Bloodsucking Cinema

The box for Bloodsucking Cinema suggests it covers "The origin and evolution of the vampire movie." Given that quote, I expected a discussion that would start with the first vampire movies, and follow through with a chronological look that would focus on how horror's most popular cinematic creature had changed over the years. What I got instead was a poorly thought out, schizophrenic failure that brushes over the beginnings and holds neither to chronology nor evolution.

The first problem is the running time. At a scant 56 minutes and 39 seconds, the film couldn't possibly hope to cover nearly 80 years and hundreds of films based on vampires. Given that short time, I would've expected it to focus on a select number of truly important vampire films, giving prominence to Tod Browning's Dracula and F. W. Murnau's Nosferatu. Instead, director Barry Gray chose to include a select number of minor entries, many of which are appallingly bad. Ask yourself this: if you were making a list of vampire movies to show your non-horror fan friend, would you choose Van Helsing or Bloodrayne? I can hear the "Hell no!" from here. Yet Gray spends such large chunks of time discussing those films that I have to question if he's even a horror fan. His inclusion of Stuart Townsend would indicate to me that he's not.

Even when he leans on more trusted names than Uwe Bolle, I'm left perplexed. Masters of Horror directors John Carpenter and John Landis are supposed to add some weight and authority to the proceedings, but let's face it: Vampires and Innocent Blood are hardly bloodsucker classics (and on a side note, Carpenter apparently was too lazy to shave for his segment). When Gray goes outside the filmmaking community to the critics, he engages Leonard Maltin, which is good. I don't always agree with Maltin's views on movies (neither does Joe Dante, for those Gremlins 2 fans), but he always backs up his points intelligently. Unfortunately, in what appears an attempt at street cred, Gray also calls upon Harry Knowles, who is not nearly as well spoken or informed about film as is Maltin. If Gray had wanted to make his film everything that quote on the box suggested, he would've sought out film historian and horror critic David Skal, whose inclusion on many of the Univeral classic horror movie extras vastly enhanced the movies. Even adding Frank Langella, who did a classy job in the 1978 Universal update of Dracula, would've bolstered Bloodsucking Cinema's effectiveness. I don't know if either Skal or Langella were available, but I certainly wouldn't have slotted in Uwe Boll in their place.

As for evolution, the film covers flicks in non-sequential order. So even with a two minute segment on the historical Vlad Dracula, and brief commentary on Dracula and Nosferatu, there's no timeline that establishes how vampire movies have evolved. The vampires from the chosen films are all over the map, so there's not even the slightest suggestion of how the creatures have developed. Even with his poor selection of films, had Gray put them in chronological order he could've had some semblance of evolution. As it stands, there's not so much as a whiff of it.

Bloodsucking Cinema should've served two purposes: to take non-vampire fans and show them what they're missing; and to take hardcore vampire fans and give them a piece that respects and appreciates them. This weak entry does neither, leaving me to wonder exactly what purpose it does serve. Whether you enjoy your horror with some fangs or not, you can skip this muddled mess and know that you're not missing anything.

--Phil Fasso

Posted by Mike C at 03:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Madman

Beware the Madman Marz!

That simple yet effective tagline sells what could've been just another derivative slasher movie from the heyday of the cycle. But with some good scares and shocks and a few steps out of the slasher formula, Madman is a worthwhile little experience.

The movie begins with a cool looking credit sequence over a background of red, surrounded by a bunch of gnarled branches (designed by Madman Marz himself, actor Paul Ehlers). It then introduces the audience to a group of camp counselors as they tell scary stories to a group of kids around a campfire. After the camp owner tells the ghastly tale of Madman Marz, one of the teens makes the blunder of calling out his name, which all of the campers will regret as Madman answers the call. A number of grisly murders follow, as Madman has his violent way with the teens.

