Indie Horror Films

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

Throwback

Written and directed by Travis Bain
Multi Visionnaire Films / Sapphire Pictures
93 minutes, 2013 / 2014
www.travisbain.com.au/throwback.htm
www.mvdvisual.com

It has been a while since I saw a beastie film, let alone a Bigfoot one. This one is from northern Australia, so the great hairy one is known as Yowie (as opposed to Yeti), as in what you say when it steps on your foot. Sorry, didn’t mean to start off with a bad joke, but there ya go. After all, the film actually says “Filmed in Yowiescope,” so I think my gag is okay.

Which leads me to the first point of this film: It is definitely not what might be considered a comedy, but there is a very dry sense of humor that definitely runs throughout. That is if you’ll notice that over the absolutely stunning cinematography of the director, Travis Bain. It’s not just the wide(Yowie)screen, it’s the lighting, the texture of, well, everything. There is a flow in the movement, and the richest of the forest feels like it’s alive. There is almost a travelogue-ness to the way he shows leaves, water and rocks. The background is as arresting as the action happening within it.

Now, back to that action. After a really fun prologue set a century ago, we are introduced to two explorers, looking for the lost treasure of an infamous robber by the name – I kid you not – Thunderclap Newman (no, not the band who sang “There’s Something In the Air,” but it’s definitely a prescient hint of trouble; in all honesty, I am not a fan of that song, but I digress…), deep in the steamy back jungles of northern Oz. exterminators by trade Jack (Shawn Brack) and Kent (as in Nick Kent, keeping up the classic rock nods?; Anthony Ring) are joined, thanks to bad citizenship trough a campfire hazard, by short-pants’d ranger Rhiannon (Melanie Serafin, whose character is named after yet another classic rock reference).

With a nod to The Treasure of Sierra Madre(1948), there are double- and triple-crosses, as if a hairy brute weren’t enough of a tension driver. Human animals can be as bad as the dangers in the forest. Especially ones that can’t seem to keep a bullet count (i.e., how many they have shot). Or that two strikes of a rock to the back of the head are probably more effective than one. Although thighs seem to be in the most danger in this film!

The beastie makes its presence felt, but it’s more a secondary character, which actually works well for this story of greed, desperation, and foliage. We rarely get to see the Yowie’s face, just close ups of hands and other furry body parts, and that’s okay too. And while the gore is kept at a minimum, there are bound to be some squeamish parts for some.

And in the middle of it all, giving a hand in a cameo, is Vernon Wells, who played the mohawk’d Wez, the most memorable character from the original Mad Max II: The Road Warrior (1981, so good it’s the only Mel Gibson movie I can still watch). However, unlike the original Mad Max (1979), this one is not dubbed over for North American audiences, thankfully, and the director trusts we’ll understand the lingo, which is not any harder than watching Masterpiece Theatre. Just more fun.

With a relatively small cast and a big jungle, this release is pretty effective in making a big ado. It’s pretty obvious that nearly the entire film was shot in one small area from different angles (confirmed during the “Making Of…”), but it still looks amazing. After all, there is a reason it has won so many Festival awards considering its relatively low budget (listed as $200,000).

There are quite a lot of extras in this. For example, it starts with a 15-minute “alternative ending,” which of course was the original ending before test marketing. I understand taken as a whole why they made the change, but personally, I like the first half of the alt/original, and the second half of the one used, because the original plays against a stereotypical trope. However, one change I would have made is rather than throwing in a quick flashback which would make the old ending obvious, just show the action of the object being left. As it stands, though, they made the right choice of the two.

We are given a 3-minute and 15 second deleted scenes that were totally right to take out, and superfluous even for the extras as it didn’t add anything. However, there is a 44 minute Behind the Scenes featurette broken up into 6 parts to make up for it. It’s more of a shooting diary, focusing mostly on Travis, Shawn and Nick, and almost nothing with Melanie. It’s pretty interesting, especially the technical details, and probably longer than it needs to be.

Also included are a couple of trailers for this film, and some video blogs (23 minutes) of traveling to a film festival in California. Honestly, the travel part of going from Australia to California is kind of boring, but it picks up once they finally reach the Con at 14 minutes in. Travis and Anthony meet up with Vernon, who by I once met at a Chiller Theater con in New Jersey, back in the 1990s. Yes, he came across as a nice guy who let me take his picture without charging me. In one part they’re trying to convince three people to come to the screening, and I’m relatively sure, by coincidence, one of them is Ryan E. Francis, one of the stars of ThanksKilling (2009). It’s great to see them win the award for Best Foreign Film, and I’m just sorry they didn’t include the Q&A after the film screening here.

At almost 6 minutes in length, there is the 1999 16mm short film directed by Travis called “Daniel’s Jack” about the internal monolog by a guy, Daniel, who gets a flat tire and doesn’t have a, well, the title says it. It’s based on an old joke, but it’s very effective here (Groucho does the same thing in 1933’s Duck Soup, for example). At just over 8 minutes, we are given the well-made “Full Moon, Dirty Laundry” from 1998, the story of two lonely people who meet in a laundromat. At nearly 5 minutes, there’s the very amusing “Parrot Ice Tours” from 2014, about two cheeky kids trying to raise money to fix a broken window by taking advantage of Asian tourists.

The next extra is a series of local Cairns, Australia radio interviews. The first three are with Shawn Brack, two with Anthony Ring, and one with Travis. All are interesting. The very last extra is a 1 minute video clip of Wells reading an excerpt of a 1916 story called “The Hairy Man.”

For his second full length feature, Travis did a great job. While this film could use a bit more tightening up, it’s an incredibly decent release deserving of the praise it’s been given at all the festivals it’s been accepted at, and worthy of checking out.

BONUS:

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

I am putting both these reviews together because they both deal with the distortion of time in various forms. The trailers for both films are at the bottom of the blog.

Reminiscence: The Beginning

Written cinematography, music, makeup and effects, and directed by Akcay Karaazmak
SGL Entertainment
107 minutes, 2014 / 2015
www.reminiscence-movie.com
www.facebook.com/reminiscencemovie
www.sglentertainment.com
www.mvdvisual.com

It’s nice to see a new twist on the whole Based on the True Story framework, as the opening of this arthouse style film states that it is “Based on true physics events and black hole theories.” Starting off with a Slovakian couple on their way to set up camp on a stone beach in Cesme, on the west coast of Turkey, this indie comes from that country, though the dialog is in English.

Miska (Michaela Rexova) seems to be some kind of theoretical physicist who studies other dimensions, and her companion (husband? boyfriend?), Akcay (played by the director, pronounced Ak-chai), start having strange experiences. They keep running into each other, but it appears not to be the same person, as if there were more than one of each of them. Plus, time occasionally stops, or goes backwards, or they see strange people – referred in the credits as The Others – such as a mysterious version of Akcay’s mom (Yasar Karaazmak, who I am assuming is the director’s real mother).

All this is happening while the same musical theme plays throughout most of the film, with strikingly sharp piano chords; the director is also a musician. With quick editing, little dialog (the most commonly used words are “darling” and “baby”) that tends to be lower than the soundtrack and arty shots, sometimes I wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Ironically and probably purposefully, it’s hard to follow a linear storyline with people popping in and out with regular occurrence.

It seems not just that “Billy Pilgrim has become unstuck in time,” but here it’s rather unstuck in dimension as well. One minute someone/-thing is lifting a rock to crush a head, the next, with head intact, the person is sitting on a beach. Another person is half face-half skull (really nice effect, by the way), but the explanation? Well…

The visuals are stunning and beautiful. The natural rocks and beach of Cesme become a character unto themselves, as the camera tends to look like selfie-style angles with either long shots or very close-ups of people accompanied by the images being shaky. While it tends to be way more artsy than (in my opinion) needs to be, i.e., it feels more like showing off than anything else, I will also add there are moments that are creepy as all hell, but would be more so if I understood what I was looking at. I found the best way for me to address it was to take it scene by scene, rather than a whole zeitgeist.

At times, it seems like it’s the same people, but the consciousness of our two protagonists jump from dimension to dimension in sharp jump cuts, which of course doesn’t explain the malevolence or body distortions (scars, whited out eyes, missing eyes, and the like). Is it a dream? A premonition? Hell? I’m not sure, but I will say that “World are colliding, Jerry; world are colliding!”

There is also a meta-story happening as we watch Akcay observing himself on the video playback on his camera. He kind of figures out what is happening, even if it remains somewhat unclear to the viewer (well, this viewer anyway). I’m also glad that I saw this on a small screen, because if I saw it at a theater, I can imagine it inducing the same kind of motion sickness inspired by the likes of Cloverfield (2008).

The effects and make-up are really well done, both digitally and appliance, giving some parts an effectively creepy overlay, even with the jumpy edits. Also, some of the scenarios, especially those in a not-so vacant house are especially unnerving.

Included extras are two trailers for this film and something called a “Full Motion Menu,” but I’m not sure what that is (perhaps an Easter egg, something I’ve always been miserable at finding?). My one wish would be for captions.

Memory Lane

Directed by Shawn Holmes
553AM Creative Group / Wild Eye Releasing
71 minutes, 2012 / 2015
http://thatshawnholmes.wix.com
www.wildeyereleasing.com
www.mvdvisual.com

Poor Nick Boxer (as in fighter; Michael Guy Allen) is a returning war veteran with a hard case of PTSD, as do so many others (thank you George W. Bush for spiritually raping a generation by putting them into an unnecessary war to feed your daddy and Dickie’s wallets, and you sit around and paint; but I digress…). As we meet Nick and his sister Hannah (unconventional cutie Anna Szyszkiewicz), we are only given hints early on as to why the stress for this particular GI. What does the snail-mail letter he receives mean? What does a finger on a tube mean? Relax; it’s all in the first 3 minutes so I’m not giving away anything.

Nick needs to find a way to get past the psychological pain, and his way is certainly unorthodox: it involves a bathtub and a plugged in radio. There is actually is a high level of suicide among returning GIs after the things they have needed to do, and the sights before them. It is not an easy life coming back traumatized. But what is the cause? Ahhh, in there waits Memory Lane.

Through a series of sometimes disjointed events, he meets Kayla M. (Meg Barrick, who would soon go on to be a regular in the Cinemax series, “The Girl’s Guide to Depravity,” with the name change of Meg Braden) who is (possibly) about to jump off a bridge. Nick is hard to resist with his Ryan Reynolds vibe, and Kayla is trouble(d), sexy and a touch dangerous, making her irresistible as well.

After a brief (?) relationship, he buys her a house (from what money, I wonder) and then a ring, flashing back to an earlier subtle reference. As he brings it to her, he finds her deceased in their bathtub. He freaks out, of course, and through a further series of fragmented events, finds that if he electrocutes himself and has his two best buds (Julian Curi and Zac Snyder) bring him back through a second shock, he can retrace some of his steps and see things he hadn’t noticed the first time, which leads him to believe she was done in by another than herself.

Well, you can find most of that out from reading the box, IMDB, or even Wikipedia, so I’m not giving anything away, I promise. This is all in the first 10-15 minutes of expository, so the story really starts to take off from this moment.

What Nick is doing is obviously dangerous, but his two loyal pals stand by him as he is shocked to and from what they call Memory Lane, break into Hannah’s veterinary (he’s a vet and she’s a vet; coincidence?) lab for equipment, and other acts that could put them all in jail. After all, the dudes are literally killing their friend on purpose; think the police are really going to say, “Oh, it’s okay, you were just helping yer bud talk to his dead girlfriend”?

Self-considered more sci-fi than horror, this was shot for a reported $300 (mostly spent on food) in Wheeling, WV and across in Ohio, the film definitely has a good look to it, with muted colors to represent the moodiness and angst. Shot on a Cannon T2i and edited on a MacBook Pro, director Shawn Holmes makes the most of what he has, such as talented acting roommates and friends who were willing to devote their time and efforts into a project of which they could definitely be proud. It’s no surprise it’s played at a number of festival, and even won some prizes (including Best Director).

Honestly, I watched the film three times, and I recommend that as well for the following reasons: the first time through, I had a bit of trouble following the story here and there, such as, how did he know she was murdered by the events he saw? And how did he come to know who the murderer was? Perhaps I’m thick, but I seemed to have missed these imperative pieces of information. Because of questions and what felt like some holes in the story, I found myself getting a tad antsy.

The story and editing jumps a bit here and there, the latter being on purpose for a reason that I came to understand through the second sit-through. The rerun was with the director’s commentary turned on; Holmes does it solo (thank you) and manages to do a magnificent job of it. He tells anecdotes, motives, and explains some things about the plotline that I totally did not get the first time through. It cleared up a lot for me, to the point where it made me happy (and no longer antsy).

With this knowledge in hand, I sat through it again, and a lot of pieces fell into place that I had missed the first time (e.g., the ring I mentioned earlier). The third time was actually more enjoyable than the first, even with the same computer program created music droning through the whole film.

What we learn through it all it that by whatever means necessary (realistically; I would not recommend through self-electro-death therapy), it’s important to face what you have done, even if it’s hard (such as Hawkeye did with the Vietnamese baby on the bus during the last episode of M*A*S*H).

Lots of extras abound, including the fact-filled commentary track. There is a take-it-or-leave-it “Deleted Scenes,” “Memory Lane Short Films” that is a series of kind of “Making Ofs,” “Promotional Videos,” and a couple of interesting “Screen Tests.” Being a Wild Eye Releasing product, there’s also a few fun trailers of their other releases.

The film has been compared to Pi and a couple of others that play with some aspect of time, but this is actually a nice, mostly original piece that is well-written as a premise (even with some problem areas). The cast is suburb, especially Allen and Curi, and I can see a possible future for much of the top of the crew, such as the director and co-writer Hari Sathappan, though this is his only IMDB credit so far.

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

Clive Barker Origins: Salome; The Forbidden

Directed by Clive Barker
Seraphim Films
www.mvdvisual.com

Here is what I can tell you of what I know about Clive Barker: (1) he’s British; (2) yes, he does look a bit like the love child of Seth Meyers and Paul McCartney, especially when he was younger; (3) he is gay and a champion for gay rights; and (4) in my opinion, he is a far superior horror writer than Stephen King, just not as prolific.

There is always a debate about the two, but simply put, King is more populist, and Barker is more intellectual. You don’t really have to think during a King book, as massive as it is and full of pop culture buzzwords (e.g., The Ramones come up on occasion), identifiable characters and small words. Barker’s books are intricate worlds filled with arcane and wondrous details. Both are enjoyable, but as writing skill and use of imagery goes, Barker wins hands (on word processor) down.

That being said, there are probably more who know Barker by his film directing, especially the gore-fest Hellraiser(1987, based on his own Novella “The Hellbound Heart”), where he brings into being the now cultural iconographic Lament Configuration box and the Cenobites from hell, especially Pinhead, so perfectly brought to life by Doug Bradley.

Before Hellraiser, Barker also directed two short, experimental films, which have again been collected together, along with an undated 16-minute short of interviews with Clive Barker, Doug Bradley and screenwriter/novelist Peter Atkins. My guess is it’s from 1998, the first time these two shorts were released together for home consumption.

Salome

18 minutes, 1973 / 2015
Based on Oscar Wilde’s infamous 1891 French play, this version could almost be grouped into the Nick Zedd / Richard Kern / Lydia Lunch / Beth B (et.al) school of the Cinema of Transgression that would be taking off a few years after this was filmed.

Shot in black and white in what I’m guessing is 16mm (but could be 8mm), the images are murky, grainy, shakily hand-held, and sometimes using extremely high contrasts. Oh, and did I mention the speeds occasionally slow down, such as during the title character’s Dance of the Seven Veils?

Generally, the Biblical story goes that Salome (Anne Taylor) is influenced by her mother to seduce King Herod (an unrecognizable Doug Bradley in strange make-up) into cutting off the head of John the Baptist (a very pretty young man who is not identified), as there are no credits in the film; I am going by the info on IMDB.

There is full frontals of both genders, which was extremely rare at the time (the first nude male I ever saw onscreen was Don Johnson in The Harrad Experiment, which came out the same year as Salome). Shown over some plinking music, the film is essentially silent whereas there is no dialogue, but there are Foley additions to the soundtrack. While kept at a level of surreal, if you know the Biblical story, it isn’t too hard to figure out the essential story.

This is a film of patience, meaning if the viewer has some, there is some interesting work here. The acting is stage level, meaning a bit overblown (purposefully, I’m guessing, as they are essentially making a silent film, and that was the trend back in the pre-sound days, and further along), but it gives a better idea of what is happening, considering the visuals and the editing. On the other hand, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of much of the visuals of Transformers (2007), either.

