Recently Viewed:: Vol 2

1987’s THE CALLER is far beyond being a horse of a different color, this funky filly is a kaleidoscope of hues I’ve never even laid eyes on before. My biggest question may be why isn’t it much more notorious? Madolyn Smith portrays a nameless young woman who occupies an isolated cabin in the woods who is waiting for the imminent arrival of a lover. Instead, a questionable stranger in the form of Malcolm McDowell arrives on her doorstep claiming his car has broken down and that he requires the use of her phone. The two lone characters (literally the only two people in the entire film) butt heads, juggle red herrings and suspiciously dissect each other’s every word to the point where the viewer has little reason to trust either of them are who they present themselves to be. It’s basically a two character play with one fixed setting yet it is remarkably intriguing right up to the closing credits thanks to sly direction (by Arthur Allan Seidelman (astonishingly the same guy responsible for the horrendous HERCULES IN NEW YORK), an unpredictable script (by Michael Sloan, creator of THE EQUALIZER and husband to Melissa Sue Anderson), a potent score by the great Richard Band (RE-ANIMATOR) and the limitless talent of Mr. McDowell (who has rarely been better than he is here). My advise is to put a pillow on the floor in anticipation of a (literal) jaw-dropping conclusion that is so bizarre that it required the help of special effects legend John Carl Buechler to tackle it. Seriously, if anyone tells you they figured out the central mystery of this oddball oddity before it was revealed they are either lying to your face or are completely insane and should have their brain studied by science.

I may be a little too comfortable when it comes to dishing out hyperbole but I rarely use the word masterpiece if I can help it. I gotta say though, I do think WHITE OF THE EYE ( again, 1987) is a masterpiece and a genuinely fascinating work of dark art. Directed by Donald Cammell (who sadly took his own life in ’96), this is an unblinking psychological thriller like no other that boasts a truly remarkable central performance by David Keith (FIRESTARTER) with a surprisingly subtle assist from Cathy Moriarty (RAGING BULL and more importantly, CASPER). I’m talking sterling serial killer epic here folks and it’s a crying shame this fine film isn’t more widely heralded. Keith plays Paul White a sound system installer who has the curious habit of frequently being in the vicinity when a serial killer who preys upon wealthy women strikes. Moriarity portrays his wife Joan who begins to suspect her hubby may be on the down low when it comes to the act of brutally murdering women and rightfully worries for the safety of their innocent young daughter. Set in a blazing, almost unearthly Arizona and tapping universal fears of the inability to ever fully know anyone, including a loved one, Cammell’s film (which is based on the book “Mrs White” by Margaret Tracy (a pseudonym for siblings Laurance and Andrew Klaven (A SHOCK TO THE SYSTEM, DON’T SAY A WORD) is a steep, fearless nosedive into unfathomable mental depravity with richly disturbing images, a hypnotic score by Rick Fenn (10cc) and Nick Mason (Pink Floyd) and a brutal, piercing tone that’s likely to haunt you long after viewing.

Sometimes ya just gotta treat yourself to a John Carpenter film. They’re always there when you need them and PRINCE OF DARKNESS (hey, 1987 again!) is right up there with his very best. In fact, it somewhat captures various elements of some of his previous movies and swirls them together in an almost compilation mix. It’s got the building under seige dilemma of ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13, the unknowable supernatural forces of THE FOG and the creeping paranoia of THE THING, Plus his HALLOWEEN cohort Donald Pleasence is there to help anchor it all together. PRINCE involves a group of quantum physic students who volunteer to assist their professor (BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA’s Victor Wong) in a creepy rundown church. The group, led by Jameson Parker (whose mustache makes me believe he’s a stand in for Carpenter himself) and Lisa Blount (with red hair that thankfully distances her from her role in DEAD AND BURIED which I’m forever traumatized by) discover that the church’s basement houses what appears to be a sentiment mass of green goo in a giant jar whose dad is likely Satan himself and is generally focused on contaminating any and everyone with bad skin and muck spewing demonic possession while bringing on the apocalypse. Lots of bugs, worms and Alice Cooper are also involved. What really works in this movie is the gritty, limited urban setting that feels so far away from the safety of Hollywood slickness and Carpenter’s innovative use of choppy video visuals that seemed transmitted from another movie, if not another world entirely. This is one of those rare films that truly does have the power to slip into your nightmares and infest your psyche and its gale force pessimism feels even more potent and relevant today.