If all of this sounds like it's right out of Friday the 13th, well, it is. But this is most definitely a case of the devil in the details. Though writer/director Joe Giannone follows the archetypal formula for all slasher films, he sets a tone that is a little bit different from Sean Cunningham's work. For one thing, his camera work is more atmospheric. One point of view scene, as a character looks up to some tree branches, acts as a perfect example of this: is Madman Marz up in the branches, or are your eyes playing tricks on you? The synth driven score also goes against the grain, and some might find themselves preferring it to Manfredini's work on the Friday series. What sets the flick aside most greatly, though, is that Madman Marz is not Jason. Sure, his grisly murders could easily fit in a Friday movie, but having a different character gives the film a breath of fresh air. Ehlers does quality work in the role, a performance that could've gotten swallowed up in the makeup, but fortunately didn't. The rest of the actors are a little above par for this type of film, including Gaylen Ross of Dawn of the Dead fame (I wish someone on the commentary would've addressed why she appears under a different name). Giannone does some work early on to establish the characters, so they're a little more sympathetic than Teens A, B and C in the Friday movies. And if you think you know which characters will die and which are safe... well, you may be surprised by the movie's twists.

One of the nicest aspects of Madman for me personally is that it was filmed on Long Island, where I was born and raised, and have spent most of my life. Though I've never bought into the "You're from Long Island, so you should love (place name of homegrown entertainment here)," I always love when I can say, "Wow, that movie was cool. And it was made here." So while I think Billy Joel is way overrated, I can get behind Madman.

Anchor Bay only gave Madman a small package of extras, but they're solid. First, there's commentary by Giannone, Ehlers, actor Tony Fish and producer Gary Sales. The four sit together for a lively, humorous chat that covers much of the film's background and production. Most interesting is the story of how Giannone and Sales had to pound out a revised script on short notice; a few weeks before filming, they found out the Brothers Weinstein were making The Burning, and that both movies were based on the Cropsy legend. So they went and in a mad dash created the Madman. (I've reviewed The Burning for Icons also; give that review a look, as it's another quality slasher. If I had to compare, I'd give Madman the slight edge). Ehlers makes some really funny comments about his character, and there's much conversation about how the making of his mask and rubber hands altered some of the shots and the production schedule. And Fish' way of getting into character for his death scene is interesting, but highly unadvisable. It's definitely worth a listen. The film's trailer rounds out the extras.

For those who think the slasher cycle begins and ends with the life and undead times of Jason Vorhees, you really owe it to yourself to see this overlooked little gem. As with The Burning, it will satisfy fans of the cycle, while giving them something a little different.

--Phil Fasso

BUY IT AT AMAZON.COM!

Posted by Mike C at 03:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Never Cry Werewolf

I would've loved to have been present when the geniuses at Genius Entertainment got together for the pitch meeting for Never Cry Wolf. I imagine it went something like this:

"So I have this great idea. Everyone's into 're-imagining' old horror movies. So why don't we re-imagine Fright Night? Nobody's gotten to that one yet!" "Well, buying the remake rights would be expensive... Let's make it a werewolf instead of a vampire! They'll never figure out we ripped them off!" "Hey, we could use that Malcolm McDowell from the first one in a cameo! Fans must've loved him in the original!" "Yeah, but that Andie MacDowell guy's dead, I think... let's replace him in our flick with Kevin Sorbo!" "Hercules: The Legendary Werewolf Adventures! I love it!" "Anybody got a decent werewolf Halloween mask?" "Wait, did anybody here see Fright Night?" "Of course not! Do you really think that matters?"

Though I've never been a huge fan of Fright Night, I have to give it credit on a few points. It had an ambitious concept, and aspired to give a unique experience to jaded vampire fans. The actors, including Roddy McDowall, William Ragsdale and an effectively creepy Chris Sarandon, sold the material well. Its fans revere it for just those reasons. Never Cry Wolf aspires only to be a derivative product that is an insult to Tom Holland's well loved vampire movie, replacing all the things that made Holland's movie work with piss poor special effects, acting, casting (the heroine's mother is played by an actress who appears to be about 3 years older than the heroine) and plot. In doing so, it has the overall feel of a Sci Fi channel, something no horror fan would ever claim about Fright Night.

Nor should any horror fan find any joy Genius Entertainment's Never Cry Werewolf, which has no genius behind it, and offers no entertainment whatsoever. Do yourself a favor and watch Fright Night instead. That's what I'm going to do.

--Phil Fasso

Buy This At Amazon.com!

