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.
The Razing
Directed by J. Arcane and Paul Erskine Pacific Future Films
109 minutes, 2022
When I get together with a bunch of friends that I
haven’t seen in a long time, even if we didn’t necessarily leave on the best of
terms, it almost always turns into a night of joy, and maybe a titch of
resentment here and there, but we tend to work it out, even if we agree never
to talk again. But in the cinematic world, that only works out in the Hallmark
type films, and usually involves either Thanksgiving or especially Christmas,
but never in genre films. And this belongs to the latter. It’s in the title,
which means “the complete tearing down.” Heck, the film’s tag line is ”burn,
baby, burn.” Before I even start, the description reminds me a bit of Who’s
Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966).
For Cory’s birthday dinner, there are four old friends
plus the guest of one of them, so two women and four men. There is animosity and
tension present right from the start; no waiting around, no pretending, the
story just dives right in and takes the viewer with them.
I love it when a title can be taken in different
contexts. The obvious one is that these people don’t like each other, and are
willing to verbally tear each other down. Jealousy, lust, and power all factor
into not only the old “friends,” but even the new arrivals. But this group is
sort of like Prospero in Edgar Allen Poe’s short story, “The Masque of the Red
Death,” as there is something possibly evil happening beyond the walls, that is
making people violent, such as in the likes of The Crazies (1973; 2010).
But this can also be seen as a metaphor for other pandemics (COVID, anyone?),
with some at the table not even believing it’s a real thing as people are
murdering others beyond the viewer’s scope of the film. In fact, except for one
scene, the entire film takes place in the spacious apartment.
The main characters are an unlikeable crew in their
thirties who have carried around their overstuffed baggage since they were
college age. The main troupe is bearded and bespecled Cory (Jack Wooten), who
is as verbally abusive as his wealthy father (Kent Allen); his spouse is Ellen
(Laura Sampson Hemingway), who everyone seems to desire; then there is Ray (Logan
Paul Prince), who looks a bit like a jock and has the hots for Ellen (or “El”,
as she’s often called), even though he brought along a guest in the form of Claire
(Mia Heavner); then there’s Lincoln (Nicholas Tene), who, as a child, was
raised by a then college student and then badly drunk “mom” (Kim Allison Hèbert).
Lincoln’s friend when he was younger, Josh (Jay Torres), did not fare well with
this group; hopefully, Claire will do better.
What both holds the collective together and tears them
apart is a combination of drugs in the form of pills, and an event that we see
in great detail in the past when they were young, told in extensive flashbacks
in the same apartment.
The question the film leaves the viewer with is: what
is truth. How many of the events depicted are “real” and how many are hallucinations
by the many, many, pills of various colors that are ingested in the 109
minutes of the film? Are the supernatural elements real, or are they mind games
played by chemical infusions?
In many ways this can be considered an art film, or
even fall under the Transgressive Cinema label. Angles are off-putting, with a
tendency to extreme close-ups (not always in focus), pointed at an upward
angle, or hand-held and swirling a bit. Visually, the screen often looks dark,
like it’s in power-saver mode and with a yellowish filter, with occasional effective
use of split screens, and the vocals appear to be flat and dubbed in; there is
no depth so everyone seems to be at the same distance even if they are at the
opposite sides of the room. Even the orchestral soundtrack, written by
co-director J. Arcane, is moody, spiky and dissonant, which actually works well
for the piece, though it’s a bit more upfront than needs to be, so it occasionally
is distracting to the talking, and dialogue is key in this film.
Being filmed during the time of COVID, it is
interesting to see how everything on-screen is designed and the large apartment
space is used in the shots, with fish-lenses used to disrupt the visual space
and keeping people looking closer than they actually are. That is not to say
there isn’t any touching, because there is, but it’s minimal, albeit intense.
Along with the visuals, philosophically the film delves
into society, class relations, and the possibility of redemption, as well as a
bit of insanity. When does one’s life become too much? At nearly two
hours, it feels a bit long, honestly, and it tries hard to be meaningful.
Perhaps a second viewing at some point will bring home some of the points I may
have missed. It’s a very lulling film that is certainly consistent with its own
“feel,” sound, and intensity.
This is the first release for Pacific Future Films,
and it’s a good freshman step in the right direction. I’m really curious to see
where they go from here.
Her Name Was Christa Directed by James L.
Edwards Buffalora
Entertainment Group; RoseRed Lane Films; Flowtac Entertainment
120 minutes; 2020 www.facebook.com/HERNAMEWASCHRISTA/
In our lives, we have all met people like Steven (director
James L. Edwards), who are lonely and middle aged, building a wall around
themselves and acquiesces at work while living a shallow life. If I hadn’t met
my wife, that could have been me. Bald headed with a “janitor’s” moustache and
a bit of pudge, Steven is a telemarketer, making sales in a room full of others
doing the same. He takes pride in his work, but is abused by his unappreciative
boss. Mainly, Steven is lonelier than he will let on, perhaps more than he
realizes, even joining an online dating service.
Steven meets the new guy at
work, fast-talking Nick (Drew Fortier),
a narcissistic and crude dude who is there for the moment because it was the
only job at the time that would hire him. He’s young, attractive, and has
latched on to Steven, convinced it is his job to get Steven laid. I have known guys
like this at work, too, especially in the 1980s, but I digress…
Following Nick’s
suggestion, Steven visits a girl of the night, Raven (Kaylee Williams) in a
both humorous and cringingly unhappy experience with which I can sympathize.
