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.
When you are as prolific
a filmmaker as James Balsamo, what is one to do during a global pandemic? Well,
all those films he worked on, all those conventions he’s attended, and those
cameos he coerced (via kindness) from other actors, filmmakers, and musicians,
can come in handy.
There must be tons of
footage from his films that have been excised for time, or just short bits,
laying around the house, figurately speaking (since they’re on a computer), so
zipping together a menagerie of clips from previous films and other works
surely is a good way to keep Satan away from those idle hands.
Balsamo, who if you’re
not familiar with his work – and you should be – falls into a subgenre of
directors/actors that use the medium with themselves as the focal point, and
all hell goes on around them in a charming, yet amateurish way, that is genuinely
endearing, albeit based on some incredibly adolescent humor (such as Bill Zebub).
Version Deux here has some
commonalities with the first Mind Melters (2019), but there is one
glaring difference that I think puts this above the introductory release, and
that is a level of cohesion. Mind Melters was kind of a mixed-up
mish-mash of little, unconnected bits, mostly, and thereby a bit inconsistent;
not bad, just more stream-of-consciousness, kinda. Here, the separation is more
flowing and straightforward in a series of short films rather than just “bits.”
For example, it starts
off with the short, “Lunch Meeting,” where a bunch of middle aged male
executives each have their own fantasies about someone trying out for the Administrative
Assistant position. Hilarity and nudity abound.
There is a bit a
lunacy as well, or one might think of it more as surrealistic, such as the
short “Vampire Laundry Machine,” where a vampire’s bite turns a washer/dryer
combo into, well, you know.
This is followed by a
series of shorts of people talking into the camera, sort of like professional
wrestlers, be it a pair of vampires (in front of said washer/dryer), or a very
strange and extended bit with heavy curtain chewing by Craig Muckler (of 1979’s
Microwave Massacre), holding a large bat stuffy down by some river and
waterfall, after being interviewed by a reporter cleverly named Lewis N. Clark
(Bob Cummings). These latter two pick up again a couple of times later as the
same characters, but this time discussing a snake (feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl)
and then with a giant spider (puppet). Shot in the woods, the best part is the
guy in the background who is cleaning off the trail, not sure what was going on
in the foreground. Just pitch perfect for an off-the-wall bit, raising it to a
higher level of laughter. Then there is the Andy Kaufmann effect: was that guy
real, or a planted actor? I’m not sure I even want to know.
James Balsamo
While it’s obvious that
Balsamo likes to be the center of attention (and I have no issue with that), some
of the fine moments is when he lets other people just go off. For example, next
up – and bits are shown throughout the film – is the centerpiece where Balsamo
interviews cult filmmaker Ted Nicolaou (including 1988’s TerrorVision
and the Full Moon Subspecies franchise, which started in 1991 and
continues). It was originally done for Mad Monster Radio, and there’s lots of
tidbits about filmmaking. In another bit later, during “James Quall Sings,” he
lets the comic do a full, original song, “I’m Still Stamping” –
that’s what it sounds like, anyway – which is quite bemusing.
One of my favorites is
“Creature of Science,” which starts off slow, with a mutant pooch that kills a
group of people, one in an especially sensitive moment; actor and vlogger Shawn
C. Phillips is hysterical as the amateur scientist doing his own podcast about
warning people to not try his “giant dog” experiment.
Another completely
ridiculous and WTF short is “Johnny De Dead,” dealing with jealousy, the
afterlife, and “ghost sex.” It lasts a good couple of minutes, but that’s also
probably how long I laughed at it after, for it’s sheer ridiculousness. Left me
smiling.
TITAN
Balsamo shows a bit of
his artistic side with a full music video for black metal (death metal? I’m a
punk rocker, so the subtleties of this genre escape me) band TITAN, which
consists of a vocalist/guitarist and a drummer. It’s filled with satanic imagery
and ritual (and a nice cameo by the director). The song, “Abramelin,” pounds
away as a good black/death metal ditty should.
If you like animation,
there a bit of that two, including the theme song to “The Glork Show,”
featuring an alien who becomes a talk show host, and a full episode cartoon featuring
Fester Fish (Aaron Long Productions, 2012) titled “Fester Makes Friends.”
Many of the usual
Balsamo regulars are not here for this release, but don’t be alarmed, there are
a few, such as a clip with the late, great Dave Brockie (aka Oderus Urungus, of
Gwar; d. 2014), Dan E. Danger, Billy Walsh, who appears at least three times,
and Balsamo’s dog Alf (not to be confused with the “big dog” experiment.
I actually had quite a
bit of fun with this, and because it was more cohesive than the first, I
probably liked it even better than the first Mind Melters. The only thing
I would have added would have been some captioning for the Nicolaou interview, because
due to circumstances that is life, the master sound recording was lost and it
is using the camera mic, which makes it a bit hard to hear in spots.
If you’re a Balsamo
fan, like gonzo filmmaking, lots of variety and lunacy, and looking at nude women,
you really can’t go completely wrong here.
