The Slumber Party Massacre (1982)

As an avid, lifelong slasher film fan it almost embarrasses me to say I’ve never fully watched “The Slumber Party Massacre” (1982). I can vaguely recall seeing bits & pieces of it (or one of its sequels) on USA’s Up All Night with Rhonda Shear sometime in the early ‘90s. Those viewings, however, were more than likely focused on spying whatever softcore T&A managed to evade network censors. There wasn’t a wealth of nudie content for a 12-year-old kid to peruse back in the pre-internet days. Once I got older and developed a cinematic taste, I (foolishly) looked at the film as what would likely be a low-budget throwaway slasher more interested in showing off boobs than anything else. Not that there’s anything wrong with that… Point being, the series was written off in my mind. And what a mistake that was because director Amy Jones’ debut is a riotous slice of trash cinema every horror fan should watch. It’s purposely full of every cliché in the book, playing more like a parody of early’80s slasher films than anything. And that’s because the script started as a parody. Only the filmmakers decided to shoot it straight without playing up the humorous elements, giving this film the unique distinction of playing up every aspect of slasher film fans wanted to see while at the same time riffing on it with deadpan direction.

As we learn via a newspaper headline seen during the opening, mass murderer Russ Thorn has escaped from a mental institution and is on the loose. Trish (Michelle Michaels), a high school senior on the basketball team, decides to throw a slumber party since her parents are going away for the weekend. All of the girls agree to come, except for Valerie (Robin Stille), the new girl, because Diane (Gina Hunter) is a stuck-up bitch. Trish’s parents left their neighbor, Mr. Contant (Rigg Kennedy), in charge of looking over the girls. Surely, with his watchful eye nothing bad will happen. But Russ Thorn has plans. Big, drill-killing plans; and it isn’t very long at all before girls are impaled by his two-foot power drill.

It’s hard to watch “The Slumber Party Massacre” and not immediately consider the obvious phallic implications here. Crazy Russ Thorn, who looks like he couldn’t get a date if he paid for it, runs wild like a madman sticking his massively oversized drill into any hot young co-ed unlucky enough to be in his vicinity. Freud would have a field day with this one. To be fair, Russ isn’t discriminatory when it comes to who gets the business end of his drill because more than a couple guys are subjected to brutal facial disfigurement. That poor pizza guy…

Rita Mae Brown’s script originally started life as “Don’t Open the Door”, a straight-up parody of all things slasher. What’s interesting about that is slashers were really in their prime at this time, so to have someone scripting a send-up was a bit novel. Most of the popular slasher parody films didn’t start hitting until a few years later. Although, her decision to riff on the teen slasher craze was probably due to the fact she was a feminist who had tired of seeing women in constant distress or undress. Director Amy Jones got her start in the business by coming across Brown’s script, noticing the original prologue had key scenes she could film for a demo. She shot the opening pages with only $1000 and went to Roger Corman, King of the B-Movies, who said she had a career if she could do so much with so little. Jones actually turned down an opportunity to edit Spielberg’s “E.T.” (1982) so she could make her directorial debut here. And in true workhorse fashion, rather than trying to mitigate the amount of T&A usually required in a Corman picture, she went all-out and delivered all the goods. In her commentary, she makes mention of how if this is what Corman wanted, then she was going to deliver it in spades. Bless her.

The film benefits from having a woman both at the pen and at the helm, because the relationship between the girls feels genuine. When Diane starts complaining loudly about how lame Valerie is, the other girls on the team don’t immediately chime in and agree with her. In fact, Trish gets downright upset and blasts her for harping on the new girl. It’s refreshing to see a cast full of women who aren’t constantly catty or slutty, but, rather, acting like normal high school girls who hang out and bicker and just want some innocent fun.

The only odd one of the bunch, who isn’t even part of the basketball team, is Valerie’s younger sister, Courtney (Jennifer Meyers). Her character is… unusual. I’m guessing Meyers was older than the role called for, but rather than just accept that and play it straight she acts like a teenager/20-something pretending to be an adolescent. It’s weird.

