Review: Scream Park

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2014
Images from the Internet

 

Scream Park

Written and directed by Cary Hill
Protomedia
Wild Eye Releasing
85 minutes, 2012 / 2014
www.screamparkmovie.com
www.wildeyereleasing.com
www.MVDVisual.com

First-time feature director Cary Hill is obviously a genre fan. Filmed in Pittsburgh, there is a number of nods to George A. Romero and zombies, even though there are none in the film; however, the copyright-free Night of the Living Dead  is shown in a couple of scenes on a monitor screen.

Shot in the spooky Conneaut Lake Park (where scenes from the more mainstream The Road was also filmed in 2009), Hill gives it an ‘80s/’90s slasher feel to the level that one of the characters (the punk guy) actually uses a cassette (before it was cool again), and the manager wears those really big framed glasses that we all wore back then. I dunno, it feels like a time warp with cell phones being the flip kind. Wouldn’t be the first time someone thought of that, but that also doesn’t take away from it being cool.

At a run-down local amusement park – which reminds me of when we used to go to Crystal Beach (d. 1989), Ontario, not to be confused with Camp Crystal Lake – we meet a half-dozen or so co-workers who show various levels of enthusiasm for the job, as the park is on the brink of closure from lack of public interest. We see mostly empty rides and sideshow games with a number of vacant seats. This group is typical of film teens, expressed through high school jackets, though it’s obvious they are at least in their mid-twenties and even some receding hairlines (I’m thrown back to MADTv’s “Pretty White Kids with Problems”). While there is the goth (or punk) girl in a corset with tutu, the horny couple, and the good girl, among others, happily Hill manages to steer away from too heavy handed clichés, such as the jock vs. the nerd. Bravo.

I promise I will try not to give away too much, but I do have to say, the one black guy (who isn’t part of the Pretty Kids group, though equally disgruntled) dies first by being hanged. Really? A black lynching? Things that make you go hmmm, indeed. In my own defense, it’s pretty clear he’s a character that is gonna get it quickly, so I hope I’m not giving away too much. Okay, I’m backing off on the spoilers now.

There are some subtle homages here and there, such as the orange-haired punk guy who is reminiscent of Linnea Quigley’s Trash character from Return of the Living Dead (1985), and one death is right out of The Toxic Avenger (1984). The lead character, Jennifer (Wendy Wygant), reminds me of a taller version of Jennifer Love Hewitt of I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997), and another’s (the exceedingly cute and diminutive Alicia Marie Marcucci) hair style, shirt and plaid skirt is right out of Drew Barrymore’s in Scream (1996). Also like that film, there are two killers (they make that clear from the beginning as they both wear different masks). Perhaps these are coincidences, or subconscious leanings, but I’m willing to bet that it is an honorarium, more than anything else.  Then, of course, there is Pinhead himself, Doug Bradley, in a 4 minute cameo flashback as the amusement park owner, Mr. Hyde (first name Henry?).

This film follows along with the model of Carol Clover’s excellent 1992 analysis, Men, Women and Chainsaws of the women actually being braver and more intelligent than the men. If you haven’t read this book and you’re a genre fan, it’s well worth it.

One flub that annoyed me, and I am saying this with a genuine smile and without a hint of sarcasm, is one person (male) is inside a building and is fumbling with the keys to open the door to let the heroine in before the guy with the ax gets to her, when it is obviously the door has a lever turn-latch, not a key one.  Oh, and why does one of the killers, played by Kevin "Ogre" Ogilvie (AKA Nivek Ogre) from the industrial band Skinny Puppy have (a wavering) southern accent in Pittsburgh? I truly believe it’s important to embrace these kinds of questions with these films, because it means you pay attention to what is going on. Man, I love indie cinema! Hey ho, let’s go! Punk rawk!

While the ending had a nice touch, the theory was clear to me pretty early on.

There is only one topless scene, by the extremely bodacious, attractive, and oddly grayish-toothed Kailey Marie Harris (yes, there are two actors whose middle name is Marie). As for the gore, there’s lots of it, most of it quite effective, even though the fresh blood is bit too dark and heavy on the viscosity (looks like motor oil); the splatter looks much better. Scalpings, beheading, axes, knives, they all look good and the after effects are successful, thanks to Arvin Clay. And that’s what matters, right? Of course, right.