James Balsamo films are the manifestations of a Joke-of-the-Day desk
calendar, mixed with a copy of a B-level People
magazine, with a splash of Penthouse.
All that’s missing is the Pez dispenser. In other words, his end result is a somewhat
consistent hot mess of gooey fun.
James Balsamo
As always, Balsamo is the star of his own film, in this case playing a
petty thief named Vinnie. But let’s be real, like any Abbott and Costello
release (among many), he essentially plays the same character with different
names and situations. In a previous one, he was a rich guy about to lose his
money, and yet in another, a cop. But in each case, they are essentially the
same guy: sloppy, snarky, and horny and often clad in shorts. So as the immortal
question is paraphrased, “Why is this film different from any other film?” The
easy answer is that it’s not. And I don’t have a problem with that.
As for the titular Litch (or the alternative spelling of Lich), it is “the
Old English word for Corpse,” according to Wikipedia, and in literature refers
to a magical being who controls others to do his bidding (this is my shorthand
version). The Urban Legend website states it is a “spellcaster that has
magically increased [its] lifespan to the point of becoming undead.” In other
words, a soul eater who not a nice creature. And Vinnie is about to find out
just how nasty it can be.
Before the film even
starts, Vinnie has stolen a crystal from some mystical shoppe, and now the
Litch is after his ass, taking over the bodies of those around him, including a
friend (Mickey) and girlfriend’s (Mallory, I kid you not), mid-hump.
Thankfully, there’s a flashback (narrated by Vinnie) of the origin of the
creature in its present form (I’m guessing the 17th Century?), as well as the
previous week leading up to Vinnie stealing the Litch’s crystal.
Dave Stein as the Litch
Along with the story,
there is a lot of fun filler, and I really don’t know what other word to use to
describe it: for example, while playing with his dog we see clips from
commercials and television shows (including a couple featuring Balsamo’s real parents
and brother, and others with cameos, which I’ll get to later), and stuff like
that; another is shots of Balsamo doing whatever (such as standing in a park)
while he waxes pun-etic on the narration.
I may have said this
before, and odds are hopefully I’ll get to opportunity to say it again, there are
certain approaches one must take when watching a Balsamo flick, such as not
only one must have a suspension of disbelief, you really have to just say fuck it and strap yourself in for the
ride. If you start asking questions, well, you’re watching the wrong film. Second,
you really must bring out your teenage self, with all the belching, topless
women, and bodily fluids that run amok and often fill the screen. The plots are
held together with scotch tape and filler and those cameos (which I will still
get to), but again, this isn’t trying to be Schindler’s
List. Hell, he’s not even trying to be a second-rate director who is trying
to be a serious artiste like Judd
Aptow (showing my personal taste here a bit). Balsamo’s output is an indie
genre all to itself that is almost ridiculous to the point of, “well, fuck reality,
I’m going just on the ride and having fun.” That is why his films work so well.
But the thing is, you
see, there is a smartness below the sur… well, I’m not sure I can even get away
with that. This is Balsamo being Balsamo, and we’re all the lucky for it,
because it’s stupid as Trump and thrice as fun. Unlike most films these days
that actually seem to start being interesting 20 minutes after the prologue(s),
this one keeps going right on through, even with the filler which contributes
little to the story, but also adds to amusing time.
So poor small time
thief Vinnie has the crystal and, like the red ruby slippers, the Litch can’t
touch him directly, so he turns the Vinnster’s friends, family and acquaintances
into ghoulish creatures that are hellbent to cover Vinnie in every possible
kind of slimy upper-half bodily fluid. Think of a very gross Nickelodeon.
Speaking of which,
the effects are a very, very nice mix of gross, cheesy and effective.
Decapitations, brains pulled out of heads, and so much more, all guaranteed to
give the viewer the glees, with the right mindset, aka the right mindset, in my opinion.
The Litch is dressed
like a Vinnie Price in Witchfinder
General (1968), and tells puns that make Freddie Kruger’s sound like Schopenhauer.
There are some genuinely funny moments, such as Vinnie’s encounter with a mob
enforcer named Sven (Eben McGarr), or the exchange between a magician, Adequate
Levi, and his assistant. Melody Peng has a nice moment near the end, as well.
These are just a trio of many examples.
Terra Strong, EG Daily, James Balsamo
As I was promising,
let’s discuss cameos. Yeah, I know, I talk about this during every Balsamo
review, but it’s worth revisiting. Most indie films have a couple of big cameos
in their films, who get top billing for their couple of hours work. Amateurs,
compared to Balsamo. The film can barely go 5 minutes without a cameo by an
actor, death metal musician, or a comic magician; sometimes they play themselves,
sometimes characters, but in most (but not all) cases, they’re on screen for
about a minute on average. Many times it’s obvious that Balsamo shoots the footage
and then figures out where to put them into the film later. What I especially
find amusing is that one of Balsamo’s shticks is to have them really insult him
and/or physically abuse him. Here – and this is only the tip of the list – we
have the likes of Tom Sizemore, the Amazing Jonathan, still lovely and still
diminutive Elizabeth Daily (aka EG Daily, e.g., 1984’s Streets of Fire), Dick Warlock (The Shape in Halloween II and III; and was also in Blazing Saddles), fire-eating Scream Queen Debra Lamb, more recent
Scream Queen and budding director Genoveva Rossi, and of course the
irrepressible Lloyd Kaufman.