My first attempt to watch the made -or-TV cats run amuck flick STRAYS (’91) starring Timothy Busfield (TRUCKS), Kathleen Quinlan (THE TWILIGHT ZONE MOVIE) and Claudia Christian (THE HIDDEN, MANIAC COP 2) was an absolute cat-astrophe. That's because all the wailing of the ornery felines within the film so agitated and alarmed my own kitties that they began to fight each other. Thus, I had to finish the film donning earphones so as not to inspire a riot. Now, usually I stay away from cat attack movies because I hate to see people off camera throwing the poor confused felines about in order to simulate their attacks (yep, I’m side-eying INFERNO as well as 1971’s BLOODFEAST aka NIGHT OF A THOUSAND CATS amongst others) but as this movie came out in the early nineties I was somewhat confident that it was made in a more enlightened era after basic animal protection laws were finally established (plus the movie was written by Hardy Boy Sean Cassidy and if you can’t trust a Hardy then who the hell can you trust?). Anywho, this jaunt is refreshingly simple (family moves into a new home and are attacked by hordes of pissed off cats), has a nice case of the zoomies (yay, only 83 minutes!) and is routinely hilarious and even somewhat cathartic (how can anyone not root for the cats to kill them all? Well, everyone except Quinlan who I have a decades long soft spot for). STRAYS may never win a best in show award but it's fun enough escapism that knows just where to scratch.

ALLIGATOR II: THE MUTATION (’91) has somehow alluded me for decades. For reasons known only to the big kahuna in the sky, it never graced the shelves of any video store I frequented or worked at (which is many). Sadly, as it turns out, I wasn’t missing much and even though this loose sequel has an impressive cast including the likes of Joseph Bologna, the perpetually lovable Dee Wallace and our super creepy old pal Richard (BAD DREAMS) Lynch, it has none of the wit, charm or cleverness of its impressive John Sayles-penned predecessor. You’d think all you’d need is a giant gator and a dark sewer and you’d be more than half way to awesome-ville but frustratingly this John (WATCHERS) Hess directed toothless dud crawls lethargically in endless circles and never gets its land legs.

RUSH WEEK (1989) is a mostly standard slasher film that made little impact when it was released at the tail end of the eighties horror boom. It’s not the most original film in the world and I’m afraid there’s a regrettable lack of bloodshed but If you are comforted by campus set slasher flicks (like URBAN LEGEND, FINAL EXAM and HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME for example) and their predictable tropes, you could do much worse. If nothing else, RUSH WEEK stirs up a pretty impressive spooky atmosphere and boasts a compelling lead in Pamela Ludwig (1979's ever awesome OVER THE EDGE). Ludwig plays perky Toni Daniels, a Nancy Drew-esque ace reporter for the college paper who attempts to figure out why so many students are inexplicably disappearing and why there is a robed figure with a giant hatchet lurking around the halls of school. You’ll surely figure out who the killer is long before poor Toni but it’s kind of fun to watch her go through the motions of looking for clues and getting herself into sticky, by the numbers situations anyway. It may do so barely, but RUSH WEEK passes the grade thanks mostly to its spirited cast (which includes a random quirky cameo from Gregg Allman of all people) and its hard to resist (for me), classic slasher stalking scenes.

I wasn’t too impressed with AMERICAN PSYCHO when I saw it in the theater way back in 2000. Maybe it was the early scene depicting the killing of a homeless man’s dog or maybe I just didn’t care to be reminded of how callous people were capable of being in the pursuit of success. Let’s face it, it was probably the ATM machine (I still want to call them MAC machines) demanding to be fed a kitten that rubbed me the wrong way and insured I’d never watch it again. But watch it again I did recently and I have to admit that it’s pretty entertaining now that the time period it is critiquing is much further away and that I finally understand that its full blown satire. In other words, when I was younger I just looked at the screen and saw the type of smug, affluent people I felt aversion toward but now I can see clearly that the writer (Guinevere Turner with the impossible task of cutting through the endless chaff in Brett Easton Ellis’ somehow popular book) and director (Mary Harron, I SHOT ANDY WARHOL) probably weren’t looking at them with admiration either. It’s actually a very funny movie (sans animal abuse) and ironically Christian Bale gives one of his most charismatic performances as a blank-eyed soulless monster who kills for sport and has cheekbones that could cut glass. The sad thing is that there are some who probably do see serial killer Patrick Bateman’s empathy deficit disorder as a strength and the clearest path to get ahead. Personally, I don’t like the guy but I wouldn’t mind bending his ear in regards to eighties pop music. We might not have much in common but we could always bond on the many musical gems Huey Lewis and the News have graciously shared with a sometimes unworthy world.

PAPERHOUSE (’88) is a haunting, visually poetic film directed by Bernard Rose who also helmed the classic stunner CANDYMAN (’92). It concerns a young eleven year old girl named Anna (Charlotte Burke) who doesn’t quite fit in at school, constantly bickers with her mom (the late great Glenne Headly) and feels abandoned by her father whose job keeps him far from home. In her alienation she takes to living inside a fantasy world that she is able to draw herself on paper and visit in dreams. There she meets a young boy with rapidly declining heath and a shadowy threatening distortion of her absentee father who stalks her and her new friend with a hammer. This movie would make a great double feature with the kindertrauma classic THE NEVERENDING STORY due to its focus on a child’s ability to use their imagination to cope with pestering issues. It also reminds me a bit of Frank LaLoggia’s brilliant LADY IN WHITE (of the same year) in the respectful way it treats the complexities of being young. With powerfully stark, dream-like images and the aid of a beautiful score (by Stanley Myers and Hans Zimmer) Rose creates a dark fantasy that ultimately takes on the difficulties of accepting loss, death and life's random cruelties in a moving, memorable way.