Review: Because You’re Dead to Me

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2021
Images from the Internet

Because You’re Dead to Me (aka Dead to Me)
Directed by Chris Maruna
Triple Two Pictures; FilmFreeway
78 minutes, 2021
https://filmfreeway.com/BecauseYoureDeadTome

It is quite understandable why they changed the name of the film from the original Dead to Me, what with the popular 2019 Netflix series with Christina Applegate being so prominent over an independent Canadian film release. Makes sense, and a wise choice to avoid confusion.

Scuzzy criminal defense lawyer Robert (Gardiner Millar) wakes in a hotel room full of his personal things including a heavy heart. It’s his 60th birthday and he is haunted by glimpses of memories. Or is it something more sinister than that. Into his world comes a flinty-voiced sex worker who arrives at Midnight (is she the oasis?), Melanie (Mercedes De La Cruz), who is there for the job to please her client.

Mercedes De La Cruz, Gardiner Millar

The room itself is quite interesting, with a mix of retro and modern. For example, there is a rotary phone and an olde tyme table radio with an arched top, and yet the pill bottles are quite the modern fashion. The lighting is a bit on the dim side with just a touch of a sepia hue, giving this an almost musty, older feel. It is as though Robert’s whole life is encapsulated in that one room, becoming almost a character unto itself.

While Robert is confused about how he got into the hotel room, Melanie suggests it is due to the many empty (and oddly unlabeled) wine bottles. Perhaps it is something more metaphorical, or metaphysical, considering Robert is hearing the phone ringing that Melanie does not, he sees balls of fire come out of nowhere, hears voices, and sees people in disrepair popping in and out.

Nearly the whole film takes place in the hotel room, and virtually all the action (other than visions) is Robert talking to Melanie. In other words, this would actually work as a play, considering its boundaries. Now, it could be pointed out here that those images that he has are quite gruesome so this could fit into the category of grand guignol. There are zombie-like demons, stabbings, and viscera.

As a side note that has nuthin’ to do with nuthin’, Robert is really tall at 6’4”, while Melanie is relatively diminutive at 5’4” (yeah, I looked it up), even though De La Cruz was a professional model; the top of her head comes up to his shoulders. Millar was a professional athlete (and stunt person), being a black belt in Uechi-Ryu karate and silver winner in the 1987 Nova Scotia heavyweight body building championships. He is close the Joey Ramone range of 6’5”.

The film is definitely a slow burn, as it is so heavy with dialogue, but the intercuts of what I called the gruesome even more shocking because it comes unexpected as almost jump scares, nearly seeming to be non-sequiturs, though you know it is going to all tie in by the end. It nearly always does in these kinds of stories, and the viewer’s curiosity is easily intrigued. I never felt bored for a moment even in the most mundane parts of the conversation. Robert and Melanie’s connections with the past keep the conversation flowing and stimulating. The shockingly unexpected parts are just gravy for the smashed potatoes (as we used to call mashies).

This is not what one might view as a typical horror flick. Despite all the viscera and let’s call it loud moments, the tone of most of it plays out more like an episode of “The Twilight Zone.” That’s a compliment. There is even a bit of philosophizing. No, it’s not as dry as, say, My Dinner with Andre (1981). It is also kind of obvious where the direction of the story is going, if you have read the likes of O. Henry or have seen a truckload of genre films that deal with psychological elements, rather than just in your face slasher bits; in this case, it is a well-earned journey. I would like to add, though, that if all the gore was taken out, the film would still work, and would probably be more suitable for mass consumption.

De La Cruz

It is also worth noting that while Millar does a great job, it was De La Cruz who rightfully won the Best Actress award at the Singapore International Film Festival for this role (as well as having been nominated for Best Supporting Actress for another role at the 2019 Vancouver Badass Film Festival).

Amazingly, this is the director’s first full feature,  – and is currently working on his next one, which I hope I get to see – with his previous works being shorts. I have oft said that short films are a version of on-the-job-training. In this case, may I say colloquially, Maruna done good.