My only real major
complaint after all that? Not enough Frank Mullen, as he’s an East Coast guy
and Balsamo (and bro) are relatively recent ex-pats to the West Coast. You’d
have to see previous Balsamo films to get why, and you should.
The ending was certainly not what I was expecting, which is a good thing.
Is it silly and ridiculous? Yeah, but it works in the story, and if you think
you have it all figured out, you may be surprised. And stick around for after
the credits,
When
he isn’t making comedy/horror films like The
Worst Horror Film Ever Made: The Re-Make (2008) and ZombieChrist (2010), New Jersey-based director Bill Zebub makes
metal-related documentaries.
Now,
his docs are not your typical talking heads’ “What got you into metal?” kind of
deal, his questions are from left field and catch the bands off guard, even
though they obviously know him from past experiences.
One
of the more interesting aspects of this is trying to guess whether the bands
are going to get really pissed off at the audacity, or laugh really hard at the
moxy. To me, which side the band falls on tells a lot. If you’ve seen any of
Zebub’s large canon of work, both fiction and non-, he is an instigator. He
likes to get a rise out his audience, but also from whomever he’s talking to at
that moment, including his cast and crew. Well, that he uses the word
“retardation” in the title shows he is a gladiator against what he deems as PC, which also includes words that are
both gender and racially sensitive, and bandy them around. Y’gotta love him or
hate him for that.
The original Metal Retardation was
first released in 2009, and there have been four in total now. So, I’m
going to admit right at the onset that I don’t know crap about death metal or
its cousins. I’m first wave punk, and the closest I come is liking bands like
Adrenolin OD (saw them play a couple of times in the ‘80s), Chesty Malone and
the Slice ‘Em Ups (saw them a few times, too, but more recently) and arguably
the Ramones (who I probably saw easily more than a dozen times between 1975 and
1980. So how will I approach this DVD? Well, sort of the same way I handle
going to professional sports games, which I apparently know more about through
cultural osmosis than enjoy following any particular team. I’ll be looking at
it for the surroundings, the tone, the personalities, and how it all falls
together.
The
joyfully lopsided ride begins with an extended interview with drummer Fenriz,
of Darkthrone. It takes place at 2:30 AM when both he and the interviewer are
drunk. It’s a fun, rambling mess. I did laugh when he put on some vinyl of “Rock’n’Roll
Gas Station.”
There
are many bands interviewed here, such as Alestorm, Arch Enemy, Arkona, Borgir, Dimmu,
Enslaved, Ensiferum, Enthroned, Huntress, King Diamond, Kreator, Primordial, Septic
Flesh, Tyr, and Voivod.
The
humor level definitely runs from deft to daft. For example of the former, after
someone asks Voivod about their influences, Bill interrupts and asks the band,
“How original are questions about your influences?” As for the latter, he asks Sharlee
D’Angelo of Arch Enemy, “How important is penis size to a Scandinavian?” In the
first case, the band found the question very enjoyable with a knowing laugh,
with the second, he seemed kind of confused.
Bebub
is helped along the way by a few interviewers such as Layla (if I got the name
correct), a metal fan who usually asks some decent questions along the way, but
is not afraid to put her own sense in, or to ask questions that has some bands
scratching their heads (e.g., about pirates). She is a good yin to Bill’s yang
as he handles the camera, because his questions are totally out there, such as asking
what someone will wear for Halloween, or inquiring Jill Janus of Huntress if
she was ever a man; another good example is when he asks D’Angelo if he’s ever
been known to say “I love my Good & Plenty?” What makes ridiculous
questions like these so interesting is (a) odds are these bands who have had
multiple interviews have never been
asked these questions before so do not have set answers, and (b) it completely
catches them off-guard, even when they don’t understand the question (for
example, the answer to the Good & Plenty one was an honest, “I don’t know;
have I?”). D’Angelo says it best when he refers to these innately inane
questions as “Zebubisms.”
Though
some from the US and Canada, most of the bands interviewed are from Europe,
such as Greece, Germany and Russia; most of them, however, are from the
Scandinavian Bloc, arguably the epicenter ofBlack Metal. Sometimes, because of that, part of the joy of this pure
silliness is sometimes there is a language barrier, but the questions are just so out there, that even with that, the
band members seem to be having a genuinely good time, and that tends to flow
over to the other side of the screen to the viewer.