Posted by Mike C at 03:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Anthropophagus

Etymologies fascinate me. So when I first saw the word "anthropophagus," I easily broke it down to "one who eats man; cannibal." That I first saw it as the title of a cheaply made, sleazy Italian horror flick made me stay far away from Anthropophagus for years. In that time, I'd heard and read a slew of nasty things about the film: it was beyond tasteless; it had two infamously ghastly scenes; it had been banned in several countries. All of the above are true. In fact, it was among the "video nasties," a number of horror films that Britain's Parliament had excoriated in the 1980s. This is one of those titles that I had only seen for sale at vendors' tables at cons, and at 112 Video on Long Island. That video store carries an impressive selection of horror titles that one would never find at Best Buy. And yet, the other day at the Best Buy around the corner from my house, sitting on a shelf was Anthropophagus. Two discs. 10 bucks. Given the price and the controversy, I had to buy it. And I got exactly what I expected-- a lowbrow piece of Italian exploitation with some extravagant gore.

A little history is necessary before a synopsis. Sleaze merchant Joe D'Amato, whose real name is Aristide Massaccesi, had a script about a cannibal. He showed it to his friend, actor/screenwriter Luigi Montefiori, also known as George Eastman, who thought it was garbage. He struck a deal with D'Amato: he would rewrite the screenplay if he could play the cannibal. The two then tried to outdo one another by coming up with the goriest, most outrageous scenes. They released Anthropophagus in 1980 to a public that found it absolutely stomach turning. The film was banned in corners of the world near and far. In America, it reached the public in an edited version under the name The Grim Reaper. Not until 2005 with Shriek Show's release of the film under its proper title would the U.S. get the uncut version.

The movie starts off with a couple walking down a beach on a Greek island, as a musical motif that sounds like a cheesy carnival tune blares behind them. The woman peels down to her bikini and hits the water. The man puts on humongous headphones and soaks in some sun. The woman swims out to an abandoned boat. This is a cannibal flick, so it's not hard to figure where this is going. In the next scene, traveler Julia meets a group of Italians, including a pregnant woman, who are going on a month long boat cruise. They invite her to join them, and offer to drop her off at a Greek island. When they arrive to find the island basically deserted, the carnage begins.

Anthropophagus goes wrong in so many places, it's hard to believe. Even if one casts aside the incompetent acting, utter lack of logic, amateur cinematography and woefully ill fitting score, all par for the course with early 1980s Italian horror, there's still very little to save this from being total trash. Yet I get the feeling that D'Amato, a director who split his career between lowbrow horror and pornography, wanted it that way. It seems he knew the extreme limitations of his, ahem, talent, and figured he could make a living through sheer exploitation that went way past any boundaries of good taste. Whereas Wes Craven assaults those boundaries with Last House on the Left, for example, to comment on the human condition, D'Amato assaults them solely to induce vomiting.

D'Amato's attack on taste comes mostly through extreme violence, the most noteworthy examples being those two scenes that got it banned. Ironically, much of the earlier gore is poorly done; a head in a bucket looks so phony, I almost laughed. There's a hanging, several stabbings with a variety of sharp implements, and an interesting (though badly done) scene with a character's face getting skinned by roof tiles. But let's face it: no one would remember this film if not for the two infamous scenes. One involves the pregnant lady, and the other ends the film. It kills me that it would reveal too much if I described them (and it's no small spoiler that the Shriek Show cover outright shows the last one; shame on their marketing department!). But I can say that they're not only extremely shocking, but highly effective and creative. If more of the film's deaths had been designed like these two, it might have almost saved the movie from lining the bottom of the exploitation barrel.

The only times the movie truly succeeds are when Anthropophagus himself is on the screen. Eastman's makeup is grotesque, and he does a creepy job as the monster. His grimacing face, with demented eyes and chilling sneer, are terrifying. A scene where a character dangles from a rope as Anthropophagus climbs up from a pit scared the Hell out of me, which is no small feat. Unfortunately, the monster doesn't actually appear onscreen until the movie is well along its course. D'Amato tries to sell the mystery of what happened to the island's inhabitants at the expense of the movie's best character, and the film lacks for it.

The DVD, however, does not lack in special features. The first disc boasts both Italian and English language tracks (I'm a purist, so I only watched it in the Italian) and English subtitles. There are also a multitude of promo trailers that give away about 85% of the goods (and another three-- yes, three-- alternate titles, The Grim Reaper, The Savage Island, and The Beast; when the director, lead actor and film all fall under the auspices of the Horror Movie Relocation Program, everybody's got something to hide). These are of varying quality, repeat the same material ad nauseam, and boast either Italian or English text. There are also trailers for four other cheapjack Shriek Show features, one of which sports the acting skills of the great George Kennedy. But the disc's best special feature is only accessible after you go to the scene access. Return to the main menu, and when you shift between options, Anthropophagus' jaw and eyes move!

