Unseen Terror 2018: Day 13

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?

Unseen Terror 2018: Day 11

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 Beyond took the cake. One year later, it was Street Trash. Last year, it was Brian Yuzna's Society. 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...

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 17

Dutch couple Rex and Saskia are heading out to a vacation in France. Though the two do have their occasional squabbles, they do truly love one another, and Rex vows to never leave or abandon his girlfriend. After their vehicle runs out of petrol, they make a quick stop at a rest area. Saskia heads inside to buy drinks for their trip, but while her boyfriend remains outside near their car, she never comes back out, and seemingly vanishes into thin air.



Alright, I'm sensing somewhat of a trend now: several of the past week's worth of movies chosen for Unseen Terror are hotly contested as being classified as "horror." Of course, this could bring up the long-standing argument over what truly falls under that banner these days. In the end, I've always said that if any film can chill you to your core or bring out that darker part in you that perhaps you've tried to suppress your whole life, then maybe it can be constituted as a horror flick in at least some capacity. It's something that will never quite be settled, and if you ask me, that makes it all the more fun.


That being said, I don't quite know how to categorize 1988's The Vanishing, as it contains elements of scarier influences from throughout the decades, but plays out far more like a mystery than anything else. The shadow of motion pictures like Nicolas Roeg's Don't Look Now (an early favorite of this marathon!) looms over this production, as does the surprisingly human feel of filmmakers such as Alfred Hitchcock. It's a project based around obsession and the stubborn, if not understandable behavior of refusing to let go and move on. It's also about what one interprets as good or bad; specifically, the latter arguing that perhaps things aren't as black and white as they appear to be for those who divulge in various forms of media, or that we require both to decipher who we really are.


There are no boogiemen or violence-obsessed slashers in this flick, and there are no supernatural elements lurking beneath the surface. Instead, the definition of evil in this world is a far more fascinating one than we would expect. And for that matter, we see it from the very beginning. This isn't spoiling a great deal, but within the first twenty-or-so minutes of The Vanishing, the audience unequivocally realize who kidnapped Saskia. It is during the rest of the film's running time, where we witness Rex's (Gene Bervoets) slight descent into madness over the course of three, agonizing years and the story of how this entire event came to be, that it really shines and even crosses into psychological horror territory. It's very natural to sympathize with our protagonist and I would find it rather unbelievable if nobody did. His unhealthy, tragic fixation on discovering his lover's whereabouts does lend a double meaning to the title of the flick, as we feel that while his humanity still remains, his rationality could be disappearing before our very eyes. The more interesting aspect of The Vanishing comes in the form of Raymond (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu), who is as gloomy, unconventional, and moralistically bizarre as anyone that you would name a villain. He's sociopathic, but not psychotic. The idea that one individual needs to test themselves by going against predestined outcomes and utilize free will (or even a warped version of "an eye for an eye") is truly disturbing behavior, and when these two opposites finally meet, the outcome leads to a finale that, while spoiled for someone like me in advance (thanks Bravo), was nonetheless stunningly horrifying.


It may be up for debate as to whether The Vanishing can truly be sorted into the horror film pile, but whatever your final take on the film's classification may be, it's an exceptionally well-made piece of cinema. The suspense is there, the acting is nothing short of great, and the final fifteen minutes (specifically its conclusion) are guaranteed to crush your soul. Much like Cronos, this 1988 critical darling is available on a very pristine DVD and Blu-ray, which contains a twenty minute-long interview conducted in 2014 with director George Sluizer, who passed away that very same year. There's also an interview with female star Johanna ter Steege, who I wish had more roles to her name as she just seems like a wonderful person. The picture and audio quality are also outstanding, managing to make The Vanishing look ten years younger than it actually is.



And before you ask: no, I do not plan on watching the 1993 remake.



........not yet at least........




Tomorrow, we head forward into the 1990s with familiar "alien" territory, though this time it's under the direction of an individual that hasn't been seen on Unseen Terror in three years...

