Unseen Terror 2017: Day 30

Meek, seemingly aloof Carol lives with her older sister Helen in a small London apartment. When she is not near their abode, she works as a manicurist and interacts quite awkwardly with guests of the opposite sex. The day approaches where Helen tells Carol that she will be leaving for a vacation to Italy with her boyfriend, and that she must look after the flat. Soon, the younger sibling begins to crash without the presence of the person who helped keep her together, though one can't help but wonder if some of her newly-found traumatic visions are more seeped in reality than we could ever realize.



As this year's blog-o-thon wraps up, I felt like revisiting some familiar faces would not be the worst way for one to conclude the month. Luckily, I had the option of saying hello again to the controversial, but extremely talented Roman Polanski. Only two of his movies from throughout his filmography have made it onto Unseen Terror, with one ending up as one of my (now) top ten or fifteen favorite horror films. The other, while deeply flawed, was still intriguing enough to warrant a cautious recommendation to those of the more curious mindset. But at the top of my "to watch" list of releases from the French director was his second full-length piece: the simply-titled Repulsion. It's held in an incredibly-high regard by genre aficionados, with many citing main star Catherine Deneuve's performance as one of the most haunting and powerful in its history.


Well, those firmly in the more positive camp certainly were not kidding, as this is a truly great little picture, which when one considers that it was made for a little over $85,000, excels in a large number of areas that even its bigger contemporaries wish they could. Polanski and late, famed cinematographer Gilbert Taylor (Star Wars, The Omen, Dr. Strangelove) set up and shoot Repulsion in a way that can only be described as a perpetual mental breakdown with a main lead who could convince us that we too may be daydreaming, even when the horrible aspects have yet to come to light. After all, when your opening credits serve as an homage to infamous silent short Un Chien Andalou, you know what to expect. The apartment feels like a prison cell in poor Carol's mind, and the very slow descent into (further) madness is executed so well that it's very easy for the audience to feel as unstable as she is. It's one of the best shot depictions of psychiatric illness and utter paranoia that you're likely to see in your life; crawling in its approach and inserting some highly unusual visual tricks into the fold.


I briefly touched on Ms. Deneuve's portrayal as schizophrenic Carol, but it really does bear repeating since she's such a treasure. You feel scared for her wellbeing every time that she appears on screen, and even during the most frenzied of sequences (including a very tense one between her and a landlord), she remains slightly sympathetic. One can't help but want to dive deeper into her mind, and wonder if perhaps she is digging up painful memories that she hoped were covered up forever, or if maybe she's just terrified by ideas that are seldom experienced in her own daily life. Comparing Carol to an extremely fragile piece of art that is constantly swinging back and forth on top of a shaky holding area wouldn't be entirely out of the ordinary. Her costars are no slouches either, with Yvonne Furneaux (La Dolce Vita) and Ian Hendry (the UK's The Avengers) turning in good work as Carol's older sibling and the unwanted lover of her sister. Deneuve has this mentality of human contact being one of the most bizarre, if not terrifying concepts imaginable. The fear of intercourse (and to a lesser extent, loneliness) also plays a huge factor in Repulsion, though going into further details about why would be spoiling a lot about the picture.


Repulsion serves as an acquired taste, but for those who find the psychological horror field to their liking, this is a real treat and arguably one of the best in the field.  I've heard that Polanski considers this effort to be one of his more clunky pictures, and while I am still of the belief that he may not be a very good human being, there's no denying his importance to the genre. What little flaws it may have (if any) don't change the fact that it's an essential addition to the very large family tree of horror with many layers that if you are willing to dig through, will only make your respect for it grow larger. If you have some money to throw around, Criterion released a rather nice DVD and Blu-Ray several years ago, which features commentary from the director and Deneuve herself, as well as a plethora of other extras.



But neither of those discs contain any songs from "Horrified." Gotta dock it several points for that.




Tomorrow, we have finally reached the end! What ever shall be the final picture of this year's Unseen Terror? Well, if time is on our side (and I am thankfully off for Halloween), we could actually throw more than a few others into the concluding entry. Either way, stay tuned!

