Unseen Terror 2018: Day 24

It is with the utmost apologies that I must retract a statement made on yesterday's post. After sitting through Prom Night III, I had concluded that the franchise was going into the same direction that Sleepaway Camp did (initial film is serious, sequels become progressively sillier). Thanks to Prom Night IV: Deliver Us from Evil, I'm not quite sure of what the hell this series wants to do anymore. After heading into the realm of horror-comedy, the fourth film in the Prom Night universe decides to go back to basics. There's no supernatural elements, over-the-top humor, or Mary Lou. Just a demented killer (in this case, a priest that has suffered a psychotic breakdown from years of sexual abuse and must punish sinners) stalking adult actors that are playing promiscuous, older teenagers. It also chooses to emphasize the "slow burn" ala the first movie, rather than go for a relentless bloodbath. So, with these decisions in mind, does it amount to a decent little flick?

Boy, I'm legitimately shocked by how much I disliked this follow-up. Prom Night IV sacrifices any of the potential excitement that was present in the second and third entries, and those choices amount to something that you wouldn't even bat an eye towards if it came on at 3:00 A.M. while you were drunkenly channel surfing. While the first Prom Night wasn't exactly a barn burner, it at least had the addition of Jamie Lee Curtis to prevent boredom from kicking in, and it rewarded your patience with some nice kills along with a fairly memorable finale. The same can't be said for this flick though. Here, the list of performers does boast some surprising finds, including Fringe showrunner J.H. Wyman, Nicole de Boer from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Cube, and future Degrassi and Donkey Kong Country (remember that show?) star Joy Tanner. None of them are particularly bad, but the material that they're working with is another level below substandard and with how ridiculously sluggish the pace often is (much like its ancestor, it takes close to an hour before any real slaughtering begins), it makes the movie a real chore to get through. There's a scene involving Tanner playfully trying to "seduce" de Boer's character that while obviously is a cheap ploy to arouse the males in the audience, ends up coming across as slightly homophobic when you look at it now. Perhaps the only decent part of Prom Night IV's story comes from the not-quite-subtle criticism of the Catholic Church in the form of the evil Father Jonas, but even he's a fairly bland slasher villain when compared to pretty much everyone else out there, and ESPECIALLY when you remember that he's supposed to be our replacement for the charismatic and fun Mary Lou Maloney. Besides, it's likely that you'll never be able to top Lester Lowe from Silver Bullet, so don't even try son.


I'm always upset whenever I see a promising franchise either end on a whimper (Critters) or just outstay its welcome by churning out crappy sequel after crappy sequel (Hellraiser). Much like someone I know who does read this blog (sup Maddux!), I feel like the best thing that one can do with Prom Night IV is what they did with the aforementioned Sleepaway Camp: recommend the first three pictures, actively tell them to avoid the fourth, and reiterate that they should REALLY not bother with it should they offer you a halfhearted chuckle in return. However, if you are committed to finishing this damn franchise like I am (not counting the remake), then sure, go ahead and drop close to thirty dollars on the DVD that comes packed with its far superior predecessor. Or go stream it on Amazon Prime. Or just lock yourself in your room and google search for more photos of Courtney Taylor from Prom Night III.

Tomorrow, I think I'm done with slashers, and I feel like it's time to restore some dignity back to Unseen Terror. Much like before, maybe Criterion can provide me with some quality entertainment?

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 12

Tourists and islanders residing at a nice resort have been randomly disappearing, and local authorities can not seem to figure out how or why. Suddenly, the....the....

Okay. During the seven years that I have been doing this marathon, I have never quit watching any of the flicks that I consciously pick to be featured. 1979's Up from the Depths, which is yet another "natural" horror flick that exists solely because of Jaws' success, came the closest out of any of these to finally breaking me down. Every time that I got up to accomplish something productive for the day, I had to do my absolute damnedest to convince myself to come back to it. I got up to eat macaroni and cheese for lunch (healthy food, how does it work?), grab a prescription for a sick family member, and do a large load of laundry. Each moment could be considered a "distraction" from my reviewing process, but I cared so little about returning to finish this sorry excuse for a production.


Trying to pick out the biggest flaw found during Up from the Depths' running time is like trying to choose which puddle of vomit you wish to lick. Maybe its worst aspect was the extraordinarily lazy and laughable acting or the dialogue that seems like it was written on a bar napkin in the span of four hours. I felt so terrible for top star Sam Bottoms (Apocalypse Now, The Last Picture Show) having to be stuck with such dreadful material and dialogue, but in my opinion, he didn't get the worst end of the stick. Nope, that unfortunate honor belongs to director Charles B. Griffith (a longtime ally and cohort of B-movie giant Roger Corman), who also wrote notable cinematic releases like Death Race 2000 and the original Little Shop of Horrors. According to interviews that were conducted before his passing in 2007, the entire experience of writing, shooting, and finalizing Up from the Depths was a real nightmare, and he felt that Corman gave it to him as punishment (for what I'm not sure). The idea to retool and re-release the flick as a comedy came up as well, but it seems as though the man did not get his wish.

