I'm choosing to fill a small part of the gray area in my life with random reviews from the realms of cinema, music, and more things that are generally looked down upon by society. And you've chosen to read them apparently.
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!
Gosh. I...….just don't really know what to say about this one. Back in September, I managed to stop by the Vinegar Syndrome table at the Monster Mania convention in Maryland. Sporting one hell of a catalogue, their selection reads like a listing of forbidden fruits and obscure, buried treasures. They cover a mixture of every genre you can think of, including horror, blaxploitation, women-in-prison flicks, old school erotica, and just plain weird cinematic exploits. Based on the plot alone, I felt as though 1971's The Corpse Grinders was calling my name. Cowritten by one of the men who penned classic schlockfest Eegah and directed by Ted Mikels, whose works of the past have influenced people ranging from Quentin Tarantino (citing The Doll Squad as an influence on Kill Bill) to the Mystery Science Theater 3000 crew (Girl in Gold Boots was featured in the tenth season), the synopsis is unlike anything I've seen so far during this marathon. Two men who work for a once-successful cat food company find that they are running low on the necessary ingredients that will keep them in business. Rather than continue to pay for their expensive meats, they strike up a deal with folks at a local graveyard: take the dead bodies, buy them for fifty cents a pound, and grind them down to make the product. Unfortunately, there's a rather nasty side effect: every feline friend that eats their canned goods develops an insatiable taste for human blood.
Running for approximately seventy-three minutes, The Corpse Grinders is one of the shortest pictures that I've watched for this year's Unseen Terror, yet it's undoubtedly the most bizarre (so far). What we have on our hands is your classic, glorified Drive-In or 'B' movie, complete with awkward acting, a hokey premise, moments that are meant to shock but bring about laughter, and a look that doesn't exactly scream "now in theaters everywhere." The performances are very all over the map, with protagonists Sean Kenney (Star Trek) and Monika Kelly giving it their none. The segments involving all the poor saps being attacked by their pets consists of them struggling as a cat just kind of grips their neck like a koala bear, while loud, stock cat sound effects play. It's all so gloriously stupid, but simultaneously amusing to no end. Sadly, there are quite a few lulls in the movie here and there, but the hilarious dialogue (particularly from the cemetery caretaker and his cantankerous wife) and occasional cat mauling prevent it from being boring.
If you're still reading this review after I ran down the plot of The Corpse Grinders, then there is a strong possibility that I don't know what else I can say to sell you on it. It's yet another "grab a beer and relax with your friends" type of motion picture that seemed to come out in droves around this time period, and if you're looking for something to add to any upcoming weekend-long marathon, then open up some canned cat food and let this smelly monstrosity into your life. For such a low budget flick, the Blu-Ray from Vinegar Syndrome is handled rather delicately, yet packed with some very solid extras. The 2K transfer looks surprisingly good, though there is a warning from Vinegar Syndrome after you hit "play" that mentions that they did the best job possible considering that there was some previously lost negatives of the film, so some parts appear more polished than others. There's an excellent commentary track provided by fellow filmmaker Elijah Drenner, whose documentary American Grindhouse has been on my radar for a while, but has yet to make its way into my home. Additionally, there's also a very fun interview from 2007 with the late Ted Mikels, who despite having such an incredibly strange body of work, comes across as a very warm, enthusiastic fellow who just adores the world of movies. He also has one wicked mustache, which was somehow the least surprising aspect of this release. You can snag the disc from most websites for about the same amount of money that I paid for it, and it's available for streaming on Amazon Prime.
Also, not that I'm speaking from experience, but I'm fairly certain that if you're going to dispose of a body by shoving them into a meat grinder, you should remove their clothing first. Just saying.
Tomorrow, I need something a bit more "sane" to bring me back to earth. Maybe Poland can provide me with some exquisite material?
Ahhh, I suppose it's time to watch something new that should lift my spirits. Outside of one very odd Frank Henenlotter piece, I don't think I've watched any "true" horror-comedies for this year's marathon. So, per the recommendation of various sources, I say let's kick off the twentieth day with a bang!
Well then.
Sure, this isn't the first blunder that I've made while I was assembling a list for Unseen Terror. And you can make an argument that this project in question can technically qualify as a "zombie" movie, or even a take on the storyline found in The Wasp Woman. At the end of the day though, Robert Zemeckis' 1992 hit Death Becomes Her barely sports any sort of ties to the horror genre. It's too late to turn back now though, so let's get on with this review. The plot revolves around a pair of female rivals named Madeline (Meryl Streep), who is an egotistical, conniving actress and Helen (Goldie Hawn), an aspiring writer whose career has yet to take off. Several years ago, the former effectively helped ruin the latter's life by not only taking her fiancé (played by Bruce Willis), but driving her to obesity and utter insanity. After spending time in a mental ward, Helen feigns rehabilitation, and she finds herself released on good behavior, though she is obviously plotting revenge on the woman who stole everything from her. Madeline, whose marriage and acting career have certainly seen better days, attends a book release party thrown by Helen, and is shocked to find that she looks as youthful and gorgeous as she did back when they first met. Dumbfounded, she digs around to discover the secret behind this, and eventually comes into contact with a woman (Blue Velvet's Isabella Rossellini) who offers her a "youth" potion that will promise her everlasting beauty. Unbeknownst to both Madeline and Helen though, are the very morbid consequences that come with drinking this magical concoction.
First off, I don't feel like it's terribly necessary to discuss just how good our two female leads are. Streep in particular is just so damn good at adapting to whatever genre you ask her to take part in (how she hasn't done something like a dark, psychological horror piece yet is beyond me), and Hawn just has naturally great comedic timing, body language, and delivery with every little quip or jab she's been given. Perhaps who took me by surprise the most was a man whose body of work over the past several years has been so lousy that it made me forget just how solid he used to be: Bruce f'n Willis. As we watch Madeline and Helen descend into madness, you begin to realize that he's one of the only halfway decent human beings that is left in the horribly strange world found in Death Becomes Her. A former plastic surgeon who has been reduced to being a mere mortician due to his alcoholism and frustrating marriage, it's hard not to feel for the guy when you see that nobody really cares for his wellbeing, but rather strive for his gifted hands.
Beyond the acting, Death Becomes Her contains great makeup work, and some very solid, award-winning (though slightly dated) visual effects. A particular sequence involving Streep and what happens with her body after she has been pushed down a long flight of stairs looks pretty great, as does one scene involving Hawn and a "hole" of hers. Both are likely to elicit some great laughs from those who have a pretty sick sense of humor. Most of the flick's first and second act are peppered with some great, darkly comedic moments that work so well because of the talented cast, but it does feel like some steam is lost during the third. Don't get me wrong, the final twenty-or-so minutes of this Zemeckis vehicle aren't bad per se, but they're predictable and a bit clunky. Luckily, the bits at the very end are undoubtedly some of the aspects that will stick with you long after the credits have rolled.
Is this one a horror-comedy? Is it just a dark fantasy with a wicked, twisted sense of humor? Well, whatever you prefer to call Death Becomes Her, it's quite the entertaining ride. I firmly believe that unless you are absolutely anti-Hollywood, there's quite a bit of material to enjoy here. As of this time, this early 90s fan favorite can be watched on Starz-On-Demand, and Scream! Factory released it on what is reported to be a pristine-looking Blu-Ray. Give this one a whirl.
