Unseen Terror 2018: Day 23

For last year's Unseen Terror, I kicked it off with 1980's rather infamous and influential slasher Prom Night. Several weeks afterwards, I dove right into what was to be the first in a line of sequels. Much to my surprise, I found Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II to be rather enjoyable, if not a bit standard. Heck, if I'm allowed my first "Bold Horror Statement" for the 2018 iteration of this blog-o-thon, it would be that I prefer that picture to the original. Initially, I was just going to let sleeping corpses lie, but when I discovered that Prom Night III: The Last Kiss was available for free on the addicting dumpster fire known as YouTube (and that the quality wasn't complete garbage), I had to dive right in.


Unbeknownst to me, the third entry is a continuation of the story found in Hello Mary Lou, as it concerns the titular, undead prom queen, this time portrayed by new actress Courtney Taylor, returning to the world of the living yet again. Unlike before, when she escapes hell, she arrives on Earth with no particular motive other than wanting to kill people and occasionally get in the pants of a high schooler named Alex (played by Party of Five part-timer Tim Conlon). He is the very definition of the "Average Joe," as he doesn't excel at any subject in particular, dreams of working in a field that he is likely not qualified for, and is having difficulties with his girlfriend (Cynthia Preston). When Mary Lou comes into his life, she magically causes everything to become wonderful, but insists that he has to clean up any "damage" that she causes on the side. Sooner than later, the faculty body count starts to rise just as high as Alex's grades do.


In stark contrast to the first flick, Prom Night III closely resembles a parody of the slasher genre that was so huge at the time, and features a HEAVY emphasis on the comedic aspect of the "horror-comedy" tag. Sure, the second film had its funny moments here and there, but it was played relatively straight for most of its running time. I wasn't shocked to find out that just like its predecessor, the writers had no intention of this ever being connected to the Prom Night universe, but it appears as though that was changed to potentially make it more sellable to moviegoers. In some regards it works, but tonally this thing can't quite seem to make up its mind. The few moments of gruesome deaths that are to be found are certainly gory, but nothing this time around feels particularly scary, and the humor that's provided for the actors to deliver isn't good either. Comprised of the easiest and cheapest of jokes (i.e. fat people eat a lot, women who work out have to be manly, etc.), it feels like something that would better fit a bad early-90s Fox Network sitcom.


On the plus side, the two leads are exceptionally entertaining. Alex may not go down in the books as one of the slasher genre's all-time great heroes, but he's easy to sympathize with and Conlon gives him a sort of naïve, yet endearing attitude. As mentioned above, we also have a new Mary Lou, and while I mean no disrespect towards the previous actresses who played her in Prom Night II, Courtney Taylor might be the perfect choice for the character. The decision to transform this villain into essentially a sultry, slightly crazed female version of Freddy Krueger (complete with puns) does come across as pandering to the mainstream audiences, but she's having so much fun with the role that it's hard to truly get mad. She's also striking to look at (note: she's a dead ringer for Twin Peaks' Sherilyn Fenn!), so I'm certain that such an attribute could be beneficial for the more superficial folks watching these type of pictures.


Prom Night III: The Last Kiss is a bit on the messy side, but it's a surprisingly watchable sequel. What it might lack in uniqueness, it tries to make up for with some fun kills and entertaining performances from the aforementioned cast. It helps to keep it from ever being boring, which I'd argue is worse than being a straight-up awful or forgettable flick. If I'm allowed to make one more comparison, this franchise's spiral into unabashed silliness is very similar to what happened with Sleepaway Camp: start with a fairly serious film, then get progressively wackier with each follow-up. If you don't mind paying a pretty penny, you can grab this one alongside the next entry (which may or may not be coming soon) on DVD.




Tomorrow, I'll hopefully be well-rested, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I don't fall behind in my reviewing habits!

Unseen Terror 2018: Day 15

During the 1950s, a young couple are subjected to anti-nuclear testing, which seems to work exactly as desired according to multiple scientists. Nine months later, and coinciding with the tenth anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing, the couple give birth to a healthy baby boy. Suddenly, the happy parents burst into flames, seemingly due to as one doctor puts it "spontaneous human combustion." Decades later, their child Sam is a fully grown man, and finds that he's occasionally suffering from random physical outbursts, which start to leave odd marks on his body. It doesn't take long for him to discover the truth behind his upbringing and creation, and he doesn't handle these revelations very well.



If there's one thing that can be said about the late, great, and sorely missed Tobe Hooper, it's that he was ahead of the curve. If we are allotted another statement, then I propose that it be this: he had a weird fuckin' filmography. Several days ago, I took a gander at the very odd science fiction/horror hybrid known as Lifeforce, which was his first of three projects released by the now-defunct low budget kings Canon Films (sidenote: there's an excellent documentary about them titled Electric Boogaloo available for streaming on Netflix). After all of those features made their way to theaters, he co-wrote and directed this little ditty, which was reportedly shot in a little over a month and sported a much smaller budget than ones previously given to him by other studios. Unfortunately, it bombed rather hard, but after twenty-eight years, does it warrant a status as say, an overlooked cult favorite?


