible, but nobody is especially convincing save for perhaps one individual who I won't spoil.


When Event Horizon's real plot begins to unravel over the course of its running time, it does make for some admittedly interesting twists and turns, but seems more intent on hypnotizing you with its visual appeal and cinematography than anything else. Admittedly, that is fairly nice to look at, especially given who we're talking about here, but so much of it seems lifted from superior pictures, even if you don't recognize it while watching the first time around. Upon first glance, one thinks we're in for a knockoff of Ridley Scott's Alien or heaven forbid, a ripoff of a Roger Corman science fiction picture. Thankfully, neither of these comes to fruition, and instead I came away feeling as if I'd sat through an uncommon mixture of The Shining meets House, except obviously stuck in the deepest reaches of outer space and with less memorable characters. I also realized just how much 2009's Pandorum borrowed from this motion picture, to the point where I'm actually disgusted that Anderson himself produced that pile of feces.


Even with the apparent and quite obvious flaws, I'd be curious to revisit this in several years, especially if what Paul W.S. Anderson says is true about an extended cut existing out there somewhere. Supposedly, it includes thirty minutes of extra footage and a rather heavy amount of additional violence, which was so severe and off-putting that it initially garnered an NC-17 rating, which as anybody knows is a kiss of death in Hollywood for any director trying to make a decent profit. As nice as that would be, the violence did seem rushed into the end just to please the horror fans like myself. And while the man could be talking out of his own posterior, like he did when he made me believe that Alien vs Predator was going to be a good picture, I have at least one eyebrow raised high in this situation. So I say bring it on.



Tomorrow, we're nearing the end, but travel far back to give birth to ROSEMARY'S BABY!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 28

Horror novelist Roger Cobb has been dealing with a plethora of troubles as of late. For starters, he is recently separated, his son has disappeared without a trace, and just recently, his Aunt Elizabeth has committed suicide. Under pressure to write a followup to his latest novel, the Vietnam veteran decides to move into his recently deceased Aunt's house, hoping to write a novel about his past horrors, cleansing his soul and clearing his mind. But soon after moving in, strange happenings begin to occur, and Cobb begins to believe that this house may resent his very presence.


Once you recognize that Steve Miner, the man who has worked on the first three successful and popular entries in the Friday the 13th saga (and subsequently directed the latter two) is the director behind 1986's House, a quite bizarre, but surprisingly amusing take on the haunted house formula, you're almost ensured a good time (Sean S. Cunningham, director of the first entry in that franchise, would also produce this picture). Unlike those particular features, it obviously isn't a bloodbath or anything resembling a slasher, but it does have that same sort of tongue-in-cheek fun you would see quite a bit of that year and in years to come. Later in 1986, Miner would also serve as a second unit director on the very under-appreciated Night of the Creeps, which also shares the same storywriter as House in Fred Dekker.

I have to commend House from the very start for its casting, because it sure was nice to see William Katt in something that reminds us of his once-promising talent, instead of the garbage he would end up floundering about in, such as a particular killer fish film remake released in 1995 and Asylum knockoffs you can buy as cheap coasters. Earlier in the month, I had completely forgotten to mention his portrayal as Tommy Ross in my original review for Carrie, but as good as he can be when he's playing it straight, he's also got a good knack for slapstick if the project calls for it, and Roger Cobb seems to be a good mixture of about eighty percent seriousness and twenty percent comedy, though most of it shows up in the final third of the reel. His vietnam flashback sequences weren't quite as convincing however, coming across far more comical than I'm sure they were meant to be, even in a film that's generally considered a horror-comedy by most of its fans.


The supporting cast is a mixed bag for the most part. George Wendt of Cheers fame shows up to play the obnoxious, but lovable neighbor, portraying the character with a sort of blissful ignorance that almost delves into potential helpfulness that I couldn't help but sort of love. There's a tiny subplot involving former Miss World titleholder Mary Stavin (who if I can add was pretty gorgeous) and her forcing Roger to babysit her kid for one night, which felt wholly unnecessary and felt like it led to nothing, other than some cool creature costumes. If there's one thing I'm discovering that I have true distaste for in horror cinema, it is the "child in peril" subplot that is just there to be there. What I do not hate, however, are some of the fun visual and prop gags scattered throughout the house that continually mentally torture Roger, including a very odd sequence involving a swordfish. I know some more jaded students of today's horror community will dismiss these as looking quite archaic though, and I can't really disagree with them, even if it didn't bother me in the slightest.

So that's pretty much House in a nutshell. Far from perfect, but still a really good time. There are some good visuals, a good story, and some funny bits of dialogue, making for a fine way to kill an half and a half. The biggest question that will come to your mind will the same one that came to mine: "How does one go about with making THREE sequels to a picture like this?" Perhaps I'll find out next year, but we're getting ready to wrap up this year's iteration of Unseen Terror anyway, and I'll need a good week or so away from reviews just to give my eyes and hands a break before I even start contemplating such a thing.



Tomorrow, we jump forward into the 1990s yet again, with the much beloved (or is it?) EVENT HORIZON!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 27

When a meteorite crash lands on earth, an unknown alien species is unleashed upon the land. Manifesting itself and growing in the basement of a nearby townhouse, the breed begins to feed on anything and anyone that will dare to cross its path, all the while reproducing asexually at an alarming rate and spreading its seed around the neighborhood. Soon, it may be up to the house's initial inhabitants to put a stop to this extraterrestrial reign of terror before it devours everything in sight.


Boasting the smallest budget of any film on this year's countdown, The Deadly Spawn's budget is a meager twenty five thousand dollars, which isn't just doable for most folks with the right amount of connections and friends, but is really low by ANY decade's standards, much less the early 80s. Perhaps the bigger surprise to be found is just how entertaining the final product turns out to be, especially if you have a great respect for the art of "DIY" filmmaking.


Similar to what some Italian efforts were doing in the wake of the horror explosion post-Jaws and post-Alien, The Deadly Spawn's original title was changed over in some circles to Return of the Aliens: The Deadly Spawn in order to capitalize on the success of Ridley Scott's aforementioned film, which was released several years beforehand. Other than boasting a threat from outer space and a whole lot of caucasians in the cast, the comparisons should end there though. For one thing, the designs on both creatures are obviously, radically different. Considering that this isn't H.R. Giger's work, the alien design here is fairly awesome, a horrifying, massive maw that seemingly boasts no eyes with one gigantic appetite, and can even spawn smaller, slug-like beings that slither around infesting and feasting on whatever they can find. It moves around like a slasher movie icon, but disgustingly consuming rather than cutting and tearing its victims.

There are two brothers to follow as our protagonists throughout the plot, and yes, their stories do connect with one another down the road. There's Pete, the older of the two and arguably the more awkward of the siblings. He's a serviceable, wannabe scientist-type, but not much more. From what I've read, most fans of this film seem to identify more with Charlie, the younger of the brothers, as he's usually the embodiment of every kind of kid you either grew up with, or even grew up as in the decade of decadence, given that his room is littered with old horror movie posters and toys, and he's a self-professed devotee of the genres that I love. Heck, he's even got the same Godzilla action figure that I STILL have to this day, and I can provide photographic evidence to prove this if need be!


I know a few friends in town who have aspirations of becoming directors, be they of documentaries, or full-length pictures, and because of the apparent "do it yourself" attitude and work found throughout The Deadly Spawn, I am more than happy to give the picture a good recommendation. As macabre and grotesque as it is for those not accustomed to films in its field (and make no mistake, the gore is very top notch for its budget), Douglas McKeown's lone motion picture effort can be a bit inspiring for future filmmakers, showing that you don't need the backing of a large company or an abnormal amount of money in order to make something that is instantly memorable or just plain cool. Paramount really dropped the ball not picking this up for distribution.