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 29

It's 1957, and cocky, promiscuous Mary Lou Mahoney is setting out to have a blast at her high school prom. Unfortunately, a series of freakish events result in the woman burning to death that very evening at the event. Thirty years later, the young Vicki Carpenter is searching for a dress to wear to her own prom and comes across a trunk that contains all of the departed Mary Lou's accessories and belongings. After opening the container, she unknowingly unleashes the vengeful spirit of the would-be queen of the dance, who returns to seek revenge for her untimely demise, and if possible, find a new permanent host for her essence.



As you may recall, this year's Unseen Terror marathon kicked off with my first time viewing of 1980's proto-slasher Prom Night. I found that even with some fairly obvious flaws, the flick was lively in all the right areas, and ultimately worth a recommendation. As with many franchises that have made appearances on this blog over the span of seven years (Hellraiser comes to mind), the temptation to check out all three follow-ups and its unwanted remake was high, but not vital. Alas, I did hear some good feedback from people on social media about how Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II was actually worth a watch. Thanks to various websites/services still refusing to cooperate with me, original choices Inseminoid and Breeders were thrown back into the pile once more. Room must be made for a motion picture that features a spectacled Michael Ironside accidentally murdering someone with a stink bomb.


From the get-go, the tone of Hello Mary Lou feels drastically different than its predecessor. Supernatural and psychological horror elements permeate throughout its crisp running time, which wasn't present in director Paul Lynch's slow burn. It may not come as a surprise to hear that independent film company Samuel Goldwyn got a hold of something that was not related to Prom Night whatsoever and suggested that it be tweaked and marketed as a continuation of the motion picture that came out seven years earlier. New film head Bruce Pittman doesn't seem to believe in patiently building to a big bang of a climax (though its own third act is quite wonderful), but rather to score home runs as soon as possible. This can be a disappointment when you factor in how calm the first Prom Night was during its first hour, and it felt as though the new studio heads wanted this sequel to follow traditional "modern" slasher guidelines. Still, there are a great number of franchise entries that share only the most basic of similarities with the movies that preceded them (Aliens comes to mind). And sometimes you just want to watch a body count pile up over time.


Speaking of that, the first victim, who resembles a more "80s"-fied version of Angela Kinkade in the first Night of the Demons, is the recipient of a death that hints of extravagance, but teases the audience with something that unfortunately doesn't occur. Perhaps watching that 4K restoration of Suspiria yesterday was a bad idea since it spoiled me on the visual aspect of lives being ended. Regardless, the kills in Hello Mary Lou have more impact considering that its cast of characters are far more likeable this time around. During the first Prom Night, nearly every single soul was a different shade of unsympathetic asshole, and it just made you a bit impatient since all you wanted was to see them die as horrible a death as possible. Lead actress Wendy Lyon (Anne of Green Gables) adds a very innocent, personable quality to Vicki, and you're just fascinated by her constant visions. She's a very underrated performer in the "scream queen" field, and has the aura of a young Daryl Hannah. Without going too much into spoiler territory, Lyon's protagonist does a complete 180 towards the end of Hello Mary Lou's second act, becoming completely unhinged and reveling in devilish behavior.


If you can ignore the fact that Hello Mary Lou's full title features the words "Prom Night" on the marquee and home video releases, you actually have an engaging, if not somewhat standard slasher picture at your disposal. The pacing is good enough that you never feel bored, the acting is fairly solid, and the whole shebang is just plain fun. I'd even go so far as to say that I personally enjoyed it more than the Jamie Lee Curtis-led vehicle that was released around the end of the disco era (side note: why didn't you do an updated version of the Prom Night theme?!). As of this writing, the first sequel is available for streaming over on Amazon Prime, and if you're feeling ambitious enough, it can be purchased for either paltry or absurd amounts of cash. I have to offer some advice on the former DVD though: it contains the infamously bad Full Moon Entertainment release known as Killjoy.



.....wait a minute, have I even seen that particular one? Ugh, might have to do some rearranging.....again.




