Category: Repeat Offenders

You know, it's never a good sign when the second victim of a slasher movie casually throws out an insightful synopsis of the events to come in the first ten minutes of the movie:

"These tourist traps are all alike. They give you a big build up, and when you get there it's nothing but a roadside trap with a bunch of cheap trinkets."

— Eileen (Lolita, heart-shaped sunglass wearer; asphyxiation-by-scarf victim)

Prior to the ominous warning, two carloads of nubile teens merges into one after the first car encounters a flat tire on a back road somewhere off the highway. Woody, the ripped-ab driver of the first car pushes his flat tire to the nearest gas station and ends up falling victim to a supernatural impalement by a lead pipe after being confronted by a menagerie of automatons in the back room of a deserted bar. But wait, it gets weirder. The second car of teens picks up Woody's traveling companion, and the gang eventually ends up following his trail to Slausens' Lost Oasis, an old-timey house of wax road-side attraction. While driver Jerry tries to figure out what is up with his suddenly failed transmission, the three girls in his car set out to exploring in their tube tops and hot pants and naturally end up skinny-dipping in a pond. (The lone tube top hold out is final girl Molly who is demurely dressed not unlike Holly Hobbie.) Whilst frolicking and splashing about topless, as girls in the late ‘70s were wont to do, their fun is interrupted by the shotgun wielding Mr. Slausen (square-jawed CHUCK CONNERS) who invites the young ladies back to his creep-tastic wax museum. Back at the super-boring museum filled with mannequin displays of Davey Crocket, Sitting Bull and the like, Slausen cautions the girls not to leave and to not go near the house located behind it. He claims that his brother Davey, who is responsible for crafting all the piss-poor wax figures in the museum lives in the house and shouldn't be disturbed. Naturally, the trio splits up and Eileen (ROBIN SHERWOOD) meets her demise in the off-limits house. Becky (CHARLIE'S ANGELS most forgettable angel TANYA ROBERTS) ventures after Eileen and ends being held captive in the wax-museum workshop basement in the off-limits house along side the driver of the second car Jerry, where they witness the plasticization murder of some other random young gal who happened upon Slausen's Lost Oasis looking for gas. Their captor, presumably the aforementioned brother Davey, first wears a wax mask resembling a bloated ELIZABETH TAYLOR meets SHAYE SAINT JOHN in a dark alley before swapping it out for an even creepier ROBERT GOULET-looking mask (Later in the film, it gets even more surreal when he dons a LINDA EVANS mask). This leaves goody-two shoes Molly (JOCELYN JONES), who Slousen has taken a shine to, to figure out what has happened to her friends, and what is up with Slousen's wax shrine to his late wife. Eventually Molly figures it all out (SPOILER ALERT!): there is no brother, Slousen is completely cuckoo and the man behind the ROBERT GOULET mask.

Released in 1979, the undeniable May-December sexual tension between Molly and Mr. Slausen in TOURIST TRAP is evocative of the questionable dynamic later exhibited in 1980's MOTEL HELL between motel proprietor Vincent Smith and motorcyle-crash hanger-on-er Terry. What differentiates the two, and makes TOURIST TRAP all the more enjoyable, is Slausen's completely unexplained supernatural powers. He can close windows, he can make mannequins move, he can even strangle a girl with a scarf without using his hands. He is pretty amazing in my book, and it's his surreal powers that elevate his wax museum from being just, "a roadside trap with a bunch of cheap trinkets" to a destination I'd like to check out on my next vacation.

• Woody's impalement via a flying pipe, amongst the other projectiles that are launched at him while he is trapped (very evocative of Margaret White's demise in CARRIE)
• Eileen ties on a scarf a bit too tight
• Sitting Bull takes out TANYA ROBERTS with a tomahawk
• The SHIELDS AND YARNELL-esque movements of the supposed wax figures
• The closing shot with Molly and her dummy pals driving down the highway

 

