Review: Accidental Incest

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015

Images from the Internet

Accidental Incest

Directed by Richard Griffin

Scorpio Film Releasing

102 minutes, 2014 / 2015
www.mvdvisual.com 

Richard Griffin is a trans director. No, no, what I mean is that he readily and easily moves among various genres and sub-genres. And although he has remained somewhat auteur, he rarely keeps his feet on solid cinematic ground. For that, we, the viewers, are lucky. That I'm reviewing two of his films in two separate blogs in a row rather than combining them says something.

For the most recent, Accidental Incest, Griffin and writer / collaborator Lenny Schwartz (an award winning playwright!) delve into the broad bedroom sex farce. It’s quite extreme, but probably no more risqué than, say the absurdist budoir comedies of Tudor-period France, or Chaucer’s the “The Wife of Bath” in its Medieval days. That is to say, this is fuckin’ risqué, Jack!

When we first meet our two self-proclaimed douchebag anti-hero protagonists, they are performing acts of narcissistic revelry, for which they must pay in some form or another. They are unhappy with their life situations, but not necessarily with their lifestyle choices, which would fit in well in any sex(y)-addict group. After each survives a near-death experience and meet some cool and attractive guardian angels, and then their marriages finally dissolve with a bang not a whimper, they find each other in a seedy hotel hallway. It is lust and love at first sight. But there is a problem they eventually learn, which the title makes obvious.

On the relatively masculine side of the equation, there is Milton (a nice, Jewish boy we learn), played with wide aplomb by Johnny Sederquist. He makes the Sean character from the television show Psych look like a mellow dude. Whatever the gender, whatever the drug, whatever the experience, he is there, and ready-willing-and-able. You can just tell Sederquist is having a blast in this role, and embraces his character wholeheartedly. He sort of reminded me of a living emoticon, with all emotions in the extreme, eyes always fiery happy, excitedly surprised, or even when sad.

The Yin to his Yang is Kendra, with Elyssa Baldassarri embodying her wild and crazy ways with abandon. Comfortable in her birthday suit (as was much of the cast), her zaftig form looks lovely on the screen (again, as was much of the cast). Baldassarri, who is playing her first leading feature-length role, is an attention grabber (in a good way), wearing Kendra’s thoughts and emotions on her face, looking seamless and organic, which tends to be troublesome for some when playing comedy this broadly.

One of the aspects of this film that I found refreshing in so many ways is there are a number of twists and turns that I just did not see coming, bringing huge smiles to my face. In other words there are a number of WTF moments, but it still works in this case because, like having all those clothes on Gilligan’s Island, you learn to accept the unexpected as it comes, even as it surprises you outta your skivvies.

As always, and to no surprise, however, is Griffin’s way with the look of the film. While giving a nod to photographer Jill Poisson (also for her work on many other Griffin’s releases), the pace of the film never lets up, and that is due in part to Griffin’s editing. It really is a joy ride (in this case be it roller coaster or Tilt-a-Whirl) that never lets up.

While the two leads are both interesting and fetching, there is a very large cast that is very generous with their talents and bodies throughout. For example, Jose Guns Alves, who tends to play tough characters from ghetto-style exorcising priests to soldiers, acts against form as “The Anxious Man” (as the credits list him), showing a humorous and non-threatening side, despite the murderous actions of his character. Also against type is the usually loveable Jamie Dufault, who is perhaps a bit too comfortable looking being a sociopathic …well, I won’t give it away. And the lovely Tonya Free was spot on as a conflicted love interest for one of the menagerie of crazies we get to meet.

Filmed guerilla-style through Rhode Island, home of Scorpio Releasing, there is still lots of set pieces where there are little, imaginative touches, such as the use of framed album sleeve covers on the walls. I noted Frank Zappa, Roxy Music (Country Life), Tom Robinson Band (Power in the Darkness); Josie Cotton (rare 12” single of “Johnny Are You Queer”; I have this one), and Soft Cell. Also the choice of using both black and white and color is a strong choice for a purposefully powerful albeit comedic film.

In James Clavell’s Shogun (the novel from 1975, not the Richard Chamberlain tele-film), the reader is introduced to Japanese society, showing local lords to be powerful with control of life and death of the peasants, and yet by the time we get deep into the story, we realize that the lower lords are nothing compared to those above them. Why bring this up? Well, when we meet Milton and Kendra in their solo openings, we are presented (among others) M/F anal sex, adultery and affairs with druggies in Mexican prisons, and it’s shocking. But as the story progresses, much like Clavell’s book, we find these two to possibly be arguably the sanest people in the story. Power-crazy Christians, people locked up and treated like dogs, an obsession with a strange choice in a film star, and soooo much more are just part of an ever increasing insanity level.

The original name of this film was Accidental Incest: The Musical (a wonderful extension). While not a full-fledged musical in this version (perhaps a future Anniversary re-release?), in three different occasions, a character bursts into song, including a hysterical rap by God (Aaron Andrade, in a cool, polar opposite role from his turn as a hyper-soldier in 2014’s Future Justice). And Jesse Dufault, who was spectacular as NuWave in 2014’s Sins of Dracula, has already proven he has a decent voice.

Two quick notes: be sure to catch director Griffin doing a silent Hitchcockian cameo as a bar patron about an hour in, and there is a throwaway joke at Adam Sandler’s expense that almost made me want to say, “Oh, snap!” (but I didn’t; I’m not cool like that). Oh, and did I mention that there is a lot of nudity from various genders including full frontals and full – er – backals?