Well, I figured that for the following day, I must atone for this potential mistake. So, per a quick perusing around the internet, I settled on a newer, and what some call a "proper" horror-comedy.
For the past several months, it appeared as though the trailer for Slice, the feature-length debut from writer/director Austin Vesely, was THE talk of the town in the horror community. Me though? I just never got around to watching it due to laziness on my part. Because of that, I went into this motion picture completely blind with no expectations whatsoever. The very first thing that I contemplated after finishing Slice was turning Death Becomes Her back on. After that, it was popping my Blu-Ray of Brain Damage back into my disc drive. After THAT, I sincerely debated just waiting to review this for something akin to a "rest of the bunch" post later on. But rather than delay, I'll just get this one out of the way.
The story of Slice is a bit of a messy one. In essence, it's a murder mystery centered around pizza delivery drivers being slaughtered, with one of the victim's ex-girlfriend (Zazie Beetz of Deadpool 2) pushing forward in her investigation, and a slew of accusations being thrown at various culprits, including lycanthropes, drug peddlers, and ghosts. Perhaps a disgraced ex-Chinese takeout worker (who also happens to be a werewolf) has something to do with the whole ordeal though. So, yeah. That sure sounds like a wacky, almost cartoonish premise does it not? Well, despite sporting some fairly original ideas, Slice does feel like the classic example of style over substance. And yet, even the "style" aspect isn't particularly good either. Quirks like having the recently-deceased constantly hanging around people at all times like it's not a big deal are clever, but we've seen this same thing done in better movies over the past few decades.
What really brings Slice down several notches is just how much good material could have come from everything that we see on screen. Zazie Beetz proved that she can be pretty damn funny and commanding this past summer as Domino, but her character's personality traits are seemingly limited to being irritable and "I'm out for revenge." Performers such as Paul Scheer and Chris Parnell are comedians that we should treasure and never waste, and they damn sure try their best with the lines that they're delivering. Hell, even Chance the Rapper, making his film debut here shows a lot of promise. What it all boils down to here is the source material (a.k.a. the script) being utterly lousy. Very few, if any of the jokes land and most are structured the same way that a "laugh track" TV comedy show is. The horror aspects don't feel particularly scary, or come close to anything resembling even mild tension. Worst of all, the entire experience just feels far more boring than something with this much talent ever should. On more than a few occasions, I thought that this could do much better as a television series. In the hands of someone with far more experience and a little supervision, the sheer absurdity and hidden metaphors that they try to insert into its running time could work wonders instead of stumble around.
While I have to give Slice points for originality, the film as a whole just feels like wasted potential. I'm sure that the late night stoner audiences will bolster this picture's legacy a smidge, but for me, it's a shockingly dull miss from a company that is usually very reliable when it comes to quality releases (still love you though A24). I'm going to be legitimately shocked if I remember much of anything about this one when Halloween comes around next week. Still, if you want to give this one a try and join in any future discussions about it, Slice is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.
Tomorrow, I feel the need to spice things up. Let's see what some "Vinegar" can do....
October 31, 1978: after escaping from Smith's Grove Sanitarium, serial killer Michael Myers murders several people before being stopped by a combination of young Laurie Strode and his psychiatrist Dr. Samuel Loomis. Forty years later, Michael remains in a mental ward and Laurie has turned into a PTSD-stricken recluse, which has caused a rift between her and her family. Two podcasters arrive at Laurie's abode to interview her about the experience, and after informing her of the news that Michael is due to be transferred to a maximum security prison, try to convince her to see the masked madman one more time as an attempt to get him to speak. Even though they feel it would act as "closure" of sorts, she declines, as she wants nothing more than to finally kill him when he inevitably escapes and returns to their small town to kill again. As fate would have it, it isn't long until the news reports that the bus which was to take Michael to his new penitentiary has crashed...
"Hello Michael..."
Those two words, as simple as they are, have more power in them than the average moviegoer thinks. There has been a rather lengthy break between the release of 2018's Halloween and the last entry in this franchise to receive a theatrical release: Rob Zombie's maligned Halloween II, which I admittedly have yet to finish due to my disdain for its predecessor. Still, when news broke of a new motion picture being developed for release, I know that some fans like myself were intrigued, if not extremely cautious. Then, a plethora of additional information was released over the course of several months, including the presence of Mr. John Carpenter as both executive producer AND composer, and in what must have been the biggest shock of all, the return of Jamie Lee Curtis as iconic heroine Laurie Strode. The recipe was there for a return to form for a franchise that had been bogged down by a string of misfires and divisive sequels. Thankfully, much like Michael Myers himself does throughout most of these flicks, we can all breathe easy.
As I'm sure that most people who are reading this review (all ten of you) have heard, 2018's Halloween is a direct sequel to the original John Carpenter classic, which effectively erases every other entry in this franchise from continuity. A ballsy move to make for sure, but not an entirely foreign concept (look to Superman Returns as an example, and keep your eye out for William Gibson's Alien 3-related comic book that's set for release very soon). Personally, I don't have a problem with this whatsoever, especially if it means that we are lucky enough to see Jamie Lee Curtis return in a starring role. I'll stand by my opinion that Laurie Strode is the quintessential "final girl," though when we first meet this iteration of the character, she has done more than grow up. Gone is the innocent, relatively pure young lady who was barely able to fight off the attacks of a lunatic, and in her place is an alert, fully prepared woman. Curtis is just on fire here, turning in a performance that feels slightly similar to what Linda Hamilton did with Sarah Connor in Terminator 2. This is a human being who while possibly crazed in her own sort of way, has been through an ordeal that could traumatize at least 95% of people and change them for the worse. She's backed up this time around by an equally strong cast, including Judy Greer (Arrested Development) as her daughter and Andi Matichak (Orange is the New Black) as her granddaughter. Greer is usually on point, though I feel like it took me quite a bit of time to warm up to her considering that she seems relatively unenthused for the first few scenes that we see her in. Matichak's body of work is noticeably smaller than that of her costars, but her mannerisms and ability to elicit genuine fear (one sequence involving her in the back of a cop car will cause your chest to tighten) makes me hope that we see more from her in the future. We're also introduced to Dr. Ranbir Sartain, who serves as this film's new Dr. Loomis (so much so that Strode blatantly calls him that), and even though I felt like all he was doing was emulating a protagonist from the past, there are some fascinating aspects to his character that will take you by surprise.