Great googily moogily, what in the name of hell is wrong with MAUSOLEUM? Why is it such a sleazy f-d up train wreck from the opening scene to the last? The acting is exhausting to witness, the story seems shoved through a shredder and then pieced back together using duct tape, and every scene is filmed in the ugliest way humanly possible. I feel like I need a SILKWOOD shower scrub right about now. What's it about? Hey, I'm just the guy who finished watching it how should I know? It's something about a lady (big boobied BOBBIE BRESEE who was nominated for the now meaningless SATURN award for her role) who gets possessed by a demon and then screws and kills anyone she comes in contact with. All I know is that MARJOE GORTNER was the voice of reason in this thing and that's never a good sign. The one shining spot (besides the bizarre special effects by FRIDAY THE 13TH PART IV: THE NEW BLOOD director JOHN CARL BUECHLER,… did I mention that BOBBIE's possession escalates to a point where she actually grows demon GHOULIE faces on her breasts?) is SANFORD AND SON's LAWANDA PAGE as the maid who basically speaks for the audience when she scans the situation, chugs some hooch, says, "Enough grieving, I'm leaving!" and heads for the hills to the sound of something not unlike the famous BENNY HILL tune. Yes that was probably the most backward, out of date, racist thing I've seen in a movie in a long time, but frankly I was with her! If there's ever a re-make I nominate myself to play that role. What good can I say about MAUSOLEUM? I gotta tell you, for all its ineptness it started freaking me out after a while not because the filmmakers had any clue of what they were doing, but just because the whole thing was so relentlessly sordid that it started to effect my view of the world at large. O.K., I admit it I did love all the scenes where possessed, glowing-eyed BOBBIE floated people into high spaces with her psychic powers and then dropped them to their deaths, I'll grant you that, but if I never see her seduce a delivery guy or a gardener again that will be fine by me. If you're like me and are constantly looking for new inventive ways to destroy the relationships in your life I suggest you track down MAUSOLEUM show it to someone who thinks they like you and then watch them head for the hills LAWANDA style!

• LAWANDA steals the movie
• Boobs with teeth
• Art gallery owner impaled on sculpture
• Aunt floating with visible crane
• "You thought I didn't exist!"

 

Here you go kids, knock yourself out: MAUSOLEUM's one shining moment of originality, purple demon boobs!MAUSOLEUM speaks to the primal male fear that once married, PLAYBOY BUNNY trophy wives will turn into RUTH BUZZI.         

 

The Brooks family lovely pot roast dinner is interrupted by a knock at the door from a military police officer bearing an ominous telegram which states that their only son Andy has been killed while serving in Vietnam. The following night it comes as an even bigger surprise to the family when Andy (RICHARD BACKUS) appears in the living room, seemingly alive and happy to be home. Mom (LYNN CARLIN) is super stoked to have her boy home, but Dad (JOHN MARLEY) has some serious reservations about Andy's oddly antisocial behavior. Andy refuses to speak unless spoken to, refuses to eat or drink anything, and would prefer to spend his days and nights manically rocking in his rocking chair ala Mrs. Bates. Andy also has major problems with the family dog Butch, and doesn't think twice about strangling the little mutt in front of a pack of horrified neighborhood kids. Before tearing off to the local bar to drown his miseries in a bottle of scotch, Dad accuses Mom of turning his son into a "Momma's boy" with her non-stop doting. What they both fail to realize is that Andy is acting super strange not because of over-mothering, but because he is a zombie and not the type that needs to eat brains to survive, but rather one who requires intravenous needle injections of fresh blood. The town doctor comes to realize this too late after performing a check-up on Andy and becomes his second victim (a truck driver is dispatched earlier in the flick). As with most undead needle users, Andy's complexion begins to shows signs of strain and chunks of skin begin falling off his hands. To disguise this, he dons mirrored sunglasses and black riding gloves before going on a double date at the drive-in with his former sweetheart, his sister, and her beau. Naturally, his addiction gets the best of him, and let's just say that his sister is the only one who makes it out of the double feature alive. Andy returns home covered in blood and into his Mom's waiting arms. Dad whips out the family gun, but ends up turning it on himself after Mom tactfully reminds him that you can't really kill the undead. The cops eventually show up looking for Andy, and one of the best mother/ undead son flaming car chases ensues around the town square and through the gates of the local cemetery.Written by ALAN ORMSBY (CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS) and directed by BOB CLARK (BLACK CHRISTMAS), DEATHDREAM (originally released under the title DEAD OF NIGHT) can be seen as a social commentary on the effects of war on man. Andy's needle usage is interesting twist on the plight of veterans who returned from the war hooked on heroin. Likewise, it also works as pretty unique examination of the bond between mothers and sons. The Mom point blank tells the daughter that she really never cared for her, and it's all about her little boy Andy. Even though her brother is the walking dead, sis still places a distant second in Mom's book. Released the same year as BLACK CHRISTMAS, fans of CLARK will enjoy his trademark use of exterior camera shots focusing on the action happening inside the windows of the house. This voyeuristic point-of-view removes you from the immediacy of the events and makes it seem all the more alien, just as it must seem from Andy's undead perspective. 