Much like Anchor Bay, Shriek Show seems to think every movie deserves the star treatment. For Anthropophagus, the company provides a whole second disc of extras. There's a section for four more cheapjack foreign horror films, that also includes a hidden trailer for D'Amato's magnum opus, Death Smiles at Murder (I couldn't make this up, folks; click on the red face for this secret gem, and see for yourself). For completists, there are two alternate openings. One merely changes the credits to English, for The Savage Island. The other is for the Grim Reaper; with its visuals and striking music, it's better than the film's actual opening. A photo gallery reveals a small number of lobby cards and the like.

Then there's the meat of the second disc. Actress Zora Kerova and Eastman himself appear together in "Spilling Their Guts," an 11 minute interview. They're both very forthcoming about working with D'Amato. Eastman has a good sense of humor, and relates some decent stories, while Kerova also discusses working with Lucio Fulci. For fans of Anthropophagus, it's worth a watch. To watch "Totally Uncut Two," one really needs to be a fan of D'Amato's body of work, and I wonder if any exist. The hour and seven minute documentary functions mostly as an interview of D'Amato, splicing in comments from Eastman and Al Cliver of Zombie fame, and acts as a career retrospective. As with other Italian schlockmeisters, D'Amato directed and produced in a number of exploitation genres, including sword and sandal flicks and action movies. Fortunately, he makes no pretenses about being a great director, and seems to understand that his output is generally trash. Accompanying the discussion are scenes from many of his films. I didn't really appreciate it for its full worth, but it's a nice piece for Shriek Show to include.

In the hands of a talented filmmaker, Anthropophagus could probably have been a seminal film. The cannibal roaming the creepy village could have amounted to a Texas Chainsaw type experience. Unfortunately, in D'Amato's hands, it evolves into nothing more than another piece of Eurotrash, meeting the director's low expectations and talent level. Yet there's something I like about this film. Eastman's cannibal stuck with me after the movie ended, which is an accomplishment. Any fan of the Italian zombie and cannibal cycles will eat this flick up and love every bite. All others will likely be left starving for what could have been.

--Phil Fasso

Buy Anthropophagus - The Grim Reaper on Amazon.com!

Posted by Mike C at 03:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Automaton Transfusion

Don't be fooled by the fancy title. Don't let the fact that this is an American movie deceive you. And certainly don't allow the copyright date to trick you. Automaton Transfusion is a wolf in sheep's clothing; though it was made in Florida in the new millennium, this really is the latest of the Italian zombie cycle from the 1980s.

Unfortunately, this isn't from the Fulci end of the heap. No, Automaton Transfusion comes right out of the Umberto Lenzi/Bruno Mattei bottom of the pile. In fact, it manages to outtrash the output of those two masters of incompetence. In doing so, it bottoms out as the worst zombie flick I've ever seen. If you're a fan of the 80s cycle, that's not a terrible thing. It's actually reason to rejoice.

For only could a fan of that cycle could appreciate the gaping logical caverns in the film, which I really must note here with bullets:

* The film opens with a mortician who works in a morgue (when he would rightfully be working in a funeral parlor)
* In a high school, a slobbering student attacks a teacher, and the school day goes on as if nothing out of the ordinary ever happened (police would have swarmed the school)
* A high school party is in full swing by 5:28 on a Monday night (I teach; this just doesn't happen)
* A highway is empty and a city is vacant, with nary a car accident (there would be chaos if an entire city tried to evacuate)
* A falling teen smacks her face on the poolside, spouting blood over the side of the pool, and yet there's not a drop of it in the water as she floats in the pool (blood spreads in water. Duh.)

And by far, the greatest "how the Hell did that happen?" I've ever experienced in a film:

* Lee, the high school janitor, is actually a military higher up who's been hiding in custodial bliss for 35 years, as the army experiments on creating zombie super soldiers!

Only a fan of the Italians could appreciate the ultra-poor level of acting, where zombies run at their meal only after they've stood still on camera for five full seconds. Or a film that was cast off a Myspace page. Or the herky-jerky cinematography, which makes the whole affair seem as if it were shot with my Nikon Coolpix 6 digital camera, and every sixth frame or so had been removed. Or several bizarre choices made by the characters, as they act in ways no real person would ever act, speaking some of the most absurd dialogue ever filmed.

