Leviathan (1989) Blu-ray review

It’s nothing new to have studios release competing pictures with similar storylines in theaters within a given year; in filmmaking parlance they are known as “twin films”. It is, however, a bit unprecedented to have five movies with the same theme released within a calendar year. That was the case in 1989, when theaters and home video shelves were deluged by titles such as DeepStar Six, The Evil Below, Lords of the Deep, The Abyss and Leviathan – all films dealing with underwater crews discovering sea creatures that, with the exception of The Abyss, are far from benevolent. Of course, none of them was much of a commercial or critical success outside of The Abyss (and even that wasn’t a huge success), but both DeepStar Six and Leviathan have enjoyed moderate cult classic status on home video in the years since, with the latter generally seen as the better of the two. Director George P. Cosmatos’ film is a treasure trove of talent, both in front of and behind the camera – featuring actors Peter Weller, Ernie Hudson, Daniel Stern, Hector Elizondo, Richard Crenna, and Meg Foster; special FX make-up by Stan Winston, with assistance from Tom Woodruff, Jr. and Alec Gillis; score composed by the legendary Jerry Goldsmith… that is one helluva impressive roster. If the talent isn’t enough to lure in viewers, a basic description of the plot should be – it’s Alien (1979) meets The Thing (1982) underwater.

An eclectic crew of undersea miners has only three days left before their six-month mining operation for Tri-Oceanic Corp. is complete. During a routine maintenance run, Sixpack (Daniel Stern), falls off a sea ridge and stumbles upon a downed Russian ship, from which he pilfers a safe. When Sixpack returns to the crew’s underwater habitat, Dr. Glen “Doc” Thompson (Richard Crenna) translates the ship’s name – Leviathan – as well as a video log left by the captain, wherein he talks about a strange illness afflicting his crew. As everyone pores over the contents of the safe, Sixpack quietly slips a flask of vodka found inside into his pocket. Later that night, he shares a drink of vodka with Bowman (Lisa Eilbacher) in their quarters. The next day Sixpack is feeling under the weather, so he goes to see Doc, who discovers a rash on his skin. Not long after the exam, Sixpack lies dead on his hospital bed. Well, dead-ish. Whatever was in that vodka has started to … change his body. Bowman begins feeling the effects, too, and she eventually (unwittingly) winds up in the room with Sixpack’s body, where the two begin to grotesquely merge.

Doc and Beck (Peter Weller) want to avoid alarming the crew, so they wrap “both” bodies up in a bag and get the rest of the group to help flush it out of the station. Well, that plan doesn’t work so well when the bag starts moving and DeJesus (Michael Carmine) opens it up thinking someone is alive, at which point the newly-formed creature takes a swipe at Cobb (Hector Elizondo) and claws his chest pretty good. Everyone is able to force the creature into the “swamp”, a platform used to lower the workers to the ocean floor, but not before a piece of it wriggles out and remains on board. It soon begins to mutate into a lamprey-like creature, attacking crew members and assimilating their bodies, turning into a hulking, menacing beast. The few crew members who are left alive have to figure out a way to either kill it or escape, but with Tri-Oceanic’s CEO Martin (Meg Foster) unable to extract them things are looking dire.

Leviathan works, but the obvious influence of both Alien and The Thing are impossible to ignore; the film is wholly derivative of both, right down to Beck’s final line to the creature echoing both Kurt Russell from Carpenter’s film and Roy Scheider in Jaws (1975). The station’s design is awfully reminiscent of the Nostromo, the crew here is just as varied and distinct as those found in Scott’s film, and the idea of an ever-evolving, regenerative creature screams of Bottin’s work. But there are certainly worse projects to be cribbing from. About the only elements of this film that feel unique are the underwater setting and the concept behind how the creature came to be, neither of which are all that novel. Still, the film succeeds because of the sheer amount of talent involved; and because David Peoples and Jeb Stuart’s script maintains a good pace with commendable intrigue and action to prevent ennui from setting in. Other than some clumsy exposition, where characters make incredibly educated guesses as to the creature’s origins that magically fit together, there isn’t too much to roll your eyes at. These are smart, professional people who make mostly smart, professional decisions when faced with a lumbering beast consuming co-workers.