Tomorrow, we jump forward a few years and find ourselves stuck in HOUSE!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 26

When the men and women of the small town of Pebbles Court begin to receive doses and pills for a new "supplement" pill in the mail, they take it with no qualms and objections. Nicknamed "Vimuville," the pill has been produced in order to produce a better breed of human beings. There are, however, side effects and different "stages" for the subject . The first, is hallucinations. The second, is potential organ failure. The third, is deterioration and deformation of the body.


Within literally ten seconds, I see that Australia's Body Melt is distributed by "Dumb Films," and if that doesn't set the tone for the remaining eighty minutes to come, then I can assure you that nothing will. I'm also subtly reminded that I need to desperately expand my "Ozploitation," or in layman's terms, Australian exploitation, motion picture repertoire. So far, I can recall seeing this and the very underrated killer boar picture Razorback, but not much else beyond that. This needs to change within the next year or two.


There's a very satirical edge to this film, be it in the focus on perfectionism with the "pill" that causes the eventual title effect, or the very odd side plot with two dopey young men encountering a small group of inbreds and essentially running into the story of a different type of horror film. As fun as it is, there isn't a great deal of plot beyond some scattershot stuff here and there. In fact, I don't really believe our "protagonists" were even given much in the way of backgrounds, and with the fact things are structured, you could make the argument that it feels like a collection of shorts pieced together based around one subject rather than one, coherent, cohesive story.


Viewers with a fear of decay or a fear of needles will naturally steer clear based on this title alone, but even for those with cast iron stomachs, the content found throughout certainly doesn't help matters. Even with its modestly low budget, some of the ways that people are dispatched of in Body Melt could give Peter Jackson's earliest works like Bad Taste and Braindead a run for their money in the department of disgusting, with the filmmakers' admiration for the man being very apparent. But, you do have to suffer through a fairly nonsensical plot (for what one there is) and a lot of boredom in order to get there, and unlike Jackson's works, the humor inserted and shot into the film just isn't that strong. The best bits are provided by the very off-putting family of inbreds mentioned above, but their entire side story feels like it wasn't even necessary in the end. In fact, most of the decisions for placement of humor, for as little as it is used, and the heavy emphasis on blood and guts and not much more, makes the movie come across like a group of blood-hungry fanatics making something for the sake of having a "gore fest" under their belts. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I get the feeling that if these folks could have predicted the future and foreseen something such as Youtube coming about, this would have made a killing there, such as the "Le Bagman" short from all those years ago because it was "so nasty," but for nothing else.


Lastly, Body Melt could house the most inappropriate soundtrack I've ever heard in my entire life, with an absolutely absurd mixture of techno and early to mid 90s-era instrumental alternative rock. Writer/Director Philip Brophy is lucky that juggernauts U2 are presumably not horror movie fans, as nearly everything in the latter category sounds directly ripped from their early 1990s works, and they most likely would have flipped out and tried to sue someone. True, this probably could have helped the movie turn into a box office monster, but still. In the end, I'm not entirely sure what to make of this one. There is some great, repugnant gore to be found here, especially considering the budget, but not much beyond that. It's worth a watch, but nobody would blame you for actually giving into temptation and just "skipping to the best parts."



Tomorrow (or today), we're keeping it messy with THE DEADLY SPAWN!

Unseen Terror: Day 25

Well, the curse of the internet strikes yet again, as unfortunately the router AND modem of yours truly has been on the fritz over the past day or two, though thankfully some access has been recovered due to the help of a much more technologically-sound friend. Thus, yesterday and today's entries will most likely be up within twelve to fifteen hours from one another, as I was unable to even view day twenty-five's movie yesterday whatsoever until this very morning. Anyway, let's move along.

Successful mall Park Plaza has installed a new security system, including shutters scattered throughout  and across all exits. It also includes three high-tech, non-threatening security robots that will disable and subdue thieves and intruders if trouble should arise. One night, when four couples decide to spend the night in the mall after it closes down, lightning strikes the plaza, heavily damaging the circuits of the robots. The couples find themselves trapped, being pursued by the now-murderous creations, and must utilize what they can in order to survive the night.


Jim Wynorski is a pretty well known celebrity in the world of exploitation and horror cinema. The man has worked with the Corman family quite a few times throughout his career (Roger's wife Julie produces this effort), though you could make the argument that his second picture, Chopping Mall, was his biggest success since he's gone on to make a lot of real garbage, like Ghoulies IV and Raptor, the Piranha 95 of the Carnosaur franchise. He's also the man behind some fine cinematic porn parodies such as The Bare Wench Project and Para-Knockers Activity (I KNEW there had to be a decent parody of that franchise out there!), so.......there's that for you.


After starting up Chopping Mall, my first thought was that I was wondering if Wynorski was intending to make this as a horror-comedy, because this was a clear case of forgetting to pack in any genuine scares or suspense. Not that this is a bad thing of course, since I still love to have great fun. My second thought was "Hey, there's Kelli Maroney from Night of the Comet! And cult movie queen Mary Woronov!" Unfortunately, the latter only shows up for a small cameo as her character from Eating Raoul, something I keep meaning to check out one of these days. Everyone else is fairly fun too, and Barbara Crampton of Re-Animator fame even shows up to show off her....talents. The kills range in quality, from the surprisingly gory to the shockingly tame, but as I've pointed out before with other movies from this year's list, it may have been a little hard to compete with certain slasher pictures that were out at the time. There's also a pretty stupendous synth-based soundtrack that can grate at times, but comes with the territory of 1980s schlockfests.


Chopping Mall's originally released title was Killbots, despite the term never being uttered a single time in the entire picture. Its initial box office intake was poor, most likely due to this exact reason, or due to the fact that people watched the TV spots and trailers and most likely thought it was going to be incredibly dumb, which isn't far from the truth. When it was re-released on home video under its new title, it understandably gained a cult following, and has its now fairly infamous following. Plus, how can you go wrong with those enticing posters, as somewhat misleading as they might be? By no means is this a masterpiece, but you can get some kicks out of this cheesy, ridiculous piece of 80s horror goodness.


"Thank you, have a nice day."



Tomorrow (or even, today), we jump forward a decade and dip into BODY MELT!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 24

Today will mark the last entry featuring what you could constitute as a "modern" horror film (i.e. released within the last ten or fifteen years), and boy howdy am I glad, since I was starting to miss the good times and cheesiness of the decade that I was born in. Director-wise, The ABCs Of Death is one of the largest groups I've seen assembled on this blog, with an ambitious idea of gathering twenty-six different men and women to direct different shorts and segments, each based around a different letter of the alphabet that was assigned to them. Hence, why I don't have a plot synopsis typed above, since there is none to found here. Not a single story connects with one another, though some do share similar themes and styles.

Therein lies the problem with this "movie" though, since it may have been better served as something other than an actual film. For every story that intrigued, amused, or even shocked me, there were about five or six that just didn't, and it feels akin to a two hour-long roller coaster ride in terms of horror anthology enjoyment. Producer Ant Timpson did a great job of rounding up as many people from different parts of the world as he could, including directors from America like Ti West (House of the Devil) and Adam Wingard (V/H/S, You're Next), France's Xavier Gens (Frontier(s)), Japan's Yudai Yamaguchi (Meatball Machine) and Noboru Iguchi (The Machine Girl), and a myriad of mostly unknown Spanish and latino directors. The quality of these actual shorts varies in a way that some feel like they could be stretched out into actual short films, while others feel phoned in to the point where you wonder if the directors felt as if they sent their segments in as a way to get the producers to leave them alone (Ti West's barely minute-long segment feels similar to a page he ripped from a script he never finished).