This leads to another idea by Nick: “the girlfriend experience,” where the paid
party pretends to be a girlfriend to loosen things up a bit.
By a coincidence and a
moment of kismet, he meets the future Christa, a corner hooker named Candy (Shianne Daye), whose
favorite band is “The Velvet Underground with Nico.” Good start I would say. They
set up the ground rules, and they start hanging out together. As the
relationship progresses, they are sort of in a yin and yang situation. For
Steven, he’s happy just to have someone to cuddle with, not necessarily looking
for more, but for Candy, this confuses her since her entire life revolves
around men using her for sex, and here is someone who is into something a bit
emotionally deeper though he is aware of its parameters, and that is an
experience she has never dealt with before, that someone would be interested in
her as a companion rather than an object.
Over time, their bond becomes stronger until a series
of tragic events unfold, taking the film into another level that might classify
it into a horror (perhaps a psychological one). By this point, it comes out as
a study of a mental breakdown that is reminiscent of a more romanticized version
thematically of Decay(2015)or, if you want to stretch it a bit, Nekromantic (1987), without the “real-life” intensity, thanks of Steven’s mindset
(such as it is). Oh, those crazy Akronites.
The film’s gore level picks
up a notch or five, as we see the differences between what’s going on in the
mind, flipping back and forth with the reality of the situation, most
effectively displayed when a split screen is used. Another interesting way to approach
the film, especially on a second viewing, is to realize that some conversations
between two people are actually happening in one head, and the talk and motives
reflect that. And this film is particularly dialogue-heavy, and while it keeps
the interest in its long two hours (more on that after), it is important to
remember that this is the director’s first feature, and he would show some of
his humor more in upcoming releases.
The only two real complaints
I have, as it were, is that it really didn’t need to be a full two hours, and could
easily have about 20-30 minutes honed from it (just add it to the Deleted
Scenes folder on the Blu-ray). The other is the main musical synth theme on the
soundtrack, which sounds like he was trying to emulate Goblin in the 1980s, but
I found it quite irritating. Loved the film, but not this aspect of it.
I am really looking forward
to future films by James L. Edwards. Perhaps a nice text editorial work by a
second party might be good, but he is so incredibly on the right path. His
stories themselves are great, and he always seems to manage to throw in some
nice twists and turns. That all makes it fun.
Star Vehicle (aka Bleading
Lady) Directed by Ryan Nicholson
Plotdigger Films; New Image Entertainment; Unearthed Films; MVD Visual
76 minutes, 2010 / 2021 www.plotdigger.com/movies/hanger-2009/ www.unearthedfilms.com www.MVDVisual.com
Apparently, Unearthed
Films – one of my fave labels at the moment for both its original content and reissues
– has purchased the hardcore gore films of the late Vancouver director, Ryan
Nicholson (d. 2019, way too young of natural causes). Nicholson’s love of the ‘80s
slashers is evident here right from the start, be it the tone of the film, and
even the synth score over the credits.
Dan Ellis
As with the recently
released Hanger (reviewed HERE), this film also stars Dan Ellis,
as Donald Q. Cardini, who stole every scene he was in during Hanger, and
not just because of the prosthetic nose. One of the things the opening prologue
scene made me think of is the multitude of videos available on YouTube about
abusive Lyft and Uber passengers. For this film, Don is a driver for a movie
company, shuttling cast and crew from accommodation to location, and back. His
take on these privileged back seaters is certainly a fantasy of drivers, on
occasion, I’m sure.
As grumpy as Donnie
is, he is smitten by Reversa Red (Sindy Faraguna), “the Scream Queen,” who
has an unknown stalker lurking about. He knows all about her life and career,
and is super protective of her, even smashing a friend and fellow driver’s (Mike
Li) face into a fence for suggesting he’d like to…well, you know. Don is
egocentric and a buttinsky, needing to make his presence known, even if it means
lipping off Luke (Nathan Durec), the newbie indie director of the film within
the film (meta-film). I was wondering if she is a metaphorical or ideological stand-in
for Debbie Rochon, the star of Ryan’s previous release.
Sindy Faraguna
He spends a lot of
time on set, as we watch the director shooting his low-budget horror flick. This
leads to some very dry humor that can be appreciated by the viewer, if they
have been on a similar set, or not. The meta-film shooting of the horror epic
are some of my favorite parts. Thing is, you can guess this is actually what it
is really like on some sets, with some bad acting and minimal accommodations,
including food.
There are some good
action scenes (i.e., kills) throughout the first two acts as Don gets more and
more deranged, reminding me of other nutty overly enthusiastic fanboy films,
like The Fan (1981), The Fan (1996), or The King of Comedy
(1982). Being an aspiring filmmaker with no direction or means, who is watching
shoddy work, along with the presence of his idol, Don snaps, which affects Reversa,
her co-star Sienna (cute Erindera Farga), the make-up person Jenny (Paige
Farbacher), and Luke. Assisting Don on camera to film the debacle is the “Lodge
Boy” (Nick Windebank). The latter becomes a willing accomplice to the mayhem.
Of course, things get increasingly
erratic and especially bloody as these filmmakers get caught up in the vision
of a maniac. I will not, of course, go into detail, and ruin the joy for the
new viewer. Let’s just say, as this is a Ryan Nicholson release, that
things are not all smooth sailing.
