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.
Written and directed by Giorgio Amato Jingai Films / Dania Films / Manetti
Bros Films 98
minutes, 2012 / 2014 www.mvdvisual.com
At
last, a new found footage film! Haven’t seen one of those in… okay, enough with
the sarcasm.
Closed Circuit Extreme is
an Italian film shot in English with thick accents (though I had no problem
understanding the dialog). Its premise is simple, if not overly logical.
A
man, David de Santis (Stefano Fregni) – as in “David of Satan” – is suspected
by a college age couple of being a serial killer, and of doing in one of their
friends. In order to trap this guy, they repeatedly break into his house and
set up a series of five CCTV cameras throughout, and then daily downloading the
footage (at his house…guess they don’t have Wi-Fi in Italy, ahem) while he’s at
work.
This
is a disagreeable couple. Daniele (Guglielmo Favilla) knows the danger they are
in, and Claudia (Francesca Cuttica) randomly touches and moves stuff, looks
through David’s drawers, all the while he’s yelling at her to stop. For once I
agree with the man in the story. Usually it’s the women who are more
even-headed. She seems pretty non-pulsed that they are in the house of someone
they believe has killed their amica.
The
entire film is edited from the CCTV images, which keep cutting in and out and
filled with repeated and annoying static noise. This is, I am assuming, to
remind the viewer that it is the CCTV they are watching, like anyone needs any
hints.
For
more than half the movie, we watch the possibly dangerous man as the eats in
front on the television, naps on his couch, and goes to sleep in his bed. Truly
the banality of evil, you might say.
Sporadically,
he interviews possible nannies for a child you never see, for him and a wife
you never see, and obviously neither exists. It’s well into the second half of
the film when you see David of the Devil for who he really is. His brutality is
shown in detail, with some nice physical effects thrown in, though nothing
really comes as any surprise.
Part
of the reason there is no bombshell is what the failing of the storyline is to
me: this is “police evidence,” so as we meet the characters there is an
on-screen blurb that tells you the name of the person, where they are from, and
the date they die (or not). This takes away much of the suspense, leaving just
the killings (etc.). Oh, this person dies. Oh, this one doesn’t die, we learn
on the introduction of everyone. Sigh.
The
scenes of brutality are few and far between, and the body count on screen is
pretty low. There is little gore per se, though we see a lot of blood on
clothes and body parts. In fact, this film could have been an hour and it would
have been enough.
The
extra is the trailer, but what I find confusing, is after the film between
minutes of black nothing, we see some silent clips of the film we just saw. Che cosa?
The
way in which the film is successful is that it really does show that evil is
just moments. Okay, here is a bizarre analogy, so bear with me. When you get a year-end
letter, where you read the exploits of someone you know, it seems like the year
was filled will events (e.g., “We went on vacation!” “I got a promotion!”),
when actually, most of the period was probably mundane and ordinary, when you
fill in the gaps. This film attempts and succeeds in showing that kind of “between”
moments, which makes the contrast of violence seem more shocking.
Where
it doesn’t succeed is, as I said, in TMI by broadcasting outcomes upon
introductions.
Rise
of the Black Bat Directed by Scott Patrick Tom Cat Films / Brett Kelly
Entertainment 80
minutes, 2012 / 2014 www.tomcatfilms.com www.mvdvisual.com
Around
the time of Batman’s first appearance in the 1930s (decades before I was born,
thank you), there was another character which was similar in a book called,
yep, the Black Bat. He looked similar to Batman, as he had the black everything
including a cowl, but without the ears, no utility belt, and a long black
leather coat instead of the cape (which seemed impractical to me, even as a
kid).
This
film is based on that other character, rather than the one we know so well. Mickey
Spillane-ish hard-boiled District Attorney Tony Quinn (Jody Haucke) is trying
to bring down seemingly untouchable Crime Boss Oliver Snate (Leo Frost), so on
the verge of getting the bastid,
Snate has Quinn blinded via an acid attack. With the help of some guy who for
some unrealistic reason has become his servant, Silk Kirby (Richard Groen) and
a revenge-minded socialite, Carol Baldwin (Dixie Collins), he goes to “the
Orient,” where apparently all medical staff is non-Asian. While there he has a
series operations. The result of all this is that he now has the power of sight
in the dark as green vision, which we
only get to see in use once.
Apparently
without any kind of training, he dons the black clothes, grabs a gun, and goes
after the bad guys.