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 3

Several years have passed since Mike Pearson battled the odd, seemingly unbeatable undertaker known as "The Tall Man," whom the young man believes is grave robbing and resurrecting recently-deceased corpses to do his bidding. Alas, no one will believe him, including his old family friend Reggie, who has saved him from his prior encounter with the benevolent being. After being locked up in a mental institution for quite some time, Mike eventually fakes his sanity and is released to the outside world. When the young man meets back up with Reggie, both begin to experience their fair share of out-of-the-ordinary incidents. These include the sudden death of Reggie's entire family, and visions of a young woman named Liz, who appears to have a psychic bond to Mike despite the two having never met face-to-face. The duo set out with two things in mind: save this mysterious lady from certain doom, and to finally kill this seemingly inhuman creation that continues to haunt them.



If one were to sit me down and ask that I compile a list of my personal top ten horror films, Don Coscarelli's 1979 relic Phantasm would undoubtedly make it onto that list. It's a creepy and wonderful little ditty that has just enough black humor, solid acting, and unique atmospheres sprinkled into its relatively short running time that helps keeps you invested. For the older audiences who were around for the glorious heyday of the 1980s scary movie explosion, the news of this particular motion picture receiving a sequel must have seemed like a huge surprise. After all, director Coscarelli admits that he really didn't know how to write a follow-up to the picture, though once he discovered that it could take place immediately after the events of the previous film had ended, he figured that it was better late than never.



Thankfully, it looks like Coscarelli was able to get most of what he wanted out of Phantasm II. Virtually everyone from the original flick's cast is able to return after nearly a decade has gone by, though there are two very notable omissions: Bill Thornbury, whose character of Jody is presumed dead, and A. Michael Baldwin, who previously played the young protagonist Mike Pearson. Sadly, the latter had apparently dropped out of the acting game, so the studio forced Coscarelli to recast him with James LeGros: a relative unknown at the time who previously had bit parts in pictures such as Near Dark and the perplexingly-titled Solarbabies. LeGros is a fine substitute (if not a bit old for this role), but if the only reason as to why he was cast instead of original star Baldwin was because the latter chose to not pursue a career in Hollywood, then you should have taken some of that studio money and made an offer for the O.G. Mike to return. Thankfully, that wasn't the case with Reggie Banister, who is given a larger chunk of time to do much more than he did in the first Phantasm, and he just seems to be relishing every single moment in Phantasm II. He's one of horror's more underrated "badasses," doing things that include taking part in a chainsaw duel and fighting off a good chunk of these pint-sized minions (who seem to resemble cancer-stricken Jawas this time around). Of course, the late Angrus Scrimm delivers another triumphant performance as the Tall Man, but I don't think any single viewer would have ever doubted that he wouldn't turn one in. There isn't much to discuss when it comes to the new on-screen presences either, as even with some relatively inconsistent writing, new additions like Paula Irvine (who looks like a combination of Patricia Arquette and Debbie Harry) are still welcome in this bizarre universe. On an unrelated note, Phantasm II is also loaded with beautifully grotesque makeup and gore effects, which come courtesy of the legendary Greg Nicotero. And the updated version of the iconic theme by Fred Myrow is effectively creepy too.



Ah, but I did mention that Coscarelli got "most" of what he wanted with this sequel, yes? Well, it's unfortunate that reports of studio interference have become more well-known over the years, because it does explain why there are many things in Phantasm II that don't work. One of the most effective things about the first entry in this (now) franchise was this dreamlike state that the entire experience seemed to be going in and out of. As wonky as it may sound on paper, it just worked, and helped create this real sense of dread and feeling as if this world was coming undone. There are more dream sequences this time around, but they feel too overused and don't really pack the same punch that they should. That, and considering how abnormally pretty the motion picture looks (they sure didn't have a problem taking advantage of that higher budget), the abundance of bright colors mixed into the product after so many odd transitions can often cause you to get a headache or forcefully adjust the levels on your television set. A lot of the mystique and unanswered questions surrounding the prior movie remain unsolved and unknown, and by the time the credits have rolled, I wouldn't be entirely shocked if some aspects and plot details of the flick leave you feeling more perplexed than intrigued. There's also a very predictable twist that occurs towards the end of Phantasm II which does feel slightly disappointing, even if it does result in a memorable moment or two.


