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.
This release is not to be
confused with Night Zero(2017), as Day Zero also goes for the almost-zombie throat.
Remember back in the late
1960s and early ‘70s when the Philippines was a place that released numerous “B”
horror releases (many starring John Ashley; d. 1997), be they cheesy, such as Mad
Doctor of Blood Island (1968) and The Twilight People (1972)?
Well, this has shown the
quality has quite improved for Filipino fright flicks (presented in Tagalog, Filipino, sign language, and
some English, with easy to read English subtitles) over the years, and are
still cheesy fun, but a lot more sophisticated, professional looking, and
relatively make more narrative sense (relative to the topic at hand).
Brandon Vera
As the prologue tells us,
there is an outbreak of dengue fever “also known as break-bone fever, a viral
infection that spreads from mosquitoes to people” (paraphrased from Wikipedia).
But like Covid, for this imagining, it has mutated into turning people into (fast)
flesh-biting zombie-ish creatures; they are not into eating as much as biting
and infecting, sort of like Korea’s Train to Busan (2016). While they
are merely hyper-infected, they look like classic zombies; the make-up is
incredibly well done. Though they can run, they move quite spasmodically and
only communicate through screams. It can seem a mix of [Pick a time of day]
of the Living Dead and …28 [pick a timeframe] Later, with a bit of [*REC]
(2007) thrown in for good measure. And of course, we cannot forget the
granddaddy of all violent bite infection flicks, Rabid (1977).
Our central character is the
heavily tattooed former U.S. elite soldier Ramon “Emon” Marasigan (Brandon Vera,
aka “The Truth”; retired Filipino-American World Kickboxing Association [WKA]
Super Heavyweight Champion, ONE Championship Heavyweight World Champion, WEC 13
Heavyweight Grand Prix Champion, and inducted in the Grappler's Quest Hall of
Fame). He is in a Filipino prison for aggravated assault. Hell, he is so big,
he could cripple me with a strong stare.
Mary Jean Lastimosa
His estranged wife, Sheryl
(Mary Jean Lastimosa) and young, deaf daughter, Jane (Freya Fury Montierro)
wait in what looks like some overcrowded poor area at a seven-floor walk-up
apartment building. Due to the outbreak, Emon breaks out (see what I did
there?) of prison with his friend Timoy (Pepe Herrera). Meanwhile, Sheryl gets
separated from Jane in the apartment melee. It was pretty obvious that the
story would be the quest of the three finding each other again.
Also understandable,
thankfully, is that there will be a lot of fighting by Emon, be it
prisoners, zombies, or what all. And it certainly does not fail in that regard:
MMA-style moves, crude objects (e.g., boards), and eventually tactical armory
(see the trailer).
Pepe Herrera
The cinematography by Mo
Zee is quite well done, with some camera effects that work well with the storyline
and keeps the eye on the screen. This is a gross generalization, but Asian cinema
really does present action scenes with pizazz.
Vera acts his role well,
albeit mostly stoic or angry (though there are some emotional moments), but
most of the major cast, including Herrera and especially Lastimosa, project
their fear and angst well without it being cartoonish. Most of the action, once
Emon and Timoy get out of prison, is set in the apartment building (hence the [*REC]
reference), giving a feeling of grime, purposeful bad lighting (no electricity)
though easy to see for the viewer, and a sense of claustrophobia. The single
location helps with the budget, and I respect that, as well as “locks” the
viewer into the locale. The set design for these scenes is excellent.
So is the SFX, which uses great
prosthetics, and while there is some CGI, most of it is practical. For
those interested, like me, there is a lot of it spread throughout the film.
Technically, there are three acts, but each is ruthless.
While this is a relatively
serious film, there is some subtle humor that occasionally crops up, almost
like easter eggs, such as one zombie wearing a tee that says, “Vin Scully is my
homeboy”: baseball is huge in the Philippines. Also, as with most sidekicks, Timoy
is a bit of a comic relief, but hardly a stereotypical screw-up.
There is an underlying
premise that not all monsters are – er – monsters. While the band of survivors get
picked off one by one, there is also brutality brought by grief and anger. Who
needs to be infected to become violent when someone has lost a loved one? I
believe that characterization is a real side of humanity sometimes. It is not
really cynicism, if you just look around at the attitude of some televangelists
and members of the US Senate about the LGBTQ+ populations.
On a side note, I wonder
about films like this: if one can escape from the crowded apartment building,
in a heavily populated neighbourhood, how would one get away, even in a vehicle?
There are 114 million people living in the Philippines. Would it not be more
realistic to pull a The Mist (2007) in that situation (but have enough
ammo)? I would definitely want a quick out.