Kudos to Michael Villella for making Russ Thorn so damn intense as a killer. Thorn prefers the method acting approach, and he made the wise decision to have zero contact with the girls during filming so there would be a disconnect between them. He only got talkative once their characters had been killed. According to the internet, cordless drills became more widespread in the early ‘80s, though I find it hard to believe Thorn could find one so massive that it could run for hours, churning chunks of flesh and bone, without needing a charge. But, man, who can argue that drill isn’t a seriously heavy piece of human wrecking power. Thorn is silent throughout the entire film, right up to the climax, but even then all he mostly says it how “pretty” the remaining girls are.

Humor is present throughout, whether intentional or not. The fact that the film was shot straight, rather than playing these hijinks up, is exactly what lends such a bizarre tonality to the picture. The obvious gags are what bring the levity, though. Like that fridge gag, which took just the right amount of time to deliver the payoff. But my favorite line from the film comes when the girls are crouched over the dead pizza guy’s body and one girl touches him, saying “He’s so cold!” causing another to question, “Is the pizza?”

“The Slumber Party Massacre” is fabulous trash cinema at its best. Nearly every scene is so outrageously over the top one can’t help but feel like they’re part of a joke that may or may not be intentional. Major kudos to Scream Factory for preserving raucous gems like this that are usually best viewed with a large, drunken audience but play just as well at home if you’re into this type of tripe.   

X-Ray (1982)/Schizoid (1980) Blu-ray review

Of all the sub-genres that exist within horror, slashers have traditionally been a fan favorite. Though the subgenre (arguably) kicked off with 1974’s Black Christmas, it didn’t gain traction in cinemas until films like Halloween (1978) and Friday the 13th (1980) became major hits. And so began a “golden age” of sorts for the slasher film, which lasted right up until the mid-‘80s. For all the icons these films have produced, however, there have been countless others that have fallen by the wayside over the years. Shout! Factory has paired up two of them (likely since neither title would sell enough on its own to justify a release) – 1982’s X-Ray, and 1980’s Schizoid – in a fun, delightfully gory little package that should at least have minor appeal to fans of gloriously cheesy ‘80s stalk-and-slash fare.

Barbi Benton was quite the busy, busty Playmate in the ‘70s. Primarily known for her television work, X-Ray was one of only a handful of films she starred in during her career. Here she plays Susan Jeremy, a woman who visits her local hospital for a routine checkup required for a new job. But someone in the hospital has other plans for Susan! A someone who, 19 years earlier, she had scorned when he professed his unrequited love for her. He also killed a fellow child at the time, but apparently the police were really bad at their jobs back then, so he was never caught. Anyway, Susan’s results are faked to show she has a serious illness, leading another physician to strongly recommend she stay the night for further tests. As expected, the killer stalks the hallways of the most abandoned hospital seen on film since Halloween II (1981), brutally killing nurses, patients, and doctors alike with some nasty surgical implements.

Firstly, I have another titling issue with another Shout! release. X-Ray is technically the title of the heavily-cut version of the film, which runs around 77 minutes. This fully uncut version should really be titled Hospital Massacre, which is how it’s recognized on IMDB and Wikipedia. Or if Shout! wanted to get all kinds of crazy, they could’ve gone with the original pre-release title of Be My Valentine, or Else…, which is superior to the first title it had, Ward 13. Whew! So, just in case anyone who actually remembers all of that was concerned, this is indeed the full uncut version, just released under the cut name. Capiche?

Although it would be easy to objectively call the film a bit of a slog to get through, the fact is that it embodies much of what slasher fans love. The threadbare plot exists only to further the murderous rampage of Harold, whose identity is concealed well enough that his reveal is a minor surprise. Every doctor employed here acts like a creep, and every nurse treats Susan like a mental patient who missed her morning dose of pills. Among the small cast of characters is a hospital drunk – a clear red herring – who stumbles around with bottle in hand, while nurses shrug off his antics and remind him to return to his room. Everyone is so indifferent to her claims that I half expected them to reveal everyone was in on the plot to kill her.