While it leaves a lot of our questions unanswered and does feel mildly confusing up until a certain point, Phantasm II is still a fairly qualified sequel in a land chocked full of far too many inadequate and unnecessary ones. The good outweighs the bad, and the bad is far from truly wretched or offensive (we haven't reached those ones just yet people). I don't know if it warrants an immediate buy, but if one has access to streaming service HBO Go, then you can currently view it on there for no extra charge. If you are still a firm believer of purchasing discs, however, then you can grab a cheap copy on DVD (packaged with other Unseen Terror alumni such as The Serpent and the Rainbow and Sssssss) or on Blu-Ray thanks to the always-reliable folks at Shout! Factory.



And while you're at it, maybe you can find one of those deadly spheres for my birthday. I need it for....personal reasons.



Tomorrow, we just can't get out of this gosh darn time period, and let Brian Yuzna of Re-Animator fame make his first appearance this year!

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 28

High school students around the town of Mill Basin are heavily promoting the debut live shows of an upcoming heavy metal act called Black Roses. The group has gained an infamous reputation for their confrontational lyrics, and accusations from flustered parents are running rampant that they may have ties to darker forces. Still, the town's mayor says that making a decision to cancel any concerts is beyond his control, as it was the institution itself who approved of the decision to hold these events. Once the evening of the first gig sets in, the youth of Mill Basin are exposed to the true power of rock and roll: they relish and party enthusiastically to the plethora of tunes pouring out of the speakers. Ironically enough, however, what is often accused and labeled as being "the devil's music" could be just that, as the kids learn that these tracks could serve as a powerful tool for conjuring demons!



As if it wasn't blatantly obvious, heavy metal and horror films go together like chicken and waffles: you would never imagine that the pairing would work until you try it out. They both have ties to the darker sides of humanity, were often born out of frustration with the creators' surroundings and upbringing, and frequently confront issues that we may not be comfortable with discussing. So, after hearing of 1988's Black Roses, which pairs two of my longest-running loves that I will most likely never tire of (shoutout to Watercooler Films for the suggestion by the way!), I felt that this was a necessity. Plus, remembering how much I enjoyed the random blind buy known as Suck was an extra incentive, so this felt like a no-brainer.


If you are a first time reader of Unseen Terror, then I must apologize in advance, as this review will likely contain some foul language not suitable for those who are rather young or quite sensitive. But, there is no other way to construct the following statement: Black Roses fucking rules. Managing to seamlessly blend the best of B-movie horror and gleefully silly over-the-top horror-comedies, the entire experience is so earnest that you can't help but fall for it. True, if you read the plot description above, it does sound dumb, but if you've gone this far during my marathon(s), then you should know that this is considered to be quite normal in comparison to other projects with larger budgets. Plus, those pictures don't feature music legend Carmine Appice (Vanilla Fudge, Ozzy Osbourne, Rod Stewart) as a demonic drummer, do they?


There is a fear that one would feel once they hit 'play' on their copy of Black Roses, which is the concern that the movie is anti-heavy metal propaganda. After all, the lead character (portrayed by The Young and the Restless veteran John Martin) is a concerned English teacher, who despite his very cool and welcoming demeanor, doesn't exactly seem like the type to be caught listening to any heavier music. His students end up turning into apathetic, violent, or just plain monstrous beings once they are exposed to the tunes of the titular band, and Mill Basin's version of the notorious pro-censorship group the PMRC is viewed as paranoid and anciently out of touch. Honestly though, I just didn't see there being any warnings related to heavy metal being dangerous. In fact, most of the flick seems to have more in common with a piece like Trick or Treat, which I always felt was making fun of the "metal is evil" sentiment, or even so-bad-they're-good pieces of exploitation like Reefer Madness, though this is obviously not taking itself as serious as the latter was. And when you consider that director John Fasano also sat in the main chair for the love letter to the genre(s) known as underground hit Rock 'n' Roll Nightmare, do you really believe that he would suddenly pull a 180 a mere year later?