I would consider this a successful film, but don’t think it’s necessarily for mass consumption.

The Forbidden

35 minutes, 1978 / 2015
Also based on a classic tale, this time we are given a version of Faust, who sold his soul to the devil in exchange for power and beauty in the form of Gretchen (Lyn Darnell), but of course, life is fleeting and eternity isn’t, so the devil always wins.

We meet the bearded Faust (Peter Atkins) as he conjures up some runes to raise Mephistopheles (Clive Barker), who first appears to be some kind of Asian version of a demon with exaggerated mask and kimono-type outfit.

Filmed half a decade after Salome, again, there is no dialogue, but there is music and sound effects. This time, however, most of the film is shown in the negative. As annoying as that may sound, it actually looks good, especially when you think that the black ink on white paper was most likely white ink on black paper. A lot of thought must have gone into the look of it.

Through most of the second act, Barker is not only nude, but sporting a “Mr. Happy” (which I don’t think I remember seeing in a straight film until either 2003’s The Brown Bunny or 2006’s Shortbus). He dances and it waggles while he performs a spell for Faust.

Possibly influenced by the works of Kenneth Anger (confirmed by the interviews in the extra section), the film has a dark side that the actors seem to revel in, which is no surprise, as Atkins, Barker and Bradley all belonged to the British avant-garde theater group, the Dog Company; their connection was made then and stayed around well into the Hellraiser years.

There’s a bit of an extended gruesome scene in the third act where our protagonist’s skin is sliced and peeled off by women with scalpels (separation of body and soul, perhaps, or maybe this is his torture for eternity in hell), which isn’t quite as wow as the fishhooks ripping Andrew Robinson apart in Hellraiser, but definitely a nascent idea that came to fruition later. Again, as this is shot is negative, so the blood must be a white fluid because it comes out as black, and similarly, everyone must have been in dark make-up because they all appear as white; or maybe they all had really good tans? Oh, wait, it’s England. Never mind.

Like Hellraiser, which deals with the complete giving of yourself for solving the Lament Configuration, both these films are based on making bargains and getting punished for it: Salome is about sex in exchange for John the Baptist’s head, and The Forbiddenabout a deal with the devil.

Philosophically, can one actually go wrong on an experimental film? The same question can be raised (pun intended) about abstract paintings. There are going to be those who will be either bored or disgusted (or both) by these films. Others – you Stan Brakkage fan stand up – who will analyze it frame by frame and see the beauty of it. For me, yeah, I liked Hellraiserbetter and found it more accessible, but I also respect what Barker and crew were trying to do, and give them a nod. Not for everyone, certainly, especially those who expect a body count or a linear storyline, but for those who study cinema, it’s an interesting opening pawn move for Barker at the beginning of his career.

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

Spider Baby, or the Maddest Story Ever Told)

Directed by Jack Hill
Arrow Films
MVD Visual
85 minutes, (filmed in 1964) released in 1967 / this version released in 2015
www.mvdvisual.com

I pride myself in my knowledge of classic horror films, as I grew up watching them either in theaters or on television. In that way, I’ve seen most of the classics, but due to lack of distribution, Spider Baby, which was shot in 1964 and finally released in 1967, is one I have missed; for years I have wanted to get a gander. Luckily, the opportunity has arisen, in a bee-utiful restored deluxe edition.

A very, very, very dark comedy, Spider Babybelongs more in the subgenre among the likes of the less than humorous Whatever Happened to Baby Jane (1962), Hush…Hush Sweet Charlotte (1964), Strait-Jacket (1964), and the similarly black absurdity of Hershall Gordon Lewis’s Two Thousand Maniacs (1964), where the maniacs that should be hanging out with Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) at best, or Arkham Asylum at worst, are out running around, with knives in hand.

Through a fourth-wall breaking expository introduction and conclusion, we are informed about the Merrye (get it?) family, who as they approach puberty, the older they get the more they mentally regress to the point of violence and cannibalism (it’s not for nothing that this film was also named at different points as Attack of the Liver Eaters and Cannibal Orgy). Also, I’m sure the secondary title is a play on the 1965 film about Jebbus, The Greatest Story Ever Told,which was possibly still playing around in some theaters around that time, especially in Dix-say. (Note: this is confirmed in one of the included extras, which I saw after I wrote this part.)

We are initially introduced to the Merrye clan through the eyes of a messenger, played by Mantan Moreland (he infamously had a recurring role in the Charlie Chan films as the always loyal-yet-scared helper who, along with Stepin Fetchit, famously said, “Feet, don’t fail me now!”). Of course, it doesn’t end well for him, but his cameo is sympathetic to both his career and the man as an actor.

The Merrye Children: Sid Haig, Jill Banner, Beverly Washburn

The isolated Merrye estate (on a busy street in real life) is in sharp disrepair. They never explain where the money came from, but it is certainly near the end of the dynasty. Poppa has died a number of years ago, leaving the caretaker in charge of the remaining family, since they are not up to it themselves. The oldest is Ralph, a rapacious lad played by a young Sid Haig (!) who dresses like a little boy in rags, drools, leers and snarls, but has already regressed to the point past speech, in some sense on the level of the family dog. Haig, who always seems to be in the moment, has had a long career, but to modern audiences is mostly known for his role of the head of another killer clan in Rob Zombie’s House of a Thousand Corpses (2003) and The Devil’s Rejects (2005). The middle child is Elizabeth, who is obsessed with the idea of hating and anger (“He’s gonna hateyou for that!” she spits out joyfully). She’s played by previous child star Beverly Washburn, who Trekkers will know more from “The Deadly Years” episode. The youngest sibling is Virginia, played by the very cute Jill Banner (d. 1982 in a car accident); rumor was that the Beatles had a thing for her around this time. She is the title character, named so because of her love of spiders – be it as pets, or as food. From her first introduction onscreen it’s pretty easy to see you don’t want to be stuck in her “web.” Even Peter Parker should be afraid. Oh, and in the basement are their two aunts and an uncle who have regressed so far they are the cannibals discussed earlier.

Lon

Watching over them all is said caretaker / chauffeur named Bruno, and star of the film, Creighton Cha…I mean Larry Talbo…I mean Lon Chaney (sans the Jr.). He arguably gives one of the most heartfelt readings of the films of his later career. You can see his slow boil desperation grow to a breaking point as it becomes harder and harder to control the feral nature of these three young adults, that he called “The Children,” and the current state of affairs.

Part of the problem is that some distant relatives have come to claim their property, as technically they are the next in line to inherit the Merrye fortune (from where?!), and they want to take position with the help of their shyster lawyer and his secretary. The plan is to put the children into a mental facility and then sell the property for development. Sounds a bit like an adult version of The Little Rascals, doesn’t it (“We gotta save grandma from getting evicted, Stymie!” “Mmm-Hmm!”)?

The relatives are a brother and sister, who arrive together. She is the voracious and greedy Emily, played by Carol Ohmart, possibly typecast as a similar character from when she was Vincent Price’s wife who takes the acid bath in The House on Haunted Hill (1959). At one point, she even wears similar sheer night clothes with a black bra showing ample cleavage for its day, stockings and garter belt that would make Bettie Page proud. It’s dismaying to know that she’s a Tea Party Conservative in real life now (then again, Bettie Page was a Born Again Christian for a large number of years, though she embraced her past before she passed on in 2008). Then, even in her 40s, she was pretty hot.

The brother, played with laisse faire finesse in a suit and tie is Peter, ambley brought to life by 1950s-sit-com-handsome Quinn Redeker. Peter is fine with either eating cat (he guesses rabbit), or the children’s antics. He’s likeable and it’s no surprise that Ann, the assistant to Emily’s lawyer, played by the lovely Mary Mitchel (yes, with one “l”, who was married to the Assistant Director here, and would later do a lot of behind the camera work for Coppola), goes a bit gaga for him; the attraction is mutual. The last of the characters is the shady and, yes, greedy lawyer, who is aptly named Mr. Schlocker. He is humorously embodied by the diminutive Karl Schanzer (d. 2014), who helped director Jack Hill find the moneymen and some of the cast; in real life he was a real-life PI!

The trouble truly begins as they all spend the night in the old dark house, with people traipsing around looking for clues, searching for things of value, and avoiding murderous intent. There are a couple of gruesome scenes, but it certainly is a case of eat or be eaten, both figuratively and, well…

Mary Mitchel wolfing up Quinn Redeker

Did I mention this was a comedy? My favorite moment is at a dinner table where Peter and Ann are discussing their enjoyment of the Universal classic horror films, and at one point they mention the mummy, and it’s clear from the body language that they are not talking about the Imhotep (Karloff, 1932) version but rather the 1940s Kharis (Chaney) ones. Of course, they mention Frankenstein, meaning the monster, which Chaney played in The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), Dracula which he played in Son of Dracula (1943), and of course his most known character, The Wolfman [yes, Chaney is the only one to play all four of the classic monsters onscreen]. What makes it even funnier is Ann stops before actually saying the full creature’s name and looks over at Chaney, who summarily looks up at an angle and says in a perfect Lawrence Talbot worry-voice, “There’s going to be a full moon tonight!” I had to stop the film and go, “wow!” and then realize that I haven’t seen Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein(1948) in a really long time. Oh, and by his mentioning the full moon, perhaps they were also covering the shadows during the day-for-night shots?

I would like to share a special nod and raise a glass of a Virgin Shirley Temple to cinematographer Alfred Taylor, who does one of the more amazing lighting jobs I have seen in a black and white film, arguably equal to Gregg Toland’s handiwork in Citizen Kane (1941). Taylor gives amazing depth to the basement, the back ends of the rooms, and in the outdoor scenes. Some of the bootleg and VHS copies are quite murky from what I understand, but this remastering is just jaw-droopingly beautiful.

With Spider Baby taking on the American International Pictures style (Roger Corman mentored Hill) and mixing it with the even more absurd (but not as silly) The Raven (1963), over the early years of its existence this film had been pretty maligned. But it is due in part to bankruptcy of the producers and a legal issue with ownership of the negative, which is why it didn’t play on late night television like some of the others mentioned above. I’m not sure it would have been shown on television anyway without being cut to ribbons by censors because this film is quite wonderfully bizarre in its creepiness, and unique in its story, written by the director, Jack Hill. He would go on to write and direct such exploitation classics as The Big Doll House (1971), The Big Bird Cage (1972), Coffy (1973), Foxy Brown (1974), The Swinging Cheerleaders (1974, which received a big pictorial write-up in Penthouse), and The Jezebels (1975; this would arguably be an influence on 1979’s The Warriors).

Over the years, however, as these kinds of things do, there has been an ever growing fan base (Marshall McLuhan’s “Rear View Mirror Thinking”) that has come to realize what a stunning work of dark fiction it actually is, and deserving of the praise it now receives. This notice has even taken its director, Hill, buy surprise, as it was his first feature on a small budget of $60,000 (that’s $456,000 in 2015 currency).

This release abounds in extras. Not in order of sequence of the menu, of course there is the trailer, but that is only the breadcrumbs before the feast. There is an additional 30-minute black and white short Western called the Host from 1960, listed as Sid Haig’s first film. Looking like a cross between an old Twilight Zone episode and a college film (it was Jack Hill’s student project), we meet an escaped robber (Haig with hair!) who comes across a mysterious religious Mission in the middle of the desert. He is called upon to complete a task, and though you can see the ending coming, it’s quite well done.

There is a 33-minute panel discussion (2012?) from the American Film Archive, who had a showing after preserving the release from the original negatives. The panel is Jack Hill, Beverly Washburn, and a bizarre turn by an interruptive and muddled Quinn Redeker. It’s funny, fact-filled, and with Quinn’s part, a bit sad as he tries to tell a number of stories about working with Chaney, but hardly ever gets there.

Another 2006 short is nearly 8 minutes of filmmaker Elijah Drenner (who directed “The Hatching of Spider Baby,” discussed below) and Jack Hill returning to the since-restored Smith Estate in Los Angeles, which stood in for the Merrye Mansion. We never see the inside, but the tour of the grounds help you realize how creative they had to be to make it appear isolated.

Getting back to the film, there is an alternative credits (under the title of Cannibal Orgy) and an extended scene as we all get to meet Schlocker and Ann. These are more historical references than anything actually necessary. Though the backstage stills collection is nice and telling, especially about Ohmart, who looks like she’s not having much fun (the look she gives directly at the camera made me shudder; in the commentary, however, Hill said she had a lot of fun). The 11-minute “Spider Stravinsky: The Cinema Sounds of Ronald Stein,” focuses on the man who composed the music to this and many other Corman films. It kept my interest throughout.

The penultimate is a 30-minute, “The Hatching of Spider Baby, or the Making of the Maddest Story Every Told,” with interviews of most of the living cast, and other filmmakers such as Joe Dante. Not dull for a second, this is what “Making Of” featurettes should be like: a little bit technical, a little bit of anecdote, and a fast pace without being maudlin.

The cherry on the cake, though, is the full-length commentary with Jack Hill and Sid Haig. One of the better commentaries I’ve heard in a while, it really is a nice mix of filmmaking and personality discussion. They are both open to express what worked, how they did it, giving proper due to the cast and crew, being open about their reactions at the time, e.g., Haig explaining how he had the flu during one sequence, making it the hardest work he did in his then-45 year career (again, around 2006 when this must have been recorded). It was also nice to have the English captioning for when I was listening to this track.

I am definitely a convert to the film, and will take pleasure in repeated viewings. I believe that says it all.

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

American Guinea Pig: Bouquet of Guts and Gore

Written, directed and edited by Stephen Biro
Unearthed Films
73 minutes, 2014 / 2015
www.unearthedfilms.com
www.mvdvisual.com

If you are looking for a complex and deep storyline about searching one’s soul and the meaning of life, well, you’ve come to the wrong place. The premise is that two women are kidnapped, given a nerve inhibitor drug so that they can’t move, a shit load of LSD, and then are systematically tortured and eviscerated until dead. Except for a brief prologue and coda, all the action takes place in one room, and filmed mostly in real time and chronological order. Yep, what is promised and that is what is delivered.

The Director, Second Unit, The Actor, the first Victim

The cruelty is perpetrated by a bunch of guys: The Director (Scott Gabby) on 8mm camera, another camera person with a VHS camcorder (David Hood), a Second Unit on 8mm (Rogan Russell Marshall), and the bulky guy with the “Hard Times” tattoo on his pecs, credited as The Actor (Eight the Chosen One) who does all the dirty work. All the men wear masks, as the Director tells the Actor what to do (“Always start on the left, never on the right!” he commands repeatedly). We see the action through the lens of those cameras. This is supposed to be the 1980s, and that’s why the old equipment.

This is certainly a minimalist film just as the premise is a single note struck over and over again. That’s not to say it’s redundant, but it is pretty straightforward, making it less of a distraction from the hacking and sawing and poking and pulling. There is a kind of Zen to it all, I suppose. Look, I’m going to admit that I like a good story with my gore, even with something like A Serbian Film (2010) or Collar (2014), but the core of the matter is the look of the gore¸ which I will get to shortly.

First of all, the actresses who play the victims (Caitlyn Dailey and Ashley Lynn Caputo) are in films after that, so it’s a story of a snuff film, not an actual one. I say that specifically because of two reasons. First, it’s all “found footage” of a sort, as the film is shot by the actors in the story. There is the occasional break while the 8mm stock is replaced, and then it goes on. Second, I have to commend the SFX people, Oddtopsy, because the body parts look real, with the right flexibility and tone. I watched the whole bit-by-bit vivisecting things without turning away…okay that’s a lie. I did turn my head with the eyeball stuff, one of my admitted Achilles heels with this kind of thing.

Of course, the questions that arises through this is the why they are doing this. It’s obvious the VHS guy is being blackmailed (“Remember, we have your kids, so don’t fuck it up!”) into it about a third through, which further, again, the reason for the extremity of the torture. Early on, the Director mentions that the women were specifically chosen for their “role,” and I wondered if that could be a further clue to the reason for the actions. It feels like this is just the first of a series, but according the one of the commentary tracks, it is not. I was hoping it was so perhaps we’d learn piece by piece (pun intended), sort of like the conspiracy arc of Lost or The X-Files, more of the background story over time.