The thing is, most of
the characters, with some exceptions (such as Luke), are actually likeable, and
even with little to no backstory on any of them, it is easy to feel some
sympathy for them, which of course makes the kills all that more engaging. There
are a lot of prosthetic goodies from the meta-film, but the actions of Don feel
more visceral, even if they too, in reality are compositions, like in Hanger,
created magnificently by Michele Grady.
It is pretty easy to
figure out who the stalker is, though, which is a nice ribbon-and-bow tied on
the story that made a really nice soup with all the bits coming together. There
are still plenty of surprises that pop up and can make the viewer go, “oh, I
was not expecting that!” or admire how even some well-worn tropes are used
(stalker) to an advantage.
Though I do not have
the disk, some of the extras will include an archival full-length commentary with
the director and lead actor Dan Ellis, “On the Set of Star Vehicle”
presented by Left Coast TV, “Behind the Wheel of BleadingLady,” a
“Making Of” featurette, “Make-up Students + Acting Students,” Deleted Scenes
and Alternative Opening, opening at Splatterfest at the Plaza Theatre, a photo
gallery, and the trailer. The discs are available on Blu-Ray and DVD from
Unearthed Films and MVD Entertainment at the links near the top.
While I do not believe
this is one of Nicholson’s strongest works that I have seen to date, it’s still
heads over many others from either that period or even some that are being
released now. I am sad that Nicholson died so early because he could have
easily outshone some majors like Eli Roth, and many of his films have done just
that; they just haven’t been recognized as such yet because of his passing.
Unearthed re-releasing his catalog will hopefully shed more light on his fine work.
Think of the early releases by Cronenberg and Peter Jackson; you know how some
say, “His early works were amazing even though they were cheesy at times, but
you could see the brilliance there”? Nicholson never got past that beginning
point, so we will never know what kind of The Fly or Lord of the
Rings opus he might have eventually given us. For now, thanks to Unearthed,
we have the opportunity to enjoy what we have.
Quarantine
Girl Directed by Nicole
D’Angelo, Gregory Hatanaka CineRidge
Entertainment; Cinema Epoch; Mad Sin Cinema 62 minutes, 2020 https://cinemaepoch.com/ www.madsincinema.com
As negative as the COVID-19 pandemic has been for
world health, I have oft commented that a flip side to that has been the
absolute explosion of artistic endeavors, especially in the cinema realm, that
have been launched during the lockdown. Whether it be a Zoom-shot release or more
traditional story-based as is this one, this film is a prime example of that –
err – outbreak.
A lot of the leading cast is the same as the Gregory
Hatanaka release Choke (2020; reviewed HERE), and with it being released around the same time, my assumption is they were
filmed either back-to-back, or concurrently. Of course, this film has a limited
number of players, considering the pandemic going on around while it was being
shot.
Nicole D'Angelo
Ruby (Nicole D’Angelo) is a business woman who is returning
from an overseas work trip, just in time for a pandemic to hit. Obviously, the
disease in question in the story is COVID or at least COVID-based, but the
disease is never mentioned by name, only that it effects the respiratory system,
and that it is a Novel Virus. The timing of this filming is perfect, as we see
Ruby walking through a supermarket early on, and the shelves are empty,
especially the paper goods aisle.
We find out what is going on with her thought
processes as she phones her dad (David Marc) and pal Anjie (Craijece Lewis),
and on the television there is always alarms, read by the newscaster on KLOL (haha),
Wendy (the Lisa London). There are some beautiful shots of nearly empty
city streets, some from an overpass, or handheld cameras of city blocks devoid
of humans. Her world, like the streets, is empty, but it is not vacant.
Slowly, but surely, the disease is getting worse, and
those around her are affected, such as multiple shots of usage of hand
sanitizer, even when not leaving the house. For a while, Ruby is still going out
on jogs, has her friend Nate (Shane Ryan) over for company and a drink (there is
a lot of wine, vaping and cigarette imbibing by our Ruby), a visit from her
dad, and lots of conversations via media with Anjie (dammit, I keep hearing the
Stones’ song in my head whenever I type her name).
Shane Ryan
Odd things keep happening, such as packages repeatedly
showing up at her door (disease or not, Amazon sends its drivers out) with
random things inside, and someone has hacked into the camera on her computer
(the story does not try to hide who it is, but I will leave it for you to find
out).
While events worsen, and things get tighter and more closed
off, it starts to wear on Ruby. Personally, I do not understand this completely.
She has the Internet, a cell phone, and a television, though I did not see any
books or magazines. Sure, that can be tiring to some point, but all one really
needs is a hobby. One of them for Ruby is “deep cleaning,” but that’s not the
same thing, nor does it last. I have been indoors for over a year (with four
exceptions) and with my hobbies, such as this blog, I keep myself occupied and
somewhat out of trouble. But, as always, I digress…
By the end of the first month, as some unexplained medicines
begin to run low or out, Ruby is already losing it. Not in the Gerald’s Game
(2017) kind of supernatural way, but she’s starting to put on darker lipstick
(for whom?), and talking to whomever is watching her through her computer, playing
around with S&M with online dominatrix…Wendy the anchorwoman? Is this real
or in her mind? Also, Ruby is contemplating doing some harm to herself in anger
and frustration. After a month. Wow. She must be some serious Type A personality.
It’s been a year and I’m still quite sane. Wait, who said that?!? Where are
you?!?! Err, never mind.