My first observation of Spontaneous Combustion came with spotting Brad Dourif in the starring role. I've actually been a bit surprised by how many films he's appeared in over the past two years of this marathon (Death Machine, Grim Prairie Tales, Cult of Chucky, Graveyard Shift), and when I picked up the DVD rip of this from VHSPS, I did a rather amateurish thing by just glancing at the cover and the brief description, all while ignoring the cast and crew involved. To the surprise of basically nobody, he is in full-on "overacting Brad" mode. Subtlety has never exactly been the man's best friend in the field of big screen performances, but that's kind of why we like him. He does manage to calm down a bit halfway through the picture when he gets a chance to meet Melinda Dillon (A Christmas Story, Close Encounters of the Third Kind), and things even start to get fairly emotional once he's settled down. Of course, you have to get past the really awkward accent that she seems unable to hold, but I digress. The character of Sam is easy to sympathize with, especially when you consider that in essence, he's a living, breathing nuclear weapon who has been lied to throughout most of his life and just can't understand what in the world is happening to his body.


Speaking of the body, Hooper manages to tap into something this time around that filmmakers such as David Cronenberg have often done: humanity's fear of decay. The idea that our bodies are rebelling against us, and we are unable to control these sudden actions that may or may not cause deterioration has always been utterly fascinating to me. True, there's a bit more cheese piled on top of this than in something like The Fly or even Akira, but it's handled fairly well here. These side effects do have a positive to them though, because we get to see Dourif run wild with the ability to control electrical fields and emit (somewhat cheap) pyrokinetic powers, which basically turn him into an X-Men character. Not since perhaps the last Grand Theft Auto video game have I seen this many poor bastards get set on fire (including John Landis in a brief, albeit fun cameo), with either Dourif unwillingly (or in the case of the third act, sometimes purposely) setting people ablaze. These horrific sequences come to a head during Spontaneous Combustion's final fifteen minutes, where Hooper must have felt obligated to inject steroids into his script. It is all very silly, and feels like a bit of an insult if you loved the sheer grittiness and mean factor that was found in his earlier flicks, but it's also immensely satisfying, and gives the creative team time to work on some nifty prosthetic effects and makeup.


From what I've gathered, there is a large contingent that seems to believe that Spontaneous Combustion is Tobe Hooper's last truly good or at least watchable motion picture. Though I have yet to lay my eyes on every body of work with his name attached to it (and would also argue for Body Bags to hold that aforementioned honor), I'd say that this is a fairly underrated work in the man's catalog. It does feel sluggish in parts, but more than makes up for any potential boredom with utter zaniness, absurd commentary on the notion of the "nuclear family," and the always wonderful Brad Dourif. I'd recommend it for people who have worn out their copies of movies like Firestarter and Scanners. Fun fact: when I was purchasing a DVD of this from the VHSPS people at Monster Mania (this makes the THIRD flick of theirs to appear on here, but not the last), I was completely unaware that it was available for streaming on Amazon Prime. Better yet, this early 90s relic is set to receive a limited Blu-Ray release on October 23rd from Sunset Films.



Maybe I need to learn how to save my money and just be patient....



…….nah. Besides, tomorrow we have to talk about some other trash I picked up from that convention!

Unseen Terror 2018: Day 7

In the old west, two travelers happen upon each other. One is on his way to meet with his wife for a romantic reunion, while the other is a bounty hunter carrying a body so that he may reap the $2,000 reward that has been put out. To pass the time, the men decide to try and one up another with eerie tales.



I apologize that today's review may be rather short. I'm still under the weather, and have two lengthy overnight shifts scheduled at my store, of which will likely leave me temporarily exhausted. Still, I refuse to fall behind this year, and given how quick of a watch this one is, I'm not letting any roadblocks stop me just yet.


Grim Prairie Tales can be summarized in one breath: Darth Vader and Chucky sit around a fire and regale one another with mediocre horror fables that make those found in Are You Afraid of the Dark? look frightening in comparison. It's actually a damn shame that this picture isn't about Brad Dourif and James Earl Jones, because their interactions and exchanges of dialogue are so friggin' great. I'm of the mindset that thinks it's utterly bizarre to see the former play a "straight" man in ANY picture, while the latter has been made up to look somewhat unrecognizable (though his booming voice is nigh impossible to disguise). They're making the best of lines that most performers could never deliver without sounding utterly ridiculous, and god bless both of them for it.