And only such a fan could appreciate the film's level and style of ultra-violence. Gallons upon gallons of blood flow freely in all directions, in kills that rip off a multitude of the Italian gore fests. Not only do many of these kills steal from Fulci's Zombie (writer/director Steven C. Miller actually has the balls to thieve the Olga Kartolos eye gag), but from all sorts of Eurotrash disasters. By far the movie's most noteworthy death involves a pregnant partygoer. With it, the film manages to reach the absolute nadir of the whole Italian cycle. But sadly, even this cops from another movie; it's a direct steal from Joe D'Amato's cannibal flick Anthropophagus.

Most importantly, only someone out to please such a fan of the cycle could write and direct Automaton Transfusion and think he created something even remotely watchable. And Miller thinks just that. As proof, I refer you to his audio commentary, with producers William Clevinger and Mark Thalman. These three discuss the merits of just how much the flick "kicks ass," in turn throwing the whole horror genre under the bus that is their $30,000 production. In true Italian schlockmeister fashion, at one point Miller admits that many of the kills were inspired by death scenes from movie that Automaton's makers loved. Because no Italian director had much in the way of originality.

And only someone who wanted to please fans of the Italians would take an ultra low budget zombie flick, which is all of 85 minutes long, and have the testicles to end it with "To Be Continued." Yes, dear fans of the Italian zombie cycle, Automaton Transfusion is the first of a proposed trilogy! (Zombie 3, anyone? Thought not.)

Only such a fan would still be reading this review, at which point I'll tell you to watch the truly special features for yourself (could any film not from this cycle boast an actor who can't even pronounce the title?). If you love the film, you'll love them too.

Automaton Transfusion is the worst zombie movie ever. For most fans, that's the harshest condemnation. For fans of Hell of the Living Dead and the like, that's high praise.

--Phil Fasso

Buy Automaton Transfusion at Amazon.com...or maybe don't?

Posted by Mike C at 03:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Return of the Living Dead

1985: As George Romero planned to release the third installment in his Dead saga, Day of the Dead, first-time director Dan O'Bannon was about to take Romero's franchise in an entirely different direction. While Romero was intent on giving his audience "The darkest day of horror the world has ever known," O'Bannon was busy turning everything in Romero's universe on its ear. In the bargain, he created a black comedy that is a wickedly brilliant twist on everything we knew about zombies.

As O'Bannon describes it in the disc's featurette, this movie has an interesting back story. The original script, by Night of the Living Dead co-writer John Russo, was supposed to be a very serious, direct sequel to Night. O'Bannon, a screenwriter by trade, decided his rewrite had to veer away from Romero's work, without ditching all connections to Romero's franchise. When Tobe Hooper abandoned the project to make Lifeforce (from another script by O'Bannon, ironically), O'Bannon stepped in and fulfilled his lifelong goal to become a director.

O'Bannon's script starts the film at the Uneeda Medical Supply Co. in Kentucky, where Freddy is starting his new job. Sitting together in the office, his new boss Frank describes to him an intriguing revision of Romero's universe. It seems the godfather of zombie films created a fictitious version of real life events in Pittsburgh, and the real source of zombification is in the Uneeda basement: a barrel of Trioxin. Eager to impress his new employee, bumbling Frank leads Freddy to the barrel, and then accidentally opens it. This awakes some corpses, including half a dog (you've really got to see this to believe how great this gag is). Trying to dispose of the body parts with a mortuary's furnace only creates more zombies, and manages to turn some of Freddy's friends into living dead.

Had all of this been done seriously, Return probably would have functioned as a decent zombie flick. But O'Bannon turns the whole affair into a black comedy, and in doing so creates a classic. Some of it is outright slapstick, as in the scene where Frank's boss Burt tries to explain to funeral parlor owner Ernie that he's got a problem with rabid weasels, or where a zombie puts in a lunch order over a CB radio. The acting is crisp, with all the actors playing it tongue in cheek, as it should be. O'Bannon's script is sharp, and never allows the film to veer into bad comedy. It also never lets the audience forget that this is a horror movie. Behind all the jokes, this is still a black and frightening film. The perfect example of this is the military's final solution for the problem; it's funny and grim at the same time. Horror comedies almost always fail, but O'Bannon straddles the line between jokes and scares admirably.