Anyway, if I can get back on topic, one of Black Roses' defining traits is how everybody in the cast and crew is totally on board with the material and concept. Though the list of performers as a whole are quite exceptional, the aforementioned Martin steals the show. Not just sporting a killer mustache, the man also displays a great willingness to play along and relish every time that he gets to interact with something out of the ordinary. There's also an all-too-brief appearance from Vincent Pastore (yes, Big Pussy from The Sopranos) as an irritable father who fights a demon that attempts to drag him into a speaker-vortex. No, you didn't read that wrong, but trust me when I say that it is just fabulous. Julie Adams (Creature from the Black Lagoon) also shows up as one of the crankier elders who just doesn't seem to understand why the kids love this rock and/or roll, though it admittedly took me a second or two to recognize her face. She's more defined-looking than some of Black Roses' effects though. For as much praising as I am raining down upon this film, it does unfortunately suffer from some rather bad makeup and beast designs, but it is very possible that a good chunk of the production cost went to securing some of the bands needed for the soundtrack. That, or they just didn't have many great ideas to begin with. Still, it doesn't detract from the overall fun factor, and I'll gladly take watching someone swat at a long-necked monster with a tennis racket at any opportunity.


Even with minor flaws such as a weak ending and a somewhat disappointing final ten minutes, Black Roses is a ton of fun. I get true joy from discovering hidden gems buried beneath various piles of dirty pebbles, and this horror-metal hybrid shines rather brightly with delicious amounts of cheese, charm, and a killer soundtrack to boot (if you aren't humming a single one of these songs after everything has wrapped up, you aren't paying attention). It's a god damn shame that this obscure motion picture is sitting at such a low rating on various websites such as IMDb, though hopefully it will receive further praise down the line by someone in the realm of pop culture with a bit more pull. I can only hope that such high-level admiration skyrockets it into getting a proper Blu-Ray release. Still, a standard DVD version of Black Roses is readily available for streaming and purchase online.



And at the very least, I can guarantee you that it's infinitely better than the Mark Wahlberg vehicle known as Rock Star. Because that movie is pure bollocks.




Tomorrow, we venture off to the theater again, as I take a LONG overdue trip to the coldest regions of the world. Why go there you may ask? Well, I have to pay respect to my elders, do I not?

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 21 & Day 22

As a military vehicle is transporting the dangerous gas known as Trioxin from town to town, a single barrel breaks loose from the back of the truck, and falls into a nearby river. Soon afterwards, a young boy named Jesse is coerced by two bullies to venture into the nearby cemetery, where all three stumble across the aforementioned tank. Though Jesse warns that they should not tamper with it, the others are far more ambitious, as they decide to lock their "victim" inside of a vault in the hopes that he will no longer disturb them. Though he is eventually and accidentally freed by a trio of grave robbers, it is too late to stop his curious comrades from messing with the Trioxin, which has effects that are worse than anything that they ever could have imagined. Within no time, the dead rise from the ground, and they are craving only one thing: BRAINS!



Before going into my review for this little ditty, I have to apologize and correct myself for a huge error that was made not too long ago: Unseen Terror was started in 2011, NOT during the year prior to that. How was I able to recall this you may ask? Well, it is because my premiere choice for the very first entry came from Dan O'Bannon's The Return of the Living Dead, a 1985 horror-comedy that is wisely and justifiably adored for its great sense of humor, killer soundtrack, blood/gore, and a very keen ability to not take itself too seriously. So, as luck would have it, I was able to stumble across one of its many sequels from throughout the years. Having also previously seen the follow-up to this picture, but not the actual finished, whole product itself, I felt that a proper viewing was in order. Plus, this is officially my three-hundredth post on here, so I said why the hell not?