• Andy throttles the dog
• The doctor examines Andy to learn he has no pulse and audible heartbeat
• After killing his sweetheart, and sis's boyfriend, Andy plows over an innocent kid
• Did I already mention the mother/undead-son flaming car chase?

 

     

 

For the most part sequels deserve their bad reputations, more often than not they're simply insincere, diluted versions of the superior films they've spawned from. They're not inherently bad though, and when done well and with respect to their predecessors, they can add a multitude of additional layers and meaning to their namesakes. More importantly, they can reveal how a character has evolved over a period of time in a way that one lone film never can. The truth is, there are a lot of worthwhile and sometimes even brilliant sequels out there, so many in fact, that you can't really blame the studios for rolling the dice. Imagine a world without ALIENS, EVIL DEAD 2 or THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN and you'll see what I mean.On June 3rd 1983, 22 years after the original, and in the height of the slasher boom, Universal studies released a sequel to possibly the highest regarded horror film of all time, ALFRED HITCHCOCK's PSYCHO. This amounted to sacrilege to many (thank God the interwebs were not born yet), and although the film was a financial and, for the most part, critical success, there really wasn't a chance it could ever move beyond the shadow of the original. Well, it's now been MORE than 22 years since PSYCHO 2 was released, and I'm here to tell you it really deserves to be known as one of the best sequels of all time.What's really unusual is that when we last left Norman Bates (ANTHONY PERKINS) in the original PSYCHO, we had discovered that he was a multiple killer and completely insane. (SPOILER ALERT: If this is news to you, you are insane too). In the sequel he is the misunderstood hero who may or may not be "up to his old tricks again," and there's no question that the audience is meant to take his side either way. How often does this happen in horror movies? Norman goes from raving lunatic to final boy and never breaks a sweat. The script, by soon to be genre director TOM HOLLAND (CHILD'S PLAY, FRIGHT NIGHT), is a near perfect exercise in audience sympathy manipulation and has more twists than a crate of Slinkies. Director RICHARD FRANKLIN (ROAD GAMES) who's surely under the most scrutiny is able to pay constant tribute to HITCHOCK's famous mastery of suspense without ever going overboard into parody. Much of what he brings to the table is uniquely his own, the shots of the BATES HOUSE with ALBERT WHITLOCK assists are particularly remarkable. The supporting players (MEG TILLY, DENNIS FRANTZ, ROBERT LOGGIA and VERA MILES) are more than up to snuff, but they definitely have their work cut out for them playing against PERKINS who takes his signature role up to new, stunning, stuttering ("c-c-cutlery") heights. The soundtrack by JERRY GOLDSMITH is literally one of my all time favorites and truth be told, I'm listening to it at this very moment. PSYCHO 2 is exactly what a sequel should aspire to be, a wonderful addition that takes nothing away from the original.There probably wasn't any question since UNIVERSAL was essentially trying to cash in on the slasher boom by waking up NORMAN in the first place that a few bones would have to be thrown to the more bloodthirsty audience members. In my opinion, these scenes, one which involves a very well done butcher knife through a head, do exactly as they are required to do and in no way detract from the tight psychological tone already established. Purists may have wagged fingers at the time, but the original PSYCHO pressed the same envelope in its day, whether actual knife penetration was shown or not. Which brings me to the scene I've been dying to mention…Midway through the movie, two un-established teen characters break into the Bates house basement. It's sort of out of nowhere and that's why I love it. It's as if two characters from a FRIDAY THE 13TH movie playing in the theater next door just crashed the screen PURPLE ROSE OF CAIRO style. They are there to: 1. Smoke pot 2. Fool around sexually and 3. Be killed. It's great to see the ‘60s era Mrs. Bates take on these eighties teens and show them what's what old-school style. The scene begins and ends with an astounding aerial shot looking down from the top of the house. This little compartmentalized bon mot is such a great marriage of two separate horror era's defining imagery that it has always left me giddy. Some may view it as pandering to the times, but I think such bridges between decades should be commended rather than condemned. Interestingly, MEG TILLY's role was originally offered to JAMIE LEE CURTIS, eighties scream queen and daughter of original PSYCHO victim JANET LEIGH. TILLY, whose throat may have still been sore from screaming her head off in ONE DARK NIGHT, couldn't be better but I can't help imagining that PSYCHO II would be even more of a perfect hybrid of horror eras with CURTIS on the marquee. It certainly would have boosted the film's overall presence in the minds of die hard slasher fans. Whether you have never seen PSYCHO II, or if it's just been a long time since you have, do yourself a favor and give it a spin. Sure it's a sequel, but this baby is strong enough to stand on it's own two feet.    