Once the action starts, which
is right at the beginning, it is rare that the action lets up. We see our main
group and others fight the transformed and infected. In a world where zombie
(relatively) films are a dime a dozen, even though there are some formulaic moments,
this is a good watch, full of action, violence, practical SFX, gore, and so
much more.
The House That Screamed (aka La Residencia; The Finishing School; House of
Evil) Directed
by Narciso Ibáñez Serrador J.F. Films de Distribución S.A.;
Regia-Arturo González Rodríguez;
American International Pictures (AIP); Arrow Video; MVD Visual
94 / 105 minutes, 1969 / 1971 / 2023 www.ArrowVideo.com www.MVDVisual.com
Spanish horror films from
the mid-1960 until the early 1980s tended to be a bit goofy as is their Mexican
cousins (see the Santos series), but sometimes they shined like this one, being
a cross between a British Hammer Film, an Italian giallo, and a bit of
the gruesomeness of Ilsa: She Wolf of the SS (1975); funny thing is,
many of these came out after this release.
There are two versions of
this film on the Blu-ray: the theatrical release (94 minutes), and an extended
one called The Finishing School. I chose to watch the longer one (105
minutes). As with many giallos, this has an international cast, such as
Prussia-born Lili Palmer (d. 1986), so some people seem to be speaking English
and others Spanish, but all are dubbed or redubbed into English. This gives all
the speaking parts a flat sound (rather than 3D), so people in front of the
camera sound the same as those further away. Unfortunately, there is a Spanish
option (again, dubbed and redubbed).
Mary Maude, Lili Palmer
Taking place in the
Victorian late 1800s in France, Mme. Fourneau (Palmer) strictly runs a boarding
school for girls in a huge, isolated, and chained-up mansion, which seems to
specialize in discipline and corporeal punishment. The feeling of this all has
the vibes of Suspira (1977) and Phenomena (1985), again, both of
which proceeded this film. Despite the size of the place, all the students
sleep barrack-style in one room. This gives the opportunity for the viewer to
see them all in underlaces, and even a corset.
Into this nearly prison
comes comely Térèsa (Cristina Galbó) – pronounced Teh-RAY-sah – who
is met excitedly by Fourneau’s student underling, thin and statuesque Irènée
(Mary Maude, in her first yet defining film) – pronounced I-rhe-NAY) who
is the school’s bully and has a killer smirk, among other traits that one might
expect in this kind of film. She has a thing for Térèsa
and is not afraid to hold her power over her as much as the rest of the girls
(they are supposed to be teens, so I will use the term “girls” freely).
Cristina Galbó
To add to the weirdness,
Fourneau’s teenage son, Luis (John Moulder-Brown) is sequestered in an upstairs
room (though sneaking out to peek on the students, but then again, who would
not?), though he has a budding relationship with student Isabelle (Maribel
Martin).
And
now, on occasion, there is the stabbing deaths. And yet, this double-dips and
is also a psychological thriller, between the bullying, the discipline, and the
occasional romps. Speaking of which, while there is no real nudity, there is a
group shower scene where the students wear white gowns under the water, making
them nearly translucent. I am assuming this has to do with the time period this
was filmed, and possibly different censorship laws in España.
Palmer, John Moulder-Brown
There
are a few surprises in here with the shifting of unexpected power dynamics and,
naturally, murders. The body count is not high, and there is blood but no gore
yet very ahead of its time, and yet the tension is usually held at quite an
elevated level.
Honestly, I am not sure how
much of this was filmed in a real location or studio, but it is stunning to
look at the architecture and décor. Also noteworthy are the cinematography and
editing. Even the lighting has a personality of its own. But just as noteworthy
is the orchestral score by Waldo de los Rios.
The smirk
The technical side of the
bonus material contains a brand new 2K restoration from the original negative,
a High Definition (1080p). The official extras start with an English commentary
by Spain-born film historian Anna Bogutaskaya. She explains the importance and influence of this film
in both Spain (the first to be created specifically for worldwide distribution)
and the international market, for example. What is also interesting, the discussion
is about the film and its meaning, especially regarding specific scenes, with
few anecdotes about, say, the actors involved. She talks about the director, and
his effect on both Spanish and wider filmmaking.
There are a few new
interviews. Starting off is “This Boy’s Innocence,” (24 min; in English) with
actor John Moulder-Brown, discussing his character, what he brought to it, and about
working with the director, Palmer, and Galbó. “All About My Mamá” (9 min; in Spanish with subtitles) features Juan
Tébar, who wrote the original novella (Serrador wrote the screenplay), discussing the relationship between Luis and
Fourneau. Surprisingly, as he mentions his influences, he does not mention Robert
Bloch.