You
may have noticed my snarky under tone in this. There is a reason for that:
simply put, this is a bad film. No, not “so bad it’s good” bad, just bad. The
acting is atrocious, that’s true, but the overall fault lies squarely on Trevor
Payer, the writer, and especially on Scott Patrick, the director. The dialog is
terrible; in fact, there were three separate places where I said what the characters
were going to say before they did. It’s that predictable. There are way too
many holes in the story, such as lack of training as I mentioned earlier, that
the people are unbelievable, and there is absolutely no sense of character
development, even with more exposition than action (mostly through first-person
narration in trying to sound like, well, Spillane).
The
film, which is a mere 80 minutes, with proper editing should have been about
half of that. For example, a woman is chased by two muggers down an alleyway
for nearly 4 minutes. There’s another scene where a shot on a nurse talking in
stilted dialog is seen in a (purposefully) fuzzy unedited one-shot talking to a
doctor and not really saying much for another few minutes. Then there’s the 80
shots fired in a short distance back and forth before anyone falls. And that
includes a machine gun.
There
is no nudity, but there is a
four-person bikini contest where they prance back and forth in front of the
camera for a reaaaaaally long time while the sound of clapping (obviously
looped as you can hear the break) is annoyingly constant. There’s also no blood
or SFX despite the occasional shooting, or even redness on the face or eyes of
Quinn moments after acid is supposedly thrown in his face. The only effects,
other than the cartoonish city overview during the credits, are the flash of
the gun muzzles and the sound of the gunfire repeated aud nauseum. Though there is the one time they miss it and the gun
just clicks, which made me laugh. No, it was not running out of bullets, because
the next shot fires as it is supposed to do.
If
this is going to be a franchise, I can tell you now that I am not going to
watch any of the sequels.
Isis
Rising: Curse of the Lady Mummy Written and directed by Lisa Palenica Tom Cat Films / Platinum Assassin Films 80
minutes, 2012 / 2014 www.tomcatfilms.com www.mvdvisual.com
That was no lady, that was your mummy! (Sorry…)
Okay,
just a few corrective notes before I get into the review itself. The myth of
Osiris is one of the most durable from all Middle Egypt, strong enough to
replace Ra (sun god) as the main religion of Early Egypt after papyrus was introduced
and could carry the story faster and further.
The Isis of myth
Osiris
and Isis were not just husband/wife and brother/sister, but were also twins,
the children of Nut (sky goddess) and Geb (earth god). Their brother was Set,
who was also married to his own twin, Nephyhys (absent from this film).
Director/writer Lisa Palenica does get it right that Set kills Osiris and chops
him into pieces, but Isis and Nephyhys find all the parts except one (yes, that
one), and after shaping a phallus out of mud, she is impregnated with their
son, Horus, the most popular god of the period (he has a bird head; the “eye of
Horus” is one of the most common cultural symbols to last the ages, along with
Isis kneeling with her feathered arms outspread). After Horus is – er –
created, Osiris becomes the Lord of the Underworld (not Hades, just death).
Unlike the prologue here, Isis is not killed. Hey, it’s the prologue, so get
over the spoiler alert, okay?
Osiris and Isis (Rai in a painted-on bra) of the film
Yeah, I’m a fan of the myth. Been to Egypt for
a college class and wrote a forty-page paper on the changes of funeral
traditions as the technology of the writing medium changed (from pyramids to
mastabas to papyrus). I’ve even stood in the Temple of Horus in Memphis, so I’m
going to be a little bit harder about the myth.
After
the prologue, when the modern story actually starts, we meet a bunch of
archeology students and their professors as they search for the “black magic” Book
of the Undead (filmed at the Mesa Museum in Scottsdale, AZ), which is also what
Isis is supposed to use to raise her dead hubby/bro and an army to take over
the world. This collection of students includes a couple of horndog jock surfer
type dudes (Michael Alvarez, Joshua DuMond), one of whom even wears his
baseball cap backwards. Really? Have you even seen an archeology student? They
don’t have time for that kinda stuff. Then there are their girlfriends,
including one with bleached blonde hair and lots of cleavage (the director of
this epic, of all people) and another who is slight and toothsome in a cute
way, and equally horny (Shellie Ulrich). Then there is the brilliant older but
horny Asian student (Jiang Song), and the shy but horny nerd (Robin Daniel
Egan). Mentoring them (i.e., using them) is the horny older professor (Randy
Oppenhiemer) and the handsome and not
horny prof-head-of-his-field (Seth Grandrud, during his best Fernando Lamas).
Add the lonely and horny museum curator (Judith Eisenberg), and the perv voyeur
(aka horny) security guard (“bear” porn actor James Bartholet), and you have
more hormones floating around that you would think to find at a research
project that would normally go to the top of the class, rather than the
remedial ones.
