All genres of suspense, terror, and horror will be reviewed by Richard Gary. His address to send preview copies supplied upon request to rbf55@msn.com.
Ghostwatch Directed by Lesley
Manning BBC; Screen One; Sonopress;
MVD Entertainment
91 minutes, 1992 / 2022 www.sonopress.de www.mvdvisual.com
Right now, there is a
proliferation of Ghost Hunters type shows on cable television. I have watched a
couple of them, and they suck, so obviously made up or at the very least
stretching credulity. But this BBC1 film dates back to 1992, ahead of the
crowded market, and is presented as a real documentary. There is little
indication beyond the credits that it is fiction and exclaims itself as “live,”
and comes across as a news program like ”20/20” or “60 Minutes.” This is helped
by it being hosted by respected newsman Michael Parkinson and well-known
celebrity Mike Smith (d. 2014).
As with Orson Wells’
radio broadcast of “War of the World” (1938), some people did not realize it
was a scripted piece as this was way before the popularity of the Found Footage
genre, so much of the audience was caught unawares. And like Wells’ radiocast,
this was presented on October 31.
Mike Smith, Michael Parkinson, Sarah Greene
In a regular looking
home on Foxhill Drive (in England; I am assuming London), the Ghostwatch team
is arriving to investigate the ghostly happenings in that house (the example
they show is actually laughable for a number of reasons, but incredibly
reminiscent of Paranormal Activity in 2007, nearly a decade later). Hosting
the team is annoying comedian Craig Charles (of “Red Dwarf” fame). Note that
most of the main characters are playing themselves. The “reporter” from the BBC
and lead is Sarah Greene, who was married to Mike Smith at the time, which is acknowledged
in the program, thereby giving it more credibility.
Like Geraldo Rivera
and Al Capone’s vault (do you remember that?), for a while everything is pretty
mundane as they switch back and forth between the house and the studio, where Parkinson
and Smith interview a parapsychologist, Dr. Lin Pascone (Gillian Bevan), the
owner of the house, Pam Early (Brid Brennan), and take calls from people who have
possible ghostly experiences. Taking the counterpoint poo-pooing the events, is
American Dr. Emilio Sylvestri (Colin Stinton).
Brid Brennan and the Wesson sisters
One of the questions
in this show is whether or not the events are a poltergeist, due to the two
puberty-period (no pun intended) Early daughters and real-life sisters, Kimmy
(Cherise Wesson) and Suzanne (Michelle Wesson). Or, perhaps, could it be
something more sinister?
Before we get to the
meat of the matter, when the banging hits the walls, the film almost mocks
itself with a series of red herrings that I thought was really well written (by
Stephen Volk, who started his career with Gothic, the 1986 story of the
creation of the Frankenstein novel).
Craig Charles, Brennan
This is the first time
this has been released on Blu-ray, which looks incredibly crisp. There are some
nice extras. First up is a brand-new Audio Commentary with British film
historians Dr. Shellie McMurdo (University of Hertfordshire/University of
Roehampton, whose interests include the horror genre, trauma theory, Found Footage
horror, and torture horror) and Dr. Stella Gaynor (University of Salford;
author of Made for TV Monsters: How has the rise of horror on US television
impacted on the spectacle and acceptability of the genre?, as well
as being a horror make-up artist). They discuss how original this TV film was
at the time. The two Docs, who are personable, for quite a while discuss their
reactions to the film when they saw it as young’ns. Eventually, they mention
how certain scenes are culturally effective. It is a bit self-centered, but so
refreshing than most of the flat and clinical, “Here is how it got started,
cast stories, effect on culture” cliché commentaries.
Also new for the
Blu-ray is the documentary, “Do You Believe in Ghosts?: 30 Years of Ghostwatch”
(48 min). This is essentially a Making Of documentary, filled with interviews
with the cast (Greene and Bevan), crew (including director Manning and writer
Volk), among others. It is engaging and a bit of an historical document about
the filming. It is mixed with scenes of the film that you have probably just
watched, but using it as reference points to the conversations, works. It is
well put together, and worth the view.