The film world lost a GIANT when Stan Winston passed in 2008. Creature design hasn’t been the same since. Now, we’re stuck with guys like Neville Page who, while very talented, tends to create creatures that have little variance from film to film. Everything looks like it comes from the same taxonomy. To list all of Winston’s achievements would be (and should be) needless to genre fans; his work is inimitable and easy to spot. The creature design for Leviathan, however, could probably be considered one of his lesser efforts. Both Tom Woodruff, Jr. and Alec Gillis discuss the difficulties of putting the final form together in the supplements on this disc; there were many. Many of the film’s “smaller” effects actually look quite good and convincing, and by peppering them in at short intervals throughout the film it excuses the fact that the main beast is only glimpsed in shadow until the very end of the picture. Once it’s seen, the result looks a bit like, as Ernie Hudson puts it in his interview, “a big chicken monster”. If you look at production shots, it actually doesn’t look all that bad, but the way it’s shot on film doesn’t do the design much justice. Admittedly, though, it does look cobbled together and not entirely congruent, which may or may not have been intentional.

Leviathan is a fun late ‘80s thriller, brimming with talent and bolstered by a strong score, courtesy of maestro Jerry Goldsmith, who weaves some atypical sounds into his representative work. So what if the film is derivative of other, greater works? Plenty of films can be seen as riffing on old ideas; it’s what Hollywood does. At least this film had the decency to pull from two of the most lauded genre pictures of all-time.

Scream Factory has been getting some flack online about their video transfers lately, some of which may be justifiable. Picture quality should always be of paramount importance, not that I’m implying they don’t care about image quality. Sometimes you just can’t do more with what you’re given, especially on a budget. Anyway, throw all that talk out the window because Leviathan is one of their best-looking efforts this year. The 2.35:1 1080p image is stellar, obviously sourced from a recently-mastered version of the film. MGM tends to do well on their horror titles when HD masters are made. The print used here is in great shape, very clean, with nary a hint of dirt of white flecks. Definition in the station interiors is superb, with fine details appearing especially strong. You can count the individual beads of sweat perspiring on DeJesus’ face, or count the crags on Richard Crenna’s. Cinematographer Alex Thomson makes some smart lighting decisions here, allowing for strong clarity and a good sense of depth in these close quarters. Colors are accurate and black levels hold strong. There’s a slight softness to the edges of the picture, which is simply a byproduct of shooting with anamorphic lenses. The only weakness in the picture comes during the “underwater” scenes, which weren’t actually underwater but shot on a soundstage at Cinecitta Studios in Italy. The set was bathed in oceanic hues, cameras were overcranked to give the sense of slow movement in water, and particles were fanned into the air to give the illusion of sediment on the sea floor. I don’t think it would surprise anyone to know this wasn’t shot underwater. The image often looks murky and soft during these shots, which only occur sporadically during the film. These are sources issues, though, and aren’t because of a bad transfer. Not a big deal and the majority of the film looks so good most won’t even care.

The disc offers the choice of an English DTS-HD MA surround sound track with either a remixed 5.1 or original 2.0 stereo option. The stereo track is a little tighter and more focused, but the expanded 5.1 track has better range and sounds fuller. Your choice will simply come down to preference. Goldsmith’s score isn’t his best work by any stretch, but the man was a master of mood setting and knowing how to manipulate emotions through music. He also loved using atypical sounds and styles, such as the bits of whales singing during the opening credits. Dialogue here is clean, centered and balanced within the mix. Fidelity is strong. The LFE track provides some deep, rumbling bass to convey the fury of the sea. Subtitles are available in English.

Leviathan – Monster Melting Pot features a handful of the film’s cast & crew (minus Weller) interviewed about their time on the set. Mention is made of all the underwater films of 1989, and how this one was done on a very short schedule. Tom Woodruff, Jr. notes that this was, by far, the worst suit he’s ever had to wear on screen, since it forced him to stand in a hunched over position for hours at a time. This is a little long, but there’s good info to be heard. Dissecting Cobb with Hector Elizondo is an interview with the actor, who has a vivid memory and an endless supply of humor, talking candidly about his time on the movie. Surviving Leviathan with Ernie Hudson is an ironically titled interview with Hudson, who is almost always second banana in his movies. He loved shooting the film in Rome, which meant he could bring his family on a great vacation. But he did not like all the swimming. Or the monster’s design. And he really hated the ending. The film’s theatrical trailer, along with a handful of other Scream Factory title trailers, closes out the supplements.

Motel Hell (1980) Blu-ray review

Of all the genres in cinema, the two that elicit perhaps the greatest response from audiences are horror and comedy. Fear and laughter are universal, but they can also be two of the most difficult emotions to properly provoke in large numbers. Unsurprisingly, as far as genre mashups go, few complement each other as well as these two. Many of horror’s most celebrated films are darkly humorous – Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn (1987), Re-Animator (1985), Return of the Living Dead (1985), to name but a few. Some films play it straight, others keep it grim, but the ones that eschew tongue-in-cheek humor usually wind up playing more horrifically. Films that produce those moments of gallows humor so pitch black you aren’t sure whether to be disturbed or delirious with laughter. A perfect example of this would be Tobe Hooper’s seminal landmark of horror, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), where the comedy is so dark, peppered in between scenes of sheer terror, that for some viewers it simply goes right over their heads. When Drayton is zapping Sally with that cattle prod, he exhibits a wry smile, which should break the tension and allow for a bit of levity, yet it’s done with such subtly we aren’t sure whether to admonish his actions or laugh along with him. Hooper never plays the comedic aspects overtly, a trait that made him the perfect candidate for a similar film being set up at Universal some years later.