A very tiny part of me feels rotten for not giving this a proper summation of my thoughts, but seeing how little effort they clearly put into Up from the Depths, I feel that I should return the favor myself by only giving half a shit when discussing it. Aside from the sheer cheapness of the entire thing (this creature's design could have been improved by just having it be a hand puppet ala Lamb Chop), its most interesting fact comes from the revelation that it played on a double bill alongside of David Cronenberg's The Brood. So yes, let this sink in for a bit: a movie that was recently handpicked to be part of the esteemed Criterion Collection was featured alongside of a picture that is currently ranked at 2.6 on the Internet Movie Database. If there was ever the cinematic equivalent of a Minus Five Stars match (shoutout to Bryan Alvarez of F4W), this shamefully awful, boring, tedious piece of crap would be it. A Blu-Ray of the feature is (unfortunately) readily available for purchase from Scream! Factory, and as luck would have it, the film comes packaged with its very loose remake titled Demon of Paradise. And no, I will not be reviewing that aforementioned picture. I think I need a break from ocean-dwelling creatures, thank you very much.



Though I have absolutely no desire to ever revisit this turd again in the foreseeable future, it did get me thinking about something else that came up from the depths. In fact, for tomorrow's entry, the star of said film is thirty stories high, breathing fire, and has its head in the sky......

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 5

Curious about the reports of a flying saucer being spotted near Mars, a group of Japanese and American explorers set out on a journey into the furthest reaches of space. Once they have arrived, an unknown alien barge sprays the ship with something unidentifiable, which tempts the collective to gather some cells to take back to Earth for studying. After some time has passed, one spore from the sample grows into a colossal creature dubbed "Guilala" that promptly sets out to destroy Tokyo. Frightened and amazed, our resident scientists are now left to ponder about how to properly combat this new threat before the planet is left in ruins.



Well, you can't say that this small portion of Unseen Terror is ending on a high note. Luckily, it isn't going out with a whimper either. The fact of the matter is that the oddly-titled The X from Outer Space (released in its native country as Giant Space Monster Guilala), the first venture into Kaiju Eiga from a very respected veteran film studio, is perhaps one of the strangest, most unique, and indescribably wacky entries into this niche subgenre that has lasted now for more than sixty years. It is regarded as a true "love it or hate it" type of flick. Yet, after finishing it for day five of Unseen Terror, I am still not fully convinced that I know where I stand on it.


The longest running distributor and producers of Japanese cinema (their history runs back to the late 1800s), Shochiku decided that it would be better late than never to jump right into the "Giant Monster" field that seemed to be a big hit with audiences spread across the globe. After all, these films didn't cost the most amount of money to get off the ground and complete (save for specific ones like Destroy All Monsters), and the monster didn't need to look revolutionary so long as you just had it wrecking everything in sight. In those aspects, The X from Outer Space simultaneously knocks it out of the park and stumbles immensely. The technical and artistic side of things are certainly not up to the standards set by long gone geniuses such Eiji Tsuburaya, nor is Guilala a revolutionary addition to the Kaiju mythos. For crying out loud, most of his design resembles that of a rejected Super Sentai villain crossed with a rubber chicken (can't argue with The Golden Turkey Awards for pointing out the latter's similarity years ago), and his roars of anger sound akin to an overgrown, wailing baby. Like Godzilla, he's also attracted to nuclear energy, consuming it to help fuel his wrath. And yet, whenever he decides to feast, it honestly appeared as though he may have been taking a dump.


The score that precedes his first appearance and permeates throughout isn't helping matters either. The X from Outer Space boasts one of the most bizarre, ill-fitting soundtracks that I have been a witness to in some time. You can hear faint hints of jazz and lounge music any time that the main characters are flying their ship or traveling from one location to the other, and if you had told me that any particular piece would go on to reappear in some sort of pornographic series based in another country, I would have not been surprised whatsoever. It's a far cry from the bombastic and grandiose songs composed by the (now) legendary Akira Ifukube. Oddly enough, some of the more normal features that stand out come from the cast of humans. Supporting actress Peggy Neal, one of several Americans chosen to be in this production, is the most interesting or developed of the characters. Mind you, she doesn't have anything that puts her in the same league as some of the genre's more memorable leading women (Kumi Mizuno and Yuriko Hoshi), but she at least seems to be fully on board with the project. I can not say the same for her fellow Western costars though, as some of their acting further helps proves my theory that save for people such as Nick Adams (Invasion of Astro Monster) and Don Frye (Godzilla: Final Wars), most Caucasian performers that sign on to star in Japanese movies end up being one of, if not THE very worst parts of them.