The editing is sharp, the color over-saturation works in the retro genre nod, and the day-for-night functions well. There are the usual first-film inconsistencies (one of the fun things to find for me), such as after someone pulls out a huge bag of raw french fries from under a sink and is then called away, when she comes back she pulls it out again. Shades of Vincent Price’s sweater in The Last Man on Earth (1964). Sure there are the occasional holes here and there, as is fitting the micro-budget and genre, but here’s a thought. If the place is named “Fright Land,” wouldn’t that have made as good a name for the film as Scream Park?

The commentary track by the director is interesting with anecdotes and techniques, but it is a revelation at 1:06 that made a whole shitload of sense to me that I hadn’t thought of before, so kudos for that, Cary. There is also an amusing bloopers reel which is more the cast letting off steam than errors, and as usual with Wild Eye releases, some great company trailers.

As a directorial debut, this has been pretty highly accepted, with rightfully a bunch of festival nods. If you’re a fan of the ‘80/’90s pre-torture porn slasher films, I don’t believe you’ll be disappointed.

 

Review: The Scar Crow

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2012

Images from the Internet

                            

The Scar Crow

Written and directed by Andy Thompson and Pete Benson                

Gaia Media / Dead on Arrival Digital / Jingai                 

83 minutes, 2009 / 2012    

Gaiamedia.co.uk

MVDvisual.com

Well this is a just-miss Hammer-esk film that is a bit of a mixture of early-1970s and mid-‘80s clichés. The story of three fetching witches (Prim, Proper, and Vanessa Tanner) enacting a bloody plan to escape a curse by their lecherous (and non-warlock?) dad and move on after 300 years could have been right out of the mind of those who wrote the Karnstein Trilogy (look it up HERE) rather than written by co-directors Andy Thompson and Pete Benson).

Let me start with the good stuff, coz that’s the kinda guy/fan I am. The film looks beautiful, is shot well, and edited strongly (if sometimes confusing of the action, especially in dim-lit scenes). People fading in and out are certainly nice touches and the sense of atmosphere works incredibly well; also soundly done is a scene where the audience can see the post-carnage effects in a room, but some of the characters who are enchanted cannot. The British countryside and the farm have just the right feeling of isolation, creepiness and loneliness to show the emotions of the sisters, without needing dialog to explain, though the words and actions are there.

The shimming light of fire rather than electricity, for example, is used without much loss to the image (i.e., too dark to see), and the color saturation is nicely tuned (fire tends to make things too yellow or red).

As the viewer is taken back and forth between the origin story centuries ago that weaves through modern times, it is never confusing, and they tie together in a solid knot that is the center of the story.

Ah, yes, the story. Actually, it is a really decent tale that is poorly told (as you can see, I’m starting on the problem parts now). While the acting is mostly either over- or underdone, which I will get to shortly, it is the co-screenwriting by the directors where is the most troubling.

But first, let us catch up a bit on the story. You got the three enticing witch sisters who cannot leave the farm until the curse is lifted (they are both bodily solid and spatially fluid, depending on the circumstance, which is actually a nice touch), and then there are the four macho insurance salesmen (is that an oxymoron, or are they just trying to mock a cliché?) copping out on a mean-spirited office team-building weekend (I would quit the job before going through this ridiculous and physically rigorous nonsense; most office workers could not do what is expected in the film, and beside, many insurance sellers these days are women, and there is nary a true representation in the group. But, as usual, I digress…). Running out on the exercises (rightfully), they come across the rural farm with the witches, to become fodder, as expected.

Man, I hated these four guys. They are every macho jock moron bar bully you ever met. We are also never given a chance to really feel pity for them, because, with one exception, there is no background story given about them, and absolutely no character development. All they do is drink (excessively), talk about how they’re going to score with the three women (disproportionately), and goad and fight with each other, calling their supposed good buddies “twats” over and over. The dislike I felt for them, including the supposedly sympathetic one who is more than willing to cheat on his girlfriend, was palpable. There were a couple of times there where I just said to the screen, “Oh, c’mon, kill the asshole already.”

There is also no shock value in here. When one of the four twats (as I now will call them) stops for a potty break in a field, there’s no doubt as to what is going to happen. Even the ending is no surprise, if you’ve seen any horror film in the last 30 years.