The trailer can be found HERE 

Review: Flesh for the Inferno

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Flesh for the Inferno

Produced, directed and edited by Richard Griffin
Scorpio Films Releasing / MVD Visuals
85 minutes, 2015
www.scorpiofilmsreleasing.com
www.facebook.com/fleshinferno
www.mvdvisual.com

Director Richard Griffin is a surfer. No, not the board on the water type (as far as I know), but across genres. Nearly all his films are directed at a specific type of “feel.” For example, he’s covered, in no particular order nor a complete list, ‘70s Grindhouse (The Disco Exorcist, 2011), “Born Again” cinema (The Sins of Dracula, 2014), thriller (Normal, 2013), Jesse Franco Eurotrash (Dr. Frankenstein’s Wax Museum of the Hungry Dead, 2013) and Redneck (Creature from the Hillbilly Lagoon, 2005).

For his latest outing, he’s veering into the Italian Giallo subgenre of the likes of Dario Argento, and Lucio Fulci (d. 1996). If those names mean nothing to you, well, (a) they are worth checking out, and (b) it will not keep you from enjoying this film; you’ll only miss the shadow of the reference which will not interfere with the story.

In the obligatory prologue staged in 1999, we see a Catholic school led by a pedophilic priest (Steve O’Broin, who does both smoldering and outrageous evil so well; I would love to see him cast against type as a good-guy lead at some point). He is confronted by three of the school’s nuns, who are The Cask of the Amontillado-ized, and in a state anger at being put in this position while doing the Lord’s work, turn from their spiritual husband to the Father of Lies (Aaron Andrade).

Hence we are brought back to the present. The school had been abandoned and is getting ready for a make-over. A rag-tag church group is assigned to clean the place up. I’m assuming they are supposed to be high school teens, but… They are led by Mr. Maupin (the eloquent and sophisticated – no, I’m serious – Michael Thurber; did I miss it, or is he not wearing the ginormous ring he usually sports?). Some of the mixed-gender group is anxious to do some good, and most are reluctant to be there at all, mostly forced by unseen parents. Then there is Noah (Jamie Dufault), the do-gooder who just happens to be there helping out and possible love interest to another character, and the sullen and smoldering official watcher (Sean Leser, who steals nearly every scene he’s in) – don’t call him the caretaker – who is ordered there by the Church against his desire to keep an eye on the kids.

Jamie Lyn Bagley

Most of the characters are more fodder than anything else, with the exception of two. First there is Meredith (Jamie Lyn Bagley), who fiercely religious, self-righteous, homophobic and hateful (I once worked with someone just like that, and Jamie nails the attitude). Then there is the obvious heroine of the piece, the lovely redheaded Kat (Anna Rizzo). All is going relatively well, until one of the kids releases the spirits of the three nuns, Sister Millicent (Monica Saviolakis), Sister Luisa (Tiffany Lee Ferris), and the petite Sister Irene (Samantha Acampora, who has an incredible sense of timing, a very identifiably flinty voice…and lips that just don’t quit). Then literally all hell breaks loose.

The writing by Michael Varrati is crisp, with some underlying black and referential wit, but mostly it’s straight ahead demonic horror. An example of the finger-to-the-side-of-the-nose kind of humor I mean is when religious nut Meredith is spouting off, and Noah sarcastically comments that she’s an “utter delight.” This may be in reference to Jamie’s own uber-religious portrayal in The Sins of Dracula; note that Varrati wrote both films, so I doubt this was coincidental.

Although Griffin hasn’t written this film, his playing with religious tropes, especially the thin line between not just good and evil, but heaven and hell, is a relatively common theme, but one he has hardly exhausted. Also, the mixture of straight and gay is another motif he often pursues, though more lightly touched on here than usual. Speaking of which, where lust definitely plays a part in this story, it is not explored as much as in, say, The Sins of Dracula or The Disco Exorcist, but that is certainly made up for in the film’s style and Italiano-flavored flair.

