Icons of Fright DVD Reviews

THE SENTINEL

2009-11-13T02:55:06Z

]]> THE SENTINEL

Sometimes I watch a film and I can’t tell whether it’s brilliant or trash. This type of film is usually so audacious, so beyond the realm of what a normal movie-going experience has to offer, so lurid in aesthetic and storytelling, that it confuses my senses. The answer should be obvious: the film is brilliant trash. One such film is 1977’s THE SENTINEL, Michael Winner’s flick that sets the gold standard for such flicks.

As with so many other religious horror films, this one starts off in a church in Rome, and a conversation with priests about impending doom. But that doesn’t even begin to tell the story. The movie then shifts to New York, where it chronicles the life of model Alison Parker, who wants to move out of her boyfriend Michael’s apartment. After her father’s death, Alison meets a realtor who offers her an incredible deal on a vast, furnished apartment, which she can’t refuse. Upon exiting, she looks up at her new building and sees someone staring down at her from a high-up window; the blind Father Halliran. It should come as no secret that there’s something wrong with the priest, the building and Alison herself.

I’m afraid a plot summary could not close to express just how whacked out this film is. It’s probably better if I explain some of the odd occurrences. At the 20 minute mark, Burgess Meredith shows up as Charles Chazen, Alison’s neighbor. He’s accompanied by a parrot on his shoulder and a cat in his hands. He introduces the parrot, stating, “This is Mortimer. He’s from Brah-zil,” as only Burgess Meredith can. The cat’s name is Jezebel, and later in the film, Chazen will throw the feline an insane birthday party, complete with party hat for the guest of honor; at the soiree, a phrase as innocuous as ‘Black and white cat, black and white cake” becomes an unhinged motto. An encounter with the lesbians on the first floor makes the flesh crawl, as Beverly D’Angelo’s Sandra, dressed in a red leotard, suddenly begins to masturbates on a couch in front of Alison. When Alison asks her partner Gerde what the two do for a living, the big German replies, “We fondle each other.” Sex is filthy in this movie, as in the earlier flashback when Alison walks in on her decrepit, aged father having a threesome; the camerawork is absolutely lurid as it zooms in and out on the dirty old man’s leering face. A dream sequence that reconfigures the cat’s party is abundant in both nudity and sleaze. As disjointed scenes roll one into another, offering no progression but that of a bizarre nightmare, Alison’s reality rapidly falls apart.

More disturbing than any of these scenes, though, is Winner’s dementedly inspired casting choice for the climax of the film. In a move that echoes Todd Browning’s, the director cast real freaks as the monsters from Hell, a decision that not only drew great outrage against the film at the time of its release, but perfectly fit the film’s tawdry aesthetic. There’s something seriously tacky in Winner’s casting choice, and yet for THE SENTINEL, it seems not only the right choice, but the only one.

If all this sounds gaudy and exploitative, that’s only because it is. But it’s exploitative genius. Winner’s film is so bold in its imagery and ideas, so far out there past where any sane film takes its audience, that I absolutely love it. It’s the horror genre’s answer to a John Waters film. Ironically, the film only falters when it bogs down in more mundane storytelling, as it involves the police and tries to explain what is happening through the trappings of a crime procedural. Its offers to decipher things theologically, with Arthur Kennedy popping up throughout the film as a priest who knows Halliran’s secrets, falls flat as well. If the movie had only stuck to its chosen path, these answers would be unnecessary; because there are no answers to a nightmare.

My favorite aspect of THE SENTINEL is Winner’s choice casting. In between ROCKY movies, Meredith was playing lots of oddball parts in oddball horror movies; this is my favorite of them, as good old Burgess is absolutely outlandish, and plays Chazen to the hilt. Cristina Raines does a great job of falling apart, growing paler and seeming thinner and thinner in later scenes. As Michael, Chris Sarandon walks the line between caring boyfriend and potentially dangerous sociopath perfectly. Ava Gardner doesn’t belong in her role as Miss Logan, the realtor, which is exactly why she belongs in that role. And if you’re going to choose an aged actor to play a creepy, blind priest who stares out a window all day, would you choose anyone other than John Carradine? No, because John Carradine was born to play that role.

I’ve read in a number of places that THE SENTINEL was supposed to be Universal Studios’ answer to THE EXORCIST. With its religious elements, it should fit right alongside movies of that ilk. But it’s not a classy affair as THE OMEN is, nor is it as restrained or as high-minded as THE EXORCIST. That much I knew when I first saw it. What I didn’t know was whether it was brilliant or trash. The answer should have been obvious. As so often the case is when I come to question a movie as such, it’s because THE SENTINEL is brilliant trash.

--Phil Fasso

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ALLIGATOR

2009-11-12T17:05:40Z

]]> Alligator

In an era when JAWS rip offs were proliferate, screenwriter John Sayles was a hot commodity. His output was responsible for two such films, the first of which was 1978’s cheeky, low budget PIRANHA (see review here), which foreshadowed the humorous touches to horror that led to director Joe Dante’s early success with THE HOWLING and GREMLINS. Sayles’ second plundering of the big shark tale was ALLIGATOR, a middling effort that foreshadowed just what a mediocre horror director Lewis Teague would be. It’s hard for me to watch ALLIGATOR without wondering how good a flick it could have been had Dante directed it, instead of Teague.

The plot for ALLIGATOR is absolutely preposterous. A little girl’s parents take her to watch gator wrestling. After a bunch of quick cuts that indicate a wrestler just got mauled by a gator, the family returns home. The girl plays with her pet, a baby alligator. Dad, an overbearing blowhard who’s possibly abusive, takes the gator and flushes it (in a POV shot from the swirling inside of a toilet bowl, no less). Flash forward. A pet store owner with male pattern baldness funds animals for illegal genetic research. A cop with male pattern baldness investigates body parts found in the city sewer. His bald boss tries to keep the city from fear. A supersized gator who’s naturally bald taunts the cop with more and more body parts. A reptile expert who’s not bald hooks up with the cop, both professionally and in bed.

And then there’s the hunter that the cops bring in to kill the gator. The idea of hiring a great white hunter to patrol the city streets with a rifle in hand is just silly. The fact that he hires black kids off the streets as “natives” to help him track the alligator is insulting. The fact that the hunter is played by Henry Silva... well, that is ludicrous.

More ludicrous than the gator itself? Perhaps, but that’s too close for me to call. The creature is portrayed in two ways. The first looks as if it cost the majority of the film’s budget, a rather large mock up of a gator. Teague mostly uses this version to show his monster tearing with its teeth and massive jaws. It’s moderately effective. In fact, it’s much better than the alternative; because Teague could not get the mock up to move down streets and toward victims, he used a baby alligator on obvious miniatures of sets. If this movie had any chance of being credibly scary, it was gutshot by this goofy looking attempt to make a baby gator look big and dangerous. Especially when Teague has already treated us to watch a sibling flushed down a toilet with a POV shot.

And yet, I really believe this could have worked, had Joe Dante directed it. Dante would have brought a zany energy to the film, playing it for the joke it should have been; in short, it would have succeeded because it would have been PIRANHA (precisely the reason Dante would never have done the film). Teague doesn’t know quite what to do with the material. He plays much of the film as a gruff cop drama, but there’s no mystery here at all, because the name of the movie is ALLIGATOR.

Features abound like those body parts the police keep finding on this DVD. Look to the trailers for other Lions Gate films to see how millions of dollars of poorly done CGI can look just as silly as a baby alligator on a miniature set. The first of the two main features is the commentary track with Teague and lead balding actor Robert Forster, moderated from someone from Dark Delicacies. Teague tended to be repetitive on the other two commentaries I’ve heard from him, but with Forster constantly asking “Do you remember when...?” and the moderator prodding him, he’s merely dull here. This track might have had a shot at being interesting had it included Sayles, who’s not boring. Fortunately, Sayles gets his own 17-minute featurette, “Alligator Author,” during which he discusses many of the reasons for the things he included in his script for the film. And he explains why he had to change his ending more than once to preserve the gator mock up (I couldn’t make this one up if I tried, folks).

When John Sayles was writing ALLIGATOR, he was also drafting a script for Joe Dante’s follow-up to PIRANHA, a werewolf film called THE HOWLING. For both films, he was given a previously written script, and told this: Keep the title and the monster, and do whatever you want with the rest. There’s not a little bit of irony in the fact that Joe Dante directed THE HOWLING, which many consider a minor classic. Given the same talented writer, Lewis Teague put forth ALLIGATOR, a laughable horror film where the laughs aren’t intended and there’s not much horror. It’s an interesting dichotomy of what two directors can do with a common writer.

--Phil Fasso

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HOWLING III: THE MARSUPIALS

2009-10-17T19:39:09Z

NOTE: Mad Man Dan's review of HOWLING III covers the Region 4 version of the disc. Special features might vary in other regions.

]]> HOWLING III: THE MARSUPIALS

Directed by: Philippe Mora
Starring: Barry Otto, Imogen Annesley, Leigh Biolos, Ralph Cotterill
Reason for existing: TBA

AUSTRALIA… home of many things: beautiful beaches, cricket, barbequed shrimp, a sandwich spread made from the same stuff as beer, not to mention a strange and still unexplained tendency to put eggs atop anything remotely edible. Oh and it’s also the birthplace of one of the undisputed kings of so incredibly bad that it borders on sense numbing, brain damaging, seizure inducing idiocy… no, scratch that. This thing crossed that threshold long ago. It’s nasty, it’s putrid, it’s rather hilarious, it has an odd odor to it that’s kind of like that time you opened your cupboard and found that dead rat in there. It’s Howling III: The Marsupials.

Let me preface by saying, this is a werewolf…

And this is a marsupial...

I hadn’t seen THE MARSUPIALS in a long while, and I suspect that was my subconscious trying to protect me from all memory of it. But during a conversation with Fasso, he brought up the flick and decided that it needed a revisiting, and who better then a Down Under native to do it. “What the hell,” I thought; it wasn’t THAT bad… was it?

Yes Dan, yes. It was that freakin’ bad.

So if you didn’t already know, there’s werewolves living throughout the great Down Under. Oh and in Russia, of course, but that doesn’t come into play until late. Jerboa (played by the rather gorgeous Imogen Annesley) lives with her family somewhere in Australia, and she too is a werewolf and a much sought after piece of were-arse apparently but Jerboa ain’t serving, so she decides to make a run for it. She winds up falling asleep on a park bench in the middle of Sydney, only to wake up to the sight of some guy later identified as Donny, who spots her from a mile away, leaps out of his car and proceeds to chase her half way across the park and corner the frightened girl.
Turns out the over enthusiastic bastard is working on a movie called Shape Shifters: Part 8 (a title almost as inspired as HOWLING III: THE MARSUPIALS) and despite having only just met the rough looking bush girl, lying barefoot on a park bench in the middle of a rather scrupulous city, he believes her to be the perfect person to play the films lead. Yeah, because the “I’m going to rape you” approach works every time!

Despite only knowing each other for only a day or two, Jerboa and Donny fall in love and bump uglies one insanely hot night (seriously, nobody should sweat THAT much, not even during sex). A bigger mystery than Donny’s amazing sweat glands is: How, during his passionate night of oblivious interspecies love making, did he not notice Jerboa’s strangely hairy stomach or for that matter HER FREAKIN’ POUCH!!!! That’s right kiddies, the weregirl has an actual pouch.

Jerboa gets pregnant and ends up giving birth to a baby werewolf, which is brought to life by dressing a mouse up in a full body baby wolf costume (I kid you not!).
With her wolfy nature made public, she becomes the target of a bunch of military types and – with the help of her three werewolf sisters disguised as nuns – goes on the run with Donny and old mate Professor Beckmeyer, the typical crackpot-theory-believing type who has dedicated his life to the discover of werewolf existence.

Oh, and at some point, there was a Russian werewolf ballerina named Olga. Yeah, can’t forget her. She transforms into a werewolf mid-twirl and gets all gushy over the ol’ prof.

If there is one foreshadowing of just what type of film THE MARSUPIALS would turn out to be, it’s that the filmmakers actually named the Jerboa’s village FLOW. It’s called FLOW as in WOLF spelt backwards…NILBOG anybody? That’s right THE MARSUPIALS is the Australian TROLL II. It’s just that bad, and yet has enough B-Movie charm to it to entertain you, even if it is that “dirty little black book” mistress you keep secret from family and friends. I mean for Christ sakes, she has a freakin’ pouch!

But honestly, how did THE HOWLING, a genuinely awesome movie, end up here, left to rot beneath the Australian sun and layered with slices of process celluloidic crap!? I think where THE MARSUPIALS ultimately failed as a film was that it just wasn’t a werewolf film. Director Philippe Mora was trying too hard to say too much in too little a time. That said the thing is Schlocktastic with a capital “CRAP;” whether the filmmakers were trying to make it that way or not, the film never seemed to take itself too seriously. When you have a dancing werewolf, a trashy film within an even trashier film you were already watching, and more absurd twists and turns then an M. Night Shyamalamadingdong movie, how could you take any of it seriously? Not to mention… she has a POUCH! An actual pouch!! Is that not the most absurdly hilarious notion, concept, thought, idea or image you have ever come across? Most people consider The Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf to be the better of the two super schlocky entries in the condemned series but too all them I say: NO WAY! Let’s see your she-were-bitch take on Olga the flying ballerina wolf!!

If you like you’re werewof movies dripping in cheese and good old fashion what-the-Hellery, then look no further then HOWLING III; THE MARSUPIALS…Coming to a $2 bin near you. – Danny

Editor’s Note: I don’t know if the Region 4 disc includes it, but the Region 1 has a commentary track by Mora that absolutely has to be heard to be believed! Mora seems to think he’s a legitimate filmmaker... which he’s not, the same conclusion you should reach if you’re watching HOWLING III: THE MARSUPIALS! Listen to this only if you want to enhance the cheese of the movie itself, as Danny suggested! Oh, and $2 might be much, as Amazon currently has it listed as cheap as 62 cents American.

--Phil Fasso

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THE CRAZIES

2009-10-14T03:29:50Z

]]> THE CRAZIES

Between NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD and his next zombie film, DAWN OF THE DEAD, George Romero’s career followed a frustrating path. NIGHT was a critical and financial success that would one day be considered a classic. His next three films, however, were not greatly lauded and, for various reasons including poor distribution, went largely unseen by his fans. The third of these was THE CRAZIES, and though it has the name value of neither NIGHT or DAWN, it is one of Romero’s best.

The film starts off with two children in their pajamas who find their father destroying the house. He’s already killed their mother, and soon sets the house ablaze. As the film progresses, the audience discovers that the military has accidentally infected the water in Evans City, Pennsylvania, and its citizens are going quickly insane. The story then follows five uninfected people who try to escape not only the crazies, but the soldiers as well.

Thematically and structurally, THE CRAZIES strongly resembles NIGHT: survivors from a plague hole up to escape once-normal citizens who now offer threat; the authorities botch their handling of the situation, and offer little protection to those they’re upheld to protect; and in the absence of sound-minded authority, society goes screaming into total chaos. (During the film’s commentary, Romero even draws attention to the opening of the film, in which a brother and sister are in a normal situation that goes suddenly awry) The films are so close, in fact, that THE CRAZIES acts as a perfect if unofficial bridge between NIGHT and DAWN. If there’s one difference here, it’s the focus of the commentary. Romero’s key note comes in the question, Who is really crazy, the unbalanced masses, or the destructive military? The crazies may lack sanity, but the powers that be, as represented in the film, lack conscience and soul.

Romero’s greatest tool to propel that social commentary is his visual palette. No longer restrained by black and white, the director presents a world colored by the lush, green forests of Evans City and the blood red of those mowed down. The omnipresent white-suited soldiers with their black masks and assault rifles are like angels gone wrong. Romero’s burgeoning editing is also on hand here, favoring quick cuts over lots of camera movement. The plot is often disturbing, making the film hard to watch at times, but that only makes it more potent; because the movie’s subjects are not zombies but people, it’s a frightening prospect that this could actually happen.

If I have one criticism, it’s one I have with many of Romero’s films: the performances. Shouting often replaces nuance, and scenery seems to exist solely for actors to chew. I understand that in crisis, people would likely take to arguing, but Romero far too often lets his actors engage in unparalleled histrionics (think Joe Pilato in DAY OF THE DEAD). But Romero is such a craftsman that I can forgive him. And THE CRAZIES offers an early glimpse at DAY’s Dr. Logan himself, Richard Liberty, who plays unhinged with the best of them.
Blue Underground hinged together a nice package of extras for the DVD, the first and best of which is a commentary with George Romero. The company’s head and fellow filmmaker himself, William Lustig conducts the discussion, and it’s a great one. The two cover all sorts of background material, the plot and how the film influenced Dustin Hoffman’s film OUTBREAK, while putting on a school for low budget filmmakers. I generally love Romero’s commentary, but I find that sometimes he plays down to his company; here that’s not a fear, as Lustig, who also started out directing on meager budgets, keeps him on his toes. This may be the best commentary Romero has ever done.