I know this isn't an entirely original concept either, and as I've brought up before (at least I believe I have), Showtime's Masters of Horror was very similar to The ABCs of Death. If that name doesn't ring a bell, let me refresh your memory. Created by director Mick Garris, 2006's Master of Horror was an anthology series that aired for two seasons on the Showtime network, and featured a wide array of directors in the field, with a large amount of them being pretty darn famous. I know Magnet Releasing most likely can't afford to get someone like John Carpenter or John Landis to come in and work on a short here, but every single short "film" that aired in Horror, even the bad ones, had something to remember, and it gave you room to breathe by making you wait another week for the next installment. Death's segments just occur, flash the title with a "directed by" at the end, and immediately transition into the next one. It gets to be tiring and repetitive entirely too quickly, ultimately making you just want to guess what the letter is going to stand for, and not in a fun way, but in a "would you hurry up?" kind of way.

Inconsistency in quality really hurt my overall enjoyment of The ABCs Of Death, which was a real shame since I still want to applaud this concept. But next time, perhaps making this a series of online-only shorts (no way this makes Youtube due to the nudity) would best serve the creators and cause less frustration among fans. With this decision, you gain the ability to skip past the fluff and at least revisit the memorable moments you did enjoy without having to revisit any meandering or flat out boring segments. Hell, I know that I'd love to rewatch the segments from Noboru Iguchi, Banjong Pisanthanakun, and Angela Bettis again without having to suffer through what precedes them. Supposedly, there's a sequel being worked on at the moment, with at least one pair of directors confirmed, those being the Soska Sisters of American Mary fame. They seem enthused enough about the project, so in the case of the producers, hopefully it will be a case of learning from your mistakes, or at the very least, the shorts themselves don't have the bad-to-good ratio of 6:1 as seen here.

Tomorrow, we're back to the 1980s and stuck in CHOPPING MALL!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 23

A vampiric outbreak has ravaged the world, leaving humanity on its last legs and struggling to survive. After his own family is horrifically slaughtered, a boy known simply as "Martin" is saved by an experienced hunter simply named "Mister," who takes him under his wing and begins to train him. Driving him across the lands of this broken down and depleted America, the two set out in hopes of reaching the idyllic New Eden, where purportedly they can begin a new life.


If you've ever imagined what would happen if Cormac McCarthy's The Road would have been like had it been littered and mixed with the best atmospheric parts from Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead and a dash of John Carpenter's Vampires, perhaps I've found the next film you should be watching on your Netflix queue. And most surprisingly, for the most frugal of fans, which makes up a large portion of my own personal friends list, it isn't a foreign production either.


For a film about vampires, we come to find out that there may exist far worse things in this collapsed and mysterious world than the beings that suck your blood and turn you into a monster, as evidenced by the fanatical Jebedia Loven, leader of a group of religious devotees known as the Brotherhood, played here excellently by Broadway actor Michael Cerveris. But don't even think twice about it: the vampires in Stake Land are still absolute monsters, and this is how they should be portrayed. While I don't mind the old "romantic" take on vampires seen in the old days and multiple tales, I've been more partial to their depiction as mean, insane, and bloodthirsty creations who will feast on even infants in order to survive (as seen here on more than one occasion). I'll also have to make it a habit to incorporate the term "Scamp," a term for a younger person turned into such a creature, into my horror vocabulary. Perhaps my only complaint about any of the villainy seen throughout lies in the sound department, which sadly recycles sound effects from pig squeals and generic monster growls for the vampires, but that could be the only legitimate problem I had other than minor squabbles, and perhaps that was due to time restrictions and budget limitations.


Casting-wise, as I hinted at above, everybody nailed their parts, and the characters actually aren't as cliched as you may think they could be in a field or genre that's been admittedly played out. Nick Damici's "Mister" might remind you of Tallahassee from Zombieland, except he's played with a much more serious manner and with a more fatherly figure tone. Damici also happened to co-write the film, and it seems that he knew he had to make viewers want to root for this character while not making him an alienating dickhead either. I'd also like to see more from Connor Paolo, whose "Martin" was great to see grow over the course of the film, and provided an unexpected narration that was very uncommon for a film such as this. True, the reliance upon this borders on turning into an overdose of exposition, but it knows when to stop at just the right times. This isn't just a boys club, however, as along the way, they run into some other faces like modern-day "Scream Queen" Danielle Harris (Halloween 4 & 5, The Wild Thornberrys, Hatchet II) and Kelly McGillis (Top Gun), in which the latter even came out of retirement in order to play her role! Pretty darn cool if you ask me.


It's an incredible shame that Stake Land hasn't gained a more massive following, or wasn't released to a wider audience, thus rendering it into the realm of the mostly unknown. As it stands right now, the film cost around four million dollars to make, but hasn't even grossed forty thousand, even based on a limited run in theaters back in 2010 and good word of mouth from critics like Roger Ebert (R.I.P.). It has the makings of an independent or midnight movie classic, and is arguably one of the best American-made vampire films in years, and my personal favorite film involving the bloodsuckers since Let the Right One In. I don't usually rank the films that I view from Unseen Terror, but if such a thing was done, this one will have to make a theoretical top five or top ten based on uniqueness alone. I'd be happy to purchase a copy on home video, solely to give director Jim Mickle and writer/star Nick Damici a few extra dollars towards any future projects they may want to do.



Tomorrow, we're back into the realm of anthologies with THE ABCs OF DEATH!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 22

While camping out in the forests of Oklahoma, young couple Seth and Polly find themselves the victims of a kidnapping and carjacking. The kidnappers, convict Dennis and his addict girlfriend Lacey, instruct them to drive the roads, until they hit a small, splinter-covered animal and receive a flat tire. After changing tires, the couples stop at a nearby gas station, but find the attendant ravaged and infected from an unknown symptom similar to the animal seen in the road, and soon find the station being overrun by a strain of a new, parasitic being that could infect and kill them all.


In my days of working at Hollywood Video, I acquired many "blind buys" for a rather insignificant amount of money. While a large portion of these pictures have turned out for the better, there are still a handful that have sat on my DVD shelf collecting dust for no reason other than I keep forgetting to watch them. Splinter was one of those such titles, and has even been passed over for the previous two years of Unseen Terror. Five years seems like a better time than never to finally brush that dust away though.


While I was aware that Splinter didn't boast a very large cast to begin with, I wasn't wise to the fact that it had a couple of familiar faces in it. Charles Baker (Breaking Bad) has a very brief role in the beginning, and Jill Wagner, who I'm still convinced needs more work despite Blade: The TV Series being canceled after one season, is in the lead female role. I honestly didn't recognize Paulo Costanzo of Road Trip fame, who seemed to age about fifteen years in only eight, and who was probably the weakest link in the film despite being the lead actor. Shea Whigham (Boardwalk Empire) plays a much more entertaining, and all around interesting character with at least some sort of backstory, as played out as it might end up being. As far as his character's significant other goes, I can't say that I've ever heard much about Rachel Kerbs, but I'm in no particular hurry to watch her play a junkie again anytime soon.