 

 Julie Wells (a pre-PSYCHO II MEG TILLY) is sick of being known as a "pansy," so much so that she's willing to do anything to join a gang called "The Sisters." This group consists of a mere three girls, but since one of them is so cool that she perpetually sucks on a toothbrush and another is none other than sexy Muppet songstress/video vixen E.G. DAILY (BAD DREAMS) one can't blame her for wanting to join their illustrious ranks. Throw in a free satin jacket with "The Sisters" embroidered on the back in punky lightening bolt letters and you have an offer that's nearly impossible to refuse (at least back in 1983). Too bad the leader of the group secretly hates Julie's goody-two-shoe guts for dating her ex-beau and plans to make her initiation a living hell. Besides forcing the determined Julie to spend the night in a nearby mausoleum, The Sisters also decide that a few crazy-making pranks are in order involving rubber hands, green slime and goofy Halloween masks. What none of the girls realize is that an evil "psychic vampire" was recently shelved in the marble building and that the wattage in his psychic bulb is not yet entirely depleted. The murderous psychic psycho "Raymar" decides to start pulling his own pranks in order to scare the lot of them, subsequently draining their life force and allowing him to live once more. This involves shaking up TOM BURMAN flavored corpses and puppeteering them around the enclosed space in order to achieve the highest level of fright. This PG-rated affair may be low on body count (unless you count the five chicks shoved in Raymar's apartment closet), but it is high on sweetly ghoulish chills and major eighties nostalgia. TILLY hops the stepping stones required with ease and it's lamentable she didn't spend more time in the final girl zone. Too much time is spent involving a subplot with ADAM WEST and Raymar's also psychic daughter, and the shots of Raymar with lightening coming out of his eyes goes from gratuitous to mind numbing fast, but I can't think of any other film from this era that is so unabashedly non-mean spirited. Like an after-school special speckled with maggot infested corpses, ONE DARK NIGHT spices its high corn dose with a final course of gratifying necro-action that, to this day, stands as highly original. It's not too surprising that director TOM McLOUGHLIN went on to direct one of the more entertaining and jovial of the FRIDAY THE 13TH franchise, PART 6: JASON LIVES. No, these are not pictures from the coolest art installation ever; they are shots from ONE DARK NIGHT illustrating the incredible psychic power of Raymar!        