I
need to make a comment here, which I know should fall under the view of suspension of disbelief, but when one of
the students inevitably finds the Book of the Undead, it is an actual book, with a front and back cover,
spine, printed gilt letters on said cover, typeset text and equally sized
pages. Of course, this is not possible since books didn’t really exist in this
form until after Johannes Gutenberg’s press during the 15 Century,
in Europe, not Egypt. Papyrus was the mode of discourse when the story of Isis
and Osiris was spread, but at the time when they were supposed to exist, the best it could have possibly been was chiseled on stone walls. In actuality, since they
were beings from the beginning of time (not during the Middle Kingdom of
Egypt), there would most likely have been no writing at all yet. The Egyptian
Book of the Dead in its earliest form (Ra-inspired First Kingdom) would have
been wall carvings.
Okay,
I think I got that out of my system now, so I can focus on the film itself.
Thanks for your indulgence.
With
all the sexual tension and implied scenes, there is no nudity, and little bloodletting.
There are a couple of cool SFX of limb removals, and kudos for that (done
digitally, I’m certain), but the scene where a head is removed looked good
except for the edit in the film where it jumps slightly between the head being attached
and the head being detached. Still, made me smile.
Shellie Ulrich and a dude
Most
of the time, the writing is actually okay, but every once in a while, it totally
works, such as after one of the bodies is found legless. The acting here is
thin, but Ulrich comes out as the cream of the crop. She freaks out, but not in
a cartoon or wooden way. By far the best actor in the batch. Actually, Song
does pretty well, too. Among the worst? Well, Rai comes across as fake as her
boobage, but shhhh, we won’t talk about that.
Come
to think of it, I am wrong. The most wooden actor in the batch is the one who
plays Set (Wilman Vergara Jr.), who performs like one of the extras in an
Italian sword and sorcery film from the mid-60s. Over the top and yet emotionless
all at the same time.
A
large-ish central cast isn’t just blood fodder; it works better if the viewer
has some connection or care for a character. And some of the tones just need
some tweaking to help with that. I applaud that Palenica has a history of
having porn actors do straight roles, and I applaud expanding niche acting to
cover numerous genres.
The
only extra is the trailer, below.
As
time goes on, I get the feeling that Palenica may have a career. As well as
editing, I would also like to humbly recommend she AD under a more seasoned
director, even an indie genre one, and get another perspective. It could help
her grow. For example, I know of a singer who wanted to play guitar, and the
advice she received from a well-known, international musician, was to practice
scales, and ask any guitarist she met on tour to show her one thing, and one
thing only. By that means she has built up a series of moves that makes her a
tremendous guitarist now. I’m thinking Palenica could use that from other
directors to build upon. Then, hopefully… watch out!
On many different levels, this film is a bit of a turning
point for Dustin Mills Productions. Up until now, the releases by director (among
other titles) Mills has either been a horror comedy or has strong elements of
humor. This film is different in that it is serious, from the first minute on.
There is still a few (meant to be) moments of uncomfortable titter, but this
film is done straight.
Essentially, this is a four-person piece, at least three
of them we get to see full frontal, but I’m getting – er – ahead of myself. Of
the foursome, three have appeared in previous Mills productions. The newest is
Allison Egan (not to be confused with Brit actor, Alison Egan). The first shot starts
right off with her in the altogether as Olivia, the girlfriend of the
soon-to-be-skinless titular character. As with many of Mills’ female cast
members, she’s tattooed and looks like she could beat the shit outta you and
enjoy it, but remains attractive. Her character has little back story, but her
screen time is limited, so onward.
Returning for a third time is Dave Parker, also known as
the horror vlogger, MrParka (yes, one word). He was in Easter Casket, and also Bath
Salts Zombies as an addicted stoner, but in this more serious role, he does
fine. His role of Neil, who controls the money to be meted out to scientists in
order to insure profit for the shareholders, is pivotal, but again, not much
screen time. Parker looks a bit young for the role which he is portraying, but
I’m okay with that (like I deserve to have a say, right?).
Erin R. Ryan
The female lead is Erin R. Ryan, who also starred in
Mills’ last film, Easter Casket. She’s
still-full-skin Pete’s roommate Alice, and less-than-secret love interest. She
is also a scientist and is, in fact, research partner with him. Ryan is an
attractive woman with a firm jaw and is capable of being both strong and
vulnerable in the same scene.