Gillian Bevan
Also on the disc is an
archival commentary with writer Stephen Volk, producer Ruth Baumgarten, and
director Lesley Manning. They give a bit more details about both the technical
ends of the film and anecdotes. It amazes me that after all these hours of
commentary, there is very little overlap of information. My guess is that this
commentary was recorded for the DVD release in 2014. Last is the “Shooting
Reality” featurette by director Lesley Manning (8 min). This shows parts of the
script, the house floor plan, and Manning’s notes about it as she describes it,
among other things. There is also the only clear and close-up picture of the ghost,
Pipes (Keith Ferrari).
What kind of reaction
did the audience have during the show and after? Well, the BBC announced that
they received over a million phone calls that were both favorable and
complaints by people who thought it was real (despite the credits at the beginning
and end).
Greene
Just for the originality
in its format, this is as an important television moment as Captain Kirk mixing
it up with Uhura. There was no reality television frame of reference, and this
makes it all the more powerful, and worth remembering when you watch this, and
you really should. So much fun.
Oh, and there are
reportedly 11 appearances of the ghost, Pipes. I saw four. Drinking game? Or
maybe every time you see the two-liter bottle of Coke.
In an Amusing Ourselves to Death world, according to Neil Postman in 1985,
entertainment becomes our focus, rather than the real world around us, leading
to the collapse of culture. Examples of this abound, with some people walking
off cliffs in search of non-existent Pokémon Go characters, others drive
two-ton machines full speed down a highway or crowded street while texting.
There are also those who would rather watch sports than participate in them or other
actually important social contract behavior such as voting for a viable leader;
they’d rather opinionate without doing the research, or instead watch a woman
with three dragons take sword to kings on television. But it runs both ways, as
not only are there viewers, but there are also the creators of such
distractions.
In Ireland, as we are introduced to this
story, is Tony Aiello (Matthew Toman), a slimy Geraldo-style “journalist” with
no moral compass, whose purpose in life is to find people to interview, and
make them look as foolish in documentaries. With his film crew (Alan Rogers on
camera and the cute Emma Dunlop on sound boom), he has lined up his latest
victims, obtained from social media contact: the Gallagher family, small-time operators who are willing to let Aiello
into their world. But right from the start, the viewer knows that something is
rotten in the state of County Dublin. The title of the film even hints at it.
I promise I won’t go into spoiler alert
territory, but it soon becomes obvious that while Aiello is playing the
Gallaghers for his own gain, the tide will soon turn for ominous reasons.
The Gallaghers and their crew are a nutsy
bunch, showing that a level of insanity may run in this family and group,
possibly on the Usher level (the EA Poe story, not the singer, so back off). K (Jason
Sherlock) is the pretty face that draws the flies to the spider, as it were,
but it is brother Daz (Darren Travers) who is in charge of the operation (and
it’s Travers who steals just about any scene he’s in). Also aiding them
silently in a possible Leatherface nod is Nickey Gallagher, aka Babyface, for
reasons that are immediately obvious (played menacingly by the very muscular
and intimidating director, Jason Figgis).
If I may pull back and digress here a mo,
this documentary style filming is an offshoot of the found footage subgenre, in
that those on camera filming the story are actually shooting the film, as well.
There is a nice touch as the scenes cut between the two camera, and you hear
the differences in the sound from each (the quality changes between the boom
and the home videocamera, for example, or those closer to the shooting are
louder than those further away). For once, not
balancing the sound makes sense.
Starting off slow, the menacing and alarm
levels start to kick in at about 15 or 20 minutes (the first of which are used
for exposition), and then continue to increase exponentially. By the time
everything is explained out, the viewer will cringe, but at the same time has
some sense of identification with the retribution-seeking Gallaghers.
Darren Travers as Daz
Joining the family is some friends, including
two camera people (video and still), and the hair obsessed Terese (Shauna
Ryan), an intense woman who does not take kind to insult and is often saying, “You
take that back!” There is actually a lot of repetition of dialog by many of the
characters, such as Daz’s insistence to just about everyone, “Are you gettin’
this?!” It actually makes it even more frightening rather than “samey” as you see
the level of madness – both in the level of anger and craziness – reaches the crescendo.
That aspect also gave it a real
feeling, perhaps of improv on the part of the actors. Anyway, it works.