For me, the major problem is not that this is a gorefest, and superbly done at that. Okay, it’s partly that it is two women who are tortured, not a male, but that’s not the biggest issue I had though it made me uncomfortable, nor that the characters live way past the level of what a human body can actually endure. It is as follows (this is my issue which is mine, too; aheeeem): When you just have splatter that is one tone and consistent, without a context for the action, it gets kind of, well, mind-numbing. I’m not saying this is a boring film, I’m saying it becomes a little bit tedious. Chop, saw, poke. Saw, saw, poke, chop. Chop, chop, poke, saw, chop. Spam eggs sausage and spam (oh, what a giveaway; sorry…).

I do understand that this is part of a homage to the Japanese underground Guinea Pig series that had bootleg tapes passed around, and was infamous for its unprecedented levels of unrelenting violence and graphic sadism, especially the second of the series, Guinea Pig: Flowers of Flesh and Blood (1985); there is an indirect mention in this film when the Director comments, “Let’s bleed this flower out.” It makes sense, too, as Unearthed Films also released all seven of the Guinea Pig films in a deluxe DVD box set. It’s also probably part of the reason the film is set in that decade.

The Actor

This DVD is also loaded with extras. To start, there is the trailer, which I have not included below due to its extremity (the one I've linked was supplied by MVD and stars Eight the Chosen One, and can lead you to the actual trailer, which as the words "Series 2" in the title). The next one I watched was the 40 minute single-camera interview with two cast member who are also aficionados in their own right: Pete Townsend look-alike Jim Van Bebber (The Editor), who is the director of films including Dead Beat at Dawn (1988) and The Manson Family (2003), and Scott Gabbey (The Director), who is also president of Ultra Violent Magazine, as well as an actor. While a bit long, it is chocked full of interesting stories and back-stage anecdotes, so it mostly kept my interest. The only thing I found annoying, and I may get picked on for this, is the constant calling of the two actresses as “the girls.” None of the rest of the cast and crew is called “the boys,” but the N-word does make its presence.

An almost 5-minute music video of “Chambers of Perdation” (appropriately meaning "Chambers where there are attacks") by the band Perdition Temple (for those that don’t know, “Perdition” is the time spent in hell). The song is classic death metal with the chucka-chucka guitar sound and the solos, and the growling, distorted voice where you can’t make out a single word (captions, please!). It is interspersed with graphic clips from the film, so don’t look for it on VH1, but perhaps in a future Metal Retardation release from director Bill Zebub?

I was looking forward to seeing the 21-1/2 minute “Preproduction Video,” to see some of the behind the scenes work, and wasn’t disappointed. We see the face masks being made, Gabbey rehearsing his lines, and the full body casts. They don’t show how they do the internal body gore, I’m sorry to say, but still very enlightening.

The first commentary I watched was of director Steve Biro and fellow director / actor / director of photography of this film, Jim Van Bebber, who contributed to the interview segment above. Van Bebber tends to commandeer the conversation, often loudly interrupting Biro to the point of annoyance, but there is also a fuck of a lot of information that I didn’t get from the film that I learned from this commentary, including some religious significance, and the relationship of the two women. It is also the closest that it comes to explaining motive (just the fact that the two women were named after Biro’s ex-wives says a bit).

The final commentary is Biro again, but this time with main person who did the SFX for the film, Marcus Koch (pronounced “cook”). I always start at the end of the extras and work my way through to the one I’m looking forward to the most. However, though there is some info, this commentary was particularly a letdown as there was hardly any talk about the effects, and a lot of it was repetitious from the other extras. At the end, Biro mentions that Koch will direct the next American Guinea Pig, which should be interesting as he knows what he is capable of doing, SFX-wise. Brio also disses commentaries, saying how only the fanatical watch them. Yes, but it is precisely those enthusiasts who are the fans of this kind of extreme fare.

Between the film and its two commentaries, I essentially sat through the film three times, not counting the clips included in the likes of the music video. What is the end result? Yes, this is an extremely brutal film for both the characters, and the audience. But it is bound to reach the audience who it is directed at, which is the point, so in that way, it is very successful. It has an interesting look via the mix of 8mm, 16mm, and VHS, and if you can keep your eyes on the screen, it will keep your attention, in the same way a magic trick is performed. I guarantee there will be moments of “How the fuck did they do that?!?!?!” To me, that screams achievement.

I’m also curious to see how they top this one.

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

Killer Rack

Directed by Gregory Lamberson
Crow-Nan Productions / River Ridge Reels / Slaughtered Lamb Productions
97 minutes, 2015
www.gregorylamberson.com
www.facebook.com/killerrack

Before I start discussing the film on a deeper level, let me explain what we’re lookin’ at here: Betty (Jessica Zwolak) works hard for the Double D Collections company (“Proudly handling your assets”), but she is the only woman in the office with a low-end cleavage, so her chances of advancement by her boss (the irrepressible Michael Thurber!) fall kind of – er – flat. Her boyfriend Dutch (Sam Qualiana) is no longer interested, and even the horndog cat-callers on the corner won’t even give her the time of “woot.” She has such a low self-image, she can’t see that her friend and co-worker, Tim (Paul McGinnis) is in love with her. Even her therapist (Lloyd Kaufmann, King of Troma, plays an actual role, though it is a bit of an extended cameo, rather than his usual quickies) is on the snide side to her.

Debbie Rochon

She visits a shady doctor (who’s has the words “Plastic Surgeon” handwritten on a piece of paper and taped to the door) named Dr. Cate Thulu (Debbie Rochon, one of my fave queens of indie horror). Thulu has her own agenda, as she serves a Dark God by the name of Mammora (you heard me), and plans to help it control the world by… well, I’m guessing you’re already there.

This is a comedy on a few different levels. It is stupid and goofy as hell, but there is a very sharp intelligence that runs through it if you’re paying attention and can look up to it in the face. Similarly to Monty Python’s Flying Circus, you can get out of it what you want, but there is definitely more than it appears. I’ll get to that in a paragraph or three.

Most of the acting is expectedly just a bit over the top as well, but it’s definitely less demonstrative than the awful AC-ting work of, say, John Lithgow in 3rd Rock from the Sun. There definitely are some shining moments from most of the cast, especially from Rochon, who has a particularly good sense of comedic timing, even when her eyes are so emphasized; the brows look like they could be about six inches above her head. She and Thurber actually co-starred in one of my favorite films in the last few years, the very dark drama Exhumed (2011), though they share no scenes together in this one.

Shot around the Buffalo and Cheektowaga area (what, no Tonawanda?), City Hall makes its appearance in the first scene, a place I visited often in the 1980s when I would go and visit a record collector friend who worked there for many years. Most of the filming is actually indoors, but it is good to see some recognizable places. But, as I’m wont to do, I digress…

Jessica Zwolak, Paul McGinnis

One of the great things about this film is the savviness of references that run throughout. Some are quite obvious, such as Betty showing up the first day after the enhancement saying “Tell me about it…stud,” but it’s the more subtle ones that made me laugh the hardest. For example, after the operation, Dr. Thulu’s assistant, Nurse Herbie (Robert Bozek) takes the exact same stance as Ernest Thesiger in the 1935 classic, The Bride of Frankenstein (see at 1:54 HERE).There is also a moment where some demonic-sprayed breast milk starts melting a businessman’s face, who whines, “Oh, no, not again!” This is particularly funny because he is played by Roy Frumkes, who wrote and produced the 1987 film, Street Trash.

An alternative poster

Along with the bizarre non-sequitur musical showtune number in a dream sequence (“All you need is a pair of funbags”), there is a lot – and I mean a lot– of out-there humor. For example, there are take-offs of other films such as Tim saying “With great cup size comes great responsibility,” one frustrated co-worker of Betty snidely comments, about Betty’s enhancement, that for herself, “They’re real, and they’re spectacular,” and a great line at the end a comment made by two detectives that I can’t repeat because it could ruin the ending. Speaking of which, the two detectives? They are named Bartles and James.

Pay attention whenever Dr. Thulu and Nurse Herbie get together, because they are hysterical, and play off each other so well. For example there is this dialog:

Nurse: I don’t have any good lines! [he says breaking the fourth wall, reminiscent of a line from Monty Python during the mattress sketch, when Carol Cleveland laments, “But it’s my only line!”]

Dr.: You’re the assistant! All you need to say is, “Yes Mistress!”
Nurse: I refuse to be Igor; I’m way too pretty!

Rochon really does steal the film, and not just because I’m a fan. Just her reading of impatience at Betty’s getting undressed for an examination, saying “For the sake of the Dark One, would you take it off already?! C’mon, chop-chop!” gives some idea of her acting – er – chops.

One of the Killer Racks

I’m sure this will come into scrutiny as some heavy-handed killer female anatomy, but actually it’s quite a decent look at the way society views body image. Feeling inadequate due to small bust size is not male fantasy, but rather the way we are all mediated by prominence of the likes of the Kardashians and Kate Uptons. The film also addresses the male version of that at one point near the end of the film, which would lead perfectly into a sequel that I’m pretty sure is not in the plan (but would be welcomed by me). Speaking of which, stick through the end credits.

There actually is a history (subgenre perhaps?) of one aspect of the film, which is body extensions, be it for evil or not. On the not side, of course, there’s Marshall McLuhan’s image of technology being the extension of the body, such as the pen for the hand, glasses for the eyes, and computers for the brain. The evil side is more Cronenburg’s early work, such as Rabid (1977) and Videodrome (1973). More recently killer female anatomy could be seen in Teeth(2007) or appendages from transplants such as in Dustin Mills’ Night of the Tentacles (2013).

I’ll admit I was looking forward to this as a bit of empty-headed fun. What I got instead was a multi-layered social treatise that was intelligent, psychotic, and yes, goofy. It was one of the more enjoyable films I have seen this year because it was so smartly ridiculous. And if you’re into it, as a drinking game, take a sip every time you recognize a reference. If you’re a film maven, I guarantee you’re gonna get smashed (not that I’m recommending that…).

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

The Fappening: The Director's Cut

Directed by Sean Weathers
Full Circle Filmworks
75 minutes, 2015
www.fullcirclefilmworks.com
www.facebook.com/thefappening

Brooklynite and urban cool guy Sean Weathers has finally returned to the horror genre with his take on the 2014 events of the cell phone hacking and mass distribution of nude celebrity pictures. Some have given the event the name “The Fappening.” For those who don’t know, the word “Fapping” is to – er – take oneself in hand while looking at said type pictures. Me? I’m old enough where my first thoughts were of the Supremes.

The trouble starts in this story when lothario director and actor Alan Smithee (Sean Weathers), who not only has a problem with what Kinky Friedman used to call Peruvian marching powder, i.e., coke, he sleeps with many women, which gets him into deep doggy doo-doo when his personal sex selfies are among those distributed by the Fappening.

Seybelle Silverphoenix and Sean Weathers

As usual, Sean plays some fantasy version of himself; for those who don’t know, Alan Smithee is a pseudonym often used by directors who want to keep their real name anonymous for whatever reason. Smithee’s discussions about making indie films and wanting to break into the majors is probably a theme in Weathers’ life as well, but in this fictional version, things are going from bad to worse.

Not only is Smithee having trouble getting his latest project financed and is in profound debt and about to be kicked out of his Brooklyn apartment (Weathers’ own apartment substitutes for Smithee’s), but since the Fappening, no one will touch him and the women he photographed and taped having sex (shown in a montage in somewhat detail near the beginning; Sean does love to show off his toned bod and in the act with hot women...hmm, wonder if I’m jealous…) are now getting together a for a class action suit because he didn’t erase the evidence as they had asked.

This is all getting too much for him, until he snaps (as his characters are wont to do). Through some power of anonymous suggestion, he dons a mask and grabs a big butcher’s knife, and sets off to stop everyone on the lawsuit list. This leads to a large body count via various means of disposal, though mostly by stabbing.

Tina Krause

Weathers has gathered quite the cast here, many playing a version of themselves, i.e., characters having the same names as the actors. For example, the person he wants for his agent is one of my fave 1990s scream queens, and fellow Brooklynite, Tina Krause (pronounced Kross). I have been a fan since her W.A.V.E. days (though I wasn’t a fan of that company’s S&M releases), and I had the chance to meet her once at a New Jersey Chiller Theatre; she was nice to me and let me take a picture.

Other actresses doing similar turns include Rachel Robbins and fire dancer Sky Soto. Then there are the cameos of genre directors, again as themselves, such as the great Lloyd Kaufmann (who Weathers once interviewed on his podcast, and came across as, well, Lloyd Kaufmann on Toxie steroids), Joel Reed (1976’s Bloodsucking Freaks), and Jerry Landi (2014’s Bloodmarsh Kracoons, a film I definitely would love to see). Landi was also the Cinematographer for The Fappening, replacing (temporarily?) Weathers’ usual film companion d’arms Aswad Issa.

As for the women who play the disgruntled bedmates, well, most are quite stunning. For example, there’s Weathers’ stalwart Sybelle Silverphoenix (she’s been in more of his films than any other actress) in electric blue lipstick who shows she can handle self-effacing humor, as when she says to Smithee’s landlord, “I’m Jennifer. I know you remember me; it’s kind of hard not to.”

I would also like to take a sec and give a nod to Adonis Williams. In Weathers’ films, he’s the threatening gangsta hoodlum / drug dealer. Well, he plays a similar role here, but it’s much more flushed out, and his acting skills have actually grown quite well. Not DeNiro yet, but he manages to be both scary and sympathetic at the same time. Nice work, Adonis; in some weird way I’m proud of you. Meanwhile, as an inside joke, Adonis’s character is named Jason Voohrees, but he doesn’t get it when Smithee keeps giving him the names of horror characters (e.g., Freddy Kruger) as people in the film and record industry to throw him off, as he does not recognize any of them.

Erika Smith

Sean always manages to wisely use his films as a political forum, sometimes quite shrewdly. For example, at the beginning of this one, while celebutard Kim Kardashian (played by the much cuter Erika Smith, who steals her scenes as Kim, being hysterically funny and scarily accurate) is being interviewed about her images being released, the news scrawl of the bottom of the newscast indicates a black youth hade been shot for smoking a cigarette the cops thought was weed, while a white CEO who embezzled millions gets a slap on the wrist. This segment can also be interpreted in a non-spoken comment on Kardashian’s history of sleeping with African-American men (though in the case of Kanye, an African-American man-child). Weathers is one of the few, brave indies that knows how to weave the real-life horrors into the fictional ones.

There are many shrewd moments throughout the film, and one that’s bound to stick out and be memorable, is the humorous scene where Weathers is talking with Robbins, and they start using the lyrics of “Don’t You Want Me” by the Human League that sneak in naturally as conversation, starting with “You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you…” About this, Weathers told me in an IM message, “…when I rehearsed it I realized how close the scene fit the song, so the day before we shot it, I said screw it and just rewrote the scene and put the lyrics in; most people get a laugh out of it. … I love it when movies [I see] make me want to play a song.”

Rachel Robbins

This is Weathers’ straight-out first feature horror film in a long time, so it’s good to see him get back to his roots. The cast and crew hide the fact that this was probably a micro-budget release, and Sean knows how to work the locations to give it a fuller feel. Even when the action takes place in his small apartment, you never feel claustrophobic.

To me, the one flaw in the film, and this is a lack of suspension of disbelief on my part, is that I cannot believe he was able to do that many killings without being caught, even though all the action is supposed to take place in a single day. One person is on a cell phone to the police screaming his name, and he never, ever wears gloves. Also, some of the killings are done in his own apartment, but you never see him get rid of the bodies, even when people come and go there.

As I’ve said before, with each release, Weathers’ style is becoming more of his own form, and being helped by Landi I’m sure has helped him to get further to achieving that goal. Definitely one of Weathers’ better films, and I’ve enjoyed most of them.

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

Pit Stop

Directed by Jack Hill
Arrow Video
MVD Visual
92 minutes, filmed in 1967, released in 1969 / this release is 2015
www.mvdvisual.com

I know I saw this film in the theater when I was a kid but all I remember is the race car driving. While I was never into car culture, such as NASCAR or whatever it was called back then, seeing all the crashes was fun. I don’t recall any part of the actual story, so here was my opportunity to revisit this classic B-film.

Car racing has been both a mainstream and indie genre for quite a while, sometimes goofy like The Great Race (1965) or Viva Las Vegas (1964), to the more gritty and serious films such as Gran Prix (1966), Winning (1969; the reason why the name of this film was changed from The Winner), Le Mans (1971) or Little Fauss and Big Halsey (1970). Of course, this would lead to the likes of off road chases like one of Ron Howard’s early directorial efforts, Grand Theft Auto (1977), or even Smoky and the Bandit (1977). And don’t get me started on The Blues Brothers (1980). The latest interpretations could be seen as The Fast and the Furious and Transporterfranchises, which are essentially races to the death.