The film isn't shy about wearing its influences on its sleeve either. If you're wondering if that synopsis described above sounds vaguely familiar, I can assure you that it mercifully doesn't play out like a carbon copy of said picture...not that there's anything wrong with that. There are also subtle nods to pictures like Evil Dead 2 later in the film's second half, mostly in the effects department, which to my knowledge was done with nearly all practical work. Speaking of the practical work, it looks fine for what we see of it, but the camerawork here is so incredibly inconsistent, that you can never focus on any of the beauty of the creator's visions, made all the more shameful when you view the special features on the DVD (for which there are a lot) and see an actual gallery of the mutations and monsters included in the picture. Splinter's beasts look fairly twisted, like a combination of something from John Carpenter's The Thing and something vomited up from Silent Hill, but when you give us approximately two or three milliseconds to even glance at them before jumping back and forth, it borders on the irritating, and descends into the territory of disappointing.


In the end, I think Splinter wants to believe it is better than it actually is, but that doesn't make it a terrible film or anything akin to it. Trust me, I've seen some truly terrible films this year, and when I say I'd watch this over either of yesterday's entries, I sincerely mean that with all of my heart and soul. There are some solid practical effects, an interesting story, some pretty decent gore (a mighty fine scene involving amputation, a knife, and a cinder block should please even the most hardcore of purists), and the whole thing clocks in at around eighty minutes. Not a terrible way to spend five dollars, is it? Or was it three? Whatever the case, I'm sure Magnolia Pictures wouldn't charge you a great deal for this nowadays.



Tomorrow, we're still stuck on sliver removal with STAKE LAND!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 21

Before I start today's entries, I'd like to briefly talk about a video cassette that holds a special place in my heart: Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies.

While visiting the Smithsonian Institution one day with my parents, I received this trailer compilation as a gift, mostly due to my (then) love of all things dinosaur-related, and my desire to become a paleontologist. Though this dream and desire has waned, it did expose me to so many genres and franchises that I ended up becoming nearly fanatical about, including Godzilla and the works of Ray Harryhausen and his brethren. There were some modern film trailers thrown in for good measure too, but my focus shifted towards the older institutions, such as Toho International and the like. Having seen nearly every film on that cassette (which I still own), however, I'm finally getting around to discovering some of these lost treasures via the internet. But after twenty-something odd years, should these have remained buried?

In the dark, mostly unexplored waters of Loch Ness, the gigantic, legendary creature known as Nessie has begun an increasing amount of attacks, mostly brought about due to the kidnapping of her egg. Some scientists will seek to exploit the creature and her unhatched offspring, while others discover a sunken Nazi plane at the bottom of Loch Ness. What connections do these have with the beast? And why does it seem that some are trying to cover it up?


Oh dear lord, I didn't expect this. Well, at least on a scale this preposterously awful. Not even six minutes in, and The Loch Ness Horror has already settled safely into Mystery Science Theater 3000 territory. How the fabulous and hilarious group of "riffers" didn't lampoon and review this film, even in the later seasons, I have no earthly idea. Is it too late to pay them to do it now?


Everyone in The Loch Ness Horror is speaking like Groundskeeper Willie teaching French in Elementary School. The Scottish stereotypes found throughout are just ridiculous, and these characters, be they American or Scottish, could be conceived and written with just an initial viewing of any number of action/horror film combinations. What ends up being significantly worse are the accents of the fellow Scottish countrymen and women themselves, which I'm sure director Larry Buchanan would try and convince you were authentic (well, if he were alive that is), but anyone with halfway decent hearing, or a brain not riddled by years of drug abuse and consuming paint chips could tell you that's a load of malarky. Buchanan was a self-proclaimed "schlockmeister," so bashing anything the man has made in his career could prove to be moot seeing as how he expected it to come with the territory.


But even by lesser movie standards, the Nessie prop used here looks like a total joke, especially since we only see her head and neck, and nothing more. While I understand that you have a limited budget, and were probably going off of the Loch Ness myth, where little has been seen, give us something more creative. She's also surprisingly non-threatening in appearance, especially past the hour mark when she stares down a young woman in a camper. The Loch Ness Horror's high point, if it has one, has Nessie turning into a slasher movie villain after her egg is stolen (or is presumed dead), so she basically turns into a gigantic Mrs. Voorhees, even attacking people at a camping site and at night in the waters. Coincidentally, this was released a year after the successful Friday the 13th. Yes, I did just compare The Loch Ness Monster to Friday the 13th. Deal with it.


On the plus side, the poster looks fairly wild and could draw in monster fanatics. And as idiotic as it might be, the film doesn't really get to be boring if you're surrounded by the right folks. Still, this is an insanely bad "D" film that wants to pretend it's a "B" movie, but a lot of alcohol (and I do mean a LOT) could potentially make this a fun experience. I wish you the best of luck trying to track down a halfway decent copy of this. Legally, Diplomat Video released it on VHS, but as far as a DVD release goes, I'm unsure that anything in terms of an actual official copy exists, outside of bootlegs that is. I viewed my version on Youtube, where you can clearly tell it was ripped from home video. Naturally, it didn't help increase the quality of the picture itself, but I digress.

When a meteor crashes into a lake one evening, a large, prehistoric creature is unearthed from the ensuing heat. It begins to devour every person that it comes into contact with, and soon, the town's sheriff decides to take action in order to stop it. Rounding up a group of paleontologists and scientists, they set out to put a stop to the archaic menace.


Unlike The Loch Ness Horror, this effort from Crown International Pictures, as tampered with as it may have been, does have an accompanying Rifftrax commentary out there for purchase, and boy do I wish I had known about that in advance. Without the aid of those gentlemen, I nearly fell asleep during this picture. For the love of Benji, this is one boring, horribly made mess.


To begin with, I think that even as a child, I could have told you that these scientists in the film were phonies, or just plain terribly written. The title monster is referred to as a dinosaur at several opportunities, and is even drawn as one on its poster seen above. This wouldn't be a problem, except that one quick glance gives away the fact that it is clearly a PLESIOSAUR, a reptile that lived a large portion of its life in the water and is a completely different creature altogether. These little discrepancies won't be a bother to anybody except for perhaps the geekiest of folks, but the film's scientists and paleontologists make these mistakes constantly, and I can't help my occasional fits of nerd rage, especially thanks to that little VHS tape I talked about near the top of today's review. Learning is fundamental ladies and germs.


The Crater Lake Monster is decently well known for its use of stop motion animation, a rarity at the time in 1977 since most companies were moving on to bigger and better pastures. Shockingly, the stop motion animation looks fairly acceptable considering that a man like Ray Harryhausen didn't have his hand in it, and there's an eerie similarity to the title creation from Q - The Winged Serpent in the facial department of the "monster" itself. Of course, it isn't any coincidence that both films share the same animation supervisor, the deceased David W. Allen. He would go on to work on a vast number of pictures of much better quality, including Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, Willow, and Puppet Master. The practical, non-animation shots of its mouth also looked fairly decent considering the budget was just under one hundred thousand dollars, but I kept wondering "why not use more of that?" Unless the prop was a pain in the neck to haul around and your crew was comprised of tiny children, this is straight unforgivable. Oh, I guess we had to fill that time with the fascinating characters instead, such as....hmm....well, let me get back to you on that.


I'm starting to ponder if both of these films should have been saved for next year, since they could have coincided with the release of Gareth Edwards' Godzilla relaunch, and my time could have been spent on something much more valuable, be it another film or even something like staring at a wall while I eat leftover pasta salad. In terms of what made for a worse experience, I'd say that belonged to The Crater Lake Monster, as it just fills in the gaps and time with so much nonsense and annoying characters (if you do not hate the two redneck comic relief characters, you hate no characters in any movie ever released), while absolutely nothing happens. The fact that this film has seen a Blu-Ray release over the past two years is shocking to me, as it wholeheartedly deserves its 2.7 rating from IMDb.