For
the observer watching this, it’s important to have a bit of a thick skin
because it seems like Zebub's whole existence, be it in his documentaries to
his fiction-based films, is to get a rise out of, well, everyone. This is part
of why I have said more than once that I’m guessing he is either a gas to hang
out with or a complete asshole (perhaps both). Questions are often in complete
bad taste, such as calling something “gay,” referencing swastikas (not the ideology
behind it, though), or inviting bands to smack Layla.
It’s
a lot of fun, and to take it from another perspective, it would have been easy
to have made this all about Zebub in a reign of Zebub, but even though the
queries are completely ludicrous, the film still mostly manages to make this
about the band’s reactions more than about Zebub’s questions. I’m kinda
relieved about that. It also makes for a much more interesting documentary.
Sure, he’s part of it rather than impartial (though, of course, there really
isn’t anything as objective, no
matter what the Ayn Randites believe), but he doesn’t dominate (okay, he
occasionally does); he’s more the moat around the medieval castle.
Mixed
in with all the interviews is music by many of the bands represented here. Some
are live and some are professionally shot band videos. What I especially appreciate
is that most are them are complete, rather than just snippets. The one thing I did
find a bit disappointing was the lack of credits for the nearly half dozen interviewing
personnel in the main feature. .
The
extras are an additional, 37-minute single-camera interview with King Diamond
of the band – er – King Diamond, and a complete film, reviewed directly below.
Am I
converted metal fan after watching nearly 4 hours of the feature and both the extras?
No, and yet I still enjoyed the package.
Metalheads: The Good, the Bad and the
Evil
70
minutes, 2008 As
always, Bill Zebub plays Bill. He’s kind of a one note actor that way, but on
the other hand, he plays himself well, probably because he’s playing himself
(or some version of it).I’m trying to say this actually in a positive way. He’s
kind of a man-child, as if he were mentally stuck at age 15: horny, daring, and
obnoxious as all get out.
His
girlfriend, Elaine (Emily Thomas) is both charming and abrasive at the same
time. A scene where she has taken some acid and is completely paranoid is (or
should be) a classic. On the other hand, she’s is nagging Bill because he is
perpetually jobless and doesn’t have a car to take her out, or to go on dates.
On the third hand, I kinda agree with her; both parties should try being
self-sufficient in a relationship.
Bill
wants Elaine to marry him; however, tired of Bill’s attitude (and supposed
small genitalia, a running joke [?] through his films), Ellaine first hits on
Bill’s bestie, Rich (Tom Goodwin). This opens a possible floodgate for her,
Meanwhile, Bill has started to hang out with a tough guy with a brilliant New
Jersey accent (Carl Williamson, credited only as “”Evil Metalhead”), who is
violent, super macho, and thinks being a bully is being a man (I grew up with the
disco versions these kinds of guys in my neighborhood of Bensonhurst). In an
uncomfortable scene, he gets an underage girl (though the actress, Kathy Rice,
is not) drunk and de-virginizes her off-screen. There are lots of scenes of
nudity and masturbation by various characters, but not any detailed onscreen
sex.
While most of the dialog seemed ad libbed, it was pretty funny and scripted. For
example, during a fight with Elaine, Bill yells, “I’m gonna have a girlfriend
who doesn’t listen to KISS, like you
do, because the only time a metal band should have the word baby in a song is if it’s about killing babies.” Later, the bad dude
tries to egg Bill on with, “You’re living with the volume turned down. I’m
gonna show you how to crank it up.”
Despite
the comedy level of most of the film, it does not end on an upbeat, so be
warned. Still worth watching if you’re into a micro-budget, metal focused
story.
In
a world where indie filmmakers are trying to be the new Spielberg or Scorsese,
or possibly even a Craven or Carpenter, James Balsamo seems to be aiming at
best towards Landis’ The Kentucky Fried
Movie (1977), though it would probably be more accurate to say Abbott and
Costello or the Three Stooges, with him playing all the key parts, and usually in
tight black tee-shirts to show off the “guns.”
Now,
there’s two ways to read that paragraph, and if you’re not reading it in the
complimentary way, well, you’re mistaken. Balsamo’s films are rude, crude, and
full of pulchritude. In other words, they’re fun. Now, there are some A-listers
who follow the rude-to-be-rude-to-be-cool rule, such as Seth Rogan and his ilk;
personally, I find Balsamo’s stuff way more enjoyable because although it’s
pretty obvious he (and the cast) is having fun, it’s not just working hard to
reaching goofiness to be goofy, Balsamo’s films are just, well, goofy.
While
he’s definitely an auteur and has his own “signatures,” each film has a unique
idea at the base of it, and as it follows that thread, everyone and everything
is jumping into the fray. One way to look at it is that he leans more to the School of It Don’t Matter (writing, acting,
etc.); it’s more about the whole ride.
After
a fun animated credits with a really off-key Robert Palmer homage called
“Addicted to Blood,” we are introduced to Tony Canoni by Judy Tenuda and her
“reality show,” Lifestyles of the Rich
and Obnoxious. He’s a narcissistic rich twit (think Hiltons or Kardashians)
who cares only about weed, sex, and, well, that’s about it. His girlfriend,
Cookie (Sarah Martin), is an obnoxious golddigger twit.