Lisa London
There are some really good musical choices for
incidental background, though there is also an odd use of a comical tone. Not
quite Benny Hill level, but it sometimes feels out of place, such as with a
neighbor peeking in her window.
By the conclusion of this story, which is hardly the
end of the pandemic, as we are still in it and this was filmed before the
vaccine, Ruby is a woman on the verge. But a relationship may be a change.
Personally, I didn’t buy this for a second, and was ready to yell at the writer
because it seems improbable, but the writer is also the main director and star
of the film, D’Angelo.
Even though I generally liked the film, the dad
character felt a bit underdeveloped, and there were definitely some cringy
moments, which especially includes the wind-up. I did read someone who said they
found it “sweet.” Huhwha? I am assuming that in real life, in those circumstances,
that would not really happen. More likely someone would end up at the worst physically
hurt, at the best, never talked to again. D’Angelo does an overall good job in
presenting her material, and she is a good enough actor to pull it off, and I
have seen her in several roles now, but that ending…
The overall film is a perfect hour-length for its
story. Any more would make us all a bit restless considering the topic.
Hopefully, you will get to see this film in a nostalgic way, as in “Oh,
remember that pandemic; wasn’t that sumptin’?” Bet there are going to be
people (me) who will miss sitting around all day in their pajamas, watching
television, scanning the Internet, and shopping online. All the things that are
driving people like Ruby a little bit cray-cray.
Both these films have been combined in a two-disk
Blu-ray / DVD package “Grindhouse Double Feature” by VCI Entertainment and MVD
Visual. Both were directed by Texas native S.F. Brownrigg (aka Brownie
Brownrigg), who died in 1996 at age 58. Both of these were shot with local
talent “deep in the heart of…”
First of
all, not fer nuthin’, what can you say that about a film (or at least title)
that inspired an early, great Ramones song, am I right?!
I actually
remember seeing this film when it came out, coincidently a few months after I
first saw the Ramones, but I digress… While I don’t recollect the story very
well, being over 40 years ago, I am surprised at how much I’m remembering of
the images as I’m watching it. The fact that it’s made that much of an
impression on me after all this time must stand for something, I guess.
Though I have
to admit I thought it was silly at the time, I have a lot more film history
under my belt and can look at it in a new perspective. And fortunately, I don’t
recall the ending, so that’s a bonus.
Rosie Holotik
The film
takes place at Stephens Sanatorium, a private retreat for the insane, where the
cast of interesting and diverse characters include a woman who thinks her baby
doll is real and threatens anyone she deems a threat (Camilla Carr), an
African-American man who has the mind of a child (top-billed Bill McGhee; d.
2007), a judge who likes to reap his own justice in any manner he deems correct
at the wide-eyed moment (Gene Ross), a nymphomaniac (again, remember the time
period and genre) looking desperately for love (Harryette Warren), a guy who
thinks he’s in the army called Sarge (Hugh Feagin), and a man who is a brat,
acting like Dennis the Menace (Jessie Kirby). Meanwhile, the inmates truly are
running the asylum, apparently, as the staff keeps getting killed off. Though
one appropriately named Dr. Masters decides to do an Al Haig and puts herself
in charge. It’s all sketchy. On top of all this, a new nurse is schedule to
come at any moment. Oh, and this entire paragraph takes place before the
opening credits. Yep.
Annabelle Weenick looking very Miss Togar
Looking
like she just stepped out of a period Swedish Airlines Stewardess commercial, psychiatric
nurse Charlotte Beale (statuesque Playboy
centerfold model Rosie Holotik) has arrived on the eve of two staff deaths, and
manages to talk Dr. Masters (Anne McAdams, aka Annabelle Weenick, d. 2003) into
keeping her position. Of course, there’s more going on than meets the marquee.
As I
watched the film, there was so much I remembered, even after so many years,
including the last shot, and in particular one of the gruesome deaths, which in
my memory was much more shocking than the actuality after decades of ever more
detailed and close-up mayhem. There is a key point I figured out early on,
though honestly I don’t really know if I remember the big shocker or I figured
it out, but it is effective.
Gene Ross plays a judge in both flms
Don’t get
me wrong, this is a nicely bloody film in the Grand Guignol style of Hershell Gordon Lewis (though not that graphic). The style of the film is
very similar to a lot of the mid-1970s to early 1980s films that came back to
light with VHS, such as Mother’s Day,
Maniac, and even The Texas Chain Saw
Massacre, including the mostly bad acting (well, perhaps not bad as much as over-the-top theaaaahhhtrical emoting, often with the
eyebrows and teeth), ridiculous storyline and a conclusion that is a bit up in
the air.
But
please, let me point out, because this is important for films of this period,
that is why we like them, rather than
in spite of it. They were goofy fun¸
and easily enjoyable without working the brain muscles too hard.
Don’t Open the Door (aka Don’t Hang Up)
Directed by S.F. Brownrigg
Camera 2 Productions / Jefferson Productions
85
minutes, 1974 / 1979 / 2018
While the Don’t Go to the Basement was Grand Guignol, this film’s style is
closer aligned to the Giallo murder
films from Italy, which started to show up at US theaters around the same time
by the likes of Dario Argento. All one needs do is look at all the really
creepy dolls to get that vibe.