“The Legacy of Terror” (14
min; in Spanish with subtitles), with the director's son, Alejandro Ibáñez (Serrador died in
2019). Despite being born more than a
decade after the film, Alejandro gives some nice insights on the director, and
the Spanish political environment into which it was released. Then there is “Screaming
the House Down” (20 min; in English), with Spanish horror expert Dr Antonio
Lázaro-Reboll, discussing the history of the film and its director. Most of
this has been covered by previous material. Also included is archive footage
with Mary Maud (12 min; in English) from the Festival of Fantastic Films in
2012, interviewed on stage by Adrian James, giving stories about the director,
how she got the role, and retells the entire plot.
With title cards to
explain what the viewer is watching, there are some alternative footage (6 min)
from the original Spanish theatrical version, some changed due to Spanish
censorship. But even more fascinating is seeing the difference between the pre-restoration
footage and this Arrow version. Along with five of the original trailers, TV
and radio spots, and an Image gallery, the Blu-ray has a reversible sleeve
featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Colin Murdoch.
Despite the red herrings,
I figured out the killer about halfway through, but that did not stop my
enjoyment of the piece because of the “why” of the murders, which was exceedingly
creepy and effective. Sure, it borrows a lot from the gothic Hammer milieu, but
it also helped inspire so much more that would come later, especially from
European cinema. It is just luscious.
Amber Road, for the purposes
of this film, is a Dark Web site where you can order drugs, food, and a host of
other things that are technically illegal. But it also has an audience that it
caters to who are interested in watching people being tortured and snuffed. Internet
torture for hire has been a common theme lately, with the likes of La PetiteMort (2009) and Death Count (2022),
among many. Like Hostel (2005), it is merely an excuse to push the
envelope on body horror, or what others may call torture porn.
This release is a bit stylized,
showing customers making requests (cameos by the likes of Tom Sizemore and
Robert LaSardo, both of whom were in the similarly themed Death Count)
on what will happen to the captives. And right off the bat, while the film
introduces the protagonists (see second paragraph down), it is inter-mixed with
scenes of torture, such as involving removal of fingers, which is nicely
intercut with someone cutting a hedge using shears: the mundane and the malevolence.
Rachel Riley
The first couple being
tortured during this intro, Mary (Janet Wang) and James (William McNamara), are
given a drug to paralyze them, but they can still feel the pain. My question
is, why are they bound to a chair, and why do they have ball gags in their
mouths if they are immobile (though they easily move their heads and facial expressions
do not seem to be affected by the drug)? The perilous mistress of distress is
Pauline (Rachel Riley), professionally a mortician we learn early on, who gets
pleasure from her “work.”
And speaking of work,
our main protagonist is police deputy Emma (Scream Queen Elissa Dowling), whose
husband – also a copper – was murdered, is being helped by her brother, Deke
(Jed Rowen); meanwhile the nasty Dark Web (sometimes here described as the Deep
Web) group is working on the married couple. At the early stage, the two stories
flash back and forth. You just know at some point in the storyline, the trains of
Emma and Aber Road will meet. But I am still on Act 1.
Elissa Dowling
Eventually, we get to
meet the police that are after the Webbers, led by Sherriff Taylor (Vernon
Wells), who has nothing to do with Mayberry, or perhaps it is Opie grown up? Yes,
there are lots of cameos throughout the film.
When the big reveal
comes at the start of Act 3, it will either surprise the hell outta ya, or you
will have seen it coming a mile away (I was somewhere between the two). My only
issue is I think they gave away the gravy a bit too early in the telling.
The torture parts are
actually spaced pretty far apart in the storyline, with lots of dialogue in-between.
Do not get me wrong, what we see is gruesome, but I get the feeling some
gorehounds are going to get a bit restless. Not only does the gore increase in
the third act, but they find places to hurt that I have not seen before, which
is – er – refreshing, in an imaginative way.
Jed Rowen
The acting here is
great for a low-budgeter, but it is important to remember that most of the cast
each has a long history in cinema, so that is hardly surprising. While Dowling
is the de facto lead actor (i.e., not cameo), this is totally Riley’s film, as
she has the most screen time, and her character is so germane to the violence
that occurs.
The effects look good
and gross, but I do wish there had been a bit more of it. Sure, it is effective
and gooey as bits are snipped away, but there is long gaps between, even if the
practical SFX works.
Throughout the film,
they employ either a dark filter, or color correction in post-production, which
gives the visuals a mostly bluish haze that seems unnecessary. Well, not to
this extent, anyway. I understand the practical SFX may look better if it is
harder to see, but it gets tiresome after a while, and is employed by too many
films these days.