O'Bannon's wisest decision was to take everything the zombie fan knew from Romero's universe and subvert it. Blasting these zombies in the head would not kill them (as Freddy and Frank discover when they try to follow the rules established in Night); in fact, nothing seems to destroy these undead. They run like panthers. They can talk. They can trick the living into becoming lunch, and they're only interested in brains. Their victims do not reanimate. These changes take the entire subgenre into uncharted territory, and give the movie an edge; anyone walking into this film expecting to find safety in the zombie rules swiftly finds himself in danger. Whereas every zombie film for nearly 20 years previous had followed Romero's template, O'Bannon's movie boldly reinvents things just as the master had, making Return of the Living Dead a standout film.

O'Bannon further elaborates about the movie in the disc's two main extras. "Designing the Dead" runs 14 minutes, and is comprised of two separate discussions, with the director and the film's production designer, William Stout. Stout spends most of his portion discussing the look of the zombies, and the influence of EC Comics in their creation. It's a nice piece, but I don't understand why it gives such prominence to Stout. He also contributes on the commentary, where he and O'Bannon discuss the film. The two men converse about all sorts of interesting background information, such as the real life genesis of Frank and Freddy's discussion about buying skulls with perfect teeth from India. O'Bannon is quirky, and thus interesting to listen to. Stout provides much of the technical information. Both men obviously appreciate the film, and so the commentary is a success. Three trailers for the film and some artwork round out the package. Since I got my copy years ago, MGM has re-released Return of the Living Dead in a Collector's Edition; it ports over the two main extras, and adds some new ones. I haven't purchased the new edition yet, so I cannot review the new material. But I can say that this movie's worth a double dip.

Released in 1985 about a month after Day of the Dead, Return of the Living Dead eclipsed Romero's film at the box office, and achieved some critical acclaim. Romero's darkest day failed to impress many fans by giving them more of the same, but O'Bannon's offshoot turned the zombie rules upside down and became an instant cult classic. It's a subversive masterpiece of black comedy, and one of the better zombie movies out there.

--Phil Fasso

Buy The Return of the Living Dead (Collector's Edition) At Amazon.com!

Posted by Mike C at 03:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Return of the Living Dead Part II

With Return of the Living Dead, Dan O'Bannon created one of the best zombie movies of the 1980s. With sharp writing and frenetic directing, he crafted a black comedy with one wicked sense of humor. As often happens with horror sequels, O'Bannon had no involvement in the next entry of the franchise, Return of the Living Dead Part II. In his place, Ken Wiederhorn would both write and direct Part II. To the regret of fans of the first film, Wiederhorn's end product is a much lighter piece that strives for broad comedy at the expense of horror.

Part II begins with a truck accidentally dropping a barrel of the first film's zombie reagent Trioxin off the back of his truck. When two bullies chase neighborhood child Jesse into a huge drainage pie, the three discover the barrel. Of course, one of them ends up opening it, and there's a zombie problem. But there are plenty of problems for the viewers as well.

A list of the protagonists is the first indication of trouble: 10 year old Jesse, his annoying sister, a young cable guy who's obviously attracted to her, and a drunk doctor. Why Wiederhorn decided to go with this group is beyond me, but it doesn't work. The film's problems go beyond its characters. Because this is a comedy, and there are children involved, the look is unusually bright for a horror film, as is the tone. Veterans of O'Bannon's film, actors James Karen and Thom Mathews return in Return Part II. This could have provided great comedic possibilities, if they were playing the same characters. In this film, they play two bumbling grave robbers who occasionally spout lines of dialogue from the first film. Bad enough that this attempt to establish a link between the two movies actually serves only to confuse, but it's worse that the two men just aren't funny here. That's not their fault, though. No, the blame falls squarely on Wiederhorn. His script forces them to replay their fates from the first film, all the while feeding them dialogue that is uninspired and just not funny.

In fact, Wiederhorn's major sin is how he relies so much on broad comedy, and does nothing to horrify. O'Bannon's script is loaded with humor, but it's black comedy; it goes for laughs, yet the film remains dark, and frightening underneath the guffaws. Wiederhorn seems to forget that his film is a horror movie at all. He relies instead on a slew of lame elements, such as an inebriated doctor constantly searching for his drink, a dancing zombie dressed up as Michael Jackson from the "Thriller" video, and a zombie head that bites fingers, then cracks bad jokes. If any of the film's material were actually funny, it might have had a chance at being a decent film. As it stands, with every joke falling flat, the film fails not only as a sequel to O'Bannon's far superior work, but as a horror film in general.