There is a
bit of overlap with the cast here from the former film, but that should be no
surprise for an indie release. However, in the leading role is fetching Susan
Bracken as Amanda, a woman with a strong personality who has left her doctor boyfriend,
Nick (Hugh Feagin) after a fight, to take care of her ailing grandmother. Of
course, something murderous happened in that house 13 years earlier in 1962 when
she was a little girl, and you just know it’s going to come back to – well,
haunt is the wrong word as there are no spirits,
but you get my drift.
When she comes
back, of course there are a bunch of men who want to control her decision to
put her grannie in a hospital and offer to buy her house, including a judge
(Gene Ross), a doctor (Jim Harrell, d. 2000), and Claude (Larry O’Dwyer), a curator
of old houses. Luckily, she still has enough of Nick still wrapped around her
cute finger to get him to come and sign grannie into the hospital… if she lasts
that long.
Susan Bracken
As the
second act begins, Amanda starts receiving phone calls harassing her. Remember,
this is the period before you could see whose number was calling (barbarous!). All you see of the mystery
caller is a close-up of his mouth, or some of his face in silhouette. A half hour
in, it’s pretty obvious who is the mystery caller.
The old
“he’s calling from inside the house” cliché was pretty young at the time, and they
project that pretty fast, so I really don’t feel like I’m giving away much.
There’s also a bit of misogyny (again, the period) where the caller asks Amanda
to make “I’ll have what she’s having” noises on the phone. This is the
creepiest thing in the film for me, and made me uncomfortable. Much of the story
is kind of a comeuppance for Amanda, starting off brash and self-confinement,
and ending up, well, less so. This is also a theme that is dated, but if I can theoretically
accept the that-was-then of Katerina
putting up with Petruchio, I guess I can think of this as part of the culture at
the time (if this was released now, it would grind my gears).
Real, creepy dolls abound
As far as
quality of film, this one is a vast improvement from the first, from the way it
is shot using shadows and angles of the house to the benefit of the actions,
the editing is pretty hot, and some of the dialogue enjoyably sounds a bit like
the banter in those Spencer Tracey/Kathrine Hepburn films, giving a subtle
sense of humor. The reason I say this is because, in part, Amanda kinda dresses
the Girl Friday part, including the
Bob ‘do and make-up.
Even with
some of the same actors, the quality of the work is better, as well. The story
is more filled out (though there are still some big holes, such as her not
getting that the caller is seeing her, considering he is describing her actions
and clothing, so to look for holes in the wall).
Sadly, the
on-screen career of Susan Bracken (daughter of B-level movie star Eddie
Bracken, whom I’ve always enjoyed watching) didn’t amount to much, this being
her second and last film, but I would have been happy to follow her career. She
does well going from one extreme emotional stance to the next.
* * *
Don't Open the Door's more artistic look
The collection’s
commentary extra is for Don’t Look in the
Basement, hosted by film historian David Del Valle and genre filmmaker
David Decoteau. Along with interesting second hand yet knowledgeable stories
about the making of the film, they also discuss the genre of the period and the
effect of drive-ins on rural cinema culture. Normally I would not be very
interested in so many personal stories that don’t directly relate to the making
of the film, but in this case it really works because their connection to Texas
independent cinema and being able to take something very local and give it a
meaningful context. There is a bit of repetition, but overall it’s a good
conversation that doesn’t sound smug or talks down to the listener. It is
especially nice to have an explanation about the poem part relating to “little
men.”
Other
extras include the trailers for the two films, a collection of other grindhouse
coming attractions put out by VCI Entertainment (I am a trailers fan,
especially from that period, FYI), some deleted scenes from Don’t Open the Door of which about half
were rightfully taken out and the others interesting in context of the story,
and some handwritten production notes by the director.
What both
these films have in common is that on some level they both deal with some
insanity, and also its focus on what happens to a “normal” person pushed to the
extremes dealing with that intensity. While …Basement
is the more well-known of the two, I enjoyed both films; however …Hang Up was better overall for the
reasons I have been mentioning. As a combo package, it’s all the more bettah to compare.
Truth or Dare: A Critical Madness Directed, and written by Tim Ritter Sub Rosa Studios 87 minutes, 1986 / 2010 www.SRSCinema.com www.MVDvisual.com
Around the time VCRs came into fashion during the early to mid-1980s, the top two sellers / renters at video stores were porn and horror. This opened up a whole new genre of cinema, the made-for-video release. Most of the time these were shot on low budget, making some of Roger Corman’s films look expansive, on inferior quality stock and with actors who were, well, lets just say not exactly of Meryl Streep's caliber.
Director Tim Ritter was 18 or 19 when he directed this film, shot entirely on 16mm which gave it a grainy, ‘70s television feel (the main character driving a ’77 Firebird helps with that image; I kept expecting Dolemite to exit the car). The Chicago company that helped finance the project tried to take it away from him when they found out his age, but with a lawsuit, he retained "custody." In the meanwhile, they undermined him at every turn by changing plot points, actors, and even core storyline on second string shooting, making this an inconsistent mess as far as continuity, so the viewer must go beyond suspension of disbelief, and enter a land of no limits, to the level of Gilligan’s Island. A well-discussed point is that the main villain (there is no mystery on who the killer is from the first scene) keeps coming up with weapons out of nowhere, including machine guns, a (very fake looking) mace, a machete, and a large bolt-cutter.