Tomorrow, I brush the dust away, and finally get around to checking out SPLINTER!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 20

Years ago, hopeful architect Frank Bannister's wife perishes in a car accident, and he develops the ability to communicate with the deceased. Frank initially uses these skills to work alongside of assorted spirits in order to make a quick dollar or two, as dishonest as it may be. However, when a series of murders start occurring around town, all caused by a ghost seemingly taking the form of the grim reaper, Frank is persuaded to investigate, in order to prevent it from completely eradicating the town's population of living AND deceased citizens.


Man, sometimes there are just the right times and the right pictures than can brighten your weekend, especially when it has been a rather physically rough one. Or rather, when the previous film you watched was directed by a slimy, disgusting pedophile, and you did everything in your power to try and forget it. Thank goodness for Peter Jackson. Five years before he delved into Middle-earth, but several years after he made arguably the bloodiest film of all time, Peter Jackson and his partner Fran Walsh made The Frighteners, a horror-comedy that was an unfortunate box office disappointment, but has gained a considerable following, much like all of Jackson's films that don't have abnormally large budgets. I've also been chastised throughout the years for not having seen it, but thanks to the usually reliable Netflix, that has changed.


There's a fairly extensive cast to be found in The Frighteners, from its obvious main draw Michael J. Fox, to horror staples like Dee Wallace Stone (Cujo, The Howling) and Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator), to a few faces who would go to be more than just faces in the crowd, like Jake Busey (Starship Troopers) and Chi McBride (Boston Public, Waiting...). There are even more that I could talk about, but I'd be here all day and all night, plus it would ruin the surprise. However, I feel that something has to be said about Jeffrey Combs' performance as a psychotic, obsessed FBI agent: I know that Peter Jackson must have an affinity for Re-Animator, as I'm certain that all of us horror fans do. But my goodness, I'm not sure what the man was going for here by casting Combs...at first. When he first comes on screen, you could swear he believes he's in another film entirely, perhaps even auditioning for a Troma picture. After becoming accustomed to his presence though, he just adds to the comic insanity and overall darkly, twisted nature of the project. Nearly every time the man opens his mouth, or interacts with Fox, the guy is chewing the scenery, but I'll be damned if he isn't making you smile just a tiny bit.


Makeup is handled by the always excellent Rick Baker, known for his work on more films than you can count, though some credits include An American Werewolf in London and The Howling. His work on Frank's cohort named "The Judge," a ghost played by Gomez Addams himself (John Astin from The Addams Family), looks particularly exceptional. Jackson's Weta Digital provided the visual effects work here, and they are actually fairly impressive, especially when you consider that they were still mostly in their infancy stage at this point (three years existence). I'd honestly prefer it to a lot of other entries I've had to sit through so far (I'm looking at you The Langoliers), though I'm not sure how well something like this would translate on a high definition disc, since I know the film was released on Blu-Ray and HD DVD.


It isn't surprising to see as to why The Frighteners underperformed sadly. The poster is very vague, a clear victim of very poor marketing (it tells you literally nothing about the movie, other than "ooh, scary!"), Peter Jackson wasn't a known commodity at the time, and even though I stated his star power above, Michael J. Fox may not have had the same "it" factor at the cineplex in the 1990s as he possessed back in the mid-80s. That last part could be a load of garbage, but after Back to the Future III, can you name a wildly successful AND acclaimed MJF film made in the 90s? I like the guy, but his tenure on Spin City was the biggest thing to his name when it comes to that particular decade. Whatever the reason, I'm glad that the film seems to have a good, sizable following, and I am ecstatic that I finally got around to catching it myself. For old time's sake, I would love nothing more than for Peter Jackson to go back and give us folks who grew up on (and can still appreciate) his horror-comedies another one for the record books. Maybe I sound greedy, but with Christmas coming up soon, I can never get too old to ask.




In preparation for The Frighteners (and due to having a very odd bit of scheduling today), I decided to stick with the overall tone of fun, and catch up with two half hour programs I had DVR'd, but almost forgotten to view.

No matter my thoughts of how The Simpsons has gone from being arguably the best animated show of all time, to becoming one of the most embarrassing animated shows on television, I always attempt to catch the newest iteration of Treehouse of Horror every year. This year's opening sequence, conceived by filmmaker Guillermo del Toro, is nothing short of spectacular, and without a doubt the best thing about the episode. The homages to decades of his own work, and the numerous works of assorted Universal Pictures horror creations, was a beautiful and outstanding work. But then the segments began, and I suppose that even the famed Treehouse of Horror isn't safe from the realm of mediocrity that The Simpsons has fallen into now. Each segment ends up being (mostly) a parody of The Cat in the Hat, The Thing With Two Heads, and Freaks respectively. While I did somewhat enjoy the last segment, it was more or less due to the previous entries in the episode being just plain average. A disappointment, but my expectations weren't very high to begin with. At least those first ten seasons are still readily available for purchase.

On the flip side, Pixar's newest television special, Toy Story of Terror, was a much more entertaining and satisfying program, even if it was very strange to see the gang return after the near-perfection and conclusion that was Toy Story 3. The plot revolves around the toys' new owners getting a flat tire and them finding themselves stuck in a roadside motel for the evening, where suddenly they start disappearing at an alarmingly quick rate. There are numerous nods to old time horror films (humorously pointed out by the character Mr. Prickle Pants, who I expect will see a spike in sales after this), and the new character of Combat Carl, who just might know a way out of this whole mess, was just plain hilarious (and voiced awesomely by Carl Weathers). I was also surprised they had a slight throwback to the claustrophobia suffered by Jessie in Toy Story 2, which I had admittedly forgotten all about. I hope this is released in some sort of compilation DVD/Blu-Ray down the line, or at least is aired again soon.




Tomorrow, we've got another busy day ahead, with some underwater monster action courtesy of THE LOCH NESS HORROR and CRATER LAKER MONSTER!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 19

Young Casey suffers from coulrophobia, a severe fear of clowns, and is constantly heckled by his older brothers for it. After their mother decides to travel out of town to visit relatives, the boys decide to visit the circus for a night of fun, where Casey is warned of impending danger by a fortune teller. While the boys are traveling home, three mental patients from a nearby asylum have escaped, and subsequently murder three clowns from the circus. Donning their makeup, costumes, and identities, the trio sets about to terrorize the young boys and make their night a living hell.

While I don't share the same universal hatred and fear for clowns that every other friend of mine seems to, I'm not too fond of them myself. I do recall a memorable summer spent in Ocean City, Maryland watching Stephen King's It with a friend, and having it scare the absolute crap out of me, but outside of that, their expressionless faces and demeanors never really perturbed me. Perhaps watching Doink the Clown wrestle for so long in the WWF nullified that. Still, this one did intrigue me. I like two thirds of Victor Salva's 2001 horror effort Jeepers Creepers, but was wondering why something didn't quite sit right with me the entire time I was watching this.

It was pretty clear that Salva wanted to make something that the younger or teenage market could get a kick out of, or at least be scared of, maybe in the same vein of films like the previously reviewed The Gate. This finished product doesn't entirely work though, due to the relatively flat performances from the three leads (which includes a debuting Sam Rockwell), and the fact that most of Clownhouse's scares feel more harassing in nature than like actual scares. Nothing really ends up happening once these mental patients decide to wear their makeup and clown suits, as there isn't even enough blood to fill up a gallon of milk, and the body count only ends up at a whopping count of two when all is said and done. How this was rated R, I have no earthly idea.