Based on a "posthumous collaboration" between H.P. LOVECRAFT and AUGUST DERLETH, 1967's THE SHUTTERED ROOM gained mucho frequent frightener miles during repeated television airings in the seventies. Susannah Kelton (CAROL LYNLEY) and her husband Mike (GIG YOUNG) return to her recently inherited childhood home on Dunwich Island in hopes that the property can be used as a summer retreat. It's clear upon their arrival that the local yokels are not too keen on city folk, as they try to ward the couple off with tales of an ancient curse and stories of a demon that's fond of burning one's eyes out. The native islander's inhospitality eventually expands to include unneighborly rape attempts on young LYNLEY whenever she's left alone. The biggest bully in the bunch is a swaggering, contorted cousin doing a swishy MARLON BRANDO impersonation named Ethan (OLIVER REED). Luckily, long in the tooth Hubby GIG is quick with cornball karate moves and is able to extinguish most of these pre-STRAW DOGS advances. The dwelling in question , which we really do not get to spend enough time in, is an ominous, genuinely spooky and sufficiently LOVECRAFT-IAN looking beast. The creaky witch lighthouse of old Aunt Agatha (FLORA ROBSON) is equally convincing in helping the U.K surroundings masquerade as New England. Unfortunately, the mostly British cast (some badly dubbed) don't fare quite as well. DAVID GREENE's direction offers some disturbing P.O.V. shots of whatever is hiding in the wings ready to pounce and the unlikely jazz score works well to establish a tone of near constant disorientation. LOVECRAFT's vision (even his questionable posthumous vision) is notoriously hard to pull off on screen (STUART GORDON excepted). THE SHUTTERED ROOM doesn't do much to change that theory and it's not because all the ingredients are not in place and ready to go. Hanging out with the townies while we should be investigating the titular room is eventually wearing. By the time the shock climax is unwrapped, viewers can be forgiven if they forgot they were watching a horror film at all. Although the entire affair is begging to be streamlined (could the shorter edit BLOOD ISLAND be an improvement?), THE SHUTTERED ROOM is offbeat and strange enough that it's reputation to unnerve is not that hard to fathom.

• Road skiing leads to barbed wire wipe out
• One-eyed welder on the welcoming committee
• Reed's obscene jeans
• Aunt Agatha's crazy-faced bird
• Hiding in the dollhouse
• Teddy bear torch! Best invention ever!

Even diehard LUCIO FULCI fanatics must admit that the director's oeuvre presents something of a roulette wheel to first time viewers. Although traditional coherency is never really an issue, the pendulum of success swings very wide in both directions. Will it be a visionary nightmare that you cannot wake up from like THE BEYOND, or just a nightmare that you can't stay awake for like MANHATTAN BABY? Will it be an influential mini-masterpiece with an unfortunate name like DON'T TORTURE A DUCKLING or will it feature a sleazy killer who talks in a duck's voice while he's torturing his unfortunate victims ala NEW YORK RIPPER? GATES OF HELL is not FULCI's best, but it rates rather high on the list thanks to a couple of simply unforgettable scenes and a sick relentless vibe that you just can't fake. It might not provide the simple pleasures of ZOMBIE or the campy fun of HOUSE BY THE CEMETERY, but it does provide a woman crying blood just before she vomits her intestines out. With apologies to TISA FARROW, it also sports one of FULCI's finest casts, which not only includes future THE BEYOND star CATRIONA MACCOLL, but also my personal favorite person on earth GIOVANNI LOMBARDO RADICE (HOUSE ON THE EDGE OF THE PARK) and GRIZZLY foe/playgirl centerfold/cigar enthusiast and all around lucky bastard CHRISTOPHER GEORGE. The horror begins when a priest hangs himself in the town of Dunwich, Massachusetts, which is not only built on the site of the original Salem (whatever that means) but also, if the soundtrack is any indication, suffers from an unlikely monkey infestation. For reasons high on the murky scale, the reverend's deed opens up some doorways that lead to hell and if someone doesn't get to closing said doors, the dead will walk the earth and pretty much spoil everything. Meanwhile the town is suffering from a hoard of supernatural occurrences ranging in seriousness from unsightly cracks in pub walls to maggot tornados and teleporting cadavers. With its Lovecraft love and various small groupings of people converging to battle uncanny elements and curses, GATES plays like JOHN CARPENTER's THE FOG's violent, hyperactive, Ritalin-starved borderline-mongoloid sibling. Whether intentional or not, FULCI pretty much invents splatvant-garde here and I'm pretty sure that if you have any idea of what's going on by film's end that you were not paying close enough attention. The film's final frames, in particular,r are blatantly indecipherable and have been attributed to the director's spontaneous experimentation with damaged footage in the editing room. In any case, the viewer better be willing to submit to G.O.H.'s lunatic charm or prepare for a rough ride, for once those gates are open, rationality exists first and it doesn't leave a forwarding address.