Okay, that being said, if one is willing to accept the film for what it is and the period it was birthed, this is a fun popcorn-chomper. It really is a time capsule when the rules for straight-to-video product had not yet been written, and anything was possible. For this subgenre at that time, Truth or Dare is a fun ride almost because of the sheer ridiculousness of it all, and I do not mean this as a put-down at all. It is what it is, and this film is no better or worse than, say, 1978’s The Tool Box Murders (sans Pamelyn Ferdin, of course).
Lead nutcase Mike Strauber, acted at first as nerdy and rising to full insanity, is played by John Brace, whose previous credit is as a member of the Burt Reynolds’ Playhouse in Jupiter, Florida (near where this film was shot). His only other credit listed is also from 1986, which is an appearance on Cheers. Brace does some serious scenery chewing, but he manages to be one of the more professional actors in the picture; though I wonder how much he was actually there since during the last half he is wearing a full-face mask made of copper (wouldn’t that get really hot in Florida?) and his body shape and hair changes often, as his character is obviously being played by stunt people.
Most of the cast is amazingly amateurish, in a fun way, though. Raymond Carbone plays a wild police detective named Rosenberg who is obviously from the Chicago area (and a real ex-cop), Terence Andreucci plays the comic relief cop who is way too old and physically stiff for his part (it’s fun watching him try to crouch behind, say, a small rider mower), and Kerry Ellen Walker portrays a baffling hitchhiker (though her brief role soon becomes clear) who was obviously hired more for her cleavage, boxy figure, and big hair then for her acting talent (this is her only credit). And practically the entire Duff family makes an appearance in various roles (perhaps since the film was cast by Priscilla Duff?). I was especially laughing at the “teen punks” who were obviously in their overweight 30s. Then there is the wonderfully named actor Asbestos Felt, one of the only people in this film that has an upcoming credit.
The only on-camera cast-person who had a somewhat healthy career is Mary Fanaro, who played Stauber’s wife, though her many credits seem to peter out in 1999. Of course, there is an infamous cameo by a then-tween A.J. McLean, who would go on to have silly facial hair in the Backstreet Boys.
Perhaps because of the time period before MTV was influencing everything with music video style editing, or maybe it was that Ritter just didn’t really know what he was doing, the edits are kept to a minimum, with shots lasting much longer than one would expect these days, lingering in imaginative ways. For example, when Mike leaves his house after finding his wife in bed with her boss (hey, the first shot is of them in action, so no spoiler alert needed here), he storms out with his wife standing at the door. The camera stays steady on her back and the door as he storms out of frame for a few seconds, and then his car appears backing out of the driveway into the street. With such slow editing and pacing, more drama is built up. Sure, Sergei Eisenstein said that editing equals action, but in these days of 2-second cuts, this works by doing the opposite.
Yes, there is gore and appliance special effect, and some of them are well done, though most of kind of cheesy, of course. A majority of the action is done off-camera, such that the viewer will see the knife come down, and then the next shot the limb is already cut in CSI full gore. It’s rare to actually see the action itself rather than the aftereffect, and yet it still retains a nice blood-to-gore ratio.
There are a lot of enjoyable holes in the story, of which my favorite – even more than the mysterious appearing weapons – being that the police have trouble finding Mike, even though he drives around in his ’77 Firebird, wearing a full-face copper mask (surely a nod to Jason and the Shape), with his blinkers on throughout the whole film. And I won’t even go into him shooting three people at a bus stop with a machine gun while traffic continues to flow around him on a busy street.
There are some obvious comedy set pieces, as well as the unintentional, such as the use of the text crawl under the image of the Sunnydale Mental Institution, or the complaining neighbor who rants, oblivious to Mike loading up on weapons from the car.
The music deserves some comment: wow. Tacky ‘80s synth (usually one bar repeated over and over) for the tense moments, lame piano twinkling (probably also the synth) for the softer emotional parts, and the final credit song, “Critical Madness,” which is just, well, bad (in a fun way), sung occasionally on key by Kay Reed with the Church of Our Savior Choir (I kid you not), from Chicago.
There are extras on this DVD. Trailers for this and the next two (shot on video) Truth or Dare sequels (fourth is currently in production) – they look more like porn S&M tapes – and an interesting Behind-the-Scenes documentary, which is essentially Ritter talking over clips, like a commentary. And speaking of commentaries, there is a full length one by Ritter and a couple of the actors. Now, don’t go expecting a shot-by-shot analysis, but the conversation is pretty interesting about getting funded, the lawsuit, and the like, to keep it from getting dull (like any of the Farrelly Brothers’ or Kevin Smith bore-fest talks).
The word classic has been bandied about for this film, and in its way, it is. It was one of the first of a new direct-to-video genre, and while it’s far from perfect, it’s more than adequate if one is willing to take the step to just accept it for what it is. I probably won’t be the only one to say this, but: go ahead a get this film… I dare you.
This review was originally published in ffanzeen.blogspot.com.
Directed by Jack Hill Arrow Films MVD Visual 85 minutes, (filmed in 1964) released in 1967 / this version released in 2015 www.mvdvisual.com
I pride myself in my knowledge of
classic horror films, as I grew up watching them either in theaters or on
television. In that way, I’ve seen most of the classics, but due to lack of
distribution, Spider Baby, which was
shot in 1964 and finally released in 1967, is one I have missed; for years I have
wanted to get a gander. Luckily, the opportunity has arisen, in a bee-utiful restored deluxe edition.