Brian Dunlevy, Beverly Washburn,
Sid Haig, Dick Davalos

With this early indie low-budget classic, we are introduced to Rick Bowman (Dick Davalos, whose Bronx accent occasionally comes through), a tough-as-nails street racer in California who is taken under wing by eye-on-the-buck industrialist and different kind of rat, Grant Willard (the last film of character actor Brian Dunlevy, d. 1972). Willard owns racing cars and a majority share of the local track where stock car drivers race the “Figure 8,” a stupid and dangerous trial by smash-up, and he brings Rick into the fold by psychologically squaring him off against the ridiculously named Hawk Sidney (Jack Hill regular, Sid Haig), who is the one to beat.

Two of the main characters are wholly driven by ego, in two different ways: Rick is a sullen, burning fire of anger, and Hawk is an extroverted loudmouth with a streak towards violence and revenge. Both of them dream of the big time, in the pro races (not a sport I follow, so please excuse the ignorance; for me, while I occasionally drive too fast – or too slow – cars are something for someone I pay to fix). Representing that level is professional race driver and ally Ed McLeod (George Washburn) and the “other side” is Sonny Simpson (Ted Duncan). Stragedy (as Bugs Bunny would say) plays a key part in the roles each character takes in the rise to the top or vice versa in this story of multiple double-crosses, the result of them, and what it takes to go all the way.

Ellen McRae (Burstyn) and George Washburn

With his sullen good looks and bad-boy demeanor (not to mention hair that is so greased it literally reflects light), Rick is a heartthrob to the ladies. There are two here (and the only two significant female roles in the entire film, as race car is a man’s sport; where’s Danica Patrick when ya need her?). The first love interest is Jolene (Beverly Washburn, sister of co-star George; she was also powerful in Hill’s 1967 Spider Baby). She sports short hair, drinks and chews a lot of gum, and while gruff is extremely sympathetic. The other is Ed’s wife and car expert, Ellen McCloud (Ellen McRae, who would soon change her last name to Burstyn and win an Academy Award in in 1974 as the title character in Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore; though my favorite film of hers is 1980’s Resurrection). When we meet Ellen, she is wearing a similar hair style and one-piece jumpsuit as Raquel Welsh in Fantastic Voyage (1966). There is an immediate attraction between the two, which is obvious.

This black and white release is a pretty dark story (some use the word “gritty”), with the Rick character sort of being the race car version Stephen Boyd’s Frank Fane in The Oscar (1966). Davalos does a good job as the sullen and hungry Rick, in an overaged JD sort of way. He doesn’t talk often, but when he does, his words boomerang rather than hang. If you can picture a yin and yang symbol with both sides being the same color, that would be Hawk. One is a quiet, smoldering time bomb at 11:58 o’clock; the other is a bombastic ass who thrives on attention. As usual, Haig does an excellent job at both manic and depressive, and as always, his eyes tell you he’s in the moment; a great and underrated actor who famously uses the method acting style.

Among the cast are quite a few contemporary racing stars from the circuit playing themselves, which certainly must have helped the box office the Deep South, where race cars are king. There are quite a few then-new technologies shown as the torques is checked, wheels are reinforced, and engines are often revving. Oh, and lots and lots of cars in motion, filmed during six live races. Of course, what we see is mostly the crashes more than the actual events.

The look of the film is dark and, yes, gritty, but thanks to restoration from one of the original prints (aka minus-1 generation from the negative), the contrasts are pretty sharp, which is explained in one of the many extras (such as the original trailer) included on this new edition, the 4-minute “Restoring Pit Stop.” They show before and after images, and well as side-by-side, and it’s quite the difference for the better. It’s still a bit muddy here and there, but much cleaner than it was.

In an 11-1/2 minute featurette, “Roger Corman and the Genesis of Pit Stop,” Corman explains how he was involved with the production, but of course, it’s more about Corman than Pit Stop, but I really don’t have a problem with that. The man is just interesting, and he knows how to tell a story.

“Drive Hard: Sid Haig Remembers Pit Stop” is a 17-minute short interspersed with clips of the film. Haig is a well-spoken man who plays dangerous characters. He talks about motivation, the crew, and a bit about Tarantino. It went by quick and remained entertaining. He’s also a good storyteller. Director Jack Hill gets his own shot with the 15-1/2 minute “Crash and Burn: Jack Hill on the Making of Pit Stop,” with some tales of Pit Stop, though lots of his memories are also in the commentary.

For the full-length commentary, Hill discusses the picture and his entire career in the ‘60s and ‘70s with British film historian Calum Waddell, who literally wrote the book about him, Jack Hill: The Exploitation and Blaxploitation Master, Film by Film (2008); Calum also directed much of the extras here, which explains the British uses of spelling in the captions (such as replacing the “z” with “s”). While some of the same material is re-discussed as in the Jack Hill interview short, as I said above, there is so much more here that gets covered, and Hill comes across as a very honest and affable guy, who is willing to talk about anything about his filmmaking, from successes to failures; an example he gives of the latter is his Me, a Groupie, from 1970.

Now, here is a weird point: oddly enough we do not see a single pit stop in the film. But of course, taking in a writ large way, Figure 8 racing could be seen as a pit stop in Rick’s career. Or am I over-analyzing? Either way, this was an enjoyable ride, but you may want to wear a helmet when viewing.

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

Bite School

Written, produced, directed and edited (among others) by James Balsamo
Acid Bath Productions
94 minutes, 2015
www.acidbathproductions.org
www.facebook.com/biteschoolmovie
https://vimeo.com/ondemand/biteschool

In a world where indie filmmakers are trying to be the new Spielberg or Scorsese, or possibly even a Craven or Carpenter, James Balsamo seems to be aiming at best towards Landis’ The Kentucky Fried Movie (1977), though it would probably be more accurate to say Abbott and Costello or the Three Stooges, with him playing all the key parts, and usually in tight black tee-shirts to show off the “guns.”

Now, there’s two ways to read that paragraph, and if you’re not reading it in the complimentary way, well, you’re mistaken. Balsamo’s films are rude, crude, and full of pulchritude. In other words, they’re fun. Now, there are some A-listers who follow the rude-to-be-rude-to-be-cool rule, such as Seth Rogan and his ilk; personally, I find Balsamo’s stuff way more enjoyable because although it’s pretty obvious he (and the cast) is having fun, it’s not just working hard to reaching goofiness to be goofy, Balsamo’s films are just, well, goofy.

While he’s definitely an auteur and has his own “signatures,” each film has a unique idea at the base of it, and as it follows that thread, everyone and everything is jumping into the fray. One way to look at it is that he leans more to the School of It Don’t Matter (writing, acting, etc.); it’s more about the whole ride.

After a fun animated credits with a really off-key Robert Palmer homage called “Addicted to Blood,” we are introduced to Tony Canoni by Judy Tenuda and her “reality show,” Lifestyles of the Rich and Obnoxious. He’s a narcissistic rich twit (think Hiltons or Kardashians) who cares only about weed, sex, and, well, that’s about it. His girlfriend, Cookie (Sarah Martin), is an obnoxious golddigger twit.

James Balsamo and HG Lewis

After one misdeed too many, Tony’s grandfather (a stumbling Hershell Gordon Lewis, the Mass Market Maven of Florida, who is better known for single-handedly inventing the gore genre by directing the likes of Blood Feast [1963] and Two Thousand Maniacs [1964] ) cuts him out of the family’s fortune unless he gets an edu-ma-cation in the form of a GED. This leads to Cookie leaving him (no loss), being kicked out of his mansion, and asking a number of cameo metal musicians – and Ron Jeremy – for a mere $100,000 to help him get by.

After saving a man from being killed by the Lesbian Mafia (no comment from me) due to his owning them $30K, he talks the troubled and stereotypical gay guy, George (Paul Fears) into letting him stay on his couch in exchange for paying off his debt when he earns his degree and is reunited with his fortune. The apartment is shared by George’s father, the angry and also stereotypical Asian Mr. Woo (Vincent Leong). Tony and George both sign up for the GED class, led by Mr. Fleck (a very wooden, yet humorous Roy Frumkes; he wrote the classic 1987 flesh-melting Street Trash), who gets to spout lines like: “Let me assure you George, a GED is your best weapon against militant lesbians.”

Mandy Cat Kitana

Meanwhile, there is a concurrent double story about a nasty vampire, Gregor (Billy Walsh, who played the main villain in Balsamo’s I Spill Your Guts in 2012) biting assorted people (yeah, mostly women, just like in the Hammer days), and a very diminutive (4’11”) yet sexy and busty vampire princess named Vicky (Mandy Cat Kitana), who hangs out in front of the telley smoking weed with a Teddy-like vampire bat puppet named Spat who talks in a high-squeaky voice (Balsamo?). She’s bored after all these years and so also signs into a night (of course) GED class. The same one as…yep, you guessed it.

As time goes on, the stories continue to collide more and more until the meld into one very confusing but enjoyable mish-mash. Vampires be coming outta da yin-yang by the end, some of them showing ample cleavage – especially high priestess Elizabeth (played by Veronica Freeman) – others resembling classic Romero zombies but with fangs. Then when Elizabeth turns into a two headed vampire bat creature with boobs and a serpent’s tail puppet that, well, a brief description doesn’t – er – bite into it.

There are three constants in a Balsamo film, and I’m grateful for all of them. First, there is the homage to other films, such as a very nice nod to Roddy Piper, especially as this was filmed about the time he passed away. There’s also a bits from Rodriguez’s Desperado (1995) and the great kung fu classic The Flying Guillotine (1976; aka Du bi quan wang da po xue di zi). Of course, he also tips the hat toward many other directors and styles, such as the aforementioned zombie vampires, and even himself, as he has Spat watching a television promo for his own as yet non-existing sequel, I Spill Your Guts 2, as well as some wacky other ads and fake TV clips.

Frank "Fuckin'" Mullen

Second, there are the cameos. It’s kind of a blink-of-the-eye-and-miss-it kind of thing, or many times it’s a matter of who’s that now? For me, it’s especially true of the death metal musicians, as it’s not a genre that speaks to me. There’s also a bunch of indie film actors relatively known, famous, and infamous, such as those mentioned before, Roberto Lombardi who is making a nice niche in fan films with himself as an effective Freddy Kruger, scream queen Genoveva Rossi, genre collector turned actor John Link, John Dugan (the grandpa in the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre in 1974), porn star Jasmin St. Claire, off-beat Other musician David Peel, and many others. As I’ve said before, Balsamo goes to a lot of horror and music cons across the country, and films little clips with the actors and finds a way to include it in the story: Butch Patrick – wearing a Herman Munster tee – is a perfect example here. Then there is always Carmine Capobianco, who has great comedy timing, and especially Frank Mullen; I’m a fan of the guy, as I’ve said before. He should be in the cable series version of The Wolf of Wall Street.

Last of this list is the humor, mostly of the lower kind, but there are so many gems included that it pays to listen as some of them zing by. A good example of this kind of wit is when after someone demeans Tony, he says, “Do you know who I am?!” The guy responds with a derisive, “This is New York. No one gives a fuck who you are.” Another great and easily missed one is an acquaintance running into Tony stating, “I haven’t seen you since you took that tropical vacation to Vancouver!”

Gore appears often, albeit cartoonish (that’s okay, the whole film is a cartoon, in a way), there’s lots of flesh (wouldn’t complain about more, though), and many of the effects are laughable to the point where you’d almost expect them to be in a Japanese television program. My one complaint, though, is the sound is uneven and sometimes over-modulated to the point of fuzzy. Still, I’ll take it as part of the whole.

So, here’s a true, digressive story: I had to stop watching the film about half way through because of various reasons (not that I wanted to, just life), and planned to finish it the next day. That night I dreamed that I was hanging out with Balsamo (as himself, though I have never actually met him in person), and we were sitting on a couch talking about indie horror films and the Ramones. There are lots of shots of him sitting on a sofa in his films, so it’s no wonder. I don’t do weed, drink much or listen to metal, but as obnoxious as his characters tend to be, this dream shows that he still comes across as someone likeable on a deeper level. That says a lot to me, considering I wouldn’t want to get near any of his characters.

Go watch this film, and have a laugh; whether with it or at it, it’s all good.

Why I’m a Fan:

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

The Changing of Ben Moore

Written and directed by Jason Mills
Sector 5 Films / Chemical Burn Entertainment /
Reality Entertainment / Gravitas Ventures / Mills Pictures
World Wide Multi Media
85 minutes, 2015
www.chemicalburn.org
www.reality-entertainment.com
www.Sector5films.net

Recently, I had the opportunity to review director Jason Mills’ other full lengther called They Came from the Attic (2009; aka Above Us Lives Evil). Similarly, this new one takes place in Delta, an area south of Vancouver. As I write this, I’m just across the bay on the Saanich Peninsula, British Columbia, but I digress…

Using the time-worn found footagesub-subgenre, we are introduced to a group of mid-20-year-olds who don’t really seem to have much employment or income, though one works overnight hours every other day so perhaps he’s employed at a Mac’s or something; for those who don’t know, Mac’s is similar to 7-Eleven in Canada. There are three-and-a-half main characters, so working my way up: the obnoxious smart ass who helps out on camera duty occasionally named John (Bruce Novakowski); Derick (Corey Beaulieu) is the foul mouthed but caring best friend whose aunt adopted Ben, and has come up with the whole idea of the filming; the girlfriend is Sara (Shannon Ostrom aka Shannen Melissa), and; the focus of the film, the titular Ben (Umberto Celisano), who general comes across and a caring, congenial guy who is befuddled about what is happening to him. Everyone else in the cast who parties with them is surprisingly not necessarily fodder for once. But more on that later.

The reason for the filming is to create a record of the strange goings on of Ben, who was adopted after the death of his parents, and now at 24 years of age, lives in what was the house of his adopted aunt, Derik’s mom. Perhaps an insurance claim left Ben enough money to be able not to have to have a real job? Part of the problem of (not with) this story is that we know just about nothing about them, other than that they died, not even how it happened). Now, it seems Ben hasn’t been sleeping, has not been hungry in days yet remains fit, and has the occasional blackout in his memory.

Caught on camera at night by Derik, Sara or John, Ben seems dazed, has killed a pet or two, and his pupils are turning pale blue. He also seems a bit dazed, hostile, and inarticulate other than a roar or two. Oh, and as they mention in all the film’s official summaries, people have started to disappear in part or in whole. Personally, I believe the trailer gives too much away, and I’m glad I didn’t watch it first, though it is quite effective.

Borrowing a small bit from The Beast Within(1982), we don’t really know about Ben’s lineage, and what is happening is not explained because it is obviously not understood even by its participants, but my guess is something innate and primal.

I must say, generally, I’m done with found footage (ff); usually same old, same old. However, this film is actually one of the better indies I’ve seen use it. Most fftakes way too long setting up the back-story, or has too much superfluous nonsense supposedly to throw us off the track (e.g., the first 10-20 minutes of Cloverfield or everything except the last 10 minutes of The Blair Witch Project). Here, yes there is an introduction of the characters, but it’s balanced out well with the action and there is some character development even without much build-up of the actual histories of anyone. Part of the reason for this is the top-quality acting that Mills has found to voice his thoughts. Novakowski’s John is a bit over the top, but personally, I have friends who are like that naturally. Beaulieu’s passive-aggressive friendship, again, comes across as natural, and I can name some acquaintances of mine like that, as well. Ostrom comes across as the appropriate level of concern, affection and anger, without playing it off the scale. She’s attractive without being unrealistically model-ish (I promise you, that’s a high compliment), which makes the compassion factor for her that much higher.

Ben Moore mid-way through his changing

Of course, the film hinges on Celisano’s Ben. Having experience in both high drama and low comedy – heck, he played a hell of a young Capone recently – helps him be believable both as his “day person” and whatever it is he becomes at night, even when they jump-cut from one to another.

As for the rest of the cast, which is mostly seen in a party sequence and the after-effects, the body count is pretty low, but quite effective, especially as the story builds to its gruesome conclusion.

It’s easy to tell this film didn’t cost too much to make, other than a few minor CGI moments here and there. But it definitely kept me wanting more, which is rare for a “Hello!? I’m walking through the dark house with just the camera light on! Is there anyone or thing waiting to jump out at me around the corner?!?” film. It’s effectively done to keep the creepy factor on high. Sure, I would have run to the authorities of some sort (other than the one weak-willed priest they show) as soon as I saw the blue/white eyes the first time to try and seek help for my friend, but hey, that’s (a) not how these genres works, and (b) wouldn’t help advance the story much. Just think of The Exorcist (1973), and how much the parts of Reagan going to see the doctors during the second act slowed down the story flow, even if it was what would really have happened).