 But the biggest annoyance for me was the questions that went through my mind about the plot holes. For example (and I’ll only give two here), if the witches are planning to use these twats for their great escape, why would they let them go to the town pub and mix with the locals, including the cliché wise-but-not-taken-seriously-by-anyone older guy (bar owner, here) who warns them to leave? And why, when they are seducing one of the twats, who is tied to the bedposts, would two of the sisters undress over him and start kissing each other?  I mean, gratuitous lesbian incest, really?

As for the cast, well, most of the acting, as I said, was either too subdued or too scenery chewing. For example, the witches are supposed to be 300 years old and isolated (are you trying to tell me that no one else has been on that farm in all that time for them to do what they need to escape?; obviously, there are more than two questions…), but they sure do seem to know a lot about Twenty-first Century mores for women from the Eighteenth Century, including stripping at the drop of a corset. When they speak, they sound stilted in their language, like a high schooler trying to do Shakespeare, rather than have it flow naturally. This is especially true, sadly, for the most film-credited actor in the cast, redheaded Marysia Kay (as the eldest, Vanessa). Her line reading is atrocious here (I haven’t seen her in anything else, so I don’t know if it’s endemic for her, or she just didn’t care about this mess). The other two sisters, busty and beautiful Gabrielle Douglas (middle child Proper) and the cute and more reticent Anna Tolputt (youngest Prim, short for Primrose), fare a bit better, but are caught in a maelstrom of clunky writing.

As for the twats, well, mostly they seem interchangeable. Their characters were so vacant and transparent, and their portrayers so bland, that half the time I couldn’t remember who was whom. In fact, I’m not even going to bother with them, other than the supposedly sympathetic anti-hero (?) Dez, played by Kevyn (really?) Connett (who looks remarkably like Canadian comedian Shaun Majumder). While his acting probably comes the closest to being best among the troupe (possibly why he is the lead male role), he is also hampered by a ham-fisted script.

Now the all important gore-factor: I read a review that claimed it was not up to par, but actually, I thought the blood-to-kill quotient was quite good, and with one exception of a very obvious prosthetic in a corn field, was pleased with the various body parts strewn about in various scenes. It is amusing to me that a similar gag employed here – a hand reaching through a body to lift out a heart – was also used almost identically in a more recent film, Zombie A-Hole, reviewed recently on this blog by moi. Oh, sidebar here: I actually was annoyed that the character who had his heart removed above, along with other internal organs, was still alive to view all this happening way beyond the point of even suspension of disbelief. Again, poor writing/direction.

                                          

I realize this is a first film by Benson and Thompson, so I’m going to cut them some slack. After all, as much as I loved them, the similar could be said about some of the early works of masters like Chronenberg, Waters, Hooper, and yes, even Romero. I’ll keep my fingers crossed, even though they’ve only worked on one film since this was filmed in 2009. Perhaps we can get them to direct something they have not written, or have edited by someone else, where their strengths will all come together, because if they can match their content with their visuals, they may become a force worth noting.

                                                                      

Bonus clip:

Review: The Disco Exorcist

Text © Richard Gary/Indie Horror Films, 2012

Images from the Internet

           

The Disco Exorcist

Directed by Richard Griffin                

Wild Eye Films, 2011

80 minutes, USD $16.95        

wildeyereleasing.com

MVDvisual.com

It seems the whole retro exploitation movement came into full fruition with the Tarantino / Rodriguez double-billed Grindhouse (2007), with fake period pieces added, digital scratches to look old, and “missing scenes” taken out. Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the genre, out comes The Disco Exorcist.
 

Despite the obvious comparison to the previous film(s) mentioned, The Disco Exorcist is, well, amazingly enjoyable. Director Richard Griffin has a history of making horror films of various genres, occasionally with a retro feel. He has certainly hit the pin on the voodoo doll head with this one.

Taking place in 1979, at the height of the disco era and just as it was starting to thankfully wane (to be replaced by the equally noxious hip hop), there are three main characters around whom the plot revolves, each with less than subtle character names.
 

First, there is the title fellow, otherwise known as Rex Romanski (i.e., king of romance). He’s sort of like John Revolta / Tony Monero from Saturday Night Fever (1977), who dances and then subsequently beds all the women, and then moves on to the next one with no thought of hurt feelings. He leaves a string of women who sit at the dance club watching him move while bitterly (and humorously) make snide comments like a rejected Greek chorus. Donning a ‘70s style long-haired wig and full of baby blue eyes and dimples, Michael Reed plays him almost as an innocent, rather than the pig Rex actually acts. Without malice of thought, Romanski just lives his life, which just happens to involve disco, dipping and dumping. His sidekick, Manuel (Brandon Luis Aponte, taking a fun turn), is rarely from his side, even when he’s in a porn theater – er – touching himself, watching his favorite actress perform.