The kills here are fairly nasty, with Harold making use of the many hospital tools at his disposal. And his victims make it really easy, too. Seriously, it seems like no one makes any kind of effort to, I don’t know, just turn and run. Most just stand there, apparently so consumed with fear that they’re unable to move. One guy is attacked with a corded surgical saw; a death that could have been avoided if he simply walked another foot or two away so the cord wouldn’t reach. But, again, this is the kind of nonsensical, nasty murdering fans should be expecting here. The film doesn’t skimp on the red stuff, ensuring that everyone’s demise is met with a crimson wave. Hell, Harold even manages to one-up My Bloody Valentine’s Harry Warden with his own take on a wrapped box of chocolates.

What would a slasher be without some gratuitous T&A? Fear not. Benton was a former Playmate, after all. And one of her strange, lecherous doctors is more than willing to insist she strip down for an uncomfortably scintillating exam. Director Boaz Davidson mentions there was a full crew on set that day, and when Benton’s ample assets are pored over it’s easy to see why. X-Ray might not be a great film, or even good by some standards, but as a de facto slasher it’s got enough going for it to satisfy fans yearning for lesser-known ‘80s sleaze.

Schizoid, on the other hand, moves at a positively glacial pace. This 1980 turkey is paired up with a slasher, but in reality this film plays more like a giallo. Killer wears black gloves (nice nod to Argento)? Check. Red herrings a-plenty? Check. Overly-complicated plot? Sadly, no. This one is mostly mundane. Klaus Kinski – don’t get too excited, he isn’t playing crazy here – is Dr. Fales, a therapist who oversees a group of patients. One by one, the members of the group are being killed. Julie (Marianna Hill), a member of the group, has been receiving threatening letters at her office, where she works as an advice columnist for the local paper. What follows is a slow game of stalk-and-kill, and Julie has to figure out who’s behind it all before she’s next! It could be almost any member of the male cast. Maybe it is Dr. Fales, who despite being a trollish slug of a man beds every nubile female in his group. Or, perhaps Gilbert (a young, mustachioed Christopher Lloyd), the maintenance man who constantly stares at everyone in silent, creepy ways. No? How about Doug (Craig Wassom), Julie’s ex-husband who is clearly still infatuated with her? Oh, wait, I know, it’s got to be Dr. Fales daughter, Alison (Donna Wilkes). You know the one who remains mute for almost half of the movie before spending the second half pitching major fits at the dinner table and brandishing firearms. Maybe in some strange twist Julie is actually sending herself the lette- nah, that’s probably not it.

Despite the undeniable ennui that set in once this film got going, I can’t really say I totally disliked it. This is the kind of shit I grew up with, and despite having never seen this film before I could still appreciate it for what it tries to do. It’s almost laughable how many people are suspects in the cast. Literally half of the main players could be the killer, which is de rigueur for any giallo. And we’ve got quite a cast, too. Kinski is always great fun to watch, but here he’s just a weird old sexual deviant with a therapy practice; he’s not chewing scenery and crapping thunder like the days of old. Donna Wilkes seriously speaks two words in the first 45 minutes, then in the last half of the film she goes right off the rails. She’s also wears some bizarre, noir-ish outfit for the climax. Craig Wassom should be familiar to horror fans as Dr. Neil Gordon from A Nightmare on Elm St. 3: The Dream Warriors (1987). The film also features a young Christopher Lloyd, who looks very different with dark hair and a mustache. This was one of his earliest film credits, though he was already an established name thanks to his work on Taxi (1978-1983). Finally, the great Richard Herd is teamed up with Joe Regalbuto as a couple of cops who are actively investigating the case. This film could have easily fallen completely apart with a lesser cast, but everyone here turns in a good enough performance that the material is elevated.

The ending blows, though. It’s totally weak. I won’t spoil anything except to say that people seem to die in this movie very quickly from what would normally be minor and/or non-life threatening wounds. This is usually the norm for films of this ilk (we’re still years away from torture porn), but it totally kills any impact the finale might have had.

X-Ray sports a widescreen image that generally looks free of debris and damage, though grain is a bit on the thick side - on occasion it borders on noise, but aesthetics such as this tend to lend themselves well to old-school horror. Some scenes have a hazy appearance, almost like there was a little bit of smoke pumped on to the set. Black levels are anemic for the most part, usually never looking consistent or even totally dark. Colors are mostly good, however, and Barbi Benton’s lips look shinier than a freshly waxed car. The DTS-HD MA stereo track gets the job done with a soundtrack that sounds like a cross between Harry Manfredini’s cues for Friday the 13th (1980) and Goldsmith’s work on The Omen (1976). Dialogue sounds clear and is free of any hisses, pops, or crackling.