I have often heard from fans and critics that the ROTLD series can be categorized as "Punk Rock Zombie" flicks, and after having seen at least three of these pictures, I don't believe that they are completely wrong. In terms of the music department, Part II isn't nearly as impressive as its predecessor, but it does an admirable job at being able to stick out in a sea of sequels with a killer soundtrack, featuring artists like Anthrax and Leatherwolf playing throughout. Tragically, also like the film before it, being able to obtain a cut of the movie with every artist's song featured in the initial theatrical run is nearly impossible thanks to copyright issues, and unless you are willing to settle for the French audio track on the DVD release, you are most likely going to have to track something down at a nearby horror convention. There are also a good number of other technical aspects found throughout this follow-up worth smiling over, including some very colorful gore and the return of the (now) iconic Tarman zombie (though he looks far more comical this time around and gets even less screen time). All of the crew in the makeup department knock it out of the park with some hilariously silly-looking deceased beings, including a woman with worms constantly sticking and wiggling out of her face, and a corpse who gets blasted into two pieces but somehow keeps functioning. Unlike the 1985 release, Part II is definitely played more for laughs, and it comes closer to being lumped into the subgenre known as "comedy-horror" rather than "horror-comedy." "Wait Ryan, what is the difference between those two?" Trust me, if you sit down and watch it yourself, then you shall understand what I'm saying.


Now, while I am absolutely satisfied with the bloodier and louder ends of the spectrum, I would be remiss not to bring up the other aspects of ROTLD Part II. While the creativity behind those in the realm of the undead certainly makes for a memorable experience, other portions of this entry just leave you feeling kind of disappointed. As is the case with most sequels, a majority of this motion picture feels like recycled or redundant material. The most apparent, obvious case of this comes from the casting of James Karen and Thom Mathews as two of our leads. Because it was essentially impossible for their characters from Part 1 to return to the big screen (my apologies for the spoiler), it just feels odd to see them pop back up again, and their new roles feel like carbon copies from that picture in question. Come to think of it, the two even go so far as to make a joke about the similarities and near-duplication towards the middle of its running time, which begs the question of why would you watch this tale instead of its three-year-old ancestor?


Astonishingly, ROTLD Part II is currently sitting at a disastrously-low rating of zero percent on website aggregator Rotten Tomatoes. Perhaps it is the bias of a horror fan that is coming out to say the following, but to imply that this is far worse than something truly wretched like Meet the Spartans or Fantastic Four is just wholly, stupidly wrong. Much like another undeservedly-trashed sequel to a bigger film, it is far from a perfect product (a good half of its cast or crew have been outspoken about their dislike for the picture and feel that it's a blatant cash grab), but it's a watchable sequel with oodles of cheese and enough charm and pizzazz to help it stick a decent landing. I'm uncertain as to how memorable it will be for you in the long run, but for the time being, it is a fairly acceptable way to kill 90 minutes. Currently, the DVD is relatively inexpensive to purchase, and it can be viewed for free if you have a subscription to Starz and/or access to their on-demand library.



So, since this was a follow-up that took me by pleasant surprise, let us see if we can duplicate that magic outside of the realm of zombie movies.......

To say that 1995's Italian production Cruel Jaws makes for a particularly fascinating watch is one colossal understatement. The movie was marketed and released in many areas across the globe as Jaws 5: Cruel Jaws, and reuses themes and footage from a number of other, superior pictures (there's even teases of the beloved theme from Star Wars) involving these killer beasts of the ocean. In fact, for that reason alone, the movie has been extremely difficult to track down and is ineligible for a proper DVD or Blu-Ray release (though there always is the bootleg circuit).