Considering how much I groaned at the prospect of seeing another ff flick, I sure am glad I stuck it out, because it really was fun, with very little drag to it, even with all the open questions. Perhaps this will lead to a sequel? Yeah, I’d watch that, as this is the rare film I saw and thought, hmm, I wonder what happened after the film concluded. Nice work.

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

The reason I have put these two reviews together is because they both deal with infamous crimes from unlikely killers, one the slovenly serial murder Leonard Lake, and the teenage child murderer, Alyssa Bustamante. They also take different perspectives of the crime, but mix either real or aped images of the criminals involved.

House on the Hill

Directed by Jeffrey Frentzen
itn distribution / North 40 Productions / Options Entertainment / MVD Visual
83 minutes, 2012 / 2014
www.mvdvisual.com

The story this film is based on is well known and documented. In essence, during a year or so in the mid-1980s, shlubby, bearded and balding 40 year old Leonard Lake and his “soul mate,” also chubby and rumpled Chinese national Charles Ng lived in a rural and deserted area outside San Francisco.

The real Charles and Leonard

In their compound, they built a cell to hold women and a torture chamber attached to the house to, well… It’s estimated by the amount of bones found on the property that they had killed and buried approximately 15 to 25 people, both men and women, straight and gay. This included some entire families. Usually the men and at least two infants were done away with right off, and for the women, it took a lot longer.

Though quite obviously effective, poor Lenny and Chuck never had the pop sensation cool factor of, say, Ed Gein, Jeffrey Dahmer, or John Wayne Gacy. These guys were unattractive inside and out.

Now, nearly everything I’ve learned about Lake and Ng (L and N) is found online on Wikipedia and sites like that (yes, I read them before seeing the film). Apparently, every victim in this film is either given another name as they aren’t included in the list of known victims, are multiple stories concatenated into single people, or are the conjecture of the filmmakers. This includes the two women who are the main focus of the story: first, there is Sonia (Naidra Dawn Thomson), the only victim who lives to tell the tale (indicated early on in the film, as the main action is told in flashback), and Karianna (Shannon Leade), both of whom are drugged at a party and awaken in the bad place. They are kept around by L and N for cleaning, frequent rapes and other physical abuse, and for Sonia to videotape all the mistreatments and demises.

Yes, we get to see quite a bit of brutality, very little sex, and even less nudity, which confused me. Anyway, people are stabbed, drowned, beaten to death, etc. in sort of a parade fashion. We are introduced to a character with a photo of the actresses’ face and a name / date who they supposedly play went missing. Then comes the abuse, with lots of talking in between, threatening, demanding of money, and then death. Why Sonia and Karianna are left to live so long while others are dropped around – make that in front of – them, is not really explained.

Stephen AF Day as Leonard

Actually, there are a few issues I have with director Fretzen’s first time out in a feature. For one thing, he can’t seem to make up his mind if this is a roughie or an art project, as sometimes the camera will just stay on the subject, and other times, we get the odd angles, the filtered lighting, and the switch between color and black and white depending on the time period. For example, there is some artistic albeit sledgehammer symbolism, such as a dripping faucet being a metaphor for a life slipping away.

The actors who play Leonard (Saskatoon-born Stephen A.F. Day) and Charles (Sam Leung) play their roles excellently, but they are, quite frankly, too good looking for the roles. Rather than roly-poly dorks who look harmless, Day and Leung look intense, with Day appearing too young for the role and ruggedly handsome, and Leung seems kind of like a dashing “badboy” hoodlum from a TV show like Buffy. The real killers are much creepier because of the unassuming way they looked.

Sam Leung as Charles (with Erin M. Young)

There are also little anachronistic things like the camcorder that is used is more modern than the correct time period. In 1985, when L and C were captured, I bought my own camcorder that was then top of the line, which was $700 and weighed 7 pounds that rested heavily on the shoulder. The one in the film, if I’m not wrong, is a much smaller s-VHS that was introduced in 1987 (man, I love the Internet!). Also out of sync is that Sonia’s (Thompson’s) back is full of tattoos, and that certainly didn’t become mainstream before 1985.

What drove me most crazy was mixing the history up, such as how they got caught, which is mostly right, but a key point is off (i.e., they were not in the same place). That isn’t that bad by itself, I admit, but it seems to be an issue through a lot of the actual events, rather than the conjecture of the killings we see; as Ng was found guilty of seven deaths because the other bones were not identified, there is more we don’t know about victims than we do, giving the writers ample room to stretch that part to fit the film. Again, I don’t have an issue with that, but dicking around the known parts is what I find…off-putting.

One of the things I really liked about the project is that interspersed through the film is actual footage of Lake, videotaping himself admitting about building the cell room, what he expects from his women / slaves, and this gives us an insight to the real twisted thoughts of this unkempt killer.

While I know I’ve been hard on the film, I would also like to point out, again, this is the director’s first time at the helm. Sure, he and much of the crew and cast have been involved in serial killer films before, such as the Frentzen produced Killer Pickton (2006) and Black Dahlia (2006), but that’s not the same as being in control of the product. It’s good that he has found a niche in the serial killer subgenre, and I look forward to his growth in bringing us more mayhem.

My Name is A, By Anonymous

Written and directed by Shane Ryan
Mad Sin Cinema/ Rainy Day Parade Productions
Wild Eye Releasing
90 Minutes, 2012 / 2014
www.wildeyereleasing.com
www.mvdvisual.com

I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

– Johnny Cash, “Folsom Prison Blues”

This is certainly not the first film about real life teen thrill killers, nor is it the first to use an artistic frame for it. For example, there was Hitchcock’s Rope (1948), a fictionalized version of the teen Leopold and Loeb murderers, and Peter Jackson’s Heavenly Creatures (1994). This is also not the first movie to use a pseudo-documentary (i.e., handheld cameras) to give a realistic feel to the film. However, that also does not mean this film is either repetitive or derivative.

Kate Marsh as Alyssa

The true story is about Alyssa Bustamante (Katie Marsh), a bored 15-year-old girl from a rough background who viciously murdered a 9-year-old girl, Elizabeth (Kaliya Skye). Her story made the headlines around the world in 2009 for two reasons: first, of course, is the shocking brutality of the assault of a young life, and second, that in a technological world, so much of her life over the previous year had been recorded on the ever present cell phones.

If you look up Alyssa on YouTube, you can see a lot of that footage, from which some of the film is based upon (i.e., copied), such as the touching of an electrified cow fence wire (a safeguard system much more intense, I might add, than one for constraining horses), or donning Alice Cooper inspired make-up and pointing a finger-gun to her own head while sticking out her tongue. In a 24-hour televised news world, the original selfies were played on major outlets repeatedly for weeks as her trial was followed as intensely as was Andrea Yates, who drowned her five kids in Texas and found not guilty by insanity, or Casey Anthony, found not guilty of murdering her toddler daughter.

We see the incessant relying on the need to film oneself to make oneself real, whose reality is a mixture of David Cronenberg’s Videodrome (1983: “Television is reality, and reality is less than television”) and Gus Van Sant’s To Die For (1995: “You aren’t really anybody in America if you’re not on TV”). This film also gives breath to a feeling of ennui of its characters: no matter what is happening or how hard life is treating them, there is a feeling of Other that permeates the day-to-day narcissistic filming. These are life issues and possibly cultural mental illnesses that Bustamante had in common with Leonard Lake and Charles Ng, though the body count differed substantially.

There is an interesting mix of self-shot filming (i.e., supposedly shot by the characters of each other) and other times recorded by an unidentified“third person,” mostly likely just meant to be cover shots of both of the main teen actresses, although the hand-held shakiness remains the same.

The real Alyssa

The film follows three concurrent storylines, as it were. The first is Bustamante and The Sidekick (Demi Baumann), and occasionally Alyssa’s brother, as they ramble through their lives, Bustamante bullying her friends and relations in small ways that would eventually explode into self-destruction through the annihilation of another. We don’t realize we can see the state of her mind, as in real life, she came from a family of poverty, violence and substance abuse.

A second story follows The Performer (Teona Donikova), a sad teen who imagines herself in the limelight as a highly stylized singer (we are shown an entire imaginary music video from her mind), rather than the suggested abusive relationship with her dad (no moms are seen in this film). The third follows The Angst (Alex Damiano), who is full of anger both towards the world and herself. We are shown that through her bulimia, her self-derisive selfie-videos (vidfies?), and a monolog aimed at God. We also see in bitter detail the sexually violent relationship she has with her dad.

Of course, all these stories come together at an important story intersection. Hints of the level of personal destruction are shown throughout, and realized in the third act (titled “The Final Chapter”). I have to say, I figured out where the director was going with the ending about 10 minutes before the answer, which is probably around the time the viewer is expected to have that ahamoment.

Both these films and all four stories here deal with an either an ideal or a nadir of one, expressed through the ego machine of a cell phone camera and small cameras, as characters perform for themselves and for others. It’s personalities that are more performativity than “real,” often without the participant even realizing how shallow their vision of the world becomes, full of ego and the Self. Running through all is also a banality of evil, instilled by the overwhelming technological desire for both information input and output (feeling the almost addictive need for selfiesis an example of both).

As with House on the Hill (see above), there is some speculation and changing of the story to fit the film; it should also be noted that this is “Inspired by the true crime.” During the end credits, Director Shane Ryan does acknowledge that people were blended and liberties were taken. For a piece of cinema that was filmed in four days on $300, and was largely shot by the cast, it does have both a chilling aspect to it (especially the abusive scenes, be it inter- or intrapersonal), mixed with an almost facile feel to the everydayness of some of the actions between the characters. It’s the contrast, in part, that makes this so compelling, and for me more so on a second viewing.

Extras abound on this DVD, running nearly twice as long as the film itself. Along with a deleted scene and some alternative scenes, there are trailers for it and a bunch of other films, such as Portrait of a Milk Carton Girl and Abducted Girl: An American Sex Slave. The highlights though are two different version of the piece, including a 20-minute early cut from 2011 that is mostly without dialog called “The Columbine Effect” (under the directorial pseudonym of Bone Shin) that is mostly confusing if you haven’t seen the full feature, and an hour form of it as well called “Me, Myself and Us.” It’s a completely different cut and order of events (except the ending chronology), and while it’s decent, it’s not up to the full feature, and is rightfully and thankfully in the extras section.

Then there are two earlier short films directed by Ryan. One is the nearly 5-minute effective tribute to Japanese gore from 2011 called “Oni-Gokko” (translated as “Tag”), which could be seen as a tribute to Japanese director Takashi Miike, or possibly the “Guinea Pig” series, with just enough gore and artistic merit to raise some eyebrows. The other short is the 16-minute “Isolation” from 2001. It’s a moody piece mostly in black and white about poor 16 year old Billy (played by Shane Ryan in his directorial debut; I’m guessing a student film). Missing his mom who was murdered when he was younger to the point of depression, we follow him and his thoughts as he walks through a desolate town, possibly bleaker because of his emotional state. You can see a lot of a theme going here if you compare the short with the feature.

Ryan seems to specialize in Kids (1995; I’m certainly not the only one who had this connection as I have since found many reviews comparing them) style films dealing with teens in trouble, including pedophilia, the sex trade and other forms of teensploitation – honestly, none of which I’ve seen, so I won’t comment on them directly – but here he has found a niche of teen murders that works well. This has a very ordinary-everyday Creep Creepersin feel to it (he is thanked in the credits), and is all the more scary for both the actions and lack thereof, and especially for the viewers’ reaction to the mixture of the two.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSTyvCk7zvU

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

She Kills

Written and directed by Ron Bonk
SRS Cinema / Duke Studios
101 minutes, 2015
www.SRSCinema.com
www.subrosastudios.com
www.b-movie.com
www.facebook.com/shekillsmovie

Poor Sadie (Jennie Russo): she’s an innocent (okay, stupid), virginal, and targeted by a mob of deviants that call themselves The Touchers. On their wedding night at a cheap motel, these bad asses lust for her and want to torment her husband, Edwin (Kirk LaSalle), who is a Brad Majors-type geek.

Virtuous Sadie (Jennie Russo)

Now, how virtuous (dumb) is our heroine? Here’s a typical early-on conversation:

Sadie: I believe in mahogany before marriage.
Edwin: You mean “monogamy.”
Sadie: The Board game?

What’s even worse, though, is that she is cursed by having a…. FIREcrooootch. That Is, a Firecrotch, but said in a sotto voce, with the first part spoken fast and the second part dragged out. What that means is that whoever smells her – er – distinctive lower body fluid, loses control (male or female) and turns into a sex-crazed and violent hyped-up fiend.

Just in case I haven’t done a Nixon and been perfectly clear, in a roundabout way, this is not only a comedy, it is one of those goofy films that are way smarter than it appears. Writer and director Ron Bonk uses the foundation of ‘70s Grindhouse and ‘80s Video Nasties to present a movie that you really, truly need to watch without looking away. It’s easy to miss a lot by casual viewing. While some of the humor is right in your face, there is also a lot of subtleties that are easy to miss, such as the latch to a suitcase breaking apart when opened, or one of my favorites when Sadie does the gearing up for battle to take on the Touchers montage (the first of a few), she takes a pile of white clothes and sews them into her “killing” suit, and the finished product is unexplainably black. Note that I’m not even scratching the surface in that direction.

While Sadie is rightfully the focus of the film as its titular protagonist, it’s worth mentioning the Touchers, whose ridiculous name-jacket is more reminiscent of the Hooligals of the “Newhart” show than, say, the Hells Angels. They are five, well, also dumb as stumps thugs who get their comeuppance in a mystic Day of the Woman (aka I Spit on Your Grave; 1978) meets The Crow (1994) mated with Teeth (2007) and the more recent Killer Rack (2015; reviewed HERE).

After several assaults, including by her pseudo-Chinese father (Mateo Prendergast) and Asian brother Chung Lee III (Matt Mendoza) – just so they can delve into the ‘70s Kung Fu genre, including fake vocal dubs – she seeks out Casparella (Niecy Cerise), a black gypsy friend who explains the curse. Through really bad ‘70s style special effects like you’d see in the likes Galaxina (1980), Sadie becomes a champion of womanhood and the destructor of men. And how does she do this? Well, the best way to explain it is that this film was, according to the credits, “based on the novel She Kills with Her Crotch, by Sir Bertrand Covington.”

Of course, every one she violently disposes of deserves to die, especially The Touchers. Reggie (Michael Merchant) is the cool dood greaser type daddy-o. It’s he who brings Sadie to the attention of his mates. Then there’s Poodle (Jody Pucello); he’s more Italian or Latino gang stereotype based. The only female of the troupe is Beatrice (Martha Zemsta; either the world’s worst actor, or a phenomenally good one who excels in playing badly), a leather wearer in biker mode, who has a constant cold sore over her lip. Blue (David Royal) is the brainless Hulk-like member – he even says, at some point, “Blue smash” – with the time period anachronistic piercings; Royal plays him as a scary-yet-somehow-sympathetic dolt (nice job).

Dirk (Trey Harrison)

The leader of the gang, and the owner of one of the most amazing and purposefully fakey handlebar moustaches (and so much more) in film history, is Dirk (Trey Harrison, a former Playgirl centerfold of the year). He is the boss in an Eric von Zipper way, and is no smarter than our heroine (though, honestly, only Blue is arguably dumber than anyone in the film), believing that he is all things to all people, and better than the rest (I was almost expecting him to use the Zipperism “You are my idol, but I am my ideal”). His narcissism, of course, leads him down a path of destruction both to others and himself, like I’m giving anything away in this subgenre. Using wide eyes, tilting head, and a voice that has a sort of an exaggerated surfer tone, Trey plays him with a flair of stylizing overacting that gives him a little bit of likeability, even as the main villain (perhaps because he is a bad boy).

Vengeful Sadie

One of the aspects of the film that I like, even with its total nonsense of a story (which, honestly, doesn’t matter much in the enjoyment factor), is it takes a cue from Tarantino’s two Kill Billfilms (2003/2004): Bonk is not afraid to shed subgenres from scene to scene, giving some very direct homages down the way. Along with the Euro-Nudie opening, some include the aforementioned revenge and Kung Fu, with more direct reverence to The Crow and a film I’ve always wanted to see, Thriller: A Cruel Picture (1973; aka Thriller: en grym film), whose main image is of a woman (Christina Lindberg) in a red outfit and eyepatch (this is the origin of the eyepatch, not the Darryl Hannah character in Kill Bill).