Of course, he never wound up directing that film, Motel Hell (1980), mainly due to the fact that Universal backed out after finding the script to be too bizarre and dark; and, also, because the subject matter was very similar to what he’d done just a few years earlier with Chain Saw. The project went into turnaround for a couple of years before being offered to English director Kevin Connor, who took on the job with one stipulation: that it be made as a black comedy. The film’s producers agreed, and Connor delivered a darkly humorous film, played straight, replete with equal parts hilarity and horror. Anchored by two stellar performances, especially the late Rory Calhoun as Farmer Vincent, the picture has been a strongly supported cult classic for over three decades.

Nobody smokes meat like Farmer Vincent, and it takes all kinds of critters to make his fritters. Vincent (Rory Calhoun) and his sister, Ida (Nancy Parsons), run the Motel Hello (the “O” flickers out an awful lot), a quaint little property on a farm, surrounded by trees and nature. It’s a countryside gem, supported by the profits generated from Vincent’s meat smoking business. The secret is in the meat, which happens to be human flesh. In order to keep a steady supply of flesh on hand, Vincent has booby trapped the land around his motel, catching passersby and tourists using various devices. But he doesn’t kill them right away; oh no. Vince has to make sure his meat stays fresh, and he does this by knocking his victims out with chloroform, burying them up to the neck in dirt, and slicing their vocal chords so the only sounds they can make are gurgling & guttural. Out on the hunt one night, he shoots out the tires on a motorcycle and takes out a couple. The man he decides to “plant” for use later, but the woman, Terry (Nina Axelrod), sure is purty. He takes her back home and cares for her, nursing her back to health. When she asks him about her companion, Vince says he died quickly and was buried the next morning, even taking her to his (false) gravesite.

Vincent and Ida’s younger brother, Bruce (Paul Linke), the town sheriff, stops by and immediately takes a liking to Terry, too. It would seem Bruce is in on the family business, but in reality he’s just a complete dimwit who is oblivious to his brother’s actions. Not that you can blame him, since Vincent is the most affable, altruistic old man this side of the Mississippi. Terry, despite seeming completely healed, decides to stay on at the motel a while longer, giving Vincent the idea that she’d be perfect to take over the family business. Bruce, however, also finds Terry to be an ideal mate, leading to a quarrel between the brothers. This should be an easy decision for Terry, however, since her one date with Bruce ended with him attempting to pretty much rape her before leaving to answer a distress call. And then Terry tells him she “had a good time” at the end of the night! Talk about mixed signals. Vincent arranges for him and Terry to get married, but Ida gets jealous, leading to a wild night of double crosses, escaped victims uprising against their captors, and the best damn chainsaw duel ever committed to celluloid.

“Meat’s meat and a man’s gotta eat!” Words to live by; words that Vincent lived by. Each of the film’s principal cast members are perfectly fit for their respective roles, but Calhoun is the one who carries this picture. The loveable ol’ cowboy was best known for his role on CBS’ “The Texan”, which ran from 1958-1960. Calhoun had a recognizable face and minor acclaim, but he never quite rose above the ranks of B-level status. In that respect, it seems fitting he would appear in a string of B-movies during the twilight years of his career, which included roles in the infamous killer rabbit opus Night of the Lepus (1972) and everyone’s second-favorite Roddy Piper film, Hell Comes to Frogtown (1987). As Farmer Vincent, he’s sweet as a peach, approaching every situation with an ever-present smile… even, and especially, when he’s about to off someone. It’d be like if you found out your sweet old grandpa was in reality a deranged maniac. Vincent sets his victims at ease before quietly gassing them out and then it’s off to the garden. The onus of success rests squarely on his broad shoulders, and Calhoun delivers. Speaking of delivery, he unquestionably has the greatest line of the film, delivered just before the credits roll, when he makes a startling confession.

Almost forgot, I’d be remiss not to mention the late, great DJ Wolfman Jack’s appearance as a TV evangelist who dresses to the nines in pure white. He, too, has one of the film’s best moments when he confiscates a copy of Hustler from Bruce, offering to “dispose of it properly” for him. Wolfman’s role is very minor, but certainly memorable.