Which leads me to utter the following: I have always been told that if you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all. Of course, that would make me a huge hypocrite given all of the trashing that I have done of lesser flicks from throughout the years, but I really do not care at this point. Regardless, I can comfortably say that the best aspect of the Grade-Z Cruel Jaws (outside of one of the lead actors appearing to be a doppelganger for professional wrestler-turned cultural punchline Hulk Hogan) was that it ended, and was mildly less torturous to watch than Up from the Depths. And even then, I will be debating with myself for a quite a while about such a statement.

....that's it though. No more is being said or typed. Nope. Let's just move on to tomorrow's entry, shall we?

Speaking of that, let's just say that my "theatrical" choice for this year's Unseen Terror was unlike anything that I have ever sat through...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 4

Relatively straight-laced officer Roger Mortis and his loudmouthed partner Doug Bigelow are called to the scene of a jewelry store robbery, and find it shockingly hard to kill the violent criminals responsible. Visiting a friend of Roger's, who also happens to be a coroner, they are informed that the two culprits had previously passed away before their act at the location had occurred. Discovering a preserve chemical found in the bodies of the deceased, the two trace it to a strange company that has been ordering it in bulk for a small amount of time. When things go awry during their investigation at the facility, Roger is killed. However, before his partner and friends can mourn for too long, they discover an unusual machine that is seemingly capable of bringing the dead back to life...



Choosing an entry for 1988 proved to be far more difficult that I had expected it to be. Mind you, it wasn't due to a lack of quality movies, but rather due to what I had not previously watched. There were many works of wonder released to theaters during that year, including Pumpkinhead, The Serpent & The Rainbow, The Blob, Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and many more that you should have already seen by now. For reasons unknown to even myself, I chose Mark Goldblatt's lone directorial effort, the action/comedy/horror project Dead Heat, which stars many people who I had legitimately forgotten had careers at one point in their lives. Perhaps that long-term memory loss was a good thing.


For a flick filmed and released twenty seven years ago, Dead Heat actually looks like it was from thirty seven years earlier instead. The color schemes and editing scream late 1970s, with even some of the dialogue and shootouts seemingly lifted from programs that are often looked back on with an almost ironic love by some of those "I Love The *insert decade*" shows. Heat's classification as a horror picture was slightly puzzling to me for its first thirty minutes or so, and its first truly horrific and memorable moment doesn't occur until the officers make a stop by a butcher shop (ran by legendary Chinese-American actor Keye Luke), wherein they are attacked by the reanimated corpses of some staples typically found in an Asian-themed restaurant. Truth be told, that was also when my doubt of it being a horror-comedy was erased, albeit while producing chuckles more than full-fledged laughs.


Speaking of staples, our officers are, for better or for worse, relics of their time. Treat Williams (Hair, The Phantom, 1941) seems like he's mostly being confined and held down, unable to let loose or have fun with what has transpired. Sure, he does eventually start to develop some sort of personality outside of being the prototypical good cop character in every motion picture or television show from the past four decades, but gosh does it take far too long. While blandness will almost always lose out to other's traits in pictures like this, it's far superior to the flat-out irritation from costar Joe Piscopo (Saturday Night Live). I won't lie when I will tell you that it was indescribably difficult to try and find a way to not repeatedly type "Shut the FUCK UP Joe Piscopo" for my review. There's a certain negative charisma to the guy, reeking of a certain pungent stench that just makes it impossible to laugh with (or even at) the guy. Eh, I guess that I shouldn't harp on this too much longer, so I'll just conclude with:

Despite a really fun supporting role from Vincent Price (who kills it even when he's on autopilot), and an admittedly fantastic finale (mostly due to minimal screen time from Piscopo and an excellent decaying sequence), Dead Heat is just such a tossup for me. It's a great idea (one of which would be slightly retooled for 2013's dreadful R.I.P.D.), but its execution is insanely frustrating. For every time that I was starting to enjoy the experience, something would just swoop in and steal the smile from my face. I suppose that I can say it's worth a try solely based on that previously mentioned third act and conclusion, but heed my advice and prepare for many moments that could make you grimace more than you may have wanted to this season.