Now, depending on your philosophical epistemology, the viewer may see this as a very pro-woman film, or a very anti-woman film. I’m gonna stick with, Jeez, this was fun. For example, there is a very unrealistic-looking gang rape scene, but every male is wearing belted pants during the sex; Russo is naked, however, with extra hair added on because, well, it’s the “‘70s,” when men were men, and women were unshaven, often anywhere. The men are “in charge” at the beginning, but through actions, that balance changes. Lesbianism is mocked a fair bit, but so is heterosexuality. There is also a multitude of metaphoric synonyms for both male and female body parts, but the latter gets the grand share; for example, in one instance someone says “tuna taco,” and later in the film Sadie self-referentially states: ““There’s a new sheriff in town, and her meat flaps are packing death!” That would have made a great campaign slogan for the picture.

With both story and visuals, this film would probably fall into the category of “cartoon violence.” Everything is just so over the top, it’s hard to take the actions seriously (meant as a positive). Before watching the film, the director tried to warn me that it is out there and extreme. He also didn’t comment on how absolutely squirrelly nuts it was to the point where you can’t help but laugh at just about everything, even the violence. The fight scenes (especially the Kung Fu ones) are sloppy at best (again, purposefully). However, the nunchucks and staff creation alone is worth the watch in this scene.

The film definitely has an overabundance (underabundance?) feel to it, much like the old “Dolemite” sketches they used to do on MadTV a while back. On set “accidents” happen, such as pictures getting knocked off the wall, only for a quick edit to have it back. I remember when films were actually like this because the budget was so small that every piece of negative was needed to be used to make up the expense, even with the errors. With digital, now the oops-factor is more often a matter of timing (e.g., needing to get the shot before the light fades), incompetence of the crew (but still fun for the audience), or in cases like this, to lovingly mock old-school indie films.

The gore is plentiful. Sometimes it’s really silly looking (e.g., really fake looking heads exploding) and most of the time it’s extremely cool, but happily there is lots of it. As for nudity, Russo is naked often (thankfully she’s attractive), and there is a couple of others in another scene, but it’s more the gore than nudity that’s the focus, even with the volume of sex shown.

How much fun is this film? Perhaps this will explain it best: immediately after watching it, I started it at the beginning and watched it again. And both times I was not bored for an instance. There ya go.

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

Flesh for the Inferno

Produced, directed and edited by Richard Griffin
Scorpio Films Releasing
85 minutes, 2015
www.scorpiofilmsreleasing.com
www.facebook.com/fleshinferno

Director Richard Griffin is a surfer. No, not the board on the water type (as far as I know), but across genres. Nearly all his films are directed at a specific type of “feel.” For example, he’s covered, in no particular order nor a complete list, ‘70s Grindhouse (The Disco Exorcist, 2011), “Born Again” cinema (The Sins of Dracula, 2014), thriller (Normal, 2013), Jesse Franco Eurotrash (Dr. Frankenstein’s Wax Museum of the Hungry Dead, 2013) and Redneck (Creature from the Hillbilly Lagoon, 2005).

For his latest outing, he’s veering into the Italian Giallo subgenre of the likes of Dario Argento, and Lucio Fulci (d. 1996). If those names mean nothing to you, well, (a) they are worth checking out, and (b) it will not keep you from enjoying this film; you’ll only miss the shadow of the reference which will not interfere with the story.

In the obligatory prologue staged in 1999, we see a Catholic school led by a pedophilic priest (Steve O’Broin, who does both smoldering and outrageous evil so well; I would love to see him cast against type as a good-guy lead at some point). He is confronted by three of the school’s nuns, who are The Cask of the Amontillado-ized, and in a state anger at being put in this position while doing the Lord’s work, turn from their spiritual husband to the Father of Lies (Aaron Andrade).

Hence we are brought back to the present. The school had been abandoned and is getting ready for a make-over. A rag-tag church group is assigned to clean the place up. I’m assuming they are supposed to be high school teens, but… They are led by Mr. Maupin (the eloquent and sophisticated – no, I’m serious – Michael Thurber; did I miss it, or is he not wearing the ginormous ring he usually sports?). Some of the mixed-gender group is anxious to do some good, and most are reluctant to be there at all, mostly forced by unseen parents. Then there is Noah (Jamie Dufault), the do-gooder who just happens to be there helping out and possible love interest to another character, and the sullen and smoldering official watcher (Sean Leser, who steals nearly every scene he’s in) – don’t call him the caretaker – who is ordered there by the Church against his desire to keep an eye on the kids.

Jami Lyn Bagley

Most of the characters are more fodder than anything else, with the exception of two. First there is Meredith (Jamie Lyn Bagley), who fiercely religious, self-righteous, homophobic and hateful (I once worked with someone just like that, and Jamie nails the attitude). Then there is the obvious heroine of the piece, the lovely redheaded Kat (Anna Rizzo). All is going relatively well, until one of the kids releases the spirits of the three nuns, Sister Millicent (Monica Saviolakis), Sister Luisa (Tiffany Lee Ferris), and the petite Sister Irene (Samantha Acampora, who has an incredible sense of timing, a very identifiably flinty voice…and lips that just don’t quit). Then literally all hell breaks loose.

The writing by Michael Varrati is crisp, with some underlying black and referential wit, but mostly it’s straight ahead demonic horror. An example of the finger-to-the-side-of-the-nose kind of humor I mean is when religious nut Meredith is spouting off, and Noah sarcastically comments that she’s an “utter delight.” This may be in reference to Jamie’s own uber-religious portrayal in The Sins of Dracula; note that Varrati wrote both films, so I doubt this was coincidental.

Although Griffin hasn’t written this film, his playing with religious tropes, especially the thin line between not just good and evil, but heaven and hell, is a relatively common theme, but one he has hardly exhausted. Also, the mixture of straight and gay is another motif he often pursues, though more lightly touched on here than usual. Speaking of which, where lust definitely plays a part in this story, it is not explored as much as in, say, The Sins of Dracula or The Disco Exorcist, but that is certainly made up for in the film’s style and Italiano-flavored flair.

Sean Leser

I am pleased that there is some new blood (pun intended) as far as acting talent present, and I’m also happy to add that there are also some of what I call “the Griffin Players,” those performers (both in front of the camera and behind the scenes, the latter of whom I’ll get to in a bit) who appear regularly in his films. In no particular order, Dufault plays one of his most natural roles, without some of the theatre-based “tells” that he sometimes has employed, including body language. He comes across as an extremely likeable “everyman.” Likewise, Michael Thurber, who can overact to justthe right level when the role calls for it (e.g., the titular roles in both The Sins of Dracula and Frankenstein’s Wax Museum [etc.], and in Future Justice [2014], where he plays a wacked-out version of himself!), also comes across very natural and likeable; it’s common for the Adult Supervisor role to be portrayed as a dick in “Kids in Danger” films, but Thurber is sympathetic, and in a bit of a Bugs Bunny-ish/Groundhog Day-ish (1993) amusing way in one particular scene.

Anna Rizzo

In a co-lead role, Rizzo performs really well holding her own, especially as the tension and bodies build up. She does a masterful painful, almost banshee-level yelp, which helps the story. She has the look of a leading actress (yes, I know the term now is actor), beyond the genre. As for Bagley, as I’ve mentioned in previous reviews, she also has a profound sense to timing. You can both hate her character’s homophobia and emotional blindness via a feel of superiority to others, and still care about what is happening to her.

There are also a couple of extended cameos worth talking about. One is by Rich Tretheway as a police officer, and the other is Sarah Nicklin, one of the more outstanding – well, I don’t know if the term Scream Queen is accurate or not, so I’m going to go with Genre Queen. She plays an extremely hot prostitute in the tightest of hooker shorts, and is a very strong comedy relief to start. In real life (i.e., Facebook), director Griffin often calls her his “muse,” and it’s understandable. She always comes across as a smart woman who has a lot of inner strength, and her characters tend to reflect that as well. I do have to admit, though, that when I saw her name in the opening credits, I was wondering if she was going to revive her role as Sister Wrath from Nun of That (2009).

As for the three nuns in this story, well, they could only have been scarier if they had rulers in their hands. The result of their actions throughout is a gorefest that is exquisite, and occasionally cheesy (e.g., the person continually crashing into a door, for example, really does like the effects from a ‘70s Italian film). As for nudity, well, there is none (nun) of that, but there definitely is a pretty hot-under-the-collar scene that is both rawr and ugh at the same time.

At this point, I also need to make a comment about the whole look of the film. Many of Griffin’s films have a kind of auteurlook to them, with bright blues and reds splashed across scenes as metaphors (red = hell, or evil anyway, for example). This is mostly from Griffin, but it’s important to give a nod to Assistant Directors (and occasionally actor, though not here) Nat Sylva and Mark Hutchinson, though more importantly to Griffin’s visual right-hand person and cinematographer extraordinaire Jill Poisson, who deserves a nod all her own.

Every time a new Richard Griffin film is released, it’s always a thrill just to wonder what genre he is tackling and honoring next. And I feel privileged to be able to review such fine work by the director, the cast, and the crew. The more films of Griffin’s I watch, the more I feel like this group are friends, even though I’ve never met a lick of ‘em.

Oh, by the way, you can see the reviews of most the Griffin films above by searching this blog.

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

Hobo With a Trash Can

Various Directors; organized by Claire “Fluff” Llewellyn
Bloody Brit Productions
85 minutes, 2015
https://facebook.com/HoboWithATrashCan
http://hobowithatrashcan.wix.com/hobowithatrashcan

This is an anthology film with an interesting premise, and I quote: “[E]ach of the participating filmmakers were given a budget of $1 and assigned a specific item of trash to create a short film that ties into the narrative wraparound.” I’ll buy that for a dollar!

Welcome to Retroville (filmed in Chicago), a town that mixes old with new. Someone may put down their cell phone to talk on a dial phone. You get the drift. Into this world wanders our central wraparound story (“Welcome to Retroville,” of course) character, Bo (Christopher Kahler). He is the titular hobo, with a shopping cart full of junk and a premonition that something is terribly wrong in Retroville; perhaps it’s aliens? When he touches certain pieces of garbage, green lights flicker around him and he has visions. These visualizations, natch, are the six short films (and equal length wraparound) that make up the whole collection.

Claire "Fluff" Llewellyn

The first story (“Frying Saucer”) is a sci-fi piece about frying pans that cook bacon to an addicting level, but there’s more than meets the pork behind it. Can newlywed housewife Mindy Goodfellow (Claire “Fluff” Llewellyn) catch on and take action before the world is doomed? In all these short stories, Mindy is the only one who bleeds into the wraparound segments, after Bo is accused of murder by two bumbling coppers.

In other segments we are introduced to some ghosts playing poker in a Chinese restaurant’s back room who are assaulted by yet another spirit (“The Hungry Ghost”), a talking piece of fruit who is intent on taking over the world (“The Apple That Bit Back”), a condom that is more than it seems (“CondomDemned”), a dwarf touting around a paper bag with an appetite (“Grab Bag”), and the one serious piece that feels a bit out of place, and is painful to watch on so many levels (“Dr. Hanger”; pay attention Republicans!), but I would not want it removed.

The humor that flows through most of the film and its pieces runs from really smart to really silly, from well-acted to just plain goofy, and from imaginative to just obvious. Through it all, however, Llewellyn and Kahler (aka Bloody Brit Productions), who edited it all together, did a great job in making each segment have a consistent look (and with added “scratch marks” on the “film element”) and pacing. The tones, both in look and feel, are harmonious, with the exception of “Dr. Hanger,” which, as I said, is sort of like that one segment in a “Saturday Night Live” in the early days when they’d try to do something serious.

There is some serious cheesiness that runs throughout, even with this many directors, and the music is especially hammy, with a Theremin-style electronic noise that reminded me a bit of the soundtrack to Xtro(1983). Note that I’m not saying this is a bad thing; I mean, it’s supposed to be retro in both look and sound, and in that way it succeeds. It actually reminds me of some other compilation films from the ‘70s period, like Can I Do It Till I Need Glasses?(1977).

To be honest, I’m kind of hoping this is just the first in a series. Sure, it’s not the only horror compilation by a long shot, but I like the premise of the $1 and the hobo. I’d like to see Bo come back, because, honestly, Kahler is one of the better actors in the film, and was enjoyable to watch. I get the feeling that if this became somewhat of a franchise, perhaps the practice of putting these together will help shape it into something that will catch the attention of the indie horror audience it’s aiming to reach.

Scream Machine: Unrated
Directed by Walter Ruether III
Deadly Indie Entertainment / World Wide Multi-Media (WWMM)
71 minutes, 2015
www.facebook.com/scream-machine-2015
www.worldwidemultimedia.net
Link to purchase on Amazon HERE

Anthology films are sort of like what people say about the weather: Don’t like one story? Another one will be on soon. Here, you have a serving of five tales to, in the words of the press machine, “make you faint, puke and quite possibly soil your pants.” Now there, my friends, is a slogan from sloganland. Or is that Tromaville?

Lloyd Kaufman

After a hysterical intro by the Troma-tic Lloyd Kaufman, we are introduced to the wraparound story of the earth after 95 percent of its population has been wiped out by an Ebola plague (nice sarcastic albeit dated note). Dr. Fry (Scarlet Fry, a nom de plume of the director) in a flimsily made bird mask and a bad Central European accent gives us the lowdown and introduces us to a verbally nasty and literal talking head named…wait for it…Mr. Headly (Executive Producer Paul Hemmes). Fry, who co-wrote and directed the films, also fires up the projector and introduces them.

First up is “Sledgehammer.” No, nothing to do with Peter Gabriel, this one is about baseball. Perfect timing as the Mets and Cubs head into the World Series. Why this matters, I don’t know, as I’m not a sports fan. But I digress…

Murderous Mr. Met?

The southpaw trying out for a team is known for his 150 mph fastball, referred as the…well, you get it. Prodded into it with not so nice results, he gets signed anyway. In this story the attacker is no surprise, but it doesn’t matter. The acting is wooden, the story is short, and the gore effects are pretty enjoyable (though the blood is a bit too thick and dark, but what the heck). There is a sharp ring of comedy that runs beneath the surface that adds to the fun.

In Anytown, USA, in 1993 (as the title card announces), we are introduced to “Cannibal Pen Pals: The Dahmer Obsession.” A gay man who is married to a fiery black woman (to please his family…obviously they don’t live in Ferguson) has been having a pen pal romance with imprisoned Jeffrey you-know-who, and wants to go to him and have a conjugal visit. Of course, Dahmer wasn’t allowed visitors due to the horrific nature of his crimes, including having sex with dead corpses, both whole and, as Dr. Herbert West said in Re-Animator (1985), parts. Of course, our nutzoid pal wants to know what it was like so he can join Dahmer in spirit. But one thing we’ve learned from the first story and it looks to be a trend, there is going to be an O. Henry/Twilight Zone twist. This story is somewhat questionable about a number of social situations (go ahead, call me PC), but it’s definitely more cohesive a story than the first, and equally as off-the-wall.

If you’re into this kinda stuff, I’m going to guess you’ve seen those horror prank videos where some shmuck in a clown outfit chases some stranger in a parking garage with a sledgehammer or chainsaw. I’m waiting to hear about one of those assholes getting their shit kicked. Anyway, the next story, “April Fool’s Party,” is a similar idea with a twist. A group of four meth heads decide to scare the tweaking dealer of theirs in an elaborate The Purge-like – you guessed it – April Fool’s joke (my friends know better than to try any AF shit on me, but I digress…). Of course, things don’t go as planned.

You can tell that this bunch of dickheads have no sense of proportion by the bad teeth and red around the eyes (classic meth signs). But what drove me the craziest about this story is that it could have been so much more, and the ending is a bit anticlimactic. When it ended I had the double thought of “Is that it?” and “did I miss something?” Perhaps being a story about drugs and me being mainly strait-edge means I missed the point of the story, the same way I don’t get Cheech and Chong.

“Septic Shock” tells the shit for brains story of a double cross ending with a man locked into a not-so-empty septic tank by his wife and her lover. Of all the stories, this one is the most artistically done, and we get to see – and somewhat feel – his fear, and revolt at his circumstance. Not sure about the turtle eating celery, perhaps that’s a bit too symbolic and metaphoric for me. Still I was impressed at the direction it went. That being said, it went on a bit too long, but that’s just something subjective, so what the hell do I know!