Wiederhorn acknowledges the inherent problems of the film's comedy in the disc's major special feature, an audio commentary. This track doesn't function so well, as Wiederhorn and its other participant, Thor van Lingen, were recorded separately. Though his part in the film is small, van Lingen probably speaks for about 3/4 of the commentary. His comments bear no relation to Wiederhorn's end of the discussion at all, so the whole affair is disjointed.. Sure, it delivers the occasional good nugget, such as how van Lingen got the role, and how the director developed the script for a writing course (it was originally unrelated to O'Bannon's movie, until the producer had him change it into a sequel). But the schizophrenic approach leads to a lack of coherence. I would have preferred it had the two men recorded it together.

The most interesting thing about the whole Return of the Living Dead Part II disc is the music. Vast chunks of the score have been replaced with alternate tracks, much to Wiederhorn's confusion and displeasure. But that's only on the English language track; watch the film in French, and you get the original music (and aren't you upset that Thor van Lingen doesn't do a French commentary?).

If Dan O'Bannon had directed a sequel to Return of the Living Dead, I can guarantee it would've been intelligent, darkly humorous, and entertaining. Left instead with Ken Wiederhorn's broad zombie comedy, I can't recommend Return of the Living Dead Part II to fans of the original, or to zombie fans in general.

--Phil Fasso

Buy Return of the Living Dead Part I at Amazon.com!

Posted by Mike C at 03:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Return of the Living Dead 3

Black comedy, broad comedy, no comedy at all. After the original Return of the Living Dead's dark humor transformed into a light, joking tone in Part II, Return of the Living Dead 3 hit with a grim tone that eschewed humor altogether. In doing so, it's a much better zombie movie than the second film, but it really doesn't belong in this franchise at all.

The movie begins in a military laboratory, with some army types working on reviving the dead, so the government can use them as soldiers. The old "super soldier" idea was clichéd by this time, but it sets up for some quality zombie action later in the film. When army brat Curt and his girlfriend Julie sneak into the lab for a night of fun (don't ask me how kids get their kicks), they discover a corpse's reanimation by way of our good friend Trioxin. Later in the night, as defiant Curt breaks off from his dad on his motorcycle, Julie in tow, he kills her in an accident. Anyone with a brain not eaten by zombies should be able to piece together where this is going.

Fortunately, this turn of events leads to plenty of well done gore. As Julie tries to stave off eating Curt, the two cross paths with a surly gang, and hide in the sewer with the Riverman. As her appetite increases, Julie pierces her flesh in a multitude of places, hoping the pain will dull her need to feed. Actress Melinda Clarke is beautiful, so the effect of her half naked body run through with steel and glass is both repelling and alluring. She certainly rivals the Cenobites in her disgusting sexiness. As this is a zombie movie that delivers what it should, there's plenty of brain eating and a torn head with accompanying spine that would suit the Mortal Kombat universe well. Though the DVD is not the unrated version I've heard so much about, there's still plenty of brutal bloodshed to satisfy the gorehounds.

The film does have a few downsides, the first of which is the acting. Clarke holds her own, crafting a sympathetic victim, but J. Trevor Edmond as Curt is God awful. His acting makes him a lot less sympathetic than this film's hero should be. The gang members are played as stereotypes, as is an Asian grocery store owner. Sarah Douglas and the guy who played the grandfather on Charles in Charge mail in their performances, and James T. Calahan, as Curt's military dad, has that stiff, effected look the whole film. Sure, poor acting is par for the course in horror films, but it doesn't do this one any favors. But by far the major problem I have with Return 3 is that it functions as a sequel to the first two Return films at only the most minimal levels. Take out the barrel of Trioxin and substitute any other revivifying agent, and you've got just another run of the mill horror film. Taken on its own, it's a fine horror film. Taken as a sequel to Dan O'Bannon's first film, it doesn't fit at all.