If I could change any one thing in this film,
I would add subtitles, as sometimes the accents get a bit thick, but it’s
always easy to pick out the oft used “fook.” Perhaps the option will be on the
DVD release, but there are parts where I really had no idea what was being said
literally, but the intent was loud and clear so I don’t think I really missed
anything.
There is little blood in the film, and much
of the actual violence is done off-screen, but that does not hinder the level
of both malevolence and banality of evil that are present. Bleak has its place
in life, and this story certainly lends itself to just that. In fact, it is the
quality of the story and the compassion for the characters that actually arises
out of that despair, even with the
excess violence.
Figgis seems to revel in the bleak, such as in
his previous film reviewed on this blog, Children
of a Darker Dawn (HERE). That being said, it should be added that he excels in it, as well, even with
the feeling that it could have been edited down a bit. However, it is also enhanced
by the mostly subtly and dissonant notes of a really fine score by Michael
Richard Plowman.
Sure there is no sign of cell phones, nicely making
the timing of the film a bit up in the air, but even so the prevalence of
technology still manages to make itself felt, as both sides of the table
document the situation, including some group shots of both victims and victors,
even though in the long run, everybody loses a bit of their own soul, and not
just to the image as some religions believe about taking pictures.
Directed by Jim O’Rear and
Daniel Emery Taylor Deviant Pictures / itn distribution / MVD
Visual 129
minutes, 2014 / 2015 www.mvdvisual.com
Slasher
spoofs range from the good (such as Bloody
Bloody Bible Camp [2012]) to the bad
(A Haunted House [2013]). This
one, originally released under the title Fat
Chance? Well…
After
the seemingly mandatory opening killing during a mandatory full-nude shower
scene, we are presented with a behind the scenes story (not found footage, gratefully)
of a reality television show called “In for a Pound,” where the winner of $1
million will be whomever loses the most weight in the month of shooting.
Among
the group is a few Redneck bullies (one well played by co-director Daniel Emery
Taylor – which is not surprising as it was filmed in Marion, ‘Bama), an
exceedingly offensive gay stereotype, a jumpsuit wearing paisan from Jersey (Soprano’s reference, I’m pretty sure), an
old white rapper self- branded as Two Ton, a Marilyn Mason-type goth named Darc
Ness, a Latino who doesn’t speak Ingles,
and the nice and shy guy who writes poetry named Jeremy (Nick Huntsman in his
first film role, a great horror actor name if I ever heard one). He has a crush
on the show’s inadequate nurse, Stefani (Megan Hunt), and she just may be
warming up to him – or not – or…
Among
the others surrounding this gaggle-plus-three of bears (you heard me) is the
sadistic exercise coach (G. Larry Butler, a kingpin in manga voice-overs), an
equally sadistic “babysitter” to make sure the contestants stay in line (professional
wrestler Al Snow), the also equally sadistic food nazi, Arthur (David Coffin),
the also sadistic power hungry host, Warren (co-director Jim O’Rear, in the first
role I have ever seen anyone vaping), a New Agey Dr. Phil-modelled doctor,
James (Carl Donovan), and the one sane and somewhat professional person on the
entire crew, the producer Natalie (Ava Cronin).
Oh,
and the masked killer is a wonder, and possibly the funniest thing in the film.
Diminutive, with an apron on (food kind, not industrial), and for a mask a
bucket from a chicken shack that has two small holes cut out for the eyes.
Using
what I call the James Balsamo School of
Cameo (meant totally as a compliment), the top liners of the film who are
actual “names” are all in it for brief periods, probably available for the day.
In this case it’s ex-porn star Bree Olson of Human Centipede III (2015), the above mentioned Snow, Scott
Tepperman of the Ghost Hunters
International cable show (which I’ve never seen), and classic genre actor
Dick Warlock. But that’s not fair, in this case, because most of the cast has a
huge screen credit list (though most of them are sort of One Day Shooting
appearances, as well).