A very, very, very dark comedy, Spider Baby
belongs more in the subgenre among the likes of the less than humorous Whatever Happened to Baby Jane (1962), Hush…Hush Sweet Charlotte (1964), Strait-Jacket (1964), and the similarly
black absurdity of Hershall Gordon Lewis’s Two
Thousand Maniacs (1964), where the maniacs that should be hanging out with
Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s
Nest (1975) at best, or Arkham Asylum at worst, are out running around,
with knives in hand.
Through a fourth-wall breaking
expository introduction and conclusion, we are informed about the Merrye (get
it?) family, who as they approach puberty, the older they get the more they
mentally regress to the point of violence and cannibalism (it’s not for nothing
that this film was also named at different points as Attack of the Liver Eaters and Cannibal
Orgy). Also, I’m sure the secondary title is a play on the 1965 film about
Jebbus, The Greatest Story Ever Told,
which was possibly still playing around in some theaters around that time, especially
in Dix-say. (Note: this is confirmed
in one of the included extras, which I saw after I wrote this part.)
We are initially introduced to the
Merrye clan through the eyes of a messenger, played by Mantan Moreland (he
infamously had a recurring role in the Charlie Chan films as the always
loyal-yet-scared helper who, along with Stepin Fetchit, famously said, “Feet,
don’t fail me now!”). Of course, it doesn’t end well for him, but his cameo is
sympathetic to both his career and the man as an actor.
The Merrye Children: Sid Haig, Jill Banner, Beverly Washburn
The isolated Merrye estate (on a busy
street in real life) is in sharp disrepair. They never explain where the money
came from, but it is certainly near the end of the dynasty. Poppa has died a
number of years ago, leaving the caretaker in charge of the remaining family,
since they are not up to it themselves. The oldest is Ralph, a rapacious lad
played by a young Sid Haig (!) who dresses like a little boy in rags, drools, leers
and snarls, but has already regressed to the point past speech, in some sense
on the level of the family dog. Haig, who always seems to be in the moment, has
had a long career, but to modern audiences is mostly known for his role of the
head of another killer clan in Rob Zombie’s House
of a Thousand Corpses (2003) and The
Devil’s Rejects (2005). The middle child is Elizabeth, who is obsessed with
the idea of hating and anger (“He’s gonna hate
you for that!” she spits out joyfully). She’s played by previous child star
Beverly Washburn, who Trekkers will know more from “The Deadly Years” episode.
The youngest sibling is Virginia, played by the very cute Jill Banner (d. 1982 in a car accident); rumor was that
the Beatles had a thing for her around this time. She is the title character,
named so because of her love of spiders – be it as pets, or as food. From her
first introduction onscreen it’s pretty easy to see you don’t want to be stuck
in her “web.” Even Peter Parker should be afraid. Oh, and in the basement are
their two aunts and an uncle who have regressed so far they are the cannibals
discussed earlier.
Lon
Watching over them all is said
caretaker / chauffeur named Bruno, and star of the film, Creighton Cha…I mean
Larry Talbo…I mean Lon Chaney (sans the Jr.). He arguably gives one of the most
heartfelt readings of the films of his later career. You can see his slow boil desperation
grow to a breaking point as it becomes harder and harder to control the feral
nature of these three young adults, that he called “The Children,” and the
current state of affairs.
Part of the problem is that some
distant relatives have come to claim their property, as technically they are
the next in line to inherit the Merrye fortune (from where?!), and they want to take position with the help of their
shyster lawyer and his secretary. The plan is to put the children into a mental facility and then sell the property for
development. Sounds a bit like an adult version of The Little Rascals, doesn’t it (“We gotta save grandma from getting
evicted, Stymie!” “Mmm-Hmm!”)?
The relatives are a brother and
sister, who arrive together. She is the voracious and greedy Emily, played by
Carol Ohmart, possibly typecast as a similar character from when she was
Vincent Price’s wife who takes the acid bath in The House on Haunted Hill (1959). At one point, she even wears
similar sheer night clothes with a black bra showing ample cleavage for its
day, stockings and garter belt that would make Bettie Page proud. It’s
dismaying to know that she’s a Tea Party Conservative in real life now (then
again, Bettie Page was a Born Again Christian for a large number of years,
though she embraced her past before she passed on in 2008). Then, even in her
40s, she was pretty hot.
The brother, played with laisse faire finesse in a suit and tie
is Peter, ambley brought to life by 1950s-sit-com-handsome Quinn Redeker. Peter
is fine with either eating cat (he guesses rabbit), or the children’s antics. He’s likeable and it’s no surprise that Ann,
the assistant to Emily’s lawyer, played by the lovely Mary Mitchel (yes, with
one “l”, who was married to the Assistant Director here, and would later do a
lot of behind the camera work for Coppola), goes a bit gaga for him; the
attraction is mutual. The last of the characters is the shady and, yes, greedy
lawyer, who is aptly named Mr. Schlocker. He is humorously embodied by the
diminutive Karl Schanzer (d. 2014), who helped director Jack Hill find the
moneymen and some of the cast; in real life he was a real-life PI!
The trouble truly begins as they all spend
the night in the old dark house, with people traipsing around looking for
clues, searching for things of value, and avoiding murderous intent. There are
a couple of gruesome scenes, but it certainly is a case of eat or be eaten,
both figuratively and, well…
Mary Mitchel wolfing up Quinn Redeker
Did I mention this was a comedy? My
favorite moment is at a dinner table where Peter and Ann are discussing their
enjoyment of the Universal classic horror films, and at one point they mention
the mummy, and it’s clear from the body language that they are not talking
about the Imhotep (Karloff, 1932) version but rather the 1940s Kharis (Chaney) ones.