Tomorrow, I decide to explore one of the more (purportedly) underrated gems from the slasher genre, wondering if we really will see Bruce Campbell and Renee Estevez in starring roles that were advertised to the home video market. I suspect that I may have been lied to again though.....

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 4

In a small New England town called North Port, a new, if not common problem has arisen: a rather sizable infestation of cockroaches has become more visible to the public eye. While this issue is being dealt with, various pets begin to disappear around the area, or worse, are found stripped down to their bones. Not long afterwards, people begin to vanish or turn up mangled as well. The town sheriff, along with his ex-girlfriend, an exterminator, and a small bastion of others, discover that the culprits may be much tinier  in stature than expected. Perhaps they should turn to their own Mayor Johnson, and the mysterious new scientist that has come to visit him, for answers relating to what exactly is occurring.

The opening to 1988's The Nest features our hero, the impossibly good-natured and accessible Hero McWhite Guy, drinking his coffee before he realizes that a cockroach is swimming in it. Naturally, this prompts him to spit it out and become quite upset. You too, may also gag out of sheer disgust and over the thought of it potentially happening on one random morning. If that doesn't set the tone for the rest of the picture and give you a hint about what you're in for, then I don't know what else does.

I was legitimately surprised to find that this creature feature, produced by Julie Corman and distributed by her infamous, but talented husband Roger, was released during the latter half of the 1980s. It has the feel and look of something that would have found its way into theaters during the big Jaws knockoffs period of the prior decade, which gave us some real gems (Piranha, Orca) and some pretty dreadful exercises in filmmaking (Tintorera, Barracuda). It even has a few of the ragtag misfits found in some of the former pictures, including a shady mayor who is concerned about the influx (or possible lack thereof) of tourists in his quiet community. Surrounding these old familiar stereotypes is the female sketchy scientist, who explains that these roaches, who have suddenly developed an interest in devouring human flesh quicker than a piranha ever could (ten dollars says that this will become a crossover within the next two years), were initially created in order to eliminate the common cockroach. Why the burning hatred you say? Well, despite them being a necessary evil and helping eat away dead matter, they're just plain gross and annoying.

Wait a minute...excuse me?

…alright. That…is the DUMBEST explanation that I've ever heard a person of any expertise give, even by "mad scientist" standards. There are a plethora of creatures that we human beings can not stand for the life of us, but there is always a purpose for existing, no matter the species or subspecies. The logic behind that motive is just nonexistent, but when you consider that the writer for this would help develop Cutthroat Island's screenplay, and that director Terence Winkless would spend most of his post-The Nest career directing select episodes of assorted live-action superhero programs, it shouldn't shock you that much. Despite all of that idiocy, the movie decides to also throw in a romance triangle between our hero, the local town diner waitress, and his ex-girlfriend, who has returned to North Port just in time for bug-hunting season. This entire subplot doesn't really amount to anything, as it really just serves as a quick breather or three in between cockroach-based murders and swarms. And speaking of the pesky, well, pests, there are quite a lot featured in The Nest. To call this the anti-Joe's Apartment would be an understatement. Katsaridaphobics (it's a real word, I swear!) will want to stay far away, especially when the vermin begin to develop their taste for human beings, and attack in any way or orifice that they choose to. They may revel in certain sequences involving mass roach genocide, though I certainly hope that most of the "main cast" didn't consist of real insects. My personal dislike of cockroaches aside, I don't like onscreen animal cruelty of any sort.

The Nest revels in ridiculousness, and it gets to be downright stupid by the time of the final act, which borrows way too much from the remakes of The Fly and The Thing. In spite of all of that, barring an intense fear of anything with six or eight legs, I actually would be willing to suggest that you give this one a watch. The film never really lulls, the performances are fine, and there's some pretty solid gore to keep your attention (I've been told that the uncensored cut pushes the limits of the 'R' rating, as does the novel it's based on). Plus it features the first, and possibly only cat-roach hybrid seen on the big screen.