If you were to chart Griffin’s films on an X-Y axis, with his slasher-comedy Murder University (2012) being the median, this film would be as far to the side of outrageous comedy as the dead serious and excellent Normal (2013) would be on the opposite spectrum. I’m not sure that makes sense, but it works for me.

While mostly true for the male characters, there is nothing stopping the swapping of genders as a point of desire. Even with the occasional Seth Rogan-esk slur, such as “fudgepacker,” it’s generally acknowledged that people are sexual beings. However, I believe there does need to be some equal line-crossing on the female side; I’m not one of those who get off on watching lesbianism, but it’s only fair to make it even, doncha think?

And with that last paragraph in mind, I have a fantasy that this film would play in every single screen in Indiana, Arkansas, Florida, Louisiana and Texas (at least), with mandatory viewing from the locals. Then I’d like to see Bobby Jindal, Mike Pence and Ted Cruz have to act out some of its scenes (I’m thinking the one’s with Kevin Killavey as Tool). That would be as much exquisite fun as this film.

* * *

Postscript in May 2016, as I had reviewed the VoD version and acquired the DVD later:

I finally had the opportunity to check out the commentary track, which is filled with about a half dozen people, such as the two leads, the director, the writer, and the producer. Other an an occasional overmoduation (i.e., a buzz) when they all laugh at the same time, it was quite an interesting conversation full of information, as well as stories. Everyone was respectful and not over-talking each other, thankfully. Enjoyable from beginning to end. 

As a personal note, it was great that the director referenced this very review (through quote, but not by name, which is totally fine with me) about Johnny at the almost 6-minute mark. Thanks, Richard!

Review: The Killer 4 Pack: The Day of the Dead; Jezebeth; Carnage: the Legend of Quiltface; Hellweek: Grindhouse Edition

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

The Killer 4 Pack

SGL Entertainment
358 minutes, 2014
www.SGLentertainment.com
www.mvdvisual.com

SGL Entertainment is a relatively new releasing company that has purchased a few dozen films, and is now releasing them. They also are starting their own franchise called Jezebeth, the first of which is included in this collection.

The Day of the Dead

[aka El dia los muertos]
Directed by Ricardo Islas
Alpha Studios
106 minutes, 2007
www.thedayofthedeadmovie.com
Not to be confused with the George Romero …of the Dead franchise, the title here refers to the November 2nd Latino holiday, where the dead walk the earth. This is certainly a good film to start off this collection. It has a professional look, it has depth, and it has a message. Actually, a number of them.

Venezuelan-born director Ricardo Islas shot the film in Chicago and Joliet (about 45 miles apart), focusing in on a gang of five (three males, two females) who get their kicks by brutally killing homeless women. This isn’t a “wilding” kind of thing where people are picked randomly, they are methodical, smart, and “take their time,” as a coroner says. Also, most of them are white.

Their newest sights are on an illegal Mexican woman, Ana (Rosa Isela Frausto), who is desperate for work as a domestic, to get money to go home as she does not like the big city. When they focus in on her, well, you know it will end badly.

Islas takes his time with the story. We get to meet the characters, to get some degree of history of Ana, so when things go wrong, we feel a degree of loss, unlike most slashers where everyone is there merely to meet their end, and their deaths are only considered collateral damage. Here, even as the death metal blares and the perpetrators are reveling in their bloodlust, some pity is felt for Ana. We also feel for the lead detective in the case who is going solo lobo, the lovely Carla (Christina De Leon); she gets in a bit over her head.

The film has a gritty urban feel, reminiscent of majors like The French Connection (1971) or Death Wish (1974). Streets are dirty, alleys have stagnant water, and buildings are brick blockhouses, giving us a Taxi Driver (1976) tour. It feels like the ‘70s all over again. And each of the three acts is almost their own genre. For example, the first is a bit like a slasher film, the middle a detective story, and the final, well, let’s just say it’s a revenge story. Each has elements that overlap the others, so the feel is organic (unlike, say, Kill Bill: Vol. 1 [2003] and Kill Bill: Vol. 2 [2004], which are completely different genre styles).

The one fault I could pick on is that someone breaks a pair of handcuffs on a piece of stone. Not just the chain, the whole thing falls off at once. That would not work with tungsten steel, the material ‘cuffs are made of these days. But hey, if that’s it, we’re in good shape, y’knowhadimsayin’?

Not just a crime drama, and not just a horror film, not just a revenge tale, Islas also has some social commentary mixed in on both a blatant and subtle level. Filmed during the incompetent GW Bush years, there is discussion of illegal immigration and the effect on those immigrants (Bush’s “reuniting families” speech is shown for the farce it is), white power and privilege, how uncommonly high the assault and rape statistics for women are in the Latino community, and the lack of city, state and federal funding to help through community centers. But he doesn’t just go the easy and too common road of Evil = Whites, as two of the murderous group are women of color (one is a bi-asthmatic), even though the three males are white and racist (yet the white leader is in a relationship with the Asian woman).

One would think with so much going on, both blatant and subtle, from violence to social messages, this would be a mess or at least too preachy. In the hands of other directors, this could be a strong possibility, but here, Islas handles it with a level of mastery, despite the low-albeit-not-micro budget.