Ah, but then curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to venture to IMDB. As it turns out, Mr. Salva, as interesting as his resume might be (which also includes the 1995 film Powder), sexually abused the lead actor who played Casey in this film (Nathan Forest Winters). He served fifteen months of a three-year term and was released on parole, though Winters came forward again in 1996 after Powder was released, asking as to why Disney would pick up a film by a man like Salva. Since then, the director has had great difficulty finding work in Hollywood, save for the Jeepers Creepers films, which is understandable considering he is a fucking child molester. This unfortunate fact isn't easy to ignore upon viewing the first third of the movie either, given the repeated, unnecessary shots of two of the lead boy actors in the their underwear, or baring complete skin. My guess is that Salva thought Rockwell was "too old" for him at the time, the gross bastard. I felt like an utter pervert in need of several showers after I saw all of the these scenes, and reminding myself of the now-infamous story. You could have cut every single one of these shots out, and nothing of value would have been lost. 

Technically, Clownhouse isn't a bad movie whatsoever, as the camerawork is fine, the score isn't particular weak, and I've viewed far worse films this season, but that stench of pedophilia during its production is nearly impossible to clean off. It puts the ixnay on any potential, real recommendation, even for fans of "killer clown" films, especially since I said that nearly nothing happens throughout its running time. Well, outside of the defenestration of one clown, which is admittedly kind of cool. To companies like Shout Factory, who I'm sure have been receiving numerous requests to put films such as this out on Blu-Ray for future release (the DVD is out of print): don't pay any attention to this one, as Victor Salva doesn't deserve any.

Tomorrow, we're up a decade and getting a littler shakier with THE FRIGHTENERS!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 18

The product of a fundamentalist household, shy & quiet Carrie White discovers that she may nest telekinetic powers. While researching these suspicions, she is soon asked to the prom by a fellow classmate. Initially reluctant and suspicious of trickery, she agrees. What follows, however, is a night that nobody at Carrie's school of Bates High will ever forget...should they live to tell about it.


So Stephen King, we meet again. We've taken a brief intermission so that I may take a break and deal with some killer women and killer animals, but you inevitably found your way back into my countdown. True, your invention of the troubled teenager Carrie White is indeed a "killer woman," but only after having her period in the shower. Guess I have to write about her all over again then.


Oh! You're asking why I decided to copy and paste my synopsis for the review that I posted of Brian De Palma's adaptation of Carrie. Well, as late as it might be over here, I figured I'd give in to laziness, as the filmmakers behind 2013's version of Carrie decided to seemingly do the same by essentially remaking his version of the film, but of course, with minor adjustments in order to satiate the modern horror movie fan. Some aspects are understandable, like the addition of more modern music into the big prom night scene, but others, like Carrie's mother driving a car with a Jesus fish on the back and the infamous "plug it up!" scene being filmed on a camera phone by other students just felt ridiculous and lead to nothing down the line (more on those particular characters in the second paragraph). There's also a heavy abundance of CGI in Carrie's notorious prom bloodbath and its aftermath, which of course, is a poor exchange for practical work. After seeing the great practical work done in something like American Mary recently, or even the reboot of The Evil Dead, it baffles me that some creators still can't get the simplest of things right and make them look convincing.


Early critics, for what ones were able to gather the information they could, made the argument that this was supposed to be the breakout role for Chloe Moretz, though she's already arguably a star. Though she doesn't have the same haunting, awkward innocence that Sissy Spacek had, she does a more than commendable job as the title character, even if she doesn't physically look like the character. I know that I said my piece about Spacek's appearance in the original film, but Moretz before prom night and day of prom night look nearly identical, and it just isn't very convincing. These minor flaws are especially apparent when she goes on her "massacre," which just didn't make you fear her, but gave you the feeling that she was like a kid in a candy store, or worse yet, a member of the X-men, whereas Spacek's ghostly appearance is now one of the most recognized in all of cinema. Okay, I'll stop with the comparisons, or at least try my best to.


Gabriella Wilde plays a fairly decent Sue Snell, the only high schooler to ever show Carrie an ounce of sympathy throughout the story, but I couldn't say the same for the rest of her classmates, who are fairly flat or just plain forgettable for the roles they are playing (whoever they cast as Billy Nolan was absolutely abysmal). This brings me to the one thing I truly regret having to talk bad about: Julianne Moore. Have you ever witnessed a performance that just feels like someone is trying too hard to go for "crazy" when it should just come naturally? That is Julianne Moore's Margaret White, and it breaks my heart to see her turn in something so mediocre when you know she is a much more capable actress than this. I do love this woman, I truly do. She is rarely bad in anything she chooses (notice that I said rarely), and I know she was taking this role originally from Jodie Foster, which is ironically the second time she's done this from the woman in the horror field (the first being Hannibal). No matter the amount of times it has been done though, she borders on comical at points in Carrie and is a poor substitution for Piper Laurie, which is all the more bizarre when a considerably large amount of her behavior and mannerisms seems lifted from Laurie's own portrayal of the character.


After all is said and done, I think this will end up going into the pile of remakes or re-imaginings that muster mostly "meh"s from its viewers. While I can still give it small points for having things that are more faithful to the original source material, such as naming the gym teacher Miss Desjardin (something De Palma didn't do in his movie) and keeping a more faithful ending, there just isn't a large rhyme or reason for its existence, save for Moretz to have another starring vehicle under her belt, and you're much better off revisiting the more brilliant De Palma classic (unless you hate watching horror films made prior to the 1980s). Like the remakes of A Nightmare On Elm Street, Black Christmas, or Halloween, you can just pretend that this one doesn't exist. In fact, it would be for the best that we all just let the story of the Whites be laid to rest, and work on fixing and readapting some other Stephen King works for the big screen.



Tomorrow, we're taking a trip back to the 80s and into the CLOWNHOUSE!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 17

Left alone to herself for the evening, a popular high school girl decides to throw a slumber party sleepover for herself and her friends at the house. She even invites the new girl from school, who after hearing some catty talk about herself, declines the invitation. That night, after the girls arrive, an escaped murderer with an affinity for power drills makes his way to the neighborhood with bloodshed in mind, and the only hope for survival may come in the form of the new girl from high school.

You know, I was shocked with how far I've come with this year's marathon, but somehow I've yet to look at a single slasher film from any decade. That changed with a viewing of one of the lost relics from the 1980s, The Slumber Party Massacre. With the recent string of "Killer Women" and "female power" horror films I've been viewing over the past few days, you might be wondering how in the world something with a title such as this could be categorized under either of those. And I'll confess that outside of a script written by noted feminist author and writer Rita Mae Brown, it really can't. I think I'm just running out of gas.

Plot-wise, the film isn't exactly trying to break new grounds, but Brown's original intentions were for it to be a parody of the then-burgening slasher genre. Not surprisingly, the film's producers insisted the film be played as a straight horror film instead. Given this choice, it does make it somewhat uneven in the end, but you can still get a feel for the screenplay's original intentions, even amongst the oodles of sleaze. And I feel that I should mention the sleaze before I forget, because this film doesn't waste your time giving what you want and remarkably fast. I clocked the first shot of nudity at approximately two minutes in and the first kill at about four or five minutes in, if not less. Whether this was Brown's choice or the choice of director Amy Holden Jones (who went on to write Beethoven of all films), I have no idea.

The comedic parts were also necessary to keep it grounded and from being too routine (great gag involving a refrigerator), and the women themselves, as hard to distinguish as they can be at times, do have some charisma in the lead up to the inevitable title massacre. Even by slasher movie standards, some of their age discrepancies are noticeable though. Speaking of our slasher, his choice of weapon for a large portion of the film's running time (a criminally short seventy-seven minutes) is a power drill, which I will have to admit is fairly cool. I've always admired the "simple, but effective" ideology when it comes to the mindsets of killers in cinema, though I'd certainly say that this killer's mindset isn't exactly the most complicated, as it seems he just simply likes to murder pretty, young people. Slumber's gore isn't off the charts either, but given its original intentions, this wasn't about trying to set records in that book. If you want crazy gore in your slasher films, you can still view films like The Burning and the Friday the 13th films after all.