The other main feature is “The Cult Film Legacy of Lynn Lowry,” a 14 minute discussion with her about her career. Lowry is, to be polite, quite a character, and her film career is a series of oddities during which she acted for both Romero and David Cronenberg. And you even get footage of her lounge act toward the end! You have to see this one. Two theatrical trailers and a pair of degraded TV spots that are a little more tame do a great job at presenting the film’s crazy microcosm, and a robust stills gallery and bio of Romero round out a deep, high quality set of special features.

THE CRAZIES came out in 1973, five years after NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD and five before DAWN OF THE DEAD. Though not many people saw it then, it’s a crucial tie between the two that also stands alone as one of Romero’s best. Essential viewing.

--Phil Fasso

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TRICK R TREAT

2009-10-12T23:31:20Z

]]> TRICK ‘R TREAT

For the many of you who watch John Carpenter’s HALLOWEEN with reverence on its titular holiday, you’re going to have a new companion piece for years to come. Yes, TRICK R TREAT is that good, and while it will never replace Carpenter’s film, you’ll have a wonderful double feature to go with your Halloween candy.

You may already know that Michael Dougherty’s project was shelved for more than two years. There’s speculation as to why, but I can say this: it certainly was not based on the quality of the film. TRICK ‘R TREAT tells a set of interweaving stories set in small town Ohio. It starts off with a couple heading home to some horrific results, and never lets up from there. You’ll find homicidal neighbors, werewolves, a busload of special needs ghouls and the movie’s mascot, Sam. Unlike CREEPSHOW, characters cross over from one tale to the next, creating a uniformity of story, and an effect much like that of PULP FICTION, with a touch of the old Amicus stories. Like Romero’s work, the movie revels in being gleefully creepy, in the vein of VAULT OF HORROR or ASYLUM, with Sam serving as a silent Cryptkeeper.

This is a stylish movie, both in performances and settings. Dylan Baker is pitch perfect as an odd school principal, humorously channeling the ghost of Paul Lynde (of course, this may be because we watched this immediately immediately following the PAUL LYNDE HALLOWEEN SPECIAL); Brian Cox is inspired as his curmudgeonly neighbor, and several others round out the cast with above average performances. For a movie that relies on a creepy atmosphere, the set pieces are beautiful. A spooky bog and a woodlands party both sport lush cinematography and genuine ambience. Clearly Dougherty, for a first time director, knows how to create an old Universal rolling fog with the best of them. TRICK ‘R TREAT relies little on CG, and a lot on old fashioned atmosphere.

Sadly, the DVD itself offers little in the way of extras. Dougherty’s Halloween-inspired cartoon is here; it’s a witty little piece, even if I guessed the payoff. The cartoon gets a commentary by Dougherty, which includes a nifty tidbit about his blood. But the feature itself gets no commentary, and this is criminal, as I really would have enjoyed listening to the director discuss his labor of love at length. Folks, you don’t even get a trailer on this one. A shame.

What’s no shame for the end of this month is that you can finally add a new film to your Halloween viewing, and a high quality one at that. You now may be speaking the name “Dougherty” right next to “Carpenter” every October.

-- Phil Fasso and Mike Cucinotta

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HELLBOUND: HELLRAISER II: 20TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION

2009-08-06T16:40:02Z

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Hellbound: Hellraiser II 20th Anniversary Edition

I’ve read a lot of Clive Barker’s fiction over the years, and I’ve always found his shorter fiction superior to his longer works. Restraining his wild imagination to a limited amount of words, Barker is a master of the macabre; but when given free reign and a thousand pages, his novels become complicated, convoluted and confusing. The reason the first Hellraiser worked so brilliantly was that Barker based it on his novella, The Hellbound Heart. Hellbound: Hellraiser II has no literary basis, but shares many of the problems present in his long novels.

The plot of Hellbound is so confounding that it’s actually beyond my understanding, so it’s much easier to list some of it’s elements. Julia’s back; as is Kirsty, joined by a psychic teenager; there’s a mental institution that I think transforms into some literal version of Hell; the Cenobites, all powerful demons in the first film, are here, and get beaten pretty handily. And then there’s Dr. Chanard. I defy you to watch this movie, and tell me with a straight face that his Cenobite self isn’t being carried around by a giant penis. If only all these could play nice together. Bloated and confusing, the further the script goes, the less sense it makes. The Lament Configuration itself would be easier to solve than the film. Much of the blame falls on Peter Atkins, who wrote the script in Barker’s stead, but at least part responsible is Barker, who was constantly on the set in his role as executive producer. Because the plot is such a mess, there’s no way I could ever like this film, even if the Cenobites are still among the best monsters in all of film.

As with the reissue of Hellraiser, the new Hellraiser II disc has a multitude of extras, many of which carry over from Anchor Bay’s previous release of the film. I’ll cover them separately below:

Repeat: Commentary with director Tony Randel and Ashley Laurence, moderated by Peter Atkins. Missed greatly is Clive Barker’s presence, which gives me the idea that this film isn’t so much Barker’s vision. It’s a decent commentary, though listening to Randel isn’t really enchanting.

Repeat: Lost in the Labyrinth: A 17 minute featurette, it’s a companion piece to “Resurrection” on the first film. It’s got some good insights, but it’s too brief.

New: “The Soul Patrol.” 22 minutes of interviews with the three other actors behind the Cenobites. Nicholas Vince, Barbie Wilde and Simon Bamford are all affable, and provide some cool insights and background stories. Definitely worth a watch.

New: “Outside the Box.” A 15 minute interview with Randel. He discusses his earlier career under Roger Corman, his work on Hellbound, and the problems with its release. Interestingly, the director himself describes his film as “marginally successful” and states, “there’s a lot about the film I can’t watch.”

New: “The Doctor Is In.” A 14 minute interview with Kenneth Cranham, which appears to have taken in a piano bar. His comments on Gary Oldman’s envy and Randel’s ignorance of Lady Macbeth are precious.

New: “Under the Skin, Part II.” Doug Bradley’s observations on the film. I love listening to this man. You should too.

Some trailers, television spots and a stills gallery round out the package.

So, should you buy this if you have Anchor Bay’s original release of the film? I had a conversation with Rob G, my boss and editor at Icons, and he said the upgrades made the purchase worth it for him. In honesty, I went back and forth as to whether they did the trick for me. When I realized I still had my old copies of Hellraiser and Hellbound, the answer was clear. If another 45 minutes of interviews are enough to sway you, go for it.

Hellbound: Hellraiser II would have benefitted had Barker devised a story that was stark and streamlined, as the first film was. Instead, unfettered by the other hands involved, he, Atkins and Randel created a distended, unfocused mess that many fans nevertheless love. It’s not for me, but if you like the first film, you may enjoy this continuation of Pinhead’s saga.

--Phil Fasso

HELLRAISER: 20TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION

2009-08-06T16:33:29Z

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Hellraiser: 20th Anniversary Edition

In the pantheon of movie maniacs, the top tier is dominated by Leatherface, Michael, Jason and Freddy. Cresting the rim of the second tier is Hell’s minion himself, Clive Barker’s creation, Pinhead. He earned this reputation on the strength of the first Hellraiser movie, a superbly crafted horror film that stands out because of its bold originality and its methodical villains.

Hellraiser is the twisted tale of a twisted family. Travelling a world that has run out of perverted pleasures for him, Frank Cotton purchases a puzzle box that, once he opens it, releases the Cenobites, fetishist angels of darkness. When his brother Larry and new wife Julia arrive at Frank’s old house, a moving man accidentally spills blood and awakens Frank. As the adulterous Julia attempts to get him new flesh, the Cenobites come calling for the escaped Frank.

Put plainly, Hellraiser is a superior. All the pieces fall together perfectly, with its offsetting score, stark scenery lit brilliantly, and cast of monsters both human and otherworldly Even if Andrew Robinson is a little flat as Larry, or Ashley Laurence a bit raw as his daughter Kirsty, Doug Bradley’s performance as the Lead Cenobite we would come to know as Pinhead is powerful and, in a dark way, charming. The rest of the Cenobites are a rogue’s gallery of fetishistic fright, as the creatures define the film and differentiate it from so many straight slasher movies. The film transcends the genre, taking it to bold new places into which horror rarely forays, and we have Barker to thank for it. Hellraiser is the perfect example of one man bringing his vision to the screen. The movie is a direct translation straight from Barker’s dark, twisted imagination to the screen, as if the movie projected itself right out of Barker’s id. This is probably the most artistic horror film I’ve ever seen, paired with guttural images that shock and disturb. Barker’s ability to balance the two is impressive.

The new Hellraiser disc has a multitude of extras, many of which carry over from Anchor Bay’s previous release of the film. I’ll cover them separately below:

Repeat: A commentary by Clive Barker and Ashley Laurence, moderated by Peter Atkins, acts as a love letter from Barker to his fans. 15 years removed from the film, Barker is honest with his doubts as a first time director, and the discussion seems to take him back to a very happy time. Atkins does a great job in keeping the conversation flowing. Laurence, however, is silent for much of it, but I think that’s because she understands that this is really Barker’s film.

Repeat: “Hellraiser: Resurrection.” This 24-minute documentary begins and ends with Doug Bradley reading from Barker’s novella The Hellbound Heart, over scenes from the movie. Clive Barker then claims that this is the last he’ll ever talk about Hellraiser. Thankfully he provides some quality insight, as do Ashley Laurence, Doug Bradley and several others. This documentary is entertaining and informative, well worth a watch.

Repeat: The stills gallery and trailers.

New: “Mr. Cotton, I Presume?” During this 16 minute interview, Andrew Robinson discusses his part in Dirty Harry, his role in Hellraiser, and his subsequent reason for not appearing in Hellraiser II. He’s happy with the film, and his part in it. Worth a watch.

New: “Actress from Hell.” Bear through the ridiculous first minute of this 12 minute interview, and then Ashley Laurence provides some interesting information on how she got hired for the movie, and what it means to her. Most interesting is her discussion of Kirsty’s appearances in other films from the franchise, which don’t please her nearly as much as the original. Again, low volume.

New: “Hellcomposer.” Christopher Young rambles on for 18 minutes about the score.

Be aware: For some reason, the volume is incredibly low on these three interviews.

New: “Under the Skin.” Doug Bradley discusses his relationship with Barker, and about the perils of working under extensive makeup. It’s always a pleasure to listen to Bradley, because he’s intelligent and dignified, and has a great voice.

New: TV spots, trailers and a DVD-ROM of the script round out the package.

The question with a re-release is always “Do I buy it if I already have the earlier version?” In this case, no. Unless you’re a completist, four new interviews are unlikely to add much for you. If, however, you’ve never owned Hellraiser, this is the definitive version, the only one you should buy.

So why, based on this superior movie, isn’t Pinhead in the top tier with the other maniacs, considering his first film is better than most of their catalogues? I think this has everything to do with his greatest strength being also his greatest weakness. Unlike the others, he’s refined and well-spoken, a literate gentleman who also happens to be a monster. He’s too classy for most horror fans. This is a crime, and I’d hope that when future generations look upon the pantheon, they’ll reorder it and put Pinhead in the top tier.

--Phil Fasso

LAST HORROR FILM, THE

2009-08-04T18:07:51Z

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The Last Horror Film

Every so often, a picture comes out that pales in comparison to its back story. As is almost always the case when this occurs, the final product is a muddled mess, a victim of a troubled production and its own lavish excesses. So it was with Elizabeth Taylor’s bloated epic Cleopatra, with Taylor’s “illness” and love affair with Richard Burton, a total of three directors, and its absurd budget, (when adjusted for today, it would have cost $297 million). And so it is with Joe Spinell’s The Last Horror Film, one part slasher flick and one part vacation to Cannes for Spinell and company, no part great movie.

It begins with Spinell’s New York cabbie Vinny Durand watching a horror movie. obsessed with horror and scream queen Jana Bates, he’s convinced she’s going to star in his magnum opus. So he travels to the Cannes Film Festival (where she’s being voted Best Actress over the likes of Meryl Streep and Faye Dunaway, no less) to try and get her to sign on with the film. Upon his arrival, those around Bates start to get killed. Because the film portrays Durand as an unbalanced stalker, it makes every attempt to sway its audience to believe that he’s the killer. But is he?

More importantly, will you care? Sadly, the odds are you won’t. The problem is, sympathizing with Durand is nearly impossible. Spinell portrays him as a pathetic, desperate dreamer who’s taken his obsessions to an unhealthy end. Whether he’s responsible for the killings, he’s got delusions of grandeur that make him dangerous; several times, the film compares him to Mark David Chapman and John Hinckley Jr., two men who lost the ability to draw the line between fiction and reality, and killed John Lennon and attempted to kill President Reagan, respectively. The film seems to want to excuse Durand by showing how violence is everywhere, but I don’t buy it. It’s even harder to sympathize with Jana Bates, because Caroline Munroe’s performance is extremely limited. When a horror movie can’t generate audience sympathy for an innocent victim, it’s failed.

And then there’s the other film here, a travelogue of Spinell’s vacation in Cannes. Many of the festival’s excesses, from the lavish parties to naked beauties on the beach to the five star hotels, are on parade across the movie. In his commentary, Spinell’s best friend Luke Walters discusses how the production ran several million dollars over budget, and the staff had to sneak out of the Ritz Carlton in the middle of the night. Clearly, Spinell and the production team were more concerned with partying than the film, and it shows. Many of the film’s scenes were improvised, such as when Durand crosses an elevated hotel sign, and when he chases a near naked Bates through a hotel lobby. As a result of the loose production, Last Horror Film is a sloppy effort that could have benefitted had its makers tightened it up and reeled in its star.

It’s hard not to compare the Last Horror Film to Spinell’s more popular grindhouse effort, Maniac. Judd Hamilton, the film’s writer and Munroe’s husband at the time, certainly intended this, as here he reteamed Spinell and his wife in an effort to capitalize on the earlier film. As anybody who read my review of Maniac will already know, that film is powerful and effective, because it wallows in its grime. But Frank Zito is a much more layered character than Durand, and tonally Maniac is a much darker film. Had Spinell taken both Durand and Last Horror Film into that territory, perhaps it would have been more successful. As it is, it pales in comparison, as does Spinell’s performance.

Our unhinged friends at Troma have re-released The Last Horror Film as part of the Tromasterpiece collection. Actually, they released the film once before under its other title, The Fanatic, without any extras, but this time Troma wasn’t shy with them. First there’s Walters’ aforementioned commentary, which is more interesting when he discusses the film’s back story than the film itself. He’s also involved with what’s billed as a half hour interview, though it runs several minutes short. The highlight of this, sadly, is when a man who runs the local diner where Spinell used to go has no memory of him. Even more morose is the piece’s end, where Walters cannot find Spinell’s grave. A short interview with Maniac’s director William Lustig is even more depressing, as he talks disparagingly of Last Horror Film’s production. There’s also the first 10 minutes of Mr. Robbie, a proposed sequel to Maniac. It’s slapped together roughly, and gives just a taste of what the finished film could’ve provided. Clearly, it’s no Maniac. A number of trailers for Last Horror Film under both titles round out the package. There are also some Tromatic extras, a bunch of trailers for recent releases from Troma. Conspicuous by its absence is the Radiation March; this is a great letdown (Watch any other Troma disc and it’s there). And if you watch the movie without the introduction from Lloyd Kaufman, Troma’s co-founder and creator of the Toxic Avenger, you are committing a crime.

Be forewarned: Troma put The Last Horror Film together from some inferior film elements, so the picture is a mess in spots. But it’s the best they could do.

Clearly, however, this film is not the best that Spinell could have done. Had he and the producers been more intent on making a coherent film than taking an all-expenses-paid vacation to Cannes, it would be more the topic of conversation than the drama behind the scenes. No one in his right mind would ever put Spinell in the same league as Liz Taylor, but they were equally capable of creating a bloated mess.

--Phil Fasso

PROWLER, THE

2009-08-04T18:02:40Z

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The Prowler

As a big fan of Tom Savini’s effects work, I’m surprised it took me all these years to see The Prowler, especially when some fans have told me it’s got Savini’s best stuff. In fact, it so impressed Friday the 13th producer Phil Scuderi, that he hired director Joe Zito and Savini to make The Final Friday. Given this pedigree, I was surprised that The Prowler didn’t come close to living up to its hype.

The plot goes like this: At a graduation dance, a jilted WWII vet returns to kill his lover and her new beau with a pitchfork. 35 years later, new college kids decide to have a graduation dance. Conveniently, a psycho killer has escaped a few towns over. As the dance begins, so does the body count. The girl who organized the event and the young deputy try to stop the killer as the night goes on.

I can forgive The Prowler for suffering from the usual sins of its genre, which include bland acting, an overwrought score and silly dialogue. But I can’t be so forgiving to the plot. The script leaves so many loose ends that it plays like a first draft. Major Chatham, who seems early on to be a major player and even grabs the heroine by the arm, disappears from screen entirely. The movie sets up the dance hall as its central location, and then drops it entirely as the leads hunt down the killer, arriving at Chatham’s house for not one long scene, but two. The last scene in the hall has another old pervert licking his lips as he watches two teens engage in sex in the basement; of course, there’s no payoff at all, as the audience never sees these three again. And please don’t give me the argument, “It’s just a horror flick; who cares about logic and plot?” Because when you do, you validate every argument that people make against our beloved genre. This movie needed at least one rewrite, and probably two or more. As it stands, this script of The Prowler should never have made it out of development.