Schizoid looks a bit better, with far less grain (though it is still very much present) and a nice color palette. Fine details are slightly more apparent than they were on X-Ray, although I wouldn’t call this a sharp image by any means. Closeups do exhibit an appreciable amount of detail, though. Black levels are more rich and consistent here, too. Audio-wise this is no better than the first half of this double bill, but I will say that I dug the synth-heavy, funky electronic score here more than X-Ray’s derivative tones. Neither disc includes subtitles.

There’s one lone bonus feature on and that’s a 12 minute interview with director Boaz Davidson. The Israeli director (who also helmed The Last American Virgin, also released in ’82) talks about how this was not his typical kind of film, but he couldn’t turn down his hometown producers of Golan & Globus when they asked. He also speaks very highly of Benton’s work, especially her lengthy nude scene. Schizoid doesn’t get much more, as it contains an interview as well – this a 10 minute conversation with actress Donna Wilkes – and the film’s theatrical trailer. The interview is candid, with Wilkes discussing the most pertinent of topics: how big of a perv was Kinski on set. Answer: she got along with him fine, but he was not especially liked the virtually every other female on the crew. This set also includes a DVD copy containing both films and their respective bonus features.

Separately, they’re mediocre. But together, Shout! has provided a package worthy of any horror fan’s collection. Just the pedigree of both films having been released under the Cannon Films label and featuring production by the legendary Israel duo of Golan/Globus should be enough to convince people this is worth a spot on their shelf.

Q: The Winged Serpent (1982) Blu-ray review

 Although his name might not be as well-known as Roger Corman - the king of low-budget genre productions - auteur Larry Cohen deserves every bit as much respect for his endless gumption and total devotion to making the most out of his features. His ability to work on-the-fly and under the gun is exactly the reason why his film Q: The Winged Serpent (1982) exists today. Cohen, who had just been fired from a low-budget production shooting in New York City, didn’t want to waste the room he’d paid for during the production, so instead he hired some actors and banged out the script that would become Q in a mere six days. The conceit for this tale of a modern-day Aztec beast-god nesting in the art-deco spire of the Chrysler Building came when Cohen looked up at the skyline and said to himself, “That’d be the coolest place to have a nest.” Inspiration can come from anywhere when you’re in the Big City.

New Yorkers are losing their heads, literally. Reports of a gargantuan winged creature terrorizing rooftops have the NYPD on high alert, but they just can’t seem to spot the damn thing. Meanwhile, across town, small time crook (and wannabe jazz pianist) Jimmy Quinn (played by Cohen crony Michael Moriarty) is an unwilling participant in a diamond heist (at a store called… wait for it… Neil Diamonds). It goes poorly, leaving Jimmy to run for his freedom all the way up to the top of the Chrysler Building where he finds a huge nest housing the largest cinematic egg since Mothra gave birth. Quinn decides that maybe now would be a good time to give up his life of crime and try going straight for once, but when a couple of his associates come looking for the diamonds he lies and claims they’re hidden at the top of the Chrysler Building. Sure enough, both men leave the rooftop minus a head. Thinking this is his big ticket, Jimmy figures he can use his knowledge of the nest’s location as a bargaining chip with the police, exchanging what he knows for a full pardon on all his crimes in addition to a cool $1 million cash. The way he sees it, this city owes him. Who cares if there’s an ancient behemoth eating residents, all while a mysterious man in a bejeweled mask is making willing human sacrifices to appease the beast?

Cohen started off writing detective dramas, a fact which is evident in many of his films since they almost always feature a subplot involving police procedures. While the film is ostensibly sold as a monster-run-amok tale, the fact is that virtually every big creature feature needs a compelling story to work within. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that Michael Moriarty isn’t exactly the most charismatic leading man, but it’s clear that he has a strong desire to imbue his parts with enough of his quirky charm and dogged resilience that they’re at least memorable. Jimmy Quinn is a lifetime loser; a petty crook with no luck who overlooks the one stable, good thing in his life: his girlfriend, Joan, played (rather terribly) by Candy Clark. He’s so accustomed to being broken down and spat out that once he gets a small amount of power it completely goes to his head. Moriarty’s performance ends up being the film’s highlight, mainly because our eponymous creature is a little less than spectacular when finally revealed.