That's HEADLY,
as in on a Headly of Lettuce

The final, and most coherent story, is “The Deadly Indie Drive-In,” which is actually quite a simple tale, which makes it work so well. A woman on a date at a drive-in theater forgets her medication, and soon starts hallucinating that the person on the screen and the voice coming out of the speaker are talking to her, and telling her to… I’m sure you can figure it out. This was a lot of fun, even if you see the punchline coming.

For me, what makes this so much extra enjoyable is that the woman, Kim Wagner-Hemmes, is the real-life wife of the man with whom she’s on a date, Paul Hemmes, and the person whispering sweet murder in her ear from the screen is Scarlet Fry, the director. This incestuous working bunch seem like they are really having delight doing this, and when it comes right down to it, ain't that the point of the whole excursion in the long run?

One of the things that I find really special about this film is that there is absolutely nothing supernatural going on, but rather it’s everyone being all too human, especially in the foibles department. Make that deranged, actually, or as the publicity states, “Each [story] featuring the three M's of Horror: Madness, Murder and Mayhem.”

What also makes this work all the morebetter (as they say colloquially in my neck of Brooklyn), is that just about all the cast is everyday looking people, not model types. Some are chubby and balding and others unconventional to Hollywood standards and expectations; you know, not people you would necessary see in an ad selling Rolexes. I appreciate that. No nudity, but the gore is plentiful and quite decent looking, in an indie micro-budget kind of way.

There’s no way around it, this comes off as a VHS-style cheapie with visions of grandeur and reality based in Quiki-Mart productions. In other words, if you like your horror old-school ‘80s, you might get a kick out of this in a nostalgic, Throwback Thursday kind of way; or you may just be lucky enough to have a low enough sensibility of denial of reality to see beyond the film itself to what they are trying to reminisce: enjoyment.

A Plague So Pleasant

Directed by Benjamin Roberds and Jordan Reyes
Wild Eye Releasing / MVD Visual
73 minutes, 2013 / 2015
www.wildeyereleasing.com
www.mvdvisual.com

Zombies are everywhere, let’s face it. I’m not talking about the kind referred to by the de facto female lead, Mia (nerd-cute Eva Boehnke) as people who live their lives unconsciously, I mean there are so many zombie films, television shows and books coming out every year lately, it almost feels like an apocalypse on its own. It’s not often that someone finds a new approach, and this one, I believe, may be one of those rarities.

In the premise, the zombie plague has past, and after 12 hours of zombie shootings, the government figured out that they only go on mad-dash flesh hunts when provoked. Normally, they just roam around and have become more of a nuisance as the living go on with their lives, walking and driving around the slow, meandering dead. The “everyone who dies becomes one” idea is still used, but that they’re generally benign and that they actually prefer oatmeal in these sedate states of being is a nice touch.

Because it is only under threat or harmful actions against them that zombies turn into running flesh eaters for a few hours, it is against the law to hurt or threaten the walking dead. This is where the story of this film starts, when we are introduced to one of the three key players, Todd (Max Moody), a smarmy narcissist with a penchant for violence if he doesn’t get his way, who is talking to his roommate over breakfast. The roomie is the central character, Clay (David Chandler), brother the late boyfriend of the aforementioned Mia. Todd asks Clay if it’s okay if he dates Mia, who is completely hung up on her ex-, Gerry (Gerry Green “as himself,” state the credits), Chandler's brother, now one of the walkers. Mia is more interested in the dead Gerry than the living Todd (I don’t blame her; the former has more of a personality).

David Chandler as Clay

The first act is shot in black and white, and when Clay decides to take matters into his own hands, for the sake of Mia, it sets off a hive-mentaility zombie rampage, and the film then turns to color for the riot; all the better to see the blood, gore, and make-up. Now, this is not the first recent film to use B&W and color to represent different aspects of zombiedom (2007’s Wasting Away comes to mind), but it is exceedingly creative in its use of the ‘chromes and camera work. The story, is especially worth noting as, like I said, this takes a new spin on a very common genre, adding to it rather than taking away from it to the point of being distracting (e.g., I find it annoying when vampires are in daylight…I’m looking right at you, Twilight).

It’s hard to believe that this is the first feature for Benjamin Roberds and Jordan Reyes, because they really do have a good eye for angles, beats/editing, and working with new film actors (well, according to IMDB). Picking Chandler as the lead was a wise choice. He has an everyman look, so it’s easy to believe him in the role, and though some of the actions Clay takes are questionable, most of his motives are not; although I have to ask, really? Todd? For your almost sister-in-law? Mia is a bit of a flake, who would probably have been a hippie in the late ‘60s. She’s a bit of a clouded thinker, though if she lives long enough, would probably be an “earth mother” type. Boehnke plays her as a woman-child, thrilled by life (and death; she knits a cap for Gerry so he won’t be cold), and seems to relish the role. She hops and skips with joy even when surrounded by the dead, and yet as wacked out as she gets sometimes (the description of clouds is worth playing over), Boehnke somehow managed to keep her both likeable and attractive.

As for Moody, I realize his character, Todd, is stilted and on the verge of explosion at all times (and occasionally beyond the verge), but the acting is as stiff as the role. Either this is a great performance or a bad one, it’s hard to tell. Moody is particularly hard to read. I’m hoping this is the goal, because he really comes off as wooden. With one exception, everyone else in the cast is either zombie or zombie (potential) fodder.

I love that they have incorporated both slow and fast zombies in a way that totally makes sense. That was an ingenious touch that added to the mythos, changing juuuuust enough. There is plenty of red stuff, which in liquid form is often too dark and too thick, but I’m not going to quibble about that, because it still looked fine. Most of the make-up effects by Tylar Carver are quite good, some excellent, so considering this is his first listed credit, kudos and a nod to Tylar!

The extras are a bunch of trailers from Wild Eye (always appreciate that, WE) and a couple of under 2-minute promo shorts.

As zombie films go, this one stands out for me. It has a bit of humor, some off-beat characters, some very real ones to me (such as the boss droning and reading the government-issued rules on engaging zombies, sort of like how we were read the “Don’t be sexist” guidelines in one job I had), an imaginative reimagining of an oft-used genre, and for the shot of adrenaline that starts the second act. Even if you see the ending coming, it’s still a well done film, and I am looking forward to more from this Atlanta, GA team.

Images from the Internet

Slimy Little Bastards

Written and directed by Dave Parker

66 minutes, 2015

www.facebook.com/SlimyLittleBastards

I’ve never met Dave Parker, haven’t even had a real conversation with him online. However, I am still impressed by his progress in the genre. He started out (and continues in this capacity) as a video review vlogger under the name of MrParka (yes, one word, and worth checking out). Then he started acting (e.g., Bath Salt Zombies [2013] and Headless [2015]), and now he’s directed his first – er – filmella… so what do you call a film that is longer than a “short” but shorter than a feature? I just adopted the “novella” to film terms. No big whoop.

Anyway, for his first shot at fictional directing (he also directed a documentary short), it only makes sense that (a) it’s in the horror genre, and (b) he has people around him he’s been working with for a while, such as director/actor/SFX maven/puppeteer Mills, and actors Erin R. Ryan and Brandon Salkil. Wise move, m’man.

So, if you have watched hundreds of indie horror films every year, seeing some of the best and the worst, and you decided to hop on the wagon yourself, what would you decide to choose as your topic? Cleverly, Parker chose the anthology.

Brandon Salkil

The three stories have a wrap-around in the basement of a mysterious man in a red cape (Cary Ewell look-alike Salkil). He receives a shipment of three vials with, well, slimy things (looks like Jell-O). Y’see, he’s a collector of “rare creatures,” such as the (puppet) Nippler, who is somewhat reminiscent of the Scred puppet from early Saturday Night Live. He tells these tales to a gun-toting mysterious man (Keith Voight Jr.) who claiming his car broke down. Salkil chews more scenery than the slimy bastards munch on humans, but actually, that’s the role, and Salkil kills it with a humorous turn. I’ve seen him do some serious stuff (e.g., Skinless [2013]) and the man can act. Here, he ahcts!

First up is “Organic Shit,” about a shy, hungry man (Jeremy Ryan) who doesn’t talk and moves very precisely (autistic?). His apartment (I am going to assume its Parkers’ in real life as it is filled with DVDs; it is used in all three stories), after coming back from I’m presuming work, he has some strange green stuff coming out of his drain. He contacts the maintenance man (Mills) with a very funny and fake Russian?/Polish? accent. If you’ve seen the Blob, you may get some idea of the germination of this story. However, even with a few actual jump scares, it ends quite humorously (don’t worry, I won’t give it away), and definitely not how I expected.

Erin R. Ryan

The second tale is of the blue Jell-O, called “Brain Busters.” Poor Sandy (the underrated Erin R. Ryan) is going through a period of depression, thanks in part to a previous childhood bully (Salkil) and guilt-inducing mother (Melinda Parker…Dave’s mom?). She is under the care of a psychologist (Mills) who gives her an experimental psychotropic medication to put in her ear. Of course, the effects are not what are expected.

While this story also has humor, it is also a lot more dramatic and definitely more artistically shot than the previous one. Usually, the way many anthologies work, is they put a decent one to start, the weakest in the middle, and the best for last. Well, that’s not true here, nearly completely because of Ryan (I am a self-admitted fan from her previous work). She takes what could be a silly tale and turns it into an emotional one on a level you might not expect. My analogy is she’s like someone who takes a temp job and then just works the hell out of it and impresses everyone.

Also, as I said, Parker shows some bolder artistic moves, using stylish editing, some accurate casting and more thoughtful storytelling in general, even with something as goofy as this creature is, apparently.

Dave Parker (aka MrParka)

“The Crusties” is the third and longest piece. After meeting a crusty (pun intended) construction worker named Walter (MrParka) who accidentally eats some green goop that somehow got on his sandwich at a work site, we are introduced to a bunch of his friends, including most of the cast (sans Erin) playing themselves; they all meet to play a game of D&D (is that still a thing anymore?). There is a lot of scatological humor in this episode, and the one about gas station nachos had me laughing (and, bringing back specific, unpleasant memories). So while the guys are playing the game, in walks Walter who immediate hits the water closet, and squirts out more of the green goo, which turn into said juggalo Crusties creatures bent on killing our out-of-their-league – er – heroes.

Okay, I’m going to come out and say it, but please stick around. This story is stupid as shit (pun, again, intended), but honestly, I believe it was supposed to be. What I mean is, generally, you get to see some of the cast and crew having a blast together, and that transmits out to the audience, if you’re open minded to it. I do believe if you’re watching this, there is a good chance you’re in that fortunate frame of mind.

The Crusties

Much of the gore in the film is seen pretty often, albeit a bit cartoonish, with occasional bits being beautiful, such as the ear gag in “The Crusties.” The make-up and slime in the wraparound were mostly by Brandon’s (hey big guy, how youse doin’?!) spouse, Sherriah Salkil, also part of the Mills merry collective, and the puppets were created by Jeremy Ryan, which are as fakey looking as possible. In fact, it is to the point where I believe that it was supposed to be that way, for comic effect, leaning towards the Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959) level (e.g., the floating “Crustie”). If that’s so, I consider that a success.

Making films can be like poetry or masturbation: it should be done for oneself, but except in the case of the latter, it’s one’s personal passion put out to the public. It’s important to know about the source as much as it is for the source to understand their audience. And this is definitely geared towards the Dustin Mills audience (and beyond-yond-yond [if this was audio, there would be an echo effect there]), especially since Mills has recently delved into the darker side of the Tormentsubgenre. This is a good way to reach The Puppet Monster Massacre (2010) audience that may have been felt left behind, but still like the Mills group.

Okay, I understand that Parker is not Mills, but it’s essentially the same body with a different head. I’m sure Mills was there helping along, and rightfully so… I would want someone with experience in my corner; when Young Frankenstein (1974) was created, for example, there were segments actually directed by Gene Wilder under Mel Brooks’ direction, to prepare him for helming The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother (1975). It’s all good.

Most of the cast is also most of the crew, as is common in micro-budget filming (the cost is listed as $1000, and I’ll bet most of that went to supplies for creating the puppets and gore, and largely for the cast’s food), and for a first time out, Parker was in good hands. The end result is something that is goofy, ridiculous, funny, and mostly an end product to be proud of, in my opinion. I’m looking forward to your next excursion, MrParka!

Caesar and Otto’s Paranormal Halloween

Written, produced, directed and edited by Dave Campfield
Fourth Horizon Cinema / R and Productions / Wild Eye Releasing
89 minutes, 2015
www.CaesarAndOtto.com
www.WildEyeReleasing.com
www.mvdvisual.com

This is not your father’s Caesar and Otto. Let me ‘splain.

The Caesar and Otto franchise is like the Abbott and Costello collection (and I certainly am not the first to make that comparison) in that they are a series of films about the same two characters; here, they are half-brothers who share a dad, and have a deeply conflicted love-like-hate relationship.

Caesar (Dave Campfield) and Otto (Paul Chomicki)

In previous films, Caesar and Otto’s Summer Camp Massacre (2009) or Caesar and Otto’s Deadly Xmas (2012), Caesar Denovio (Dave Campfield) was pretty unlikeable, kind of like Stinky Davis (a pre-Three Stooges Joe Besser) character from the “The Abbot and Costello Show” (1952). The character also had a weird, halting, annoying voice. Well, here’s the change: Caesar has matured – a bit – and some of what made him so criticized has been taken away. He’s not as one-dimensional and shallow, he’s not as mysteriously girlish (despite the opening sequence), and he’s definitely not as mean. Don’t get me wrong, Caesar’s not a guy you necessarily want to hang out with, but Campfield has done a spectacular job revisioning him as a fuller, more realistic character, and occasionally likeable, which makes it easier to identify with him without taking away what makes Caesar Caesar. Oh, and that voice is mostly gone. From the commentary, that also works well with/for Campfield.

Less is changed about Otto Denovio’s (Pau Chomicki) slovenly demeanor, but he is also softened a bit. He was always likeable, but here he becomes more of a big, smelly (wash that orange shirt already!) teddy bear, still looking for love, or for this film, his long-lost, thought-to-be-dead mommy (Beverly Randolph, one of the leads in 1985’s The Return of the Living Dead). One thing that hasn’t changed I’m happy to say is that Otto’s voice, or rather his Lon’Gyland (aka Long Island) accent, is still front and center.

With many horror comedy films, you can view this as just plain silly, but if you are wise to the ways of indie spoof horror, you will recognize just how smart a film it actually is; definitely the strongest of the series to-date. I may be giving away too much too early, but I enjoyed all of this film.

One of the smartest things about the premise, which I’ll get to shortly, is that Campfield breaks down the fourth wall to make many meta comments, such as the fact that in most of the Paranormal Activity franchise, nothing happens, until the very end, the rest being dull. But the meta part is the indication that like reality television, the found footage subgenre is actually a sneaky way to make inexpensive films with little crew (e.g., no camera people because it’s either the actors who are doing the shooting, or the cameras are just mounted on walls), yet tend to bring in decent bucks.

Another finger to the side of the nose is the in-jokes that follow through all of the CandO films, such as Avi K. Garg’s Police Chief character getting seriously hurt but being okay, and losing limbs that are just resewn on again and agan (his “Oh, come on!” line reading is hysterical; oh, and shhh, check out the Easter Egg commentary by him). Additionally, there is the main villain, the nearly Satanic Jerry (Ken MacFarlane) and his minion, Roberta (Samantha Barrios), who return from previous CandO excursions. Also, CandO themselves have some shticks they repeat, such as jumping out of a moving car when mad (it’s a humorous bit).

JamieLee Ackerman

The plot is, well, bizarrely fun and a bit all over the place, as is almost always true in spoof comedies because there is so many references (more on that later). Our hapless bros and their scene-stealing father, Fred (Scott Aguilar) take a job housesitting for Jerry’s mysterious mansion for the season, where lots of weird and Ooo-WEE-oo (hear that as played by a Theremin) paranormal activity seems to be happening. There are also two servants, one a lovely lass gardener named Gilda (Josephine Iannece, aka JoJo, aka Campfield’s real-life girlfriend), and the other a quiet and kind of scary chef, Kyla (JamieLee Ackerman, posessing a lovely Irish lilt), who always seems to be carrying something sharp. Next door to the abode are a couple of high IQ’d retired Playboy bunnies, Jamie (Troma queen Tiffany Shepis) and Judy (Stef Barkley).

Like most of the CandO franchise, it always feels like it’s a mix of horror and a kind of twisted 1930’s farce in that the action and the dialog happen really fast (thus I recommend more than a single viewing since I had noticed things all the times I watched it). It’s important to pay attention, because things come and go so quickly around here. This is true of the especially subtle bits, such as someone getting slapped and the sound is off-sync’d, or words and hints that are written in the background with magnetic letters.