Pete Peel (really? Peel?) is the protagonist anti-hero,
strongly played by Mills’ hetero-life/work-partner and recurring lead actor,
Brandon Salkil. Petey is looking for a cure for cancer because his shoulder has
a ridiculously large melanoma (looks like a silver dollar sized hole). Not sure
why the girlfriend, Olivia, never noticed it. As Nirvana once said, “Oh well,
nevermind.” The important thing is that he’s on a literal deadline to find the
cure, and he thinks he may have found it in a worm whose secretions melt, well,
you know. And despite threats from Alice and Neil, I don’t think I’m giving
anything away (read the title of the film) by saying that he injects the
experimental serum into himself.
So far, the story is going along strongly, we’re somewhat
emotionally tied to the two lead characters in a star-crossed lovers way, and
you just know the big bang is coming. And as always, Mills does not disappoint.
Brandon Salkil
From here, though as enjoyable as the film is, and it
truly is, there is some resemblance to Cronenberg’s version of The Fly (1986). First healing strength leading
to the body disintegrating yet still strong, twitching, bodily fluids to melt
food and people, and of course the love interest trying to reconcile with the
whole thing. While Cronenberg had a budget of $15 million, Mills does damn fine
with a few thou and opens it up in ways that are new, partly by slowly closing
the story into a tight knot.
Let’s talk about that last part. One of the things I
truly like about Mills’ work is that he knows how to make a small budget go a
long way. For example, nearly all of this film, with the exception of one
scene¸ takes place in a single house, and mostly in the attic and the basement.
This works well with giving the mild yet palpable feeling of claustrophobia, a
device that syncs well with what is happening to Pete, as his world gets
smaller.
Everything feels increasingly intimate, with a large
percentage of the dialog between the two leads, Pete and Alice, the Invisible Man style
clothes and mask Pete wears, and much of the surroundings being quite bare and
stark. I’m not sure if it was budget constraints, the house they managed to get
to for the shoot, or a director’s choice for mood, but it works.
There obviously isn’t a very high body count with a cast
of four (though if you look at it in percentages, that’s another story), but
the gruesome effects for all involved is incredibly enjoyable. Sherriah Salkil
(Brandon’s spouse who also contributes to the films in various roles) and Mills
do a great job with the make-up. It looks way better than the budget implies,
and I would say this filmmaker’s best gore effects yet. Still stringy rubber
innerds¸ but the blood and masks look way ahead of past films, and that’s
saying a lot considering how accomplished they looked before.
Since this is a Mills film, there must be a discussion of
the one thing that is recurrent in all his releases: puppets. He keeps it down
to a minimum, being a worm, a dog (or what’s left of it), and melted bodies. Sure,
the dog looks similar to the one in Bath
Salt Zombies, but it kicks butt (or bites leg?).
If there was any one complaint on my part (as I am wont
to do), it is that when Brandon wears his mask, it is sometimes hard to make it
out. If a bigger budget was on the table, I would say re-dub the voice.
The visuals are quite compelling. The editing is tight,
the cinematography sharp (and HD), and even the lighting is solid. And the gore
level is high and sticky. Mills has a talent for making fake blood (too many
films are the wrong color or consistency), and he is not afraid to apply it.
The one true piece of comedy that appears in this film is
over the credits, in the song “The Ballad of Skinless Pete,” by Mike Fisher, an
inappropriately folksy ballad that is the opposite of the metal shards that
usually accompany a Mills release.
Microbugets can either put a crimp in a film’s style, or it
will present the opportunity to be creative with what one has. This film
definitely falls into the latter category. That being said, if you’re a band
and you need a music video and can pay for it, or just want to support the
genre through an up-and-comer, checks out Mills site above and help finance his
next project, called SpiderClown. I
am already anticipating it.
Most
of the time when the world “Hillbilly” appears in the title, the film may be
fun, but it tends to be a bit on the silly side, especially in this genre. For
example, there’s Hillbilly’s in Haunted
House (1967), Cannibal Hillbillies
(2003), and Hicky: The Hillbilly Vampire (2014).
This one, however, is very serious, despite a few moments of mirth that peek
through.
We
are introduced to the titular Carl Henry Jessup in a wraparound by a granddad
telling this “based on a true story” tale to his three gran’chillrin. It should
come as no surprise that the favorite food of Jessup (Paul Respass, d. 2014) is
“long pig,” aka human flesh. After all, as someone says to him in the film more
than one, “Your bloodline is cursed, Carl Henry.”
To
be served on a plate, all you need to do is be someone he doesn’t know and show
up on his property, poachers, or if they just piss him off, such as date-rape
the woman who is his half-sister.
The
main part of the story has a retro 1970s-‘80s grainy, washed out look with pock
marks and scratches, reminding me a bit of part of the classic slasher Mother’s Day (1980). As we look deeper
into the mind and thoughts of Jessup (which we hear in an overdub), there are
flashes of arty camerawork and editing that elevates this to more than just a
typical slash a burn (or cook) slice-em-up.