The
idea of the film works well as an homage
to the genre, and Independent Film
Quarterly’s quote on the back of the DVD box, “It’s The Biggest Loser meets Friday
the 13th” is actually quite accurate, but much of the humor falls flat in
its reach for the gross (partially melted chocolate bars under man-boobs and a
slab of human crap-in-the-face for example). But the SFX, which is appliance
rather than digital, is superb. Lots of blood, guts, gore and mayhem, and the using
various weapons is amazingly effective.
Also
impressive is that I did not figure out who was the killer beforehand, which is
rare. I made a guess (though I wasn’t sure why), and was completely off. Kudos
on that. Plus there is a fight scene with Snow that is funny and feels somewhat
partially improvisational. What drove me crazy, though, was sometimes it seemed
the humor outweighed (pun unintended) the reason we are there. For example, the
blade of the machete that the killer uses is not only way too thick and looks
plastic, but at one point, the killer actually grabs the damn thing by the blade. Purposeful? One would
hope.
There
are three major issues I had with the film. First of all, there are way too
many dialog scenes that do nothing to further the story, and trimming them
would have easily cut 20 minutes off the film length. For example, when the two
romantic leads yak it up discussing each other rather than the events, it was repetitive
and went on too long. Also, the obligatory opening with Olson and two others sitting
on hotel beds discussing what to do with the evening just goes oooooooooon; I said to the television,
in a British accent of course, “C’mon, move it along, there’s nothing here to
see here.”
Speaking of the opening, my second point, other
than having Olson there and her do a full frontal nude shower scene, it added
nothing to the story, or at the very least was not well explained, other than a
reference in the film’s coda (if the directors want to tell me what I’m missing,
please feel free in the comment section; and why the scabs?).
For
me, the biggest contention in the film, and this is true for many low budget
genre flicks, is the bad and overacting is over the wall. Yes, I understand
Lithgow did it and got a ton of awards for it on Third Rock from the Sun, but as much as I respect him for his work,
I hated what he did in that show. Here, again considering the large volume of
credits some of the actors have, I wonder if either there was a lack of
commitment, purposeful scenery chewing to add to the “humor” or lack of
competency. That being said, there was one standout in the film by a mile, and
that was Ava Cronin. Her timing was mostly spot on, and you really got the
feeling she was pissed off. When she spits out a line, I bought it. Yeah, there
was some facial mugging towards the end, but mostly her scenes were the
highlights for me.
So,
it’s a mixed bag. The film was shot well, the gore effects (especially in the
opening) were totally enjoyable, the sound was really good, the choice of music
was enjoyable (my mind has erased the one rap song), the editing cohesive albeit
a tad long, as I said, and the lighting was just right so it was easy to see
what was going on at night; and then there is everything else I whined about
previously. If you know what you’re going in for, though, you may actually find
some of the faults charming.
To
be fair, I would like to acknowledge that it did win Best Horror at the Dark
Zone Film Festival, and was official selections at the Alabama Phoenix
Festival, Marble City Comic Con, and the Creative Con.
Take
it this next comment or leave it, and I understand why you would, but for a
reality show, there really was a lack of cameras around. In fact, it’s only
there in one scene. But that’s just me… Other than that and the DVD having no
extras except the trailer, the only thing really missing is the Rodney
Dangerfield jokes: “He’s so fat, when he sits around the house, he sits around the house. He weighed himself on
one of those talking scales and it said, ‘One at a time, please.’ He’s so big,
he has his own area code.” Thank you and good night. Try the veal!
These exploitations seem to go together
for a number of reasons. First of all, they’re supposed documentaries about
real bands that are not your average run of the mill groups. Second, they both
came out around the same time. Third, they are both award winners of dubious
prizes. Finally, the odds at success for the bands are a bit farfetched. Other
than that, these two groups are worlds apart, as are the styles of the film.
And enjoyment levels.
The Lost Realities of Hog Caller Written, directed and edited by Tom Richards TPR Productions Wild Eye Releasing 85
minutes, 2011 www.wildeyereleasing.com www.mvdvisual.com
This “found footage” mockumentary
about a grindocre duo called Hog Caller is a nearly psychedelic ride into the
backwoods of Middletown, PA, home of Three Mile Island, and apparently Osama
bin Laden. Who knew?