In the end, The Slumber Party Massacre is a fun time if you're into these type of pictures, but those not crazy about slasher cinema might want to stay clear. The script is certainly better than it lets on to be, as are the performances from the main cast, but it definitely feels like this was marketed more towards the fans than anything else, or at least towards those more fanatical about the genre than anything else. I had a pretty good time overall, but that doesn't mean you will. I've heard very mixed things about the sequels that have been released throughout the years, but I actually wouldn't be opposed to seeing a concept like this remade down the line, with perhaps a similar writer in mind, but with the original intention of it being a parody being fully realized.

Tomorrow, we're actually back to the present (and revisiting the past) with CARRIE!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 16

When meek medical student Jeffrey's fiancee Elizabeth perishes in a freak lawnmower accident, the  young man becomes initially depressed, but soon incredibly determined to be with her once more, no matter the cost or means. Through some less-than-respectable "searching" in New York City's seedy prostitution district, he seeks out the best parts from the best women in order to rebuild his dearly departed and beheaded fiancee.

Like the previously reviewed Antiviral, you could make the strong argument that Frankenhooker isn't a horror film, and director Frank Henenlotter (Basket Case) has apparently gone on the record saying that he prefers to be called an "exploitation" director more than anything else. Unlike that film, however, I'd classify this one as a black comedy, and a fairly funny, nutty one at that. I know I say this about a good number of directors on here, but with Henenlotter, you have to be willing to relax and just realize this is going to be what people collectively refer to as "nonsensical" or "eye-roll inducing."

The plot is, as if you couldn't tell from the obvious title homage, a tribute to Frankenstein and The Bride of Frankenstein, though I'd say there's also tiny tributes to the likes of The Brain That Wouldn't Die and even Re-Animator (not just due to the Jeffrey Combs tribute with the main character naming). Our title character is played by the not-quite one and done former Penthouse Pet Patty Mullen, who is actually stuffed into a fat suit for her first appearance prior to Frankenhooker's opening credits, though me being the desperate man admittedly wouldn't have turned her down in the "fat suit" either. Speaking of Mullen, man do I wish she hadn't disappeared after this, because the lady had a great knack for comedy. Her facial expressions make this all the more memorable, and is a good possibility why this is so fondly remembered by horror fans. Speaking of the aforementioned Jeffrey, he's played by James Lorinz, with sort of a George Costanza-gone-mad scientist kind of schtick. He's clearly a putz at times, but still sort of lovable for the most part. I'm not quite sure I understood his fascination with "drills" though, which I'll have to explain to those who ask me in public. It was a running gag that just didn't do much for me.

While the comedic parts of this film are pretty stupendous, they are a considerably darker shade than Basket Case's for the first third or so, at least for the more uptight crowd. Then again, if you're that uptight, why are you watching a film titled Frankenhooker in the first place? With Basket Case though, I liked the actual horror elements that film seemed to carry, and they are kind of missed here, since nothing in Frankenhooker is especially gory per se, at least compared to what was coming out at the time, which is weird considering the $2.5 million budget we see here. The character of the evil pimp, while admittedly amusing and looking like Freddie Mercury on an all steroids diet, ultimately just felt like he was there to help set up something which never comes about. Minor complaints, but they are still small complaints I suppose.

Whatever you or director Frank Henenlotter want to call this film, Frankenhooker ends up being a lot of fun, and I think I actually might have enjoyed it a tad bit more than Basket Case in some regards, though I haven't viewed Henenlotter's other original creation Brain Damage as of yet. Perhaps it came down to the scene involving a drug that I'll simply refer to as "Super Crack," or the nonchalant behavior and attitude of everyone in New York City when they see a very peculiar-looking prostitute walking the streets (constantly asking "Wanna Date?"), pushing people into the road, and electrocuting those she comes into "contact" with. Perhaps it was Bill Murray's sarcastic (or was it?) recommendation of the film back upon its initial release in 1990. Or maybe I was just in the mood for a silly, B-movie with a lot of nudity and a big camp factor. For those interested, Frankenhooker is available for streaming on Youtube and is available on DVD and Blu-Ray.

Tomorrow, ladies night comes to a bloody end with THE SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 15

During World War II, two New Zealand soldiers, Grogan and Tane, make their way to the Nazi-occupied trap of Forau Island, in the hopes of drawing Hitler's attention away from Normandy. Once near a fort, the two men are drawn to screams for help, both male and female. Unfortunately, Tane is killed, while Grogan is knocked unconscious by a Nazi colonel. As he comes to, Grogan's assailant tells him of the true source of what these Nazi forces had been plotting: demonic conjuring.


I'd like to preface today's entry with a collective wag of the finger to Netflix. A mere hours after my viewing of The Devil's Rock, I've found that it has been removed from the "Instant Stream" option. Those of you who know me know that most of my past marathons consist of relying upon the usage of streaming sites such as Netflix themselves, along with sites such as Youtube, Crackle, and the like. Hopefully, over the next year or so, I'll attempt to organize next year's list, which will largely consist of home video releases, which are obviously free of removal and limited-time restrictions.


Right off the bat, The Devil's Rock won brownie points with me by setting itself during the time of World War II, something I don't see that often during many modern horror films. You would figure that a setting and time period such as that is ripe for the picking considering the fascination with the occult that Hitler had, and the atrocities that the Nazis themselves committed. But as the plot synopsis above would tell you, the plot background is a bit more alluring than just the simple "Nazis are evil" jargon.


The introductory fifteen minutes, in terms of dialogue, exposition, and even pacing, feel almost lifted from a video game, which may or may not be a bad thing. But after it passes, and we enter the "rock" in question, we get to the nitty gritty, which is meant to focus on our two main characters: New Zealand soldier Grogan and Nazi Colonel Meyer. Obviously, the two are nothing alike, but given the filmmaker's decision to predominantly focus on just the two of them for most of the film's running time, it helps to build character and develop their backstories. They make a decent mismatched pair, and before you can think about playing some sort of silly 80s buddy sitcom theme, make no mistake, this is clearly an "enemy of my enemy" situation, and in this case, one of them is still a filthy Nazi.


But the inclusion of the occult isn't something that should come as surprise to those more well-versed in fantasy cinema, or at least in films dealing with Nazis. The obsession and "link" between nazism and the occult began with my introduction to the Hellboy series, and before you cry "read a book that isn't a comic book you whippersnapper" or something like that, I'll just politely ask you to be quiet for the time being. The demon, which chooses to stay in one form throughout most of the film's fairly quick running time, looked a little similar to a female version of Satan from Legend, but maybe not as defined. She really does her damndest to tempt these two, and man does it take a lot for you to think "listen to the Nazi for once dude."


The Devil's Rock does feel somewhat short, and does suffer from a somewhat lower budget, but it is a pretty fine effort when it comes down to it, especially when you consider the somewhat misleading, though admittedly enticing DVD cover chosen for its stateside/Region 1 release. It might not be the most accurate comparison to make, but I felt the same way with this as I did with something like 2002's Dog Soldiers, though it obviously doesn't deal with werewolves and is nowhere near as gory (and like that film, you might benefit from subtitles once in a while). Still, like that picture, it is a pleasant surprise that seems to come out of nowhere, with little-to-no hype, no real plot holes, and a fairly satisfying ending. Be sure to stream....erm......find it somehow.