At the club, he meets the edgy, sometimes beautiful / sometimes scary Rita Marie (a derivative of the name Miriam – Moses’ sister – Marie means “Bitter”… yes, I just knew that off the top of my head; Rita, a derivative of Margarita; is a pearl… that one I looked up). We see from the first scene that there is something wrong with Rita, who has more power than she can use wisely, and rather takes her anger issues out by… well, you’ll have to see the cool period aesthetics. Ruth Sullivan, a consummate actor actually, does just the right amount of scenery chewing for this role, which calls for a lot of hysterics, yearning, burning, and literal finger-pointing.

Lastly, there is Rex’s idol and eventual lover, porn star Amoreena Jones (as in Amore). Beautiful with pouty lips, Sarah Nicklin is fearless in her role as the focus of Rita’s jealous vengeance. This is another part that could have been dismissed by an actor of less caliber, and cheapened by the action, but Nicklin actually comes out the best of the three as far as skills go – and that’s saying a lot considering the amount of talent is actually present despite the budget – not by doing her “Linda Blair” bit of being possessed, but by her comic timing and treating this as a she might, say, The Godfather (yeah, okay, that was a weird comparison, but hopefully I made my point). Oh, as a sidebar, in the real world, the leads Nicklin and Reed are married, so some of the positions they assume were “familiar,” as they state in the commentary.

All three of these actors are part of the New England theater scene (as are most of the secondary and ancillary cast), and Griffin, from the area himself, filmed much of this in Pawtucket, RI, as he does with most of his releases. As such, the three are part of his stable of on-screen (and quite some behind-the-scenes, as well) talent, having all appeared in a number of his flicks.

I must say, that as a retro film that was supposed to look like it was released at the end of the ‘70s, Griffin does take it a bit too far. For example, in that period, you never saw male genitalia, unless it was a rubber dildo. Even then, unless it was someone like Russ Meyer, it was highly unusual, and no theater (other than pornos) would have shown it, unless, of course, it was Meyers, an even rarer exception, and yet only in some major cities. Even with female nudity, it was T&A, but no genital hair for a long time. The one exception I can think of, though, is the actually boring The Harrad Experiment (1973), where we got to see Don Johnson’s – er – johnson.

Going in that direction for a moment, it is interesting to note that part of the this excursion into dat ol’ tyme exploitation horror, there is a set piece involving the filming of a porno film (stolen, in part, by the faaabulous scenester and collector – IMDB refers to his “paranormal artifacts, murderabilia, sideshow exhibits and downright weird stuff” –  Babette Bombshell, who also designed the hexilious voodoo doll). I bring this up because recently, I reviewed the re-release of the mostly expunged Gum (1976) [HERE], at the correlation between the two is remarkable, including cheezy sets and lack of acting (although this would become especially true when porn switched from film to video in the ‘80s).

Also, check out the commentary, consisting of director Griffin, actors Nicklin and Reed, and producer Ted Marr. Usually, when you have that many people doing the annotation, it gets muddled and people talk over each other, but here, not only do they respectfully let each other have their say, but what they say is relevant to the film. Plus they still keep it humorous, again indicating that it was an enjoyable shoot for them, which passes on to the viewer.

I gotta say that this was a hell of a hoot (pun intended) to watch, and I recommend it to those who are not offended by body parts, both attached and un-. And, in the meanwhile, I look forward to seeing the sequel, The Brother of the Disco Exorcist,  listed as turning its head in 2013.

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Review: Kids Go to the Woods… Kids Get Dead

Text © Richard Gary/Indie Horror Films, 2012 Images from the Internet

                            

Kids Go to the Woods… Kids Get Dead
Written, produced, directed by Michael Hall                  
Dark Star Entertainment / Planetworks Enterprises, 2009 / 2012
85 minutes, USD $14.95       
Darkstarentertainment.net
Kidsgetdead.com
MVDvisual.com

There is a large difference, in my mind (such as it is), between a horror film and a slasher one, even if they overlap to some extent. This definitely falls into the latter category. But there’s nothing wrong with that…

Michael Hall writes, produces and directs his first full lengther here, with a mix of ‘80s-style clichés and some interesting updated touches, which are just enough to send this into the noteworthy aisle. Supposedly, the idea and film’s name germinated from Hall watching Friday the 13th, which he described as this release’s title. Not surprisingly, a lot of the elements of that 1980 piece of cinema appear here.