Worse, the script gives Savini very little to do. Instead of focusing on a high body count and his trademark creativity in kills, The Prowler spends most of its time trying to build suspense as it follows its bland leads. The buildup is decent, but let’s face facts: a slasher film is defined by its kills, and they’re far too sparse here. When Zito lets Savini loose, his work is among the nastiest of his entire catalogue; a shower scene is particularly nasty, as is a knife through the head. If only there were more.

The main extra on The Prowler is a commentary by Zito and Savini. The track’s got some interesting anecdotes, including one about a used coffin. But be forewarned: Though Savini’s done some great tracks discussing films with George Romero, here he’s a mess. He forgets much of the script, and the names of several people involved in the project. Zito has to do a lot of work in reigning him in, and seems mildly annoyed with him at points. There’s also Savini’s behind-the-scenes recordings, which show a lot of the effects work in creation.

In a market that was soon to become glutted by slasher flicks, The Prowler is one of the subgenre’s less than stellar efforts. A sloppy plot that leaves too many questions unanswered and doesn’t provide nearly enough gore or kills produced a film that got Zito and Savini the fourth Friday film. But it’s a pale shadow of even a lesser Voorhees flick.

--Phil Fasso

DEVIL DOG: HOUND OF HELL

2009-08-04T17:58:10Z

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Devil Dog: Hound of Hell

When my Icons of Fright compatriot Mike Cucinotta first mentioned Zoltan: Hound of Dracula a few weeks back, I thought he was talking about a different film. After all, as a film reviewer for Icons, I’ve become good friends with what I call the Horror Movie Relocation Program, my title for horror flicks that, for one reason or another, go by more than one name. When he informed me I was wrong, I knew I couldn’t escape reviewing both films.

Devil Dog begins with a group of Satan worshippers buying a German Shepherd, which they mate with Satan (apparently the Prince of Darkness can’t get a date himself?). After Mike and Betty Barry find their own German Shepherd dead in the street, a Satanic peddler gives daughter Bonnie and son Charlie a puppy to replace the family pet. When the Spanish housekeeper begins to suspect that Lucky the pooch may be more Devil than Dog, she dies mysteriously in flames. Flash forward a year, and Lucky manages to exert his influence over the family and the neighborhood: he transforms the kids and wife into soulless disciples; kills several people in the neighborhood; and, in a mind bending sequence, nearly forces Mike to run his hand into a lawn mower blade.

Regrettably, Lucky primarily does this by looking like a happy German Shepherd with a wagging tongue, and not at all like some demon spawn. That is, until the filmmakers dress him up in feathers and horns in two key scenes; though the intent was to toughen him up, the effect is absolutely laughable. As the dog rarely appears on-screen (odd, considering the film’s title), the film follows Richard Crenna’s Mike as he attempts to vanquish the demon canine and save his family. Crenna delivers a solid performance, despite the silly material and the sea of melodramatic actors around him. He’s about the only competent element in Devil Dog. But then again, this is a made-for-TV movie that stole its name from a Drake’s cake, and considered it a casting coup to pair the kids from Disney’s Witch Mountain series. So this is probably what he should have expected.

Astonishingly, Devil Dog gets a 2-disc set. There’s an audio interview in which director Curtis Harrington slams the movie. “To the Devil a Dog” is a collection of interviews with producer Jerry Zeitman and actors Kim Richards and Ike Eisenmann. Though Zeitman is excited and thinks the project deserves some credence, these are some dull discussions. Some trailers for Shriek Show films (but not this one) round things out.

1978 was a banner year for demonic hounds. Ultimately, Devil Dog is superior to Zoltan because it’s got a slightly higher production value, and the pacing isn’t quite as torpid. This doesn’t mean that Devil Dog’s a good movie. Barring Crenna’s performance, it’s a silly affair that will elicit more laughs than screams, just as Zoltan will. My advice to filmmakers: Keep the Devil Dogs to the snack counter.

--Phil Fasso

RED MIST

2009-07-29T07:21:38Z

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Red Mist

It’s always been popular to pitch a new idea for a film as a combination of two things that already exist. The famous “______ meets ______” formula helps make it easier for studio executives and fans alike to digest the fresh concept by comparing it not one but two things that they know in advance. Of course, there are some inherent flaws in this system: it instantly states that there is little originality in the new project, as it rips off two works, and those original works will invariably be far superior to this hybrid child. When I watched The Red Mist, I couldn’t help but view it as “I Know What You Did Last Summer meets Shocker.” Considering that I was never a big fan of the former (though Lois Duncan’s novel is quite a good read) and many fans of the latter don’t find it to be among Wes Craven’s best work, that does not bode well for the film. Though moderately enjoyable, director Paddy Breathnach’s final product offers nothing that hasn’t been done before, in two separate movies.

The film begins with mentally deficient hospital worker Kenneth in the morgue, intercut with scenes of what I inferred to be young Kenneth watching a woman get beaten to death by her lover. Kenneth has a knack for playing with his camera phone, which becomes a key plot point later, though Breathnach leaves the obsession underdeveloped (similarly, Chromeskull had an obsession with recording things in Laid to Rest, which I recently reviewed. An odd coincidence, or a trend in horror?) Cut to a scene where a group of med students lose a patient in a simulated operation. Catherine is automatically going to be our Heroine, because she’s the only who cares about this, and she’s pretty but a little on the plain side. Kenneth, though, apparently thinks she’s gorgeous, as he films her, fully clothed mind you, in the ladies’ locker room. Later, when our group has to prove that they’re every cliche of college students, they go to blow off some steam at a local bar and party a lot more than they should. When Kenneth arrives, they blow him off. But after a series of events, they manage to damn near kill him. Catherine wants to call an ambulance and do the right thing, because she’s obviously the Good Girl, but Sean suggests they leave him to die, and under resistance, that they dump him on the road in front of their hospital. He does so because he’s obviously the Careless Affluent Jerk. All parties swear they will never speak of the event again, because this is obviously I Know What You Did After You Failed the Simulated Operation.

The second act takes the film in a totally different direction. Catherine tries some radical, unproven technique on Kenneth’s comatose body, because she is so obviously the Savior/Helper. Unfortunately, she’s not exactly the Great Doctor; so she inadvertently gives Kenneth the ability to exert his will from beyond his own body. This can only get ugly, because in true Shocker fashion, Kenneth has so obviously become the Beyond the Door of Death Killer. In predictable fashion, he invades the bodies of several other people and does his best to dispatch the group of so obviously Hot & Trendy Med Students.

Even if this movie were not a concoction derived from two ill-fitting parents, there are several other inherent problems with it. Every character down to the last comes straight from the Generic Stereotype Generator. Cardboard cut outs populate this film, which does the predictable plot no favors. Given these limitations, the actors do little to expand on the character types. Only Arielle Kebbel does anything to distinguish herself from her one-dimensional character, as her facial expressions and voice convey concern for Kenneth, but even then the character is thin. The film’s biggest sin, though, is that it gives me nobody to sympathize with. First it asks me to root for a retard stalker who’s potentially harmful, and then it asks me to shift my sympathies to a group of snotty brats who almost kill said retard. If I didn’t like Catherine (hey, I’ve always been a goody goody myself), I would’ve shut this movie off 20 minutes into it. But even her character cannot save the film from being so-so at best.

The one thing I really liked about the film was the recurring motif of Catherine running. Metaphorically, at the beginning of the film she’s running into the problem at the bar; later, she’s alternately running to try and fix things, or running away from the bar incident. This also showcases the film’s location in Northern Ireland, as she runs on rainy days where foreboding sky always threatens rain. Interestingly, there’s plenty of mist in the film, but not a drop of it is red. The film’s original title was Freakdog, a reference to Kenneth’s nickname, and a more fitting moniker.

The DVD showcases a few extras. “The Making of RED MIST” is a suitable title for the behind-the-scenes featurette, because it’s as creatively bankrupt as the rest of the film; it runs 21 minutes long, and is exactly what you would expect from something bearing that title. At least Arielle Kebbel looks really cute in it. She looks just as appealing in “Arielle Kebbel (‘Catherine Thomas’): Extended Interview,” which is, to no surprise, an extended interview with the actress. She’s not likely to win an Oscar, but at least I know she’s invested in the character and the script. It runs about nine minutes long. At four minutes, “The RED MIST Cast in Northern Ireland” rounds out the package. Kebbel compliments the country, and I wonder if it’s possible for her to have a negative thought about anything. This is a fluff piece at its finest.

In the world of “______ meets ______,” The Red Mist could easily have been titled “I Know What You Did Last Summer meets Shocker.” If only as a film it weren’t Mixture of Two Ideas meets Mediocre Filmmaking. Kebbel shows some promise, so hopefully her next film will be Arielle meets Better Movie.

--Phil Fasso

ZOMBIE DEATH HOUSE

2009-07-29T07:19:10Z

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Zombie Death House

John Saxon would have been well suited to direct an episode of Miami Vice. At least that’s the conclusion I formed after watching his sole directorial effort, Zombie Death House. Though it sounds like a low budget effort from the Italian zombie cycle, it actually bears a much stronger resemblance both in plot and visual flair to Michael Mann’s saga of Crockett and Tubbs.

The movie starts off with ubiquitous guest star of every late 70s and early 80s TV staple Dennis Cole (the name won’t ring a bell, but if you’re my age, his face will conjure memories of The Love Boat and Fantasy Island). His character, war veteran Derek Keillor, has taken a job as a chauffeur for mobster Vic Moretti, played to the hilt by Anthony Franciosa (Saxon likely cast Franciosa because the two had previously paired on Dario Argento’s Tenebre, which, though not Argento’s best work, is far superior to Zombie Death House). When Keillor dumbly starts fooling around with Moretti’s blonde bombshell of a girlfriend, the mob boss decides to frame Keillor for a murder and rig the jury to make sure he ends up in the big house. As this movie is more concerned with its cheesy “wrong man convicted” plot than monsters, a car chase that could have been drawn straight from one of Cole’s guest spots on Charlie’s Angels is totally befitting. And Saxon delivers just that.

As if this elongated setup that has nothing to do with zombies won’t upset enough fans, when Keillor arrives at the jail, he encounters some of the most insulting stereotypes ever committed to film. There’s the calculating warden; the tough talking corrections officer who belittles the prisoners with clichés; a few Latinos who look spray painted three shades of brown, wearing the requisite red bandanas; the Caribbean prisoner who’s got a thick accent, and a ganja plant scrawled onto his cell wall; and the oh-so-flamingly gay “girlfriend” of another prisoner. And then there’s Michael Pataki. People of my age will likely remember him most as Ivan Drago’s handler in Rocky IV. Just as memorable, but for quite different reasons, is his role in Zombie Death House, in which he: portrays Moretti’s jailed brother, wears a black half shirt and later a pink button up right out of Olivia Newton John’s wardrobe in Grease, falls into an accent that is sometimes Russian, sometimes Italian and occasionally his own American. The character is so offensive in its stereotyping of gay males that it far outshines the already mentioned characters. Horror movies are often littered with thin characterizations, but this film goes out of its way to hurt several different groups with those who inhabit its plot.

Ah, the plot. It’s only about a third of the way through the film that the cause for the zombies of the title comes into play. Saxon himself plays yet another stereotype, the cold scientist who uses humans as his lab rats. It seems his experiments turn people into deranged lunatics who, oddly enough considering the title, are not really zombies. Only toward the end of the film does the movie provide them with any real undead behavior (tearing and devouring the living, as well as a thousand hands jutting through bars, waiting to rip more of the living to death). But this hardly matters as the zombies are really just an excuse for a jailhouse riot, in which the prisoners overthrow the corrections officers and try to break out. Throw in the requisite hot but intelligent female scientist who’s been working under Saxon’s evil hand unknowingly, and this makes for the worst “Take Your Kids to Work Day” the warden could ever have possibly foreseen. And yes, I mean the plot actually has the warden take his kids to work, to add some extra emotional investment from the audience for the protagonists. Unfortunately, even this desperate plea for sympathy falls flat.

Throughout all this, Cole carries himself as seriously as he did on any episode of Trapper John, M.D. It’s a heroic effort, but a wasted one, as there is absolutely nothing for a horror fan to sink his teeth into here. Saxon should have removed the flimsy zombie subplot, kept this under its original title Death House, and made this a Steven Seagal-type jail escape action flick, which is obviously what it wants to be.

There are no extras on this film, unless one considers the really annoying song from the end credits, which plays over the scene selection. But hey, it really should be the Miami Vice theme.

As a director of a Miami Vice episode, I suspect John Saxon would have flourished. Alas, Zombie Death House builds itself as a horror film, and as a director of a zombie movie, Saxon is merely guilty of directing a prison riot film. Sentence passed.

--Phil Fasso

ZOLTAN: HOUND OF DRACULA

2009-07-29T07:13:21Z

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Zoltan: Hound of Dracula

Where I grew up, there were four families that owned Dobermans within eight houses. One of my formative memories from childhood was when the next door neighbor’s Doberman broke out of the fence that divided our properties. Shooting like a bullet at my mom, the dog leapt into the air, teeth at the ready. In the split second the dog had been in the air, my own German Shepherd Heidi had fired across the side lot, leapt into the air herself, and caught the Doberman by the throat. She thrashed the dog around until, bested, it rambled home whimpering. Heidi saved my mom from serious injury that day, and probably saved her life. As this story shows, dogs can be scary. They’re predators with sharp teeth designed to tear flesh, and they run much faster than we humans do. So having a vampire dog should only increase the potential for fright. Now we would have a super fast, sharp fanged undead monster out to suck blood and turn both people and dogs into walking corpses. Done right, this could be an intriguing concept. Done wrong, the result would be... well, Zoltan: Hound of Dracula, a vampire dog movie that is more boring than watching silver spray paint dry (I’ll get back to that in a bit).

The film begins in an indiscriminate country, with some unnamed army blowing up the countryside for no other reason that to further plot. Unearthing a crypt, the soldiers enter and find the walls lined with the tombs of the Dracula family. As all but one soldier remains in the crypt, an aftershock causes the wall to spit out two of the coffins it holds. The soldier opens the coffin, and pulls out a wooden stake from the corpse, an act that awakens... Zoltan! Hound of Dracula! (Yes, this is one of those movies in which the characters commit ridiculous acts merely to move the plot along. But hey, did you think you were getting into cerebral fare when you decided to read a review of a movie titled Zoltan: Hound of Dracula?) Dispatching the soldier, Zoltan then provides the audience with his history through a flashback. Read that again. The dog has a flashback. His memories tell of how his master’s house fell victim to none other than Count Dracula himself. When Zoltan tries to protect his master, the Count attacks him. He goes on to drain some blood from the dog’s master, Veidt, who conveniently occupies the other coffin that the explosion broke free. Together, master and pet travel to America to find Dracula’s last living descendent, so they can continue to exist, as they are only half-vampires and will perish without him. Please do not ask me to explain this, as the plot is so convoluted and inane, I’m convinced the screenwriter couldn’t explain it. But then, did you expect something of Shakespearean proportions from a flick titled... Zoltan: Hound of Dracula?

Even as preposterously silly as the plot is, this movie could have at least entertained had it gone one of two routes: giving a knowing wink to the audience, or speeding things up and playing on the audience’s fear of dogs. Unfortunately, it does neither. It plays the material straight, glorifying itself in ridiculous dialogue, a run of the mill horror score and constant shots of Zoltan with teeth bared and ears flopping, all of which are sure to elicit unintentional laughter from the audience. Worse, once the film brings the characters to America, it really bogs down, as Dracula’s last living descendent, Mike Drake, takes his family camping. What the film really cries for are a bunch of quick cut attack scenes that play on the speed of a demonic dog, followed by lots of throat tearing and bloodshed. In their place, it offers long scenes of Drake and his family involving themselves in the most mundane acts, in daylight no less, and Veidt’s constant commands of “Wait, Zoltan.” A slowly paced vampire dog film that takes itself seriously has zero chance of success.

And then there’s Zoltan himself. The uncredited dog gives a standard performance, but the filmmakers do everything to pull away from his effectiveness. More pitiful than the aforementioned “frightening” close ups is the vampire dog’s appearance. Somebody took it upon himself to paint the poor dog silver. Laughable, yes. But a spray painted dog is what this film has to offer (Remember again the film’s title). Not that the other performances in the film help dredge up any scares. As a Van Helsing imitator, Jose Ferrer gets outperformed by his fedora. The scariest thing about Reggie Nalder, Veidt, is his performance as Barlow in Salem’s Lot, which is in another film. And then there’s Michael Pataki. Imagine my surprise when I immediately followed my viewing of Zombie Death House with Zoltan and realized he was in both! In Zombie Death House he portrayed a flamboyantly gay prisoner. Here, he plays not only Dracula’s descendent, but the Count himself! He’s not likely to make anyone forget Lugosi or Langela.

Did you really expect anything beyond a trailer that runs too long and gives away the entire movie as an extra? But the film does qualify for the Horror Movie Relocation Program, under the inaccurate title Dracula’s Dog. I guess Veidt’s Dog wasn’t going to sell any tickets.