To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Halloween doesn't skip out on the blood either. One thing to admire about Michael's (portrayed again by original actors Nick Castle and Tony Moran, as well as series newcomer James Jude Courtney) entire existence is just how "human" he appears to be in comparison to his slasher brethren. Well, at least if we discount some of the weirder shit that happens in the later entries, but I digress. He's often been compared to a force of nature, and this time around his ruthlessness is akin to that of a hurricane. On more than a couple of occasions, I managed to belt out the occasional "Jesus!" when he was disposing of any poor soul in his path, and the average theater attendee could be quite shocked seeing that the man who sat in the director's chair for Pineapple Express had this kind of brutal imagination inside of his head. There are throwbacks and nods to slayings from the o.g. movie, and some of the newer, gorier methods will probably find their way onto the next YouTube video that you scour for during those late evenings. It does beg the question as to just how bloody strong someone like this could be considering his age and how lengthy his internment was, but I'll just go with the obvious answer: it's a god damn horror movie. Besides, if the filmmakers had tried to tell the audience that he was constantly working out when not contemplating revenge, you would have either accused them of ripping off Cape Fear or just being silly. All of this morbidity comes to a head in an absolutely tense third act which could rival anything found in this year's horror standouts. All of these aforementioned moments are accompanied by an outstanding soundtrack provided by the wonderfully talented John Carpenter himself, and I'd be rather shocked if those who end up disliking this picture came out saying that they hated the music too. It's electrifying, creepy, and perfect for your next horror-themed get-together.
Is this newest entry in the Halloween franchise perfect? Absolutely not. In addition to those quips that I alluded to, there is some typical "stupid people in slashers" logic that pops up, though that's the norm with even the best of the bunch in this subgenre, and some folks might get a little irritated with just how much referencing there is to the films of yesteryear. However, 2018's Halloween still feels like the direct sequel that longtime, patient fans have deserved for so, so long. We've had a spectacular year for horror so far (and there's still a lot more to come), and David Gordon Green's first real foray into the horror genre comes out swinging......er, better make that "slashing." It's a damn fine reason to go to your local cineplex and be reminded of the power of scarier cinema, and also a firm reason for why I can never stray away from this morbid genre. Because if older properties can be rescued from the bottom of the barrel and given better treatment, then why stop?
Speaking of that, if there's any justice in the world, Dimension will finally let the rights for Hellraiser lapse as they did this, and we can see the world of the Cenobites restored to its former glory. I'll be waiting...
Tomorrow, I feel as though we need something a bit more lighthearted, so let's take a trip back to the first half of the 90s, shall we?
Alright, you know the deal. Strange hours at work, needing sleep, etc. Let's get on with it.
Oddly enough, the seventeenth day of this year's Unseen Terror did not kick off with my original choice for the marathon, and that was solely due to a last minute discovery. After a lengthy shift at my job, I had time to visit one of my local theaters and got a chance to rewatch a film that I had surprisingly not seen in quite a long time: the original Halloween from 1978. As I've stated before in the past, I'm not sure what else can be said about movies that are universally beloved by fans of this genre, and director John Carpenter's breakthrough hit is no exception. It's the closest thing to "perfect" that the slasher genre can ever hope to be, and even then it's far more tactical and well made than nearly every other picture it has inspired. Not much else to add to this one, so let's move on to something peculiar from Japan, shall we?
My familiarity with writer/director Sion Sono is not too great. I'm more than aware of his infamous film Suicide Club, but have yet to sit through the flick in its entirety. His only piece of work that I've managed to complete was 2015's extraordinarily hyper-violent and confusing Tag, which features arguably the best opening ten minutes that I've seen in any Japanese film, and also the most befuddling final act that I've seen in a very long time. Thankfully, Exte is a lot more normal compared to that flick, though considering that it precedes Tag by a good eight years, that's not entirely surprising. The plot revolves around an aspiring hairdresser named Yuko (portrayed by Chiaki Kuriyama of Battle Royale and Kill Bill fame) who begins to buy hair extensions off of a strange man who visits salons. Unbeknownst to her, these come from the body of a dead girl that he has stolen, who despite having passed away, continues to grow beautiful hair. In addition to this, everyone in possession of these locks can be driven to madness, or even murdered when acquiring them.
I went in to Exte (released over here as Exte: Hair Extensions) fully expecting some sort of odd body horror-inspired tale that would sport some rather frightening visuals. Indeed, I did get those in spades, but the most strongest aspects of Sono's script and style comes from the drama between Kuriyama's character and her older, capricious sister Kiyomi, who treats her eight-year-old daughter Mami like absolute dirt. It gets to a point where the child is essentially dumped at the flat of Yuko and her roommate, who can notice signs of emotional and physical abuse in Mami. You genuinely care for these protagonists and heroines, and fear for their own safety, be it from the world of the living or the dead when things begin to get bleak. That isn't to say that Exte is completely devoid of personality though, because it also gets to be weirdly comedic (bordering on parodic) at times. I do recall there being a select amount of moments throughout Tag that seemed to come out of nowhere and didn't fit the tone of that flick at all. Here, it's scenes involving the villain (note: I can now regrettably add "trichophiliac" to my list of words that I never wanted to know) breaking out into song while in his morgue and singing to a woman's corpse.
Though he doesn't exclusively provide content for this subgenre, Sono, for better or for worse, is trying his damnedest to do something different in the realm of J-Horror, which as far as I could tell hasn't been setting the world on fire as much as it did over a decade ago. Infusing absurd humor and a good family-driven storyline keeps movies like Exte fresh, and I'm recommending that those of you searching for something out of the ordinary go track this one down. However, if you're going to watch it, I highly encourage that you seek out the legitimate DVD released by Tokyo Shock, as the copy that I watched on a streaming service didn't exactly look like the most pristine of transfers.
Well, seeing as how I've now checked off yet another staple from my list qualifications, what do you say? Should we get yet another one done?
No, this isn't some made-for-TV reboot of Teen Wolf......wait, that actually happened? And it was on for HOW long?! Well shit.
Anyway, I've become accustomed to binging a few episodes here and there every year from the 1995 television series Goosebumps, and though the results have been rather mixed, they still make for a quick watch and are a bit of a breather for me in terms of not having to think too hard when crafting reviews. Before I ruined my own joke, I was going to point out that the screencap seen above is from "My Hairiest Adventure," which is the eleventh episode of the show's first season. I have zero memory of the book that this was based on, and truth be told, I'm not even sure that I got around to reading it. It took me approximately two minutes to realize that this was probably not a bad thing though, and it was also immediately noticeable that this was going to be the most "90s" of the batch that I would watch for day eighteen, as the only thing it's missing are a few "whoas" and a skater kid. The plot concerns a boy named Larry and his group of friends who discover an old bottle of tanning cream that seems to have rather strange side effects (i.e. hair growing in odd places) after they apply some to their bodies.
*sigh* Okay, before you ask: no, they do NOT make any puberty jokes in this entire episode. This was a show aimed primarily at preteens after all. Speaking of the kids though, I'm not terribly surprised that none of them went on to do much of anything after this. The character of Larry is just plain irritating, and the decision to have him narrate most of the story himself like a juvenile Ferris Bueller makes us wish for the end credits to appear as fast as humanly possible. This, combined with a painfully slow buildup and slightly predictable twist, makes what could've been a fun take on growing up into a fairly bland tale that was one laugh track short of being a cancelled Disney channel show. Meh.
Season two's "Attack of the Jack-O'-Lanterns" was up next, and unlike the previously mentioned ditty discussed above, I do vaguely recall this book, and recognized that this was referenced in the newest motion picture that's still out in theaters as of this writing. This time, the story is focused on Drew and Walker, who are sick of local rivals trying to constantly scare them. When Drew's friends from out of town visit, they offer to help them get a bit of revenge on Halloween night. Everything goes awry when two large beings with Jack-O'-Lanterns for heads come into the picture though.