It feels like there is
a lot of overlap with the films by Michael Su (who directed Death Count),
and those put out by the Cinema Epoch/CineRidge Entertainment group. It is a
mix of many of the same actors of the former and style of the latter, which
combine to make a low-budget film that is interesting on many levels. It is
good to see all these legends in the same film, though none interact together
(again, one-day-work cameos), but most seem to be on Zoom, which makes sense in
the story. More than a plot of sheer malevolence for the sake of malevolence,
this is a tale of greed above all else, even more than, say, revenge.
For reasons I have
stated above, this is a between-the-cracks film, in that it may be too mild for
the gorehounds and to extreme for the average viewer. But the story works, and
in my humble opinion, that is what makes it watchable.
Vancouver-based
director Ryan Nicholson left quite a legacy before he passed on in 2019,
including Gutterballs (2008), Collar (2014; reviewed HERE), and this little gem that I have heard of
but had never seen. Now it’s out in a two-disk Blu-ray.
Nicholson was known
for his extreme version of cinema, with violence, gore, sex and lots and lots
of other nastiness. His films are not for the weak of heart, and this one
certainly lives up to the legend that has followed it.
Right from the start,
we meet very pregnant prostitute Rose (the ever amazing and brave performer,
Debbie Rochon; there are definitely aspect of the opening that are a nod to her
history with Troma, such as a television in the motel room playing 1986’s Class
of Nuke ‘Em High, and Lloyd Kaufman has a cameo as a “tranny,” which is how
it is listed in the credits). Rose’s violent pimp, Leroy (Ronald Patrick Thompson,
the only black actor in the cast with dialogue, is a vicious pimp; that’s all I’m
sayin’) not only wants her to keep making money, but also demands she get rid
of her baby through despicable means, despite it being close to popping.
Debbie Rochon
Her time is close, so
the pimp decides to take things into his own closet, the new Texas style of
abortion in what is definitely an extremely cringey scene that most, especially
women, are bound to turn their heads. If I may digress, I used to work in a
movie theater, and whenever any man got kicked in the gonads on-screen, you
would hear a collective and deep “Oof” by the men in the audience, followed by
giggling in higher, female voices. Nearly every time. This is kind of the
reverse of that.
Somehow, the baby
survives this assault with many lacerations to the face, teeth like Belial in Basket
Case (1982), and a not-fully-developed brain. He is thrown out to be
brought up by a homeless man (director Nicholson), and is named Hanger (Nathan
Dashwood), a nod to his method of birth. When he hits 18, he’s put on the
street and given a job in a junk yard’s recycling yard by a creepy, monotone
guy who had a thing for Rose called The John (Dan Ellis, really standing out in
the acting department). Actually, this is true in Canada – where this is filmed
– that people with disabilities work in recycling centers. However, rather than
those who have mental disabilities or Down Syndrome, the people in this film
(of course) are not only mentally and physically handicapped, they’re also
degenerates.
Dan Ellis
Tall and lanky Hanger
is matched up as roommates with beer and porn obsessed co-worker Russell (Wade
Gibb, a white guy playing an Asian character, who seems to ad lib a lot to
great effect). Soon we see Hanger’s innate lust for violence and a bit of
cannibalism come to the front, which makes him a perfect vehicle for revenge
against Leroy and others. Hanger is directed by the John towards getting even
for his mama.
There is a lot to digest
in this film, all of it stuff you may want to puke out at some point, be it
tampon tea, GHB sex with colostomy holes, the infamous abortion scene,
and…well, let’s just leave it there for now, shall we?
There are also a ton
of facial prosthetics that are used (by Michelle Grady) on nearly every male in
the story, making everyone look as warped as the storyline, including sores,
pimples, an amazing nose on the John that seems right out of Sin City (2005).
And like Sin City, the look of the film is quite unique and, well, dirty
looking, with some phenomenal lighting, silhouetting, and angles that work with
the prosthetics to make them look even more fantastical (by cinematographer and
editor Jay Gavin, his first time for both).
This can only be
described as extreme cinema, though the word transgressive comes to mind.
Blood, gore, violence, coarse language including the use of the N-word, and
abnormal sex are the theme, which is right up where Nicholson wanted it to be.
This is the kind of film he loves to watch, and as he explained in the
commentary, he makes his films for himself, not for the fans, of which there
are rightfully many, even though it is a niche market.
Nathan Dashwood, Wade Gibb
The gore is plentiful,
which is no surprise, the makeup is as extreme as the violence, and the women
are quite beautiful, with standouts being a junkyard admin assistant named
Nicole (Candice Le, aka Candice Lewad) who likes to show a lot of cleavage and
pleasure herself in explicit ways, a full-lipped prostitute named Trashy (Stephanie
Walker), and of course there is Ms. Rochon, in an extended cameo. Women are
pretty secondary to the story, which focuses more on Hanger, The John, Leroy
and odd Russell.