Zoltan might have been effective had it acknowledged its silly premise and played off it, or attacked the audience as that Doberman tried to attack my mom. Instead, it offers a spray painted Doberman as the center of a torpid plot. Unless you’re in the mood for bad offbeat cinema, avoid as you would a dog bite.

--Phil Fasso

MURDER LOVES KILLERS TOO

2009-07-21T21:41:27Z

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MURDER LOVES KILLERS TOO
dir: Drew Barnhardt
Region1 DVD (2009)
Review by Danny Price

I’m not going to lie to you, I’m in love with this movie. I managed to catch it at the A Night of Horror Film Festival in Sydney Australia way back last year and I literally fell for it. The entire audience was laughing hard enough to bring the house down, I myself was on the floor in fits of hysterics. So you can imagine my immense desire to get my hands on it again, a year past before the DVD arrived on my doorstep. It was a long wait, but worth every second in the end.

Murder Loves Killers Too begins familiarly enough, five good looking friends are en-route to an cabin in the middle of the woods for a weekend of booze, sex, drugs and rock n’ rock. They rock up unaware that they’re not alone, you see Big Stevie has picked this particular weekend to his own ends, his however is pure business, pure bloodletting, gut spewing, limb removing business. One by one Big Stevie picks off the kids, leaving Aggie to defend for her life. And that’s where I’m going to end it because t go any further and even hint at the hilarity that is to come would be a sin.

It looks and feels like an old school 80’s slasher, and I’ve got to admit that when I first saw it I figured it was going to be little more than your run of the mill slasher movie, fun sure but nothing different. I’m proud to say that I was quite wrong. Murder Loves Killers Too is quite different, it’s never too smart to be funny and never too funny to be smart, it’s a solid blend of both worlds and results in a hell of a splatterific good time.

Moving onto the DVD side of things. First of all I’d like to address something, I was shocked to learn that the film runs for a rather short 70 minutes. I can tell you right now, watching it you would be able to tell. The film draws you in and delivers such a romping good time that it’s length never factors into it. If that’s not praise then I don’t know what is.

The Making-of Murder Loves Killers Too, gives an insight into the inner workings of the film. There’s interviews with the cast and crew who talk mostly about the shoot itself as well as their experiences. It’s a welcome change from the majority of making-of out there that are more self-fellating and overly congratulatory then actually insightful and informative.

Director’s Notebook, is a cool little featurette on the director himself. Drew Barnhardt talks about the experience making his first feature, the kills, as well as the creation of the films story, messing around with the all to familiar slasher film formula. I can’t wait to see more from this guy in the future.

Creating a Killer, is a short featurette on the killer Big Stevie and Allen Andrews, the actor that brought the loveable fellow to life. If you like I loved every second Big Stevie was on screen you will dig this. He’s such a cool spin on the slasher killer concept, the average, everyday Joe that likes to kill.

Music to Murder By: Scoring Murder Loves Killers Too, is about the films fantastic score, featuring Ryan Franks (the films composer) who goes over the scores creation and it’s use. Music and sound being the most important part of any horror film worth its salt. It goes over the various, trademark horror sounds and how they created the films catchy theme.

Title Madness, is a video of Director Drew Barnhardt reading out the many, many, MANY titles they worked with before finally settling on Murder Loves Killers Too. There are quite a few gems amongst the dozens of horrendously cliché or bland ones. It’s funny, if a little long.

Rounding the DVD off is a good photo/artwork gallery which includes some of the kick ass poster art, there’s also the Theatrical Trailer and it comes with a mini poster for the movie. What the DVD is missing is an audio commentary, which would have been sweet. Overall it’s a nice neat package for a movie that’d worth buying if it’d been a bare bones release. Get this movie, get a bunch of beers, get some friends and watch this bitch on night, fun times are to be had. - Danny Price

FILM: 4.5 out of 5

DVD: 3 out of 5

RED SANDS

2009-07-09T20:18:57Z

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RED SANDS

My original review of this film was going to be way more scathing. After my first watch I knew there had to be more to this film so I decided to take a look at the DVD extras. I now know of extenuating circumstances that caused the film to subpar. A film that could have been a 5 out of 5 is now a 2 ½ out of 5. With that said on to my review.

I am a huge fan of Military Movies. I love men on a mission world war II movies like the Dirty Dozen and The Guns of the Navarone. I love Vietnam movies like Platoon and Full Metal Jacket. I’ve even enjoyed films about our recent military ventures like Jarhead and Black Hawk down. I especially love military horror movies. In fact my favorite horror film of last year was Outpost, a military horror film from the UK staring Ray “The Punisher” Stevenson. I couldn’t help but throw Red Sands on my Netflix queue. It happened to arrive during the week The United States handed Iraqi national security back to the Iraqi military. That same week Barrack Obama launched the first military campaign of his presidency in an attempt to do what the Soviets could not, take control of Afghanistan. You may have missed these big news stories because Michael Jackson died. So you should go to CNN.com and read about them. These two major events provided me with the perfect mindset to pop in Alex Turner’s Red Sands.

Red Sands is set in Afghanistan in 2002. Its about a group of Army guys sent to a stone house out in the desert to observe a road that is believed to be used by the Taliban. On their way to the house they accidentally unleash a Djinn or genie which makes them relive horrible things they did in their lives and then starts killing them off usually by pitting them against each other. If you didn’t know that was the plot of the film going in, there is a title card that explains it before the movie starts. In case you miss that title card the wiener translator for the army guys explains it again with a piece of expositionary dialogue. During my first viewing this seemed like Djinn explanation over kill. While listening to the commentary track writer Simon Barrett explains that it was studio who wanted to add the title card because they felt the audience would have been unclear as to what the villain in the film was. So the studio is half to blame. Before the wiener translator rattles off what a Djinn is, one of the army guys says, “he went to college and shit”. They don’t teach Djinn at college unless he learned about Djinn while playing D&D in college. I feel the translator character would have worked much better as an Afghan. Had the character been local it would have made more sense that he had some knowledge of local mythology. During the commentary Barrett says he saw the translator character as someone who had taken a 6 hour class in the Dari. I don’t think they would teach people about Djinn in a six hour army language class.

Director Alex Turner mentions that he is unhappy with many of the computer generated effects in the movie. I can understand why. His least favorite is one where the CG Djinn scurries off into the night and sandy wind. Yes, this shot looks bad, but it didn’t take me out of the movie. As a viewer I don’t hold low budget direct to DVD films to the same standard that I do big budget theatrical releases. The boring characters were more than enough to take me out of the movie. Every character in this film is a military movie stereotype. There is the hero who is just following orders but will always try to do the right thing. There is a wiener translator, an Italian guy from New York. (He is a nice throw back to the World War II movies where there would always be an Italian guy from Brooklyn named Brooklyn.) Then there was a southern Redneck, which is needed in every army picture, a ghetto black guy, and the soldiers are lead by a black guy who is channeling Jamie Fox’s character from Jarhead. It is totally possible that all the characters are supposed to be generic but I have seen them all before. These characters bored me. The reason why I like Outpost so much is because I hadn’t seen all the characters before. The black guy in Outpost isn’t ghetto black. He is from Africa and had been fighting wars since he was 13. There are people like that from Africa; American audiences just don’t get to see them in every movie. There was a Southern guy in Outpost who wasn’t a racist idiot. He actually was smart and had some cool lines of dialogue.

All things considered there are some cool things in this film. I enjoy all the flash back dream sequence moments where the soldiers are reliving the bad things they did. There is a friendly fire incident that the translator was involved in that has some cool gore and a cameo by Adam Gierasch, who is a great director. I like all the scenes with the Djinn who is disguising itself in the Afghan girl that shows up in a sandstorm during the night. There is one scene where she appears to be seducing the redneck character. Later in the film the redneck rapes the girl. The ambiguity of weather the girl seduced him or if he just let urge get out of control is definitely one of the story’s high points. My favorite part of the film is when the shit finally hits the fan and Djinn has turned all the soldiers against each other. Our hero must now engage in a deadly game of cat and mouse if he is going to survive. This is great because it takes place at night and the wind is whipping all this sand around. It was a great way to set the climax of the film. I was really into the film toward the end.

All and all I am glad I gave Red Sands a chance and a second chance on top of that. It is definitely worth checking out if haven’t seen a lot of military cinema. If you haven’t the characters will be exciting and fresh to you. If you have seen a lot of military films, knowing that you’ve seen all the characters already may help your enjoyment of the film. My final piece of advice is definitely watch Red Sands before you watch Outpost. - by resident BAD KID John Torrani

S DARKO: A DONNIE DARKO TALE

2009-06-07T03:59:53Z

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S. DARKO: A DONNIE DARKO TALE

SYNOPSIS: Seven years after the tragic death of her brother Donnie, Samantha Darko is still mourning him and the loss of the loving family that fell apart after he died. Her home life in shambles, 18-year-old Sam impulsively decides to join her rebellious best friend Corey on a cross-country drive from Virginia to California in the hope of becoming a professional dancer.

When their car breaks down outside tiny Conejo Springs, Sam and Corey are stranded in the hot and dusty town with little money and no connections as they await the arrival of a new water pump. Wild child Corey quickly finds a friend in Randy Holt, the town bad boy, but Samantha is restless and has no interest in socializing. The morning after the girls arrive, a meteorite destroys a local farmer's windmill, leaving a huge crater in its wake.

Plagued by weird and prophetic dreams that spill over into her waking life, Samantha searches for some kind of meaning in the people around her. But she finds only the fanatical cliches spouted by Jesus freak Trudy Potter and Pastor John Mellit of the Born Again Church, the heedless partying of Randey and his friends, and the petty suspicions of small town gossips.

Sam and Corey have a bitter falling out that ends in catastrophe. Without realizing it, they become links in an invisible chain that connects them to a missing child, a disturbed Gulf war veteran and a dangerous hole in time and space. Only a sacrifice of the highest order will return the universe to its proper time and place, and the clock is ticking.

REVIEW: 7 years after her brother's death, Samantha Dark sets out on a road trip with her friend Corey. The mission entails traveling from Virginia to CA with the hopes of becoming professional dancers. While mid transit their car breaks down in the little town of Keneo Springs and local Randy Holt comes to their aid. While they await there car repair, the 2 girls take up temporary residence at a local hotel. After which a series of events begin to unfold that make this quick stop a unforgettable moment in there lives.

To round out a bit of the collection of events and personalities we have Justin Sparrow, a Gulf War vet who just avoids a meteor collision after being visited by a spectral warning, Jeremy Frank a local nice boy who becomes transformed after purchasing the fallen meteor piece, A ufo obsessed hotel manager, A church group that suffers an arson attack burning of their establishment, A strange glowing blue feather, a lost boy and his apparition and a rather close nit paranoid town.

Our main characters Samantha and Corey present themselves as almost complete polar opposites. Samantha is quiet, cold and stand-offish who we later find had serious issues with her brother's death to the point of suicide. In her spare time she reads the book "Philosophy of Time travel" to try and understand some of the previous events of her life. Corey on the other hand, is a sharp-tongued free spirit rebel who seems to enjoy the randomness of the journey with a one-day-at a-time attitude.

Much like the film Donnie Darko, the movie is hallucinary, dreamlike and flows in the form of a puzzle. We are quickly introduced to a town with its own set of peculiarities. Quaint but overflowing with a subtle someberance and yet still on the verge of an impending event that waits to implode the entire universe they know.

Director Chris Fisher provides a number of supernatural moments that appear to work themselves into the events taking place. Often those who are called upon are seen projecting a spectral protrusion that is only best described as a visualized life force extending from one's body. After life books call this the spirits umbilical cord that connect the body and the soul together. (take note)

S. Darko delves into the arena's of time travel, quantum physics and the after life without really truly letting you know at any point in time. The film itself I guess will have several watchers running to the reviews columns shortly after to try and make sense of what they just watched. Really though the ending is the key. Without giving it away the writers are saying in bold letters that alternative universes are among us at any point in time. We lack the ability to change it once in motion but the question is always pertinent as time moves forward.

This notion has been revisited several times in science fiction films in the simplest of questions that .....what if you go back in time and step on a butterfly? (The Butterfly Effect).

S. Darko is not that kind of film but the message runs the same course of thinking. The other elements to keep in mind is that much is science fiction both used for eye candy and a premise that runs a bit off the beaten path In all the movie is a pretty solid piece of work that excels in acting performances and mystery. For most though the mystery might be a bit much to handle for feeble minds. Especially those who are closed mind to the Quantum physics arena.

Far too much is ambiguous to the point of a messed up dream or Lynchian experience to the effect that you feel disjointed through 98 percent of the movie. Though with all that said, it still is a pretty decent film. It's just I feel that many will shrug there shoulders in a state of confusion trying to grasp the rather more intellectually based subject matter thrown at them.

Additional high points go to the fantastic score that plays out moody and triumphantly grandiose. S. Darko in the end is a mind boggling exploration of alternative universes and small town affairs.

- review by Bonedigger from www.horrornews.net

LAID TO REST

2009-06-03T22:21:15Z

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Laid to Rest

A guy in a mask chasing a girl. This is how director Robert Hall describes his goal in making Laid to Rest. One can view this two ways: either as one director’s reverent take on a tried and true archetype, infused with his own original touches; or as a hackneyed play on a formula that is well overdone to begin with. I can understand why Hall had this aim in mind. As the unholy trio of masked slashers (Leatherface, Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees) are now being refashioned for a younger generation, the timing is ideal for young bucks to establish their own pantheon of monsters that they hope will last for decades to come. What Hall accomplishes with Laid to Rest is a movie that has a great visual flair, but ends up being more of the same.

After a creatively filmed montage that indicates what is to come, a girl wakes up to find herself in a coffin. Having no idea who or where she is, she flees the “deathbox” and her pursuer, Chromeskull, a name that refers to his ornate mask. On the road, Tucker, a local man, picks her up and, feeling sympathy for her, brings her home. When Chromeskull arrives and dispatches Tucker’s wife, he and Princess, as he names the amnesiac, run away and eventually add Stephen, an oddball who invokes Steve Buscemi in both look and acting style, to their group. The three try to survive a night of terror as Princess struggles to discover her identity, and how she is connected with Chromeskull.

Laid to Rest is one of the most visually arresting horror movies I’ve seen in years. DP Scott Winig lights the film brilliantly, as is evident in the scene in the barn, where light beams through the cracks between the wood, creating a play of shadows. The bluish hues are pitch perfect for a horror film, harkening back to Dean Cundey’s work on some of John Carpenter’s earlier films, and Winig uses some challenging camera angles. Adding to the visuals are the wonderful practical effects, done by Eric Porn. Leaning not too heavily on CG, Hall creates kills that are grounded in reality, which is commendable in this day and age.

If only I could commend Hall on his plot. The problem is, everything in this film has been done ad nauseam before, and done better. While Kevin Gage and Sean Whalen craft likable, believable characters that fans will likely root for, Chromeskull is the typically unstoppable killer, who gets shot several times, stabbed in the eye more than once and generally pummeled, yet the damage leaves him with no ill effect. This would be easier to swallow had Hall’s script given some explanation for it. Without one, it breaks suspension of disbelief. Chromeskull’s obsession with filming his victims is a contemporary take on Michael Powell’s excellent film Peeping Tom. But Powell’s film is a statement on psychosis and our sometimes dark obsession with the moving image; Hall’s film makes no profound statements, as Chromeskull’s camera is just a cool toy. Worst of all, once Princess overcomes her amnesia, her realization of self is far from a satisfying payoff. Perhaps Hall should have thought twice about using it, as amnesia is almost always a weak plot device in fiction.

The special features pay off nicely for fans of the film. First up is “Postmortem: The Making of Laid to Rest,” a 32 minute look behind the scenes. Hall and wife/producer/actress Bobbi Sue Luther take us through the production from inception to editing and score. Along the way, various people involved in the film chime in, including just about every actor in the film. The doc is a little too heavy on self-praise, but it gives some solid background on the project, including the benefits of filming in Maryland. “Torture Porn: The SFX of Laid to Rest,” is much shorter, running about 8 minutes, and focuses on the creation of the very explicit gore in the film. Let me note here that Laid to Rest is not a film for the squeamish. The ultra-violence will turn the stomachs of more sensitive fans, and really worked as a turnoff for me. The featurette itself, however, is a nice piece. Hall and Luther also provide a commentary that is lively and informative; the pair’s natural chemistry comes out in their discussion of the film. Some bloopers, deleted scenes and trailers round out the package.

Laid to Rest is a beautifully filmed movie, but for all its visuals, it’s nothing horror audiences haven’t seen 67,000 times before. Only the most undiscriminating slasher fans will find its plot or its killer satisfying. Hall’s aim was to create his own addition to the new pantheon of slashers, but ultimately, fans will probably find Chromeskull forgettable not long after the end credits roll.