As fun as the narrative may be, the "tales" themselves are remarkably dull. Our first one, which boils down to Native Americans getting revenge on an evil white guy, feels like something that would be submitted for a short film festival and forgotten about the next day. Number two revolves around a random man assisting a seemingly pregnant woman, and sports the most peculiar (and "WTF"-worthy) twist of the pack. The third is probably the most interesting and mature, but that's only because it has no supernatural ties and is focused on someone being forced into participating in a lynch mob. Our final segment, where a gunslinger believes he is being haunted by someone he previously shot, has a ton of potential (and an actor who is dead ringer for Tim Roth), but feels very rushed and ends with a bit of a whimper.


In the world of horror anthologies, Grim Prairie Tales is among the weakest. Despite a small handful of fun moments and some great chemistry between Jones and Dourif, it just doesn't have enough pizazz to warrant an immediate viewing. Hopefully someone will just cut all of the scenes involving the two most well-known performers into one short film on YouTube, so that you can otherwise avoid this entirely. As it stands, there is no legal way to obtain this collection, and unless you feel like spending a good chunk of change on a VHS tape, you are likely going to have to visit a bootleg booth at your local convention like I did (shoutout yet again to the VHSPS guys).



Tomorrow, I feel as though we're owed a solid slasher flick. So, let's stay outside and set up camp, shall we?

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 26 & 27

Huh, okay, I've calmed down now. Well, once again, things have taken a bit of a turn for Unseen Terror. I'd like to thank steaming service Plex for somehow forgetting my login information, and not cooperating no matter how many attempts it takes. This means that for the time being, original choices The Lure and Rings will have to wait on the sidelines. So, let's just get the two days' worth of flicks out of the way, shall we?

Xtro II: The Second Encounter, despite advertising itself as a sequel to that one particular flick I reviewed not that long ago, has nothing to do whatsoever with its predecessor. Rather, it plays out like a mixture of Aliens, Predator, and a primitive version of Stargate. It turns out that when writer/director Harry Bromley Davenport made the decision to begin work on a follow-up film, he didn't have the rights to his own work's storyline, but rather only the name itself. Not feeling completely deterred or defeated, he set out to work on a new motion picture anyway, believing that attaching the Xtro name would be enough of a draw for interested viewers. Yeah, that tactic of "we've got the name, that's all people want, right?" worked wonders for another, bigger movie didn't it?


This drastic change is felt almost immediately though, as the film just doesn't wish to be relatively self-contained or have the element of family drama like in Davenport's o.g. flick. The main plot (or whatever constitutes it) focuses on a team of supposed scientists who are working on interdimensional travel, and when one of their first guinea pigs accidentally brings back an unknown stowaway that bursts through its host, they band together to fight back and survive. As you can see, Xtro II is pretty shameless with showing off its influences (even the poster's tagline is a dead giveaway). But unlike the first Xtro, which was at least trying to establish its own identity, this just feels ludicrously lazy and like an excuse for some of its cast members to cosplay as bargain bin versions of the Colonial Marines.

And you thought I was kidding.

The fact that four separate writers were involved in creating Xtro II (hint: Davenport isn't one of them) is an absolute shocker considering that not only does it lack an original bone in its body, but there aren't even any memorable characters to be found. Shit, even the added presence of now-internet meme Jan-Michael Vincent can't bring this pile out of the tar pit that it's stuck in. According to several reports, he was rather disinterested while working on set, and ended up being fed all of his lines by the director himself. If you're combining this with the disconnect from the previous material, one can't be entirely surprised when you read interviews about HBD absolutely hating this entire picture. 

Look, despite the fact that I know friends who find it joyous whenever I bash a movie during my October marathon, there are very rare situations where I want one of my picks to be truly awful. I like being pleasantly surprised, especially when it can lead me to purchasing something on Blu-ray that I would have never considered doing before (Nights of the Demons, From Beyond, Popcorn). But Xtro II: The Second Encounter is junk. Pure, piss-soaked, shit-running-down-the-leg junk. Even if you decided to call it X.I.N.O (a.ka. "Xtro in Name Only)," it would still be a colossal waste of time. Do not seek it out. Pretend that it doesn't exist. Do not petition for this to receive a Blu-ray release. Let it rot.



Well, maybe you can demand that somehow we grab a hold of the print and digitally insert Brad Dourif into multiple shots. He can make anything better.



Well, with how atrocious Xtro II: The Second Encounter is, the plans for watching Xtro 3: Watch the Skies went flying out of the window. I just don't think I could handle anything else from this series of films. I'm in desperate need of a refresher.

I'm fully aware of what somebody might be saying right now: you're gonna cleanse your palette with a film that opens with musician John Mayer and comedian Bill Burr as a pair of lunkhead chemical waste drivers? Well heck, do you have a better idea? Regardless, 2014's Zombeavers, whose plot is pretty much what you think it is, kept evading Unseen Terror year after year, and it was merely because of what I'd call just plain procrastination. I love killer creature features, low budget trash, and discovering new horror-comedies. Plus, it's under ninety minutes, so I could knock this out before starting a shift at work if I played my cards right.