Jezebeth

Directed by Damien Dante
The Phoenix Group / Satania 666 Films
SGL Entertainment / R-Squared Films
80 minutes, 2008-2011
www.jezebeth.com
It’s an interesting premise from the start: a young woman from a questionable past worships the devil, invokes a demon possibly with the same name as her (though a male voice is used), and becomes a Goth, death metal guitar wiz, sadist vampire.

This film is the centerfold of this collection, as it is not only directed by the owner of SGL Entertainment, but there is also a sequel with two more in the works after that, a comic book, a record deal, etc. That’s some pretty big plans.

Quite beautiful to look at, with a mix of black & white and color, intense editing, weird angles, and loud music, in fact, much of it feels like a series of death metal music videos, with some story in between. Song by bands like Slam Bang, Grigori 3 and Supermercado feature heavily, along with others. There are also some musicians playing themselves, such as drummer Gregg Potter – who tours with the Buddy Rich Band even though he looks like he’s in the Chesterfield Kings – and Wolf McKinney. Pin-up model Baby D. Frost makes an appearance as herself as well.

Okay, I’m digressing, so let’s get back to the film: Jezebeth lives in a house with a group of women, most of who hate her and want her out, and one who is her S&M slave. They all dress in black, have dark hair, and pale skin. Jezebeth, played by the toothsome and attractive Bree Michaels, often wears full-face white make-up and black lipstick. Did I mention Goth before? What holds these women to this place is unclear, and how they make a living is unmentioned. It’s hinted that they grew up together, but only a suggestion. It’s a mystery left as such. It certainly can’t be a religious affiliation, though one is indicated as being a devout Christian, because they curse like a motherfucker (yes, including the Christian).

This truly is Goth heaven (pun intended), touching on many of the principles of the subculture, some mentioned above in the first paragraph of this review. There’s lots of lace, black matt clothing, cemeteries, blood, death, demons, and vampires. But suddenly, and gratuitously, there’s a long scene in a Chicago strip club for absolutely no reason, as we watch five dancers do their thing with a pole. Hunh? Is stripping Goth? That’s a new one for me.

As for said vampires, there are two, and apparently they are unbothered by the sunlight, not even needing sunglasses. Sure, this isn’t the first film to use that premise, but I thought Goth was kind of 19th Century based (hence the “Gothic”), when vampire fiction became popular. Musing aside, it’s an observation, not a criticism.

As films go, as a whole it’s a pretty picture. Sure the black and white is blue tinted and probably should have been more effective as sepia, but it’s still has a flair to it. As far as story and acting goes, it’s a mess. There is no coherency, no character development (including Jezebeth), and no need for half of the visuals (e.g., the lengthy clips of people standing around as music plays).

Sure, one may think, oh, maybe it will be explained in the next film, since this is a pre-planned franchise. Well, considering Jezebeth is played by a different actress in all three films listed, and the second one is a Mexican-Western-Motorcycle glom called Jezebeth 2: Hour of the Gun (scheduled to be released this year; trailer HERE), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENIdXB05D_g I’m going to doubt clarity is the focus as much as marketing.

I’m going to guess that I’ll probably never receive another SGL release after this.

Carnage: The Legend of Quiltface

[aka Carnage Road]
Story, produced and directed by Massimiliano Cerchi
Rounds Entertainment
70 minutes, 2000
www.roundsent.com
Starting with the standard genre set-up to introduce us to our killer, a guy in a mask and onesie with a machete, we meet a couple out in the desert near Las Vegas which is obvious since the woman is wearing a t-shirt that says as much. She’s a tough woman with tats, and while he plays horny, he also comes across as a bit, well, fey. Nevertheless, as is par, they get it on (to porn-type music), so they die in a nicely done scene, though the camera is purposefully albeit unnecessarily shaky.

Shot on video (pre-HD), this is honest in not trying to look like film; perhaps at the time the technology had not caught up to that, or was not yet affordable as it is now with MacPro. It does have a nice, clear look, though, and I’ll happily give it that.

All the classic kids-in-the-elements (woods, caves, or in this case, dessert) tropes are here. The comic relief who gives the back story, the old guy (who can sometimes also be the back story teller), the tall (albeit very thin in this case) masked killer with the big knife who seems to be able to not be seen by the protagonists when standing up in a clear field, usually with the shoulders back, feet spread apart a bit, and the hand with the knife held out at a 40 degree angle. And where does it say that is it necessary for women to trip when running away? Of course, my big question is, if you get the better of a killer for a moment, why not pick up a rock and smash the fuckin’ guy’s head in, rather than run away?

In this version, rather than campers, we have four not-too-bright college students who are out in the desert taking photos (film camera) for an extra credit class assignment. All the shots they take, essentially, are of themselves smiling and posing next to each other, like every other damn shot you see. If I was their prof, I would fail them, whether they survive or not. Not even landscape or close-ups of desert foliage – I mean, the desert is a beautiful place, and lord knows this film could have been about 10 minutes shorter if some of the walking / running through the dirt roads was trimmed – instead of them just standing together and smiling. I was waiting for the modern, ever-present “v” sign.

How smart is this group? They are to spend the day in the desert – dropped off in the morning to be picked up in the evening – without taking any water, any sunscreen (the women are in shorts), or any food. All they have is one camera bag and the camera. Period. Shit, they deserve to die just to project the human race from them reproducing.