--Phil Fasso

THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU

2009-06-03T22:16:15Z

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The Island of Dr. Moreau (1977)

The greatest power of science fiction is how it anticipates things to come. Sci-fi novels predicted such things as tanks, widescreen TVs and, most apropos to this review, genetic research long before scientists could ever glean the possibilities of their existence. One of the great forebears of sci-fi was H. G. Wells. Having read his major novels, I often wonder just how he could be so far ahead of the curve; it’s almost like he travelled forward in a time machine (oh wait, he wrote a novel about one of those too), saw all these wonderful, modern contraptions, and then jaunted back to his contemporary times to write them down. Though not his most popular or influential novel, The Island of Dr. Moreau has always been my personal favorite. Not because it’s his best effort (though it can stand shoulder to shoulder with his others), but because of American International’s 1977 film version. The movie really worked on me as a child, with its man beasts running wild in the isolated forest, ready to leap out at any second. Watching it as a man, I find it’s not very frightening, but it still has some power for entirely different reasons.

The movie opens with three men in a rowboat. Lost at sea, only two survive to land on the titular island. As the hero Braddock heads off to seek help, his crewman gets dragged off by unseen creatures, a number of which follow Braddock, who falls in a hole that’s obviously been set as a trap. He awakes to find Montgomery, a hunter who works for Dr. Moreau, a pioneer in the science of vivisection who fled into exile under the ridicule of his peers. Free of the scientific community’s restraints, Moreau has created a whole society of “manimals,” hybrid beasts that answer to their master’s Laws, or suffer in the House of Pain, their name for Moreau’s laboratory.

The film’s greatest strength is how closely its script adheres to the source material. Much of the dialogue about the Laws and the House of Pain are direct quotes from Wells, and even when the scenes and dialogue differ from the novel, they remain within the spirit of the text. The shift from vivisection to genetic research is seamless, because the results are still human/animal hybrids that become a society. At their epicenter is Moreau, an oppressive leader who has made himself into their God. Though his cause may have been noble once, he has corrupted it to give himself power over creation. In some sense, he is another variation of the archetypal mad scientist, but sharply delineated in both Wells’ novel and the film to make him stand out just a bit. In one of his more understated performances, Burt Lancaster carries the role with just a tinge of a wild gleam in his eye; repressing the wild energy that he brought to most of his roles, Lancaster plays Moreau as a man who teeters just on the edge of insanity, instead of being way over it.

The major problem with the film is that the manimals just aren’t frightening. Sure, they were scary when I was 10, and Moreau was on the late show at 1 a.m. But watching it recently, I concluded they’re just... cuddly. Though the makeup effects turn actors into convincing animal/human hybrids, the creatures do not look intimidating at all. The way they move, they don’t menace, and even when they growl, they are about as scary as a malfunctioning Teddy Ruxpin. It doesn’t help that the plot restrains their animal side until later in the film, but even when they revert to the more bestial in the film’s final act, the damage has already been done. If the manimals would have appeared more monstrous, I’m sure the movie would have scared me as much today as it did all those years ago.

The film only became frightening for me again when I stepped back and analyzed what it was saying. The theme of man tampering with nature and becoming God resonated strongly, as Moreau eventually turns on Michael York’s Braddock and attempts to turn him into a manimal. Moreau, the jealous God, wields his powers against Braddock when it becomes obvious that the young lady on the island, played by Barbara Carrera, finds Braddock more attractive because of his physical appearance, thus preferring the animal over the intellectual; later, when Braddock raises up his lifeless body before the manimals, it’s a mock crucifixion. The message is clear: Even when its intentions are noble, science can go dangerously awry when left unchecked in the hands of men who think themselves godlike. Looking through Braddock’s eyes, I found myself trapped on an island with, for all intents and purposes, a madman and a society of monsters, a scary proposition. The claustrophobic atmosphere and the stark score by Laurence Rosenthal plays nicely on themes of isolation.

In the hands of AIP, The Island of Dr. Moreau was never going to hold itself up against the greatest science fiction films of all time, and its snuggly manimals do little to help the cause. But the movie holds firm on the frightening ideas projected by H. G. Wells so many years earlier, ideas that seem ever so prevalent in a world of swine flu and genetically engineered hamburgers. And therein lies the true fright.

--Phil Fasso

ZOMBIE STRIPPERS

2009-06-03T22:09:33Z

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ZOMBIE STRIPPERS

Back in my early 20s, when I was delving into world literature at Stony Brook University, my cousin Laurie Foos turned me onto absurdist literature. Around that time, she had just published her own novel, an absurdist piece called Ex Utero that became a well-received first effort. Leaning on her expertise, I took her advice and picked up The Rhinoceros, an early 20th century play written by Ionesco. In its bizarre way, it comments on how people embrace or resist change in a world in which chaos has swept away all logic, as the residents of a French town inexplicably turn into rhinos.

About now, I’m sure you’re asking me, “It’s great and all that you read some pretentious French play that’s older than my great-grandmother, but what the Hell does that have to do with naked hotties eating people, Phil?” You can blame writer/director Jay Lee and Lee’s wife/producer Angela, who have the unmitigated gall to foist Zombie Strippers on its most likely unaware audience the premise that the film is based on The Rhinoceros. The actors and filmmakers try to further this myth in the extras, but its claims to this lineage couldn’t be more ridiculous.

I reviewed Zombie Strippers in a First Look when it previewed in New York, and all I said then still applies. It still plays as two different movies, and would have fared much better if it had dropped all the forced philosophical fare and just aimed at being a dumb yet fun shoot ‘em up. But watching it in 2009, I have one extra problem with it; after the first 100 days of President Obama, all the political satire falls terribly flat. Political in jokes only work if they’re timely, so potshots at the Bush administration and Haliburton don’t resonate at all. As for the zombies, the makeup effects fare much better than they do on many low budget undead films, but the siege scene in the film’s first act is run of the mill, as are many of the attack scenes that follow. The scenes with the dancers themselves work best, because they distinguish Zombie Strippers from every other zombie film I’ve ever seen. Most impressive (I missed this during my initial viewing), the cinematography and editing are high end, and mask the fact that the film is a low budget affair. But nice camera work and cutting cannot save a bad film. And a bad film it is.

Zombie Strippers boasts an assortment of extras, starting with a commercial for Sony Blu-Ray discs; seeing Spider Man appear on this DVD is beyond bizarre. Perhaps Marvel Comics will have him visit an undead titty bar in his fourth blockbuster. “The Champagne Room: Behind the Scenes of Zombie Strippers” runs 7 minutes, and acts as a typical making-of featurette; the cast and crew all involve themselves in happy talk that make it sound as if the movie and all parties involved are groundbreaking and brilliant. “The Designing Room: How to Glam a Zombie” runs 4 minutes and offers a brief look at the special effects makeup with effects artist Patrick Magee; surprisingly, it shows very little of Magee at work. This is a shame, because his stuff in the film is impressive.

There are also 37 minutes of deleted scenes, with optional commentary by the director and Englund. The film is about 20 minutes too long as it stands, so an extra half hour plus would’ve made for an excruciating experience. Legal Affairs wouldn’t let Lee use the name “Haliburton,” but amazingly, across the disc he manages to mention the company ad nauseam, as he does here. He also mentions the connection to Rhinoceros during the elongated strippers’ introduction, as he explains the character Sox represents Ionesco’s Logician, but I still do not buy it. I came away from the scenes with the knowledge that Robert Englund is a very intelligent, well spoken man, who understands a lot about characterization and plotting.

The final extra is the commentary, which features director Lee and stars Jenna Jameson, Robert Englund and Joey Medina. Ironically, the commentary spends much time discussing things other than Ionesco; instead it focuses largely on the nuts and bolts of production and acting technique. Englund’s intellect balances off Jameson’s lack thereof; every time she opens her mouth, she solidifies every single stereotype ever leveled at strippers and porn stars. It’s a good chat, but if Lee is going to boast about the connection to Rhinoceros all over this disc, this would have been the forum to elaborate. In failing to do so, he disappoints. But as Medina asserts, most people who love zombies and strippers could care less about commentaries.

After a second pass, I still cannot recommend Zombie Strippers. It’s good for a few laughs and has some quality gore, but it’s disjointed and runs too long. An assortment of extras do nothing to improve the film, and several claims to inspiration from Ionesco fall short. If you want to invest four hours of time in quality entertainment, read The Rhinoceros. It doesn’t sport any reanimated corpses or boobies, but it sets an absurdist standard that Lee’s zombie flick does not even close to approach.

--Phil Fasso

OMEN IV: THE AWAKENING

2009-05-18T22:07:33Z

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OMEN IV: THE AWAKENING

The other day, I walked into my apartment to a rancid odor. Guessing that a moose had not died and rapidly decomposed under my bed, I surmised that the terrible stench came from my kitchen garbage. Earlier in the week, I had cooked something, I don’t even remember what, and the cooking scraps I’d tossed out had begun to work their dark magic. Immediately, I took out the trash and lit a vanilla scented candle. As I left my kitchen, I looked at my DVD rack and instantly associated this foulness with Omen IV: The Awakening.

The first Omen movie is a classic, and the other two entries in the trilogy are classy, respectable additions to the genre. I equated these films with the meal I’d cooked earlier in the week; after all, even if I couldn’t remember what I’d prepared, I know I’m one Hell of a chef. Omen IV, however, is a putrid abortion, which leaves a stink upon the series that threatens to erase the tasteful memories of the first three films, and is best placed in the garbage, which should be removed from the house immediately thereafter.

A quick history: having recently launched its own television network in 1990, Fox Studios, the company responsible for such high end fare such as Cops and Married with Children, was searching for new programming. Forgoing any concept of fresh ideas, Fox decided to revive some of its older movies and convert them to two hour television movies (Give the studio credit; Fox was enamored with lack of creativity long before all the studios caught on with the current remake craze). The first of these was to be a new Omen flick, also to be one of the most incompetently made films I’ve ever witnessed.

A quick plot synopsis: the Omen with a girl. A girl whose acting technique is to look really bored. The plot is note for note exactly the same, but gone terribly wrong. It’s as if the Sistine Chapel were repainted in the local church by a 3 year old, and the Roman Catholic Church sponsored the painting. I could go into how atrocious everything across the board is in this film, but it’s better to use one example that sums the mess up: as a private eye passes a choir on the street, they transform into hideous demons who chant the Latin chorus from The Omen. Jerry Goldsmith should have been rolling in his grave over this, and he hadn’t even died at that point. Fox obviously didn’t give a damn about their fans, but worse, they didn’t give a damn about the Omen’s legacy either.

They didn’t give a damn enough to put any extras besides trailers on this disc. Trust me. You wouldn’t watch extras if they were there.

Long before Omen IV reaches its twist ending, you’ll have shut it off to save yourself from the stench of this misguided example of How a Horror Franchise Goes Hideously Wrong. But then, if you’re reading this review, hopefully you’ll avoid the film. After all, I wouldn’t want you to spend your money on trash.

--Phil FassoOMEN IV: THE AWAKENING

The other day, I walked into my apartment to a rancid odor. Guessing that a moose had not died and rapidly decomposed under my bed, I surmised that the terrible stench came from my kitchen garbage. Earlier in the week, I had cooked something, I don’t even remember what, and the cooking scraps I’d tossed out had begun to work their dark magic. Immediately, I took out the trash and lit a vanilla scented candle. As I left my kitchen, I looked at my DVD rack and instantly associated this foulness with Omen IV: The Awakening.

The first Omen movie is a classic, and the other two entries in the trilogy are classy, respectable additions to the genre. I equated these films with the meal I’d cooked earlier in the week; after all, even if I couldn’t remember what I’d prepared, I know I’m one Hell of a chef. Omen IV, however, is a putrid abortion, which leaves a stink upon the series that threatens to erase the tasteful memories of the first three films, and is best placed in the garbage, which should be removed from the house immediately thereafter.

A quick history: having recently launched its own television network in 1990, Fox Studios, the company responsible for such high end fare such as Cops and Married with Children, was searching for new programming. Forgoing any concept of fresh ideas, Fox decided to revive some of its older movies and convert them to two hour television movies (Give the studio credit; Fox was enamored with lack of creativity long before all the studios caught on with the current remake craze). The first of these was to be a new Omen flick, also to be one of the most incompetently made films I’ve ever witnessed.

A quick plot synopsis: the Omen with a girl. A girl whose acting technique is to look really bored. The plot is note for note exactly the same, but gone terribly wrong. It’s as if the Sistine Chapel were repainted in the local church by a 3 year old, and the Roman Catholic Church sponsored the painting. I could go into how atrocious everything across the board is in this film, but it’s better to use one example that sums the mess up: as a private eye passes a choir on the street, they transform into hideous demons who chant the Latin chorus from The Omen. Jerry Goldsmith should have been rolling in his grave over this, and he hadn’t even died at that point. Fox obviously didn’t give a damn about their fans, but worse, they didn’t give a damn about the Omen’s legacy either.

They didn’t give a damn enough to put any extras besides trailers on this disc. Trust me. You wouldn’t watch extras if they were there.

Long before Omen IV reaches its twist ending, you’ll have shut it off to save yourself from the stench of this misguided example of How a Horror Franchise Goes Hideously Wrong. But then, if you’re reading this review, hopefully you’ll avoid the film. After all, I wouldn’t want you to spend your money on trash.

--Phil Fasso

(Note: We the editors do want you to spend your money on this trash! Or at least the OMEN collections. Linked below!)

OMEN 3: THE FINAL CONFLICT

2009-05-18T21:59:33Z

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OMEN 3: THE FINAL CONFLICT

Far too often, horror franchises follow a tired formula, where the monster returns in sequel after sequel simply to slay the next group of anonymous teens. Even though these franchises progress in number, the Jasons and Freddys of the world dish up absolutely no character development at all; each movie in the series serves as just another reason to find new ways to kill. Here is where The Omen trilogy is a giant cut above the rest. Instead of offering up a static character, the franchise follows the arc of Damien Thorn, from his childhood through his adolescence, and concludes with his adulthood as his devilish promise comes to full bloom like an evil rose. The Final Conflict, the completion of the trilogy, succeeds in paying off for both the character and the franchise.

The film begins with an expertly edited scene that follows the seven daggers of Megiddo, as workers excavate them from the ruins of the Thorn Museum in Chicago, which exploded at the end of Damien: Omen II. The knives eventually travel to auction, where a secret order of priests, led by Father DeCarlo, buys them in order to end Damien Thorn. The blades are a nice touch, as they connect this film not only to its immediate predecessor, but to the first film, where mankind’s trouble began. And mankind’s trouble is in full swing, as the next scene shows. The world’s hunger problem has increased to devastating levels, and Thorn Industries is promoting itself as the savior. Enter Damien Thorn himself, at 33 a powerful man with plenty of prestige and influence not only economically, but politically. Damien soon takes over the position of American Ambassador to the Court of St. James (another nice nod to the first film, it is the position that his father Robert held), as he prepares to take control of the entire world and bring about the apocalypse.

The film establishes several different angles, and follows through well on each of them. As Damien rises, the priests try to put an end to him at various points throughout the film. But Damien always has the upper hand, and the tone throughout the film suggests that, as in the previous films in the series, evil will rule at the end of the day. Along the way, Damien also starts a romance with a British reporter (a skewed mirror to the beautiful romance of Robert and Katherine Thorn that anchored the first film), whose teenage son Damien appears to be grooming as his successor. The movie suggests another child may be in play here, as a comet is on the move, echoing the celestial event that signaled the birth of Damien. Could this be the second coming of the Christ? Damien sees it that way, and in a move reminiscent of King Herod’s biblical murder of the innocents, sends his disciples on a murder spree of all the newborns in England. With these forces in play, the film concludes with a definitive victory that caps off the trilogy.

That ending is the most disappointing point of an otherwise solid film. Instead of following through on the notion that the daggers of Megiddo are the only way to destroy Damien—a notion, by the way, carried out in all three films—The Final Conflict instead induces a deus ex machina that removes all the power from Damien’s adversaries and thrusts it into the hands of the New Christ. The deus ex machina is generally regarded in literature as a weak way to end a story; its place in this movie serves a perfect example of why. God’s arrival to tidy things up is frustrating, and always led me to ask, why didn’t He just do this when Damien was 5? This ending may be part of the explanation for why The Final Conflict was the least financially successful of the Omen trilogy, especially in light of how it’s actually a better film than Damien: Omen II.

I wouldn’t suggest that you let the ending stop you from seeing the film, though, as the conclusion is the only real flaw in an otherwise solid outing. As with the first two entries, The Final Conflict has captivating direction, editing and cinematography, and another powerful score by Jerry Goldsmith (the way Goldsmith weaves his themes from the first film into the new material is flawless; watching the Omens again reminds me of just how sad it is that this master composer is no longer with us, and with film). All of these give the film a consistency with the rest of the franchise, and offer a polish and class not generally associated with the horror genre. Also consistent are the creative death scenes, including a nasty “accident” in a news studio, and two deaths on a bridge during a fox hunt. Director Graham Baker puts the set pieces to good use, as he does the rest of the script, which sets a tone that is steadily horrifying and foreboding; it never lets the audience forget that if Damien succeeds, our world as we know it is over.

The most compelling element of the film is Sam Neill’s performance as Damien. The film would ride or sink on his acting, and he imbues the Antichrist with a dark charisma that is both frightening and seductive, exactly the way the Bible portrays Satan. Witness the scene where he holds discussion with a life sized statue of the crucified Jesus and see his mastery of the role. For those who know him solely as the grumpy paleontologist in the Jurassic Park films or the unhinged reporter in John Carpenter’s In the Mouth of Madness, you’ll be surprised at just how good he is at playing the villain. In lesser hands, the adult Damien might not have been effective; in Neill’s hands, the character pitch perfect.