Sad as I am to have missed my initially scheduled films for these past two days, choosing Zombeavers turned out to be a pretty solid choice anyway. Once I noticed that the first sight of the titular, crazed critters made me howl with laughter that could have woken slumbering giants beneath the earth (that and hearing a screaming soundbite from Mortal Kombat II around the halfway mark), I knew that I was in for a splendidly silly time. Writer/director Jordan Rubin spent many years working in the realm of comedic shows like Crank Yankers and The Man Show, and one can tell that he must have been having a field day while conceptualizing this piece of cinema. Along with writers Al and Jon Kaplan, they turn in a script that is equal parts self-aware absurdness and small throwback to the 70s-era wave of Jaws knockoffs. True, not all of their jokes stick their landing, and most, if not all of the main characters are unlikeable/disposable schmucks, but when you're here to watch a film titled Zombeavers, does it really matter?


On the monster side of things, the bloodthirsty rodents look very, very cheap. It isn't on the level of something like say, The Killer Shrews, but more often than not, there are moments where you can clearly notice that they didn't care to put in any effort or spend any cash on making them look or move rather realistically. But gosh, they're so adorably comical that I forgave it almost immediately. There's also a fun twist revolving around their infection that occurs at around the hour-or-so mark of Zombeavers that leads to some entertaining and quite graphic gags. Up until that point, I was slightly concerned that the picture was actually holding back a bit in the gore department, but it felt as though the filmmakers were listening to their audience and winked back at us while sporting the biggest of shit-eating grins. It was a bit of a shame that these moments occur so late into its running time, but when you consider the meager amount of money that they likely had at their disposal, it's not a great offense.


Zombeavers isn't a masterpiece by any means, and is very, very stupid. But it's the absolute best kind of dumb that is sorely needed once in a blue moon. It won't win any awards, but when something like this sets out with the best of intentions and delivers on exactly what it promises, it's very hard to give it any real flack and doesn't necessarily need to earn any accolades from anybody besides the fans. Playing this back-to-back with releases such as Black Sheep or Alligator at a party isn't such a bad idea if you ask me, especially given its running time. As of this writing, this little ditty is available to stream on Netflix, and a purchasable, if not slightly highly-priced DVD is out there for interested parties as well.



.....hmm. What joke can I add at the end here? Erm, I guess I'll just say fuck Xtro II again then?




Tomorrow....well, I can't really promise that any one particular motion picture will pop up on here. Maybe something Italian? Maybe something from a notorious, but respected director? Maybe a Troma film? I guess your guess will be as good as mine!

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 23

The M.A.R.K. 13 is the way of the future. A perfect killing machine with a healing factor, it has been developed as the ultimate weapon for which to drive enemies to the brink of extinction, if not eventually eradicate them completely. When a desert scavenger peruses the wasteland and comes across parts of this heavily-wired construction, he sells the pieces to ex-soldier and collector Moses Baxter and junk dealer Alvy. The two conduct their own separate research of the discovered robot, with Baxter delivering his portion to his girlfriend Jill for sculpting purposes. Over time, the collective unearth the truth about this seemingly-innocuous automation, and find themselves being hunted.

I swear, I had no clue that I would be watching so many pictures this year that would be so derivative of Ridley Scott's 1979 science fiction/horror masterpiece known as Alien or James Cameron's 1984 epic The Terminator. Still, I suppose that if you're going to stroke the ego of a film's legacy, you could do much worse than those two. Quirky South African director Richard Stanley, who would later go on to pen and get removed from the 1996 adaptation of H.G. Wells' The Island of Dr. Moreau (there's an entire documentary dedicated to that troubled production), certainly wears his influences on his sleeves in this 1990 cyberpunk/horror combination that takes much of its story from a short in British comic book 2000 AD, and has reportedly garnered a very mixed reaction over the years.

Cast-wise, you may be quite surprised to see Dylan McDermott of The Practice and American Horror Story fame pop up as our lead performer, though when you consider that this was only his fifth film role at the time, that shock factor may dissipate rather quickly. He's perfectly serviceable as one of our primary protagonists Moses, though save for his ability to remember and spout random quotes from the "good book," he's potentially replaceable. The same might not be said for his best friend Shades, portrayed by Irish actor John Lynch, who just seems completely unhinged and seemingly lives in a world of his own when he isn't following Moses around. The alluring Stacey Travis' (Phantasm II, Ghost World) character of Jill ends up being the real standout here, garnering sympathy and support during the most perilous of situations. I have no real idea why she didn't have more of a prominent career, and when you see that some of her more recent efforts include very small roles in the likes of Soul Plane and A Christmas Story 2, it just makes you a bit sad. Perhaps the only true weak spot comes in the form of Jill's perverted, self-righteous neighbor Lincoln, played by late character actor William Hootkins (Porkins from Star Wars!), as he just feels wholly unnecessary to the plot and whose purpose only seems to be helping provide an exceptionally cool visual treat later in the movie.