Early
on, we meet the zaftig Rae Lynn (Theresa Holly), Carl Henry’s deep blue eyed
neighbor and half-sister who cooks for Jessup. Whether she knows what (or who) she is cooking is unclear for a while. On some level, Jessup
loves her, but not as much as his moonshine or his “daddy’s special” gravy.
She’s also the only one who can stand up to him without fear. And it’s pretty
obvious that she has a much deeper hankering for him, but he’s “kin.” Instead,
she takes a shine on their dumb-as-a-stump moocher friend, Billy Wayne (Chris
Shumway).
Poor
Carl Henry really misses his Momma and evil Papa, and is willing to sell his
soul to bring them back “alive and in the flesh.” Even though he recants his
wish, is that possible, and how much of it is “real” or in his mind? What about
the drunk ‘billy roaming around throughout the story (played by the director),
and how does he fit into the story? Of course, secrets are going to be revealed
and violence will ensue.
The
gore is aplenty and looks great, though the blood is occasionally too gooey.
I’ll forgive that since everything else looks so good (e.g., real pig
intestines were used). The editing is superb, and the throw-back look works
well.
Part
of what makes this enjoyable is that Montalvan gets such good performances out
of his actors. There is the occasionally moment of woodiness, but mostly they
manage of embody the characters, or more accurately, let the characters embody
them. The three main leads are especially strong. Paul has Carl Henry go from
raging to befuddled to scared (about making his pact), to nostalgic and annoyed
in the wink of an eye without being confusing or seeming to give conflicting
messages. Shumway has his way with being creepy in a very subtle manner.
Theresa is also well versed in creating mood without saying a word. The scene
at the table where Billy Wayne asks her out, you see her face go from flattered
to “what the hell am I thinking” to sad as she looks longingly at Carl in an
entirely natural and fluid way that is a joy to watch.
Even
without the supernatural aspects, this would be a good film. That being said,
it does add a touch that makes it differ from most backwoods slitters. In fact,
this low-budget exercise was more enjoyable to me than the more popular Jug Face (2013), another backwater
bloodbath with a mystical message. In other words, this was even better than I
expected. Thanks!
Lots
of juicy extras are included. Yeah, three different versions of the trailer is
great, and I say that without a whiff of sarcasm, but the centerpiece is the
hour-long Making Of documentary titled “Gutting da Hillbilly Butcher.” Most of
the cast is interviewed, including most of the crew, who discuss the aspects of
their contribution to the project, as well as how it was working with the film
as a whole. The director shines a light on many aspects including that part of
the production was shot in his back yard in Pasadena (the rest in a busy nature
preserve). Even some of the neighbors are talking heads here, a nice choice.
However, it is S.E. Feinberg, who played the narrator of the wraparound that
steals the show. I’m going to have that “Gimme that Long Pig” song stuck in my
head for hours now.
Also,
there is a 30-minute Internet interview with the director and two leads, on
“The Horror Happens Radio Show” hosted by Jay K (www.horrorhappens6.wix.com/show).
The cast is on camera via computer so you get to see their reactions and hear
lots of stories. It’s a nice addition, especially with Paul (possibly the last
piece of film of him) being beardless and looking quite different and non-menacing.
More
than once during these extras, Montalvan mentions an earlier short film titled Razor Blade (2012), which is also
included. It’s experimental, reminiscent of Luis Bunuel’s Un Chien Andalou (1929) in visuals and editing, and a bit of
content. Montalvan definitely has an eye for the arty side of horror.
As
for The Legend of the Hillbilly Butcher,
stick around until after the credits, by the way…
When
dealing with a horror anthology, I understand the need for a wraparound story,
or some usually humorous and/or sexy host to present it. Think Rod Serling in Night Gallery, or Elvira. This
collection of indie shorts is presented by three RV trailer trashees: backwards
cap wearing and fully bearded everyman Bo, mumbling professor Cephus, and the “smo-kin”
Daisy Duke/ripped tee-shirt clad Lulu. The box cover makes it look like it’s
going to be lascivious, but this group is pretty PG, television ready rated
stuff (even with the slight hint of stereotypical cousin incest).
Perhaps
it’s because it’s the first hour-long version of this “Hee Haw meets Creepshow” (the
PR description), but I didn’t find much personality with the trio here, as
with, say, Ollie Joe Prader or Larry the Cable Guy’s crowd. Pretty harmless,
though, but not as funny as the writers seem to think it is. Hopefully that
will improve, especially with the hype and commercial attention this is
getting, and I’ll hopefully be watching future episodes to find out. And I know
there are at least two more in 2015.