The most interesting aspect of this episode is the presence of future voiceover favorite Erica Luttrell, who would go on to garner much attention for her performances in cartoons like Steven Universe and assorted DC Comics-related media. It also sports a fairly creepy (at least if you're a kid and utterly paranoid) nightmare sequence where an old couple locks trick-or-treaters in one of their rooms, and the design of the "Pumpkinheads" themselves look fairly cool, even if they have some Rita Repulsa-levels of cheese in their mannerisms. Couple that with the most ridiculous ending possible, and you have a kooky, silly little installment that could take a few of the younger viewers by surprise. Slightly dated, but not bad at all.
If I was going to wrap up this mini-marathon, I figured that it had to be done in style. And if I was unable to find such a thing in an old show like this, I could at least dig around to find an adaptation of one of my favorite stories from the books. Lo and behold, I came across "The Girl Who Cried Monster," which is the fourth episode of the series overall and considering how much I enjoyed the printed material that this was based on, surprised that I hadn't watched before. It's a fairly basic concept: Lucy Dark is obsessed with all things spooky and strange, and when she decides to stay after closing hours at her small town's library, she witnesses the librarian transform into a hideous creature. Rushing home, she tells her family, who don't believe a word of hers. Hell, she's tried to pull pranks like this on her younger brother, so why would they fall for it?
First thing's first: it's a damn shame that the actress who plays Lucy (Deborah Scorsone) appears to have not done anything else after this episode aired. She packs quite a bit of charm, and I think she could've at least been the next Katharine Isabelle if she continued working. On the opposite end of that spectrum, "monster" actor Eugene Lipinski, who would later appear in the television adaptation of forgotten (for a reason) 90s relic Animorphs, has quite an extensive body of work. He's also a hoot to watch, even if he seems to be going for a poor man's mixture of Donald Plesence (Halloween) and Jeffrey Combs (Re-Animator). The makeup effects on his transformed state look like something that you'd see as the first presentation on Face Off, but I'm willing to cut them some slack since it is an older children's show after all. What makes this story stand out is the surprisingly morbid ending, which is equal parts cheeky and dark. It's the most well-balanced of these three tales, and honestly one of the better episodes that I've watched from the series over the course of several years.
Tomorrow....well, look at this weekend's new releases. You can imagine what the review will be for.
Anyway, this is going to be a bit of a quick one because of the fact that I have to work in a few hours. Plus, with a premise like this one, does it need a lengthy review?
Young couple Steve and Eileen move to a small apartment in New York, and despite the fact that their new abode is far from ideal, it's probably the most affordable one that they can find in early 90s pictures. The only appealing aspect to the place seems to be the refrigerator that immediately catches Steve's eye. Over time, the two begin to realize that there's something a bit off about the household appliance, and it's eventually discovered that not only is the fridge seemingly sentient and prone to murder, but also serves as a gateway to hell itself. So yeah, The Refrigerator.…...suffice to say, this won't be winning any major awards any time soon. Hell, the damn thing isn't even out on DVD (this was another bootleg purchase from Monster Mania). I knew what I was getting into with this early 90s straight-to-video turd. And yet, to my surprise, there's a tiny little part of me that enjoyed this more than I thought I would.
Anyway, despite advertising itself as a ridiculous, gory horror-comedy (at least if you're going by the premise and tagline of "No Survivors. Only Leftovers."), there's more supernatural shenanigans going on in The Refrigerator than one would expect. Its evil influence starts to rub off on Steve, who begins to see miniaturized human beings whenever he opens it and looks inside, and exhibits more aggressive, snappy behavior than usual. Female lead Eileen (played by Heather Graham-lookalike Julia McNeal) has dreams that she's being tied down for a ritualistic sacrifice, with the titular creation "looking" at her, and has visions of fetuses. Oh, and the refrigerator itself frequently leaks what appears to be blood onto the floor, and has a tendency to lunge at and corner people like a mad dog would. This fucking film man.
All of this leads me to the absolute highlight of this fecal waterslide: Juan the Plumber, played to absolute perfection by Angel Caban. Despite looking more like a motorcycle enthusiast than a repairman, he is just marvelously entertaining. Most of the cast in The Refrigerator seem to be well aware that they're in a completely dense horror-comedy, but you can just tell that he's taking the role that he signed on for (assuming he wasn't blackmailed) and going full camp. How this actor didn't receive some additional work, even in other 'B' movies is beyond me. Julia McNeal is a hoot too, but she can't seem to decide whether to try and be serious (the dialogue between her and either her mom or husband is very strait-laced) or to just give up and go with the flow.
Unfortunately, what brings The Refrigerator down quite a bit is how lacking it is in the "kills" department. Again, you have clearly marketed your motion picture as a ridiculous release (that borders on parody) about an appliance that horribly maims and slaughters people, but during its brief running time, there are barely any bodies that are disposed of. I kept thinking to myself that most of its nastier moments were being saved for the final ten minutes, because I've had quite a few experiences during the years of doing this marathon where that's been the case. And yes, the final moments of The Refrigerator are admittedly zany, and give off some Maximum Overdrive vibes, but making the viewer sit through all of the unnecessary melodrama and moments with a gypsy who seems to love spouting statements that she got from fortune cookies makes you question if all of this was worth it.
This is undoubtedly a piece of garbage, and the fact that it hasn't seen a release on any sort of disc format speaks volumes about its quality as a film. Still, The Refrigerator does have its moments of self-aware absurdness that occasionally leads to funny, bloody results. Fans of entertainingly shitty cinema might want to track this one down and grab their friends (along with a few six packs) for a fun movie night, though I'd say that if you search for a bootleg like I did, don't spend too much money on it.
Tomorrow, I'm gonna be at work for a rather long day, but any stress or pain can always be relieved by a trip to Japan!
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!
With Halloween approaching, young people should be preparing for a night of dressing up, candy, and all-around spooky fun. Well, except for teenagers Sarah, who is struggling to write an essay that will get her into Columbia University, and Sonny, who is dead set on completing the best project for science class that he can muster. During their free afternoons, Sonny and his best friend Sam run a junk collecting business, and receive a call one day from someone wanting them to clean out an abandoned house. After some digging around, they stumble upon a strange artifact: a locked manuscript for what appears to be an unfinished book. The two find the necessary key, and after opening the book, a ventriloquist's dummy suddenly appears behind them. They read from a note in his coat pocket, which brings the object known as "Slappy" to life. It isn't long before this wooden trickster is using his hidden magic to make inanimate objects sentient; intent on creating a terrorizing evening for the entire town.
Back at the end of 2015's Unseen Terror, I skipped out on typing a full review for that year's October release Goosebumps. Based on the series of books written by R.L. Stine, they ate up a good chunk of my childhood, and along with random late night cinematc viewings on stations like the Sci-Fi Channel and Cinemax, I'd credit them for helping to get me into "adult" horror. Though I was incredibly nervous going in, I found the picture to be a very pleasant experience. Despite some issues here and there, it's chocked full of nods to the original novels, and serves as a nice introduction to scarier stories for modern day parents and their children. If you were hesitant to let your kids watch it, I'd say that now is a perfectly good time for them to dive right in.