For example, rather than following the recent done-to-death found footage route (thank you for that), he presents this as a ‘80s film that was taped over some VHS home movies. There are also some (fake) commercials and a horror hostess that interrupts the film to bookend the “ads” and return to the story. This is part of a non-existing program called Midnight Movie Madness – though I can see this as part of a series – presented by Candy Adams (a name take-off of the non-sexy Cindy Adams?) played with lots of cleavage and innuendo by Carly Goodspeed. While a smart idea, it is also one of the just misses of the film in that Candy is more goofy than goddess, e.g., Elvira (the obvious go-to comparison, I know) or Ivonna Cadaver, nor does it match the over-the-top campiness of, say, Matilda LeStrange or Morella.  But Goodspeed shows she’s game and seems to be having fun with her role.

The premise of KGTTW…KGD is that a group of (high school? college?) friends get together to celebrate the birthday of one of their clique, who is forced to bring along her younger brother by her parents. He is reading a horror novel, in which a gas-masked killer terrorizes the woods, and then appears to come to life to start picking them (and others) off, until there is an adequate body count. Unfortunately, how (and I won’t give away the plot line) this becomes a reality is never explained.

Perhaps the point is to – er – point out the clichés of the ‘80s straight-to-VHS films that glutted the market, and in that case it was successful, though the fact that I wonder about it means it’s not as effective as it was meant to be, in that case. Here are some examples, and please know I don’t mean this as whiney as I make it, mostly.

There was a MadTV sketch called “Pretty White Kids with Problems” (great theme song by Lisa Loeb, but I digress…) about older actors playing teen roles in over-dramatic television shows (can anyone say Pacey? Dylan?). This is what we are presented with in this film, as well. Everyone here seems to be at least in in their late 20s (didn’t spot any bald patches, at least). This is especially egregious in the younger brother character, Scott (played by the great monikered Andrew Waffenschmidt). Either he is supposed to be around 15, or he is, as they say in New England, wicked retahdid (no insult meant).

Here is the group that takes off into the woods to be to potential killer-fodder: there's said brother, the birthday girl and the lummox who is trying to bed her, her bestie and the lummox who is trying to get past third base with her, and a lesbian couple who have been having home runs apparently many, many, many times (and supply most of the nudity). The two guys are just brutal to the equally lecherous (in his own way) younger bro, and I was sitting there listening to them talk and smirk, just hoping the dude in the mast would show up soon to shut them the hell up.

Leah Rudick

The acting by this troupe is passable, but you don't really get that they're taking this too seriously, while the director seems to be taking it much too seriously, espeically for a supposed comedy horror (as it is listed on IMDB). The one who ares the best, though, is the birthday girl, Casey, excellently played by Leah Rudick. She definitely comes across as the most talented of the group in this department.

As for the ancillary characters, there is the nutsy older local who runs the gas station / convenience store, a Vietnam Vet who warns the hero/ines to stay off the moors… I mean out of the woods. He is especially played to a chewing the curtain rods level (I’m thinking purposefully) by Kevin Shea. Then there is the totally ineffectual town cops who are too busy threatening the local previously mentioned Veteran to stop bothering the “kids” rather than to notice that anything is amiss in the burg.

Now there is the killer, played forcefully and effectively by Joseph Campellone (paisan!). Unfortunately, the name of this beast is, well, “The Killer.” No fancy “The Shape” or “Jason” that’s memorable. The audience never sees his face, of course.

I must say, though, for a film shot for $10K in the woods around Orange County, NY (the Middletown / Goshen area, aka The Catskills, as my grandparents would have called it), it has a good look. There’s lots of gore for the buck (though they need to work just a bit on the formula for the blood mixture), and that is a plus, and even a couple of good shocks (unfortunately, one is spoiled by the trailer).