Before I summarize my thoughts overall, I feel that I should mention something in regards to yesterday's picture Gappa: it was originally conceptualized as a parody of the entire genre, but was eventually reimagined as a straight-forward movie instead. Fascinatingly enough, this appears to be the opposite case for Guilala's first foray into the field. And no, I did not stutter. Over forty years later, he would actually resurface in the aptly-titled The Monster X Strikes Back/Attack the G8 Summit, which IS apparently treated as a sendup of kaiju and tokusatsu treats alike. The best compliment, and coincidentally the best description that you can give The X from Outer Space is that it is a weird, flawed experiment that stands out in the admittedly overcrowded period of the Kaiju boom that was at its peak in the second half of the 1960s (this predated the release of aforementioned entry Gappa by less than a whole month). It is the definition of a "get a hold of something strong and watch with your friends" kind of film. Any sort of addition, be it related to friends or beverages, may just help you get through some of the slower parts without nearly falling asleep (our antagonist doesn't pop up on screen until the forty-six minute mark). If you are of the variety that needs to see any and every flick that stars grown men in gimmicked rubber suits crushing toys beneath their feet, The X from Outer Space can be viewed for free on YouTube, and is available on DVD via Criterion.



No, you did not read that last sentence incorrectly. In 2007, the revered home video company launched Eclipse, which was conceived to help cover and promote the more obscure and arguably seldom-wanted releases that were desired by perhaps a very niche audience. This version also includes the original Japanese audio and liner notes that presumably just consist of the word "WHY" being used repeatedly for several paragraphs. It's especially amusing that X is packaged in a set dubbed "When Horror Came to Shochiku," as it is the only movie in the collection that appears to be anything but frightening and is more in line with C-level science fiction and fantasy.



Then again, maybe you ARE scared of giant, scaly chicken men and just don't know it yet.




Tomorrow, the monsters are thankfully going back into hibernation for a little while, as we need a break to come back to reality. But with the 1990 entry that is coming up, can we be so sure as to what is real and what is not?

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 4

A small group of scientists are on their way to the mysterious Obelisk Island, which has been eyed as a future tourist resort by one Mr. Funazu, owner of the successful "Playmate Magazine." Upon arrival, the collective is greeted with love and respect by the area's natives, though one of the youngest, a boy named Saki, warns members of the crew to stay away from one forbidden area of the land. After doing some digging around, two men stumble into a cavern and happen upon a rather unusual discovery: a giant egg, which a large unknown animal hatches from shortly afterwards. Though Saki and the islanders beg for the scientists to just leave this discovery alone and let it reside in peace, they still insist on taking it back to Japan for show and for studying. Unsurprisingly, the baby's parents rise from the waters beneath the island's volcano, destroying anything in their path in the pursuit of saving their child from the hands of curious experimenters and power-hungry businessmen.

Story time (yet again): my history with Japan's Gappa: The Triphibian Monster, a one-off picture from a company that had never previously experimented with giant monster movies, comes not from perusing message boards, nor from friends or cohorts who would recommend it to me if I had nothing better to do. No, the first mentioning I had noticed came from Michael Medved's second book in his now-defunct series titled "The Golden Turkey Awards," which highlighted the best of the worst in cinema before websites such as CollegeHumor and YouTube made it easier for you to determine and search out such a thing. They had specific categories set up to single out special absurd moments of particular pictures, such as "Worst Rodent Movie," which would go to Food of the Gods, or "Worst Casting" for John Wayne as Genghis Khan (yikes). They were never necessarily kind to flicks that you categorize as Kaiju Eiga, but it never bothered me as I knew that I enjoyed these pictures, and in the end, that was what truly mattered.

So, the screenshots and brief descriptions of Gappa, which would be released straight to television in the U.S. rather than to theaters (and was renamed in some circles as Monster From a Prehistoric Planet), made it out to look like the bottom of the barrel when it came to this type of stuff. After sitting through the movie, however, I feel as if some of this bashing was slightly unwarranted, though not without some sort of merit or reasoning. Yes, there are some downright cringe-inducing moments to be found throughout, but given that I have sat through a rather large assortment of films in this subgenre (including some with significantly larger budgets), it is far more watchable than it has any right to be.