GIOVANNI LOMBARDO RADICE a.k.a. JOHN MORGHAN is the heart and soul of just about every movie he's in. His famous head-drilling scene in G.O.H. may be the goriest murder ever filmed. Giovanni's character, Dunwich's dead-baby hallucinating, blow-up doll loving town scapegoat "Bob" is confronted by a young girl's father who takes the law and (Bob's noggin) into his own hands and adds some ventilation to the poor guy's apparently already damaged head. Is the father possessed by the evil that has infected the town or is this just mayhem ala cart? I have yet to figure that one out, but I do know this scene has lost none of it's try not to flinch power.

Is there anything worse than being buried alive? Yes, being buried alive and having to rely on the lovable CHRISTOPHER GEORGE's slow-as-molasses-in-January detective skills to save you. FULCI wrings about as much tension as humanly possible out of his POE would-be-proud premature burial scene. Even after the goof is discovered, our beloved GEORGE decides to take a pick ax to the coffin rather than scan for latches and gets perilously close to making that whole dead thing stick by poking our already traumatized and thankfully un-embalmed heroine's eyes out. If you're still looking for realism after this scene you may be slower than GEORGE-y.

That's director MICHELE SOAVI (CEMETERY MAN) getting the back of his head ripped off right after having a make out session with his girlfriend spoiled by her sudden need to vomit up all her intestines.

Note: This review is part of THE FINAL GIRL FILM CLUB! 

While out on the town, good ol' boy Caleb Colton (ADRIAN PASDAR) meets a pouty young philly named Mae (I, MADMAN star and eighties fixture ROBIN WRIGHT) having her way with an ice cream cone. After some flirting, stargazing and hint-age that she's not your average girl, Mae realizes that time has flown and begins to panic. She's not worried about a whuppin' from her father like Caleb suspects, but is really concerned that the light of day is going to turn her into a pile of smoking ashes. Although the script by HITCHER scribe ERIC RED is careful not to use the word "vampire" Mae's nocturnal lifestyle choice is made explicit when rather than peck Caleb's cheek when she departs, she chomps on his neck. Now infected as well, Caleb's morning walk of shame across a field becomes life threatening when he himself begins to smolder in the light of the sun. Mae's maniacal makeshift family arrives just in time to offer some shade and an opportunity for recruitment, but not before Caleb's father Loy (TIM THOMERSON of DOLLMAN) and kid sis witness the occurrence and perceive it as a kidnapping. The rest of the film follows Caleb's attempts to fit in with the band of criminally minded undead rogues and his struggle with the dilemma of killing in order to survive. It ultimately comes down to choosing between the two families, the stable one he grew up with who are busy tracking him down or the obviously more exciting, dirty faced, roving pack of transgressive creatures of the night. Director KATHERYNE BIGELOW's hip, slick, blood sucking, spur twirling ode to the road is pretty impossible not to enjoy but it is NEAR DARK's incredible cast that takes it over the top. Fresh off of ALIENS is LANCE HENRIKSEN, JENETTE GOLSTEIN and never-satiated scene chewer BILL PAXTON as the charismatic killer clan (you may even notice ALIENS on the marquee of the movie theater in town). Not to be forgotten is the youngest member of the tribe, the preternaturally creepy JOSHUA JOHN MILLER from RIVER'S EDGE who plays Homer, an aging, cynical spirit trapped in a young boy's body and a cool WILLIAM BURROUGHS t-shirt. Born for cult worship, NEAR DARK is probably one of the most original vampire films ever made. Beyond the explosive action and indigo black humor, it never misses a beat showing the internal consequences of vampiric infection not only on the bitten but those that surround them.