As with Damien: Omen II, the disc boasts few extras. There are trailers for this and other Fox flicks, but the only real special feature of note is the commentary by director Baker. He distills some decent information about casting, plotting and shooting the film, but there are far too many dead spots; whole scenes go by without Graham uttering a single word. He probably would have fared better with a moderator, as Harvey Bernhard did on his Omen II track; or if he was as charismatic and lively as Richard Donner is on both of the commentary tracks for The Omen. Baker’s silence is so prominent that fans can skip the track without really losing much. Any fan who wishes to seek out information about The Final Conflict is almost better off watching The Omen Legacy, a documentary which chronicles the Omen series, than spending two hours for what amounts to maybe 20 minutes of commentary.

With The Final Conflict, The Omen trilogy came to a proper end, a solid effort that is sullied only by an uncharacteristically weak final few minutes. Ten years later, Fox Studios would return to The Omen with an abomination of a fourth effort for television that does not even include Damien (just one of its many failures; and they wonder why it flopped?), and then a remake of the first film that seemed made only to capitalize on the release date of June 6, 2006. But for hardcore Omen fans, the series ended powerfully with the original trilogy. Looking back on these three films recently, I remember exactly why I fell so in love with them at an early age, and why The Omen is still my favorite horror flick: they’re superbly made movies that simultaneously manage to satisfy genre fans as they rise above the genre in following the character arc of a demonic child right through his adulthood. Any horror fan with a true appreciation of great movies should enjoy all three.

--Phil Fasso

OMEN 2 (DAMIEN: THE OMEN II)

2009-05-04T20:43:36Z

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Damien: Omen II

When I initially got a DVD player back in 2000, the first flick I wanted to buy on disc was The Omen, by far my favorite horror film, and in my opinion the best horror film ever made. To my dismay, I discovered that The Omen had not yet been released. Fortunately, a few months later, I had in my hands not just the first film, but a box sex that included the entire original trilogy! (We won’t talk about Omen IV, even if that atrocity was also in the set.) So on the first night the set was released in stores, I sat down and watched all three films. That night, I had the same estimation of the middle film, Damien: Omen II, that I’d had for years since first seeing it, and I still have. The Omen is not only a great horror flick, but a great movie. Whereas the second Omen flick is a good horror film that comes nowhere close to reaching the greatness of the first.

Omen II starts off promisingly enough. Bugenhagen, the archaeologist who had first warned Robert Thorn of the evils of his young son Damien, brings another archaeologist underground in Israel to see paintings of the face of Satan on a wall. Both men quickly perish as sand fills in and the cave collapses. Flash forward several years to a 13-year-old Damien and his adopted family. Damien’s uncle, Richard Thorn, and his second wife have adopted the boy, who is off to military school with his cousin Mark. When Richard’s Aunt Marion tells him to separate the boys and he refuses, the trouble begins. A series of violent mishaps lead Richard to question whether brother Robert really was insane when he tried to kill Damien, and if the boy might just be the devil on earth. As he tries to uncover the truth, Damien learns of his powers from a military commander, and starts to flex his demonic muscle. Will he win out over the forces that try to stop him from taking over the world, or will those adversaries crush him before he can bloom into his full demonic powers?

On The Omen Legacy documentary, which covers the whole franchise, producer Harvey Bernhard agrees with my assessment of the sequel: good horror sequel, but not a great film, by horror standards or by more mainstream. The problem, Bernhard suggests, is that the plot has no meat, and I agree. The first Omen was a tight drama about the unwinding of a family. Its narrow focus made the end of the world up close and personal. Damien: Omen II, by contrast, tries to expand Damien’s influence, spreading the focus to cover the military school, Richard’s attempts to discover the truth, and the power of Thorn Industries. Yet the film satisfies less. It also functions on another level, as a coming-of-age story for the Antichrist, as he becomes aware of his powers, and transforms from confused kid to knowingly evil kid by the film’s end. But it does so in uncompelling fashion; simply put, Damien was cooler at 5 than he is at 13. But that shouldn’t fall on actor Jonathan Scott-Taylor’s shoulders. He does his best to carry the unholy burden of both puberty and being the Antichrist. I blame the script by Stanley Mann and Mike Hodges, the latter who also acted as director before being unceremoniously fired and replaced by Don Taylor. Their writing can’t hold a candle to the far superior script of David Seltzer’s original Omen.

That last paragraph might make it sound as if the flick is a disaster, but it’s not. It’s a solid horror flick. So what works? The establishing shot of Damien frames him behind a fire, as if he’s walking through the flames of Hell. The movie’s high spots are the violent “accidents” that, while not quite on the level of the first film, are very effective: a reporter meets her fate at the beak of a raven, and the wheels of a large truck; a Thorn Industries employee who calls to question Damien’s power ends violently during a hockey game on an iced over pond; another associate of Richard’s discovers why people should not walk on train tracks; and Mesach Taylor of Designing Women and Mannequin fame should have taken the stairs instead of the elevator. Tying all these incidents are Damien and Richard, the latter played by Academy Award winner William Holden. As Holden’s biographer Bob Thomas related it in his biography Golden Boy, the actor was very upset with turning down the role that went to fellow Oscar winner Gregory Peck in the first film, and was therefore anxious when Fox offered to him the next Omen film. As Peck did in the original, Holden adds a distinct touch of class and superior acting to a horror flick. His presence raises the level of the film. Lee Grant, another Oscar winner, holds her own as Richard’s wife. Taken together, Peck, Holden and Grant might give the Omen franchise the most acclaimed set of actors ever to appear in a horror series. And of course, the use of a new score from Jerry Goldsmith is stellar and downright ominous, and ties this film to the first.

Less than stellar are the extras. Having put all their gusto into the release of the first film, Fox only awarded two special features to the sequel. Accompanied by the disc’s producer, Harvey Bernhard provides a commentary. He’s honest about his appraisal of the film, describing how Damien should have been older in the film. He’s also harsh in his judgment of Hodges, the film’s first director, describing how he dawdled all day in setting up one scene. He’s much more complimentary to Don Taylor, a friend of Holden’s who replaced Hodges and brought the film in on time and budget. Bernhard’s comments reflect what I’ve always thought about the sequel: it’s a good horror film, but it’s not on par with the original, and could have been so much better. A number of trailers for other Fox films round out the disc. I suppose I wanted something more in depth, perhaps a documentary or some interviews, but The Omen Legacy provided much of what this disc lacks.

If I watch Damien: Omen II on its own terms, it satisfies. It’s got an ominous tone that’s hammered home by its superior score, and the high spot kills are equally creative and gruesome. Unfortunately it’s hard not to compare it to its predecessor, and to what is yet to come for Damien Thorn in the better Final Conflict. But I’m happy to have it as a continuation of little Damien on his path to demonic adulthood, and as a part of a fine franchise and box set.

--Phil Fasso

OMEN LEGACY, THE

2009-05-04T20:30:36Z

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The Omen Legacy

I’ve seen a number of documentaries over the years that have covered one particular horror franchise or another. Depending on how these docs are assembled, they’re hit or miss. Still, I was more than a little jazzed when, a number of years ago, on Halloween night no less, American Movie Classics ran The Omen Legacy, an in-depth look at the series started by my favorite horror movie, The Omen. The results are impressive, and should please all Omen fans with background stories and some interesting insights on not only the films, but faith, God and the devil.

The documentary starts off with a brief overview of the series, and makes note of the “Omen curse.” It then heads into a discussion of religious movies, and how they took a dark turn with Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist. This rolls into how an idea from Rev. Bob Munger about the birth of the Antichrist on Earth sent producer Harvey Bernhard on a quest that would lead to writer David Seltzer and director Richard Donner’s brilliant take on the notion. The doc then spends the next 47 minutes, nearly half its running time, discussing the inception, production, release and effect of The Omen, and excels in doing so. It discusses everything from why the name of the film changed from The Birthmark, and how the film’s robust box office returns allowed for Star Wars to be made.

The doc then turns its eye to Damien: Omen II. The sequel was a troubled production from the start, as Legacy chronicles. Quarrels between the studio and Bernhard and fellow producer Mace Neufeld, piled on by a change in director, led to a film that never had a chance to equal the original. Bernhard basically says that the movie is a highlight reel of five or six horrific events, a story without any meat. I couldn’t agree more.

Following chronologically, Legacy then picks up on The Final Conflict, the completion of the original trilogy. According to Bernhard, we Omen fans can thank actor James Mason for fronting the air fare for Sam Neill to do his screen test. The introduction of a love interest for Damien led to real romance, as actress Lisa Harrow and Neill moved in with one another during the film’s production. The clips from the film display just how sinister Damien has become in his 30’s, and just how great a job Neill does as the adult Antichrist, now in full embrace of his powers. His demise at the film’s end made Christian groups happy everywhere, but did little for fans, as it was the least successfully of the trilogy, financially speaking. A shame, since it’s a better film than Omen II.

Regrettably, Legacy next focuses on Omen IV: The Awakening. A made-for-TV abomination that has all the tell tale signs of being made-for-TV (dull camera work, stiff acting, a silly plot, lowbrow and ineffective special effects). For those who decry the current state of horror remakes that are far inferior to the originals, know that Fox was well head of the curve back in 1990. A film that is more sequel than strict remake, Omen IV is an abortion best avoided by fans of anything, especially The Omen. I applaud Legacy for offering a complete view of the franchise, but I advise fans to skip this section of the doc, which only demonstrates how appallingly bad the film is.

Finally, Legacy looks very briefly at The Omen television series, which never made it beyond its pilot. Donner says he hated it, and refuses to talk about it any further. And so neither will I. Fortunately, Legacy also includes a scene from the Damien episode from the first season of South Park as part of the franchise’s cultural legacy. The doc leaves off with the suggestion that the Omen films are so popular because they base themselves in the eternal struggle of good vs. evil.

The Omen Legacy does several things right, the first of which is installing Jack Palance as the narrator. His richly sinister voice suits the material perfectly, and writers Naomi Pfefferman and Brent Zachey give him a solid script with which to work. It also includes plenty of well-paced and well-chosen clips from the films themselves, and makes powerful use of Jerry Goldsmith’s brilliant scores. It includes interviews with many of the parties involved in all four films, such as: Donner, Seltzer, and Bernhard; actors Martin Benson, David Warner, Lee Grant, Lance Henriksen and many others; producer Neufeld, and former head of Fox studios Alan Ladd, Jr.; as well as a minister, a professor of theology and a member of the Church of Satan. The stories these people share, coupled with Palance’s commentary, provide a rounded background for the series that any die hard Omen fan will love.

Director Zachey also does a nice job of not repeating much of the information from “666: The Omen Revealed,” the excellent 46 minute doc that Fox included with their previous DVD releases of the first Omen movie. Rarely do those interviewed for both docs retread information. Instead, Legacy expands on “Omen Revealed,” discussing different aspects from the same topics. For instance, whereas Donner told a story about getting the baboons to act angry in the zoo scene, here Neufeld relates the story of how actress Lee Remick couldn’t drive a stick shift. Zachey must have had an easier time covering the other two films in the trilogy, and the dreaded fourth installment, as their stories were previously undocumented.

I have very few complaints about The Omen Legacy. My biggest quibble is the lack of interviews with the people who played Damien. Harvey Stephens and Jonathan Scott-Taylor, the first two to essay the role of the Antichrist, left acting quickly after their portrayals, and perhaps Sam Neill was too big an actor to take part. Most sorely missed is Gregory Peck, the Academy Award winner who portrayed Robert Thorn. Peck died two years after Legacy was put out. I’ve seen Peck do plenty of interviews, but never once have I heard him comment on his role in The Omen. But given the breadth of people interviewed, and the depth of stories they share, this is a minor quibble.

The Omen Legacy is available as a stand-alone disc from Image Entertainment, and as an extra on the two-disc re-release of The Omen from Fox. But if you buy the latter, you’ll miss out on one extra that is well worth seeing: “Power and The Devil: The Making of Damien: Omen II.” The seven minute piece is mostly fluff about the sequel, but it includes snippets of interviews with Academy Award winner William Holden, the only comments I’ve ever seen him make on the film, or his personal art collection for that matter. Scott-Taylor and Bernhard also comment briefly on the film and Damien himself. Is “Power and the Devil” a necessity? To the Omen completist, absolutely. And let’s face it: who but an Omen completist would fervently seek out Legacy?

The Omen Legacy is an outstanding documentary, a superb look at a top of the line horror franchise. As the series suggests, and the doc reflects, the world is constantly involved in a test of strength between good and evil. For fans of little Damien, who would grow from birth into the ultimate evil, The Omen Legacy is as good as it could ever get.

--Phil Fasso

EFFECTS

2009-03-27T19:22:41Z

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Effects

The term “independent film” has changed drastically over the years. It once referred to a small group of people coming together to make a film on almost no budget, often just for the passion of filmmaking; today, Hollywood has twisted it into a farce, to the point where anything made for 15 million dollars seems to qualify. Major studios have whole divisions designed for this type of “independent film production,” which is independent in name only. Back in the 1970s, when the term held its much more meager meaning, a number of filmmakers were building an industry in Pittsburgh that would produce some laudable works. The most influential of these was George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead. In Romero’s shadow, another film made by a small group of Romero’s collaborators was about to appear. Though it cannot hope to compete with the grandeur of Dawn, Effects is an interesting puzzle of a film that’s worth a look for Romero fans.

After its title appears in white on a stark, black background, the movie begins with a number of quick shots of various pieces of equipment in a film studio. Following a few close ups of technicians’ faces, the camera picks up a monitor that gives information about a movie that’s presumably being edited (Pay close attention to this screen. It’s a vital clue to what’s transpiring in Effects). Cut to a long range shot of a small house set against what appears to be in the middle of a million trees. Inside, a woman with a very attractive body is showering. A man who appears to be her husband pops into the bathroom. As she peers into the mirror, someone yells, “Cut!” The camera pulls back to show a small crew recording the event. This was no real shower at all; instead, it’s a staged event for a film. The director, Lacey, pulls back the boom mike that records the sound, and discusses the shot with Dom, the director of photography.

All of this information is important. Dom has been hired to do camerawork and special effects for a movie they’re filming in the isolated wilds outside of Pittsburgh. He’s brought his camera and his work ethic, and he thinks it’s that simple. But as the movie progresses, Dom, and in turn the audience, finds out that things are nowhere near simple. In fact, nothing in this movie is what it initially seems. For instance: In one early scene, Dom gets into a fight with a jerk wearing an umbrella hat at a bar. Later, the jerk turns out to be a friend of Lacey’s, and part of the production. A while after the audience discovers this, Dom does. In another scene, when Lacey shows Dom and two other members of the production what appears to be a snuff film, he claims he got it from another director. As the three men sit and watch in awe and revulsion what could or could not be a real killing, Lacey then claims he filmed it himself. Several questions arise: Is Lacey’s first claim the truth, his second, or neither? Is there actually a death taking place on film? What is real here and what is illusion?

Based on William Mooney’s novel Snuff, Effects sports an intriguing concept. Nearly 20 years before Scream, it plays on the audience’s abilities to draw the line between verisimilitude and verity, forcing those who watch to question just how far that line pushes in either direction. As director Dusty Nelson describes it brilliantly in the commentary, “It’s like peeling back the layers of an onion.”

Unfortunately, the tedious pacing in several parts of it detract from what could have been a great movie. It’s a long time before our protagonist Dom realizes he’s in any real peril, and as soon as that happens, it seems like the film’s over in a flash. Had Nelson, also the screenwriter, devoted a little less time to the setup and more to the payoff, I would have enjoyed it much more.

Still, it’s a likeable film, mostly due to the portrayal of Dom by Day of the Dead’s Captain Rhodes himself, Joe Pilato. Those expecting to find him chewing scenery until his jaw falls off will be surprised, however. Pilato’s performance in Effects is much more nuanced. This role requires a much quieter, “normal guy” performance, and Pilato delivers. When the normal guy realizes he’s in conflict with some very evil men, Pilato’s Dom acts realistically. The rest of the actors come off just as they should, as normal people, with two exceptions: Tom Savini as Nicky, and John Harrison as Lacey. Savini goes about trying to steal every scene he’s in, especially when he’s wearing the umbrella hat. He’s a little too extroverted, but a lively contrast to the rest of the cast. Harrison’s performance is restrained to the point where I often wondered if he had himself confused with a Romero zombie. A reptilian, coldblooded character, Lacey is stone faced and callous, a detached sociopath whose response to everything is no response at all. I would have preferred a more robust performance in a lead role, but from what Harrison says in the documentary, Nelson actually told him to hold himself back. A poor choice.

Perhaps the greatest joy for Romero fans will be all the shots of the desolate countryside. It was very easy for me to imagine that, one or two farms over, scores of beer swilling rednecks were firing on zombies, and that Savini’s character would trade in his umbrella hat for a moustache comb.