On the subject of visuals, Hardware does pack a decently-strong punch considering its rather meager budget. Music video cinematographer Steven Chivers has helped set up this version of earth that resembles a future that is just barely staying together; it's Mad Max by way of Akira or a later-era Alien story. The design of the M.A.R.K. 13 is crude, but the camera work is smart enough to hide most of its more absurd-looking aesthetics. One particular sequence involving the robot's self-repair mechanism is akin to something that you would find in larger productions, and it comes across as far creepier than it should appear once you initially hear about it. I've always found the idea of machines such as this and the more well-known ones seen in pieces like The Terminator truly fascinating, as they don't inherently realize that they are committing true acts of villainy, but are simply doing what their programming says. Those features and traits do descend into more clunky and sloppy territories during its final act when it just suddenly decides to go completely bonkers, but they end up providing the audience with some rather nasty-looking kills (spoilers: the horror elements don't really kick in for quite a while). One of Hardware's other weak aspects comes in the dialogue department, as the forced usage of biblical references can induce some eye rolling in more sophisticated audience members.

Admittedly, Hardware does rely on far too much style to cover up its basic, run-of-the-mill plot, but sometimes I can forgive a film for that. Unlike something such as, say, Death Machine, the homages are somewhat more in your face (if not a different shade of blatant), and it tries a couple of new ideas that while not always working out, do earn a myriad of brownie points for effort. Hell, it even has cameos from the likes of Iggy Pop and Lemmy Kilmister, while sporting a soundtrack that features tracks from early post-punkers Public Image Ltd and industrial metal legends Ministry, though the latter's song "Stigmata" is inexplicably set to a performance on television from Gwar. Those alone could earn it a five star rating if you are as simple of a man as I am. If you don't feel like tracking down a low-grade print on websites such as YouTube, your best attempt at obtaining this little gem is to purchase the DVD online or from establishments that still keep physical media in stock.

Or better yet, just hit up the Severin table at your (somewhat) local horror convention. There's bound to be plenty of copies sitting close to unsold stacks of The Island of Dr. Moreau.

Tomorrow, a boy's father returns from space and, like the great "Leonard Nimoy" once said, keep watching the skis!.....er, I mean skies.




.....oh wait, we're behind again. Well, I suppose that we have to knock that out now too, huh? So uh, come back in a few hours instead.

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 11 & 12

Hooray, birthday entry!

And uh, day after the birthday entry too I suppose. Yeah, I admit that it does seem to be a little too early to already be running behind, but hey, when you have a special occasion to celebrate, then perhaps it's excusable. Still, I don't want a repeat of last year, where I have to cram three or four days' worth of viewings into one entry, so let's just cut to the chase and talk about some films, yes? On a similar note, American Made isn't too shabby of a picture, and Tom Cruise is at his best when he's playing a bit of scumbag or sketchy individual.



Oh, right, there are horror movies to tall about.

When compiling this year's listing of movies to watch, I managed to get lucky and gain access to a very good friend's Plex account. It was there that I found nearly every Stephen King adaptation to date, so the options are clearly open for me to pick and choose whatever the heck I could want. But after perusing, I shocked myself with a revelation: I have never seen Christine, the big screen version of his eighth published novel. This was especially surprising considering that it was also directed by horror icon John Carpenter, who I'd place in my personal list of top ten favorite directors, regardless of genre. If ever there were an invitation to finally take a shot and put the flick on, then it was now.

For those unaware of its plot, Christine is about a very socially awkward, dorky young man named Arnold Cunningham. Save for having a best friend in the athletic Dennis, he doesn't seem to have much luck with anything in general, be it a personal or social life. While traveling home one afternoon, the two of them drive by an old house, and suddenly "Arnie" is drawn to a broken down, ragged-looking 1958 Plymouth Fury. The owner of the property agrees to sell the vehicle, nicknamed "Christine," for a relatively meager amount of money. Within no time, Arnie begins taking his car to a repair shop, where his attitude and appearance begin to slowly change. It is during this time that his cohorts begin to do some research, and discover that the previous driver actually killed himself inside Christine. Even stranger is the fact that for as much time Arnie spends with his new purchase, it almost feels as if SHE's growing attached to him herself and acting unnaturally protective.