Being a 2-disc special
Blu-ray release, let’s take a look at the hours upon hours of extras. First up
is a Triple-X version of the film. Call me crazy, but I watched it and the
regular, and I did not see a difference. It’s pretty hardcore anyway. There is
also a full-length commentary by the director, Ryan Nicholson, completed for
the DVD release in 2010, which he manages to remain interesting throughout.
Most of the extras were filmed during this period.
Next up is “Behind the
Stoma: The Making and Taking of Hanger” (20 min.). In case you don’t
know, a stoma is “an artificial opening made into a hollow organ” (thank you
Wikipedia). This is a really well shot collection of interviews with the
director and some of the cast, mixed with behind-the-scenes clips. Generally,
it was quite engaging, with everything being long enough to get a grip on it,
but short enough not to overstay its welcome. Other films’ Makings Of
featurettes could use this as a model. This is followed by another “Making Of”
featurette (26 min). It’s a rehearsal with Nicholson working through the
introduction to Leroy scene with the cast, including Rochon. While fun to
watch, I don’t think I would turn it on again, though I was happy to have seen
it once.
Ronald Patrick Thompson
“Taking of Hanger, Enough Dope to Hang
Yourself With: On the Stet with Lloyd Kaufman” (12 min.). If Kaufman is there
on set, one should always do a featurette with this film legend and ad lib maven.
Most of the footage here was shot by Kaufman himself, and then the camera is
handed off to Ryan’s (adult) son for Lloyd’s “Melvina the Tranny” scenes. It’s
a funny, unusual behind the scenes, but what else would you expect from
Kaufman? His friendship with Rochon, whose career turned a corner in his films,
is evident and smile-worthy.
The “Blooper Reel” (2
min.), “Deleted Scenes” (6 min.), which is also a blooper reel, and Additional
Scenes” (20 min.), which is more of a behind the scenes kind of deal, could all
have been combined into one 28-minute piece. Nothing very special. Again, glad
I saw it, but would probably not watch again
“Black on White Bred”
(3 min.) is the film within the film of the porno (hard “R”) that stars Hanger’s
mom Rose and Leroy, including the money shot. Don’t really know what more to
say about this, except Rochon is definitely one to give for her art.
Gibb
The second disc is “The
Raw Tapes, Volume 1” through “Volume 5”. These are the raw footage and can be
seen as almost a Master’s Class in indie filmmaking. Each one of these five are
on average 3 hours long, Honestly, no, I did not sit through all of them, but I
did some zooming around. I have a life, as there are over 18 hours of extras in
total. Maybe one day I will come back to these.
There is a photo
gallery, and the usual sound and chapter choices on the first disk. Even with
the “everything but the kitchen sink” mentality, the only thing missing was English
subtitles for those of us with a bit of a hearing thing (too much seeing the
Ramones, Johnny Thunders’ Heartbreakers, etc., in small clubs and loud volume).
Sometimes I wonder
where Nicholson, who also did make-up for some very major releases, would have
gone in his directorial career if he had not succumbed to brain cancer before
the age of 40. Gratefully, he is being appreciated after the fact.
There are
certain people who just look like their signature roles, whether it fits their
personality or not. Sly Stallone was so popular in Rocky because he looked and sounded the part, even though he is
quite intelligent. Vincent
Schiavelli (d. 2005), the angry subway car spirit in Ghost (1990) similarly was so memorable because his face fit that
role. For Maniac, we get the
underrated Joe Spinell (d. 1989) in the portrayal of his lifetime that will
always be associated with him as a badge of honor.
Spinell plays Frank Zito, an artist
who grew up with an abusive mother, and now has issues with women in that he
feels compelled to do them brutal harm. Being schizophrenic a la Norman Bates, he hears his mother’s
voice even though she’s passed on, but normally his bicameral mind as far as we
the audience hear it, it’s his own. He argues with himself that he doesn’t want
to be doing these gruesome murders, but he comprehends it as being obliged, or to
be punished.
As for the kills, well they are so
beautifully done by Tom Savini, and so severe that Savini himself believes he
went a bit too far. Perhaps that may be somewhat true in the American market by
1981 standards, but not today’s world of torture and body mutilation releases. Savini,
who was a medic in a war zone, was familiar with how the body works in
bloodletting situations, and used that to become the top of his field of blood
and gore at that time.
A chunk of the money that was used to
make the film came from the director, who made some pretty pesos in the adult
industry, giving him the opportunity to cast extras from that genre. Some are
easily recognizable to those of that generation, such as Sharon Mitchell and Abigail
Clayton (billed as Gail Lawrence).