Sean Leser

I am pleased that there is some new blood (pun intended) as far as acting talent present, and I’m also happy to add that there are also some of what I call “the Griffin Players,” those performers (both in front of the camera and behind the scenes, the latter of whom I’ll get to in a bit) who appear regularly in his films. In no particular order, Dufault plays one of his most natural roles, without some of the theatre-based “tells” that he sometimes has employed, including body language. He comes across as an extremely likeable “everyman.” Likewise, Michael Thurber, who can overact to just the right level when the role calls for it (e.g., the titular roles in both The Sins of Dracula and Frankenstein’s Wax Museum [etc.], and in Future Justice [2014], where he plays a wacked-out version of himself!), also comes across very natural and likeable; it’s common for the Adult Supervisor role to be portrayed as a dick in “Kids in Danger” films, but Thurber is sympathetic, and in a bit of a Bugs Bunny-ish/Groundhog Day-ish (1993) amusing way in one particular scene.



Anna Rizzo

In a co-lead role, Rizzo performs really well holding her own, especially as the tension and bodies build up. She does a masterful painful, almost banshee-level yelp, which helps the story. She has the look of a leading actress (yes, I know the term now is actor), beyond the genre. As for Bagley, as I’ve mentioned in previous reviews, she also has a profound sense to timing. You can both hate her character’s homophobia and emotional blindness via a feel of superiority to others, and still care about what is happening to her.

 

There are also a couple of extended cameos worth talking about. One is by Rich Tretheway as a police officer, and the other is Sarah Nicklin, one of the more outstanding – well, I don’t know if the term Scream Queen is accurate or not, so I’m going to go with Genre Queen. She plays an extremely hot prostitute in the tightest of hooker shorts, and is a very strong comedy relief to start. In real life (i.e., Facebook), director Griffin often calls her his “muse,” and it’s understandable. She always comes across as a smart woman who has a lot of inner strength, and her characters tend to reflect that as well. I do have to admit, though, that when I saw her name in the opening credits, I was wondering if she was going to revive her role as Sister Wrath from Nun of That (2009).

As for the three nuns in this story, well, they could only have been scarier if they had rulers in their hands. The result of their actions throughout is a gorefest that is exquisite, and occasionally cheesy (e.g., the person continually crashing into a door, for example, really does like the effects from a ‘70s Italian film). As for nudity, well, there is none (nun) of that, but there definitely is a pretty hot-under-the-collar scene that is both rawr and ugh at the same time.

At this point, I also need to make a comment about the whole look of the film. Many of Griffin’s films have a kind of auteur look to them, with bright blues and reds splashed across scenes as metaphors (red = hell, or evil anyway, for example). This is mostly from Griffin, but it’s important to give a nod to Assistant Directors (and occasionally actor, though not here) Nat Sylva and Mark Hutchinson, though more importantly to Griffin’s visual right-hand person and cinematographer extraordinaire Jill Poisson, who deserves a nod all her own.

Every time a new Richard Griffin film is released, it’s always a thrill just to wonder what genre he is tackling and honoring next. And I feel privileged to be able to review such fine work by the director, the cast, and the crew. The more films of Griffin’s I watch, the more I feel like this group are friends, even though I’ve never met a lick of ‘em.

Oh, by the way, you can see the reviews of most the Griffin films above by searching this blog.

Review: A Black Heart in White Hell

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

A Black Heart in White Hell

Written, directed, edited and scored by Dustin Wayde Mills
Cumpleshack Films / Dustin Mills Productions (DMP)
32 minutes, 2015
DVD available HERE
VoD available HERE:

Western culture’s idea of Heaven and Hell is actually a relatively new concept. Oh, sure, there has almost always been a vision of the afterlife, be it hangin’ out with Ra or Osiris. However, while Heaven being a place of beauty and Hell of torment may have been sparked by the likes of the Bible that hinted at it, what we know of it comes from both later literature (such as Dante’s Inferno and Paradisio [both 1472], and John Milton’s Paradise Lost [1667]) and art (numerous paintings in the Renaissance especially were quite graphic; check out the gruesome work of Hieronymus Bosch [d. 1516]).