That concept for Christine is actually eerily similar to previous King works such as Carrie, but rather than psychic powers, this geeky character is instead gifted with the arrival of a four-wheeled machine that could help him exact revenge if there is a need for such a thing. It's also riddled with some of the same clichés as most, if not all of his prior projects (exaggerated bullies for one). Despite those minor critiques, Christine just clicks. Perhaps that can be attributed to the presence of John Carpenter, who shoots it in such a way that our eyes are glued to the screen for about every minute that goes by, as we grow attached to nearly every character throughout the picture. Even in his projects that aren't fully his own, the master behind Halloween and The Thing is still an expert at getting the best out of his cast, with future directors Keith Gordon (Dexter, Waking the Dead) and John Stockwell (Crazy/Beautiful) delivering memorable performances as our two leads. He also contributes an absolutely stellar score in between the old 1950s rock and roll tunes: a staple of his since the beginning that has very rarely changed. It's one of the many things that I truly admire about the man and something that I don't believe he gets enough credit for in the press.

I feel as though I can't add anything to the praise that Christine already gets from most fans of scarier cinema. It's a very entertaining experience that is exceptionally well shot and stylish as all hell (the sequences involving the car repairing itself are quite awesome and will make you want to research as to how it was done). Far more eerie and fun than it has any right to be, it's one of the highlights to the seventh year of Unseen Terror. There are relatively inexpensive releases out there for you to purchase, and once this fan is able to snag himself a better job in the future, the latter's Blu-ray shall be a welcome addition to the fold.

But be careful what you say about my Xbox One when I pop it in. She's pretty sensitive.

For the twelfth day, I figured that since Stephen King helped deliver one of the better pictures that I've seen so far, why not stick to another big screen feature from the most infamous person to emerge from Maine?

I was fully convinced that I had previously watched 1990's Graveyard Shift, a story about textile mill workers who are disappearing because they have a REALLY bad rat (or is it?) problem, until it suddenly occurred to me that I had only ever seen the final ten minutes on what I believe was Cinemax. Naturally my morbid curiosity led to me starting the whole thing up for the first time in 2017. Hey, I do possess some halfway decent memories of the finale, so the rest of the feature has to at least be entertaining. Unfortunately, what I received was something far less satisfying than I expected.


We'll start with the most noteworthy positive: Brad Dourif, once again, is the best aspect of a mediocre movie. In Graveyard Shift, he's playing a very unhinged ex-Vietnam veteran who has taken a serious liking to exterminating pests. His character is just so bizarre and amusing, that it wouldn't surprise you to learn that he may be committing these heinous acts of animal cruelty while being fully erect. Sadly, unlike his tenure in Death Machine, Dourif exits the flick far too early, and when he leaves, it's up to the rest of the cast to keep the film afloat. Perhaps it was due to a weak script or just feeling as if they wouldn't be able to compare to his greatness, but nobody else in particular seemed very interesting or well-developed, and we don't feel connected to or concerned for them during moments of peril. At least The Monster Squad's Steven Macht tries though, but goodness knows I could not quite figure out for the life of me what accent he was trying to lend to his character. My guess was a Latino version of Morgan Freeman who was reading an audiobook while on downers.

One interesting tidbit that I discovered while researching Graveyard Shift was that the original choice for director was legendary makeup/special effect pioneer Tom Savini. For reasons that can only presumably be attributed to lack of interest from the studio, he did not get the job, and the rather unknown Ralph Singleton was given the project instead. It's a damn shame, especially considering how tremendous Savini's body of work is, though the Cagney & Lacey veteran (......yep......) and his crew do bring a nice atmosphere to the whole thing. I can only assume that most of the budget was spent to help make some of the sets for the picture look dilapidated and fairly miserable, and a smidge more was used on designing the bloodthirsty and vicious creature that lurks below the mill. When it isn't being fully exposed until the end, it does look appropriately menacing and rather nifty. Those technical aspects do make for a nice bonus, but when you take those away, Graveyard Shift feels kind of hollow, and many other features of the final product feel cheap or unfinished (there's even a stock Wilhelm Scream thrown in towards the middle).


Though I would hesitate to call it a good movie, I can compliment Graveyard Shift by saying that it is quite watchable. It does help that Dourif and Macht are so strangely amusing to watch, and that the blood/gore is fairly good, but those could be about it. I honestly doubt that I will remember much about the overall experience by the end of the month, and that even includes the previously-mentioned standout performances. If you are still curious about adding it to your Stephen King collection, various forms of the DVD can be yours for more money than it is probably worth.



Or better yet, just go buy a second copy of Christine.




Tomorrow, we leave earth and encounter some strange visitors whose experiments could leave us rather traumatized. Lame hint? Sure, but I can see the fire in your eyes when I attempted that joke....