There are actually three stars in the
film. Of course, there’s Spinell; as the female lead is the beautiful British
actress Caroline Munro who plays a photographer, having gotten the role through
her producer husband at the time that came up with the largest chunk of backing
cash. While Munro is totally fine in the role and lovely to look at, it’s hard
to imagine her photographer character being attracted to Brooklynite and
shlubby Frank. She is so beyond his league. Of course, the discussion is
whether she is actually gay or bi-, and theirs is only a friendship to her.
The third star of the film is the
city of New York at that time, when subways were graffiti bound, the street
lights were dimmer, and the skyline was as beautiful as ever. Like Taxi Driver (1976) and They Might Be Giants (1971), the
simmering city is intricately connected to the actions and becomes its own
character.
The film has pretty much aged okay,
though in moments it feels kind of hackney as far as the story goes. The kills,
however, are as stunning today as they were back then, and for that alone is
worth the watch, especially in this restored 4K presentation, taken from a recently
uncovered 16mm original camera negative. Lustig is known for making crime films
that were on the odd side of the B-film scale, such as Vigilante (1982) and the Maniac
Cop trilogy (1988-93), but this may be his finest work, overall. He was 24
years old at the time.
This three-disc set is just loaded
with extras, which I will get to now. It is a mixture of new material and some
from a previous, non-HD re-release from 2010. The first thing I want to
talk about is the languages and captions. There are multiple languages
available: English, Spanish, French, Italian and German. Captions can be in English
SDH, French, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Italian, Danish, Finnish, Dutch,
Swedish, Russian, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and Thai, but as I only speak one
(not counting Brooklynese, in which much of the film is dripping wet), I went
for the English.
For the
first Blu-ray disc, there are two audio commentaries. The first is with producer/director William Lustig and
producer Andrew W. Garroni. It’s actually nearly perfect in that they tell
stories about the production, the actors, the distribution, the guerilla
filmmaking, and how it was a joint contribution between everyone. There is no
idle banter, it’s all relevant to the making of the film, and they keep it
going. For the second Audio Commentary, again with Producer/Director Lustig, we
get to hear Special Make-Up Effects Artist Tom Savini, Editor Lorenzo
Marinelli, and Joe Spinell's Assistant (friend) Luke Walter. There is a little
bit of repetition from the first commentary, but enough new stuff to keep it
nearly as interesting, though there are some gaps of quiet here and there. Most
importantly, though, they almost never talk over each other, giving us a chance
to hear what everyone is saying. The voices are so different (i.e., level of
New York accents) that it’s easy to identify who is who, a problem I often have
with multiple person commentaries. Besides, it was enjoyable watching Savini
talk about his head blowing up real good.
Disc one finished with seven theatrical
trailers, nine TV spots and four radio spots. Disc two is broken down into
three categories starting with Featurettes, most of which are from the 2010
rerelease, though some are brand new. It begins with the 19 minute “Maniac Outtakes.” The footage is not
only of interest, but is overdubbed by a commentary by director Lustig. I like
seeing the old footage of New York, such as 42nd Street. Following is “Returning
to the Scene of the Crime with William Lustig.” For 8 minutes, Lustig discusses
the differences between the shoot locations in 1979 and now. The videos comparing
of then and now shots is fascinating.
“Anna and the Killer with Caroline
Munro,” covers her career from before Maniac
and into the film in 13 minutes. “The Death Dealer with Tom Savini,” is an interview
with the Special Make-Up Effects Artist, who has always been a great conversationalist,
so his stories are fun for the entire 12 minutes. “Dark Notes with Jay
Chattaway” discusses composing of the eerie, yet beautiful background music for
12 minutes.
I was looking forward to the 11
minute “Maniac Men - Interview with Songwriters Michael Sembello and Dennis
Matkosky,” who are questioned by Lustig. The rumor had been going around that
the song “Maniac” from Flashdance was
originally supposed to be in Maniac, with
different lyrics {“He’s a maniac… / And he’ll nail your cat to the door”), as
Sembello was a horror fan. This lively interview clears it up once and for all.
The star of Maniac, Spinell(d. 1989),was known as a party animal, even being married to a porn star for
a while, appearing in major films like The
Godfather and Rocky, but he was
also a horror fan. Naturally, there should be a featurette documentary on his life,
as there is here with “The Joe Spinell Story.” This is a special production
from 2001 that covers Spinelli’s life and has lots of good stories told by some
heavy hitters, such as Jason Miller (d. 2001), Robert Forester, and of course
the director of Maniac, Lustig. For
49 minutes, we are regaled on what it was like to know Spinell, and depending
on the period of his too brief life and how inebriated he was as the time, it
could be heaven or hell.