Right off the bat, the first thing that I noticed about Gappa was its eerie similarities to other creature features released during the same decade. The plot is essentially plagiarized from previous Unseen Terror entry Gorgo. with the concept of an infant monster being stolen by foolish/greedy humans, which in turn leads to the parent(s) coming to annihilate anything in their path so that they may finally get their child back to them safe and sound. The concept of the monsters not being fully evil, as well as the island natives worshipping the behemoth as some sort of deity, is also taken from the original version of Mothra. You can't convince me that all of this was coincidental, as both of those projects were released six years prior during the first half of 1961, and were relatively big hits commercially and critically. Still, in the case of the former, you'll have to trust me when I say that it is so incredibly strange to see any Japanese studio rip off someone else for a change.

That studio in question deserves some mentioning as well. I suppose that the Nikkatsu Corporation was hoping that this would receive the same levels of success and love as Godzilla or Daei's own rival monster Gamera, but seeing as this was their sole entry into the field of "man in a rubber suit runs amok," I would say that in that aspect, they failed. They would sort of rebound by going on to produce, promote, and distribute a large portion of pornographic films, which has a certain demand in their native country given how strict they can be with subjects relating to sex or drugs. Bizarre as it may have been, it did help keep the company afloat until they were forced to declare bankruptcy in 1993 (three years later, some of their shares would be temporarily acquired by Namco). The efforts put forth are commendable though. The monster effects are done and headed by Akira Watanabe, a former employee of Toho, who helps craft some fun fight sequences with the military. None of it is likely to blow you away, but considering that Gappa's budget was most likely very small, they are fairly decent. They are entertaining enough to almost make you forget about the look chosen for the Gappas themselves.


Speaking of that, let's talk about the design for our titular beast(s), and to an extent, their much, much tinier adversaries. Perhaps in concept, they were hoping for something a little similar to Daei Studios' villainous creation Gyaos or to Toho's iconic Rodan, but what they ended up with was a trio of creatures that are akin in look and sound to that of, well, a giant parrot mixed with one of Toho's more mediocre creations called Gabara. Then again, Gappa actually predates All Monsters Attack/Godzilla's Revenge by two years, so maybe who influenced who is actually up for debate. They are quite expressive-looking bird/lizard/whatchamafucks, and the suits' abilities and facial animations get the chance to show off a bit during the final fifteen minutes of the movie. The human protagonists are actually fairly fun, if not a bit clichéd (minus one shipmate, who was voiced to sound like someone in a Three Stooges tribute act). I'm not sure about how much of that influence in the writing came from the states or from Japan, but it's a nice bonus considering how boring or offensive the past few entries' human casts have been.

Absurdity and an unabashed interest in the sillier side of these movies plays a great part in why I enjoyed this far more than I thought I would have (though anything would have been an improvement over yesterday's choice for the blog). I don't fully believe that Gappa is an essential Kaiju flick, but it is nowhere near as terrible as some historians have made it out to be. It makes for a breezy viewing experience, and with the right company or added substances (not that I would ever encourage that. *wink wink nudge nudge*), it can provide you with an adequate amount of entertainment. Hell, I'm amazed that Gappa never made its way into the realm of Mystery Science Theater 3000, as the hilariously bad dubbing alone is just ripe for riffing. Given that the picture is floating around in the public domain, obtaining a copy of this one should not be difficult to do at all. Alpha Video has a DVD release out that can be purchased for pocket change, and Mill Creek Entertainment has distributed it multiple times throughout the years as part of their well-known package deals. To my pleasant surprise, Tokyo Shock also managed to put the film out on DVD several years ago, which included liner notes and the original Japanese language track.



But, if you think that I'm paying a whopping thirty-five dollars for a motion picture that also features a young Japanese boy running around in what could be constituted as blackface, you would be mistaken.



I would only pay thirty-four for that.




Tomorrow, my concern that this Kaiju boom will crash and burn may be fully realized. And for the first/last time, we venture forward into outer space for the final entry in the block. God(zilla) help me...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 2

Scientist Dr. Edward Pretorious and his assistant Dr. Crawford Tillinghast have completed work on a device nicknamed "The Resonator," a machine that triggers accelerated growth in the pineal gland of the brain. Though it allows the party to perceive things that the average human would never normally see, it also brings about nightmarish visions of demonic creatures, some of which attack and murder Edward. Having been sent to a mental asylum for the accusations of murdering his mentor, Crawford is soon released into custody of Dr. Katherine McMichaels, who believes his bizarre story about the events after a CAT scan shows that his pineal gland is indeed growing, and who wants to witness the effects of such a contraption. Accompanied by the detective who investigated Edward's own demise, the trio return to the home of The Resonator, but what they will discover is a familiar, if not nightmarishly warped reality that no one could have ever imagined existed in any plane.