James Balsamo and HG Lewis
After
one misdeed too many, Tony’s grandfather (a stumbling Hershell Gordon Lewis,
the Mass Market Maven of Florida, who is better known for single-handedly
inventing the gore genre by directing the likes of Blood Feast [1963] and Two
Thousand Maniacs [1964] ) cuts him out of the family’s fortune unless he
gets an edu-ma-cation in the form of a GED. This leads to Cookie leaving him
(no loss), being kicked out of his mansion, and asking a number of cameo metal
musicians – and Ron Jeremy – for a mere $100,000 to help him get by.
After
saving a man from being killed by the Lesbian Mafia (no comment from me) due to
his owning them $30K, he talks the troubled and stereotypical gay guy, George (Paul
Fears) into letting him stay on his couch in exchange for paying off his debt
when he earns his degree and is reunited with his fortune. The apartment is
shared by George’s father, the angry and also stereotypical Asian Mr. Woo (Vincent
Leong). Tony and George both sign up for the GED class,
led by Mr. Fleck (a very wooden, yet humorous Roy Frumkes; he wrote the classic
1987 flesh-melting Street Trash), who
gets to spout lines like: “Let me assure you George, a GED is your best weapon
against militant lesbians.”
Mandy Cat Kitana
Meanwhile,
there is a concurrent double story about a nasty vampire, Gregor (Billy Walsh,
who played the main villain in Balsamo’s I
Spill Your Guts in 2012) biting assorted people (yeah, mostly women, just
like in the Hammer days), and a very
diminutive (4’11”) yet sexy and busty vampire princess named Vicky (Mandy Cat
Kitana), who hangs out in front of the telley smoking weed with a Teddy-like vampire bat puppet named Spat
who talks in a high-squeaky voice (Balsamo?). She’s bored after all these years
and so also signs into a night (of course) GED class. The same one as…yep, you
guessed it.
As
time goes on, the stories continue to collide more and more until the meld into
one very confusing but enjoyable mish-mash. Vampires be coming outta da
yin-yang by the end, some of them showing ample cleavage – especially high
priestess Elizabeth (played by Veronica Freeman) – others resembling classic
Romero zombies but with fangs. Then when Elizabeth turns into a two headed
vampire bat creature with boobs and a serpent’s tail puppet that, well, a brief
description doesn’t – er – bite into it.
There
are three constants in a Balsamo film, and I’m grateful for all of them. First,
there is the homage to other films, such as a very nice nod to Roddy Piper,
especially as this was filmed about the time he passed away. There’s also a bits
from Rodriguez’s Desperado (1995) and
the great kung fu classic The Flying Guillotine
(1976; aka Du bi quan wang da po xue di
zi). Of course, he also tips the hat toward many other directors and
styles, such as the aforementioned zombie vampires, and even himself, as he has
Spat watching a television promo for his own as yet non-existing sequel, I Spill Your Guts 2, as well as some
wacky other ads and fake TV clips.
Frank "Fuckin'" Mullen
Second,
there are the cameos. It’s kind of a blink-of-the-eye-and-miss-it kind of
thing, or many times it’s a matter of who’s
that now? For me, it’s especially true of the death metal musicians, as
it’s not a genre that speaks to me. There’s also a bunch of indie film actors
relatively known, famous, and infamous, such as those mentioned before, Roberto
Lombardi who is making a nice niche in fan films with himself as an effective
Freddy Kruger, scream queen Genoveva Rossi, genre collector turned actor John
Link, John Dugan (the grandpa in the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre in 1974), porn star Jasmin St. Claire,
off-beat Other musician David Peel, and many others. As I’ve said before,
Balsamo goes to a lot of horror and music cons across the country, and films
little clips with the actors and finds a way to include it in the story: Butch
Patrick – wearing a Herman Munster tee – is a perfect example here. Then there
is always Carmine Capobianco, who has great comedy timing, and especially Frank
Mullen; I’m a fan of the guy, as I’ve said before. He should be in the cable series
version of The Wolf of Wall Street.
Last
of this list is the humor, mostly of the lower kind, but there are so many gems
included that it pays to listen as some of them zing by. A good example of this
kind of wit is when after someone demeans Tony, he says, “Do you know who I
am?!” The guy responds with a derisive, “This is New York. No one gives a fuck who you are.” Another great and easily
missed one is an acquaintance running into Tony stating, “I haven’t seen you
since you took that tropical vacation to Vancouver!”
Gore
appears often, albeit cartoonish (that’s okay, the whole film is a cartoon, in
a way), there’s lots of flesh (wouldn’t complain about more, though), and many
of the effects are laughable to the point where you’d almost expect them to be
in a Japanese television program. My one complaint, though, is the sound is
uneven and sometimes over-modulated to the point of fuzzy. Still, I’ll take it
as part of the whole.