The last featurette in this section
is an 8-minute “Mr. Robbie: Maniac 2
Promo Reel.” This was supposed to be a sequel to the first Maniac with a different director, but was not completed due to
Spinell’s death at age 52. It’s grainy but looks a bit wack, though the gore
looks good.
In the publicity section, there’s
“Paul Wunder,” an 18 minute radio interview with Lustig, Spinell and Munro on
WBAI-NY. The sound quality varies widely, but still interesting. Then “William
Lustig on ‘Movie Madness,’” a cable access show in black and white that’s a bit
more interesting as various people phone in and ask some wild questions for 47
minutes. I miss Manhattan Cable Access, and this is a good reason why. Lasting
about 1 minute we see a brief interview with “Joe Spinell at Cannes.” What’s
more fun is the 13-minute “Joe Spinell on ‘The Joe Franklin Show’,” in 1981. If
you grew up in New York and watched Franklin, you know what you’re dealing
with. Franklin (d. 2015) is a cult figure that bands like the Ramones and the
Dictators hung out with as well as Broadway actors, ventriloquists and
psychics.
“Caroline Munro TV Interview” is with
NBC New York’s Chuck Scarborough and the awful Katie Kelly (worst film reviewer
ever; d. 2018) in New York at 3 minutes. Of course, next up is “Barf Bag Review
Policy,” Kelly’s on-air review of Maniac.
Man, this woman is terrible at her job, and not just because she pans the
film. She generally had really bad taste, and in 2 minutes she disses the film
and says absolutely nothing. The 23 minute “Grindhouse Film Festival Q&A,”
which was shot recently enough to mention the Elliot Spitzer scandal, features
Lustig, producer Garroni and actress/doctor Sharon Mitchell. They discuss the
film (duh) and working with Spinell. Good stuff. This section ends with a 120+ Still
and Poster Gallery of film shots, behind the scenes, and, well, posters.
Next section is “Controversy.” I knew
this was going to be fun and shrill, and I will comment more on that near the
end of the review. It is broken down into sections, the first being “Los
Angeles,” where we see newscasts against the film in 1981 on “Channel 7 News”
(Ann Martin), “Channel 11 News” (Judi Bloom), and “NBC Tomorrow Coast to Coast”
(Rona Barrett).
For “Chicago,” we see a newscast by
Gene Siskel (d. 1999) on CBS News. He hated the movie, so what he says is no surprise,
referring to it as part of a “women in danger films.” In “Philadelphia,” there
are reports from Channel 10 News, two from Channel 3 News, and Channel 6 Action
News. Under the banner of the “Newsbeat” television show, we have “Violent
Movies” (13 minutes) and “Movie Violence” (21 minutes; the titles made me
laugh), which discusses the “effect” of violence in films on its audience.
The next two actually took me by surprise
as we watch Al Goldstein (d. 2013) rant and rave against violent films and
mutilates a sex doll on his cable access show, “Midnight Blue.” I thought he
was a First Amendment proponent, and the fact that Maniac has porn actresses throughout should have been a positive
for him, considering the nature of the show. Last in this section is titled “Gallery
of Outrage,” which shows pull-out quotes from reviews that are, well let’s say
unfavorable. This includes a letter from the film board of the Philippines,
turning it down for distribution.
The last two bonuses are big ones.
First there is a full CD of the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Jay
Chattaway. Lastly, there is a nicely written and designed thick booklet with a new
essay by Michael Gingold, former Editor-in-Chief of Fangoria Magazine.
There have been a lot of charges of
sexism against Maniac, as Zito is
what is now called an incel, and
strikes back at women who he identifies with his malevolent deceased mother.
But some of the most violent kills in the film, which include garrotting and a
shot gun shooting, are done to men, as well.
Either way, the film was considered
quite successful for an indie release. Its budget was estimated at $350,000,
and earned more than $6 million in the US, alone. The fact that it’s still
being rereleased almost 40 years later shows its power. And with literally
hours of extras, this one is of particular interest; yes, I sat through all of
it; it took about a week.
Grossly speaking (pun unintended), independent cinema is usually represented in three genres: first is the documentary, and these are usually high class and low cost (e.g., Michael Moore’s stuff, and so many others worth watching); second is comedy, and those are usually Porky’s level fart jokes and mostly a waste of time; and lastly is horror, which runs from astoundingly good (e.g., The Evil Dead series, Re-Animator) to just plain unwatchable (too many to mention).
However, I would rather watch the horror indies more often than the majors, because the larger studios have so much to lose and tend to take themselves waaaay too seriously, whereas the indies tend to have a clear head about who they are and what they are doing. Usually their products are done on the fly, with limited budgets and effects that are more wha? than whoa! (if I am making any sense at all).