I can't, however, echo those same bits of enthusiasm for its 2018 sequel.
Goosebumps 2: Haunted Halloween plays out more like the picture that I was afraid the first film would be. It suffers from a lack of almost anything interesting, and judging by the near-silence in the theater that I was in, won't likely please fans or non-fans. The main protagonists have no distinguishing personality traits, and considering how dull the script is, it's hard to blame any of these performers for not being able to do a better job. Cast-wise there are a few recognizable faces that pop up, including Saturday Night Live and 30 Rock alum Chris Parnell and Community's Ken Jeong. Their presence is appreciated, but their screen time is so limited that the comedic talent that we fully know they possess is completely squandered. Even Jack Black, whose surprise appearance was spoiled thanks to newer television spots and trailers, is in the film for a little under five minutes and serves no purpose. And yes, I'm aware that the heroes of the first movie weren't exactly the most well-developed either, but they were working with stronger material and the energy of Black and his colleagues rubbed off on them. This time around, the only big name that these teens hope to have chemistry with is a dummy doing a very poor impersonation of Mark Hamill's Joker.
On the technical side of things, Goosebumps 2 doesn't look completely terrible, but it gives off a very straight-to-video or "made for TV sequel" vibe. There is some very wonky camera work, and the editing leaves you wondering if the people who put together the final product just kind of mixed up what scenes they wanted to be cut. If you're looking for monsters though, those folks behind the scenes certainly wanted to deliver them in droves. Yes, the sight of a gigantic spider made entirely out of balloons is rather cool, as is a cute sequence involving rabid gummy bears, but my god, nothing feels that special when you just throw about twenty different creations into the span of two minutes. Fans of the source material may have fun trying to pick out what some of these beasts are a reference to (any kid who understands Black's joke about Stephen King's It may need better parenting), but it was more entertaining to do with its predecessor. All of that brings me to something which can likely make or break this sequel for the audience: Slappy. While he was definitely important to the plot of the first Goosebumps, he didn't make a full appearance until after a certain amount of time had passed. This time around, he's (re)introduced within the first ten minutes or so, and they feel the need to suffocate us with his presence. His one-liners, quips, and actions towards others seem less amusing this time around. So much so that even the multiple families who I saw this with laughed approximately twice during its running time, no matter what the joke was or who was delivering it. To quote the late, great Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert: You know that you're in trouble when you have to "drop trou" in order to get a laugh.
I've seen several films during this year's marathon that took me by surprise, but until now, none that had been a massive disappointment. Goosebumps 2: Haunted Halloween is riddled with too many clichés, too many dull characters, and just a lack of effort to make something truly special for your kids. If your child still hasn't seen the first motion picture, they are far better off sitting through that than this pile of rotting pumpkins. If they've already sat through that one, sit down with them and watch something nostalgic from prior decades, such as The Monster Squad, Gremlins, or even The Gate. Because despite my disinterest in having children of my own, I firmly believe that your offspring deserve better.
Tomorrow, it's time to put the youngins' to bed, because Tobe Hooper is exploding back onto the marathon!
Normally, I'd save sequels to something that I JUST watched for a little bit later in the marathon, but seeing how much I enjoyed the first Sleepaway Camp, I figured that I could do a bit of reshuffling to keep my spirits high. Plus, both pictures are relatively quick watches, so squeezing two into one day shouldn't be a difficult task. Fair warning though: if you are still not "in the know" in regards to the first entry in this franchise, then I apologize for any spoilers that will be posted during portions of these reviews.
Five years have passed since the massacre at Camp Arawak, and after years of electroshock therapy (plus a sex change operation), culprit Angela Baker has been seemingly "rehabilitated" and released. She's accepted the position as a head counselor at Camp Rolling Hills, where she frequently clashes with the more open-minded and free-spirited attendees. Naturally, as most psychotic slasher movie villains do, she doesn't take kindly to this, and the slaughtering begins anew.
There are quite a few notable differences between Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers and its predecessor. The first is the lack of a mystery about who or what is contributing to the body count. The second, and most important aspect of this flick, is that its tone is nowhere near as dark as it was five years prior. Far more tongue-in-cheek and gleefully campy (pun possibly intended), I can only assume that this tonal change was due to the rights being sold by writer/director Robert Hiltzik. That, and considering how popular characters such as Freddy Krueger were at the time, perhaps those in charge were hoping that they too could strike gold if the chance was there. These decisions result in Sleepaway Camp II feeling more like a horror-comedy rather than a serious, if not somewhat tragic tale.
All of that being said, this change in direction is quite similar to what we saw during the time between The Evil Dead & Evil Dead II. What it may sacrifice in emotion or dread, it makes up for with sheer pandemonium and gruesome fun. Having grown up a bit, Angela (now portrayed by Pamela "Stop asking me about my brother" Springsteen) is letting her freak flag fly. She is in full-on delusion mode, and her odd, if not archaic sense of morals results in her committing some truly heinous acts of murder. There's far more variety (and volume) in the kills than before, and could make even hardened vets like myself gag a bit. If you are a germaphobe and hate outhouses, then you will absolutely detest one particular death in this film. Heck, Angela even gets to pay homage to Leatherface during one nighttime sequence, and that's just fabulous.
Most sequels won't set the world ablaze, but Sleepaway Camp II is still a perfectly cromulent time. Watching a psychotic transgendered woman kill annoying, disobedient teenagers is absolutely not PC and pretty rotten, but that's one of the many reasons as to why the slasher genre has such a devoted fanbase. If you've got the time to spare, this self-aware, silly cinematic ditty is available to stream on Amazon Prime, and to nobody's surprise, Scream! Factory has also released a Blu-ray for the public to buy.
It's 1989, and Angela Baker is on the run for her series of crimes that were committed at Camp Rolling Hills. Posing as a younger camper named Maria, she sneaks aboard the bus to the newly christened "Camp New Horizons," which even after a name change, will forever be known as her old stomping grounds. Upon arrival, she discovers that two counselors are attempting an experiment by coercing youths from different backgrounds and social circles to mingle with one another. Naturally, the quirks and traits from some of these young ruffians don't sit too well with Angela, and if you can't guess what happens next, then you haven't been reading this blog long enough.
Released one year after the second film (and filmed back to back with it over the course of six weeks), Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland is a continuation of the style, substance, and tone that was found in that prior picture. Pamela Springsteen reprises her role as Angela, and while I admit that I do find her iteration of the character to be fairly funny, I did start to miss original actress Felissa Rose about halfway through this one. There have been reports that she tried out for Unhappy Campers, but was turned down due to not having the ability to deliver the comedic lines as well as they wanted. At the end of the day though, it doesn't detract from the quality of the movie. The rest of the cast is your typical gaggle of cliched stereotypes waiting to be offed, though I couldn't help but be weirded out to discover the presence of Academy Award nominee Michael J. Pollard (Bonnie and Clyde). Seeing him as a lecherous old man who loves to sleep with women a third his age is certainly something.