So, there is the lead, very pretty, super-blonde couple, Robert and Linda (Dean Paul and Molanee Dawn). When she’s not whining, she seems nice. Cute, anyway. Dean Paul, who has an assumption that he’s the “leader” of the group, is a sniveling, domineering bully, and yes, whiny. Along for the ride are two classmates. One is the whiny and kvetchingly spoiled Amy (Melissa Brown) who is vain and thick, and would rather look in the mirror and whine than be there. And last is super-nerd Mike (Sean Wing, who has gone on to have quite the relatively successful career since this), who is presented more like Rainman than merely geek (i.e., the pre-Big Bang Theory stereotype).

Now that I’m through being whiny myself, there are actually positive things to say about this film. For one thing, it has some really good humor it in. No, I mean purposeful laughs. For example, the character of The Driver, as played by Mack Hail, is a hysterical scene-stealer from the moment he comes on to the screen to the time he leaves. There are also quite a few throwaway lines that I had to back up to make sure I heard right because they were so humorous.

For a film that’s made with a single camera, it’s put together quite well. Yeah, there’s the occasional sound galumphs here and there, but it also causes a change in the theme of the action. Ever since Sergei Eisenstein, who during the silent era said that editing = motion, there have been quick cuts; but with one camera, it takes a bit more work to keep up some kind of pace with long, static shots. Cerchi makes it work, thanks to the efforts of the editor, Ed Polonia, of the infamous Polonia Brothers.

Quitface’s mask appears a bit more like rubber than human leather, but it still looks great when you finally get to see it close, made up of stitched faces. There is minimal nudity and some blood, but emotions are actually a bit more realistic than in most films. At the end, Paul, who sounds like a screeching weasel through nearly the entire third act, is believably scared. When he’s hit on the head, even though there is hardly any blood when the head actually bleeds like a motherfucker in real life, he acts woozy, stumbles along, and looks exhausted, rather than unrealistically shaking it off and carrying on. Kudos for that.

Cerchi (and the Polonius Brothers, for that matter) make micro-budget films, and even if the stories can be a bit cliché, they retain a level of fun that still make it worthwhile to sit on the couch with some buds and Buds, and have a hoot. But make sure you listen to those throwaway jokes. They’re worth the attention.

Hellweek: Grindhouse Edition

Directed by Eddie Lengyel
Fright Teck Pictures
102 minutes, 2009
Don’t let this film get confused with the 1981 Linda Blair classic of bad cinema, Hell Night, even though the premises are pretty similar: Pledge night at a frat, but rather than going to a haunted house to roam around in the dark for most of the film, here it’s a frat party that goes to a supposedly haunted abandoned warehouse (probably for clothing, because there is a sign leaning against the wall for Perry Ellis). Evil things wearing masks, as we learn early on, are afoot there.

The central character, who from early on you hope is going to die a slow and glorious death, is JJ (overacted by Rob Jaeger), president of the frat which I believe is never named. Throughout the movie people repeatedly call him an asshole, and he is. Thing is, if he isn’t in the scene, people are talking about him. I mean, he’s blond, he calls people “nigga” and “faggot,” and he cheats on his girlfriend Cara (the very comely Karen Fox) while she’s in the same house. Wadda douche.

Despite a couple of really nice, digital deaths early on, this film takes a really – no, I mean really long time to get its gore groove on after the initial metal-on-flesh. Some of the women go to a psychic who warms them of cheating (yep, JJ) and peril. Then there’s a stretched out party scene where we get to know a little about some of the characters that are fodder-to-be, and yet we still are given no reason to care about them.

One thing this filmmaker does that I genuinely find amusing is that he sometimes addresses odd things people in the audience might say, such as one character stating, “We just went down the stairs and now we’re going up?!”

While no subsequent kill is as good as the first batch, our supernatural villains do not want to be disturbed, and of course, nothing annoys supernatural villains more than frat shenanigans. Actually, considering some of this batch, I don’t blame ‘em.

The film itself has an interesting look, with pockmarks and discoloration like it was shot on film and left underwater for a few days. Sometimes it looks great, sometimes it’s a hindrance, but either way it’s a nice touch. Also there are scenes that are kind of dark, or happen too fast (flash of seeing a disembodied head, for example), but there is also come nicely done creative editing otherwise.

If the film had lost the entire 20 minute frat party scene at the end of the first act, it would have not been any loss. If the bickering between Cara and Hayley (the equally cute Michelene Pancoe) was not such a repeated focal point, that would have been okay, too. Cara had enough trouble dealing with JJ, so who needs the extra angst?

In total, it’s not a great film, but it definitely has its glorious moments.

Day of Dead

 

Jezebeth

Quiltface

Hellweek

Review: Normal

Text by Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films
Images from the Internet

Normal
Directed by Richard Griffin
Scorpio Films Releasing
89 Minutes, 2013
www.scorpiofilmsreleasing.com
https://www.facebook.com/NORMALTHEMOVIE

And it is no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.

2 Corinthians 11:14

Many directors it seems, especially ones known for releases generally having some level of humor, at some point want to make a “serious” movie. Most, such as Woody Allen with Interiors (1978), are arguably not successful (it was a beautiful film that critics loved, but it bored audiences). Director Richard Griffin had tried this before with much more success with his bleak, black and white noir thriller Exhumed (2011), which I rated as the best indie film I had seen that year.