In our present time, Heaven and Hell have become more of a concept, with the punishment becoming honed specifically for the person to be penalized. A couple of examples of this include an amazing Richard Matheson story from the original Twilight Zone in 1960, Paul Simon selling his soul to the Devil and being stuck on an elevator for eternity as Elevator Music versions of his songs play on a 1980s Saturday Night Live, and even The Devil in Miss Jones (1973), where a virgin who commits suicide learns through multiple and varied experiences to need sex, and then is denied orgasms.

In a similar beginning to Miss Jones, at the start of this film we meet the multi-inked main character, identified only as The Woman (Reagan Root), who gets into a tub and grabs a gun after writing on the mirror, in blood (not saying whose) “Not Sorry.” As this is the slogan for the film, I don’t believe I’m revealing much. Well, the trailer will tell the story up to here, anyway.

She awakes in the room which is completely covered in white that is the locus of the rest of the film. All that’s there is an old computer monitor (with the cathode tube, which I’m guessing Dustin wisely got in a garage sale for real cheap), a couch and a garbage container.

I don’t usually do this, but due to the complexity of the story and the shortness of the film, there will be some spoilers in only the next paragraph. This is something I almost never do, so please forgive me, or just skip to after the picture.

The Black Heart of the title is reference to the woman due to her cold naturedly killing three dudes in graphic mode with various weapons, though it’s never explained why she did them in. I can live with that in a film of this length. That she has to apply those same weapons on herself I’m assuming is part of the punishment.

SPOILER FINISHED

Mills started his career doing weird comedies like Puppet Monster Massacre (2010) and Zombie A-Hole (2012), and then did the extremely serious and excellent Skinless (2013; all three reviewed elsewhere on this and another blog). In the last couple of years, his films have turned ever darker, delving into extreme images on line with the likes of Audition (1999) with titles such as Kill That Bitch (2014), Her Name Was Torment (2014) and The Hornet’s Sting and the Hell It’s Caused (2014). I have not had the opportunity to see those later ones, as of yet. But one thing is definitely clear: Mills’ output has been vastly improving. I mean, his skill as a filmmaker was actually better than most right out of the gate, but his artistic turns here using the sharp and highly contrast black and white, with no dialog other than a clip from the public domain and appropriate Betty Boop cartoon, “Minnie the Moocher” (1932; the entire short is available on the DVD among the numerous extras) are quite effective in setting the mood and the action.

Like most auteur genre directors, Mills has his tropes, which tend to crop up in his films regularly. Here you can find lots of blood, gore, nudity, and the occasional creepy and wondrous sock-and-latex-sourced monster puppets (he discusses the makings of these on his Facebook page, so again, not really giving too much info).

Two of his most common regulars also appear here, but rather than themes, they are people, namely Brandon Salkil (dude, you realize that you die in just about all of your friend’s films, right?), and actor/reviewer/director (I look forward to seeing his directorial review, Slimy Little Bastards) Dave Parka, who vlogs under the name MrParka. I’m a fan of Brandon from Zombie A-Hole Days as he is, in my opinion, the new Bruce Campbell (well, additional Campbell); Parker, a more recent Mills addition, shows that he is really improving in his acting chops, as he give a solid, albeit short performance here. Root also does an solid job holding up this movie as its central character, doing well in putting subtleties of emotion – or lack of them when necessary – still managing to make her somewhat pitiable by the end.

One of the aspects I also like about Mills’ work is the subtle way he uses themes we’re all familiar with, and incorporates them in a way that gives them a new twist so they come out as original. For example, there is the aforementioned Miss Jones opening, and also present is a bit of Groundhog Day (1993) and the Donald Sutherland version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Mills gets a lot of his 30 minutes, that is both extremely simplistic in its presentation (much like Buddy Holly’s music, it is actually more detailed on closer observation), and complex in its messaging. I like the way Mills works, his trove of cast and crew members, and the way he uses latex and wool, in a fine mix of appliances and digital.

The extras on the DVD (not of Video on Demand) are plentiful, as I said, including the aforementioned Betty Boop cartoon, two original short films at 10 minutes per, and an audio commentary.

If you like some of the greasy and gooey, the monsters and the pain, then this will make a good introduction to check out and get you to jump on the Dustin Wayde Mills train, because as usual, he’ll take you on a helluva ride!

Trailer HERE