Much like film number two, SC3 is going more for slapstick than genuine chills or uneasy vibes, and it also packs in a lot of self-referential jokes and odes to pop culture. The head organizers of the event are named Herman and Lily, Angela has a dream sequence that is an obvious reference to a famous Oscar speech, and there's even a quick nod to Friday the 13th. I can also appreciate any flick that takes shots at the notion of casting people to play teenagers who are anything but close to that age range. Of course, that's fine and dandy, but what about the butchering you may ask? While the body count is lower than what was amassed in Unhappy Campers, Teenage Wasteland still sports some creative and wacky ways to dispose of people (the highlight being the usage of a flagpole). These flicks will likely never be in the same league as the more popular entries in the genre, but they can be happy knowing that they still make a mean punch in the death department.
As was the case with its forebear, Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland is far from highbrow entertainment. You're likely to find more technically proficient motion pictures on this year's Unseen Terror, but if you're just looking for good, dumb, bloody fun, then you're in luck. Marathoning the three movies should make for a good use of a free day during the month, and with the right crowd surrounding you, Angela and her escapades will keep you entertained for at least a solid five hours. Yet again, this is available to stream on Amazon Prime, and can be purchased on Blu-Ray from Scream! Factory. Go get on that.
Tomorrow, I feel like I need to take a quick trip out of the 80s and tackle something a little more modern. Will I find something that gives me the willies, or will I be craving something a little undercooked?
Ricky Thomas and Angela Baker are getting ready to head out to "Camp Arawak" for the summer. Though the former has attended multiple times before, this will be the first occasion for his female cousin. Initially, Angela's quiet, extremely introverted behavior makes her the subject of bullying from bunkmates and female counselors alike, but she begins to open up more when Ricky's friend Paul takes an interest in her. After a brief incident with a camp chef nearly gets Angela molested, the cook is later attacked by an unknown assailant, and severely scalded by a large pot of boiling water. It isn't long before things start to go wrong for others with foul intentions, especially if there's been a prior connection with the young girl herself.
Making the conscious decision to finally watchand review 1983's slasher standout Sleepaway Camp was more difficult than I expected it to be. Mind you, it has nothing to do with the quality of the picture itself, or the fact that it's following yesterday's highlight of the marathon (so far). Rather, it is solely because I've known about the film's rather infamous and shocking twist for many, many years. You couldn't open up a magazine or watch some television countdown without them mentioning it, and due to such a thing, I felt like immediate viewings weren't fully necessary. But as I inch closer and closer to that bizarre area in one's life known as the mid-30s, the time came for me to just stop being lazy and watch the damn flick already.
Much to my surprise, the tone of Sleepaway Camp is dismally cruel. For an environment that does contain at least some moments of pure joy, there always seems to be some underlying hostility amongst these campers and their counselors, especially when it comes to their treatment of young Angela, who serves as somewhat of an avatar for the audience. It's perfect for molding people who already may be slightly deranged, but not completely unhinged into something truly malevolent. The purest of souls, and I do use that term loosely, could arguably be Angela herself, or perhaps her cousin Ricky (played wonderfully by Jonathan Tiersten) and his friend Paul (Christopher Collet of The Manhattan Project), who seems to be the only other person at the camp who wants to treat the nearly-mute girl with respect or affection. For what most collectively believe is not the strongest of slasher movie franchises, I was pleasantly surprised by how memorable and colorful (if not slightly typical) this cast of characters was. The bullies and antagonists are rather rotten, and the fact that young Karen Fields, who portrays the snobby and mean-hearted Judy, didn't go on to star in other projects is a damn shame.
Now, don't get me wrong, all of that hyping about the attitude and mood of Sleepaway Camp that I just wrote about it is something that I firmly stand behind. But categorizing it as top tier material would be grossly inaccurate, as the movie is still very cheesy and riddled with some of the same problems that befell nearly every release in this 80s-centric subgenre. Most of the lines uttered from writer/director Robert Hiltzik's script won't likely be making it onto the AFI's list of most influential movie quotes, and some of the delivery is downright cringeworthy (looking right at you Mike Kellin). Hell, there's a very good chance that you'll piece together most of its plot and subsequent revelations if you have a brain that is still functioning after the past two years have nearly destroyed everyone's remaining cells. Still, it doesn't detract from the fun factor, and the final product ensures you that as long as you are patient, these fools are going to get what's coming to them and through unusual methods (one scene involving a beehive got under my skin).
Sleepaway Camp won't exactly blow your mind by any means, and there are some themes that could be misconstrued as gross even by today's standards, but the movie absolutely deserves its cult status. What it lacks in most of the acting department or extravagant kills (Pieces it ain't), it makes up with memorable characters, joyfully campy dialogue, and yes, some excellent twists that those who go in completely blind will be rather shocked by. Even with the most important details permanently etched in my memory, I still found it to be quite the enjoyable experience. You can stream this relic on Amazon Prime, and if you can put off spending money on that latest Apple product, use some of the cash on the Blu-ray that Shout! Factory released a little while ago.
Tomorrow, we aren't leaving the decade of decadence just yet, but what ground should be covered? Only time will tell...
If you've ever visited this blog during my yearly marathons, you'll know that I have a few requirements (other than the obvious "never seen" aspect). There's stuff like watch one anthology, watch a Kaiju flick, and watch a foreign film to name a few. After finishing 1988's Brain Damage, which is the sophomore effort from Basket Case director Frank Henenlotter, I've started to believe that there's one additional requirement: view at least one motion picture that will just leave you feeling slightly unclean, yet will set the stakes rather high for other movies to follow during that October. In 2015, From Beyondtook the cake. One year later, it was Street Trash. Last year, it was Brian Yuzna'sSociety. For my eighth year, this story of an average joe named Brian who wakes up one day to discover a talking parasite on his neck that can inject hallucinogenic liquids into his brain (but requires brains to satiate its own hunger) takes the cake. Because man oh man, while I'm certain that more technically proficient pictures will appear here on later dates, nothing can top this in terms of sheer weirdness and manic entertainment.
First and foremost, Brain Damage feels very dirty. While this depiction of New York City doesn't feel as gross as what was seen in Henenlotter's previous film, there is a very seedy underbelly on display, which is kind of perfect for a concept such as this. Everything feels slightly unconventional and off-kilter, so much so that things don't exactly unwrap the way that you may expect them to. It lends a very punk rock attitude to its running time, and that isn't just due to one sequence of a very high Brian heading to a rock club, or spotting posters for The Cramps, Bauhaus, and Slayer in his room. It's a very nice surprise and helps keep Brain Damage fresh for most of its running time. The obvious metaphors for drug usage and dependency are out there in the open, though there's nowhere near as much subtlety about it as there are in other major releases. Would people with problems such as heroin or cocaine addiction really even bat an eye at someone with a brain-eating parasite, or would they just wonder to themselves about how they can get one of their own?