Tomorrow, we're closer to the end, and hopefully we are NOT concluding with Killjoy.

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 28

On a dark and stormy night, American ballet student Suzy Bannon arrives at an airport in Freiburg, Germany. She has made the trip over for the purpose of attending one of the finest dancing academies in the world, but as soon she arrives to the premises, something feels amiss. Kicking off with the gruesome murder of a student, bizarre and unusual events begin to occur, with each becoming progressively worse than the last. Suzy also begins to experience visions and heavy dizziness during practices, with all of the teachers brushing it aside as nothing to be concerned with. Along with her other schoolmates, Suzy slowly starts to snoop around for answers, but what they unearth may be beyond even their understanding, and has a shocking, potentially supernatural history that spans several centuries. 



Well, this one will be rather hard to top.


While assembling the running order for this year's Unseen Terror, I had noticed something egregious and quite puzzling: I had never seen 1977's grandiose giallo triumph Suspiria. For as much as I have memorized its beloved soundtrack, my precious eyes had never been exposed to what many people call their personal favorite of Italian director Dario Argento's entire filmography. When news broke to me of a 4K restoration of the movie coming to select cinemas during the month of Halloween, I knew that finally adding it to my "watch" list was vital and of the utmost importance. After sitting through its one hundred-minute running time, I can't really be surprised by the praise that it is still showered with.


Suspiria's most memorable traits arguably come from its imagery and cinematography. As one of the very last pictures to utilize true technicolor, Argento and his crew take you on a ride that feels like entering a haunted house while on ecstasy. The murders seen throughout are gruesome, but they are shot in such a way that they feel like you're watching a well-known artist at the top of his game. It's the type of filmmaking and work that should be studied in classes that specialize in, or at least discuss the scarier side of cinema. This impressive technique is made all the more splendid if you ever get the chance to catch this newly restored print that has been touring the country, as the already eye-catching and shocking palettes are highlighted in a way that even someone such as myself can not properly describe. It makes Suspiria feel ten years younger, and aids the entire experience with leaving you feeling as if one is stuck in a never-ending nightmare (the performance of actress Jessica Harper as Suzy Bannon only accentuates the paranoia amongst our female leads). I was quite surprised by how alert and varied her facial expressions are: she looks constantly disturbed by her environment and the ensuing chaos that begins to build. Excluding Alida Valli and Joan Bennett, who play two of the school's superiors, a lot of the cast is overdubbed, but despite that pet peeve of mine, there is great effort put into the performers' physical actions and aspects. Keep an eye out for a much younger Udo Kier (Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, Shadow of the Vampire) as a psychologist who has a fair share of information to pass along to Suzy.


Like in Argento's prior motion picture, Suspiria isn't afraid to get down and dirty with the offing of several key players. If Profondo Rosso was Argento's "Black Sabbath," then this is his "Paranoid." The hits (pun intended?) are equally as extravagant as its predecessor, but lengthier in their agony. Perhaps the film's most memorable segment comes from a struggle between school student Pat Hingle (I can hear my NC friends all going "huh?" at the same exact time) and an unseen killer, which results in a painful and stunning death that just drips cool. Many instances of hair-raising moments are spread throughout, thankfully not suffocating the audience with a constant barrage of killings ala slasher pictures, but are carefully crafted and timed to keep the intrigue level high and the fear intact. Another driving force behind these pieces is the pulsating, haunting score by Goblin, who craft a majestic theme that plays in parts during a myriad of times in Suspiria, but never grows old. These compositions and events combine to create a finale that while certainly productive, does admittedly feel somewhat abrupt right before the end credits hit. Then again, this was also present in Profondo Rosso, so I can't really count that as a true complaint, especially when the buildup is so well shot.