So,
here’s a true, digressive story: I had to stop watching the film about half way
through because of various reasons (not that I wanted to, just life), and planned
to finish it the next day. That night I dreamed that I was hanging out with
Balsamo (as himself, though I have never actually met him in person), and we
were sitting on a couch talking about indie horror films and the Ramones. There
are lots of shots of him sitting on a sofa in his films, so it’s no wonder. I
don’t do weed, drink much or listen to metal, but as obnoxious as his
characters tend to be, this dream shows that he still comes across as someone
likeable on a deeper level. That says a lot to me, considering I wouldn’t want
to get near any of his characters.
Go
watch this film, and have a laugh; whether with it or at it, it’s all good.
That
bon mot is true, y’know: location, location, location. That’s the
only way anyone can really explain the cameos that appear in Balsamo’s films. I
mean, Lloyd Kaufman (king of Troma), Debbie Rochon (a queen of scream queens), Lyn
Lowery (early indie horror goddess), Tim Ritter (fellow low-budget director of some
classics like Creep), Andrew W.K. (overrated
rock singer), Dave Brockie (GWAR’s Oderus Urungus), Joe Flieshaker (the rotund Mayor
of Tromaville) and even Tom Savini (the Chuck Berry of modern gore SFX) If these
films had been shot anywhere else than around New York City, the odds of this caliber
of presence would probably never happen. My guess is that he met many of them at
horror-cons, most likely the NJ Horror-Thon (I still remember going when it was
called the Chiller Theatre Con). And by the way, Acid Bath Productions has a great
animated logo. I’m just sayin’.
Within
the first five minutes, you know you are going to see a brain-dead film that will
be fun from beginning to end. The devil (and his minons), who claims to have brought
on the Holocaust, 9/11 and The View, sends
a film script to two “idiots” who decide to take the three stories and make an independent
movie. These two maroons are the director,
James Balsamo, and his frequent partner in crime, Michael (“Mike”) Shershenovich,
the director of the film Bloody Christmas
[reviewed HERE];
they also share many of the same cast. The song in the opening credits informs you
of what the tales will contain (just follow the bouncing skull). Obviously the filmmakers
are taking this project as an act of joy, so fuck it, why not do the same.
As
a sidenote, after the first couple of episodes of Gilligan’s Island started, the producers also gave it a “fuck it,| and
made the decision not to focus on the reality of where all the clothes and props
came from, or anything else, deciding to make it story-based episode by episode;
a similar philosophy is apparently present here, for the better.
The
first story, “Tomb of the SS,” is starts with some present day Nazis (one has a
thick New York accent, who is watching two topless women dance like the models in
the Robert Palmer “Addicted to Love” video, except in SS hats). The New York Nazis
take over an archeological dig in Afghanistan (looks like some beach out on Long
Island), where they force the hero (director Balsamo) to read some hieroglyphics
that raise an army of Egyptian (in Afghanistan?!) mummies that attack the group,
even though he never does get around to any translating! Somehow a Russian air force
pilot (Shershenovich) gets involved. It’s all done with great bravado and in heroic
tones, with Balsamo talking in that cinematic condescending tone to humorous effect.
Hell, while there is no surprise and the blood and gore couldn’t look more fake
(as is true with the rest of the film), the story is a hoot. I could see it in another
dimension being a solid Amazing Stories
episode with different writers, actors and director, of course).
The
second story is called “Earth is on the Menu,” not to be confused with the classic
Twilight Zone, “To Serve Man.” In this,
a meteorite a la The Blob, takes over
some people via pink vines up their noses, and winds up at a local Battle of the
Bands (held at Lulu’s Village Pub, Port Jefferson, NY),
where it’s a greaser group vs., well, Balsamo on a stand-up bass. Obviously none
of them play an instrument and barely try. The creature finally pops out of someone
and is essentially a bend cardboard sheet with what looks like either silly string
or really thick, colorful paint on it. Oh, and did I mention the very visible strings
moving the tentacles (see the trailer)?
Of
course, a defender from another planet aka Dave Brockie as Oderus Urungus, appears
(he also has an extremely funny take as a bartender sans mask). Nothing like having
a being from another planet scream out, “He’s got me! Jesus Fucking Christ!” It
comes to a battle of the bassist and the beast. Nah, I’m not gonna tell ya the result.
The
last story, “The Mark,” is the most convoluted and ridiculous of the three, or to
but it this way, the most fun of all the pieces… and the others had me laughing,
too. There is a lot of religious imagery in this one, from both the Christian and
Jewish perspectives. The central character is a man (Balsamo, again) who is into
astral projection, or as his ex-girlfriend calls it, “asshole projection”. He’s
worried about what he’s doing while he sleeps (apparently killing evil people by
pulling their spine out of their eyesocket), so he seeks out his rabbi, Lloyd Kaufman
(!), who has the payot (hair curls) attached via a band on his head, like earmuffs.