With just a little too much fondness
for pig heads and David Lynch’s Eraserhead
(1977), this real (?) band of two lunatics live out in the woods. A local
television reporter, Skip Jenkins, is doing a piece on “Where Are Hog Caller,”
and has apparently bought a box of video (yes, VHS) tape home Hog Caller
movies, and we watch them interspersed with Skip, and a whole mess of messed up
crap.
Words used to describe this on the
box include “Repugnant” and “Sickest,” and yeah, it is that. Lots of pig bodies
and disembodied heads with flies flying around them are shown in various stages
of decay. One little one is dressed in a bonnet and hauled around as if it was
a baby, on a playground swing or getting ice cream by one of the Callers.
There is also something about a guy
in a bad rubber George W. Bush mask (actually supposed to be Bush) giving money
to a way-too-short guy dressed in Arab garb with a very fake beard (an obviously
blond dude), who has a shooting camp just outside of town where the targets
have pictures of Jesus and Mary in the middle of them. Yep, it’s designed to
offend more than succeeds in being funny. I wasn’t offended, and didn’t find it
funny, either. Just too obvious. Osama is taken out by one of the Callers who
is out huntin’.
Everyone here has only this film to
their credit, but I’m pretty sure that’s because most people use fake names
that one could call Moe’s Bar with, such as Phil Morehole, Stinky Puscadero,
Brenda Paxil, Emily Zoloft, Sandy Seroplex, and Suzy Jihad.
Lots of drug mention/use, lots of alcohol,
lots of fast editing, many dead animals, and little of anything else, such as
story (again, the Eraserhead homage).
But the problem with the film isn’t that it’s “repugnant” and gross, which it
is at times, the biggest issue I have with it is actually the same one I had
with Eraserhead: it’s pointless. I
don’t mind weirdness, and I don’t mind psychotropic filmmaking, but at least
keep it interesting.
I’m not sure if Hog Caller is an
actual group, but for the purposes of this film, they are the duo of Tom
Richards (bass and vocals, aka the Dirtfarmer, aka the director of this film)
and Steve O’Donnell (guitar, aka Vomitrocious). The instruments and vocals are
fed through a synthesizer to make it into noise. They call it grindcore. Okay.
There are also a lot of real animal carcasses (mostly pigs). The gore that is
shown as bodies are chopped up toward the end, are obviously some of the animal
parts from the animal butcher shop where the rest of the carcasses are bought.
Extras are the trailer and a making
of documentary.
All in all, I found this more
annoying than disturbing, and equally boring as gross. I am annoyed because I
feel like I just watched two guys masturbating for 84 minutes in their own ego.
Tight Written and directed by Shaun Donnelly Mind Engine Productions Wild Eye Releasing 114
minutes, 201X www.wildeyereleasing.com www.mvdvisual.com The band (left to right in picture
above: Tuesday Cross: bass Alicia Andrews: drum Monica Mayhem: vox Bree Olson: manager Layla Labelle: guitar
I have seen this described as both a
documentary and a mockumentary, and that’s just on the same DVD cover! And yet,
they both feel accurate.
Porn actress Bree Olson tries her
hand in “reality” filming. Mixing the biz she knows and the idea first fomented
through the Monkees, she enlists four of her colleagues to form an all-girl
pornstar rock band. Most of the women knew their craft musical before (albeit
somewhat limited), and in Micky Dolenz fashion, Alicia Andrews learned to play
the drums just before joining in the group.
From there, it starts to feel like
most other reality shows. The four women are put up in a house together so
tension can both build through familiarity (remember, pornstars tend to be
grown on body image and ego) and induced situations. Here, they have five days
from forming to their first performance. The first piece of armor scratching
comes when Monica Mayhem wants to rehearse (i.e., sing) no more than three
hours a day to save her voice. This is actually not far off standard, but it
causes a supposed ruffle in the band while the other three bond without her.
What I would have done is sing the three hours, but stay with the band while
they rehearse to form a collective, rather than stay home. We don’t see where
the decision not to be there comes from, be it from Monica or the producer(s)
(Olson).