The
first story, “Franky and the Ant,” is a pretty solid crime/revenge tale that is
well acted and written, though it borrows quite liberally from the film (not
television version) Fargo (1996). It’s
short and sweet. This is followed by an insane slasher piece called “Amused.” We
watch a woman being chased through very The
Shining type weather. I saw the ending coming early on, but it was still –
er – amusing to watch. The actors all seemed committed. That’s part of why I
love indie films.
An
interesting piece of animation that cuts to the bone is “Doppelganger,” which
is reminiscent of one of my idols, Ray Harryhausen. I found this one especially
disappointing despite the excellent stop-motion photography.
Clearly
the centerpiece is the final short, “The Nest.” We meet a mother and son that
run a remote diner in farm country, who have a bit of a twisted relationship
(no, not that kind). Known for their award winning honey, the duo is at odds
with the local government man (a decent actor who is totally too young for the
role) and rancher. The latter sets up a series of events that does not end well
for nearly anyone. This is by far the best of the batch, and is well done from
beginning to end, including some nice effects (though the gore level is at a
minimum, which is actually true across the board in all the films). My only
comment that could be taken negatively is to question why it is called “The
Nest” and not “The Hive.”
I
can certainly see it as a series and I would enjoy watching it, getting the
opportunity to see some decent indie shorts. As with any anthology, there is a
mixture of quality, and this is no exemption, but it is (in my humble opinion)
a fun way to spend an hour.
I’m
surprised they didn’t use the Sly & the Family Stone song: “It’s a fam’ly
affair…”
The
film is co-written by husband and wife team John Jarratt and Cody Jarratt. It
stars John and his son (from a previous), Charlie. It’s produced by Winnah
Films, an Aussie production house owned by John. Oh, and did I mention that
John is also known as the killer in the classic Outback thriller / slasher that
quickly rose to fame called Wolf Creek (2005)?
Supposedly he doesn’t like horror films, but his association with them is
definitely strong.
But
as far as families go, let’s not stop there. The central focus is on another
father / mother / son combo. John Garratt plays a dad who is just out of a
lock-down rehab after seven months where he was incarcerated against his will
for his many vices (alcohol, prescription drugs, gambling, and anger
management). His wife (Angela Punch-McGregor) is on the run for fear of her
life, along with their university age son, Damien (Charlie Jarratt).
In
the words of Noah, “It’s gonna rain,” and pour it does, leaving this trio
stranded at an isolated gas station / restaurant at, yep, Savages Crossing [side note: I am not comfortable with this
name, as I think it refers to the indigenous people of Queensland, Australia,
where it is filmed; perhaps my sensitivities have been raised since the whole
“Redskins,” etc., names have been under scrutiny of late.] Add in a couple
of young women on a road trip (Sacha Horler, Rebecca Smart), the cowboy owner
of the station and farm around it (Craig McLachlan) , and restaurant manager /
cook / wait staff (the fetching Jessica Napier, who I doubt is any relation to
Charles Napier of Russ Meyer fame), and obvious future love interest. Then there is the crooked cop with nefarious
motives (Chris Haywood).
The
basic premise of a group of strangers trapped in an isolated location such as a
restaurant, with a murder (or more) is hardly new. Who is on the side of “good”
and who is on the side of “bad” is always in doubt, and that’s part of the
paradigm as well. The question is, what do the Jarratts do with it that makes
it their own?
I’ll
be honest, I didn’t find many surprises in this as nearly everything is telegraphed.
There is a mild twist at the end, of course, and it’s not the most brilliant,
but I will say it is effective. That being said, I was pleasantly surprised at
the level of suspense that is managed to be brought to the table of this oft
told tale.
For
me the biggest suspense, however, deals with a topic brought up by Carol J.
Clover in her brilliant book, Men, Women
and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film (1993). This film proves
part of her theory, that in slasher movies, the men are, well, stupid,
especially the “heroes.” You knock the bad guy out, you don’t just leave them
you asshole, you tie them up, especially after they’ve proven they are not afraid
to kill anyone. Especially when…
well, I don’t want to give too much away. In another scenario, a couple being
hunted hides in a place that not only has only one door (in the direction of
the person hunting them), but it has a wall made of chicken wire (in the
direction of the person hunting them).Damn. That’s just a couple of examples.
The
acting ranges on a wide scale. Being his first role, Charlie has a bit of
training to do. However, both Horler and Jarratt senior act the pants off the
rest, especially in a key scene they have together in the third act.
The
only extras at two trailers, including one for this film.
The
monster(s) in this film is the human kind, but it wears many skins and styles.