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 6

Still reeling from the loss of his youngest son and a torturous time spent back in Vietnam, postman Jacob Singer has been living a life that is less than adequate. Despite having a PhD and a girlfriend who loves and takes care of him, he is employed at the post office and is separated from his wife and other two children, who he misses dearly. Outside of work, he has been suffering from disturbing hallucinations that shake him to his very core. His delusions continue to worsen over time, which include the repeated appearances of men with constantly moving, blurred faces, and giant lizards presumably donning the disguise of other humans surrounding him. Unsettled and terrified of what he has been seeing, he begins to determine that there may no clear explanation as to why he is going mad. During one afternoon, he receives a call from an old cohort in his troop, who tells Jacob that he is not alone in experiencing these visions. Soon, the veteran shall have to start breaking down the differences between what is truly going on inside of his head, and what is actually a part of the horrifying reality that he lives on a day to day basis.

Ha, see? There ARE still monsters making appearances during this marathon.


In all seriousness, taking a break from a loop of Kaiju flicks was utterly necessary right now, as I felt that I was in need of some good human-based horror again. After hearing of Jacob's Ladder, director Adrian Lyne's (Flashdance, Fatal Attraction) extremely trippy foray into the genre, it actually ended up being the very first picture added to this year's iteration of Unseen Terror. And you know that if I am willing to choose or write anything down before a giant monster movie, I must be serious about seeing it. After all, the idea of everything not being precisely what it seems in the mind of a very small minority has always been a guilty pleasure of mine, and I was feeling desperate to see another good traumatic thriller/horror for the first time in quite a few months.


Jacob's Ladder is a fascinating beast of a different breed. Those who glance at the plot or trailer may be expecting one of several things. Some are foreseeing a more sophisticated, serious version of films akin to John Carpenter's They Live. There also exists the possibility of believing it to be a nice love letter to some of the more bizarre filmmakers from the last forty years, including David Cronenberg (The Brood, Videodrome) and David Lynch (Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks), who always managed to throw in a serious nod to the crazier side of the movie spectrum. Or, there is the easier comparison to once-great giants of the field such as M. Night Shyamalan (The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable). Personally, I would call it a precursor to some of the more respectable, contemporary works outside of the Cineplex, which includes video game titles like Silent Hill and Eternal Darkness, and its influence can be felt throughout theatrical releases that are sometimes argued for NOT being classified as horror, such as American Psycho or Session 9.


Goodness knows, our cast are absolutely treating it like a Grade-A horror flick though. Given Lyne's reputation and prior works in his filmography, seeing that the acting is just stupendous was no surprise. I was legitimately shocked that Tim Robbins (Mystic River, The Shawshank Redemption) and the dearly departed Elizabeth Pena (Rush Hour, The Incredibles) did not receive any sort of nominations (not even a Saturn Award?!) for their work here, especially given how much heart and soul they bare when an opportunity is handed to them. Jacob himself is extremely sympathetic; a quiet, strange individual that mercifully doesn't come across as too much of an introverted oddball, as the audience is assured that you should and will care about the man. Every time that he appears distraught or has another horrifying flashback or morbid vision, you just want to give him a hug, hoping and praying that he ends up safe and sound from whatever is driving him to insanity. Pena, playing his very sensual/caring girlfriend Jezzie, has the uncanny ability to make you both adore and hate her, being blessed with the gift of natural charm and a smile that can draw you in just as well as it did to Jacob himself. Danny Aiello (Do the Right Thing) also pops up as Louis, our titular character's friend/masseuse, who may have a better understanding of what this fuss is all about, but is simultaneously unaware of everything going on inside of Jacob's fractured mind. Despite his peculiar demeanor and sporadic appearances on screen, he is wiser than he lets on, and some of his dialogue is pivotal to the plot of the overall product.


Sure, all of these characters are great, but the dark, dreary world that Jacob's Ladder takes place in is the glue that keeps the package from falling apart. The misery that is spread throughout this version of Brooklyn is horrible enough to rival that of a motion picture such as David Fincher's Se7en. You get the horrible feeling in your stomach that every single aspect of this world is just ready to come undone once things begin to reveal themselves to our protagonist. Even the brief moments of sunshine and happiness are kept to a minimum, with most popping up in flashbacks that precede terrible moments in Jacob's life. Composing legend Maurice Jarre (Lawrence of Arabia, Ghost) also manages to put together some pieces that have the ability to get under your skin, or that border on the tragically beautiful.


Technically, I've only had to sit through six picks so far for this year's list, but even after glancing again at my choices that I selected for first time screenings, I firmly believe that Jacob's Ladder is going to be very hard to top. Its twisted, psychotic, and often depressing vibe helps its two hour running time finish up quicker than you would expect it to. Though the film will certainly not be for everyone who ventures out to watch it, and its final thirty minutes can be a bit on the convoluted side, those with an open mind and a willingness to think/dissect (for even just a bit) should find themselves in for a rather unique, rewarding, and almost symbolic experience. For a rather tiny amount of money, you can order the DVD and Blu-Ray for Jacob's Ladder on Amazon, and can even rent it for a meager price on services such as YouTube and iTunes.