• There's no forgetting the honkey tonk siege, violent and disturbing but always strangely humorous as well.
• The daytime shootout at the motel packs a wallop. You may actually find yourself concerned about the safety of these merciless, nearly unkillable maniacs.
• lil' Homer ignites

     

 

 At turns too classy and too sleazy for it's own good, 1981's THE INCUBUS flirts with being a distinguished marriage between the occult thrillers of the seventies and the slash-fests of its day but ends up falling a hair short on both accounts. Director JOHN HOUGH (THE LEGEND OF HELL HOUSE) has a superior eye and many scenes have a rustic gothic vibe perfect for the supernatural detective story. He's not done any favors by the repetitive script based on a RAY RUSSEL novel of the same name which spends much of its time discussing the qualities and quantities of seminal fluid found in various victim's bodies. Celebrated rogue director and ROSEMARY'S BABY alum JOHN CASSAVETES is his usual mesmerizing self as Dr. Sam Cordell who's bound and determined to make sense out of the quiet town of Galen's string of unexplained rape murders. His uncomfortably close daughter is portrayed by CLASS OF 1984 pixie chick ERIN NOBLE who is well up to the task of holding her own with the veteran actor's quirky naturalism. Out of place is the too glamorous KERRIE KEANE in an archaic and hammy nosey reporter role (her otherness may be explained by the film's ending, but by then it's too late). When it's working on all cylinders THE INCUBUS can be compared to the underrated EXORCIST 3, with its aging protagonist, vague dream inserts and relentlessly grim, uncanny tone, but its inconsistencies are hard to ignore. Information is repeated needlessly and some sections just seem randomly put together or completely out of order. Most frustrating is the ending, which is an admittedly surprising twist that deserves a much more aggressive presentation. Actually I'm not sure there's anything wrong here that an inspired editor could not fix, most horror fans have certainly done worse and there is definite talent on display, but ultimately the film's strong suites only serve to highlight its weaker ones, leaving the viewer lamenting the classic film that might have been. 

• A scenic gorge in Elora, Ontario Canada makes a memorable impression as a location for the first demonic attacks
• The Galen witchcraft library/museum is a suitably creepy spot 
• The slaughter of a father and his two daughters (one is showering, one is wheelchair bound) may feel tacked on, but it certainly helps fill the horror quotient
• Heavy metal god BRUCE DICKINSON has fun with fog and laser lights during a pre-bathroom stall rape musical interlude but the results are more FRANKIE GOES TO HOLLYWOOD than IRON MAIDEN
• Ending is spoiled by too short visit with title monster

 

  

 