Tomorrow, the ladies are coming back to life with FRANKENHOOKER!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 14

Medical student Mary Mason is on her way to achieving her life goal of becoming a surgeon, save for her bills which she is struggling to pay. On the night that she decides to take up stripping in order to help pay off said bills, she finds herself indadvertedly drawn into the world of underground surgeries. Though initially aghast, she finds that taking large sums of money in order to perform "special" procedures on particular clientele may not be such a bad idea after all, though the repercussions will be more dire than suspected.

Holy frijoles, the sister from Ginger Snaps is alive!

Alright, that wasn't the most eloquent of ways to start a review. I never claimed to be a professional. Not yet at least.

Speaking of professional, directors/sisters Jen and Sylvia Soska (alias "The Twisted Twins") don't come from a famous family or have a large budget (at least to my knowledge), though the two did make some waves in 2009 with their very bluntly titled Dead Hooker in a Trunk. Shot in only fifteen days, American Mary is their second, but hopefully not last horror effort, as this ends up being a pretty darn good little film, and gives us the best performance from Katharine Isabelle we've seen to date.

Once the initial viewing was completed, I often wondered why the Canadian actress Isabelle isn't a bigger star, be it in horror films or in cinema in general. She's got a great look, a credible amount of sly charisma, and certainly shows that she can carry a movie by herself if need be. It's perplexing as to why she isn't as big as someone like, say, Emma Stone or Mary Elizabeth Winstead. I don't want to say it is due to bad career decisions (go watch her breakthrough role in Ginger Snaps and tell me she wouldn't have been a star), since everyone is capable of slipping up once in a while, but maybe her awesome job here will finally help turn her career around again. The character of Mary never becomes unsympathetic throughout the film's running time either, save for maybe a few moments of "desperation," which seem altogether tragic in retrospect. She's easy to identify with, struggling mentally and financially, and as the film progresses, she regresses, but still retains a sense of humanity. Mary is also the source of most of the movie's dark humor, something I didn't quite expect, but welcomed.

While Mary's a great character indeed, I think the support cast ranged from "pretty interesting" to "evil bad guy man." There's the character of Beatress, who will make me never, and I mean, EVER want to look at Betty Boop again. She's fun, freaky, and all around kind of sad. But then there's pretty much every male character. American Mary doesn't exactly hide its feminist message, which I don't really have a problem with, but every male is either a creep, an asshole, or a combination of both. There are glimpses of men who resemble none of the above, but they're so rarely seen, it ultimately doesn't matter. But much like Lucky McKee's The Woman (also a very pro-feminist film), this didn't hurt my overall enjoyment of the product. Some nitpickers will have a major problem with the way the Soskas choose the wrap their project, as there feel like some loose ends that don't quite get tied up, but I think it would be a case of doing the math and figuring things out for yourself.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but I have a personal problem with viewing motion pictures, or even programs that deal with surgical procedures, be it on living beings or dead ones. Even programs such as HBO's Autopsy back in the day used to make my stomach turn in a way where I had to change the channel in order to prevent last night's dinner from coming back up. Unless you're extremely squeamish, American Mary isn't likely to cause that reaction in you, but I think those of you more critical of "Stateside" horror will find something to like here, even if this is technically from our brothers/sisters up north. Count me in for future projects from these twins, but I might have to politely ask that they don't attempt to play any more Russian twins in those pictures.

Tomorrow, we're not quite done with ladies night and take a trip to THE DEVIL'S ROCK!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 13

On Halloween night, an assortment of teenagers are invited to a party at the abandoned mortuary known as Hull House by high school outcast Angela Franklin and her friend Suzanne. Things are going rather well, until the power dies, and in order to kill time, the group decide to hold a seance. They unknowingly unleash a demonic entity from the house's crematorium, which possesses Suzanne, and eventually Angela herself. Naturally, things start to slowly go wrong, and the group finds themselves slowly being picked off one by one on the night where evil is allowed to run amok with no rules.


I can always rely on the 80s to bring me out of the funk that a barrage of bad killer creature features put me in. Well, okay, Grizzly wasn't really that bad of a picture compared to what was to come, but those fishies in the coming days sure did stink to high hell. Anyhow, for something that was mostly thrashed upon release back in 1988, Kevin S. Tenney's Night of the Demons has amassed a nice cult following (and two sequels he has nothing to do with) throughout the years, and I'm happy to finally have gotten around to seeing it. This has been on my "to watch" list for the past two years, but for various reasons never quite made it on (it doesn't help that Amazon.com has the DVD sale price listing at above fifty dollars).


The opening credits automatically gives me hope with a great synthesizer theme, an animated sequence, and the words "Linnea Quigley" being flashed at me. Night's cast of characters are pretty much your typical cast of horror cliches, but they are fairly easy to identify. There's the greaser, the fat guy who looks like one of the Nasty Boys from the WWF, the Asian girl, the black guy, Linnea Quigley (easy to identify since she does love to get naked), and future pet psychic Amelia Kinkade as Angela Franklin, the demonically-possessed villain of the film, among others. Outside of being Rue McClanahan's (The Golden Girls) niece, I think it's a shame that Kinkade doesn't seem to have much else on her resume acting-wise beside these pictures. She's got a certain kooky charm that we can never have too much of this field, and her now-infamous scene of dancing to "Bauhaus-Stigmata Martyr" is so odd, yet kind of enchanting, it really makes you wonder why she indeed didn't get (or at least take) any more offers beyond these projects. This might be one of the reasons as to why I'm so hesitant to watch the remake that came about in 2009, as I just don't think I can buy Shannon Elizabeth in a role like this. As for the aforementioned Quigley, she gets just as much time as Kinkade does, and I'd argue that the film is just as much about her as it is about Angela, but subsequent sequels don't seem to believe so. As time goes by, their "conditions" seem to worsen, and they play it up rather casually, which works well in a case such as this, since possession is usually much more subtle, but in several scenes involving Quigley and her lipstick, you'll end up raising your eyebrows a bit here and there.


Now, I don't want to make this sound like a perfect film by any means, because it certainly is anything but. While the slow build towards any first sign of blood is acceptable to me (I clocked it at fifty minutes), some gorehounds might get a little frustrated and cry foul. The plot is also not the most original either, sharing a lot of similarities to Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead, but this was the 1980s, so it may seem customary for this be a common occurrence. Night of the Demons' final third also stretches itself out for quite a long time, which isn't necessarily bad, but you get the sense that writer Joe Augustyn just probably ran out of gas after a certain point and didn't want the film to be under ninety minutes, so he decided it would be best for the survivors to decide to explore and run around instead of doing anything more remotely interesting, like say, fighting. Angela's puns aren't exactly subtle either, making Freddy Krueger's look smooth. Still, as you can see from the poster above, he wasn't even invited to this party, so to that, I will quote the man from this film simply named "Stooge:"

Hey, I just needed an excuse to talk about how awesome that line was.


I believe Night of the Demons could work very well on a double bill with something like Return of the Living Dead (and not just because both films star Linnea Quigley). Both pictures have a very "rock and roll" vibe to them, as they've both been injected with songs from the punk and metal subgenres (and in the case of this film, assorted band stickers ranging from Exodus to TSOL can be seen in various scenes), don't take themselves too seriously, and are here to subtly remind you to have some fun once in a while. Plus, this picture ties in with the holiday of Halloween itself, which was a nice element that I legitimately didn't expect, but was a very pleasant surprise that only enhanced the good time. A solid recommendation.



Tomorrow, the women are still out for blood with AMERICAN MARY!