Perhaps it's the late hours, or maybe I'm just too much in awe of what I just witnessed, but I don't feel as if I can add much more to the collective opinion of Suspiria's fans. It's a vibrant, suspenseful, and morbidly magical picture that needs to be an essential in every horror movie fan's collection, or for those seeking out extraordinarily unique works of screen art. Sadly, trying to purchase any copy of the flick on DVD or Blu-ray will cost you more money than expected, but fret not! Currently, cult video experts Synapse Films will be releasing this version in a gorgeous-looking Steelbook. Like other recent releases such as Phenomena and Popcorn, interested parties will just have to wait for several months afterwards in order to get a traditional Blu-ray.



But man oh man, that $49.95 price tag just might be worth it.




Tomorrow, come back for a movie! Probably a frightening one too!

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 26 & 27

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

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


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

And you thought I was kidding.

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

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



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



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

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


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


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


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



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




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

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 25

Famed psychic Helga Ulmann is holding a lecture for a small gathering of interested onlookers, but in the middle of demonstrating her abilities, she senses and calls out an unknown, malevolent force in the audience. Later that evening, musician Marcus Daly walks home and witnesses Helga, who happens to be his neighbor, being brutally assaulted by a mysterious, trenchcoat-wearing assailant. Though he is too late to stop the madman from ending her life, he notices a number of clues beginning to pop up after the police arrive at the scene of the crime. It doesn't take long for this killer to strike again though, which leads to Marcus deciding to team with reporter Gianna Brezzi, and the two begin to find themselves fending for their own lives while attempting to solve these unusually violent crimes.



Last year, I managed to obtain a copy of Italian giant Dario Argento's fantastic gem Phenomena. It resulted in a review that I'm still rather proud of, and the film was easily in the top three of last year's Unseen Terror marathon. But there was something that I feel was glossed over, or worse yet, straight up forgotten about during my writings: it was my very first full-length feature that I had ever seen from the legendary director. This was a shock to not only myself, but to the few others that I regularly discuss horror with, especially since at this age, there was no excuse to wait this long. So, I figured that the need to travel back and start from the (near) beginning was a wise move. Thus, Blue Underground's copy of Profondo Rosso (a.k.a. Deep Red) found its way into my hands, and I knew that we were good to go.


To my surprise, Profondo Rosso plays out more like a murder mystery than a straight up supernatural-based horror flick such as Phenomena. This almost became an obstacle for me, but I warmed up rather quickly since it would just be plain silly to dismiss an Argento film because of something so banal. Plus, there hasn't been a single Italian entry that didn't try and incorporate elements of something related to, but not necessarily contained within horror into the genre itself (even Monster Dog attempted to throw in a lycanthropic twist towards its conclusion). That did not stop me from being a bit irked though when it came to some very small details: the movie moves a tiny bit slower than I expected it to, though I've heard that such an issue is only present in the unrated cut (which I watched) and not the theatrical one. The plot can also become a bit jumbled if you aren't dedicating your undivided attention to the project. These may just be personal nitpickings of mine, but I suspect that I won't be the only newcomer who experiences these same issues, even if they are miniscule and could likely be eliminated with repeated screenings.


With those minor complaints out of the way, we can get to the meat and potatoes of what makes this Giallo production so darn good. Dario Argento is an absolute master of setting up murders in his pictures, and the ones seen throughout Profondo Rosso are some of the more devastating-looking ones seen so far during this year's iteration of thirty-one films in thirty-one days. One particular standout moment comes in the form of a person being drowned in scalding hot bathtub water. It's very simple, but agonizingly great in its execution. There are more than a few segments and thrilling events which will elicit a quick "OH!" response from fully invested viewers and even hardened veterans similar to myself. To say that the Italians are professionals at making death look glamourous would be a massive understatement. Something that is also immediately noticeable about Profondo Rosso once it starts up is the score, which is once again provided by instrumental progressive rockers Goblin. It's arguably the best soundtrack that the group has ever provided for an entire motion picture, with the brilliant use of keyboards and synthesizers just oozing cool and emitting this real sense of dread. Making the audience feel slightly claustrophobic and as if we could be going insane ourselves is no easy task. It's coupled together with some wisely done cinematography, which comes courtesy of the late Luigi Kuveiller. The film looks gorgeous, and with smart camerawork we feel as though we're occasionally stuck in a dream (an eerily similar vibe also spotted in Phenomena). Our lead actors also play their characters well enough that they have the same amount of genuine intrigue as you do, especially David Hemmings (Blowup), who despite spouting off some pretty dated-sounding sexist lines, is easy to identify with. Daria Nicolodi, a.ka. the future Mrs. Argento (and eventual mother to the vexing Asia) is extremely charismatic and spunky, making her presence a welcome addition to keep it from being nothing but constant brooding. It's a little strange seeing her and the other members of the cast casually go back and forth between speaking Italian and English both in the same conversation for reasons that aren't fully explained, but as I said in my review of Del Toro's Cronos, if Star Wars can get away with it, then by Lemmy others should be able to as well.