Some of the references are pretty obvious (Halloween [a mix of 1978 and 2007], Paranormal Activity [2007], The Shining [1980], etc.), but picking out some of the hopelessly obscure ones are also fun. For example, and I’m not sure if this was intentional or not, the half-circle openings on the porch reflect nicely on the “eyes” of the house in The Amityville Horror (1979), also referenced within the story. Adding a clip from the Campfield short Piggyzillamay also reference the pig seen in the window of the original Amityville. Perhaps I am overreaching?

Brinke Stevens and Brinke Stevens (check your pants)

Every opportunity is taken to inject some humor with a nod and a wink, such as some title cards; for example a church called Our Lady of Low Production Values. Most of the dialog is filled with nuggets: Jerry mentions that previous caretakers at his house went crazy from isolation (sound familiar?), but when we see the house, it’s just on a suburban street. Or there is a brief commercial for stronger deadbolt locks, reflecting on an earlier, funny gag. Another throwaway bit, again about previous housesitters, is mentioning “that guy who resembled James Brolin and tried to kill his whole family, and then married Yentl.” Then, as the Fred tells Otto, “…Your mother died a couple of years before you were born.” Did I mention that two grave diggers are named Lenny and George (no mention of rabbits, though)?

There is also a very sly bit with an exorcist priest named Fr. Jason Steiger, named after two horror priest actors, Jason Miller (d. 2001) of 1973’s The Exorcist and Rod Steiger (d. 2002) of The Amityville Horror (joyfully played by CandO regular Deron Miller), where he’s turn over to the “Vatican Police” by a fellow priest named Jude (John Thomassen) for $30. These lines are spoken so fast, it’s easy to miss some of these gems. And if you think I have said too much, I have barely put my paddle to the water.

Maximo "Frank" Sorrentino and Felissa Rose

An additional gem is the maaaaaany cameos that show up frequently. To name drop just a few, there is the ever lovin’ Debbie Rochon (too many great films to credit just one), Andre Gower (lead kid in The Monster Squad [1987]), Sean Whalen (Twister [1996]), Vern Wells (the main mohawked villain of Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior [1981]), Brinke Stevens who is one of foremost scream queens of the modern VHS-and-beyond era (as a twin wallet-stealing ghost; again, too many credits to pick), and Paul Guay (creator and co-writer of 1987’s Liar, Liar). In a really nice and thoughtful placement as a media-minded married couple who deal with psychic interactions, are Maximo “Frank” Sorrentino (of the TV show “The Sorrentinos,” and brother of “Jersey Shore’s” “The Situation” Sorrentino) and Felissa Rose (actor / producer of indie films). Why is this so exquisite? Because they were both together in the early slasher classic Sleepaway Camp (1983); Rose was the lead.

There is some well-done gore (e.g., head smashed under a car wheel) as well as some cheesy stuff (a mannequin head, for example, in a fantasy sequence). For nudity, as is consistent with a CandO film, there is a single acknowledgedly gratuitous topless generic scene (in Deadly Xmas, it was in a shower, here it’s at a strip club). Doesn’t matter, it’s the story that still keeps you in your seat.

Now, let’s talk about some of the extras on this loaded disk. First, there is an interesting commentary with Campfield, Iannece and Ackerman. A second commentary has a number of cast and crew, including Chomicki and Aguilar; it gets a bit hectic telling who’s who, and there is some talking over each other, but there’s lots of good info, as well. The viewer also gets a short Blooper Reel, a Facebook promo video with Campfield and Ackerman, a really nice tribute to the late cult actor Robert Z’Dar (d. 2015), a 50+-minute on-set audio podcast interview with Campfield and cast members (including Rochon), and the complete “Son of Piggyzilla Trilogy (commentary available), which lasts 6 minutes. Of course, this being a part of Wild Eye Releasing, there are a number of cool trailers, some of which I’ve had the pleasure to review.

For everything I whined like a little bitch about the last film, that’s how much I liked this one. It is a really good laugh, a well-researched film, and an attention keeper – especially for those genre geeks – from the first second to the last. There have been plenty of horror spoofs, such as the Scary Moviefranchise, A Haunted House (2013; the sequel was in 2014) and Vampire’s Suck (2010), with the exception of the first Scary Movie (2000), they all fall to the wayside in comparison.

So make sure you stick around for the final credits, as always with a CandO film, and I’m looking forward to the reported next film in the franchise, Caesar and Otto’s Spring Break of the Living Dead.

Extreme Metal Retardation

Directed by Bill Zebub
Bill Zebub Productions
120 minutes, 2009 / 2012
www.billzubub.com
www.mvdvisual.com

When he isn’t making comedy/horror films like The Worst Horror Film Ever Made: The Re-Make (2008) and ZombieChrist (2010), New Jersey-based director Bill Zebub makes metal-related documentaries.

Now, his docs are not your typical talking heads’ “What got you into metal?” kind of deal, his questions are from left field and catch the bands off guard, even though they obviously know him from past experiences.

One of the more interesting aspects of this is trying to guess whether the bands are going to get really pissed off at the audacity, or laugh really hard at the moxy. To me, which side the band falls on tells a lot. If you’ve seen any of Zebub’s large canon of work, both fiction and non-, he is an instigator. He likes to get a rise out his audience, but also from whomever he’s talking to at that moment, including his cast and crew. Well, that he uses the word “retardation” in the title shows he is a gladiator against what he deems as PC, which also includes words that are both gender and racially sensitive, and bandy them around. Y’gotta love him or hate him for that.

Metal Retardation was first released by itself in 2009, but with the addition of some of the extras, it was rechristened with the Extremeat the start. If this was an advertising campaign, it might say “New and Improved.”

I’m going to admit right at the onset that I don’t know crap about death metal or its cousins. I’m first wave punk, and the closest I come is liking bands like Adrenolin OD (saw them play a couple of times in the ‘80s), Chesty Malone and the Slice ‘Em Ups (saw them a few times, too, but more recently) and arguably the Ramones (who I probably saw easily more than a dozen times between 1975 and 1980. So how will I approach this DVD? Well, sort of the same way I handle going to professional sports games, which I apparently know more about through cultural osmosis than enjoy following any particular team. I’ll be looking at it for the surroundings, the tone, the personalities, and how it all falls together.

The joyfully lopsided ride begins with an extended interview with drummer Fenriz, of Darkthrone. It takes place at 2:30 AM when both he and the interviewer are drunk. It’s a fun, rambling mess. I did laugh when he put on some vinyl of “Rock’n’Roll Gas Station.”

There are many bands interviewed here, such as Alestorm, Arch Enemy, Arkona, Borgir, Dimmu, Enslaved, Ensiferum, Enthroned, Huntress, King Diamond, Kreator, Primordial, Septic Flesh, Tyr, and Voivod.

The humor level definitely runs from deft to daft. For example of the former, after someone asks Voivod about their influences, Bill interrupts and asks the band, “How original are questions about your influences?” As for the latter, he asks Sharlee D’Angelo of Arch Enemy, “How important is penis size to a Scandinavian?” In the first case, the band found the question very enjoyable with a knowing laugh, with the second, he seemed kind of confused.

Bebub is helped along the way by a few interviewers such as Layla (if I got the name correct), a metal fan who usually asks some decent questions along the way, but is not afraid to put her own sense in, or to ask questions that has some bands scratching their heads (e.g., about pirates). She is a good yin to Bill’s yang as he handles the camera, because his questions are totally out there, such as asking what someone will wear for Halloween, or inquiring Jill Janus of Huntress if she was ever a man; another good example is when he asks D’Angelo if he’s ever been known to say “I love my Good & Plenty?” What makes ridiculous questions like these so interesting is (a) odds are these bands who have had multiple interviews have never been asked these questions before so do not have set answers, and (b) it completely catches them off-guard, even when they don’t understand the question (for example, the answer to the Good & Plenty one was an honest, “I don’t know; have I?”). D’Angelo says it best when he refers to these innately inane questions as “Zebubisms.”

Though some from the US and Canada, most of the bands interviewed are from Europe, such as Greece, Germany and Russia; most of them, however, are from the Scandinavian Bloc, arguably the epicenter of Black Metal. Sometimes, because of that, part of the joy of this pure silliness is sometimes there is a language barrier, but the questions are just so out there, that even with that, the band members seem to be having a genuinely good time, and that tends to flow over to the other side of the screen to the viewer.

For the observer watching this, it’s important to have a bit of a thick skin because it seems like Zebub's whole existence, be it in his documentaries to his fiction-based films, is to get a rise out of, well, everyone. This is part of why I have said more than once that I’m guessing he is either a gas to hang out with or a complete asshole (perhaps both). Questions are often in complete bad taste, such as calling something “gay,” referencing swastikas (not the ideology behind it, though), or inviting bands to smack Layla.

It’s a lot of fun, and to take it from another perspective, it would have been easy to have made this all about Zebub in a reign of Zebub, but even though the queries are completely ludicrous, the film still mostly manages to make this about the band’s reactions more than about Zebub’s questions. I’m kinda relieved about that. It also makes for a much more interesting documentary. Sure, he’s part of it rather than impartial (though, of course, there really isn’t anything as objective, no matter what the Ayn Randites believe), but he doesn’t dominate (okay, he occasionally does); he’s more the moat around the medieval castle.

Mixed in with all the interviews is music by many of the bands represented here. Some are live and some are professionally shot band videos. What I especially appreciate is that most are them are complete, rather than just snippets. The one thing I did find a bit disappointing was the lack of credits for the nearly half dozen interviewing personnel in the main feature. .

The extras are an additional, 37-minute single-camera interview with King Diamond of the band – er – King Diamond, and a complete film, reviewed directly below.

Am I converted metal fan after watching nearly 4 hours of the feature and both the extras? No, and yet I still enjoyed the package.

Metalheads: The Good, the Bad and the Evil

70 minutes, 2008
As always, Bill Zebub plays Bill. He’s kind of a one note actor that way, but on the other hand, he plays himself well, probably because he’s playing himself (or some version of it).I’m trying to say this actually in a positive way. He’s kind of a man-child, as if he were mentally stuck at age 15: horny, daring, and obnoxious as all get out.

His girlfriend, Elaine (Emily Thomas) is both charming and abrasive at the same time. A scene where she has taken some acid and is completely paranoid is (or should be) a classic. On the other hand, she’s is nagging Bill because he is perpetually jobless and doesn’t have a car to take her out, or to go on dates. On the third hand, I kinda agree with her; both parties should try being self-sufficient in a relationship.

Bill wants Elaine to marry him; however, tired of Bill’s attitude (and supposed small genitalia, a running joke [?] through his films), Ellaine first hits on Bill’s bestie, Rich (Tom Goodwin). This opens a possible floodgate for her, Meanwhile, Bill has started to hang out with a tough guy with a brilliant New Jersey accent (Carl Williamson, credited only as “”Evil Metalhead”), who is violent, super macho, and thinks being a bully is being a man (I grew up with the disco versions these kinds of guys in my neighborhood of Bensonhurst). In an uncomfortable scene, he gets an underage girl (though the actress, Kathy Rice, is not) drunk and de-virginizes her off-screen. There are lots of scenes of nudity and masturbation by various characters, but not any detailed onscreen sex.

Some of the dialog, while most of it seemed ad libbed, was pretty funny. For example, during a fight with Elaine, Bill yells, “I’m gonna have a girlfriend who doesn’t listen to KISS, like you do, because the only time a metal band should have the word baby in a song is if it’s about killing babies.” Later, the bad dude tries to egg Bill on with, “You’re living with the volume turned down. I’m gonna show you how to crank it up.”

Despite the comedy level of most of the film, it does not end on an upbeat, so be warned. Still worth watching if you’re into a micro-budget, metal focused story.

Unrelated, bonus video:

The Death of April

Written and directed by Rubin Rodriguez
Mojo Creative Group / itn distribution
86 minutes, 2012 / 2015
www.itn distribution.com
www.mojogroup.tv
www.facebook.com/deathofapril
www.mvdvisual.com

After college, Meagan Mullen (Katarina Hughes) moves from her family in California to Bayonne, NJ (isn’t that punishment enough?) for a teaching job. And then there is something other-worldly going on in her apartment.

Mixing documentary style (“based on a true story…”) and found footage, we learn right from the start that something has happened to Meagan, as she is referred to in past tense, so there is no spoiler alert there. Her mom (Stephanie Domini), dad (Travis Peters) and law school student older brother (Adam Lowder), among others, reminisce about what a wonder kid she was, and beautiful person she turned out to be, while we see real VHS home video clips and photos of Hughes as she was growing up. This is a really nice touch.

Katarina Hughes as Meagan Mullen

Being a child of modern technological and mediated culture, Meagan is constantly video selfie-ing herself as a record to send home, which is a lovely thought, but man, the ego is tremendous. Is there anyone who actually needs to have this much of their life recorded?

But, of course, there’s the mysterious goings on, such as a door in the background opening and closing by itself behind her, or a strange shadow that crosses over the camera. Didn’t anyone else (i.e., family and friends) watch them? No matter what happens she stays there; I kept thinking of the Eddie Murphy routine from Delirious (1983) where he talks about white people staying in haunted places. Why didn’t someone tell her to get the fuck out? While spending half the time whining about sounds keeping her away or clothes that have been pulled out of drawers and end up on the floor, she claims she’s happy there, as well.

As you may have guessed by this point, this borrows liberally from the Paranormal films. What that means, of course, is that while Meagan or anyone else is in front of the camera, you’re not looking at them, you’re looking behind to see if any spookiness is slinking by. After a while, that stops though, as there is a “tell” (a poker term; look it up) where there is some “noise” on the image, sort of like digital static, just before something occurs (most of the time). As Michael Palin said in Monty Python, “Oh! What a giveaway!”

Perhaps on some level, Meagan brought this all on herself; it seems she would play with an Ouija board trying to conjure spirits at some point (pre-Jersey), and it is possible the spirits or poltergeist followed her, is one of the implications. After all, Meagan does a couple of strange things even before moving to Jersey, such as standing in the back yard during a rain staring at nothing.

One thing that kept sticking in my mind is that everyone keeps going on and on about how wonderful, open, cheerful, positive, etc., Meagan was, and I kept thinking that this is defensive behavior, because it was just too over the top, in a “the lady doth protest too much” (Hamlet, FYI) way. But I’m not even halfway through the film yet, so we’ll see, eh wot?

The entity in question is a riddle. Is it said poltergeist, is it the ghost of April (Paulina Grochala, who was also the lead character in a short film by Rodriquez called Faust, which is also centered around an Ouija board) who was murdered in the apartment before Meagan moved in, or is it possibly a demon as one character (Amy Rutledge) posits? April’s murder becomes an obsession for Meagan. Wisely for the story, there are a lot of open questions at the end, rather than sewing it up nicely, for which I’m grateful.

The film relies more on spooky happenings than on anything else, and while there is a scene with some blood, this is hardly what one could call a gorefest. If you’re looking for some exposed body parts, well, that’s completely out of the question. What you will see is some decent acting, an okay story that would be better suited at an hour rather than full feature length (but then again, I feel that way about most movies I review), and some nice jump scares. What you won’t find is anything related to the DVD cover image other than the aforementioned Ouija board. Oh, and the only extra is the trailer (as seen below).

This is totally a digression, but I once owned an Ouija board. At some point it unnerved me so much, I took an axe to it, and threw it in three different garbage containers around the neighborhood. Did not like the mojo.

As far as recommendations go, yeah, if you liked the Paranormal films, or enjoy stories of possession or supernatural events or things that literally go bump in the night, you might be pleasantly surprised.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWJwSBFf8yE

Review: Throwback

Two Reviews: Reminiscence: The Beginning; Memory Lane

DVD Review: Clive Barker Origins: Salome; The Forbidden

DVD / Blu-Ray Review: Spider Baby

Review: American Guinea Pig: Bouquet of Guts and Gore

Review: Killer Rack

Review: The Fappening - The Director's Cut

DVD / Blu-Ray Review: Jack Hill's Pit Stop

Review: Bite School

Review: The Changing of Ben Moore

Two Real Crime Film Reviews: House on the Hill; My Name is A, By Anonymous

Review: She Kills

Review: Flesh for the Inferno

Review: Hobo With a Trash Can

Review: Scream Machine: Unrated

Review: A Plague so Pleasant

Review: Slimy Little Bastards

Review: Caesar and Otto’s Paranormal Halloween

Review: Extreme Metal Retardation

Review: The Death of April