On the human side of things, the cast makes the best of some admittedly cheesy dialogue. Lead performer Rick Hearst puts far more heart into his performance than most others in this field likely would. You feel for the guy, and even sympathize with him when he begins to go through withdrawal. But as one would hope, the real standout performance comes from the inhuman creature named "Aylmer," voiced to absolute perfection by beloved horror television host John Zacherle. Unlike most similar organisms, Aylmer is undeniably charming and quite well-spoken. He can hold a conversation without losing his cool, and even comes across as the best friend or "dealer" that you could ever hope for. Over time, those layers are peeled away and you see that despite his appearance, he is quite cruel and has earned his right to be called a "monster" by modern day fans. Through the use of good puppetry and camera trickery, he seems like something that you could legitimately encounter in the darkest parts of the city. He also takes part in what will EASILY be the top death of any flick featured in this year's Unseen Terror, but I won't spoil anything about that moment other than it made me clap my hands due to its pure insanity.
I don't know how much more I can sell Brain Damage to those of you who have yet to witness its magic. It's such an oddball picture, with wild death sequences, a wicked sense of humor, trippy visuals, and most surprisingly of all, a large amount of fascination that keeps your eyes glued to the screen. Perhaps my only complaint is that it is a tad bit too short, and that the ending feels abrupt, but hot damn those are SMALL gripes. If you're new to Henenlotter's filmography, this is just as good of a place to start (though if you skip Basket Case, you may not find as much amusement with a particular cameo that occurs in the third act). If you're still curious and haven't clicked the "x" button on your browser by now, there's a packed Blu-ray out there for purchase from Arrow Video. Much like their release of The Hills Have Eyes, this bad boy is CRAMMED with special features, including a great commentary track from the director himself, tons of "making of" and behind the scenes featurettes, and even an interview with arguably the biggest fan of the flick that you'll ever meet.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have some wonderful dreams of my own that may or may not be courtesy of a tiny friend.
……..it's Nyquil in case you're wondering. I'm not crazy enough to seek out brains to consume (anymore).
Tomorrow, I feel the need to possibly come down off of my trip, so let's see what nighttime slashers are out there to help me kick this habit...
The space shuttle Churchill is investigating a mysterious ship found within the coma of Halley's Comet. Once inside, the crew discover not just hundreds of dead bat-like creatures, but three naked humanoid bodies, who seem to be in suspended animation. They gather the specimens and plan to head back to earth, but contact is lost during their return journey. As a rescue mission is launched, the Churchill returns to our planet, but while the ship is severely damaged, the three pods containing the bodies are in perfect condition. They are taken to a research center in London, and after an autopsy is attempted on the lone female of the trio, she awakens and completely drains the life from her would-be coroner. Escaping the facility, she sets out in search of goodness knows what, while those left in shock find that her victims may not necessarily stay dead after she has absorbed their essence.
Well, seeing as how I'm only one hour removed from turning thirty-three, I figured that if I was going to close out the final hours of being thirty-two, it should be with a bigger picture from the year that I was born. Plus, according to the wonderful cesspool known as the internet, the number one movie in the world during the day of my birth was Commando, which is the furthest thing from a horror movie and something that is disqualified from my marathon. Perhaps that will be saved for another day.
Prior to his passing, Tobe Hooper had been quite vocal about his love and passion that was put into Lifeforce, which at the time took quite a beating from critics and some fans. Too weird to be properly marketed, yet nowhere near as gratuitous as the slasher pictures that dominated the box office, it's considered to be a bit of an anomaly amongst fans of horror/science fiction hybrids. After finishing it up, I think that while it's very easy to understand why people have been very critical of the final product, it's also makes for one heck of a fun ride if you know what you're in store for. Doing some research for this review, I discovered that Lifeforce was one of three motion pictures that Tobe Hooper was attached to direct after signing a three picture deal with Cannon Films. Even more surprising was the revelation that Dan O'Bannon, who wrote the screenplay for Alien and The Return of the Living Dead, was one of two individuals who put pen to paper for this project and in charge of reworking/retooling the science fiction novel The Space Vampires (I'll never badmouth romance authors for their titles again) for the big screen. The results are a very kooky, often-times dumb, but altogether entertaining flick.
Most of what drives Lifeforce is the idea of style over substance, because when you chip away the very appealing images and set pieces, the story is padded out by a bit too much exposition. There are a lot of moments that could have the audience asking why they chose to explain things that previously occurred in great retail rather than, I don't know, show it, but those moments are occasionally followed up by something strange that takes you by complete surprise (ex: a man running into a prison cell and exploding into sand). While we're on the subject of that, the first half of Lifeforce sports some of the more fascinating visuals that I've seen during this year's Unseen Terror. It's quite apparent that this is where most of O'Bannon's best ideas were set in motion, because they feature events that I'm certain are most of what the fanbase gushes over. People turn into dried-up husks, light shines down from the heavens, giant bat creatures pop up, and actress Mathilda May does her best Rogue from X-Men impression to name a few. They recall pictures of yesteryear likethe aforementioned Alien, but with enough of their own identity to avoid being accused of plagiarism.
Cast-wise everyone is perfectly fine, though Peter Firth (Spooks) does slip into overacting mode once in a blue moon. French actress Mathilda May manages to say so much without speaking for a large chunk of her role, and her body language and cold, yet oddly welcoming demeanor feels like whatthe filmmakers behind Terminator 3 wish they could have accomplished with their antagonist. It's somewhat like a precursor to what actresses such as Olwen Catherine Kelly were able to do in flicks like the excellent The Autopsy of Jane Doe. Steve Railsback is one of the lone American performers found in Lifeforce, but has easily the most compelling and important arc. His confusion, fear, and subtle interest with all of the events that surround him help elevate this movie more than most would expect him to. But oof, as long as we all live, nobody should ever ask the man to take part in any flicks that feature "hypnotizing" again. As the cherry on top, Sir Patrick Stewart (yes, the very same) has a bit part as the manager of a psychiatric hospital, and I always welcome the chance to see him let his guard down and have some fun in a "B" movie.
Lifeforce is far from a perfect flick and is certifiably insane, but it's very watchable. Sporting a very unique take on vampirism (name another "bloodsuckers in outer space" flick from the 80s please), some rad visuals, and a storyline that just gets progressively stranger as time goes by, it's the perfect film to put on in the background at your next Halloween party or whenever you just want another crazed SciFi/Horror flick for your own monthly marathon. As of this writing, it's available for free on both STARZ's On-Demand service and Amazon Prime. If you're feeling a bit more dangerous however, there's a rather cheap Blu-ray out from Scream! Factory, and it features two different cuts of the picture, as well as a plethora of extras.
Gotta wonder if it contains Mathilda May's phone number though......hey, I might as well TRY....
Tomorrow, it's my god damn birthday, and I'll review whatever the hell I want to. I think I'm feeling something Henenlotter...
*sigh*
I didn't expect for this to happen within only the first week of this year's marathon. As (unfortunately) per usual, I'm a bit behind on not necessarily my viewings, but my reviews themselves. Thankfully, there's at least three movies spread across these past two days, so that is assuredly a plus, right?
Anyway, let's just do this damn thing. I need to try and adjust my sleeping schedule again to something that resembles a mammal's.