Going into my viewing of Stuart Gordon's From Beyond (based on the H.P. Lovecraft story of the same name), my knowledge of the film was a bare minimum. It was relegated to one trailer on Youtube, numerous writeups and video reviews from respected horror publications and fanatics, and a quick read of the source material quite some months ago. Still, I've been accused of having the memory of a goldfish when it comes to most important things, so even those tidbits were disappearing from my mind. Honestly though, I have discovered that the best means of watching this somewhat obscure cult favorite from 1986 is to go in with as little information as possible.


For starters, I had no idea that the aforementioned Stuart Gordon, he of the legendary Re-Animator fame, was sitting in the director's chair for this production. He's also paired with writer/producer Brian Yuzna, who seemed attached to the hip of Gordon for a good portion of his earlier career before getting to mess with future films such as Honey, I Shrunk The Kids and...um, The Dentist. Then again, once I saw that Jeffrey Combs and Barbara Crampton were our two main leads (both also of Re-Animator fame) it should have been obvious from the start. As bizarre as it may sound, it shocks me that these two never married in real life, especially when you see how natural their chemistry with one another feels every time that they've appeared on screen together. I've professed my love for Mr. Combs and his skills before, so there isn't much else to talk about there, but I've never been completely sold on Ms. Crampton until finally being able to catch her in additional projects in her filmography such as From Beyond and the recently released You're Next. She can convincingly pull off the "smart and sexy" character without having any single person cast doubt towards her way, a combination that is nigh impossible in ANY genre. She's also got one hell of a great scream, which I'm sure she's told on an almost weekly basis by fans of the genre. Ken Foree (Dawn Of The Dead, The Devil's Rejects) also makes an appearance as a third wheel of sort, adding a small handful of darker comedic moments that thankfully help keep the picture grounded. Some might argue that these aren't necessarily required from a Lovecraftian tale, but I believe this can help most viewers stay focused during its running time, especially since the plot is so peculiar and out of this world.


The production and crew work on From Beyond may its strongest, and yet most un-appreciated suit. There's great lighting and camera work that you could only get from niche films released during this decade, with dark pink, purple, and other rarely used colors permeating throughout its (surprisingly short) eighty minute running time, giving it a real dream-like, if not morbidly euphoric feel. Richard Band, brother to Charles Band of Full Moon Features (who serves as executive producer here), composes a beautifully creepy, dark, and often haunting score that only heightens the mood. His body of work also includes Ghoulies, Puppet Master, and previous Unseen Terror favorite TerrorVision, though from what I've seen, those appear to be some of his better works and compositions. The special effects work and skills from John Carl Buechler is something that will very likely stick with me until this year's marathon is over. When someone thinks of the "body horror" tag, which deals with the fear of decay and unusual change, the name that primarily comes to mind is master David Cronenberg (The Fly, The Brood, Videodrome), but Buechler's own ideas are horrific in design, disgustingly unconventional, and worthy of standing side by side with greater giants of the genre (all the more impressive when you take into account that From Beyond was made for approximately $4.5 million). I think it's a shame that talented individuals such as Chris Walas (The Fly) and himself aren't acknowledged for their work in the field as much as other fabulous artists such as Rob Bottin (The Thing) and yesterday's discussed juggernaut Tom Savini are. Then again, some of the green screen or non-speaking creatures, such as the bat-like monstrosity seen in its final act, don't age particularly well. Maybe that's an unfortunate contributing factor.


Mein got. Well, there is no way to beat around the bush or have a proper, professional summary when it comes to my overall thoughts on From Beyond: it is one spectacularly strange, slimy, and fairly grotesque motion picture. It also happens to be, above all else, pretty damn great, unique, and an adaptation that trumps its source material, flying out of the gate like a spirit released from a containment unit in Ghostbusters. For the time being, you can rent Gordon's finished product on Amazon Prime for only a small amount of money ($3.99 for a 48 hour rental of the HD version is remarkably cheap). If you're up to spending a few more dollars, or don't have access to streaming websites, track down the Blu-Ray/DVD combo that was released by home video darlings Scream Factory, as this relic of the latter half of the 1980s is now available in wider distribution that it most likely ever was or ever will be.




Tomorrow is the entry for 1987. To celebrate that, I'll be digging up a favorite of children of the latter half of that decade. Will I dig this "creature battalion" as much as they do? Time will only tell...