Sarah Nicklin and Michael Reed

Taking a step into even darker material – albeit this time in color – Griffin once again joins forces with his Exhumed leads Sarah Nicklin and Michael Reed, only this time with Reed as the focal point rather than Nicklin. But as with most films that pair them, they are some form of a couple, such as in The Disco Exorcist (2011).
Let me say, as a straight Ally, Reed is one handsome fella. Luckily, he does not really need to rely merely on that as he is also one damn fine actor. He plays Jim, who owns a run-down apartment building in Boston (he even drives past the Citgo sign, giving me fond memories of The Rat[skeller] club, but I digress…), apparently co-owned with his brother, Tom (Nathaniel Sylva giving a solid and emotional performance). Jim is also the not so handy superintendent, unsuccessfully able to fix fluttering hallway lights or thermostats, thematically matching his mind and moods, perhaps. Now, his brother is pressuring him to sign away the building to be sold for his own – yet understandable – reasons we come to learn. So, poor Tom is feeling quite some pressure in his life.



Elyssa Baldassarri and Michael Reed

Along with his brother, there is also strain from a number of the tenants who desperately seem to want something of – not just from – him through some form of affection and attention, including both genders (yes I know gender is more than binary, but let’s move on). Through flashbacks and verbal hints, the viewer learns some of the key secrets of the story at the end of the first act, but that certainly should not have you give up, but rather put a little additional jam on the toast, if you will, because the ride is just getting more interesting.

The tenants and a couple of visitors are part of what makes this film so… disturbingly curious. For example, there’s Reed’s companion who often comes and goes named Shelley, played by the amazing… Sarah Nicklin. That pause is because I was going to call her a Scream Queen, but honestly, you can tell she can play beyond the genre. Let me further say, as a straight Ally, Nicklin is an attractive woman. I’ve seen a few of her films, and when she and Reed have scenes together, there is definite magic as they play off each other so well.

The mysterious Michael Thurber

There is also a married couple (Monica Saviolakis and Rich Tretheway, who just keeps getting better in every film I see him in), two women who almost remind me of the twins from The Shining (1980), amusingly named April and June (Samantha Acampora  and Shannon Hartman, respectively), the older man who has a crush on Jim (David Erin Wilson), and a woman constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown (Elyssa Baldassarri, also giving an extremely strong performance somewhere between pathos and scarred; I’m looking forward to seeing her first lead role in Griffin’s latest, Accidental Incest: The Musical, which was just released, and soon to be reviewed here). Then, of course, there is the mysterious stranger, sharply portrayed by Griffin regular, Michael Thurber. Thurber can sometimes be over the top when he should be, in comedies like Future Justice(2014), Dr. Frankenstein’s Wax Museum of the Hungry Dead (2013) or The Sins of Dracula (2014), but when he hunkers down to serious roles like here and Exhumed, man, is he a force to reckon with.

Samantha Acampora

Griffin’s sense of the scene, placement of the camera, lighting, and mood are impeccable. There’s one shot of Tom leaving a bar with the soon to be full frontal Patrick Keefe, which is so well done, I actually backed it up to watch three or four times, with each viewing I noticing something different. From the dull, yellowish lighting to one that is bright and glaringly stark white to show, again, state of mind, the direction is nearly a character in itself.

While the symbolism runs higher than usual, unlike with, say, Interiors, it never gets in the way of the story, a fault that tends to run in those trying to make “art” instead of a good film. There is a reason why so many quality actors flock to and then stick around for other Griffin films, because (a) it really looks like they are supported by the director, (b) the roles are juicy as get-out, and (c) he makes quality films. There is no other director I know who is this prolific (18 full features and a few shorts in 11 years) and retains the high level of quality.

Helping along of course is the writer, Lenny Schwartz, who has penned a couple of Griffin’s other films, including the above mentioned Accidental Incest. Schwartz has a very sharp sense of humor, a touch of the deranged, and knows how to tell a story. I mean, if he can give away key plot points a third of the way through and still not have it be anti-climactic, that really is saying tons.

One would be hard pressed to call this a splatterfest, and blood is kept to a minimum, but its presence is more meaningful than your average killer film, but that’s because Normal delves us ore into what makes one do terrible things, and yet manages to keep us in suspense, as a thriller should.

As usual, Schwartz and Griffin play with cultural gender roles, with no character necessarily being 100% anything other than themselves,  and giving the audience enough credit to accept that. As it should be. Just playing with the theme of what is normal and what is “not” can be taken on many levels here. Sure, there is the mental question, but where does that line fall, and more importantly, who is to say what is “normal?” Greenwich Village? Indiana? Fangoria? Me?  

There are a bunch of points I would love to discuss about the ending here, but won’t for obvious reasons. Let’s have some tea, and we can talk.

Review: Motivational Growth

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Motivational Growth

Written and directed by Don Thacker
Parade Deck Films / Imagos Films
104 minutes, 2013 / 2014
www.mvdvisual.com

When we meet Ian Folivor (Adrian DiGiovanni) – whose last name could possibly signify “folly” or “fall over,” regarding a scene early on – he hasn’t been outside his apartment in 16 months. He has no job, has no ambition, and has no life, really. The three strongest things in his existence are the literal and existential mess he’s living in, the Commodore Cabinet TV that he has named Kent and he considers his best / only friend, and his deep and dark depression. We meet him as he blankly flips through the channels of this imaginary October 1991, and then Kent finally goes kablooey. Enough is enough.