There's a special kind of "bad" attached to horror pictures from the latter half of the 1950s. While there was certainly an assortment of genuinely good projects being released (Creature from the Black Lagoon, Invasion of the Body Snatchers), the populace was also subjected to just a barrage of glorified "Drive-in" flicks. More often than not, these weren't the type of films that were going to blow your mind, but only served as something to sit back and watch with your loved one as you attempted to make that frightening "first move." Now, before you read any further ramblings or opinions on this little picture, I want you to take one good look at the poster for 1959's The Wasp Woman, which revolves around an older woman in the cosmetics field who takes a new, experimental youth potion derived from wasp jelly, but is surprised by what side effects occur. Grandiose and rather striking, isn't it? Well, that's about the most memorable aspect of the movie, because despite what is advertised on that piece of art, you aren't getting a gigantic insect with the head of a woman. Instead, the titular monster looks more akin to a cheap knockoff of the creature from The Fly, which was released one year prior to this. It isn't entirely surprising to find out that this was produced and directed by 'B' movie kingpin Roger Corman, as he's never exactly been shy about releasing motion pictures that recall (then) recent efforts. But unlike some distributors of the modern day era, he isn't going to lie to the audience, and at the very least, he'll try his damnedest to entertain you, and given how gleefully over-the-top everyone in The Wasp Woman is, he's certainly trying.
And then, there is The Giant Claw. Not only does this poster lie to the audience, but as I'll discuss below, it deceived the performers that were involved in the actual production! In the case of this infamous 1957 turkey, I was fully aware of its existence. I recalled seeing a trailer multiple times on my Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies VHS tape, and if luck is on my side, I'll be able to cross every movie featured on that relic from my childhood off of my bucket list by the end of 2019. After nearly twenty-five years, I can now finally say that I've finished this one in its entirety, but oh man, writing a review of this picture without busting out laughing was kind of difficult. Plot-wise, it's your standard "giant monster" flick, with a giant winged beast appearing seemingly out of nowhere to terrorize the world. What surprised me the most while watching The Giant Claw was how sincere lead actor Jeff Morrow is. He's treating this the same way that actors treated the original King Kong or Gojira. Heck, now that I think about it, the rest of the supporting cast isn't too shabby either. But then, I found out that there was a twist to this entire experience. They didn't know that they were supposed to be in awe of THIS:
Yep. It turns out that all of the actors and actresses involved with The Giant Claw were completely unaware of how goofy and dumb-looking the behemoth buzzard was going to look (legendary designer Ray Harryhausen was originally attached to create it, but they had to cut that due to budget restraints). Much to their horror, its design and just plain awfulness was revealed at the movie's premiere, where Morrow reportedly snuck out of the theater while the audience laughed their collective asses off. I can't say that I blame him either, because you just can't be scared by something that looks like a Looney Tunes character with mange.
It must be said that while neither of these two movies will ever come close to the films that they were clearly inspired by, their influence on others over the past several decades can be felt. Heck, if you look at the stories, last year's entertaining Rejuvenatrix shares a lot in common with The Wasp Woman, and The Giant Claw could be the grandfather of bad movie masterpieces like Birdemic. If you're going to purchase either of these schlocky experiences on home video (Corman's flick can be found streaming for free on Amazon Prime, and The Giant Claw is available in an assortment of DVD collections), then I strongly suggest you grab a large pizza, a case of beer, and some friends that can appreciate some good old fashioned cheese.
Do be careful with the alcohol though. If you take a shot for every time that The Giant Claw is described to be "as big as a battleship," you'll end up dead before the first act is over.
Well, now that Day 7 has concluded, let's get a little more serious for the eighth one.
Figuring that I needed to take a break from the "B" movies (and that I desperately craved something that could at least warrant a rating of two stars in an unironic sort of way), I decided to welcome Mr. Clive Barker back to this year's marathon. Prior to pressing play, my memories of 1995's Lord of Illusions were fairly nonexistent. The only distinguishing things that I can recall about the picture were some trailers, the fact that it was based on another short story from his "Books of Blood," a couple of nifty posters, and a finale that was supposedly rather insane (though it seems like that's a given in the case of most of the man's creations). Our plot revolves around private investigator Harry D'Amour, who comes into contact with members of a fanatical cult that seem to be fully intent on resurrecting someone dubbed "The Puritan." It turns out that Nix, the man in question, is the seemingly-deceased head of these followers, and had discovered how to utilize real magic. Before he could cause real harm to the world, he was murdered by his top pupil, and buried where no soul could ever find him. That is about as much information that I can give you about Lord of Illusions, as further discussion could find me diving headfirst into spoiler territory.
The very first thing I noticed in Lord of Illusions was the presence of Kevin J. O'Connor. Just when I thought that I had escaped his annoyingness after Deep Rising, he has returned to haunt me until I go mad and pull out every useful part on and inside of my head. Much to my surprise though, he is far more likeable this time around, and as an integral part of helping move the story along, he is written to be the opposite of a comedic relief. It also blew my mind to see anotherface from Deep Rising pop up in the form of Famke Janssen, and while I'm sure that was just coincidence, it still weirded me out quite a bit. Unfortunately, she's probably the weakest link in the acting department, but her character isn't the most developed of the bunch so it's hard to blame her.Scott Bakula of Quantum Leap fame plays our hero, who is apparently one of the only recurring characters in Barker's stories (he's even crossed over into the world ofthe cenobites). He is putting one hundred percent into this performance, and it makes me wish that we had continued to see further Barker-related adventures involving this guy. He shares some similarities with other fictional males like John Constantine, though he could probably never come close to how much shenanigans and weirdness that the Alan Moore creation has collected over the past several decades.
Considering the title of this particular motion picture, you would expect that the visual aesthetics of Lord of Illusions would stand out from the crowd. The good news is that the set pieces and color schemes certainly evoke a mood and world that is unmistakably Clive Barker. It isn't hard to tell the difference between a flick that he directs (Hellraiser, Nightbreed) and one that he merely writes or attaches his name to (Rawhead Rex, Book of Blood). The third act, which was indeed quite hectic, also sports some very creepy imagery and effects that could really get under one's skin. The bad news however is that the movie does sport some iffy green screen and computer-generated effects that while not completely abhorrent or severely dated, can occasionally take you out of the experience. Still, it's only a tiny bruise on an otherwise very good-looking project.
While it can't really stand up to previously-released motion pictures like Nightbreed, Hellraiser, or Hellbound: Hellraiser II, I still think that Lord of Illusions is worth a watch. It sports a fun narrative that never bores you, a cast of kooky and memorable characters (it could be hard for Super Troopers fans to look at Daniel von Bargen again without seeing bugs crawl out of his eye sockets), and some nifty violence that only the Brit himself could concoct. If you're interested in completing your Clive Cinematic Collection, Lord of Illusions can be purchased on Blu-ray from the always reliable Scream! Factory. However, if you're feeling cheap, it's also available to stream for Amazon Prime members for the low, low price of absolutely nothing.
As an added bonus, you can also check out the concept record from defunct heavy metal band Nevermore, who sampled the movie for their classic "Dreaming Neon Black" record. Brownie points for whoever can actually make out those samples as well.
Tomorrow, I'm one step closer to my birthday, and I'm feeling like I need something to close out thirty-two in proper fashion....