Seeing as how I am still somewhat of an Argento newbie, I am hesitant to call Profondo Rosso the man's masterpiece as many before have proclaimed. Hell, I haven't even gotten to any of his other more well-known movies (yet). But it is a very well-crafted piece of art that certainly stands out in a crowd full of much simpler, safer cinematic releases. Currently, there are multiple ways for one to purchase this Italian production, including several DVD releases and a couple of Blu-rays here and there. I'd advise picking it up before someone in Hollywood decides to remake it for no reason whatsoever.



Besides, eliminating a great composition such as this for something by say, Black Veil Brides?

Yeah, that would earn you a paddlin'.




Tomorrow? Well, I'm not quite sure what we're doing. Unless I become sick, the option of attending a Gwar show in Baltimore is highly likely. Because of that, we're either going for a revisit involving an otherworldly girl and circular objects, or heading to Poland to check out some mermaids. Stay tuned to see which one it is!

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 24

Well, I certainly didn't plan on doing a twofer today, but here we are. Given how bewitching both of these films are in their badness, I'm going to need as much liquid courage as possible if I have to write reviews for both of them.

I had only ever seen the cover art for 1984's Monster Dog while passing through my local video stores back in the day. It looked ridiculous, and while my younger self was admittedly a lot pickier when it came to cinema, these days I'm pretty much down for whatever is suggested to me. Besides, when has crappy packaging ever truly stopped me from taking the plunge and checking something out? Plus, it has everything that I like in my horror movies: it's an Italian production, features a rock star as its lead (in this case, it's Alice Cooper), and a killer creature or two.


But man, does this movie blow chunks. In fact, it practically projectile vomits them. Monster Dog's  concept is based around a musical performer driving back to his childhood home with his crew in tow, only to find that when they try to shoot a music video, they get into a heap of trouble that involves, but isn't limited to a pack of wild dogs that are on the hunt for human flesh and something that sure as shit sounds like lycanthropy. A fun idea in theory, sure, but so much of this production just feels like a misfire. Cooper isn't a terrible choice for a lead actor, but he appears to be so disinterested that the movie as a whole is brought down even more. It doesn't help that if you dig around for more information on the project, you discover that he was pretty down on his luck, and only agreed to do the motion picture if it was shown in the International market, but never in the U.S (spoilers: they didn't keep their promise). His costar Victoria Vera fares slightly better, but it's a shame that her character is so incredibly bland.


One of the most puzzling aspects of Monster Dog (other than the decision to cast a shorthaired Alice) comes in the form of its dialogue. Actually, if I can be more specific, the dubbing of said dialogue. I understand that most Italian horror flicks have a tendency to mix their audio rather oddly when they overdub their actors' performances, but it's so incredibly weird here because they make it sound as if every single member of the cast had this done to them. Much to my surprise, it turns out that Mr. Cooper himself was the only one whose lines were tampered with. It fools you initially, but you realize the nature of this deception once the gang reaches the house. Whoever voiced his character sounded ten years older than the shock rocker, and appeared to have grown up on a steady diet of 1950s sitcoms. Admittedly, the only laughs I got came from whoever dubbed the barks and growls for the canine enemies, as the pets themselves were borrowed from guide dog schools for the blind. Perhaps the actual behavior could have appeared to be more authentic had they told these companions about the fate of the protagonists in The Adventures of Milo and Otis?