Effects offers a nice set of extras, both in quantity and quality. First up is After Effects: Memories of Pittsburgh Filmmaking. Nelson, Pilato, Harrison, and sound guy/editor Pat Buba sit down with Romero at poolside for an hour long discussion of the film and the Pittsburgh film scene in the 1970s. Spruced in are comments from Savini and the three other lead actors from the cast, as well as others. A laidback affair, After Effects is at its best when Nelson and company talk about how much it meant to them to follow in Romero’s path, and just get a movie made. Clearly, Effects was a labor of love for Nelson, Harrison and Buba. I can forgive them the film’s faults knowing the passion that went into its making.

The other major feature is the audio commentary. The director sits down with Harrison and Buba for what is the most technical audio chat I’ve ever heard. The passion they displayed in the documentary is evident, but I’m not a film student, so their discussion of such matters as filming on end stock and their juggling lights for scenes did little for me. If you’re in film school, this commentary is best suited for you. All others will do themselves no harm by skipping it.

Two short films also accompany the feature. Harrison’s “Ubu” is a wild, experimental film that draws heavily on German expressionism. It’s too far out there for me to enjoy. Nelson’s “Beastie” isn’t what it’s title implies. It was only about ¾ of the way through it that I realized the other shoe was not going to drop, and that “Beastie” is not a horror story at all, but a glimpse into the human heart. It’s a cute little piece. A photo gallery offers little excitement, except for an apparently abandoned advertisement in which a director’s chair sports an alternate title for the film, “The Manipulator.” Given the subject of the film it’s actually a much stronger title than Effects.

In the late 1970s, three men who ran a company that produced television commercials and documentaries decided to make a film. Effects was their final product. As a narrative piece, it’s a decent work that could have done more with a great premise. More importantly, Effects is an artifact from an era long gone, when three men who ran a commercial company could make a movie that was truly independent.

--Phil Fasso

JOHN CARPENTER'S VAMPIRES

2009-03-27T19:19:22Z

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Vampires

In 1998, Columbia Pictures released John Carpenter’s Vampires, an adaptation of John Steakley’s novel Vampire$, which, to date, is the second to last feature film Carpenter ever directed. Having felt the financial and creative failures of the recent Escape from L.A. and Village of the Damned, the director nonetheless made a film in Vampires that is classic Carpenter in just about every way.

The movie’s protagonist is Jack Crow, a vampire slayer. Resting at the Sun God Hotel after a long day of routing out bloodsuckers, Crow’s drunken team encounters master vampire Jan Valek, who obliterates them in an orgy of blood. Crow escapes Valek, shaken that the vampire knows his name. Together with Montoya, the only other surviving member of the team, and Katrina the hooker, one of Valek’s victims, Crow and Father Guiteau must destroy the master before he can turn the tide in the favor of the undead.

From the opening seconds, Vampires is classic Carpenter. As the sun rises, shots of wide, sweeping vistas of the New Mexican desert pour onto the screen; accompanying them, the foreboding notes of a guitar. Carpenter is the master of 2:35 to 1 widescreen. He understands how to fill every inch of the frame as nobody has since the directors of the sword and sandal epics of long ago. Some of his shot compositions are spectacular, especially in the scene where Valek levitates against the ceiling before he descends to give Katrina the singularly most standout vampire bite ever. Carpenter’s also expert in creating memorable scores, and punctuating scenes with them. Throughout Vampires, Carpenter proves that he hasn’t lost his visual or musical touch.

The camera finally hones in on Jack Crow. The leader of a team of vampire slayers sanctioned by the Vatican, Crow readies his men to clear out a nest of bloodsuckers. These characters are men’s men, cut from the very archetypes of Carpenter’s hero, Howard Hawks, as so many of Carpenter’s characters are. The film even sports a scene that’s sort of a reverse Rio Bravo, in which the heroes work on breaking into a jail where the vampires have holed up. Vampires continues the delineation of Hawks’ themes in Carpenter’s works, and trumps his much earlier Assault on Precinct 13 in that it’s a Western that takes place in the West.

Perhaps the only great element missing from Carpenter’s classic era is Kurt Russell. As I watched Jack Crow throughout the film, I kept thinking Carpenter intended for Russell to play him. The character’s swagger would’ve suited Kurt’s acting skills well, and certainly after the weak Escape from L.A., fans of the actor/director partnership would’ve flooded theatres to see the pairing again. Fortunately, James Woods fills Crow’s boots perfectly. Woods portrays him as an angry man who lost his family to vampires, and has sacrificed any desire for happiness in exchange for a much more satisfying revenge. Spouting off hilarious strings of profanity, Woods throws himself into the character. Woods is a master at improvising lines, as Carpenter mentions in his commentary. I can guarantee that he altered much of his brilliant dialogue from the way screenwriter Don Jakoby (and Carpenter himself, who did a rewrite) had it on the page.

Jakoby may not be responsible for some of Crow’s dialogue, but he is for taking a poorly written novel and turning it into a strong script. Steakley’s novel is absurd trash. Jakoby and Carpenter wisely tossed out most of it, retaining a few lines of dialogue, a few key scenes, the main character and that set piece in the jail. Carpenter takes a silly novel and transforms it into a textbook action film.

And make no mistake, Vampires is an action film. Yes, it’s loaded with vampires, but there’s not much of a sense of dread (Well, unless you consider Daniel Baldwin’s performance as Montoya). The film is much more concerned with things blowing up than things that go bump in the night. Though Thomas Ian Griffith does a creepy turn as Valek. His frosty breath and pale visage, complete with long fangs, sell the monster well. He does an admirable job as an adversary for the unhinged Crow, though Woods still steals the movie.

The only extra of note is the audio commentary that Carpenter provides. It’s a lazy affair, with many quiet spots, but still entertaining, as the director’s commentaries always are. Columbia would have improved it considerably by teaming him with Woods, whose unique perspective I always welcome. Left to his own devices, Carpenter comments on working with Woods, the film’s music, and how he doesn’t quite understand the exposition about the Berziers cross and reverse exorcism (Yes, the director of the film doesn’t understand a key portion of the script. Now that’s frightening).

A trailer is the only other extra. Whoever edited it did a brilliant job, mixing scenes with Crow’s dialogue and Marilyn Manson’s “The Beautiful People.” One side of the disc is widescreen (don’t you dare watch the other side!) and the other is fullscreen (I warned you!) . The box also claims there’s a stills gallery, but there isn’t. I gather this was a misprint for something Columbia had planned. It’s not a big loss.

Vampires was a return to form for John Carpenter, combining all the elements of his glory days. His next film, Ghosts of Mars, would take his career full circle, with an interstellar take on Assault on Precinct 13. Neither of these films would garner the accolades or financial success of his earlier films. But if you’re a fan of classic Carpenter, as so many of we horror fans are, Vampires belongs in your collection.

--Phil Fasso

HOWARD THE DUCK

2009-03-27T19:16:20Z

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Howard the Duck

Without risk, life is not worth living. So I’m risking any and all credibility I’ve built as a reviewer with the following statement: Howard the Duck is a brilliant movie.

There. I said it. And I’m proud. The truth is, Howard’s always been one of my favorite movies. Perhaps because in my youth, I felt as alienated as a duck from outer space who lands in Cleveland. Perhaps because to this day I have a crush on Lea Thompson. Perhaps because the film was everything I could’ve asked for as a kid, an action packed romantic comedy with Dark Overlords of the Universe thrown into the mix. Whatever the reason, I quickly found out when I was 13 years old that nobody, and I mean NOBODY, agreed with me. I asked myself: How could anybody not love a movie about a duck who falls from space, lands in Cleveland, ends up in love with a hot human female, and fights an intergalactic alien with the world at stake? As years went by, people would laugh at my mere mention of the film, let alone when I offered to watch it with them. I moved on from my VHS copy my best friend Fasano made off of HBO, to a bootleg DVD that I like to believe was cut off a tape of the same HBO performance. As time moved on and it seemed that everything in the world but Howard the Duck would eventually be released on legitimate DVD, eventually I gave up hope.

Well, not only is Howard the Duck out on DVD now, but it’s got a bona fide special edition, complete with two new featurettes on which people involved with the film agreed to appear, as well as three vintage featurettes and two teaser trailers. I rejoice! And yet, why do I feel I’m the only person other than Lea Thompson who bought this disc?

Okay, first off let me apologize. The first three paragraphs were an exercise in slavish geekboy fandom, and not a review proper. But sometimes I’ve got to set the stage before I get to the crux of things. The crux of things is that, at 36, I realize that Howard the Duck is not a good movie. But I love it as much now as I did at 13, and so I’ll use this review to defend it, and hopefully sway you to join my cult of one.

Before I go into praise of this film, let me address what’s wrong with it. Howard the Duck’s premise is a hard sell; while a talking duck is usually kiddie fare, the Howard of the Marvel Comics, on which the movie is based, is a cigar chomping wiseass with a sarcastic sense of humor. The movie strives to make him accessible to children, and simultaneously struggles to give him an edge. In doing so, it fails on both ends. The script searches in vain for an identity; is this an action movie, a comedy, a punk music retrospective, a perverse interspecies romance? Trying to satisfy all these masters, it shifts continuously. This causes a tonal nightmare for the audience, as the script never achieves any kind of balance. The answer to every question, the dialogue assures is, is a lame duck joke. And oh, dear God, are there a multitude of lame duck jokes.

And then there are the effects. Sure, the duck suit works, in its own, goofy way. But what big budget summer flick leaves in a scene where the audience can see a wire pulling a character through a diner window? The movie is fraught with gaffes such as this, the type that even a Troma film would clean up (okay, maybe not. But Troma films tend to cost closer to 35 thousand dollars, than 35 MILLION). With such a lack of attention to detail and things such as decent visual effects and a balanced plot with a coherent vision, it’s easy for me to see why people laugh at me about Howard.

It’s also hard to believe that this film was such a slipshod disaster when one considers the talent behind it. Writer/director Willard Huyck and his writing partner/wife Gloria Katz were responsible for writing the well-loved American Graffiti. John Barry had composed the James Bond soundtracks. Master puppeteer Phil Tippett and soundman Ben Burtt, both veterans of the first Star Wars trilogy, had won Oscars. And let’s not forget that the man who originally envisioned Howard as a feature film was Mr. Star Wars himself, George Lucas. Under the control of these artists, Howard should have been on parallel with Indiana Jones. Instead, the film cost 35 million dollars to make, and only made back 15 million. In today’s inflated world, that sounds like chump change; in 1986, it qualified Howard as one of cinema history’s biggest bombs.

This is starting to sound like a really negative review. Trust me, it’s not. Still with me? Good. Now let me tell you what I love Howard the Duck. Very few movies try to offer the audience an action movie, a comedy, a punk music retrospective, and a perverse interspecies romance all under one roof. I legitimately dig them all. The ultra light flight scene still gets my blood going. I can let the duck jokes slide, and some of the other jokes however corny, still make me laugh. The songs are trashy, but punk’s supposed to be, and they’re all in good fun (and yes, I own the soundtrack). As for the romance, Lea Thompson is beautiful, and she does a better job of flirting with a duck than anybody should have a right to. Say what you want about the movie, but her scenes with Howard are heartfelt.

More so than any of this, I still love Howard the Duck because it’s silly fun. In the middle of what was a very rough childhood for me, I adored Howard for being as out of the ordinary as I felt, and yet finding a way to make his way in a world he never made. And he ended up with the hot girl to boot. So maybe beyond the escapism, in an odd way Howard gave me hope.

And a few weeks ago, Universal Studios delivered on the hope I’d forsaken. On its release day, I drove to six different DVD retailers before I found a copy at my local Blockbuster Video. Universal kissed me on the cheek not just once, but a second time with the extras. The first, “A Look Back at Howard the Duck,” runs almost a half hour. Considering the making of the film was anything but mundane, I’m surprised the featurette has such a mundane title. Hyuck, Katz and Lea Thompson discuss the making of the film, with contributions from Jeffrey Jones and Howard himself, Ed Gale. The impression “Look Back” left on me was just how difficult a film Howard the Duck was to make. With special effects that would be considered primitive by today’s standards, constantly malfunctioning duck suits, and a release date that left no margin for error, it’s a miracle that Howard is as good as it is. The other featurette, “Releasing the Duck,” focuses on what a disaster the film was for everybody. Toward the end, Huyck tries to sell it as a film that has a very appreciative, ever growing cult, as he and Katz say Lucas predicted it would. Even in my blind allegiance, I find that absurd and unfounded. The three vintage pieces are of the short variety; they focus individually on stunts, special effects, and music. These are typical fluff pieces so prevalent at the time. Two teaser trailers round out the package. I have trouble making it to the second trailer; the first has Lea sprawled out on the floor, in all her shoulder padded, crimp-haired glory, acting very seductive.

Is Howard the Duck a bad movie, by most standards? Absolutely. Is it as bad as those precious few people who’ve seen it say it is? Maybe. Will Howard the Duck remain one of my guilty pleasures, and one of my favorite movies? Always. And before you ridicule me, horror fans, check your DVD collection and see if it sports Plan 9 from Outer Space. Go ahead and poke fun at me now. I dare you.

--Phil Fasso

X, THE MAN WITH THE X-RAY EYES

2009-03-27T19:07:32Z

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X, the Man with the X-Ray Eyes

Roger Corman is universally synonymous with schlock, best known for cheaply made crab monsters and exploitation flicks directed by future Oscar winners. I get the feeling that all too often, people forget that Roger Corman had another side that was much more artistic. During a short period, he crafted some well-made, respectable genre films, highlighted by his Edgar Allen Poe cycle. One film from this period is X, the Man with the X-Ray Eyes. Though not a Poe film, it’s on par with the movies from that cycle, and shows off a director who had a talent for making more profound films.

Academy Award winner Ray Milland portrays Dr. James Xavier, a scientist bent on discovering a path to X-ray vision. As so many of his type do in movies of this sort, Xavier decides to experiment on himself. The metaphor of science is apt: humankind groping in darkness, searching for the light. But that obsessive search is often accompanied by a blindness of good sense and conscience, and as Xavier will soon find out, in striving for the light, we often find ourselves plunging deeper into darkness.

As Xavier steps out to test his powers, he finds himself seeing the world in a whole new way, both literally and figuratively This is an AIP movie, so of course there’s a goofy dance number that’s totally out of place with the rest of the film; it can’t help but be silly when Xavier finds himself accidentally looking through a dancer’s dress. But as the movie progresses into less airy fare, Xavier starts the slow descend into madness. When an evil carny takes advantage of Xavier’s gifts, it leads him inextricably down a dark path that results in tragedy.

In lesser hands than Corman’s, X could easily have turned into another silly programmer. But X is actually compelling fare. Anchoring the film is Milland’s performance. His glory days of The Lost Weekend long behind him, and not yet at the point where he’d be making Frogs and The Thing with Two Heads, his Xavier has a gravity to him that a lesser actor probably wouldn’t have been able to evoke. Because he’s serious in the role, it was easy for me to take the film seriously, no matter how outlandish the concept was. In fact, his work here echoes his Oscar winning turn in Lost Weekend, as he’s once again a man falling apart at the seams. In that movie, alcohol was the drug. Here, it’s a concoction that grants him X-ray vision. Either way, he’s an addict, and the consequences are the same.

Anyone who knows Corman’s output and thinks him a hack must listen to his audio commentary. Corman is eloquent and knowledgeable as he discusses practical matters such as casting Milland, and more technical areas such as dolly shots and special effects. The commentary gets intellectual at times, as Corman expounds on the nature of the science fiction film and the role of the scientist in such fare. Corman’s been making movies since the mid-1950s, and he’s an authority on low budget filmmaking. His commentary on X is an enjoyable, and sometimes profound, listen.

The disc also boasts a five minute prologue that was cut from the film after its initial release. The narrator’s speech is a little too on the nose, and the film’s message is better shown than told. There’s also the movie’s theatrical trailer, which gives away a bit too much.

Roger Corman has been called many things over the years, but not often is he called an artist. X, the Man with the X-Ray Eyes and the Poe cycle prove that he was in fact capable of more than throwing cheaply made crab monsters on the screen. A movie about mankind’s quest for greater vision, this one’s well worth a watch.

--Phil Fasso

INVISIBLE INVADERS

2009-03-27T19:00:02Z

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Invisible Invaders

There’s one truly great scene in Invisible Invaders. The camera catches an old clock whose hands tell us it’s 11 o’clock. It then cuts to a long shot of a newspaper; as it zooms in, the headline informs us that Dr. Karol Noymann was buried today. As the clock ceases to chime, a hand knocks on the door, leaving a long shadow hanging in the moonlight. Dr. Adam Penner, obviously awakened by the knocking, heads across the room toward the door. As he opens it, he’s aghast to see his dead friend and colleague Noymann at the door! It takes a few seconds for this to register through the shock and drowse, which are finally broken as Penner exclaims, “Karol!” in astonishment.

This scene is so powerful to me because every time I think of it, I wonder just what I would do in such a situation. With just a few stark shots, edited to maximize the force of the scene, director Edward L. Cahn puts his audience in a creepy situation that begs the question above. Unfortunately, this is the only quality scene in the entire movie.