The plurality of this release’s title is reflected in the four short films that make up the bulk of the DVD, organized by Henrique Couto. All the directors, producers, and other cast / staff either share each other’s services, or are friends.
First up is “Blood Witch” (written and directed by Andrew Shearer), which I believe is the most nuanced of the four pieces, as far as characters are concerned. Essentially a witch is murdered centuries ago in Spain, and now she has been called back by a goth Satanist-wannabe / sadist-lite who doesn’t truly know what she is doing. The moral question of who of many of the characters are actually evil (including a telemarketer) is a key element here. Countess Samela (referred in the bonus material as “Sam”; this is her only credit on IMDB) plays the wannabe with a churlish grin, even as she is bathing. Monica Puller, as the title character Isabella (other credits include Satan’s House of Yoga, Cannibal Sisters, and Psycho Vixens), plays her role with just the right touch of pathos. The gore effects are effective and not overdone, and the writing is in "The Twilight Zone" morality story mode. A quick shout out to a great nom de acting, Priscilla Lee Press-On; yes, that is her name, not the character.
The second short is “Mike Wuz Here” (produced, edited and directed by Justin Channell), about a not-too-bright ghost named Mike (T.J. Rogers, whose credits include Die and Let Live - that is not a typo) who is haunting the cinema where he was fired, and then hanged himself. The slacker staff know him both when he was a person, and now as a ghost. A new manager is hired (after Mike’s spirit did away with the old one), who is put in charge of this bunch of losers. He decides that he wants Mike out because he is scaring off patrons, hence the theater is losing money. When he tries to “fire” Mike, the spirit enters his body and he starts to do away with the other staff members who agreed he – as a ghost – should be let go. A bit gruesome, of course, but more funny (intentionally) than anything else, such as one usher being tortured by being forced to watch Step Up 3 (his comments are hilarious). This short definitely has its fine moments.
The third was my least favorite of the four, “One Foot in the Grave” (directed by Chris LaMartina), about a dancer played by Sara Cole (other credits are Dead Hunt and Almost Invisible), who loses her foot due to a doctor’s negligence. She seeks revenge via the local witchy woman, Virginia Frank (credits include Grave Mistake), who is actually in cahoots with the slimy doctor (no secret there), portrayed by George Stover (whose awesome credits include a number of early John Water’s films, as well as the likes of Attack of the ’60 Centerfolds, Sleepy Hollow High and Ninjas vs. Vampires). To show you the level of writing here, the foot doctor’s name is – wait for it – Dr. Sholes. Yep, it’s that desperate.
The main tale is saved for last, which is “Slay Ride” (produced and directed by Henrique Couto, who put the whole collection together). The central character, as a spoiled goth girl, is DVD covergirl Ruby LaRocca (who has an impressive list of over 50 credits in 10 years, including Satan’s School for Lust, Spiderbabe, Dr. Horror’s Erotic House of Idiots, Bikini Girls on Dinosaur Planet, An Erotic Werewolf in London, The Lord of the G-String: The Femaleship of the String, Batbabe: The Dark Nightie, and, well you get the idea). She’s the kind who pierces her nipples without anesthetic (we get to see that, even though it’s an effect), while her parents are walking out the door for the weekend. Seems, of course, there’s a killer on the loose, ready to strike her and/or her hyper schoolmate, Debbie (Sandy Behre; only credit). Could it be the guy with the chainsaw next door (a fine turn by the director)? Santa? Who knows, though I figured it out somewhere along the way. Nice effects here, and as with just about the entire film, done with appliances rather than CGI.
And then there is the wraparounds, presented with glee by the hostess with the fangs, Slutpira, a really nice turn by Izzie Harlow, who jumps in and out of character a la Uncle Floyd, to make sarcastic comments like, “Oh great, another title that’s a pun.” Despite the lengthy fangs they give her, she manages to talk normally, and has a really fine sense of timing. I looked forward to her bits of intro and outro of the short films. Kudos.
There are a lot of bonus features, some good, some whatever. The commentary track is cool, because each segment has its own director, writer, actor, whomever, including the wrap-arounds, so we hear from the – err – minds of each creator on their own pieces. Nice touch. The outtakes and bloopers were mostly fun, though some went on too long, and the music video was, well, tiring. The two clips that seemed way too long were of the premiere night (including lots of footage of “the gang” hanging out and getting drunk before, and hanging around in the lobby of the theater (the one from “Mike Wuz Here”) before and after the showing. There is also a looooong bit revolving around a horror convention that seemed to never end and have no point other than for them to have yet another reason to get drunk.
So skipping most of the extras, I would say this meets the indie needs of a low budget, DIY horror comp, and I actually look forward to seeing more of their work.
This review was originally published in FFanzeen.blogspot.com