It’s a good film with some mild blood and no nudity, so while you may not want
to choose to watch it with your elderly auntie, it’s pretty safe for most.
These exploitations seem to go together
for a number of reasons. First of all, they’re supposed documentaries about
real bands that are not your average run of the mill groups. Second, they both
came out around the same time. Third, they are both award winners of dubious
prizes. Finally, the odds at success for the bands are a bit farfetched. Other
than that, these two groups are worlds apart, as are the styles of the film.
And enjoyment levels.
The Lost Realities of Hog Caller Written, directed and edited by Tom Richards TPR Productions Wild Eye Releasing 85
minutes, 2011 www.wildeyereleasing.com www.mvdvisual.com
This “found footage” mockumentary
about a grindocre duo called Hog Caller is a nearly psychedelic ride into the
backwoods of Middletown, PA, home of Three Mile Island, and apparently Osama
bin Laden. Who knew?
With just a little too much fondness
for pig heads and David Lynch’s Eraserhead
(1977), this real (?) band of two lunatics live out in the woods. A local
television reporter, Skip Jenkins, is doing a piece on “Where Are Hog Caller,”
and has apparently bought a box of video (yes, VHS) tape home Hog Caller
movies, and we watch them interspersed with Skip, and a whole mess of messed up
crap.
Words used to describe this on the
box include “Repugnant” and “Sickest,” and yeah, it is that. Lots of pig bodies
and disembodied heads with flies flying around them are shown in various stages
of decay. One little one is dressed in a bonnet and hauled around as if it was
a baby, on a playground swing or getting ice cream by one of the Callers.
There is also something about a guy
in a bad rubber George W. Bush mask (actually supposed to be Bush) giving money
to a way-too-short guy dressed in Arab garb with a very fake beard (an obviously
blond dude), who has a shooting camp just outside of town where the targets
have pictures of Jesus and Mary in the middle of them. Yep, it’s designed to
offend more than succeeds in being funny. I wasn’t offended, and didn’t find it
funny, either. Just too obvious. Osama is taken out by one of the Callers who
is out huntin’.
Everyone here has only this film to
their credit, but I’m pretty sure that’s because most people use fake names
that one could call Moe’s Bar with, such as Phil Morehole, Stinky Puscadero,
Brenda Paxil, Emily Zoloft, Sandy Seroplex, and Suzy Jihad.
Lots of drug mention/use, lots of alcohol,
lots of fast editing, many dead animals, and little of anything else, such as
story (again, the Eraserhead homage).
But the problem with the film isn’t that it’s “repugnant” and gross, which it
is at times, the biggest issue I have with it is actually the same one I had
with Eraserhead: it’s pointless. I
don’t mind weirdness, and I don’t mind psychotropic filmmaking, but at least
keep it interesting.
I’m not sure if Hog Caller is an
actual group, but for the purposes of this film, they are the duo of Tom
Richards (bass and vocals, aka the Dirtfarmer, aka the director of this film)
and Steve O’Donnell (guitar, aka Vomitrocious). The instruments and vocals are
fed through a synthesizer to make it into noise. They call it grindcore. Okay.
There are also a lot of real animal carcasses (mostly pigs). The gore that is
shown as bodies are chopped up toward the end, are obviously some of the animal
parts from the animal butcher shop where the rest of the carcasses are bought.
Extras are the trailer and a making
of documentary.
All in all, I found this more
annoying than disturbing, and equally boring as gross. I am annoyed because I
feel like I just watched two guys masturbating for 84 minutes in their own ego.
Tight Written and directed by Shaun Donnelly Mind Engine Productions Wild Eye Releasing 114
minutes, 201X www.wildeyereleasing.com www.mvdvisual.com The band (left to right in picture
above: Tuesday Cross: bass Alicia Andrews: drum Monica Mayhem: vox Bree Olson: manager Layla Labelle: guitar
I have seen this described as both a
documentary and a mockumentary, and that’s just on the same DVD cover! And yet,
they both feel accurate.
Porn actress Bree Olson tries her
hand in “reality” filming. Mixing the biz she knows and the idea first fomented
through the Monkees, she enlists four of her colleagues to form an all-girl
pornstar rock band. Most of the women knew their craft musical before (albeit
somewhat limited), and in Micky Dolenz fashion, Alicia Andrews learned to play
the drums just before joining in the group.
From there, it starts to feel like
most other reality shows. The four women are put up in a house together so
tension can both build through familiarity (remember, pornstars tend to be
grown on body image and ego) and induced situations. Here, they have five days
from forming to their first performance. The first piece of armor scratching
comes when Monica Mayhem wants to rehearse (i.e., sing) no more than three
hours a day to save her voice. This is actually not far off standard, but it
causes a supposed ruffle in the band while the other three bond without her.