As the conversation between the two continues, Noymann informs his old friend that he’s an alien inhabiting the dead doctor’s body. He has come to warn Penner that mankind is playing with nuclear power and space travel, and that his kind is preparing to destroy Earth as punishment for humanity’s follies. He then spouts out what should have been the film’s tagline: “THE DEAD WILL KILL THE LIVING...” and tells Penner that the doctor can only save humanity by getting its leaders to surrender to the alien forces.

From such a promising beginning comes one of the most hokey films I’ve ever seen. The dead rise and, to promote their message, they attack—get this—the announcers of a hockey game. This brings forth worldwide chaos, which plays out in stock footage of real upheaval and rioting, accompanied by a voiceover artist who seems, from his intensity, to think he’s working on a breakfast cereal commercial . Dr. Penner, accompanied by his daughter, his protégé, and Major Jay travel 27 miles to an underground base, where he will try to find a way to vanquish the alien-driven zombies. Elsewhere in the world, 27 other scientists are in hiding, working toward the same cause.

Once Penner and co. reach the bunker, the film stalls. In place of action, there’s a lot of talky scientific mumbo jumbo that grinds the movie to a halt. Setting more than one half hour of a film that runs a mere hour and seven minutes in a static location will only work if the film provides compelling characters that generate tension among themselves, which Invisible Invaders does not. The only diversions are the occasional, ridiculous trips into the outside world, in which one of the protagonists dresses in a beekeeper outfit and sprays the undead with a contraption that resembles a leaf blower. Even when Major Jay and the boyfriend, Dr. Lamont, battle each other and destroy much of the lab, it does nothing to thrill. By that point, it’s too late to save the movie.

Boredom is Invisible Invaders’ biggest sin, but far from its only one. Several gaffes plague the film, such as when a character is shot and takes about five seconds to react; and when another character deflects the radiation not with a beekeeper suit, but by rolling up a car window. Even the end credits suffer sloppiness, as Noymann’s first name is listed as “carl.” The acting is another problem. John Agar, of Tarantula fame, gets top billing. His Major Jay is a pushy, unsympathetic. Jean Byron does nothing to distinguish herself in the tired role of the doctor’s daughter, a staple of these films (didn’t scientists in the 1950s ever have sons?) As Lamont, Robert Hutton fulfills the protégé role with a blandness. The only two standouts in the film are John Carradine as Noymann and Philip Tonge as Dr. Penner. As many times as I’ve seen Carradine slumming in absurd fare such as this, he always carries with him a serious dignity, and his voice is second to none. Tonge also plays it straight as a man with the plight of the world on his shoulders. Unfortunately, he’s at the cynosure of some really dreadful material here, that languishes as it forces him to give longwinded speeches. And all his dignity is lost when he picks up the huge ray gun at the film’s climax.

One more way it fails is in promoting the message: nuclear war is bad. Shoehorned in during the encounter between Noymann and Penner, it’s quickly forgotten until the brief resolution at the end. For social commentary to work, it takes more than just dropping a few lines into a film. The work needs to develop the message, and support it with action and dialogue that isn’t silly to the point of absurdity. I’m sure Cahn and his screenwriter, Samuel Newman, had no intent to make a serious movie here. It’s more likely this was just one more piece of hackwork designed to pull in money. As it stands, its ending just gives us a reason to wave our flags as proud Americans. A shame none of the rest of the film gives us reason to be proud of cinema.

The one reason this movie is still of note is that many claim it’s a direct inspiration to George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. Certainly, shots of the dead approaching the camera en masse play out similarly in Romero’s film, which came out nine years later. I suppose one could also make a case that people arguing in an enclosed location and zombies with origins in space all carried over to Night, and the look of the corpses is pretty much the same. But let’s face it: Frankenstein was walking dead with his arms outstretched in the 1930s, and the characters’ squabbles here lack the verisimilitude of those taking place in a farmhouse outside of Pittsburgh. Night is a serious work of art; Invaders is anything but. Any claim that Invisible Invaders greatly influenced Night is as ludicrous as Invaders itself.

Other than Journey to the Seventh Planet on the disc’s B-side, there are no extras.

Invisible Invaders has that one great scene with Noymann and Penner, but does nothing to build on it. Instead of a seminal horror/sci-fi movie, it’s a barely competent, talky waste of time that will satisfy neither alien nor zombie fans.

--Phil Fasso

PAURA: LUCIO FULCI REMEMBERED - VOLUME 1

2009-01-31T21:57:23Z

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Paura: Lucio Fulci Remembered- Volume 1

Note: Paura hits the streets the same day as His Name Was Jason, the retrospective on Friday the 13th! Horror fans should pick up both, and rejoice at such a boon!

Before the advent of DVD technology, we used to know a director solely through his work. Even with the addition of audio commentaries and interviews and the odd True Hollywood Story, his catalogue is usually our most direct source to the mind and soul of the man who created it. For Mike Baronas, knowing Lucio Fulci beyond the films became a cause. His quest to know the real Fulci led to Paura: Lucio Fulci Remembered, Volume 1, a massive collection of interviews with a four hour running time. The disc works as a labor of love, as Baronas was clearly passionate, and dedicated many years to giving an inside view to Fulci for fans who shared his passion. As the director has a rabid following here in the States, Fulci fanatics should eat this disc up.

Before it reaches the menu screen, Paura plays some suspenseful music over distorted pictures of Fulci. That the pictures are not clear is telling; because Paura presents a Lucio Fulci who is remembered in ways that are often contradictory to each other, sometimes within the same interview. Fulci comes across as a complicated man, at odds within himself and the rest of the world, and yet not without instances of kindness and love. If Baronas had been looking for answers in these interviews, he seems to have drawn new questions. This is a boon, as it makes the series of recollections a genuinely interesting look into a man I'm not sure anybody truly knew.

The menu breaks the interviews into three categories: the cleverly titled Victims and Accomplices cover Fulci's actors and crew, respectively. Peers is exactly what it suggests, recollections from Fulci's fellow Italian directors. For each section, there's a Play All option, or you can watch each interview separately. Preceding each interview is a list of credits for the interview subject, as well as a series of pictures. Be forewarned: if you don't speak fluent Italian, be prepared read a lot, as there are a lot of subtitles.

The disc's best quality is its breadth of the interviews. Baronas took the time to speak to nearly 90 people involved with Fulci, collecting stories from all points and genres of the director's long career. With the notable exception of Ian McCulloch, star of Zombie, Baronas managed to hunt down just about every living person who had any importance in a Fulci film. The interviews with Fulci's contemporaries, many of whom were his friends, add some weight by providing an outside perspective. The sheer quantity of all the subjects allows for many different perspectives, and multitudes of anecdotes that address both the director's personal and professional sides. Some of the interviews are more lively than others, but that's to be expected, and really doesn't matter because if you don't like an interview or two, there are upwards of 80 others. Ultimately, Fulci lovers will rejoice as so many stars and colleagues share a wide range of stories.

With this impressive breadth, however, comes a sacrifice in depth. Some of the interviews run upwards of five or six minutes, but most of them are much more abbreviated. Most disappointing was that Catriona MacColl only had time to relate two brief anecdotes; having starred as the lead in Fulci's beloved zombie trilogy, she must have scores of interesting stories to share. Understandably, even at a length of four hours, Paura could only sustain so much content. I just wish I had more out of some of the participants. (One odd note: no less than three of the women interviewed are interrupted by their dog. An interesting curiosity.)

Taken as a whole, the interviews paint a contrary picture of an extremely complicated man. Special effects makeup artist Carlos Rambaldi presents him as extremely happy and kind to all, whereas Beatrice Ring of Zombie 3 describes him as a sadist who tortured his crew and actors. The same man who graciously gave producer Fabrizio De Angelis a painting for helping him obtain a house also slapped an eight year old Luca Ventanini for calling "Cut" when he got confused by a change on the set. Actress Cinzia Monreale fondly recounts how he used to call her a "bitch." The gestalt of Fulci's life displays him as a man with marital problems, and later health problems, as he dealt with diabetes in his physical decline. Some of the subjects use these as excuses for his behavior, while others give him no quarter. Most enjoyable is how many subjects say harsh things about him, but with a smile; clearly they loved him despite his seemingly large flaws. While it's easy to pass off Rambaldi's praise as kind words for a friend who's no longer with us, doing so would discount the inevitable conclusion: Fulci was not easy to understand.

Much of the talk also focuses on Fulci's work. Many of those who worked on his crew discuss his technical genius, which should be obvious to even the most casual observer of his catalogue. Fulci understood how the camera produced mood, and used visuals to create an atmosphere of dread in his best works (and even in some of his worst). Many of his shot compositions are brilliant. So it's no surprise that numerous participants refer to him as the "maestro."

Surprising, then, is how many participants mention that Fulci is largely forgotten in Italy. Given his popularity among American horror fans, many of whom revere him with godlike stature, I was stunned to discover that he has no such following in his own country. Yes, the wave of spaghetti horror coming out of Italy ended long ago, but I have a feeling the country still remembers Argento and Mario Bava. Sadly, Fulci's legacy has been cast aside, just another enigma presented in Paura.

Paura: Lucio Fulci Remembered, Volume 1 seeks to show its audience who and what Lucio Fulci really was. In doing so, it reveals a man who was fully unknown by all who met him, and in the end, unknowable. Fulci remains a mystery, which makes this collection of interviews all the more intriguing than had it provided all the answers.

--Phil Fasso

HIS NAME WAS JASON: 30 YEARS OF FRIDAY THE 13TH

2009-01-10T00:28:21Z

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HIS NAME WAS JASON: 30 YEARS OF FRIDAY THE 13TH

I know that reviewing this documentary might immediately come off as somewhat of a “biased” opinion considering the fact that myself and ICONS co-creator Mike C make brief on-screen appearances, but… despite that, I’m still just a huge fan of the series, and as a gushing fan, I wanted to be able to talk about what other fans can expect from this double disc set!

Firstly, HIS NAME WAS JASON is not what you’d expect from a documentary covering an entire series of films from one specific franchise. At first, I assumed that the doc would probably play out in chronological order, from film to film, sequel to sequel, much like the HALLOWEEN: 25 YEARS OF TERROR documentary. (After all, Anthony Masi served as a producer on both projects.) But I was pleasantly surprised to discover that instead, HIS NAME WAS JASON tackles various subjects from the entire series (for example, people’s perceptions of Jason, Jason’s appeal to fans, the “Friday formula”, his “greatest” hits, the sole survivors, etc.) and funnels them through the people involved in their creation, as well as various horror journalists, filmmakers and fans. It’s an interesting choice from director Dan Farrands, and because of the doc’s structure, you won’t want to skip past any of the chapters because you might miss something! Plus, considering this doc boasts well over 80 interviews, I didn’t want to take my eyes off the screen because I wanted to be able to catch glimpses of various actors through out the series and see what they looked like now. Like Erich (aka Rob “He’s Killing Me”) Anderson from PART 4! Let me also take this chance to say that practically every single female from the series looks even better NOW then they did in the film’s themselves! (See: Jensen Daggett for proof.)

Tom Savini does the honors of hosting FRIDAY-esque segments that lead into each of the documentaries topics. His bits are fun and humorous, totally embodying the “FRIDAY” feel and make for nice segue ways between each subject, especially considering his influence to the earlier movies of the series.

As a fan of the FRIDAY films, you can’t help but be entertained for 90 solid minutes. However, it’s not a totally perfect doc. Rather then delving in depth into the specifics of the makings of each film, tid-bits are instead revealed sporadically during various discussions, such as the FRIDAY franchise’s formula or the analysis of Jason’s continued popularity. This isn’t a bad thing! Fans will enjoy the hell out of it, but it might not be what they’re expecting. From a commercial point of view, the doc definitely strives to hold a steady balance of catering to the average viewer that might not know the basics about the FRIDAY series, while mixing in enough to keep the die-hard fan’s fairly satisfied. For those die-hards, there’s of course the tons of bonus material on the 2nd disc, but we’ll get to that in a moment.

There’s one sequence that currently resides amongst the “Dragged From The Lake” (aka deleted/extended scenes) section of Disc 2 that I thought would’ve made for the perfect center piece to the whole documentary. FRIDAY THE 13TH star Adrienne King talks in great detail about the trouble’s she had following the original film’s release with a stalker. It’s impossible not to get a bit misty eyed for King during this heartfelt segment, especially considering it ends on a positive note with the fans really helping her come back to the limelight. Horror fans often get a bad rap from the general public, but I just thought this beautifully illustrated how important the fan’s genuine love and support means to people like Adrienne. Again, from a commercial stand point, I can understand why the full version of this scene would’ve changed the tone of the doc had it been in the middle of it, but thankfully it’s here in it’s entirety on the 2nd disc.

There’s also a brief sequence talking about the upcoming Platinum Dunes remake/reboot/re-imagining of FRIDAY THE 13TH. I can understand that the producers of the remake are trying to be very secretive about their new film, but they offer very little insight into what their version will be about and how it fits into the FRIDAY franchise. It’s mostly everyone saying “We tried to be respectful. And we think everyone will love our new movie.” Obviously, I’m glad the remake is talked about in some capacity here, but this disc streets the week of the new film’s release & they revealed next to nothing about it. In 10 years when you rewatch this doc, I’d imagine you’d probably skip over the remake scene because it’ll be irrelevant. However, these are all honestly very tiny little nit-picks in the grand scheme of things.

Onward to the special features! On disc 1, we get a section called “The Men Behind The Mask” which features extended interviews with every actor to portray Jason in the series. Highlights include Ted White who played Jason in FRIDAY 4, fan fave Kane Hodder and new Jason Voorhees Derek Mears. White talks candidly about his difference of opinions with director Joseph Zito and how difficult it was to work with the “spoiled” Corey Feldman. Mears interview alone will give you full confidence that they at least got the right person behind the hockey mask for the Platinum Dunes update. You’ll love him after watching how sincere he is about this character in this interview. Disc 2 opens up with the “Final Cuts” section, which is extended interviews with just about all of the director’s from the FRIDAY franchise. (Minus Steve Miner who apparently didn’t want to talk about his FRIDAY experiences.) Highlights include John Carl Buechler, who talks about the various obstacles while making FRIDAY 7 from associate producers hating Jason’s unmasked look to the on-going battle with the MPAA. He had to lobby hard for Kane Hodder to play Jason! (Which is ironic considering Hodder would go on to play the character more then any other actor.) He also goes on to talk about his disappointment with FREDDY VS JASON. After all, we all really wanted to see Hodder’s version of Jason go up against Englund’s Freddy. Adam Marcus’s stories on JASON GOES TO HELL are also fun considering he was only 23 when he got that directing gig!

“From Script To Screen” features extended interviews with a handful of the writers from the FRIDAY series. Damian Shannon & Mark Swift, writers on the new FRIDAY and FREDDY VS JASON offer some of the funniest tid-bits about both those projects, explaining how they’ve had to “sneak” references into their scripts and they claim their script for F V J never said anything about Jason being afraid of water. “Dragged From The Lake” are a series of deleted scenes from the actual doc. Amongst them you’ll find humorous bits such as “Homoerotic Shaving” referencing the infamous scene from JASON GOES TO HELL, as well as “Rat Pee” discussing the scene when Ginny (or is it the rat?) pee under the bed while hiding from Jason in FRIDAY 2. “I’m A Proud Freak” is an impassioned & heartfelt declaration of love for these films and a call of defense for all the fans by Dread Central’s Uncle Creepy. (Love ya, Creepy. We’re all proud freaks!)

Next up is a “Fan Films” section. You’ll find the hilarious FREDDY VS JASON in 30 seconds “with bunnies” animated clip here, as well as “The Angry Video Game Nerd”, which if you’ve ever played the FRIDAY THE 13TH Nintendo game, you’ll totally “get”. “JASON HURTS” is a short film by Dave Neabore that we actually posted HERE on ICONS last year! So it’s great to see it here amongst the disc’s features! “Closing The Book On THE FINAL CHAPTER” features Erich Anderson and FRIDAY 4 director Joseph Zito touring the original house from the film, while in “Fox Goes Home” we get to tour the barn and locations from FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 3 with Gloria Charles. “FRIDAY THE 13TH IN 4 MINUTES” is a 4 minute account of the entire series as told by filmmakers Adam Green, Joe Lynch and Dread Central’s Uncle Creepy. “JASON TAKES COMIC-CON” is a video segment of Dread Central’s FRIDAY interviews from last year’s San Diego Comic-Con. “THE CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE SURVIVAL GUIDE” is a fun featurette laying out all the do’s and don’ts when visiting Crystal Lake. “Inside HALLOWEEN Horror Nights” is a tour of the Universal Studios attraction from last year. And last but not least, “Shelly Lives!”… well, has to be seen to be believed. And hey, if you highlight the red marks on Jason’s mask in the menu screen’s, you just may be treated to a few DVD “easter eggs”.

Overall, as a FRIDAY fan, this double disc is a must-own for your collection. You will undoubtedly devour all of the disc’s contents in a single sitting, much like I did. And considering this comes out the same day as new special editions for the first 3 FRIDAY movies (with more to follow!), and a week prior to the new movie’s release, 2009 is easily shaping up to be the year of Jason Voorhees! -Robg.