Of course, they mention Frankenstein, meaning the monster, which Chaney played in
The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942),
Dracula which he played in Son of Dracula
(1943), and of course his most known character, The Wolfman [yes, Chaney is
the only one to play all four of the classic monsters onscreen]. What makes it
even funnier is Ann stops before actually saying the full creature’s name and
looks over at Chaney, who summarily looks up at an angle and says in a perfect Lawrence
Talbot worry-voice, “There’s going to be a full moon tonight!” I had to stop
the film and go, “wow!” and then realize that I haven’t seen Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein
(1948) in a really long time. Oh, and
by his mentioning the full moon, perhaps they were also covering the shadows during
the day-for-night shots?
I would like to share a special nod
and raise a glass of a Virgin Shirley Temple to cinematographer Alfred Taylor,
who does one of the more amazing lighting jobs I have seen in a black and white
film, arguably equal to Gregg Toland’s handiwork in Citizen Kane (1941). Taylor gives amazing depth to the basement,
the back ends of the rooms, and in the outdoor scenes. Some of the bootleg and
VHS copies are quite murky from what I understand, but this remastering is just
jaw-droopingly beautiful.
With Spider Baby taking on the American International Pictures style (Roger
Corman mentored Hill) and mixing it with the even more absurd (but not as
silly) The Raven (1963), over the
early years of its existence this film had been pretty maligned. But it is due
in part to bankruptcy of the producers and a legal issue with ownership of the
negative, which is why it didn’t play on late night television like some of the
others mentioned above. I’m not sure it would have been shown on television anyway
without being cut to ribbons by censors because this film is quite wonderfully
bizarre in its creepiness, and unique in its story, written by the director,
Jack Hill. He would go on to write and direct such exploitation classics as The Big Doll House (1971), The Big Bird Cage (1972), Coffy (1973), Foxy Brown (1974), The
Swinging Cheerleaders (1974, which received a big pictorial write-up in Penthouse), and The Jezebels (1975; this would arguably be an influence on 1979’s The Warriors).
Over the years, however, as these
kinds of things do, there has been an ever growing fan base (Marshall McLuhan’s
“Rear View Mirror Thinking”) that has come to realize what a stunning work of
dark fiction it actually is, and deserving of the praise it now receives. This notice has even taken its director, Hill,
buy surprise, as it was his first feature on a small budget of $60,000 (that’s $456,000
in 2015 currency).
This release abounds in extras. Not
in order of sequence of the menu, of course there is the trailer, but that is
only the breadcrumbs before the feast. There is an additional 30-minute black
and white short Western called the Host from 1960, listed as Sid Haig’s first
film. Looking like a cross between an old Twilight
Zone episode and a college film (it was Jack Hill’s student project), we
meet an escaped robber (Haig with hair!) who comes across a mysterious religious
Mission in the middle of the desert. He is called upon to complete a task, and
though you can see the ending coming, it’s quite well done.
There is a 33-minute panel discussion
(2012?) from the American Film Archive, who had a showing after preserving the
release from the original negatives. The panel is Jack Hill, Beverly Washburn,
and a bizarre turn by an interruptive and muddled Quinn Redeker. It’s funny,
fact-filled, and with Quinn’s part, a bit sad as he tries to tell a number of
stories about working with Chaney, but hardly ever gets there.
Another 2006 short is nearly 8
minutes of filmmaker Elijah Drenner (who directed “The Hatching of Spider
Baby,” discussed below) and Jack Hill returning to the since-restored Smith
Estate in Los Angeles, which stood in for the Merrye Mansion. We never see the
inside, but the tour of the grounds help you realize how creative they had to
be to make it appear isolated.
Getting back to the film, there is an
alternative credits (under the title of Cannibal
Orgy) and an extended scene as we all get to meet Schlocker and Ann. These
are more historical references than anything actually necessary. Though the
backstage stills collection is nice and telling, especially about Ohmart, who
looks like she’s not having much fun (the look she gives directly at the camera
made me shudder; in the commentary, however, Hill said she had a lot of fun).
The 11-minute “Spider Stravinsky: The Cinema Sounds of Ronald Stein,” focuses
on the man who composed the music to this and many other Corman films. It kept
my interest throughout.
The penultimate is a 30-minute, “The
Hatching of Spider Baby, or the Making of the Maddest Story Every Told,” with
interviews of most of the living cast, and other filmmakers such as Joe Dante. Not
dull for a second, this is what “Making Of” featurettes should be like: a little
bit technical, a little bit of anecdote, and a fast pace without being maudlin.
The cherry on the cake, though, is
the full-length commentary with Jack Hill and Sid Haig. One of the better
commentaries I’ve heard in a while, it really is a nice mix of filmmaking and
personality discussion. They are both open to express what worked, how they did
it, giving proper due to the cast and crew, being open about their reactions at
the time, e.g., Haig explaining how he had the flu during one sequence, making
it the hardest work he did in his then-45 year career (again, around 2006 when
this must have been recorded). It was also nice to have the English captioning
for when I was listening to this track.
I am definitely a convert to the
film, and will take pleasure in repeated viewings. I believe that says it all.