After some machinations that I won’t detail, he finds that there is a huge mold growing in his bathroom that not only has teeth and a mouth, but talks to him. The Mold (the voice of indie horror icon Jeffrey Combs) sounds like Robert Stack and talks in Noir detective story metaphors that would make Mickey Spillane either smirk or wince.

When things start to – er – normalize with Ian and The Mold, The Mold tries to snap Ian out of his stupor, to shave and clean house, and to make a play for the hottie next door, Leah (Danielle Doetsch) who appears to be almost as nutty as Ian. Actually every character in the film has a bit of a screw loose, from the landlord’s enforcer who asks questions and then yells “Shut Up!” before Ian can respond, to a television repairman who licks the big screen of the TV. But something even weirder and possibly sinister is up.

The dark comedy in this story may not be for everyone, but it sure worked for me. I can see elements from so many other films, but the off-kilter tone and over-the-top characters (and sometimes purposeful hamming strongly reminded me of a 1989 classic that I believe may not have ever been released on DVD called Dr. Caligari. 

One of the ways Motivational steps on convention is to have Ian talk directly into the camera, not only to explain what is going on in his head, but for exposition as well. At the oddest times, he will stop an action, or just take a step back and face the audience, and talk about his life, both before and during the present moment. At first this is a bit surprising, but that passes quickly as the viewer gets into the rhythm of the action. I mean, there’s a talking fungus, so it’s not like there is any kind of suspension of disbelief needed, thankfully.

The most obvious comparison, story-wise, is probably going to be the MTV film from 1996, Joe’s Apartment, where a lonely guy is desperate for the girl next door and is aided and abetted by thousands of singing and dancing waterbugs (aka, American cockroaches; the small ones are German Cockroaches, FYI). But I say, unlike what’s going on in the music industry, the stories may have similar themes, but very different approaches. Here, the humour is less over-the-top (and musical), and more cynical and cinematically blasphemous, which gets a gold star in my book.

The Mold kind of reminds me of Audrey, the plant from Little Shop of Horrors (either 1986 or even the original 1960 one), as the puppet monster seems benign but it’s pretty obvious we just have to wait it out to find out the real purpose of its presence, but of course you know it isn’t everything it claims to be, and a whole bunch more of something else.

The whole pathetic guy adoring the girl next door and creature who may be for or against it are elements is also reflected in a film that came out about the same time as this one by director Dustin Mills called Night of the Tentacles (2013). But what this film reminds me of the most is a story from 1891 (you read that right) by Ambrose Bierce called “The Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” one of the great and dark early Modern Era short fiction. I’m also sure some reviewer is also going to bring up Jacob’s Ladder (1990) and a few others with similar themes.

Despite all the references, there is quite a bit of exciting elements here, and I want to make sure to note that. Along with the breakdown of the wall between the main character and the viewer (yes, I know you can bring up The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show [1950]), the intermingling with Ian and the television programs, and occasionally turning the entire film into an 8-bit video game, it’s actually the combination of all of the above that, along with the acting talent and sharp writing, that make this a fun way to spend a weekend or evening.

While there is some gore, it hardly tops just how disgusting the living room is, never mind the bathroom. Then there is the multitude of green and syrupy vomiting from our less-than-intrepid Ian. DiGiovanni does a superb job producing different shades of Ian’s moods, from nearly catatonic to excited like a puppy, to shock and disgust, and anger. His conversations with The Mold are exceptionally funny and full of clues. For example, The Mold will only call Ian “Jack,” but insists on being called The Mold (and always refers to itself in third person). The shows the power dynamic between the two. However, it’s Jeffrey Comb’s reading of The Mold’s script that keeps the film on the edge of possible rewinds with “What did he just say?!” Actually nearly all the characters give verbal hints throughout, and rewatching makes an “Oh, there it is again” head nod for clues you may have missed the first time around. As the object of desire, Doetsch easily holds her own, with Leah just being quirky enough to be adorable, but not creepy. And they are merely the tip of an extremely large cast for an indie, all of whom manage to make their characters unique.

There is, of course, a whole metaphysical element that I could go into with analysis, but won’t because it would contain too many spoilers, but let’s just say that I figured out what was going on pretty early on, but it did not matter. I still sat through this joyride twice, and enjoyed it both time. Why? Because The Gary knows, indie fan, The Gary knows.

The extras are two trailers, a photo gallery, English subtitles (thank you ) and an excellent commentary track with the director, DiGiovanni, and Combs, who tends to talk over the other two.

Review: Collar

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Collar

Written and directed by Ryan Nicholson
Unearthed Films / Plotdigger Films
77 minutes, 2014
www.unearthedfilms.com
www.mvdvisual.com

Especially since Hershell Gordon Lewis, there has been gross-out flicks meant to shock as much as entertain. This is a bit different than transgressive cinema, which is both political and “art,” but what I’m talking about is merely meant to make most viewers uncomfortable for the gotcha factor. For this subgenre of brutality, the godfather would have to be Day of the Woman aka I Spit on Your Grave (1978), though the more recent turn of the screw game changers are Saw (2004), Hostel (2005), and especially A Serbian Film (2010; reviewed HERE), the latter arguably being the one to top.

Lots of directors are testing these waters, such as Bill Zebub (though he does it often with comedic elements, which almost seem oxymoronic, e.g., Jesus Christ, Serial Rapist [2004]) and Dustin Wayde Mills (with fare such as Her Name Was Torment [2014]). This is also Ryan Nicholson’s realm, with films like as Collar.