Look, I try to find even the faintest of lights in the dark with nearly every picture that I come across, but god damn was it hard with Monster Dog. It almost redeems itself with the revelation of the titular beast during its third act (and a nice shotgun scalping beforehand), but it resembles an RC Cola version of something out of The Howling. And yes, it is watchable, with it occasionally diving into the "so bad it's good" category once in a blue moon. Still, that's a rather backhanded compliment, as it's just overwhelmingly stupid, suffers from grueling pacing, and doesn't know how to have nearly enough fun. If you feel like suffering for ninety minutes, you can pick up the Blu-ray from Kino Lorber, as it apparently contains a featurette on the making of this monstrosity. I will not be doing such a thing, as I have endured enough pain from this director for the time being



But heck, what would you expect from the individual who gave us Troll 2?



Alright, time to leave earth for a bit, and go to outer space!


.....but then go right back to earth.


*sigh*

Like Monster Dog, my only prior knowledge of Xtro came from seeing it on store shelves or from seeing advertisements inside the VHS or DVD cases for other releases. It certainly sounded interesting; a hybrid of Alien, Species, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind with a bit of family drama thrown into the mix. After the film concluded, the first thing that I noticed was that I did not expect Xtro to be as manic and unbalanced as it is. The second thing was how nobody who worked on this little ditty could have been sober during its creation and conception.


For starters, Xtro revolves around a father who was abducted by aliens long ago suddenly returning to his family's lives, but with very peculiar traits that begin to take effect on everyone around him. And that my friends, is the briefest, and most spoiler-free version of the vividly strange introduction that kicks this motion picture into gear. Because if there is one thing that Xtro delivers on, it's inherit weirdness and unexpected violence. There are sequences in here that could make more squeamish viewers (and particularly females) quite uncomfortable as they involve rape, pained/exaggerated childbirth, and many more. Adding in the rather good makeup/special effects is enough to make up for the quite amateurish acting (minus Bernice Stegers as the wife in the family), but not all of the time. Perhaps the only real weak spot in the technical/non-acting department comes in the form of the music, which sounded like more of a proper fit for something such as Home Alone rather than a science fiction/horror film that just throws everything at the wall regardless of whether it sticks or not.


I do hate to sound like a broken record, but did I mention that Xtro goes all out? Not since I viewed Society and Hausu have I seen something that experiments with the more unknown side of life and creatively explores a plethora of concepts that should not work on paper. The former abductee Sam Phillips (portrayed by the late Philip Sayer) provides most of these moments, which includes eating snake eggs and seemingly sucking on his child's shoulder for reasons that I won't get into. It'll certainly raise a few eyebrows, and I suspect that if one were to watch any of these scenes while on psychedelics, their brain could crack in two. One of the drawbacks of these is that it does begin to feel as though the writers and co/producers (which included New Line Cinema's notorious Bob Shaye) were trying to see how much they could get away with until they were told to stop. Regrettably, this leads to an ending that feels like an excuse to shock for shock value's sake.


Xtro is a beautiful, messy piece. The gross factor is high, its bizarre nature sometimes works against it, and it can be rather cruel to women. But unlike something along the lines of Monster Dog, I never found that I was bored throughout its running time, and because it is relatively cohesive, even counted myself as morbidly curious during its second half. In fact, because of how extraordinarily fucked in the head it is, I'll give it a recommendation for those who are seeking something truly unnatural and eccentric, but it isn't without a fair warning. Disappointingly, the DVD for Xtro is out of print (I had to watch my version on YouTube), and from what I've seen, it doesn't appear that there are any plans in the near future for it or its two sequels to receive another home video release. How someone like Arrow Films, Scream! Factory, or Synapse has not picked up this yet is beyond me.



But maybe they're afraid of potentially interviewing costar Simon Nash. He brings inanimate clowns to life after all, and that is truly terrifying.




Tomorrow, we hit the way back machine and visit an old Italian favorite for one of his more seminal pictures!

Unseen Terror 2017: Day 23

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

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

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


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

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

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

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




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