What the hell is THE THING? Is it the greatest horror movie of all time? Is it the greatest science fiction movie of all time? Maybe it's just the greatest movie of all time. O.K, I'll try not to go too overboard, but we ARE talking about THE THING here, a movie that transforms, mutates and above all grows in size with each passing year. JOHN CARPENTER what have you made? Based on a 1938 novella by a then 28-year-old JOHN W.CAMPBELL entitled "WHO GOES THERE?" and previously brought to the screen in the form of 1951's THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD (this version was produced by and, some say, ghost directed by CARPENTER's idol HOWARD HAWKS), THE THING is that rare film that not only stands up to the test of time, but also gives the test of time a wedgie for looking at it funny. The story involves a research team in Antarctica who rightfully save a puppy from some PETA scoffing Norwegians (who wouldn't?) Unfortunately, the doggie's appreciative face licking is revealed to be a rouse when the canine's cranium splits apart and his body turns into a hodgepodge circus of tentacles, crab legs and toothy Venus Fly Trap style orifices. Its outlandish anatomy even comes equipped with a super soaker like device that squirts white puss all over the real (nice) dogs! He's no pet, he's THE THING and he's been bouncing around planets trying on other life form's DNA like he's shopping for shoes on Rodeo Drive for millions of years. THE THING can look, act and appear as anyone once it gets its gooey mitts into them, and that stirs up a heap of paranoia in this secluded outpost where dialing 911 is not an option and proper civilization is way out of reach. Now you may be saying to yourself, "Hey, why don't I just watch ALIEN and INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS back to back instead?" Well, you should do that anyway sometime but THE THING has so much more going for it than just that set-up. First of all, there is the incredible end of the globe environment that's just tailor made for J.C.'s widescreen love of the horizon line (we might as well be on the moon). Then there's the brilliantly sparse heart beat in a mother's womb score by ENNIO MORRICONE that lulls and startles with equal force. And finally, amongst an admirable cast of veteran character actors and newbies alike, you have KURT RUSSELL's R.J. MacReady, the kind of humbly stoic would-be loner type that used to be a familiar American archetype, but is sadly missing from the flotsam and jetsam films of today. This cowboy on an ice bank is a fallible, reluctant hero who knows how to say, "Fuck you too!" and mean it.  It's impossible to talk about THE THING without mentioning the inspirational, ahead of its time special effects designed by ROB BOTTIN (STAN WINSTON deserves a nod as well for his work in the mentioned dog kennel scene). The film's lackluster box office performance in 1982 is often blamed on the feel good vapors surrounding the just released E.T. While there's certainly some truth to that, I've begun to believe that audiences where simply too overwhelmed by BOTTIN's extraordinary work to really get what THE THING was about. I know when I saw the film as a kid that there was so much screaming and horrified laughter that it drowned out much of the dialogue. After the famous "spider head" walk, I think many brains were just too blown away to focus on the finer nuances on display. This goes for critics as well who wrongly accused the movie of being ONLY a showcase for effects. Now that years have passed and the slime has settled, BOTTIN's work is still awe inspiring but, thanks to the advent of home viewing, one can rewatch the film again and again unearthing different layers and forms without the distraction of picking your jaw off the floor. At its heart, THE THING is about more than simple Xenophobia. It's about that nameless space that exists between all people in all types of relationships. The fear that we can never know another's real intentions. The knowledge that we can never know anyone absolutely. It's interesting to note that original author JOHN W. CAMPBELL's mother had an identical twin sister who actively disliked John and that he had trouble telling the two apart. This factoid not only goes far in explaining the story's fascination with false identity but even what some claim is a thread of misogyny throughout, citing the fact that the all male group is harmonious until a reproductive presence is introduced. CARPENTER does a fine job orchestrating the group dynamics within the camp and showing how leadership roles adjust during crisis. Before the unknown arrives, there is a general sense of camaraderie but much like the more recent THE MIST (which sports THE THING's theatrical poster in an early scene as a sort of mission statement or to-do list) once doubt goes in the "in box" and trust goes in the "out" box everyone starts looking a bit shady. THE THING may not leave you demanding a blood sample from your significant other (something else folks were not too keen to think about in an AIDS hysteric 1982) but it is bound to remind you just how very cold it can get when trust is "hard to come by".  Disregarding undercurrents, THE THING simply works as a movie about people in a dire situation. I've already mentioned its membership in the sci-fi and horror genres but it also grafts action and western elements into the frosty mix as well. This is where CARPENTER really excels as a director. Although the final act may not reach the zenith level of excitement found within the film's middle (scrapped stop motion effects take out much of the final showdown), the viewer is left with a truly singular experience that has yet to be equaled. Truth be told the tale is not without it's fair share of loose ends and ambiguities (J.C. admits much was created on the fly) but its strengths are so dynamic that these undefined elements become part of its appeal. At the end of the day CARPENTER and company can only be admired for producing that rare remake that artfully picks only the strongest components of its previous sources, while adding new innovative shadings uniquely it's own.       In lieu of transcribing the entire movie, let's just say there is a plethora of indelible scenes and a rich bounty of quotable dialogue to be found here. Something that needs to be singled out though is the film's "Sorry, you're not getting off the hook THAT easy!" ending. Asking people to think too much or fill in the blanks was not really a popular or polite thing for a movie to do in the early eighties (just ask equally shrugged off, now regarded masterpieces BLADE RUNNER and VIDEODROME!) and THE THING demands you do just that. What was once considered a frustrating non-payoff is now the film's undeniable masterstroke of a calling card. It leaves you thinking and thinking is a good thing (you might say it's what separates humans from things).