Q had a stellar poster design. I can still vividly recall seeing the VHS cover art many times as a kid and thinking that it looked impossibly awesome. Emphasize impossible because this is another case of the poster setting such high expectations that they would be hopeless to match on screen. It also doesn’t help when you hire one of the foremost fantasy artists of all-time, the masterful Boris Vallejo, the design your one sheet. Quetzalcoatl looks a lot like a plucked turkey, soaring through the skyline of the Big Apple. The design isn’t necessarily terrible, but compared to the beast the cover implies you’re getting… it just doesn’t even come close. Thankfully, since this <i>is</i> 1982, viewers can enjoy seeing Q brought to life via stop-motion animation. The work done here is impressive for a low-budget production, and Q moves through the air almost seamlessly. Large feathered claws were crafted for scenes where lounging New Yorkers are pulled from rooftops before being torn apart, although their employment usually ends up looking like someone is playing with a giant arcade claw machine attempting to win a prize.

Richard Roundtree and David Carradine both receive top billing as a couple of cops working the Q case. Carradine is given the most to do out of the pair, however, leaving Roundtree to just bark a few orders and act mildly heroic when he finally meets the beast. Carradine’s focus is mainly on investigating the series of human sacrifices occurring around the city – hearts cleanly ripped from chests, skin flayed off bodies… that kind of stuff. It’s a bit underdeveloped as a subplot, but the only real purpose it needs to serve is explaining why an Aztec god is making home in a modern day metropolis.

While many might dismiss the film as a big turkey, I think there’s more than enough of interest occurring within the running time to at the very least entertain viewers. Cohen came up with a unique take on ancient Aztec rituals, and he made sure to populate the film with a few well-rounded characters and familiar faces. Hell, it’s worth watching just for all the glorious NYC skyline porn, since the film was shot entirely on location. Cohen even managed to secure permits to shoot at the top of the Chrysler Building. Fans of old-school monster movies are sure to be pleased.

Shout! Factory’s Blu-ray is an appreciable upgrade over the previously issued DVD from Blue Underground. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn they simply used the existing HD master that was available since BU is known for quality image restoration. The image enjoys an upgrade in clarity, as well as a boost in color reproduction, while also maintaining a healthy, moderate layer of grain. Night time shots lose much of their detail to darkness, but Cohen (surprisingly) chose to shoot almost entirely in daylight. On the audio side of things, a DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 stereo track kicks things off. Now, before anyone goes complaining that this is a downgrade from the DTS 6.1 surround sound track found on the DVD, be aware that this film was mixed in mono, so anything those extra channels might have added would likely be newly-created to fill out the soundfield. The stereo track perfectly suits the film, although the dialogue levels are a bit on the low side.

The major bonus feature here is an audio commentary with writer/producer/director Larry Cohen. Whether or not you’re a fan of his films, this is a must-listen track. Cohen talks virtually non-stop right from the get-go, regaling listeners with on-set anecdotes, information on how he achieved some of the film’s more impressive shots, casting, securing permits, and more. He covers all aspects of the production in a clear, direct tone. The disc also includes a theatrical trailer, as well as a teaser, both of which (while looking rather rough) are in HD.

  

Q might not live up to the promise of its poster art, but what films truly do? Cohen delivered a picture that is a hodgepodge of monster activity, crime, extortion, and greed. And he did it all with a single week of pre-production. He makes the most of his time, his actors, and his films. Michael Moriarty struggles a bit, but manages to essentially carry the film on his shoulders. Fans of Cohen’s oeuvre already know what’s in store here, but the uninitiated should (hopefully) find something here to keep them entertained. Shout! Factory’s Blu-ray provides the best presentation Q is likely to receive, and while the bonus features may be minimal the commentary alone makes up for any shortcomings.