During that first gig, where Tight
are told they are going on first rather than headlining (well, duh, they’ve
only been together for five days, and the now-headliner is fellow pornstar and
more established awful pop singer, Brittaney Starr), it feels like a planned
set-up to see their reactions. During the gig, Monica tells the bassist,
Tuesday Cross, to flash her ass, which she does. They then show an insert of an
interview with guitarist Layla Labelle (and her lovely Montreal accent)
rightfully saying, when up on stage they should separate the band from the
porn. This is thrown out the window as by the second show Monica is shown
singing topless.
There is a lot of nudity and sex
(sometimes from porn shoots especially, and a supposedly spontaneous scenes that
seem way too…convenient with a camera going a foot in front of the action) from
everyone involved. The sex is all hard softcore, i.e., no male body parts shown,
but does not shy away from it or give any indication that is it faked). Which
brings me to this topic: this is not a horror film, so why is it on this blog?
Well, for a number of reasons, but specifically because this is not limited
only to blood and gore, but also to exploitation and sexploitation as well, and
this definitely fits into those two categories, especially since it is an indie
production. True, I had to look just about everybody up to find information on
them, but hey, it’s all in the line of duty, right?
So, speaking of formulated situations
to get reaction, Olson brings her sex-obsessed and Ichabod Crane-like cousin
Joel as Assistant Manager. He’s a creepy guy who likes to see Olson on-location
filming sex scenes while eating sardines from a can with his fingers, who is
brought into the producing of Tight’s first music video. Naturally, Olson goes
and leaves the guy (real or a written character, I’m not sure) there to foster
more angst among the group. This just feels too fabricated and planned, but at
the same time it’s like an accident where you can’t avert your eyes. If you
decide to see this, I guarantee you will utter, out loud, “ewwww.”
Brittaney Starr, in a totally see
through top and looking a bit worn, shows up at a rehearsal tells Tight they
sound “rusty.” Again, this feels like Starr and Olson planned this to rattle
the women for the camera.
An ill-fated tour to Denver strands
the ladies with lots of misadventures and a solo bubble rub in a tub (again,
does not feel spontaneous). To make some money, of course there’s some porn
filming. Shouldn’t Bree, as their manager, send them some cash? I’m beginning
to wonder if there is a more hardcore version of this planned? Will I see it?
Nah, but I’m curious to know if I’m right. For me, that’s one of the biggest
issues about the video is that all the sex is so unspontaneous, and most of the
situations they are put in feel scripted. There are some moments that feel
real, like Layla being mad at Tuesday for whipping her with her studded belt buckle
when Tuesday is wasted. It is almost like she doesn’t know how to express her
anger because it feels real. A lot of the other anger that is expressed,
though, I don’t know if it’s normal band-on-tour-tight quarters kind of stuff,
or triggered by things that we don’t see, or there is someone off-camera
saying, “Okay, you and you fight this time.” The line between real and script
is sometimes easy to see, and sometimes not as much.
Lots of mayhem (pun unintended) as
the ladies drink and slug it out both figuratively and literally, leading up to
a record producer hearing them play on day 37. What happens then, you’ll have
to see, but it’s pretty clear.
But, you are probably asking, this is
about an all-woman pornstar rock band. How are they? Well, I have certainly
seen a lot – and I mean a lot worse
over the years. The playing is rudimentary, the songs are kinda repetitive, the
vocals are okay, and, well, they’re not bad though not great. Considering we
follow them together for the mere 37 days of this shoot, and they have their
first live gig within the first week, it’s actually pretty impressive. I don’t
think they could go anywhere on just
being a rock band, without the gimmick of their other life, but yeah, they’re
decent.
The closest I have come to the
reality of this is seeing Penthouse Pet of the Year Cheryl Rixon front a band
in the early 1980s or so. That was pretty good, but she was helped along by her
co-Australian bandmate, who used to be in the Easybeats (“Friday on My Mind”).
Tight don’t have that option (that we see).
There are lots of cool extras
including many deleted scenes which
are enjoyable, a couple of music videos, photo shoots, multiple trailers for
both this film and the wonderful Wild Eye Releasing, and so much more.
So, this m/d/ocumentary smacks of
reality TV, including the incidental music and pacing, but it sure beats out
some of the other fakes, such as Honey Crap Crap and Duck Shit, whatever they’re
called.