What I would have done is sing the three hours, but stay with the band while
they rehearse to form a collective, rather than stay home. We don’t see where
the decision not to be there comes from, be it from Monica or the producer(s)
(Olson).
During that first gig, where Tight
are told they are going on first rather than headlining (well, duh, they’ve
only been together for five days, and the now-headliner is fellow pornstar and
more established awful pop singer, Brittaney Starr), it feels like a planned
set-up to see their reactions. During the gig, Monica tells the bassist,
Tuesday Cross, to flash her ass, which she does. They then show an insert of an
interview with guitarist Layla Labelle (and her lovely Montreal accent)
rightfully saying, when up on stage they should separate the band from the
porn. This is thrown out the window as by the second show Monica is shown
singing topless.
There is a lot of nudity and sex
(sometimes from porn shoots especially, and a supposedly spontaneous scenes that
seem way too…convenient with a camera going a foot in front of the action) from
everyone involved. The sex is all hard softcore, i.e., no male body parts shown,
but does not shy away from it or give any indication that is it faked). Which
brings me to this topic: this is not a horror film, so why is it on this blog?
Well, for a number of reasons, but specifically because this is not limited
only to blood and gore, but also to exploitation and sexploitation as well, and
this definitely fits into those two categories, especially since it is an indie
production. True, I had to look just about everybody up to find information on
them, but hey, it’s all in the line of duty, right?
So, speaking of formulated situations
to get reaction, Olson brings her sex-obsessed and Ichabod Crane-like cousin
Joel as Assistant Manager. He’s a creepy guy who likes to see Olson on-location
filming sex scenes while eating sardines from a can with his fingers, who is
brought into the producing of Tight’s first music video. Naturally, Olson goes
and leaves the guy (real or a written character, I’m not sure) there to foster
more angst among the group. This just feels too fabricated and planned, but at
the same time it’s like an accident where you can’t avert your eyes. If you
decide to see this, I guarantee you will utter, out loud, “ewwww.”
Brittaney Starr, in a totally see
through top and looking a bit worn, shows up at a rehearsal tells Tight they
sound “rusty.” Again, this feels like Starr and Olson planned this to rattle
the women for the camera.
An ill-fated tour to Denver strands
the ladies with lots of misadventures and a solo bubble rub in a tub (again,
does not feel spontaneous). To make some money, of course there’s some porn
filming. Shouldn’t Bree, as their manager, send them some cash? I’m beginning
to wonder if there is a more hardcore version of this planned? Will I see it?
Nah, but I’m curious to know if I’m right. For me, that’s one of the biggest
issues about the video is that all the sex is so unspontaneous, and most of the
situations they are put in feel scripted. There are some moments that feel
real, like Layla being mad at Tuesday for whipping her with her studded belt buckle
when Tuesday is wasted. It is almost like she doesn’t know how to express her
anger because it feels real. A lot of the other anger that is expressed,
though, I don’t know if it’s normal band-on-tour-tight quarters kind of stuff,
or triggered by things that we don’t see, or there is someone off-camera
saying, “Okay, you and you fight this time.” The line between real and script
is sometimes easy to see, and sometimes not as much.
Lots of mayhem (pun unintended) as
the ladies drink and slug it out both figuratively and literally, leading up to
a record producer hearing them play on day 37. What happens then, you’ll have
to see, but it’s pretty clear.
But, you are probably asking, this is
about an all-woman pornstar rock band. How are they? Well, I have certainly
seen a lot – and I mean a lot worse
over the years. The playing is rudimentary, the songs are kinda repetitive, the
vocals are okay, and, well, they’re not bad though not great. Considering we
follow them together for the mere 37 days of this shoot, and they have their
first live gig within the first week, it’s actually pretty impressive. I don’t
think they could go anywhere on just
being a rock band, without the gimmick of their other life, but yeah, they’re
decent.
The closest I have come to the
reality of this is seeing Penthouse Pet of the Year Cheryl Rixon front a band
in the early 1980s or so. That was pretty good, but she was helped along by her
co-Australian bandmate, who used to be in the Easybeats (“Friday on My Mind”).
Tight don’t have that option (that we see).
There are lots of cool extras
including many deleted scenes which
are enjoyable, a couple of music videos, photo shoots, multiple trailers for
both this film and the wonderful Wild Eye Releasing, and so much more.
So, this m/d/ocumentary smacks of
reality TV, including the incidental music and pacing, but it sure beats out
some of the other fakes, such as Honey Crap Crap and Duck Shit, whatever they’re
called.