Or, if you are just impatient, and want a most-likely mediocre reimagining from the same person who brought you 2015's The Perfect Guy, there should be one coming within the next year or two. But if you desire such a thing, you may need more professional help than I thought.

Tomorrow, it's time to go back! Back....to the 80s! And for that matter, back....to a New York where hobos melt into toilets!

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 6

At the request of his girlfriend Lori, Aaron Boone begins visiting a shrink by the name of Dr. Phillip Decker. The troubled man has confessed to dreaming of an area called Midian, where monsters roam freely and, instead of being shunned, are accepted. Through manipulation and heavy drug use, the doctor convinces Aaron that he has actually committed multiple homicides that has plagued the news lately, leading to him running and searching for his dream utopia so that he may escape from this reality. When he happens upon a graveyard seemingly in the middle of nowhere, he discovers that Midian is in fact a new world beneath the burial grounds, though the residents are not too fond of normal humans trespassing and making their way below.


Clive Barker's cult classic Nightbreed may have been my most anticipated pick of the season. Initially released in the early months of 1990, the film was considered to be a commercial and critical flop, with some folks curious as to how and why this came from the same mind that created the more beloved first two installments in the Hellraiser franchise (a.k.a. the only two worth watching more than once). Over the years, many have attributed this failure to a number of problems, including heavy editing (there are THREE different cuts of this movie out there, with two being more easily accessible to the general public) and a marketing campaign that presented it as just another "slasher" picture. For any single person who wasn't sitting around playing with their cat's turds, we were aware that its proper classification is more akin to a darker fantasy epic with strong horror overtones, not a "blood and guts galore" knockoff of less sophisticated titles. I mean, if Stephen King can write a lengthy piece of macabre literature like It, who says he that isn't allowed to also pen something such as Stand By Me?


Mind you, I'm not going to say that Nightbreed met my expectations or exceeded them. In fact, for as many things that I could praise Barker's second directorial effort for doing right, it does just an average job on something else in return. Yes, Craig Sheffer (One Tree Hill....maybe the only time you'll see that show's name appear on here) and Anne Bobby are rather enjoyable as our two leads and lovebirds, but they seem to feel like the only rounded characters in the entire plot. Noted director David Cronenberg actually decides to get up from sitting down in the chair and decides to participate in more than just a cameo, turning in a rather odd, if not slightly obvious performance as Boone's psychotherapist who may or may not be living a bloody double life himself. The "breed" themselves seem to be having a rollocking good time, and while they are somewhat one-dimensional as the "sympathetic, misunderstood beasts," I often found myself sad whenever they weren't on screen. Hell, maybe that's what it was like to have an imaginary friend when you were a child. I wouldn't know though; mine grew up and moved out after I told them I liked Predator more than The Terminator and Bret Hart more than Shawn Michaels............what?


I was not surprised in the slightest to find that Doug Bradley (Hellraiser) has a small role in Nightbreed, as I'm almost certain that he and Mr. Barker are good friends and would want one another to achieve as much success as possible. One name that I did NOT expect to see was composer Danny Elfman (Batman, Beetlejuice), who turns in a pretty darn great score that is just ripe with personality, accentuating and enhancing the more fun and daring parts of the movie, while inserting hints of the more calming and gothic tone that could only be fitting for a Clive Barker work. Truth be told, the more technical and practical aspects of Nightbreed are what I think warrant the most attention from cinephiles. There are at least fifteen, yes FIFTEEN people who worked in the makeup department here, and though I'm far too tired to list them all, they all deserve praise for creating some absolutely wonderful monsters and set pieces (one particular lead's first exploration of the underground world of Midian is a glorified showcase for creations of all sorts). At an early point on in the film, Boone is given heavy psychedelics by Decker, and there are many moments during which you can't tell if he ever truly came down from his "trip," especially when you see women that have quills sprouting from their bodies or people who can turn into smoke. It is wildly inventive, making you wonder if toy companies such as NECA would ever decide to do a line based on this property.



Nightbreed is definitely far from perfect, but it's a very compelling experience that still ends up very watchable in the end, driven by an intriguing story and great imagery that only someone as bizarre as Clive Barker himself could imagine. I'm often guilty of repeating things during Unseen Terror entries (then again, I believe most people who write about motion pictures are), but I really would like to watch this again sometime in the near future, with my preference going to its mysterious "Cabal" cut that is apparently only available to the general public through very select festival screenings. If you are so inclined, the "Director's Cut" of Nightbreed is available to watch on Netflix Instant Streaming. Speaking of said cut, you can also order it from Shout! Factory on Blu-Ray and DVD HERE and HERE.



And hell, it beats sitting through Lord Of Illusions again.




Tomorrow, we go forward to 1991, and we take a look at an obscure gem directed by....one of the guys from Porky's?! Yeah, okay, why not.....

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!