He offers Balsamo a plate of bacon and mentions a woman coming to teach a topless
Torah lesson. Oy!
This
segment, which was originally supposed to be a kung fu flick as shown in one of
the extra deleted scenes, ends up being a hot mess, with ridiculous and dubbed over
dialog, absolutely no sense of sequence (it’s not for nuthin’ that a common theme
of the film is a distaste for narrative filmmaking), utterly no continuity, and
possibly a hint of racism. How nuts, you may ask? Well, the title refers to a mark
on the main character’s back that is mentioned a number of times, but is never shown.
In other words, ten pounds of crap in a five pound bag that – if you’re like me
when it comes to indie horror films – you will be happy to be immersed.
Between
the stories are fake commercials, trailers, and other bits, including an extended
promotion for Troma Studios with Kaufman, as well as the masked later versions (as
opposed to make-up) of Toxie and Sgt. Kabukiman. The Kaufman bits are funny if hammed
up (pun intended), though the Tromaville P.D.
etc., bit is kinda whatever.
I found
it interesting that this movie was obviously filmed over an extended time, probably
as shorts put together with a thread. The quality of the actual images changes pretty
often. For example, in one of the between bits, with Lyn Lowery (over)playing a
script agent, suddenly the visual is of much lesser quality, sort of like it was
film on VHS and transferred.
Extras
include the trailer, a blooper reel of the first “Tomb of the SS” bit, and the aforementioned
unused kung fu clips of “The Mark.”
This
film is, undoubtedly a waste of time, but what a great way to squander an hour and
a half. Think I may watch this again, now… I’ve got time to kill.
In
the middle of a gun battle in (Afghanistan?) (Iraq?), two besties get caught in
an ambush, resulting in an act of cowardice that causes the other to get shot in
the throat. Informed that his injured friend will probably die while in a German
hospital, the unharmed Joe Bava (Billy Walsh) smugly tells his pal, Dennis Berkowitz
(director Balsamo) that he is taking the credit for saving the supposedly cowardly
Dennis, which includes a medal and honorable discharge. This makes Dennis angry
enough to live and seek revenge on anyone associated with Joe.
Berkowitz
(really? A multiple killer named Berkowitz? Hasn’t that been done enough in real
life?) busts out of the hospital leaving a trail of bodies of the doctors who saved
him (?), where he really could have just walked out. Hmmm.
We
come back to New York (referred often in title cards as “New York, NY” rather than
just “New York City”), where Joe is a drunken, braggart ass, and Dennis kills just
about anyone who runs across his path in various and semi-imaginative ways (e.g.,
a sandwich shoved down a throat and a pair of hedge clippers). Meanwhile, there
are numerous scenes seemingly thrown in as filler, such as someone giving a wrestling
lesson, or the bizarrely tattooed in real life barbell boy Tim Dax. Oh, did I mention
that there is another serial killer thrown in for one scene for whatever reason?
Hey, this all leads to a decent body count.
The
cast in this film is huge, with nearly 50 roles listed in the IMDB, most of which
have speaking roles, many of which seem to be ad libbed. While this never seems
to be confusing, as the revenge story line is paper thin and the rest is just short
pieces (pun intended) of the disposal of people. To tell the truth, I’m totally
okay with that. Why invest in a fodder character when their screen time is so limited.
Besides, it’s the killings that we want to see anyway, right?
As
par the course, the writing is okay, though there are some genuinely intentionally
funny moments (and quite a few of the other kind). The acting is kind of, well,
there, kinda-sorta, with some genuinely decent readings (Rochon, for example, clearly
and literally phones in her role, but she comes across quite natural in the moment).
One
of the major characters of the film is also the largest filler: multiple shots on
the streets of New York. Mostly it’s just a few seconds of buildings or crowds,
and it’s fun to pick out where is what (there is one shot that I am totally baffled
by, perhaps in a borough). Yes, this does make the film longer, but that’s exactly
what Easy Rider (1969) did, though in
that case, there was more music over scenery than actual story. At least it certainly
felt that way. But I digress… Like most of the film, these shots are single-camera
and handheld. I would recommend that if the budget does not permit a tripod, then
with all the filmmakers involved as cast, surely someone must have a spare to be
borrowed, please. Then again, I’m grateful this is not a “found footage” level of
shaky.
As
for the music, there’s a lot listed, including by the Meatmen and other screamo
/ death metal bands of whom I am honestly not familiar (possibly where the budget
went?). They should have used Chesty Malone and the Slice-Em-Ups, in my opinion.
Check them out, James.
While
the acting is questionable and the writing passable, the effects do range from laughable
to quite decent. There’s quite a bit of spatter, though the actual event is not
shown in very much detail. For example, in the opening scene, there is a totally
naked male body, sans head (upper; lower is intact). Or you’ll see a sharp object
get raised, a quick close-up of something, and then the person dead in whatever
bloody shape. Of course, there’s lots of nudity, piercings and tattoos.