And no, I am NOT going to research that. It's too much work. Besides, I still feel a little creeped out.

Tomorrow, Roger Corman takes a breather, and lets Lloyd Kaufman take over, as I look at Class Of Nuke 'Em High!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 13

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


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


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


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

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


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



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

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 7

Arriving in Boston, anthropologist Dennis Alan receives word from a pharmaceutical company of a new, mysterious powder in Haiti being used in Voodoo rituals, one that can supposedly reanimate the dead. The company hopes that perhaps this can be used to create potential anesthetics for the future, and send Dennis to Haiti in order to retrieve it. Upon arriving in the country, it doesn't take long before he finds himself drawn into the strange and horrifying world of black magic. 


So, this is "inspired by true events" you say? I sincerely doubt that there's some validity to your disclaimer shown before the title sequence Wes Craven.


Oh wait, this was actually based off of a book written by a Harvard scientist? Well, now I'm the one who looks like an idiot. Crap.............anyway, The Serpent and the Rainbow is loosely based on said book of the same name, wherein said scientist investigated a Haitian man who was poisoned, buried alive, and revived with an herbal drink, which resulted in him naturally being called a "zombie" by the natives. If White Zombie didn't teach you to stay out of Haiti already, this drives home that warning with an exclamation point or ten. It also may teach you to never, ever dabble in the practice of voodoo, which is far stranger and more bloodthirsty than a person like I could ever have imagined it could be.


During the time of shooting, there was much political turmoil in Haiti, which is incorporated into the film's script and felt tremendously throughout its running time. Everything feels ominous from the moment Dennis lands in Haiti, and it never really leaves the movie. Multiple local government officials couldn't guarantee the safety of the cast and crew during the shoot, essentially forcing Craven and crew to relocate to the Dominican Republic for the remainder of the film's completion. Nerve-racking to the say the least. But who can blame them? As much as I hate to say it, you really do get a feel for how exotic and fascinating, yet so corrupted and spooky Haiti and its obsession with black magic could truly be, especially during the creation of the powder itself.


Haitian Voodoo isn't the only thing director Wes Craven and crew have conjured up here to try and frighten you. There is a fairly unnerving torture sequence at the fifty-three minute mark of the movie, and the film isn't exactly nice to the claustrophobic crowd either with Bill Pullman (the only person you're likely to recognize here) having flashes of being buried alive multiple times by voodoo priests. In fact, most of the film does a good job at making the viewer question as to what is real and what is being hallucinated, even when Craven cuts back and forth from Haiti to America in the latter half of the picture. These very psychedelic-influenced transitions can create a mildly difficult plot to follow for those with an easily distracted mind (or for someone who is just plain tired), and I think might be the main reason as to why this isn't more popular with mainstream horror fans as Craven's other efforts are, like A Nightmare On Elm Street or Scream are. Serpent is also much slower-paced than those two films are, taking its sweet time to build to the revelation of the "zombie powder" or even a real main villain, who while admittedly is very creepy, you wished had shown up with speaking lines a tad bit sooner. Damn if he didn't have some horrible teeth too.


The final twenty minutes of The Serpent and the Rainbow are fairly chaotic, leaving the viewer simply breathless for a few minutes, and setting up for a potentially macabre, but almost fitting ending. Alas, I do think it kind of falls apart though. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't collapse under itself or anything severe like that, but part of its own solution feels like a bit of a copout, whether it was incorporating real life events or not. And the final "showdown" felt more like something lifted out of a slasher film, with elements from Masters of the Universe or a knockoff that was equally as cheesy. I'm still going to give this one a solid recommendation though. After all, it isn't often that you see horror films dealing with voodoo as a serious threat, and doing an effective job at making it creepy. Repeated viewings may increase an overall enjoyment, and help accentuate the positives.



Tomorrow, we see if the Cronenberg legacy can carry on with ANTIVIRAL!