This piece of work has been blasted by a number of viewers and reviewers, but I’m going to take a different approach of this, because as I have said in previous blogs, one does not look at a film like this in the same way one may look at a larger budgeted SFX-driven mainstream release, like, say, The Cabin in the Woods (2012) or Final Destination (2000). It is not fair to use the same judging scale for Sharknado (2013) as one does for Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992).

The story-line actually is not as simplistic as these kinds of things usually are, and many elements play out, such as the villain, Massive (Nick Principe) and his back story, the cop Dana (Aiden Dee) and her backstory that also plays into this one, the hooker Maria (Mihola Terzic) and her family and relationships, two scummy hipsters (as they are referred to in the film) who get their jollies playing people against each other and filming it, and other various denizens of the hard street life.

One of the problems with this many divergent stories and the lack of either text editing or budget (or both), is that there are certainly many holes, such as: what happened to the police car? Didn’t the two cops report where they were going? That’s just two. Still, I would like to foster this larger storyline thinking than just someone tied up in a place and being tortured, and that’s essentially it.

Nick Principe

Except for the two main leads, a lot of the acting is a bit wooden, or goofy, and at other times it’s the best that can be gotten from the script; in a case like Momona Komagata (as Rachel, the mondo grosso gravida girlfriend of Dana), you just know in a different film there would be more serious acting and less hamming.

The best performances here are by the two principals. Principe’s Massive is effectively terrifying. With a backstory of childhood abuse by a priest, he takes his mostly silent role and makes him one scary sumbitch. I wonder if his having slightly Arabic looks adds to the subliminal fright. Shaving his head with a piece of glass, or switching moods between blank-faced assaulter (or, as that great philosopher Bugs Bunny might have said, “a ment’l case") to utterly terrified little boy while remembering his past, Principe manages to get all that across barely saying a word. And the fact that after all his brutalizing he still manages to occasionally get a feeling of pity from the viewer shows that the chops are there.

Aidan Dee

As Dana, Dee is not just all plush lips, deep blue eyes and eyebrows that won’t quit, she makes her character vulnerable in so many ways, including being brave with extreme nudity and ultraviolence. If you can make it through her brutal treatment in the first five minutes of the film, which reminded me of a scene from Irreversible (2002), you should be able to handle the rest.

The third character is Maria, a secondary role that transforms over the length of the film. German-born Terzic plays her a bit like she’s stoned much of the time, and that could be the role. But there is room for growth there, it seems to me.

One of the biggest controversies about this film is about the many detailed rape scenes. Sometimes they may be called for in a story, such as with Two Women (1960, for which Sophia Loren won the Academy Award), the revenging I Spit on Your Grave, or its practical remake Demented! (1980; with Harry Reams, RIP). Then there are the gratuitous ones, such as in the otherwise excellent Street Trash (1987), for which I am strongly opposed; I became embroiled in a somewhat heated dialogue with its Associate Producer, Frank Farel, at a private screening over the scene). For this film, I can understand Nicholson is trying to make a point about Massive’s (and others’) brutality, but it goes beyond what is necessary, in my opinion.

I will say that what kind of annoyed me more was lingering shots over the bodies of the women’s victims as they are brutalized, focusing in on breasts while those parts did not have anything to do with the event happening. This is a bit too much real-life rape culture mentality. You want to focus on body parts during a gratuitous shower scene, fine, but during a violent act, it sends a different message. I also realize that the majority of the audience is teenage boys, but remember that teenage girls are starting to get interested in genre films, so why discourage/alienate a growing market?

One aspect I found strange was that the titular device is seen occasionally in the film, but isn’t used until at least the middle of the third act, but isn’t really a central part of the story and tends to be removed easily because no one’s hands are tied. It’s more symbolic than anything else.

Moving onward, I actually like the look of the film, and found that especially impressive. It felt as grimy as it looked, with nearly everyone looking realistically physically filthy, dark and dank. The editing is sharp and the lighting, albeit dark, is appropriate and gloomy. Let’s just say Vancouver is not going to be using this as a vacation marketing tool. I haven’t seen any of Nicholson’s films before, but was captivated by the possibilities that are showing through. I would like to see him have someone help with his scripting and text editing, and encourage him to forge ahead, perhaps with more men in sexual danger, to balance out the sheet.

The extras are a stills gallery, and just under 10 company trailers. I wish more would do this with trailers, as it seems to have fallen off the DVD creation board as more are moving to VoD, but that’s for another blog.

 

The trailer is HERE

Review: Fetish Dolls Die Laughing

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2015
Images from the Internet

Fetish Dolls Die Laughing

Directed by David Silvio
z-Diet-3 Productions / Kiss of Death Productions
World Wide Multi Media (WWMM)
100 minutes, 2011 / 2012
www.facebook.com/Fetish-Dolls-Die-Laughing
www.mvdvisual.com

The premise is simple: the creature your parents always invoked when you were a wee one as they tickled you (“It’s the tickle monster!!”; I’ve done this, myself, to my wee ones) is an actual demon that transports from body to body, much like the one in Fallen (1998). You can tell the possessed by the red eyeliner, pale skin and yellow teeth, not to mention the evil giggling of the host.