There
are a number of extras, such as the trailer, deleted scenes (meh), a gag reel (pretty
funny), a music video of “Destructor” by Ghoul (who appear in a full-song, sync’d,
extended stage performance in the film), and an interview with the artist who drew
the DVD covers, Brooklyn-based Jeff Zarnow.
All
in all, if you’re into the whole Troma zeitgeist, this will fit in pretty way to
that canon.
Cool as Hell Produced, written
and directed by James Balsamo Acid Bath Productions Wild Eye Releasing 90 minutes, 2012 / 2013 www.WildEyeReleasing.com www.MVDvisual.com
The third
opus here is just one of five flicks Balsamo has filmed or has in production for
2013. As par, this one is also sex and drug and rock’n’roll…well, death metal, anyway.
As with most, it is a horror comedy.
Don’t
get me wrong, I believe that Balsamo fares much better with comedy horror like Hack Job than with a more serious slant,
as with the more straightforward I Spill Your
Guts. The former is a lot more, well, forgiving
than the latter.
Here,
we meet the main protagonist, comic book store manager Rick (Balsamo, of course),
and his roommate and best friend Benny (stalwart Dan E. Danger). Both of them combined
seem to have a double digit IQ. Rich wears only Hawaiian-style shirts and has two-tone
hair which is often referred to in the story as a “cheetah” (though it’s just yellow
on top, dark on the bottom, rather than patterned). He talks rather like an AM disc
jockey, but at a junior high school level. A loveable schlub? Yeah, I guess. But
a monolog he has about a superhero comics shows why he strikes out so often.
In fact,
the tone of the film and these two characters just smack of early Kevin Smith, with
Balsamo being the (un-)Silent Bob and Danger the quirky, off-center Jay. Even in
the early days of Clerks (1994), Smith
showed more filmmaking competency than Balsamo, but you know what, where I found
Smith to be clever but dull, I enjoy most of Balsamo’s output more (with the exception
of Dogma [1999], but I digress…). There
is more of a level of whatever in Balsamo’s
work, possibly due to having so many films in such a short amount of time to really
concentrate on proficiency, but it’s just so stupid and inane, that it gives genuine
laughs.
The plot
(no need to use the work “thickens” here) is as sort of as follows (most of this
is on the DVD cover or coming attractions below, so I’m not giving much away): a
green demon named Az (Billy Walsh; great make-up) – short for Azmodius? – is somehow
enthralled to Rick, so of course Rick wants to use him to get laid. Did I mention
there is a LOT of female nudity (and even some softcore shots), as usual? Rick meets
the possible girl of his dreams, Ashley (the cute and toothsome Lauren Adamkiewicz;
I hope Balsamo uses her again, as this is among her only credits). Her boyfriend
is a macho loanshark bully / dick who abuses her (Balsamo regular Frank Mullen,
who is also the vocalist of the Long Island-based death metal band, Suffocation)
and is constantly threatening Rick. He swings the “fuck” word as much as most people
use “the.” Along the way, a portal to hell opens which releases a bunch of zombies
(again, great make-up on the few we see) onto the streets of New York – including
Patchogue, NY, where much of this was shot. Will our loser hero rise to the occasion,
even after being given a bong that never runs out of weed by a blue and yellow booger
named, well, Booghar?
A theme
that runs throughout the film, to an amusing albeit overdone motif, is Rick accidently
bonking into people who curse him out, including members of numerous death metal
bands that appear on the soundtrack, or actors he managed to shoot for very brief
cameos, such as David Naughton (the lead in An
American Werewolf in London in 1981). Many of the stars that appear on this
film, such as Laurence R. Harvey (of 2011’s The
Human Centipede II: The Final Sequence) and Tom Savini are there less than 15
seconds, so don’t blink.
For me,
the one major flaw in the film, other than the sheer stupidity of the whole thing
(for which I am grateful), is an extended scene with Ray trying to get money from
his brother-in-law. It has an ad-libbed feel that just does not work for that long
of an extended scene that doesn’t move the story along. It should have been sliced
up to a much smaller time, and perhaps added to a deleted scenes extra.
Speaking
of extras, this one is kinda skimpy at three trailers, but that’s okay. Who has
time for extras when writing and directing five films in one year, right? There
is part of me that truly wishes Balsamo would slow the fuck down and do perhaps
two a year, and really work on them, rather than just put down anything that goes
through his mind at the moment. That’s why something like Clerks became a hit. Here, there is too much inconsistency, no overdubs
to drown out the traffic noise, and more holes in the story than (put your analogy
here). But on the other hand, this is such a high level of guerilla filmmaking that
you can’t help but marvel at some of the stuff they pull off, such as a scene outside
a church where they never actually enter the church, which had me in stiches.
It is
interesting to see these three films over a short amount of time. There is definite
growth going on in skill (and especially non-digital effects), so I am hoping this
will only increase in time. And, for some reason, I look forward to more of James
Balsamo’s perhaps increasing competency, if not lunacy.