The one stereotype that really bugged me, though, was that the killer always walks at an even pace while the youngsters he is chasing run like mad. And yet, when they inevitably trip and fall (I thought, at the time, “really?”), he’s a few feet right behind them. And, of course, they roll over onto their back (or just lay on their front) and cry while the guy with the knife walks over to them, rather than getting their asses up and running more. Didn’t like that in the ‘80s, and it still annoys me now.  

 As the slasher genre goes, this is pretty par, though for the production financials, that’s saying a lot in the positive column. Plus, the film gives a whole new meaning to the expression, “Not on my face” that alone makes this worth the watch.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChFkPBDk4K0

<Strong>Trailer: </strong>

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<Strong>To view film online:  </strong>

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Review: Planet of the Vampire Women

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films Blog, 2012

Images from the Internet

                            

Planet of the Vampire Women

Directed by Darin Wood           

Seminal Films, 2011                            

95 minutes, USD $19.95   

Seminalfilms.com

Planetofthevampirewomen.com

MVDvisual.com

This film reminds me of three overlapping horror and sci-fi sub-genres. The first is from the 1950’s low-budget B-line films that used laughable props and minimal sets. Some classic examples are Queen of Outer Space (1958) and Cat-Women of the Moon (1953).

The second is more of a ‘70s and ‘80s post-VHS intro of then-smoldering fantasy, like Galaxina (1980) or the British obscurity Spaced Out (1981). This was mostly fall-out from the post-Star Wars (1977) success ride-the-wave glut. These last two made John-Boy’s Battle Beyond the Stars (1980) and the original Battlestar Galactica (1978) look like Titanic (1997).

The last is from the millennium period, when a series of women-based films, often with lesbian fantasy sub-themes (though mostly watched my teen males), that took traditional storylines and changed them to fit the format, such as The Vampire’s Seduction (1998) or The Lord of the G-Strings: The Femaleship of the String (many of which starred the likes of the lovely Tina Krause and Misty Mundae).

Planet of the Vampire Women is a pleasant and quite rightfully ridiculous throwback to that style that looks like some of the cheaper sets on the first season of Star Trek, where boulders were easily identified as paper mache, clothing was tight, and creatures were either puppets or people in hairy suits. Welcome back!

You may ask yourself, “How cheap is cheap?” Well, for example, the film opens in a casino / strip joint (of course), and the liquor (opium rum) bottles are written in a strange language… in magic marker. Yep.

Our heroes, as it were, are space pirates (no, the loveable kind, not Somalian), led by Capt. Miranda Richards (Paquita Estrada; for some reason imbd.com has her listed in two films from 1934 and 1933!). Her crew robs the casino (a scene of blood and boobs, as I wrote in my notes) in a set piece that’s a tad too long, and then they tear out of there via their spaceship, which is maneuvered by a steering wheel. Did I mention the word cheap? Oh, and I don’t want to forget the bobble hula girl on the dashboard. As they zoom off, Richards officially states, “Captain’s log, star date…whatever.” I love a film that doesn’t take itself seriously, and had lots of nods to its time-binding predecessors.

All is well and good until a mysterious face in a cloud shoots a lightning bolt into the good captain’s eyes, turning her into the first of said vampires (around the 24 minute mark). This does not bode well for the rest of the crew, which includes: Astrid Covair (Stephanie Hyden), a smarter-than-she-looks “pleasure clone” who can change into any raunchy outfit (and does often) or to anyone, with a twist of her body that would make Samantha Stevens proud (one of her best lines is “I read a lot between fucking and sucking!”); the driver is Ginger Maldonado (Liesel Hanson, who ironically plays Liesel on the TV show Galen), the hardcore Tank Girl type; Pepper Vance (Ashley Marino) plays the drugged out scout; and the only male on board, Automatic Jones (Keith Letl), who is part android and most likely a nod to the various “robots” in the Alien franchise. Chasing them – and eventually joining in, of course – is lawman and Cuba Gooding Jr. lookalike, Val Falco (Jawara Duncan). You know he’s a cop because he has flashing red lights on his sunglasses; he also has one of the better recurring lines: “Now look, I’m not saying what we saw were vampires…all I’m saying is there was some kind of undead creature that was sucking the blood out of the living and shot lightning out of their eyes…”

They are all forced to land on a hostile planet filled with electrical storms and blowing dust (another Alien [1979] reference?), where they encounter – in part – a paper mache dinosaur (wisely only seen in short spurts) and digital space bugs that look like the zomBEES from auteur filmmaker Bill Zebub’s The Worst Horror Film Ever Made (2008).