Now, as a confession, this is not a joyous thing for me as I am hyper-ticklish, much to the dismay of loved ones who I won’t let touch me that way. The last time I punched someone was in junior high, when the much larger kid behind me in line would not stop poking me in the ribs, which for most people is ticklish, but for me is painful. After asking him to stop a few times, I lost my temper, and punched him in the jaw. It was seen by my classmate’s mother who worked in the lunchroom (she, like her son, would later become a principal; RIP Mrs. Daub) and I did not get in trouble for it, but the other kid did.

Point is, most people will see this as a – er – laughing matter, but the terror that is being struck in the story is a bit more palpable to me. This actually made me happy because it added another layer to the onion, as it were.

And you may wonder, how does this deranged demon kill? Well, along with the tickling, he also rips out your innards, with lots of blood and some gore, or as the story goes on, methods of  disposal of  course ramp up. So, of course, the fiend tends to transfers into males, so we can get the great and curious title of the film.



Laura Romeo and Michael McGovern

The first half of the film is a bit convoluted with many different deaths and multiple directions involving not only our happy monster, but other deaths as well, such has by hatchet, leading to an extraordinarily higher than usual body count. This also gives us a chance to be introduced to some of the key players.  Of course, this is also a set up for the action to come in the third act, as we learn the lead cop, Greer English (well played by Laura Romeo) is sort of a Dirty Harriet (or pick-a-TV-cop) who tends to put her own life in danger by going rogue and solo, to nab a killer. You know that’s going to turn out badly, since this is a genre film, and “you don’t need a Weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”

A nice proposition is that the tickle monster (or is it Tickle Monster?) invades the body of someone who runs a fetish film company along the lines of W.A.V.E., for those who remember that New Jersey-based company (whose specialty included various fetishes, SM/BD, torture, and tentacles; no I don’t own any of their features) from back in the ‘90s, which introduced some amazing talent, such as the underrated Tina Krause). If you are into fetishes like feet, tickling, plastic wrap bondage, and a host of others, of course, there may be other reasons for watching this.

There is an extremely large cast (including many Italianos), topped by four characters. There is the lead cop, the aforementioned English, and her partner, the love-jealous and borderline sexual harasser Leland Tucker (Angelo Bruni, who looks a lot like a ‘80s Lenny Kaye, right down to the haircut), English’s love interest Adam Bishop (Aaron Bernard), and the possessed wacko fetishist killer, Billy Tagg (Michael McGovern). Now, all due respect meant, McGovern is a decent actor considering his lack of screen credits, but I do find it hard to believe the amount of women way out of his league who throw themselves at him (i.e., victims). Even his late wife, Tanith (Diana Silvio, the director’s spouse), who ran the fetish website which Bill takes over, is quite bosomy and fetching.

There is a lot of sexual tension, attractive women, short skirts, and displays of fetishism, but surprisingly no visual naughty bits. Yet Silvio makes the film kind of weirdly sensual and sexual without it. Again, tickling or feet aren’t my things, but watching other peoples’ out of control lust is fascinating, in the words of the late, great Mr. Spock. The gore is effective and not overdone, though it’s more blood than viscera. However, the ickiest moment to me is when a main character doesn’t wash hands after using bathroom.

Technically, this is a dark comedy, so there’s lots of self-references throughout, sometimes quite subtle as done in An American Werewolf In London (1981), such as someone on the phone saying “You don’t sound tickled to death to be there,” or we see a young couple in a loving tickle fight. One of my fave moments is a cigarette bit at a hospital early on that I won’t ruin.

Sure there is a lot of goofiness, and none of the fetishes are mine, as I said, and yet, despite some wooden acting, this film is actually successfully effective. Part of the reason for that is it’s not just tickling, not just toes (though a lot of that), but a string of many scenarios that play out in a Hershell Gordon Lewis / The Wizard of Gore (1970) bloody kind of way. The body count is large, as I stated, which is all the better to balance out its moments of silliness (again, not meant as an insult in any way, because, well, this is a micro-budgeter with a huge cast, and is supposed to be a dark comedy), such as a smiley-face blanket on the torture table.

For me, the problems with the film are just logistical, which really shouldn’t be applied in cases like these, but it’s the way my analytical brain (or some other organ) works. For example, the torture chamber is set up a room in an apartment. Wouldn’t other tenants hear the screams? And there is at least one attempted escaper in a prone position who could have easily have raised a knee hard enough to cause some damage and escape, but of course, that would lower the count. Also, the echo in the Maniac (1980) inspired dream sequences are just a bit too reverbatory (yeah, I know it’s not a Scrabble-worthy word) to make it clear what is being said. But mostly, it could use a bit of trimming to keep it less than 90 minutes.

It’s obvious from the beginning they are setting up the go-on-her-own main character to fall victim to the tickler, so I’m not giving anything away there, but the question is, though, does she get out of it. Not gonna tell. But I will say that one of the aspects of the finale was not what I was expecting, which I admired.

The extras are a 9-minute deleted scenes collection that mostly doesn’t add much, a decent gag reel, a trailer, and two “Webinars,” which are actually two decent short films worth watching.

So, to sum up, despite the incredibly silly name of the film, it is actually a fun ride in part for the lack of single direction of the story, and by adding elements to the plot – such as a second murder storyline – it becomes more interesting than just goofy.

As a side note, this was a perfect time to see this release as another big budget fetish film you may have heard of called, oh what was that again… oh, yeah, Shades of Grey (2015), opened in theaters all over. Coincidence? That question tickles my fancy.

Trailer HERE