As with the discs for the first two Return films, Return 3 sports commentary, by way of two tracks. Writer/director Brian Yuzna, familiar with zombies from his work on the Re-Animator films, provides the first. His discussion of the film's Romeo and Juliet aspects is interesting, as are his comparison of Romero's Dead franchise with Return's mythology and thoughts on when a zombie becomes a zombie; but much of it functions as a nuts and bolts talk about background and production, with frequent spots of dead silence. The second track is a discussion between Clarke and 2nd unit director Thomas Rainone. I really like Clarke. Her recollections from the actor's perspective are interesting. Unfortunately, Rainone cuts her off almost every time she speaks. I guess nobody ever taught the man common courtesy. Worse, he's boring and cracks jokes that only he would find funny. This second track is a missed opportunity. If only Clarke had joined Yuzna. I think that would have made an interesting conversation.

An absolutely mirthless sequel to a sequel bent on comedy, Return of the Living Dead 3 is a good zombie movie. Just don't go into it expecting great acting, or a real sequel to Dan O'Bannon's master work, and you should enjoy this one.

--Phil Fasso

Buy Return of the Living Dead 3 at Amazon.com!

Posted by Mike C at 03:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The Tingler

William Castle is the greatest showman the horror film has ever known. Not a particularly talented filmmaker, Castle made up for his flaws by coming up with gimmicks that made his movies events. The Tingler was his greatest achievement, not as a movie, but as a piece of pure showmanship and gimmickry.

The plot sounds high concept, but it's just an excuse for Vincent Price's scientist to spout some of the most outrageous dialogue ever put to film. While doing an autopsy on a convict killed in the electric chair, Dr. Warren Chapin pontificates on his theory about how fear can physically manifest itself and kill a man. He strikes a quick friendship with the convict's brother-in-law Ollie, and they go to have coffee with Ollie's deaf-mute wife. His connection with the couple guides him to his discovery of the Tingler, a rubber toy pulled with a visible string across the floor in certain scenes. His findings lead to a number of over-the-top scenes: in a show stopping performance, Price ingests LSD and takes filmdom's very first acid trip ; a murder scene in the black-and-white film provides a bathtub of full color blood; Price and his wife have several exchanges about killing each other (writer Robb White has some real issues with marriage); and then there's the famous climax in the movie theatre. I won't ruin anything, but Castle pulls out all the stops for what is a memorable, if hard to take seriously, climax.

Things such as ridiculous dialogue, outlandish plotting and an obviously phony monster almost always serve to detract from a movie. In fact, in many of my reviews, I've slammed films for containing these very faults. But I have to praise Castle here. Before you go calling me a hypocrite, let me explain. Castle never meant for The Tingler to be a good movie. For him, it wasn't about the product; it was about the event. Castle made better films in his career, including Strait-Jacket and House on Haunted Hill, but The Tingler is the one everybody remembers, and with good reason. Sure, it's a dumb film. But it's dumb in the best possible way. Taken as intended, these flaws actually improve the movie.

A goofy plot and a silly monster were not enough for Castle, though. As The Tingler traveled from theatre to theatre, Castle prepped certain seats with Percepto, a vibrator that would shake the viewer at key moments. Though I've seen the movie several times, I've never had the privilege of the Percepto experience. So somehow, I feel I've never gotten the full effect, and that's a shame.

Though Columbia Pictures didn't include Percepto with the DVD, the company does supply a small group of extras that are in the vein of the film. The major special feature is "Scream for Your Lives," a 16 minute featurette with interviews of several people. Actor Darryl Hickman discusses how he didn't want to be in the film, but he gets a kick out of Castle, and Vincent Price. Hollywood collector Bob Burns talks about promoting the film when Castle came to town; and hey, he got to strap a Percepto to a seat! Price biographer Lucy Chase Williams provides unintentional humor as she tries to explain the film's plot. And horror film historian David Skal gives some history. It's a short piece, but all these people appreciate The Tingler in some way, which makes it a good piece. One minor quibble, though. Whoever shot it should've adjusted the color, because everyone looks bleached out. The disc also includes a voice over from Castle that replaced Price's voice at one point in drive-in theatres. For some reason, there's also the Price voice over as a separate feature, but this is totally unnecessary. Some talent files and trailers for The Tingler and Night of the Living Dead round out the disc. The Tingler trailer is neat, because Castle talks directly to the audience. It's worth a watch.

William Castle was never going to be a great director, but he was always a great entertainer. His gimmicks and promotional ploys are legendary stuff among horror fans who love schlock. The Tingler is not my favorite of Castle's films, but it deserves its place as his crowning glory. It's not a great movie by any means, but it is most certainly great fun.

--Phil Fasso

Buy The Tingler at Amazon.com!

Posted by Mike C at 03:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)