Of course, this all end up back at the stripping casino (obviously shot at the same time as the opening scene) for the final battle between good and evil, living and undead.

Shot at Black Cat Studios in Sacramento, strangely, the entire film is one chapter on the DVD, so the viewer has to fast forward to wherever they left off.

Look, it is impossible to watch a film like this with the same mindset of, say, Lord of the Rings (2001) or even Me, Myself and Irene (2000). When you get down to this level, it’s a completely different semantic environment, and the rather than expecting the best and taking away points, the viewer must expect the worst and add from there. Using this paradigm, this film was sheer stupid, obnoxious, and a ton of fun. This isn’t a cinema discussion group material to discuss how it reflects to Kant, but rather you should get some bodies in the same room, turn it on, and party. You’ll groan, you’ll hoot, you’ll point out all the continuity errors and how amateurish the sets and creatures truly are. You might even be the one to say, “Man, I could do it better than that.” But most likely you won’t; rather you’ll have to settle and kvetch while getting a lot of amusement seeing this.

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Review: Bong of the Dead

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films Blog, 2012
Images from the Internet

Bong of the Dead
Written and directed by Thomas Newman
MVD Visual
90 minutes, 2011
www.Bongofthedead.com
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Okay, so a meteorite falls out of the sky (shades of The Blob, 1958) bringing a zombie plague from outer space (Night of the Living Dead, 1968). What do you do? Dude, what do you do, dude? Well, if you’re the two main characters of this amusing film, you sit back and light a fatty. A lot.

But grass takes such a long time to grow. User and experimenter Edwin (Mark Wynn) explains to his stoner compadre Tommy (Jy Harris) that by mixing mushed up zombie brains with H20 and using that “green goo” as a fertilizer, it produces not only instant hemp plants, but also a form of superweed for which Harold and Kumar would eat brains (personally, I’ll stick with the White Castle, but I digress…).

The government, however, has cleared most of the land of the flesheaters, keeping them isolated (28 Weeks Later, 2007), in what’s known as the “Danger Zone.” With the pot smoked and no patience to wait for a plant to grow with the brownish tap water (effective visual piece of humor there), our heroes decide to take their beat up car and drive the however many miles to the Zone, so they can get some new fertilizer. Actually, now that I think of it, that’s quite a poetic turn, with the living guys looking for zombie braaaaains. After all, as the film’s tag line states, “There will be bud” (not to be confused with C.H.U.D. II’s subtitle of “Bud the C.H.U.D.” [1989]).

Thankfully, only a small segment of this is actually a buddy travel film, because that’s been done to death (puns intended) more than the derm-chompin’ zombie flick. Along the way they run into this really nasty zombie, Alex (Barry Nerling), who, for an unexplained reason, keeps his consciousness, so he can think and talk (he’s the only one). He wants to raise a zombie army and take over (he wears a modified Gestapo uniform at one point).

Our potheads also run into a lovely and resourceful woman, Leah (Simone Bailly), who is on her own; her family ran the town garage, and she is both fierce and mechanically inclined. Plus, now she had to put up with these two losers. She builds some weapons to fight off the zombies, such as one based on a weedwacker, a car with spinning blades to chop up the zombies (Dead Alive, 1992), plus a set of retracting blades in arm-length leather gloves (Blade, 1998).

Will she join forces with these guys (and more importantly, why would or should she?), and help them get to the Danger Zone to get zombie brains to grow some additional weed? Well, one thing about these kinds of films is that plausibility needs to also be checked at the door.



Director, Thomas Newman

The Zombie genre seems to lend itself well to comedies, as some previous ones have shown, such as Shaun of the Dead (2004) and Aaah! Zombies!! (2007; aka Wasting Away). Same with horror bong films (yes, I went there), such as Evil Bong (2006), Evil Bong II: King Bong (2009), and, I kid you not, Evil Bong 3-D: The Wrath of Bong (2011). Seems only natural someone would combine the two together, especially with the success of the Harold and Kumar franchise.
When one considers the logistics of this film, it is quite an amazing feat in itself: Director Thomas Newman also wrote the film, shot it for $5,000 in 15 days on a single camera, and then took two years to do all the post-production graphics (CGI, etc.) and editing on a single MAC computer in his basement. Plus, he managed to score quite the cast for such a low budget production.