Director Kevin Connor had already helmed a few notable genre releases in his native England before moving over to America for his stateside debut on Motel Hell. His feature film debut was the well-received Amicus horror anthology, From Beyond the Grave (1974), which was followed by minor cult classics like The Land That Time Forgot (1975), its sequel The People That Time Forgot (1977), and At the Earth’s Core (1976). Surprisingly (or maybe not, if he was looking to avoid being pigeonholed), he only made one other horror film after Motel Hell, 1982’s The House Where Evil Dwells, before dropping off the cinematic radar entirely for a long career in television. His decision to shoot the humor of Motel Hell seriously is a large part of why it has held up so well, because this could have easily been a goofy affair were it not for the deadpan delivery and ambiguous humor. Just as with The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, the humor runs as an undercurrent through the picture, always present but never directly pandering to audiences, until, perhaps, the very end. In many ways, Motel Hell is the perfect companion film to Hooper’s masterpiece, with an ending no less memorable. Even those who have never seen the film know the one iconic image it produced – Farmer Vincent, wearing an oversized severed pig’s head, wielding a massive chainsaw.

Motel Hell received a solid Blu-ray release just recently, from Arrow Video over in the UK, and this edition looks to be using the same transfer, which is a good thing. The film’s 1.85:1 1080p picture is heads above the previous R1 DVD release. The print used is in great shape, exhibiting only minor white flecks that appear very sporadically. Given the low-budget roots, this is likely the best it could ever hope to look. A moderate sheen of grain covers the image, maintaining the lo-fi aesthetic nicely. Colors are reproduced well, though perhaps they’re a bit muted at times. Black levels look slightly hazy during some scenes, though in others they’re perfectly acceptable and dark. Daylight shots look best, allowing for maximum detail to show through. Definition gets the biggest boost here, from the sharp lines on Vincent’s red pickup truck to a pair of leather boots or the texture on a burlap sack. There is no evidence of DNR or any other post-processing attempt to clean up the image artificially.

Scream Factory makes the most of the English DTS-HD MA 2.0 stereo track, even if the end result is still a bit thin and flat. While it may lack in presence, the track does offer up good - not great – fidelity, with dialogue presented clean & clear, even if it is a little low in the mix at times. The real treat here is composer Lance Rubin’s score, which is a hodgepodge of sweet ol’ Southern twang, electronic synth cues and frenzied action once the climax has been reached. The source music country tracks are a perfect fit for this deep fried black comedy. What it lacks in range and immersion, it makes up for in style and substance. Subtitles are included in English.

Now, on to the real meat of this package: the supplements. If you’re a current owner of the MGM Midnight Movies double feature DVD, then you will rejoice at the wealth of bonus material here; however, if you went ahead and bought the Arrow BD release then you’re likely wondering if there’s anything new, missing or ported over. And the answer is yes.

This disc brings over all of the bonus materials found on Arrow’s release save for one (maybe two, if you’re picky): a retrospective featurette featuring filmmaker Dave Parker talking about Motel Hell, and a commentary track with director Kevin Connor moderated by Calum Waddell. The latter feature barely counts since this disc also has a commentary with Connor, just with a different moderator. Additionally, there are plenty of interviews, featurettes, trailers, and more included here.

An audio commentary with director Kevin Connor, moderated by Dave Parker, kicks things off. This is a solid track, with Parker asking the right questions to coax a great deal of anecdotal information out of Connor, such as the fact he wanted Harry Dean Stanton for the lead role of Farmer Vincent but he got turned down. Parker is clearly a huge fan of the film, and his infectious enthusiasm for the project imbues the track with a good energy. It Takes All Kinds – The Making of Motel Hell covers all of the requisite behind-the-scenes basics of getting the film made, from the initial start as a very sinister, dark script right up to Connor’s involvement and everything after. Shooting Old School with Thomas del Ruth is an interview with the film’s director of photography, who gets very personal here, starting off with discussing how his wife’s death caused him to just delve deep into his work. From there, the discussion turns to how he shot this film, lighting decisions, etc. Ida, Be Thy Name – The Frightful Females of Fear features a handful of females who work in the horror industry discussing the roles of women in horror, focused specifically on the personality and appearance of Ida. From Glamour to Gore – Rosanne Katon Remembers Motel Hell is an interview with the actress. Here, she reminisces about how her career got started, what it was like working on the film; typical coverage but still good to hear. Another Head on the Chopping Block – An Interview with Paul Linke features Bruce, the clueless brother, who recalls his time on set. It seems the part was written for him specifically, whereas none of the other parts were written for the actors who got the role. It sounds like he had a fun time based on his stories. The film’s trailer is included, along with image galleries of behind-the-scenes and poster & production shots. The cover artwork is reversible, allowing for display of either newly commissioned art or the original key art. A slipcover of the new art is included on first pressings.