Simone Bailly

As the quick-witted and hard drinkin’ Leah, Simone Bailly (who has a sort of Eva La Rue vibe going), has a long resume, including film and television. She’s been on numerous cult shows, including some recurring characters, in the likes of Battlestar Gallactica, Stargate SG:1, The L-Word, Smallville and DaVinci’s City Hall. Leah is possibly the only sane one in the whole film, though I’m not sure about her judgments. And, happily, her shower scenes aren’t gratuitous.

Dealer-turned-stoner Edwin is played by Mark Wynn, who has a bizarre sideburns-beard combination going on, and a joint nearly always within reach. Wynn has also been in numerous (mostly) television programs in smaller roles, including Smallville, Fringe, and the TV film The Boy Who Cried Werewolf. Edwin is the smarter of the two roommates, but that’s not saying all that much. Without the constant pot intake, he may have gotten somewhere. That is if that annoying little global zombie breakout didn’t happen, of course.

Jy Harris, Mark Winn

His stoner-stayed-stoner roomie is Tommy, portrayed by redheaded standup comic Jy Harris [standup is HERE]. Tommy is an annoying character, honestly, like an unhousebroken puppy you can’t control, but Harris gives him some warmth and sympathy, thankfully.

Barry Nerling

Actor and stuntman Barry Nerling plays the lead evil zombie, out to rool de verld…I mean rule the world. As with many villains, even in grade-A films, he hams it up to a John-Lithgow-sit-com-acting level, showing off his yellowed eyes and big teeth as much as possible. Of course, it’s a comic role, and he is both menacing and funny at the same time, so kudos.

Considering that Newman did all 355 effects by himself is by itself stunning, but the fact that they look that good is astounding. We see meteors fall out of the sky, explosions, bridge stanchions knocked over, and let’s not forget the exploding heads, etc. On a rare occasion, the F/X is clearly unreal, such as the fake-looking smoke coming out of the duo’s car, but 98 percent looks as good as a big budget bonanza (Bong of Independence Day?). Mix in Mike Fields’ make-up and prosthetics, and you have a powerhouse production on a shoestring.

For an area that has been cleared of zombies, there are thankfully a lot of them in the movie, including face-chewing (and topless) lesbians and a pregnant woman (and hence a zombie baby, a la, once again, Dead Alive) among the throng. Of course, there would need to be to keep the action exciting, and this certainly fits the bill.

Andres Santana

There are a couple of nits here and there for me, as there nearly always are: right off the bat, you notice that the voices don’t always skew up to the players mouth motions. Ah, I thought, overdubbed voices. Sure enough in the end credits, in an act of full disclosure, Thomas admits that no sound in the film is from the original shoot, but foleyed afterwards by sound producer Andres Santana. This makes the film sound a bit flat, as everyone in every situation is at the same level. But to his credit, as well as the actors, the film’s principals all dubbed in their own voices, and probably were paid the same rate as the shoot itself (I’m guessing $0, as tends to be on this type of project of love).

Also, there are a number of inconsistencies / anachronisms, such as one character saying that after the plague, the television went dead, and then the radio. Yet, at the garage, Leah listens to a song on the radio. Another, Leah and the boys are supposed to check the generators every four hours, but they’re all drunk or stoned and sleep heavily through the nights. Okay, then there is that blood always pouring out of a zombie’s head and into someone’s face (and therefore their mouth), yet they don’t change (but once bitten…). Last one I’ll mention: to protect them, they armor a vehicle, including netting over the front windowframe… but wait, there is just the grating and no window. How is that safety? Anyway, you get the idea. Nothing earth shattering, but noticeable.

The only extra on the DVD is the trailer.

As a non-stoner, there probably was a bit lost on me here and there, humor wise (the aforementioned White Castle and Manhattan Special Espresso Soda are my drugs of choice), as similarly was Cheech and Chong growing up, but there is a lot to recommend here, including decent acting, effects, and story.

Newman’s main work is in the field of make-up (e.g., Millennium, X-Files, Lake Placid), and this is his first – and so far only – film, so when one considers the lack of experience matched by the quality of the work and look for the film, I’m looking forward to more. The end of the film leaves it open for a sequel (actually, it promotes it), though Newman’s next film tentatively scheduled is Deadsville, a 1880s-based “Western/Action/Horror Zombie“ film. Either way, based on Bong…, I’d like to see it.